#one of my earliest dreams i remember was my dad being sawed in half...i was like 4

[sk3l3t0n444]

i LOVE having dreams that make me uncomfortable/sar

#like i had a dream that i killed people and i woke up and felt like shit cuz thats one of my biggest fears #i really dont want to hurt people unless they hurt me first #im just scared of hurting people #and like in the dream i murdered 2 innocent people and i felt so guilty #i just dont like to hurt people #and in the dream i got 2 life sentences and i didnt want to serve them so i ended up killing everybody in the room and then killing myself #like my dreams are always really violent #why cant i have normal dreams like shrek becoming a dog and pissing on my shoes? #instead all my dreams are like “yeah gather all the organs scattered in this maze to bring back your loved ones” #one of my earliest dreams i remember was my dad being sawed in half...i was like 4 #yayyyyyyyyy #i LOVE my brain /sar

[ranveer--singh]

Title: Decisions, Decisions, Decisions - with Henry Cavill x reader

A/N: Reader finds out she pregnant, and now has to make a big decision. Does she want to have the baby, take the promtion, or do both. Will Henry support her decision?

The front door unlocked, making Nora nervously chuck the items in her hand into her bag. Quickly she grabbed her book, opening it to the page she last left on and carried on reading.

Hearing her husband walk inside, closing the door behind him made her heart race. His scent lingered into the lounge, making Nora’s body tingle and getting more and more nervous.

She didn’t want to look up and instead just focused on reading, trying to avoid those dreamy and charming eyes.

Henry  walked into the lounge, grinning as he sees his wife sitting on the sofa. She was wearing his shorts and a pink nike shirt. Nora’s legs were sprawled out onto the sofa, eyes focused on the book which made Henry  bite his lip just eyeing her up.

“Hey lovely.” Henry  sat down on the coffee table next to his wife. He put his hands on her smooth legs, tracing a line up and down with his fingers.

“Hen stop it, stop it,” Nora giggles kicking her legs. He was tickling her, making Nora forget her place in the book. She screeched, kicking again, her bag falling onto the floor when he came across a particularly sensitive bit of skin. She cursed as all her items fell out of her back at the sudden movement, even the items she nervously put inside when she heard him entering inside.

“Look what you did,” Nora sighed, slamming the book shut, jumping out of the sofa to collect her items and put them into her bag. 

Henry  went to help her out, bending down to collect the items and put back in her bag. He could see how distressed she looked and frowned. He raised his eyebrows when he saw a white and blue stick amongst the things on the ground.

He grabbed it, standing up to read it but Nora jumped up on her feet trying to get it out of his hands. Henry  was stronger then her, being a actor who trained a lot, so he was able to dodge her efforts and kept it in tightly in his hands.

“Pumpkin, are you- are you pregnant?” Nora had tears running down her eyes now sitting down on the sofa. She sniffed, rubbing her nose looking messy.

“Pumpkin, talk to me,” Henry  went to sit next to his lovely wife. He took her hands in his and held them, looking deep into her green eyes.

“Yes I am pregnant,” Nora half smiled looking at him. She could see how happy Henry  was to finally be a dad. His face lit up, a huge smile slid across his face. It’s the one thing he was waiting for. 

In excitement, he picked his wife up and spun her around a few times. Henry  slowly placed her on the ground, his hands cupped Nora’s face where he leaned in and pecked her lips ever so gently.

Henry frowned a bit, pulling back when he got an inkling something was wrong. Normally when the couple kisses, Nora’s hands would be on Henry ’s chest or squeezing his muscular arms. There was nothing of the sort today, however. He saw his wife turn her head instead to look outside to see the sun settle down.

Just as her tears dried up, Nora felt like crying again, her body shaking slightly from the cold breeze entering from the open window. Henry just watched his wife’s motions slowly, before moving her chin back to her face faced him.

“What’s wrong?” Henry could see a few tears trickling down her face. This broke his heart, thinking she didn’t want the baby. Nora linked her hand with his, sitting back on the sofa. Hena was getting scared, 101 things buzzing around in his head.

“Pumpkin, you’re scaring me,” Henry didn’t take his eyes off his wife as she started to talk. He watched as Nora’s leg started to shake, her hands getting clammy and moving off his. More tears trickled down her face, He grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and dapped the dampness of her face. Nora drew a half smile, biting on her bottom lip. 

“Hen,” she spoke softly, looking into his soft and kind eyes. “This is going to be hard for me. So please let me finish talking before saying anything.” He just nodded, looking at his wife watching her talk. Nora took a deep breath before she continued.

“Today I got a promotion at work, Hen. Instead of being a senior associate I became manager of the sales department. It’s a salary bump to double my regular pay. I get my own office, a new laptop and a whole team to work with.”

Nora sounded a bit excited from the tone of her voice, Henry  sighed knowing exactly what was coming next. He didn’t like it and it broke his heart, but he loved her and would support her with whatever decision she makes.

“Hen, say something,” Nora looked at him after finishing what she had to say. But there was dead silence for a few seconds. The only thing they could hear was the wind blowing in from the open window.

“Let’s make an appointment at the clinic tomorrow and sort it out,” Henry spoke feeling heart-broken that Nora would choose her career over wanting to become a mother. They always wanted to be parents. Babysitting Henry’s brother’s son gave them huge baby fever and now it appeared Nora would rather become a manager instead.

Nora became angry and disbelief coursed through her body. How could her husband just assume she wanted to get rid of the baby. She stood up from the sofa, pacing up and down in front of him in her agitation. Oh, she was really ready to let him have it.

“I am free tomorrow afternoon, maybe if we book now we can get the earliest time available.” Henry speaking was aggravating Nora and only making her angrier. She desperately wanted to slap some sense into him.

“SHUT UP,” Nora shouted, veins popping out of her forehead. He was startled, he didn’t really understand why she was angry. He thought this is what she wanted, no baby but a managers role.

Nora stopped pacing when she saw her husband frown, she couldn’t help but get more pissed off with his confusion. Henry should have known her better, they had been dating since they were 18 and they had been married for 2 years.

“Henry Cavill, what the hell made you think, that I wanted to get rid of the baby,” Nora shouted, biting her bottom lip. He could really be an idiot sometimes.

“You got the manager’s job, I figured you would take it,” Henry watched his wife sigh loudly, really annoyed. He didn’t understand. Nora had always dreamed about becoming a manager. She worked extremely hard to get where she is today. Being offered the manager’s job at age 32 was not a mean feat. Nora should feel proud of her achievements and he wouldn’t make her turn down the job, no matter his feelings about the baby. 

“Don’t call me Pumpkin” Nora snapped at him. “I prefer to stand, thank you very much.” Nora clenched her hands before she carried on speaking.

“Pumpkin, please sit down,” He spoke softly watching his wife grit her teeth. 

“You don’t even know what I am thinking about half the time Henry. All you do is assume the worst, I never said I was going to have an abortion. That’s all on you,” Nora spat at him, close to tears.  

“That’s not true. You know I love you but this is a baby we are talking about. This is what we been wanting for months now. Think about my feelings too,” Henry couldn’t bite his tongue anymore at her words, getting up from the sofa so he could look his wife in the eyes.

“I don’t want to have an abortion,” Nora started crying, sitting on the sofa. Her head held in her hands, raging hormones all over the place. “I have been thinking during my journey home to decline the manager’s job but to hopefully work part-time. It’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”

Henry  sighed, shoulders relaxing. Thank god. she didn’t want to abort. He sat down next to Nora in his relief. No words were exchanged, he just wrapped his arms around her tiny waist bringing her closer to him. Nora rested her head on his chest for comfort hearing his heart beat fast. He rested his head on top of hers as silence filled the air, Henry  rubbed her back smoothly just letting Nora cry it out. This was an important decision to make for them both. 

“I want to have this baby,” she broke the silence, lifting her head up and looking straight into his eyes.

“What about your promotion,” Henry  parted away so he got a good look at his wife who looked unsure, biting on her bottom lip once again.

“I don’t know, it will be hard to juggle both.” Nora’s voice became softer and a few more tears trickled down her face.

“Pumpkin,” He placed his hands on top of hers. “I am here for you, you should take the managers job. It’s something you have been working hard for, remember?”

“What about the baby? Taking the job means I’d hardly get to spend time with my child.” More tears fell down Nora’s face, remembering being looked after by her nanny until she became a teenager. It hadn’t been very fun because her nanny had been a very strict elderly woman. She just missed and longed for her parents to play and spend time with her. She wouldn’t wish that for her child.

“Pumpkin, look at me.” Nora wiped her nose looking at him. “You’re not alone in this, you’ve got me. Both our families will love to babysit. I’d say go for the manager’s job and we will cross bridges when we get to it." 

He cupped his wife’s face in his hands, leaning in to kiss her softly. Nora closed her eyes, enjoying the kiss for a few seconds. 

"Hen, do you really think we be able to juggle it all.” Nora looked up at him questioningly.

“I really think so, we are two clever individuals who can do anything we set are minds to. So let’s create one of your famous colour-coded calenders to help us get through it all.”

A smile appeared on Nora’s face at his words. For him to suggest an organized and colour-coded plan was a sign that he was really committed to making this work. It warmed her heart.

“Let’s do this,” Nora jumped up to grab her laptop, sitting back down on the sofa and started planning and merging her diary with Henry’s.

“We are doing it, Hen. We are doing it,” Her calendar looked very organised. Well, it took her a while to make it. Nora grabbed her laptop, ready to type an email to her boss accepting the manager’s position.

“Pumpkin, close the computer and come cuddle with me.” Henry made a grab at her laptop but she giggled and shielded it, playfully slapping his hands as she did so. 

“Just a moment, Hen. I need to-”

“Need to what, send an email right now?” He cut her off, looking at her opening the email to compose a message. 

“Leave it, Pumpkin. Come cuddle with me.” Henry opened his arms and gestured for her to join him where he was sitting. Nora sighed in surrender, rolling her eyes at her husband but closing her laptop nonetheless. She stood up to go and join him on the couch.

They sat together for a few seconds when the silence broke. Henry looks up to her before speaking, 

“I hope we have a baby girl who is as beautiful as you." 

Nora smiled and quirked an eyebrow,

"I thought you wanted a boy to play rugby with?”

As she was speaking, Nora imagined a little boy with Hen’s curly hair running around in the back garden wearing superman cape on his back, being chased by his father.

Henry didn’t say anything in response but fingered the hem of her shirt, moving her carefully out of his arms so he could bend down and kiss her stomach. Nora shivered at the feeling of the stubble on his jaw gently scraping along her sensitive skin of her belly. She smiled as Henry started whispering to the little tyke inside.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x ofc

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter Seven. 

a/n: hello! this is the last chapter of book 1! thank you for the few who had read and left me nice messages and feedback, i truly appreciate it with all my heart. the next chapter will be posted in two weeks from now. also, please please please reblog and leave feedback for the content you’re consuming for free; it truly helps motivate content creators to keep posting. for now, enjoy this chapter <3 

SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 17.7k 

warnings: sexual content, panic attack, and mentions of drug use (from minor character) 

come talk to me about WTSGD! i’d love to know your thoughts! 

June 2, 2018 

Hot grainy sand seeped in between the crevices of their toes as they ran around, chasing one another while the hot sun shined brightly on their backs. An in sync laughter erupted through them as Luci had jumped on Harry, causing him to fall back on the sand. 

They were a picture-perfect moment, simply consumed by one another that envisioning life without the other was pure torture. 

June was the last month of her break before she was off to Singapore to film for Crazy Rich Asians. Throughout the entire month of May, she was booked between rehearsing with her acting coach and auditioning for this role. The entire process didn’t take as long as Ocean’s Eight since they’d given her the role within a week and a half of just auditioning for it. She was entirely surprised at how quick it was to make that decision, but Samantha had told her that her talent had gone a long way and they wanted her. Luci was absolutely thrilled, and she was at a place where she didn’t feel pressured or overwhelmed with the workload. Thea and Samantha were gems to work with; they both made sure and asked several times if she wanted to take on another project right after finishing her first one, and Luci realized why shouldn’t she? Opportunities aren’t usually thrown at her this fast, so she took the chance and landed the role. 

However, taking on another role just meant she’d have to leave again, meaning she’d have to be apart from Harry. Luci, in a way, would call herself selfless to where she would give up her dream if her loved one asked her to; but she had the tendency to make impulsive decisions without consulting everyone that was going to be affected by her long but temporary absence. Such as Harry and her family. Her family, as she knew, would tell her to go for it and that she shouldn’t worry about them when she had another opportunity lined up for her. As for Harry, she hadn’t thought about the fact that they were going to be apart for another four or five months. She didn’t think about the fact that she was spending the majority of their relationship apart from him and in different time zones. She didn’t think about him when she immediately said yes to taking on another project. 

The anxiety had crept up on her when she told Harry the news, and just like the supportive boyfriend that he was, he was absolutely thrilled and excited for her. She hadn’t matched his excitement, and that was when he knew something was wrong. 

“Talk to me, Ci.” He rubbed her back comfortingly. 

“We’re gonna be apart again,” she said sadly. “I don’t wanna do this.” 

Harry took a deep breath. “Don’t wanna do…us?” 

“No. I don’t wanna work if we’re going to be apart. I wanna stay with you.” Her eyes were filled with tears. Her voice was heavy as she felt like her throat was closing in on her. Harry saw and felt the ache she had felt in her heart. And all the same, it broke his heart. 

“You have to do this job.” Luci looked at him with sad eyes, half hoping he wouldn’t have said that. 

“But…” 

“My love, do you realize what this could mean? That movie is going to be huge. Just imagine all the people you’d work with if you took on this role. Your name is going to spread like wildfire after that!” His tone was hopeful and supportive, everything she could ever want in a partner. “Please tell me you won’t quit this job. Your dreams are finally coming true, why stop now?”

“Because I wanna be with you.” 

“You are with me! I appreciate you wanting to be with me because trust me, I really want you by my side all the time, but don’t worry about me, okay? You’re not going to lose me.” He shook his head, looking so deeply into Luci’s eyes as if he were engraving his words into her mind. 

All she did was nod, not trusting her voice to mutter out a response. She trusted Harry wholeheartedly, with her entire life. Later that evening, she told Thea that she was one hundred percent committed to the movie. 

They had about three weeks to spend as much time together before Luci had to leave again. Aside from Harry finishing up the school year and Luci having meetings every other day with her managers and some of the producers from the film to sign off on some contracts, they’d managed to make ends work. They made sure to make up for some lost time from when Luci was still filming for her first movie; they spent mornings sleeping in until one would wake up and tease the other, which would result into having a lazy and sleepy morning sex; they went on countless dates, and truly gotten to know one another without any distractions. 

Harry insisted on going to Coney Island Beach, which Luci was always up for. Luckily, no one recognized her, interrupting their perfect day together. They spent the day hand-in-hand, chasing one another into the water, and laughing until their stomachs ached. After a tiring moment of running around and being goofy, they settled onto their beach mat as their chests heaved up and down. Water droplets rested against the ends of Harry’s hair as he looked at Luci, who was wiping off the sand that had stuck to her thighs as she was completely unaware of his stare. 

“Tell me about your earliest memory.” Harry requested. 

Luci smiled at the thought. “I was four-years-old. My family and I went to Mexico for the summer. We’d gone all over the country before so I have bits and pieces of all the cities we’d gone to.” Harry listened as she talked about her childhood memory. “I remember all of the kids clubs that our parents checked me and Nathan into. There was this one kids club in Cancun where it was The Flintstones themed, and we got to paint shirts with Bamm-Bamm on it—I still have that shirt till this day.” Luci reminisced on the recollection of the summer during her younger years. 

Harry’s eyes widened. “Really? That shirt is, like, twenty-two-years-old now.” 

“I know!” Luci laughed; a sound that was glorious to his ears. “I just can’t get rid of it. It’s really the only thing I physically have from my childhood besides all of the video tapes my dad took of us during that trip.” She sighed, reliving those moments in her head. “What was your earliest memory?” 

“I was probably about five-years-old, but I remember my mum and dad got us a dog. We named her Bunny; although I think I named her myself because I was attached to her the moment we got her.” Harry smiled, and Luci giggled as she imagined little Harry meeting his dog for the first time. “She was a golden retriever, and was always the happiest. When we’d get home from school, Bunny would always be waiting by the door, and would follow me around the house everywhere; sit next to me while I was eating at the table, laid her head on my leg when I was watching TV, and would sometimes sleep with me—I’d just have to sneak her into my room because my parents didn’t allow it. We had to put her down, though, because she had some kind of infection. She lived a very good life. I hope she didn’t complain.” 

Luci fondly smiled at him. She loved learning about tiny but significant pieces of Harry’s life, and it just made her love him even more than she already did. Love? The thought momentarily and internally freaked her out, but then she realized that those thoughts were correct. She loved Harry. 

He was thinking the exact same thing she was, as if their minds were linked in a special way that they could only convey. Curling his lips in, he felt his heartbeat pick up into an erratic pace that he felt like it was about to burst from just looking at her. His stomach fluttered with butterflies, erupting into a cave of monarchs, suddenly feeling nervous. He blushed, fidgeting with his ringless fingers that felt dry from the grainy hot sand. 

Was this what it felt like? He pondered in his head. He’d never felt like this before, never felt this feeling with his past partners. And he knew the difference quite well because when he looked back at his previous relationships, he saw a time frame that only fit into a certain moment in his life. But looking at Luci right now, he saw the entire world. The sun shined brighter when he thought about her. His every sated thought was consumed with her, and that thought scared him, but it was thrilling and exhilarating, leaving him wanting more. 

“Luci.” 

She looked up, flashing him her smile that he’d fallen for over and over again. “Yeah?” 

Taking a deep breath, he spit out fire, “I love you. I think I have for a while now,” and made the spark ignite in her stomach.

Her eyes widened, speechless. And that was when Harry thought he completely messed everything up and ruined their domestic and happy routine. That was until she said, “I love you too, Harry. You make my heart beat ten times faster.” 

“Really?” A sheepish smile landed on his face, and Luci thought he was the most adorable person she’d ever met. 

Nodding, she scooted closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Really.” 

“You make me so, so happy.”

Just as they shared a loving and tender kiss under the sun, momentarily, all their worries went away. 

When it was time for Harry to say goodbye to her, it never really got easier watching Luci leave. By the end of their paradise break where they’d spent days and weeks together nonstop, he had dropped her off at the airport and watched as she stepped onto the escalator on her way to TSA. The entire scenery and feeling felt somewhat familiar to him, but he still felt pain in his chest every time he had to go back home without her, where she wouldn’t be across the hall from him. It was like watching her leave for the first time all over again, as if his mind hadn’t quite grasped at the concept of being alone for another few months again after spending a few weeks together. 

He only hoped it would get easier. 

Luci had erupted a light inside of him that he’d never known was there before. He had spent years of being in the dark, years of not knowing where to go because that certain light wasn’t guiding him. But the darkness seemed to fade away ever since he’d met her. That beautiful smile of hers was the sun that seeped through the windows in the early morning. But when the source and power for that certain light was gone for months, miles away, then all electrical power goes out too. 

Harry carelessly threw his phone on the bed, masking the urge to scream into agony. He pulled at his hair, inhaling and exhaling through his nose to keep him calm. His anxiety was bubbling up, and he felt his hands shake. 

It had been a long week for him, and it started from Monday as it carried on to Saturday. On Monday morning, he was late for work; he slept through all three of his alarms that he’d set up the night prior, making sure they were at a decent volume. He woke up an hour later, rushing to get dressed for the day. As he was brushing his teeth, he spilled toothpaste on his white shirt as if he wasn’t late already, he had to change again. 

Tuesday through Thursday were a mess for him; he wasn’t his usual self and he felt very off. It had gone to the point where his students had noticed and asked him if he was okay right as they were leaving for lunch. Of course, he told them that he was fine, but as soon as they left, he spent his lunch time crying, not getting a chance to eat his food. 

On top of the horrible week, he hated giving quizzes on Fridays, but he had to anyway because after every story his class finished, there was a quiz—it just so happened to be on a Friday. As he was packing up, getting ready to leave, he made sure the quizzes were nice and stacked before he put it into his messenger bag, but the unfortunate perfect timing had occurred and his coffee spilled all over the papers, leaving a brown, wet stain on more than half of the quizzes. He wanted to quit right there, on the spot before he let his students retake the quiz all over again. He did his best keeping his composure until he got home, slamming the door and completely dropping all of his belongings on the ground, not caring about the mess.

Harry didn’t know what caused him to have such an off-putting mood, but the thought of missing a certain someone had lingered in his mind, screaming at him to conclude his breakdown. 

All he wanted was to see her, talk to her, hug her—but she was miles away. 

Luci had been hopping from country to country in Asia, filming and working for two months already; and within those months, she had only contacted him five times. Despite being together for seven months, he didn’t want to constantly text her, asking for her attention because he didn’t want to think he was needy. But this time, he really needed to talk to her. 

Grabbing his phone that he threw on his bed, he dialed her number. He heard the phone ring once, twice, and a third time before he’d lost all hope that she wasn’t going to pick up. But then, the ringing stopped, followed by a soft: “Hello?” 

Hearing her voice after a couple months made Harry let out a sigh of relief but was soon trailed with a few tears. Luci heard sniffles and soft cries, and she felt an immense amount of guilt in her chest. 

“Harry? Baby? Are you okay?” The sound of his name on the phone didn’t do her beautiful voice justice. “H, you’re scaring me.” She sat up on her bed, way too big for just one person. The white and soft sheet surrounded her, and every time she woke up and fell asleep, she thought about Harry and wished to get lost and tangled within these sheets with him. 

He sniffled, leading into a deep breath. “Sorry, I know it’s early over there-”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. Are you okay, my love?” She asked concerningly. 

“I-I don’t know. I’m just so overwhelmed and…” she heard him start to breathe heavily, and she only wished she was right across the hall from him to take him in her arms. 

“Harry,” she interrupted. “I’m going to need you to breathe for me, okay? Slow and big inhales and exhales. Breathe with me.” Harry nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He took a seat in front of the bed on the floor, propping his knees up so he could place his elbows on them as he leaned his head down in between his arms, making a small cave as he protected himself from any more overwhelming emotions and thoughts. 

For the next minute or two, they breathed together on the phone, and it calmed down hearing her breath deeply. Luci held it together, not wanting to break when she was the one that was supposed to calm him down. 

“Are you ready to talk about it?” 

Harry gulped, closing his eyes before he told her about his week. He hadn’t talked to her for the entire week, so he didn’t spare any detail on his messy and awful week. Luci listened intently, not wanting to give her attention away from him even for a moment; she pressed the phone against her ear as she laid on her side, cuddling into her pillow and blanket as she pretended Harry was right next to her. Luckily, her call time was at ten a.m, so she had a good three hours to talk to him. 

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do about these quizzes.” 

“Hmm, let’s see. Like, all of them are ruined?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“Well, you could be honest with them. I’m sure some of them hadn’t read the material, so they might’ve not done so well. So, you could tell them that they were ruined, and just give them a chance to catch up on their readings and study the material.” She advised. “I mean, it’s a quiz—it shouldn’t interfere too much with the teaching and schedule and all the grading, right?”

“Not really…” he answered, thinking about her suggestion, and it was a really great suggestion, might he add. “Yeah, I think I’ll do that. I’d feel absolutely horrible if I made them retake it. I didn’t even want to schedule a quiz on Friday anyways.” 

“And that’s what makes you a great teacher,” she said genuinely. 

“Thank you, Ci. And thank you for answering, I know things are hectic and our schedules don’t line up. 

Plus the time-zones…” 

Luci felt her heart sink, a frown etched on her face. She knew she wasn’t texting or trying to call him, and that’s where the guilt crept in. In a way, she felt like she wanted space, like she didn’t want to consistently check up on someone back home. But the more she thought about it, the more she felt terrible because she knew that Harry’s added stress was because she hadn’t spoken to him in a week. She ignored all of the incoming text messages, leaving them unanswered while being in a country she’d never been to before. 

Her anxiety was also acting up because of how exhausted she was from flying from one place to another and the jetlag she endured. To add to her exhaustion, she was also overwhelmed with work, causing her to curl into a ball and ignore the rest of the world whenever she got some downtime. 

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for answering, Harry. I-I’m sorry I haven’t been talking to you. I’ve just been swamped with work and being tired all the time, and the last thing I wanted to do was talk to you—it’s horrible, I know. Like, I genuinely hate myself for not wanting to, especially with how far apart we are,” she admitted. Harry couldn’t help but feel his heart crack a bit; he hadn’t expected her to feel or say that. He assumed that the time apart had left her itching to see him, just as much as he wanted to see her. 

After a few seconds of silence, Harry was unable to put together the exact words he wanted to say because he was so thrown off by what she’d said. 

“Harry, I’m sorry if I upset you. You have every right to be angry with me.” 

He took a deep breath, shaking his head lightly. “I’m not angry. A bit hurt? Yeah. But I can’t control how you feel, and you can’t control how you feel either. Don’t feel obligated to speak to me, I know you’re busy and all…” His tone wasn’t enthusiastic, but could anyone blame him? His girlfriend just told him that she didn’t feel like talking to him for the entire week, maybe the entire time she was gone. 

The switch-up was inevitable. This past week, Luci wanted space and Harry unspokenly gave her that space by not wanting to appear as clingy, but just when she’d disappointed and upset him, all she wanted was to be in the same room he was in, holding him tight. 

“Anyways, you should get going.” Luci’s brows furrowed as she looked at the digital clock on the bedside table, reading 8:23 a.m.. “I’ll talk to you, uh, soon.” 

And this time, when he unspokenly asked for space, she had given it to him. 

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” A small pout landed on her mouth. For a moment, neither of them wanted to hang up, not wanting to leave this conversation with such an awkward-filled tension that won’t be able to be fixed until later on. “Harry?” Luci spoke up right before he was about to hang up. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.” She held her breath. 

“I love you too, Ci. I’ll see you soon.” Harry hung up the phone as Luci let out the air she was holding in, but she still felt weight on her shoulders. 

He was glad that he was able to talk to Luci and that she was able to calm him down with her soothing and soft voice; but that night, he still went to bed with a heavy heart, surrounded by the scent of her on his pillows that she’d left behind. 

November 1, 2018 

Harry was waiting by baggage claim, waiting for Luci with her favorite bouquet of flowers in his hands. His hands gripped the stems of the flowers, wrinkling the brown paper as he contained the shakiness. 

It had been a little over four months since he last saw Luci, and nervous was an understatement. He thought that after the weird and awkward talk in August, things wouldn’t be the same and they were going to end things. But Luci was trying—they both were. She ended up talking to him and calling him any chance that she got, which wasn’t much, but it meant everything to Harry that she was trying. Plus, a little space never really did any harm. 

His foot tapped against the polished floor, making a random beat with his boot. People brushed past him, reunited with their loved ones and friends they hadn’t seen in x amount of days; and when he saw the burgundy colored luggage with a black name tag tied around the handle, he knew she was home. 

Appearing in slow motion, their eyes met and it felt like they’d been stunned by an electrifying force that compelled them together. Duplicate smiles were spread on their faces, never leaving sight of one another as they tried getting through the crowd of people who were exiting from the international gate. Once they were close enough, Luci held out her arms while Harry met her in the middle, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. Luci held him firmly, hands going straight to the bottom of his head as her fingers gently scratched the curls that delicately rested on the back of his neck. 

She felt hot kisses on her neck and a happy smile against her shoulder that it felt like he was tattooing it onto her skin. Luci began to pull away, kissing along the side of his neck and to his lips, taking in and savoring the feel of his soft and pink lips. 

They simply didn’t care that they were in the middle of the airport, in the middle of baggage claim where everyone could see them because who cared? They weren’t going to see these people tomorrow nor were they going to remember their faces, so they greeted each other in a long and soft kiss where they smiled against one another and held each other tight. 

Pulling away, they both giggled before Harry handed her the bouquet of flowers that made her swoon. 

“Welcome home, baby.” He pecked her lips once more. 

She smelled the flowers, smiling into them as if she were a bee collecting pollen before she wrapped one arm around his neck, pulling him in for another tight hug as she planted a big kiss on his cheek, making him blush. 

“I’m home,” Luci said once she pulled away. “Now, please, take me home.” She chuckled, dramatically sighing exhaustively as if she was going to sleep immediately when they got home. 

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side before he led her to the parking garage. 

“Let’s go home. New York misses you a lot.” 

After a long ride back to Brooklyn, their lips immediately connected right when they entered Luci’s apartment while Harry kicked the door closed with his foot, extending his arm back to make sure it was locked. She quickly but gently set the flowers on the counter, so she could put them into a vase later since she had more important matters on her hands. 

As Luci was walking backwards, kissing Harry, he led her to her bedroom. She pulled away, walking past him as she headed for the bathroom before turning back around, facing him.

“What are you doing?” He asked breathlessly. 

Luci swiftly removed her sweater, revealing an olive green sports bra. She then pulled her leggings down, kicking them off as she exposed her black cotton panties to him. Taking off her sports bra, she never disconnected eye contact with Harry, driving him wild as he started to grow in his pants. He brought his fingers up to his bottom lip, pinching it in between his fingers as she slowly slid off her underwear. She was completely bare in front of him, her clothes at her feet; Harry inhaled sharply at the sight of her naked, and Luci smirked at his reaction. 

“I’m going in for a shower. Wanna wash off hours being on a plane.” She headed into the restroom without another word, leaving Harry standing stunned in the middle of the hallway. 

“Does that include me too?” Harry called out. 

She chuckled. “Hell yeah, baby. Get in here.” Her voice echoed from the bathroom as she started the shower. Harry rushed, taking off his clothes as the bathroom started to steam up from the temperature of the water. 

When he opened the glass door, her back was facing the entrance of the shower as she tilted her head back, allowing the hot water to stream down the valleys and crevices of her body. Harry’s mouth was ajar, cock twitching as he watched her. He closed the door behind him as he stepped into the shower, wrapping his arm around her waist and catching her by surprise as she let out a squeal. 

Her back was pressed against his chest, hands roaming around her wet body as he squeezed her breasts. Harry pressed a soft kiss against her shoulder as part of his head was getting wet. Turning them around, the water streams hit his back as he continued to kiss along his neck and shoulder, biting down at her skin. She let out a soft moan at the feel of his lips, extending her arm backwards so her hand was placed on the back of his head. 

“Missed you,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder, exposing her entire neck. Harry couldn’t pass up the offer to wrap his hand around her neck, squeezing lightly as she slightly moaned. 

“Mm, missed you so much more.” Luci turned her head to meet his lips, and she already knew she was going to get a stiff neck later on, but she didn’t care; she wanted to kiss him for as long as possible. His hands trailed down to her clit, making her gasp in his mouth as he started to rub the bud softly, circling his fingers around just like he knew she liked it. 

The bathroom was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, lips kissing, and the shower stream that was hitting their bodies and steaming the air, adding to their passionate tension from when they first were wrapped up around each other. 

Harry pulled away, pushing her against the wall while he kissed her shoulder once more, and Luci loved it every time he did that; it was a sweet and simple gesture, but it had complete control to get her riled up. He trailed his kisses along her back, kissing down her spine before he stopped at the top of her ass, biting down gently; Luci held the tiled wall in front of her for stability. Harry slowly licked the flesh of her ass, making his way inwards to her core. His tongue teased and rimmed her hole, making her pulse. 

“Harry…” she called out, and he playfully answered ‘yes’ as if he didn’t know what he was doing. She rolled her eyes, gripping the back of his head. “Don’t tease.” 

“Alright, alright. Only because I’ve missed you so much and have been dying to taste you again.” He kissed her ass once more before he leaned his head down to lick up from her clit to her wet hole. He sat on his knees, not caring if his knees would ache. 

He sucked and licked her clit before inserting a finger into her entrance. The sensation made Luci moan loud; her grasp on his hair tightened as if she was trying to pull the strands out. 

“Fuck, baby,” she whined, throwing her head back as she closed her eyes. 

Unexpectedly, Harry licked at her tighter and puckered hole, testing if she liked it or not; and he received a moan of ‘yes’ in return, so he continued licking her everywhere before her breath was staggered and she came on his tongue. Harry held her body tightly so she would slip from the water rushing on them. 

He slowly turned her around, kissing her lips in a heated passion that could only be received from her. Once Luci regained momentum, she took his cock in her hand, slowly pumping as he rested his forehead against hers, hands on both sides of her cheeks as he breathed heavily. Her other hand fondled his balls, rolling them in her hand, and it was his turn to throw his head back. 

As Luci stroked him, she kissed his chest, leaving a few hickies to his collarbones. 

“You’re so fuckin’ good, holy shit.” She watched his every reaction; watched him bite his lip into agony, eyes shut closed, and hips unconsciously bucking into her hand. “Don’t wanna come right now.” 

The main event was just a slip away, so she let go of him, and he’d already missed the feel of her around him. He connected their lips together; Harry bit her bottom lip as he slightly pulled at him, driving her crazy. 

“Fuck me, please,” she pleaded, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him the closest he could get as she lifted one leg up, using her leg strength to rest it beside his hip. His cock rested against her stomach, occasionally twitching from the slightest friction it was getting from her skin. 

He smirked. “Are you begging?” 

She playfully rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m begging. So what? I want you to fuck me now,” she said sternly. 

“Okay. Wait, need to get a condom-” 

She pulled him back. “I've had an IUD for a few years now, and we’re not sleeping with anyone else, right?” She asked teasingly, and he shook his head. “Good because I wanna feel you bare. Need to feel you.” 

“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath. He grabbed a hold of himself, pumping slowly as he gripped the back of her thigh that propped against his hip. Running the tip against her slit, he collected her arousal and orgasm, making her shiver before he slowly slipped himself into her entrance. 

Their mouths were wide open once he was fully in. The feel of each other as they were completely bare and raw was an unbelievable feeling that neither of them could decipher. 

“So fuckin’ tight.” He was breathless as she squeezed around him, waiting for her to adjust to his size. She muttered a ‘please,’ and Harry started to thrust quicker. Her soft and wet walls hugged him tightly, making him groan louder as he leaned his forehead against her collarbones. Luci’s fingers raked the back of his shoulders 

“God, H, you feel so good.” Her head hit the wall behind her, and Harry pulled his head out of her chest. 

“Yeah? Tell me how good it feels,” he demanded. Despite having her eyes closed, she could practically see the smirk that landed on his face at the mention of how good he was making her feel. “Tell me, Ci. Look at me and tell me.” 

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his dark jaded eyes. “So good. Could feel you everywhere.” Her words came out in between her breaths, moans, and Harry’s thrusts. 

He kissed her. “Tell me more. Tell me everything” 

“I’ve missed you inside of me. Thought about you everyday. I would touch myself before I went to bed, and it didn’t help.” 

Harry gripped her thigh hard, sure there were going to be bruises forming tomorrow. “Why didn’t it help?” He asked, picking up his pace. 

Luci inhaled sharply as she cried out. “Because no one could make me feel good. No one but you.” 

“Hmm, that’s right, baby. Only me. Such a good girl.” The tip of his cock brushed against her special spot, and she rolled her eyes back in ecstasy. He repeatedly hit that spot, linking his hands behind her neck for leverage. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” Her brows furrowed, biting her lip. Harry leaned down to suck and kick her tits, and Luci felt him slap one of them, making her get the idea of slapping something else, so she said, “Slap me, baby.” 

Thinking he meant her ass, he swatted one of the cheeks hard. 

“No.” She paused, bringing his hand up to her cheek. “Slap me.” Luci kissed the inside of his hand. 

His eyes widened. “Baby…” his thrusts slowed down, and Luci was right on the edge. He knew they talked about it the first time they had sex, and the first few times they had sex, he was testing out the waters on spanking, to which she absolutely loved feeling that certain type of sting. 

“Please, want you to.” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “Wanna feel it burn.” 

He debated in his head. “You’re sure?” She nodded, and he knew she could do better. “Words, Luciana.” 

“Yes, I’m one hundred percent sure. I’ll tell you if it's too much. Just wanna try it out.” She confirmed. The pressure in her stomach felt like she was going to burst, so she started to buck her hips, moving herself on him, making him groan. 

“Okay. We need a safe word…just in case.” 

“Mango.” Was the first thing that popped into her mind; it was also her favorite fruit. 

Harry chuckled. “Alright, mango it is.” He started thrusting again. His hand caressed her cheek as he brought his lips to hers, placing a sweet kiss to her luscious lips. “I love you.” 

“And I love you, too. I trust you.” 

Those words brought him reassurance, that she trusted only him to do this with, and that made him feel so much better about doing it. He nodded, continuing to fuck her into oblivion. Her eyes began to close and he felt her squeeze around him, making him jolt. 

“Hey, look at me. Want you to look at me when you cum.” Her eyes quickly opened, looking deep into his eyes that drove her crazy. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful.” Not too hard, he slapped her cheek, making her head swing to the side before she brought it back to look at his face. She had a sly smile on her face, as if she were the villain who would laugh every time the hero punched them. The impact had made her wetter, more eager to come. 

“Again.” She demanded, and he complied, slapping her twice more before she told him that she was coming. 

“That’s it. Such a pretty girl. Look at you cumming for me.” He kissed her forehead as he slammed his hips into her. 

Luci was spent, putting her full weight on the tiles, holding onto Harry’s shoulders, depending on him to keep her up; he wasn’t going to let her go, not ever. He wasn’t going to let her fall because he would catch her over and over again. 

“I’m gonna cum…” A throaty moan was released from his mouth. 

She grabbed his face, pressing their foreheads together as she said, “Please, cum in me. Want it.”

With her filthy words, Harry let out a harsh breath as he filled her up with his warm spurts of his pleasure, hips jolting as he rode his high out. He quickly kissed her, tongues swirling together as they swallowed each other’s moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so good to me.” He mindlessly breathed out. His cock slipped out of her once she brought her leg down to the ground, making her gasp in sensitivity. Soon, she felt the result of his pleasure trickling down her leg, and Harry was sure that was the hottest sight he’d ever seen. 

For a few moments, they held one another under the shower—thankful the hot water hadn’t been used entirely while they were fucking. Harry pulled away, cupping her cheeks as he looked at her. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, and she nodded. “D-Did I slap you too hard?” 

Luci shook her head. “No, no. It was perfect, thank you.”

He chuckled, softly rubbing his thumb against her soft cheek that he’d hit a few minutes prior. He placed many kisses to her skin, like he was subsiding the stings with his affection. “Learn more and more about you everyday; whether we’re having sex or not.” 

“Hmm, I love you.” She kissed his neck, causing him to wrap his arms around her waist tighter. 

“I love you more.” 

Finally, they were together again. 

November 3, 2018 

A stunning red cape-gown dress by Ralph Lauren sat perfectly on Luci’s body as her makeup artists were putting on the finishing touches to her glam. 

Today was the premiere for Ocean’s Eight, and nervous was an understatement. She’d been looking forward to these types of events since she was a little girl; watching movie premieres on the television, hoping and dreaming to become someone who walked the red carpet. Time flew by quickly because her dreams were about to come true. All she was missing was her boyfriend. 

After their reunion sex in the shower, they called it a night by eating some takeaway from Tasty plates. While her legs were resting on his thighs, she’d asked if he wanted to attend the premiere with her as her special guest. His answer was understandable, but she’d just wish he was next to her to calm her down. 

“Luci, please don’t take this the wrong way. I support you in everything that you do, you know that. I-I just don’t know if I’m ready for that. The thought of standing in front of cameras just makes me sick and nauseous. I don’t know…” She understood well, and saw where he was coming from because frankly, as she was getting ready for it, she could be sick any minute. 

She told him that it was completely okay, and proceeded with their night. 

“And done.” Her stylist, Jacqueline, announced, topping her makeup off with a dust of powder. “Luci, you look amazing.” 

“Thank you all so much. Best glam team ever.” The five people in the room clapped and praised her words. A security guard escorted her out to the car that was waiting in front of the hotel, ready to take her to the premiere. 

Once she got into the black SUV, her driver greeted her. “Hello, Ms. Suki. I’m Philip. I’ll be driving you around today.” 

“Hi, Philip. How are you?” 

“Doing very well, Ms. Suki. How are you?” 

“Oh, please call me Luci. But I’m okay—a bit nervous, if I’m honest.” 

“It’s an exciting time. You’ll do great.” Philip provided words of encouragement, which she was thankful for. Luci learned that Philip was from Spain, and had been living in New York since he was ten. She asked if he missed Spain, and he answered with. “Sometimes. I was quite young when we moved, so I didn’t really know any better. But the one thing I do miss is my family and how they speak—I didn’t know I could miss someone’s accent so much until I learned more about my culture. And here, I wasn’t surrounded by that. I’ve missed my abuela calling me ‘Felipe,’ which is my actual name.” Philip pulled up to the curb where there were countless media people with large professional cameras that were flashing brightly. Philip had definitely distracted Luci’s nervous thoughts as she hadn’t realized they were at the premiere already until he parked and dropped her off. “Goodluck, Ms. Luci. I can't wait to see the film!”

Someone from the outside of the car opened the door for her, and before she stepped out, she said ‘goodbye’ to her driver. “Thank you for driving me. I wish you well, Felipe.” She gave him a smile, trying her best to perfect the accent; Felipe looked at her with an appreciative smile, holding his hand to his heart. He hadn’t heard anyone say or try to say his real name ever since he moved, and for that, he will be forever grateful and honored to have met Luciana Suki. 

Camera flashes relentlessly went off in front of the Ziegfeld Theatre in midtown Manhattan. Luci balled her hands into fists as she stepped onto the blue carpet, the cameras directed towards her. She looked at Thea, who had met her at the premiere since she was her plus one, and Thea gave her an encouraging nod before Luci took a deep breath and walked in front of the white backdrop that had a large picture of the cast portraying their character in front of it. Shouts of direction were thrown her way, asking her to give their camera a big smile, and the only thing she felt was overwhelmed at everyone shouting at her, but she masked her emotions well. She was an actress, afterall. 

Harry was watching a live stream on his laptop, and he clapped to himself once he saw Luci step foot onto the carpet and in front of the cameras. He thought she looked absolutely beautiful, and he’d told her so when she sent him pictures of the entire look, saving them to his phone. He smiled to himself as he watched her, and he noticed a certain expression of uncomfortableness, making his smile vanish quickly. With a worried expression, he watched until she made it to the end of the red carpet, meeting with some interviewers, waving at fans who didn’t know who she was, and into the theatre. He let out a deep breath, glad that she was able to get through the media portion for the premiere, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

On cue, his phone began to ring, and he saw that it was his mother, so he answered with an unenthusiastic tone. 

“Hi, mum.” 

“Harry, hi. How are you, darling?” Anne asked, cup of tea in hand. 

“I’m doing okay. How are you?” He tried picking his mood up from off the ground for his mum, but he wasn’t successful at it. 

“I’m doing great. We miss you. Now, do you wanna tell me how you’re really feeling? Could practically feel your mood all the way over here.” Anne tried making a joke to pick up the mood. “Does it have to do with Luci?” Harry had mentioned Luci right when she’d move in across the hall. From then on, it was like he couldn’t stop talking about her; the moment they became friends and when they started to hang out more with one another, to when he asked her to be his girlfriend—he never missed a phone call with Anne when he didn’t mention her. Of course, he told her about her career and how she was making her way up the ladder; Anne was quite excited about that because she would get to watch her movies, but then she put the pieces together and figured out that only meant Luci was apart from her son. 

Harry took a deep breath, sighing. “Luci’s at her premiere right now, and I was just watching the live stream for it. She looked so beautiful.” Harry never failed to mention how gorgeous she looked, and it made Anne’s heart smile. “Two days ago she asked me if I wanted to join her for the premiere, and I said no. I said no, mum!” 

Her brows furrowed. “Why’d you do that?” 

“Because I was nervous to be in front of the cameras. I knew I’d have to walk the carpet with her because she’d want me to, but just thinking about it, I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. But watching the live stream just a few minutes ago, I saw how nervous she was; she didn’t have anyone beside her. It’s her first premiere ever, and I wasn’t there because I put my feelings before hers because I was selfish.” He felt an immense amount of regret in his chest as he started to cry. Luci wouldn’t get a ‘first’ premiere again, and he missed the chance to be with her, to celebrate a huge accomplishment. 

Anne’s heart sank at the sound of him crying. “I’m sure she won’t be too upset at you because she seemed pretty understanding of it.” 

“Of course she did—she had to. Things were weird at one point when she was in Singapore, and she’d only just gotten back home two days ago, so I doubt that she wanted to argue. I…I just feel so bad.” 

“Well, the only thing that would fix it would be to talk to her. Tell her you’re sorry and how you feel. You’ve got to communicate with each other.” She advised. 

The art of communication between them wasn’t entirely horrible; for one, it was difficult to communicate as it was when Luci was always working and in a different place with a fifteen hour time difference. Two, they were in a new relationship—no matter if they’d been together for ten months, they were still a new couple because they’d been separated and apart longer than they were physically together. So, they were still learning and figuring out how to do that with each other. 

“Okay. I will…” he agreed. 

Moving on from that topic, Anne told him about work and the cats, and how much she missed him. He told his mother that he’d see her on Christmas, which she’d been ecstatic about having her two children in the same house again. 

“Maybe you could bring Luci?” Anne subtly slipped in the idea to him. 

Harry chuckled. “I’m not sure. She goes back home for Christmas.” 

“Alright, just a suggestion. Make sure she knows that she’s welcomed.” 

“I’ll be sure to tell her.” 

After bidding each other goodbye for the past ten minutes, they finally managed to get off the phone after a few more conversations. 

Now, all he had to do was wait for Luci to get home and hoped she wasn’t mad at him. 

It was around eight in the evening when someone knocked on Harry’s door. He was cooking a later dinner for himself as a spontaneous idea had entered his mind to make homemade pasta. So, his hands were covered in flour, and he was lucky he had an apron on because his clothes would have flour all over it. 

Washing his hands, he headed for the door, wondering who could be knocking right now. When he opened the door, there she was: his Luci, standing in a beautiful red gown as she held her clutch in her two hands in front of her stomach. Her hair, makeup, and composure was absolutely stunning. She held herself with grace, with poise.

He was stunned. “Luciana…” 

“Hi, Harry.” She smiled. His eyes raked up and down her body, completely stupefied by her beauty; the contrast of feeling intimidated under his stare only ignited a sense of confidence for how he was looking at her. “Not gonna let me in?” Harry quickly moved to the side, opening the door wider for her as she nonchalantly walked into his apartment as the train on her dress trailed after her. 

A smirk landed on her face knowing Harry was looking at her as she walked in, and that ultimately boosted her confidence. He waited until the material of her dress was fully inside and not within the door’s swinging motion so it wouldn’t get caught under the door. 

She turned around, facing him and his eyes never left her. “How are you, my love?” Luci had a smile on her face that Harry would never get over; it permanently remained in his dreams. 

From what Harry could tell, Luci wasn’t mad or disappointed; she looked delighted and relieved to see him. 

“I’m doing better now that you’re here—and not that I’m complaining whatsoever, but isn’t the afterparty still going on?” He wondered. 

“It is. I only stayed for an hour or two. I’d rather be here, though.”

Harry blushed. “I’m glad you’re here. You look…fuck, Luciana, you look absolutely beautiful.” He rubbed his forehead as if her beauty had completely overwhelmed him, made him feel lightheaded. 

Luci was going to get changed before she knocked on Harry’s door, but she wanted him to see her in her gown, and his reaction and all the sweet compliments were totally worth staying in her dress. 

“Thank you, H. That’s very sweet.” 

“How was the premiere?” He asked; Luci took a seat on his couch, taking off her shoes before she propped them up on his coffee table as Harry followed, sitting right next to her. He grabbed her legs, bringing them across his thighs as he began massaging her feet, up her calves, and trailing up thighs—close to her inner thighs.  

Luci shifted, getting comfortable, wanting to clench her thighs together with how good his hands felt on her. “It was good! I was pretty nervous, but I had fun. It’s, like, kinda weird watching myself on the big screen. I don’t think I would get used to that.” She chuckled, leaning her head on the back of the couch. “I should get the professional pictures tomorrow, and maybe we could put them in our scrapbook?” 

Harry nodded. “I’d love that. I’m glad you had a good time.” He smiled softly before he went completely silent, stopping the movements of his hands. Luci could tell something was bothering him and had been for a while now.

“Hey.” She reached over to touch his hand. “Talk to me. You look like you have a lot on your mind.” 

“I was watching the live stream of the premiere, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Luci’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I should’ve been there with you. I mean, I was completely selfish for not being by your side for your first premiere. I was thinking of my own feelings and how I would feel being surrounded by the chaos when I didn’t even think about how you might���ve felt. And I regret it so much. I’m so sorry.”

He brought her hands to his lips, pressing multiple soft kisses to the inside and back of her hands; Luci slightly frowned, shaking her head. 

She placed her hands on the back of his neck, placing a kiss on his forehead. “No, no. It’s okay. Hey, I’m not mad. Don’t beat yourself up.” 

“But…you’re supposed to be mad.” 

“I’m not supposed to be anything besides yours.” 

He nodded as his heart fluttered at her words. There was no look of annoyance or worry about how he politely declined her invitation. 

“Just know that I regret my decision on not going with you.” 

“It’s okay. There will be plenty of premieres—hopefully—but for now, it’s in the past and we can’t change that.” Harry let out a breath of relief. “Now, what are you making? I wanna join in.” She changed the subject to a much lighter one, hoping to get his mind to stop putting blame on him. Harry pushed his tears back, leading her to the kitchen, and she was excited to see the rolled out dough on the countertop. She clapped, telling Harry that she was going to get changed. 

She came back in a pair of white pajama pants that had little chicks on it and a black sweater; her makeup was wiped off, jewelry was taken off and put away safely on her side of Harry’s bedside table. He looked at her in awe—the same look he had when she was dressed and glammed up; his look for her would never change. 

Tears and worries had been forgotten as they rolled out the pasta dough, making different kinds of shapes and sizes. They played the ‘Mamma Mia!’ soundtrack—since that was Luci’s go-to soundtrack since the movie was a “cinematic masterpiece” as she should say—singing and harmonizing They opened a bottle of wine and raised their glasses to love and more opportunities. 

November 5, 2018 

“Okay, since your birthday is in three days, and I can’t keep a surprise to save my life…I booked us a dinner reservation in the evening.” 

Luci looked up from the November issue of the Vogue magazine that she was mindlessly flipping through. Her eyes lit up. “Really? Where?” 

“I need something to surprise you with, so you’ll know when we get there.” Harry kissed her cheek. Pouting, she gave her best puppy eyes. “Not gonna work, baby, but nice try.” 

Her face switched back to neutral. “Fine. You’re lucky I love you.” 

“Yeah, I know you do,” he teased. 

“I really do.” She put the magazine down on the table in front of her, climbing on his lap. “Like, a lot.” 

“And I love you more. Now, how about I give you an extra and early birthday gift?” He asked, rubbing his hands down her back and to her ass. 

Her hips slightly grinded down on him, causing him to fidget. “Oh, yeah? And what would that entail?” 

“Let’s go to the bedroom and find out.” 

Before she got the chance to answer, he unexpectedly ran to the bedroom, dragging her along as she squealed. Their smiles hadn’t disappeared from their faces, and they were hopelessly happy and in love. 

November 8, 2018

The school bell rang, making everyone pack up their belongings as they headed out the classroom door. Usually, Harry would stay back and get some grading done, but today, he had errands to run before his date with Luci for her birthday. He’d been so excited since the moment he told her that they had plans, which he was lucky that he hadn’t spoiled the entire evening right then and there. 

For her birthday, Harry had planned to take her out to a nice restaurant—not too fancy since fancy wasn’t really their vibe, but it was nice enough that they needed to dress up. After their meal, he planned to take her to the arcade where he would win her an arcade ring from one of those claw-machine games—that ate people’s quarters quickly—were almost impossible to win anything from, but he was determined. The arcade ring could scare her away as she may think it would be the next step to their relationship but it wasn’t anything too serious because neither of them were ready for that nor had it been discussed. He’d love to marry Luci, though, if he was being honest. They hadn’t even been together for a year, but he just had a certain feeling in his heart that she was the one—a feeling he hadn’t felt all of his life and in his past relationships. 

After their arcade shenanigans, Harry would take her to a café that closed later than usual, where they would share a Danish to satisfy their sweet tooth, and have coffee or tea that would make them wired so they would have to stay up to have romantic and sweet sex; and in between rounds, they would eat the birthday cake Harry bought her. 

He had it all planned out, and he was eager to see the excitement and surprise on her face. 

Putting his folders and belongings into his bag, he said goodbye to the last student who was walking out of his classroom. With a big smile on his face, he rushed as he was packing up, seeing as he was in a time crunch. He closed his door and made his way down the hall before he was stopped. 

“Hey, Harry! Wait up.” Harry turned around, seeing Carina jog towards him as her heels clicked against the ground. 

“Hi, Carina. What’s up?” 

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? My friends and I are going to this bar, and they have live music there, so I figured you’d be interested in that.” Her hands locked behind her back as she briefly looked down at her feet before looking up with hopeful eyes. 

“Oh, uh, thank you for the offer.” Carina had the face of rejection…again. “But today is my girlfriend’s birthday and we’re going out tonight.” 

“Right, got it. Girlfriend.” She stated. If Carina was honest, she didn’t Harry had a girlfriend, and she felt like her constant invitation to hang out made her look dumb. 

“I’m sorry. I should get going.” He started to back towards the exit of the school as he waved. 

“Yeah, have a good night. If by some miraculous reason you change your mind, call me. We’ll be out all night. You can even bring your girlfriend.” Despite the fact that she’d gotten rejected three times and there was a girlfriend in the picture, she’d kept her hopes up. She was just going to stand on the sidelines, and somehow, one day, Harry would stop playing the game and join her. 

“Uh, sure.” He waved once more before heading out. Without much thought to Carina’s invitation, he carried on to his schedule and he stopped by the stand-up shop on the sidewalk that was close to his school to buy Luci’s favorite bouquet of flowers. He saw that the ones he’d given her when she arrived home a week ago were still alive and fresh, but she mentioned that she wanted to put some in her bedroom—to brighten up her room. So, no harm in getting another bouquet of flowers. The vendor who owned the shop had noticed he was a regular, which he was grateful for, and told Harry that his lady must be a very lucky one since he’d always made sure to get her the same one. But Harry quickly countered that he was the lucky one. 

Next, he stopped by the bakery to buy her a birthday cake. Last year, he hadn’t gotten one for her and she ended up blowing candles from the bowl of ice cream they ate later that night, so he figured a proper birthday cake would top it off. He’d pre-ordered the cake a few days before—a small circle cookies n’ cream ice cream cake, enough to fit both of them. He bought the numbers ‘2’ and ‘7’ and had the baker write ‘Happy Birthday,  Luci!’ in red frosting—her favorite color. 

When he was finished with everything he needed to do, it was nearing four-thirty and the train ride back to home during rush hour would be dreadful, so he headed back home. He was glad the bakery shop had given him a brown paper bag that was big enough to put the cake in because he couldn’t risk the train suddenly stopping and having the cake fly across the subway cart. 

It was five-thirty when he opened his front door. Their reservation was at six-fifteen, so he needed to get changed and properly ready for his girlfriend, and then he’d knock on her door. 

A black button down shirt sat perfectly on his torso as the top two buttons were undone, showing his cross pendant, a peek of his tattoos, and the-barely-there but growing chest hair. He wore cream colored pants that fit him perfectly, flaring at the bottom and stopping at the perfect length to show his black Gucci boots that he’d been eyeing for a while and saved up for. He messed around with his hair; it had grown much longer and he hadn’t cut it since last year, but it showcased his curls impeccably. 

Taking out the cake, he lit the candles up, placing them out the empty spaces around the writing before he carefully took the cake and flowers across the hall, knocking on her door. 

He waited a moment before knocking again, and even then, he didn’t hear the familiar shuffling inside that always made him chuckle because Luci hated making him wait. After waiting for another minute or two, he knocked once more before he walked back inside of his own apartment, blowing out the candles before setting them on the table. He grabbed the spare key that she gave him and walked back to her door. He was starting to get worried now, and all he wanted to know was if she was okay because who knew what could have happened inside her apartment. So, he unlocked the door and let himself in. 

“Luci?” He called out, slowly walking through the hallway. He took a glance at the main portion of the apartment, but it was empty. He then made his way to her bedroom and bathroom, and there were no signs or traces of the birthday girl. Furrowing his brows, he wondered where she could be. Harry took out his phone and called, texted, and sent her voicemails at least ten to fifteen times each. 

He sat on her couch waiting for Luci to walk through the door, saying that she was sorry for being late. But as the minutes and hours went by, she didn't show; there were no texts or calls—nothing. It was nine at night when he decided to go back to his apartment. He waited for her for four hours, and the only thing that he was thinking about at the moment was: she forgot or she didn’t want to spend her birthday with him. Either one was fine, all she had to do was shoot him a call or text, and then he wouldn’t be so mad or annoyed. 

The ice cream cake was melting on the table as it’d gone through hours of not being supervised by the cold freezer. He thought about just throwing the entire thing away, but then he remembered the hard work the bakers had gone through to make this cake, so he stored it in the freezer and wiped down the table before grabbing his phone, finding the person he wanted to contact and hit call. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey. Are you still out?” He asked. 

“Yeah, we’re at Cherry on Lafayette in Soho.” The person on the other side of the call said, smiling, glad that Harry was going to join them. 

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” 

Harry didn’t have a clue as to where Luci was, who or if she was with anyone, or if she was okay. All he wanted was for Luci to be okay, that’s all that mattered to him. Perhaps also an explanation as to why she hadn’t shown. But if she was going to be out all night, then he would too. 

With that, Harry grabbed his keys and headed out. 

Happy Fucking Birthday Luci.

It was 1:15 a.m when Harry turned the corner of his hallway. He wasn’t sure if going out was the best idea in the world. His mind seemed to be on auto-pilot, as it had the control to rile himself up, making him angry at his failed plan to make Luci’s birthday special to anxiety-driven thoughts that made him insecure, wondering if he did or said anything wrong to her that caused her to not want to spend time with him. He stood outside of his door, leaning his forehead against the doorframe as he fished for his keys in his pocket; at the same time his phone buzzed. 

Taking it out, he knew it wasn’t Luci, but it was Jeff. 

Did you get home okay? 

Typing back, he replied with Yeah, standing in front of my door right now. Thanks for tonight. 

Of course, man. Anytime. Goodluck with Luci. 

Harry didn’t reply anymore. Instead, he put his phone away and took out his keys. 

Jeff had invited Harry out for drinks with their other friend, Mitch, but Harry declined, telling them that he had plans with Luci. But since those plans didn’t pull through, he joined his friends from uni, which wasn’t the smartest idea because all he did was drink his feelings away and he hated doing that. He had ranted to Jeff and Mitch about how his night did a complete one-eighty as he hadn’t expected to be sitting at the bar with his friends but instead, in bed with his girlfriend. 

Jeff was Harry’s best friend, and he was his first friend he’d met when he was at UCLA, and they both had the idea to move to New York after college, so they did it together. A year into living in New York, Jeff had met Mitch, and they’d got along so well that Jeff decided to keep him around as a friend and introduced him to Harry. All three of them had been a group of three for two years, and they’d been lucky finding one another. 

Another pair of shoes had walked down the hall, making Harry turn his head to see who was coming. 

And in a gorgeous evergreen dress that landed above her knees, Luci was walking down the hall. If it was any day or any situation, Harry would have bedroom eyes, undressing her from head to toe before pulling her in for a kiss. But it wasn’t, and he was annoyed and pissed. 

Luci was fiddling with her keys as she giggled to herself once her eyes were set on Harry. His brows were furrowed as he watched her, and she didn’t seem to care about the extra presence in the hallway—let alone, the fact that it was her boyfriend. 

“Where’ve you been?” Harry asked in a quite demanding tone. Luci scoffed as if she was annoyed, and Harry was shocked that she was the one that was irritated.

“Harry, not now.” She hadn’t even turned around to face him, not even to apologize for not showing up; she just continued trying to find the right key and keeping herself up on the poorly chosen heels she’d worn for the night that made her heel blister. 

“Not now? The fuck you mean ‘not now?’ Did you forget we had plans?” Luci turned around, and Harry could clearly see that she was drunk—not to the point of knocking out, but it seemed like she was coming down from being at that point because she clearly managed to get back home in one piece without someone helping her. “Where’ve you been, Luci?” He asked once more. 

“I’ve been out.” 

“Yeah, I figured,” he said sarcastically. “Where?” 

“Went out with Nina to a club somewhere in Manhattan. Had a few…a lot.” She chuckled at the memory of her night. 

“Did you get my calls? My texts?” 

“Harry…I get you’re my boyfriend, but I don’t need to tell you my every move.” Luci rolled her eyes, huffing. Her drunk mind was going against all respect she had for the man in front of her. “Seems like you’ve been out too, but you don’t see me questioning you.” She pointed at him. 

The disappointment in his face never left. “I get that, and frankly, I don’t want to know your every move. But I told you that we had plans. The least you could do is call me to cancel, but no, you stood me up.” He tried to hide the sadness in his voice but it was transparent. Luci clearly heard it quite clearly, making her heart sink. “I understand that it’s your birthday and you could do whatever you want, but if you didn’t want to spend it with me then you could’ve just said so; if you weren’t gonna make it on time, you could’ve just said so.” He paused, taking a breath. “I-I was standing in the hallway for ten minutes with a cake, and waited for you inside your apartment for four hours.” 

Guilt was suddenly thrown at Luci as she looked down at her feet and curled her lips in. Tears had glossed over her eyes, but she denied them to stream down her face because she didn’t deserve to cry, she didn’t deserve to act like the victim in this situation. She kept her eyes to her feet and hands; she couldn’t even look him in the eye or else she'd let out a loud sob. 

“Harry, I’m sorry…” she started, testing her limits as she looked up at him. “I should’ve called.” 

“Yeah, you should’ve,” he said sternly. There was an awkward pause, neither of them not knowing what to say. Harry was exhausted from overthinking and all the emotions that had gone through his head, but it gave him a piece of mind knowing that Luci arrived home safely and in one piece, so he didn’t have any other reason as to why he should be standing in the hallway. “I hope you had a good birthday.” Was all he said before he walked back inside of his apartment and shut the door, not giving her a chance to respond. 

Luci sighed, letting out the sobs that she’d been holding in before she knew that she’d made a big mistake. 

November 21, 2018

Luci opened her door to her family, greeting her excitedly. They hugged her tightly before pushing past her and inside of her apartment. Beatrice and Ren had asked Luci if they could stay at her place for Thanksgiving, and Luci wasn’t going to say no to that. They’d arrived a day before so her parents could prepare dinner as they didn’t want to rush for tomorrow. Luci had gotten them all of their groceries that they needed for the dinner, insisting that she’d buy it at the beginning of the week since the stores would most likely be packed the closer it got to Thanksgiving. 

“I’m so happy you’re all here,” she told them. Beatrice looked up from the cutting board, smiling brightly. 

“Well, Ana, if we hadn’t come here, you had to come to us.” Nathan stated jokingly, putting her arm around her shoulder. 

Luci was happy Nathan wasn’t working during the Thanksgiving week and was able to join their parents on the trip. She’d missed all of them being in the same room; Luci had visited them before she left for Singapore, but it was only a brief day where Nathan wasn’t able to see her, so she was ecstatic her brother was there with her. 

“Yeah, and it’s fun being in a star’s home.” Ren teased. 

Luci giggled, shaking her head at the joke. “Barely a star, Pa.”

“Are you kidding? You definitely are a star! Already filmed for two blockbuster-hit movies all within a year. You’re moving up, Lulu.” Ren’s encouraging words made her smile; she always admired how her father was always so uplifting and optimistic. 

“I agree, Lucky. And there’s many more opportunities to come, I can tell you that.” Beatrice pitched in, not looking up from the vegetables that she was chopping with the sharp knife. Luci smiled, grabbing the small piece of carrot that she cut up before popping it into her mouth. As a mother could read their children’s minds, Beatrice noticed that Luci wasn’t herself. Usually, Luci would be very talkative and interactive when she was with her family, but now, she was quiet. “You okay, Luci?” Her mother asked. 

The only reasonable thing she could do, while Luci didn’t want to ruin their night, was to tell her mother a little white lie. 

Luci nodded. “I’m fine, Ma.” Deciding not to press her daughter any further, all Beatrice did was nod, taking her word for it but she’ll ask once more when the time was right. 

In all honesty, Luci wasn’t fine, which was obvious given her and Harry’s situation and the place that they were in at the moment. Ever since that run-in the night she got home from her spontaneous birthday adventure with Nina and some friends, he hadn’t talked to her much. He’d talk to her when he had to, when he didn’t have a choice; and it was quite hard to avoid your neighbor, especially a neighbor who was always looking through the peep-hole for your whereabouts and knew his exact schedule. 

She missed Harry, and she didn’t know how long his disappointment for her would last. 

The Suki family gathered around Luci’s coffee table, eating their traditional Thanksgiving foods; they shared laughter and stories. When Luci moved to New York, she was so afraid of being alone without her family, but she came to realize that the reunions were always so exciting and fun because they talked like they hadn’t seen each other in years. 

“Luci, is Harry coming by?” Ren asked. Luci had told them about her and Harry’s relationship when they’d been together for two months. It was during a group FaceTime when Luci had just woken up and was getting ready to leave for work. She was groggy and half asleep, as it was already noon on the East Coast—telling them that she’d visited Harry for his birthday, which caused an uproar. They were supportive nonetheless. 

At the sound of Harry’s name, she gulped, taking her time to chew and swallow her food before she answered her father. “Uh, no, I don’t think so,” she responded, which wasn’t technically a lie because she didn’t know of Harry’s whereabouts. 

“Ah, that’s too bad. We’d love to meet him properly. The last and only time we met him was at your first show last year, and you two weren’t even together yet! Crazy how time flies by, but anyways, he was a nice guy—would love to have a chat with him again.” Luci pointed her eyes at Ren, knowing what that chat could entail. “What? I’m not gonna corner him. I won’t hesitate to do so, but so far, he’s treating you well, so I can’t complain.”

He’s treating me well, but I hadn’t been treating him the same, Luci thought to herself. 

On cue, there was a strong and loud knock on the door, which startled the family. Luci looked around with wide eyes before she got up from her seat and headed towards the door. Looking through the peep-hole, she saw Harry, which was a surprise. 

She opened the door. “Hey-”

“What is this?” Harry interrupted. Luci stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind her. He held his phone up to her face, and she scanned the article. Her eyes progressively widened as she quickly read it. 

Presented on his phone was a thread of text messages from some woman that had sent Harry pictures of her and Nina on Luci’s birthday, dancing on the tables of a bar in Tribeca. There was another picture of her and Samuel; she had her head thrown back, laughing at something that he said but she was too drunk to remember. Another picture was when Samuel leaned into her ear, whispering something that she hadn’t had a clue about. If she was being completely honest, the pictures looked intimate; they were in close proximity because of the loud music and she noticed Samuel’s eyes sparkling as he looked at her. 

Harry’s face was neutral and emotionless, but the fact that he showed no reaction or emotion only terrified her more because she knew behind the inexpressive face, he held anger inside. 

“Where did you-”

“It doesn’t matter where I got this from. Now, tell me…what the fuck is this?” 

“Harry…please let me explain.” 

“I’ll give you five seconds to start explaining or else I’ll lose it-” The door behind her opened, revealing Beatrice. 

“Harry!” She exclaimed, as if she hadn’t heard the loud voices from inside the apartment. 

He immediately put his phone down, and if he wasn’t so shy in front of cameras, then he’d definitely hit the nail in the entertainment industry because he was quick to put up a front and mask his emotions that Luci was amazed at how fast he was able to do that. 

“Beatrice, hello. It’s nice to see you again.” He smiled. 

“We were actually just talking about you! Luci mentioned that you weren’t stopping by.” Luci closed her eyes; she loved her mother, she really did, but she really needed her to not talk. 

“Did she?” Harry asked, amusing her. 

“Yeah. Did you want to come in? We have plenty of food.” 

Despite all feelings against Luci at the moment, she was still his girlfriend, and the last thing he wanted to do was be rude in front of her family. So, he told Beatrice ‘yes’ before walking past Luci and into her apartment. 

It felt like it’d been ages since he was at her place—the unfortunate event of playing the waiting game. The air felt different, and for a momentary thought, it didn’t feel like home, but he assumed he’d only been thinking that because of everything that was happening between them. 

Ren and Nathan greeted him excitedly, like the universe was listening to their conversation and had decided to bring Harry to Luci’s front door. Harry helped himself to a plate of food as his mouth watered at the aroma and sight of homemade food before joining the bunch on the couch. 

They all chatted quite well; there were no awkward moments in between. Ideally, Luci would’ve loved this moment if it were any other time. Seeing Harry communicate and laugh with her family should make her heart swoon, but her heart didn’t have the ability to do that, as of now, because all she was thinking and worried about was Harry’s reaction and how he felt when he saw that particular article. 

“Harry, I’m assuming you already saw Ocean’s Eight?” Nathan asked. 

He nodded. “Yeah, I did. Luci’s…great, isn’t she? Like, proper talented. No wonder she was casted so quickly for her second movie.” Even though he held an ample amount of irritation towards her, he would never talk badly about Luci. 

Harry looked at her, sitting beside him, finding her eyes already looking at him with a small smile on her face as if she was thanking him for always saying kind things about her; he turned away quickly before she got any ideas. 

After a few more conversations and a pie for dessert, they all decided to call it a night. Harry thanked them all for letting him be the addition to their Thanksgiving dinner, and Beatrice had told him that he was welcomed any time for the November holiday, even though he didn’t celebrate it. 

“I’m gonna walk him out.” Luci announced, but no one really listened as they cleaned up. 

They headed out her door before Harry walked into his apartment, not bothering to close the door because Luci was following him. Finally, they were alone and had time for a decent conversation. Nerves crept onto her skin because all she could think about was how this conversation could end; they could talk it out and he would eventually forgive her, or he could break up with her and that would be the end of Luci and Harry. And for the first time, she hated the butterflies that erupted in her stomach; she hated the nervous feeling she felt in her chest; she hated the pounding of her heart as she looked at Harry because they were bad nerves, not the ones that made her feel giddy. 

“I’m gonna give you a chance to explain. I don’t want to let this slide nor do I want to assume anything, so you’re going to explain everything that happened that night because the least you could do is that.” Harry crossed his arms as he spoke; the sight was intimidating. 

Luci nodded, understanding. “Okay.” Harry didn’t say anything else, he sat on his couch as he waited for her to begin; Luci took a deep breath in. “So, Nina texted me and told me to go to her place for some day drinking because it was my birthday and she missed me, so I agreed to go. She texted me at noon and I got there around one, and there were a few other people there—already wasted. I didn’t know what the occasion was because I doubted those other people knew it was my birthday.” 

“Other people?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah, Samuel and some of Nina’s friends that I don’t know.” 

“Samuel as in that guy you used to be with?” Harry also couldn’t forget about that time he saw both of them in the hallway, watching Samuel kiss her cheek. Without him fully knowing, he was jealous; he hated how much that simple gesture affected him. 

Luci gulped. “Yeah. He has a girlfriend—Daisy, remember?” He inhaled, nodding. “I was surprised he was there, too—I didn’t know he was gonna be there. Anyways, we started drinking for hours, I’m pretty sure. I’d completely lost track of time because of how drunk I was already. But I knew it was late because it was already pitch black outside. Everyone wanted to go to a club that night, and I said ‘yes,’ but before we left, Nina and her friends were up in her room doing lines, and they offered me…”

Harry furrowed his brows concerningly. “Did you?” 

“No, no! I didn’t. That part I remember because I didn’t want to be involved in that stuff. So, I sat back and waited for them. I must’ve fallen asleep for a little bit because Samuel woke me up and told me that we were leaving.” 

Throughout her and Nina’s friendship—Luci didn’t think they were that close as Nina thought they were—she wouldn’t have guessed that Nina was using. But she figured that was the reason why Samuel was there, to provide them with a stash. It was quite a shock to Luci, even in her drunken state. Nina’s friends had continuously asked Luci if she wanted to try it, to go up into the bathroom and line it up on the cold counter by the sink, but Luci declined, telling them that she was okay and that she would wait for them. Paying no mind to her, they all went upstairs; Luci heard laughter coming from the second floor along with slight moaning after each line. She put herself to sleep, which her drunkenness helped; and for what seemed like hours, Samuel had woken her up and they left for the club. 

“Okay, so the picture of you and Samuel? What’s that about?” Harry questioned. 

If Luci could remember every single word from that conversation, then she would gladly tell him, but she doesn’t; she only remembered bits and pieces of that night before she went home. But she did know that nothing but a friendly chat occurred. “We were just talking, I swear. Nothing else happened. I remember he was apologizing for how he left things and he was telling me that he was happy about all the opportunities that I was given, and he talked about Daisy; that was it.” She paused, waiting for Harry to respond, but he stayed quiet. “And then I went home, realized that I missed our date and I was so mad at myself, and I know I shouldn’t have been annoyed or acted like a bitch to you because I had no right to  act like that because you didn’t deserve it. I’m so sorry.” She apologized genuinely. 

Luci had been beating herself up over what she did, and Harry noticed. He was good at reading her mind quite well, reading her like a book. He knew that she didn’t regret going out because she missed going out freely with her friends, but what she regretted was not going home earlier so she could make it just in time for their date; she regretted not contacting Harry, telling him that she was out or that she was going to be late so he didn’t have to wait for a night of anger and loneliness. He knew that much. If she hadn’t been so regretful, then this situation would’ve turned out very different, but she simply made a mistake, and Harry wasn’t going to let her beat herself up over that. People make mistakes. It happens. 

“Okay…” He simply said. Luci looked dumbfounded over his words and how he felt. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” She let out the biggest breath of relief before wrapping her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest. It’d been a very long two weeks since she was in his arms, since she’d heard his heartbeat close to her ear, and she never wanted to go a day without them. Luci had missed Harry; although he thinks he missed her more. 

She tilted her head up. “I’m so sorry.” Tears filled her eyes. 

“It’s okay.” He rubbed her back in reassurance, kissing her forehead. The slightest touch of his lips on her skin made a chill run down her spine; the familiar electric force had shocked her in the best and relieving way. 

They stayed in each other’s arms for a while, not letting go of one another as if they were compensating for the time that was lost when they weren’t in each other’s hold, time that was wasted. After a while, Luci lifted her head up again, exhaustedly looking deeply into Harry’s eyes; he could see how tired she was since she hadn’t gotten a decent amount of sleep since their argument. 

“Can I sleep here with you?” She asked hesitantly. 

“What about your family?” 

“They’re okay. I slept on an air mattress anyway because Nathan took the couch.” Harry slightly smiled at that. He loved how she was so selfless when it came to her family. He could tell just how much love she had for them just by simple gestures and how she admiringly talked about them. 

“Okay, let’s go to sleep.” 

He led her to his bedroom as they both climbed in under the sheets, pressing their bodies close to one another as a way to warm each other up. Their hearts were beating incredibly hard against their chests that poured out so much love, never once stopping the overload. They looked at each other, admiring the other’s features that they had memorized. If someone had asked them to draw a portrait of their significant love, they would draw each other with perfect precision.  

“I love you. I always will.” Luci said within the midst of appreciating one’s art. 

“I love you too.” 

They quietly and slowly drifted off to sleep. Luci was the first to meet her slumber, and as Harry watched her as he scratched her head, watching the way she would deeply inhale and exhale, he then fell asleep. 

That night, their sleep was undistracted and peaceful, and one of the best night’s rest they’d ever gotten within the past two weeks without the knowledge of the storm that was coming. 

December 28, 2018 

The indescribable bliss and love had lasted for thirty-six days until shit broke loose again. 

For thirty-six days, Harry and Luci laughed, made love, spent their days together, and simply enjoyed the other’s presence. Their argument was long forgotten and in the past; Harry had forgiven her for everything she’d done and said that night on her birthday, and all was good again. 

They were separated during Christmas; Harry went back home to Manchester as Luci went to Massachusetts. They considered spending the holiday with one another, but it wouldn’t have worked out since Harry’s family was in a completely different country. Luci, a person who can’t stand not seeing her family during the holiday, was thinking about going to England with Harry since he’d told her so many times that Anne would love to meet her and Gemma in person, but he couldn’t take her away from her family. So, he told her that there will be another time to do so, just not during a busy time. 

Despite the time off, Luci was getting calls from Thea and Samantha, asking her if she’d want to work again in the next year, which Luci said an obvious yes to, so they booked her an audition for a television series that was about solving crimes and detective ethics; the first episode for the series was airing in the Fall of next year. She’d have to film throughout the end of Spring and going into the Summer, but it wasn’t as hectic and fast paced as a film production, thankfully. 

Both Harry and Luci had decided to go back to New York just a tad bit earlier than when they’d usually leave for the holidays. Luci was excited to see her boyfriend again, and Harry? He couldn’t say the same. 

Some random thought in his head told him to check his emails when he was waiting for his luggage at baggage claim. He mindlessly scrolled through the unopened emails that mostly included the subscriptions for his streaming services, his favorite clothing stores since he had a habit of shopping online way too much, and random stores that he never bought anything from but typed in his email anyways to get a free coupon for a percent off of something. But an email that caught his eye was from one he couldn’t recognize—most likely a pseudonym to reach him. 

The email read: Might wanna check this out with a link that took him to a well-known media site, The Mass, that was known for twisting a celebrity’s word around. Not thinking of it too much, he read the headline that contained Luci’s name. He smiled a bit as this was the first article that was ever released of her. Just as he was about to send her the link, he kept scrolling, scanning over every word that was stated in the article. His smile had disappeared within every sentence that he read. His brows furrowed as he processed the words he was reading. And his heart sank throughout the entire article. 

He put his phone away, grabbing his luggage that had circled around at least twice, and headed home. Harry tried to stay calm throughout the entire trip back home but his mind was swirling with unwanted thoughts, betrayal, and doubted love. 

As he stood in front of his door, the door behind him had swung open, and before he got the chance to turn around, a pair of familiar arms were wrapped around his waist. 

“Hi, my love. I missed you.” Luci’s hands rubbed up and down his chest, missing the feel of him. He hadn’t said anything, not one greeting. Instead, he turned around, making her grip on him loosen as he looked down at her. She was smiling, clearly clueless as to what he was feeling at the moment and oblivious about the article that was published about her. 

Luci tiptoed to reach his lips before giving him a kiss. Just through that kiss itself, she knew something was wrong; he didn’t even kiss her back, which only pained both of them. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. There was a bit of silence; the only thing that could be heard was Harry’s heartbeat that was pounding through his ears. “Hey, talk to me.” 

Taking a deep breath, he started, “It took you thirty-six days for you to mess it all up again.” 

Brows furrowed in confusion, Luci pulled back slightly. “What are you talking about?” She asked softly. 

“Did Thea not tell you about the article that was published about you?” She shook her head, and Harry took a deep breath; he didn’t like that he was the one that had to inform her about it. “Someone sent me an article that was published on The Mass. It was an interview that took place after you filmed for Ocean’s Eight.” 

Fuck. 

A sudden realization hit her as she remembered the things she said in that interview—none of them were necessarily bad, but she did lie and say that she didn’t have a boyfriend when Harry was waiting for her at home. 

The interview with Audrey had completely slipped her mind. She thought it would have been posted after the premiere, or even after filming was finished, but there was no story or article on her for months on end, so she’d forgotten about it and thought that it was completely dropped. 

Her guess was that since her name was being put out there after filming for two big films, more people would want to read up on her. And she was glad now that people were more likely to search up her name on the search engine, but she really wished a section of that article didn’t exist. 

“When did that interview happen?” He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts. 

Luci took a deep breath. “In April.” 

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing the skin between his eyebrows before he opened his eyes. “April. We were together in April. In fact, we never stopped being together. Why would you say you didn’t have a ‘lover’ or a boyfriend?” 

“I…” 

“Do you not want to be together? Is that what this is?” His tone was overbearing as it started to become more stern as he kept pressing. 

“Of course, I want to be together-”

“Because it really seems like you don’t. Fuck, Ci. Do you even love me?”

“Yes! I love you!” She raised her voice, interrupting him as she wasn’t giving him a chance to speak. “How could you even question that?” Her eyes were filled with tears with how overwhelmed she was. “I love you so fucking much that it hurts. You’re everything to me, Harry. I want you all the time; I knew that from the moment I met you. So don’t doubt my love for you ever again.” 

There was something attractive about declaring your love to someone so passionately in the middle of an argument that it almost made the other person want to rip their clothes off and fuck them in the hallway. That’s what Harry was thinking about right now, as inappropriate the timing was. Rage filled Luci as she proclaimed and spewed out her love; Harry, her love for Harry was her extreme joy. 

“I don’t understand how you could say something like that, though.” He sighed, crossing his arms. 

“I didn’t think this is what you wanted. You do realize that my name is spreading? And once they find out about you, all they’ll do is want pictures of you, even when I’m not with you! Is that what you want? Because I don’t. That’s a huge invasion of privacy that I’m not willing to share. No matter how much I love you, I don’t want to share you with the world.” 

He nodded, understanding her words. But he felt a bit overwhelmed at the moment, and just needed time to breathe. “Okay. Just…just give me some time. I’m kinda overwhelmed with everything.” 

Luci sighed sadly, but there was nothing she could do; she wasn’t going to deny him the space that he requested. “Alright.” She watched him open his door before entering, turning around to face her. “I love Harry. That’s going to change, I hope you know that.” 

“I do.” He nodded. “Goodnight, Ci.” 

Closing his door had, in a way, represented putting his guard up. He had been living freely with his guard down for a little more than a year, and this situation and the one prior had scared him a bit, so he needed to take some control in his feelings and his life; and if putting one guard up out of the four, then so be it.

Luci had spent the night alone, which was the exact opposite of her expectations when reuniting with Harry. She cried into her pillow, regretting every bad decision she made that had caused pain to him. 

She then realized that he never said he loved her back, and he always said it back. 

December 30, 2018 

Luci didn’t have a clue as to how she survived the two weeks that Harry was mad at her because it seemed like the day and a half she was living through seemed much longer. 

They hadn’t spoken since their reunion that turned into an argument, leading to Harry being disappointed in her…yet again. 

Her anxiety was sky-rocketing; perhaps, that may be because she’d messed up twice already, so her thoughts had been on edge as they told her that this was the end—that he was done with her shit. She held so much love for him that she hoped that he didn’t see it as the end of the road—Luci didn’t know if she could handle that heartbreak, even though she was the one who caused him some pains and aches. 

He doesn’t deserve that, he never did. 

You don’t deserve him, her subconscious told her. Rolling her eyes to herself, she tried to push the negative thoughts out of her mind as they were driving like it was a race track, making her head hurt. The knock on her door had taken her out of her own head. 

When she swung the door open, Harry was standing on the other side. He gave her a small smile—not the smile that he usually greeted her with, which she awfully missed very much, but it was a smile that was shown because he didn’t want to make it clear that he was disappointed. 

“Hi, H.” Luci greeted softly. 

“Hey, uh, are you busy?” 

She shook her head. “No, I’ve got time for you.” Her words didn’t mean to come out in a flirty way, rather she meant them well and clearly. 

“Okay. Do you wanna go to our spot?” He asked hesitantly. Harry had to encourage himself to even knock on her door, and he hated how tentative he was; that’s your girlfriend, for fuck sake, he had told himself. 

“Yeah, of course. Let me just get my things.” Luci was always up for a trip to Coney Island; the spot that they made theirs. The spot that held so many memories and the most significant memory that beach held was the start of their love for one another. 

Sure, it wasn’t the best idea to visit the beach during the wintertime, but neither of them cared enough to think about the temperature or if the soft grainy sand was covered in snow; they just needed to be in that specific place with one another. 

The ride there was a quiet one—not so much peaceful as their minds were running haywire, but they’d managed to get to the cold beach without saying a word. They simply fell into an in sync step, walking side by side as their glove covered hands were stuffed inside of their own coat pockets for extra warmth when Luci would usually hold his hand inside of his pocket and cuddle up against each other as they walked through the cold. 

Settling on the familiar spot on the snow covered sand, they stood a foot apart with their arms crossed as they watched the ocean crash onto the shore. Warmth radiated off their bodies due to the tension and nerves that coursed through their veins, which suddenly made the cold bearable as they stood next to each other. The only thing that was heard was the sound of nature, the sound of Mother Earth’s specialties that had surrounded them into a bubble of stillness. The silence was deafening. 

Luci loathed the tension-filled silence; it definitely wasn’t her favorite thing when it came to her relationship with Harry. She had approximately three moments with him that included nerves filling her body; when she was in Singapore and told him that she didn’t feel like talking to him; the unfortunate event on her birthday that was entirely her fault; and the event that they’re going through now, yet again, her fault. She tried her very best to never get that certain feeling again, but she felt like a failure in doing so. And the only way they were going to fix it was by getting vulnerable, getting real; she’d felt like she did a very poor job with communicating on her end, and she was going to try to fix it. 

“Someone had once told me that I was unlovable,” she started. “They said those words right to my face, and you could imagine how shocked I looked when they said them. They’d told me that the reason why I wasn’t in a real relationship all my life was because no one wanted me; they didn’t even look twice when I walked past them. No one was interested in me.” 

She sighed, looking at Harry from her peripheral vision, and he still had his sight facing the water, but she knew that he was listening intently. 

“And that’s hard coming from a family that was filled with so much love and respect for one another. It was a different reality than what I was used to. My parents make it seem so easy to love me, even though I’m a pain in their ass, but they never really complained about all my wants. When that person told me the harsh reality, I pushed people away. Whoever got close. Even when people had asked me out and seemed like they were interested in me throughout the years, I pushed them away and rejected them because I didn’t want to endure the pain that was inevitable.” 

Turning her body towards him, she was shaking from the cold but also the ability to be vulnerable in front of her boyfriend for almost a year. 

“Harry…” she called out softly. He looked at her, completely facing Luci. “I’m sorry for everything. I truly am. I’m sorry for pushing you away, and for not being here enough. I’m sorry for taking your kindness for granted and for making you doubt my love for you. You don’t deserve any heartache, and I promise, I’m still trying. I’m still new to this relationship stuff, so please be patient. I will spend forever trying and trying, trying to make you happy.” 

Her words almost made a sob rip out of his mouth, but he contained his emotions well. Luci was cold, pouring out apologies and begging her for his forgiveness; she was new to vulnerability. 

“I know I made a mistake—several of them—but I’m trying. If you…don’t want to be with me, then that’s understandable; I won’t blame you because, yeah, I haven’t been that great of a girlfriend to you and you deserve so, so much better; and I am sorry I couldn’t be that person to make you happy.” Her voice trailed off, cracking. Harry’s heart nearly broke at the sound of her voice as he tried to contain his emotions. “But miraculously, if you decide to forgive me, then we could work everything out. We’ll still grow and learn new things about each other, and it’ll be good from there, right?” 

The sound of hope in her voice rang in his ears, and he couldn’t dare to listen to the heartbreak if he were to call it quits, which was a shock to hear her say that because she must’ve thought he was ending it for good; that thought made him sad. An abrupt flashback pounded in his brain as he remembered the happy memories they had with one another. A simpler time before the rain. 

Just last year, they were in this exact same spot, watching the sun go down with one another in their arms. But as of now, they were standing a foot apart from each other, instead of sharing a kiss at how their relationship had made it through an entire year of ups and downs; they were unsure of their next move. 

They had kept one another warm in the cold weather that breezed through them, but now, it seemed colder than usual. The air had wrapped its coldness around them, engulfing them into a hug. 

Why didn’t the sun setting come with a warning sign to let them know what kind of storm was coming for them? It felt like their worlds had washed away into a whirlwind of displeasurable emotions; one they’d hoped they were strong enough to break through the storm. 

Quite early in their relationship, they knew their relationship was going to be something special; they knew it was going to be one that was worth all the pain they’ve endured in the past; they knew it was the long haul that would last. The one obvious question that had run through their head like it was plastered on the big screen and written on the whiteboard was: how did everything go downhill so quickly? 

He loved Luci with his entire heart. Sure, she’d made a few mistakes, but who hasn’t? They still had some issues to work out, such as communication and trust aspects of their relationship. But he wasn’t ready to let her go, and he really wasn’t planning on it. So, he said: 

“We're gonna work this out.” 

that’s the end of book one! 

please come and talk to me about your favorite scenes and moments, and your thoughts and feelings! thank you so much for reading <3 book two will be posted soon! 

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles fic #harry styles x oc #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles au #boyfriend!harry #teacher!harry #actress!oc

[pinacoladasprinkles]

Daisy Chains

Fandom: TUA (The Umbrella Academy) Pairing: Five x Vanya Warnings: None Summary: There is a field. There are daisies. There is Number Five. And there is his best friend. Its set during the time before the notations of wrong and right. Its a story of the time when they were allowed to be children.  Word Count: 1.7K A/N: I want to file this as my first attempt at writing for the #Fiveya fandom. So, criticism and comments are welcomed. This was also initially written for #Fiveyaweek (Day Three: Childhood) organized by @fivevanya but I chickened out of posting this then. But here it is now :) Not Beta’d. All mistakes are mine. 

To Five, the earliest memory that he remembers is of a field. He wants to say that he distinctly remembers the day, remembers the soft fog that enveloped the air, or the dew that dotted the grass and the yellow daisies. But he can’t. There are certain elements to this memory that are purely dream-like or a product of his brain filling in the gaps. Of the things that he is certain of is this: the time of the year, early in their childhood before their powers had manifested, the burgundy frocks of their nannies, and Vanya.

It was just during the onset of winter, when the air was still crisp, and the yellow-red leaves under his boots were soggy. It wasn’t atypical for them to go out then, as it would be later in their childhood. In fact, until the age of five, visits to the park and the zoo were a weekly event.

But the trip to the field was different from the rest. It was on the outskirts of the city, on a steep hill and away from the noise of the city. Here the sky was bluer. And the horizon seemed so far and wide, all Five dreamt of achieving that day was to run to the line where the earth met the sky.  

“Let’s race to the end of that line!” He exclaimed to the others. Their nannies were setting up their picnic blanket down along with baskets of snacks and lunch, so there would be no one around to object.

“What line?” Number One asked. Five wondered why dad ever made him Number One. One could not even count up to 100 yet.

He sighed before answering, just to show his disdain. “That line,” he pointed with his whole arm extended for emphasis, “where the earth meets the sky.”

“That line is called the Horizon, Number Five.” Miss Charlotte, his nanny had informed, walking up to them. “And you can’t really touch the horizon, children.”

“Why not?” Number Two puffed, his small arms barely able to fold over themselves as he had seen his nanny, Miss Penelope (or Miss Loupee as Number Two had taken to address her) do. And while Two’s question was more from a point of offense of being told that he couldn’t do something, Five questioned the same but out of curiosity.

“Well how about I explain this when its bedtime. How about for now you kids play a game of tag?”

“Tag you’re it!” Four screamed, shoving Seven. She puffed her bangs out of the way and chased them without further prompting. She was quick, although not as quick as Two or Three or himself, but she was quick. And Five always admired how she would change her directions quickly, like a Cheetah. So far, she had only been ‘it’ a handful of times.

“Tag! You are it!” She laughed, pink cheeked and messy haired. Six smiled back and started chasing after One.

They played around for a while longer before their respective nannies, came to gather them for lunch. Well Seven was missing her Nanny, so Six’s fetched her as well. “I like how you change your direction so quickly when you are ‘it’” He admitted to Seven waiting to be served their share of sandwiches and juice.

The wide toothy smile that she gave him in return was nothing short of brilliant to Five even then. “Thank you! Do you think I did it like a Cheetah?”

“Yes! That was what I thought too!” Seven was quickly becoming his favorite. Not only was she quick, but she was also smart! And Five liked that. He wanted to be the best and have the ‘best’ best friend. “Where did you learn that from? Miss Charlotte read to me about Cheetahs only yesterday.”

At this Seven leaned in closer to him, her hand cupped near his ear. “It’s a secret, but I sneaked into Two’s room last week and Miss Loupee was reading to him about it.” It was the first secret he had ever been a part of and it made him feel special that it came from Seven.

The feeling of warmth lingered within Five long after they had finished lunch. They now sat in the grass, while Miss Miriam thought them how to make crowns out of daisies.

They were first tasked with picking out 30 daisies each and some blades of grass if they wished. And while the task was aimed to have them brush up on their counting, One and Two saw it as nothing more than an opportunity to out-race the other in picking out daisies the fastest. Three, Four and Six were bundled in a group, fretting over picking only the prettiest yellow daisies. Five would have loved to join them, it would be fun picking up only the best. He moved to join them, but his sights caught on to Vanya before he could. She was far away from the group, kneeling over a patch of densely packed flowers. He decided to move towards her, but with only five more daisies left to complete his collection, Five hastily picked them up first.

By this time, the entire group had completed filling their little baskets as well. Well, except Seven.

“Seven is last again!” Three laughed. “I bet she doesn’t know her numbers.”

They were just kids, and kids can be mean. Of course, Three just asking for attention but it would be a long time before Three would know how devastating (powerful) her words could actually be.

Tears immediately lined Seven’s eyes, Five instinctively knew she thought back to the one time when she confused her six’s and nine’s while counting. Dropping her flower basket, Seven turned away from them and starting running towards the horizon. He could hear Miss Miriam reprimand Allison, but gave it no further attention, instead he walked towards where Seven had dropped her basket. He could make her a crown, certainly that would make her feel better. That’s what Miss Charlotte did with him; Whenever he was particularly sad that story time had to end, she would make him a PB and Marshmallow sandwich. Of course, now a daisy crown isn’t in the same league as PB and marshmallow sandwiches, but he wagers that Seven would like it just as well. Picking up the basket he instantly understands, why Seven had taken so long to collect her daisies. Pristine white daisies filled the small basket. Everyone else had picked the more common yellow daisies, while Seven had spent her time searching the field of yellows for the white ones. Seven was so unique, Five thought. She was fast and smart and unique too. A perfect best friend.

Sitting down in a circle around Miss Miriam, the children closely followed her instructions. And in moments where she had to slow down so that Four or Two or One would catch up, Five turned to assure himself that Seven hadn’t strayed away. He watched Miss Ann walked up to her. Seven was soon getting her own demonstration from Allison’s nanny.

“And there! Now you all have a crown. Come on now, put them on!” Miss Miriam exclaimed. She watched enthusiastically as the children placed their crowns over their little heads and turned to one another to show off their works. Number Five remained intently watching the white crown he had made. “Number Five don’t you want to put on your crown. It is so wonderfully made.”

He blushed a little, casting his eyes back to the crown before admitting, “I made this for Number Seven. To make her feel better.”

Bless his little heart, what a cutie! Miss Miriam thought to herself. She barely restrained herself from pinching the boy’s pink cheeks, instead keeping decorum, and suggesting he make his way to her, present her the crown immediately. Miriam always believed that love bloomed in hearts young, and only wished she would remain under Sir Reginald’s employment to watch this love flower into more. She walked with Number Five to where Miss Ann and Number Seven sat. “Miss Ann, why don’t you help me pack the picnic goods back, we will be heading home soon.” She asked her colleague, giving her a wink only to receive an exasperated sigh in return. Nevertheless, Miss Ann accompanied her back, leaving Number Five and Seven, to their own devices.

“Are you still sad about what Three said?” Five opened, hoping that although she be upset enough for him to present her the crown but not upset enough to cry again. He didn’t know what he would do if she began to cry again. And that’s not something he liked, as his best friend Seven shouldn’t ever be made upset. Her nose was still a little red, but to his relief there were no tears in her eyes, “I made you a crown.” He offered.

Seven gasped, slowly taking the crown from his hands. “You made it out of the white daisies I had picked! Thank you.”

“I think it’s pretty cool, that you picked white flowers. Everyone else just picked the yellow ones. I did too. But you are unique.” She blushed at that, and that made him blush too.

But her shoulders dropped after he had placed the crown on her head. “But I did not make you a crown” she lamented, pointing to the half-made daisy chain in her hand.

“That’s okay. You can make me a PB and marshmallow sandwich when we get home.” He smiled. “I like them the most.” Seven nodded her head, trying to store away the valuable information he had provided.

They sat in silence for a while, uncertain of how to carry forward a conversation beyond what had just been said. Despite their young minds, they knew what had just been exchanged was far more precious than what could be said after. And the only way they knew to preserve the moment was through small smiles and silence.

But silence lingered a little longer than the words lodged in Seven’s chest could, and ultimately, she spoke, “Five I think you are my best friend.”

Five perked up instantly, glad to have her on the same page as him. “You are my best friend too, Seven.”

“Children gather around. It’s time to leave!” Miss Loupee called, breaking any further conversations. They stood up, holding each other’s hand like they were thought to do before crossing streets, and smiled.

“When we visit this field back, can you make me another crown?”

“I will make you a ring. And we can get married.” He smiled. And she smiled back.

.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoings and right-doing, there is a field. I will meet you there.

.

#Fiveya #the umbrella academy #tua #Fiveyaweek #vanya x five #five x vanya #fanfic #00.05 #00.07 #vanya hargreeves #five hargreeves #myfic #tua fanfic #tua fic

[buffyversefanfiction]

Twisted Tristan’s Tormented Christmas

Fandoms: Buffy the vampire slayer, Angel, Buffy Dark Horse comics, Buffyverse and A Christmas Carol.

Warnings: I do not own the rights to the television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, its spin-off series Angel, its dark horse comics continuation series, or any of the characters created by Joss Whedon and others in the Buffyverse.

15 years +, Mild to Strong Violence, Sexual References. F/F, F/M, M/M, Other +

“Have yourself a merry little…” The voice on the television began to sing with a campy Christmas cheer before the song was abruptly ended by Tristan switching off the television in the living room of the apartment, he shared with Faith above their bar Rogue’s. “Christmas is cancelled this year; we are drinking straight through to New Year’s.” A drunken Tristan declared, while wearing just a pair of tight white boxer briefs as he held a half empty bottle of whisky in his hands, before crashing on to the nearby couch. This year had been especially difficult for Tristan Summers, who had went from being a vampire who was possessed by a demon, to being killed, only to come back to life and find himself sucked into a twisted dimension where he and his parents Buffy and Angel worked together to kill the shadow demon that had once possessed him. Being back from the dead should have been reason enough for Tristan to celebrate Christmas, however, despite many pleas from both of his infamous parents he continued to decline, even going as far as convincing Faith to head to Los Angels for Christmas so he would not have anybody to remind him come the day. The earliest Christmases that Tristan could remember with his adoptive parents seemed like a perfect Christmas looking back which were probably heavily influenced by nostalgia and how much he missed them. Heck, even his Christmases spent with vampires Dante and Drusilla were fun for him, of course they were all crazy and there’d usually be humans on the table instead of turkey but it still felt like a family holiday, a deeply disturbed family, but family nonetheless and after so many losses, heartbreaks, and betrayals, Tristan was done with it all, especially Christmas. After everything him, Buffy, and Angel had gone through to get to a place where their relationship was somewhat healthy, or at least healthier than Tristan trying to kill his biological parents, he did feel guilty for rejecting both of their invitations but he just did not feel ready to open himself up to another form of family, especially not on Christmas Day.

As the hours passed, Tristan waited until his bottle of whisky was completely empty before passing out drunk on the couch where he sat but sleep was not something he would get much of on the night of December 22nd as he suddenly found himself being awakened by his old high school friend Mandi Jenkins, startling him to his core, considering Mandi was killed by Drusilla not too long ago. “Mandi,” Tristan mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, unable to believe what stood before him. “How is this possible? Your dead…I saw your body myself after Dru killed you.” “I believe the correct answer would be it’s the magic of Christmas, believe it or not that kind of thing really does exist but to be fair in a world filled with vampires, witches, slayers and sons of slayers is it really that far of a stretch that Christmas really is that special after all.” Mandi replied to her old friend. “Clearly, I am dreaming once again.” Tristan realized, as he stood up from his couch. “There’s only so many twisted dream scenarios one unhinged slayer can handle before he becomes completely and utterly tormented like…” “Drusilla…you were going to say Drusilla, right?” Mandi interrupted the slayer’s son, instantly noticing his guilt over mention the name of her killer to her so casually. “It’s okay Drusilla killed me, biggest surprise was it was not you who killed me…and I use the term loosely considering I am not actually Mandi.” “Are you the first? Please tell me you’re the first and not the shadow demon because I am getting sick of going up against the shadow demon.” Tristan complained. “I am the ghost of Christmas past.” Mandi revealed to him, only to be met by laughs of disbelief from Tristan. “Are we really doing this?” Tristan asked in between laughs.

Exactly one blink later and before his very eyes he was now standing next to Mandi on the snow covered grass of his family home in Riverborn looking into the dining room window to see his adoptive parents playing games, talking and laughing with each other and a six year old version of himself. “They loved Christmas so much, my dad used to dress up as Santa, I guess like most dads did but he really committed to the role either that or I was a really dumb kid because I was shocked when I found it was him.” Tristan admitted to Mandi, with tears in his eyes as he watched a beautiful Christmas memory before his very eyes. “Do you remember how our parents used to meet up on Christmas night and it would be like this big mash up of Christmas? And how you used to spend New Year’s with me every year?” “I know I look like Mandi, but I am not actually her remember,” The ghost of Christmas past reminded him. “I can see why Christmas is so difficult when it serves as a reminder of all you’ve lost but not all of which you have lost is bad…” “What does that mean?” Tristan wondered, before realizing. “Dante and Drusilla…I loved them like family too and the whole time they were the ones who killed my real family, first my parents, then you, well Mandi…” “I know how much Mandi Jenkins meant to you which is why I chose to take this form and I know the guilt you feel for not only her death but your parents’ too but all of that was out of your control.” Mandi of Christmas past explained to the son of the slayer. “Maybe not…but killing Mandi’s boyfriend was definitely all me, killing all those slayers, and all those innocents, that is all on me without any excuses and that is something I can never make up for.” Tristan admitted, never forgetting the horrors he had committed with his own hands. “I could feed you the line and play the role of a person endorsing your shit by saying you were manipulated by two vampires, one whom you were in love with, but the truth is you chose that path and you killed all of those innocents and that is something you should have to live with for the rest of your life without a doubt!” Mandi made clear to Tristan. “However, that does not mean you should resign yourself to the shadows, if you truly want to redeem yourself and be the better person then you need to learn the true differences between the past you, your present and what your future may look like.”

It was December 23rd the eve before Christmas eve and Tristan had all but regulated his experiences the night before as nothing more than a drunken dream as he pulled himself together, showered, washed, and put on some clothes before opening up his and Faith’s bar Rogues which they opened during the day despite the fact most of their customers couldn’t step out in the day, however, one particularly loyal customer only showed up during the day, Miss Anya Christina Emmanuella Jenkins, a former vengeance demon from an alternate world who had found herself annoyingly human and in New York City. “So, you spend a thousand years give or take with the best gig a girl can ask for…minus all the bloody bunnies and then boom some shadow demon gives you an offer you cannot refuse although in hindsight I probably should have…” A drunk Anya Jenkins slurred while drinking her bottle of beer, sat on a stool, at the bar counter, within Rogues bar, which was empty barring her and her bartender Tristan Summers, who stood behind the counter, looking far from amused by his company. “Only to be beat by two humans and the worst part of it all is not only does the world suck a lot more than I hoped for but this world’s version of my boss tells me I have no choice but to stay human because this world’s me was given too many chances…” “You have told me this story every time you come in here in the afternoon, always drunk before the sunsets, forcing me to get you a taxi so you do not wind up some vamp’s dinner…” Tristan complained to her. “You need to get over it already and find yourself some kind of life you do not totally hate living.” “Oh, I am very sorry if my life’s problems bore you!” Anya said with great sarcasm. “It was you lot who did this to me…it’s only fair you have to wallow in my misery with me.” “Hey, do not get uppity with me because you were bested by a broken key and a halfwit.” Tristan mocked the former vengeance demon, and by doing so also mocked Dawn and her boyfriend Xander. “You are almost as bad as Sid for the complaining, but the guy is a freaking puppet who cannot drink…real problems, unlike yours!” “Remind me again why I keep choosing to come back here to a bar which service is severely lacking?” Anya asked, while digging at Tristan at the same time. “Because this is the only place stupid enough to let you have a tab!” Tristan replied. “Which was definitely more Faith’s idea than mine considering I know for a fact you are never going to find a way of paying us back nor do you want to look.” “You make an excellent point,” Anya responded before finishing her beer and placing the empty bottle onto the bar counter. “Where is your fellow slayer anyway?” “Spending Christmas in Los Angeles with everyone including the two humans who brought you down to your knees.” Tristan informed her, all too happily. “If I knew you were this much fun during the holidays I would have told her to take you with them although considering you’re an alternate world version of the girl Xander almost married I do not think Dawn would be too happy…saying that I am not too sure if I care about her not being happy.” “So, you turned down being somewhere for Christmas so you could serve me alcohol all through the holiday and yet I’m the one who needs to get a life?” Anya said blatantly, as she stood up from the barstool and began walking towards the bar door, ready to leave Tristan alone to think about her latest insult.

Later that very same night after he was finished closing up Rogues, the only male slayer Tristan went straight to bed, avoiding any drinks in an attempt to avoid further dreams about Christmas past, but alas the ghost of Christmas past and had come and gone and it was now time for the ghost of Christmas present and who better to represent it than Drusilla, a vampire that Tristan had a lot of history with, history which continued to troubled him right up to this very day, and possibly in the future too. “My boy still looks like an angel when he sleeps but the things, he’s done makes his daddy angel weep and weep.” Drusilla tormented Tristan, as the male slayer awoke from his sleep to find her stood above his bed within his bedroom. “Considering you were not invited into this home this has got to be another dream,” Tristan reassured himself, as he climbed out of bed and stood up on the floor, ready to face the vampire who made him into the monster he once was. “So, are we still on the theme of Christmas or is this just another dream with you in it?” “Yes, I do seem to haunt your dreams on the regular…tell me what is worse for you? The dreams in which I am killing everybody you loved which serve more like flashbacks than dreams, or is it the dreams in which you’re happy, we’re happy, Dante, and Mandi too?” Drusilla, the ghost of Christmas present, questioned the man who once loved her like a mother, knowing the turmoil her mere presence caused him. “I cannot believe I am saying this,” Tristan admitted to both himself and the ghost of Christmas present, eager to avoid anymore talk of his troubling past. “Please tell me this is another Christmas dream…” “Yes,” Drusilla said after a sinister cackle, the Christmas ghost playing their part of the deranged vampire a little to well, before the two found themselves standing outside the front doors of the Hyperion Hotel, within the garden, looking through the front doors to see Tristan’s father Angel reluctantly decorating a large tree within the reception area of the hotel, under close super vision by the all-powerful witch Willow. “Hate to break it to you Dru but if this is what you have to show me then your seriously lacking in the sinister department these days…or this Christmas ghost version of you is way too much Christmas and not enough Halloween.” Tristan scorned Drusilla, as he continued to watch his father Angel decorate a tree with Willow, looking further to find Faith and Spike knocking back drinks at the counter of the reception area, while behind the reception area Giles, his mother’s watcher, was heavy into what looked like a game of scrabble with Dawn and Xander, the watcher looking justifiably frustrated by what Tristan assumed was the others lack of verbal intellect in comparison to Giles. As Tristan continued to search through the festive scenery before his very eyes, taking Drusilla’s silence as a hint to continue examining what lay before him, after a few more moments he found his mother Buffy Summers sat on the stairs playing dolls with her six year old niece, and his cousin, Joyce Harris, and for some reason that he did not want to admit to himself he began to feel a gut in his stomach, jealous not of Joyce or her child play, but broken by the sign of Buffy being motherly to a child, a child that was not him, a child that would never be him. “You are right in thinking she will never be like that with you, for you a neither a child, or remotely innocent…the days of that ever being likely for you are well and truly over.” Drusilla told him. “You are never too old to be somebody’s son but are you too far gone to allow anyone to love you like that?” “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tristan questioned the vampire, confused by her often-cryptic ways of putting a sentence together. But before the son of the slayer could get any answers from the ghost of Christmas present he found himself waking back up in his bed in his bedroom, only this time there was no sign of Drusilla to be found.

It was now December 24th, officially the eve before Christmas, and it felt to Tristan like this particular Christmas was on steroids, as Christmases tended to feel like during times people were far from feeling the festive spirit, and it seemed to Mr. Summers that he could not turn on a television, stream a song, or listen to the radio, without the message of Christmas being shoved down his throat, but as he opened up his bar for another day to night shift, he began to look forward to the distraction of Anya Jenkins, knowing she would be the last person to feel the festive cheer, or at least that is what he thought. As Anya strolled into Rogue’s dressed as a literal elf, holding a hot, sexy, and barely dressed, male Santa in her arms looking happier than she had ever looked before, Tristan could not believe his eyes, believing instantly some sinister magic was to blame for this ungodly sight before him. “I thought you hated elves why the hell are you dressed up like one?” Tristan asked Anya, as she sat down at the bar with her festive suitor. “It’s bunnies, it’s always been bunnies, bloody bunnies!” Anya corrected the male slayer, unnerved by mentioning the creatures she feared the most. “So, you hate Easter but not Christmas then?” Tristan wondered, before turning to examine the sexy Santa, failing to not notice his amazingly chiseled and seemingly oiled hairless chest. “Or do you just have a kink for Santa’s…which judging by this one makes a whole lot of sense.” “I like money, and lots of it, and I got myself as an elf at some shopping mall…can you believe shopping malls are still a thing on this world? In my world we enslaved all designers forcing them to make their designs exclusive to us which definitely wound up backfiring when they started stitching terribly and we got all angry and killed them all.” Anya revealed to Tristan, with a sense of fondness. “Now those were the days…” “Did you just say this world…as in you’re from another planet or something? Because that is super cool, everyone meets vampires and demons these days, but I never hear stories about aliens.” A clearly confused sexy Santa asked Anya, all too excited by the potential of her being an alien. “I knew by Xander that dumb was your type but at least this one’s hot.” Tristan told Anya, mocking both Xander and the sexy Santa without care. “Well aliens are from another planet and I am from another universe so yes, I’m technically an alien to this world anyways.” Anya replied to Tristan, before going on to say. “Also, I am not the Anya who almost married that lump I am the Anya that has only had the misfortune to meet him once.” “So, Santa what do you want to drink?” Tristan asked the man, eager to change from the topic of aliens. “Oh, I do not drink, I respect what goes into my body.” The sexy Santa, instantly losing all appeal to both Anya and Tristan within that one instant. “I’m cool with the whole not drinking thing but respecting your body? Is that really a thing when there is literally a fast-food joint on every corner? I mean I am all for self-love and stuff but keep your greens and I will keep my fats.” Tristan responded to the man dressed as Santa. “Tristan your bitterness over no Christmas date is starting to show, maybe you should hitch a ride to L.A. before it’s too late and spend Christmas with that god-awful family of yours.” Anya suggested to the male slayer. “I’d gladly tend to the bar for you…if I’m payed Christmas wages of course.” “No thank you,” Tristan scoffed, not willing to trust Anya, nor willing to go anywhere, especially not on Christmas. “I mean I know this place is just a dive bar and everything, but I would not trust you to take care of my stakes never mind my bar, and everything’s a stake if it’s wooden and you get creative…”

After spending his day shift watching Anya making out with the sexy Santa she brought to Rogues, and the night shift serving demon after demon, creature after creature, and the odd human who were very odd indeed, Tristan shut down the bar for another night before putting himself to bed once again, falling into a deep sleep, hoping the future was further away than what it would be…as before long he found himself awakening on the cold hard ground of his own grave. “Well this is definitely a little too much melancholy for even me…” He mumbled to himself as he stood up from the ground and walked off his grave, looking around the San Francisco cemetery, confused by how he got there. “Down here big guy!” Sid instructed the slayer, forcing Tristan to look below to find the living puppet stood in front of him. “In case you’ve not quite caught up on all of this, yet I am your ghost of Christmas future.” “I figured that much but why take to me to where Buffy buried me before the whole coming back to life via some powers that be meddling?” Tristan replied to the puppet man, made of wood. “Well where else were they going to stick your lifeless body the next time around?” Sid answered him. “They never got round to getting rid of the grave, not that they needed too considering you wound up back in it before long.” “What did I die of a severe lack of Christmas cheer?” Tristan joked, unaffected so far by this spiritual visit. “Or maybe a vampire staked me with a candy cane, the amount I’ve staked seems kind of poetic actually…” “Nope, after you went back to the bad way of life much to no-one’s surprise your mum Buffy stepped up and killed you…if memory serves right you were stabbed to death with way too many wounds for it not to be a little…you know…fun for her.” Sid revealed to the slayer. “But after all the work they put in saving you just for you to go back to being a bastard who would blame her…” “So, I go back evil? I wouldn’t do that…not after everything…” Tristan dismissed his claims, all while fearing Sid was telling the truth. “Yep, that’s what you thought too but after continuously pushing away the parents, then Faith, and even Anya got sick of you…well after all that you had nobody and before long you were back budding it up with Drusilla acting as if you did not know she and Dante killed your parents…or maybe you just really did not care anymore.” Sid continued to explain to a stunned Tristan. “I mean how are you supposed to be human when you haven’t bonded with any since you started playing with monsters.” “That’s not true!” Tristan snapped at the ghost of Christmas future. “I care about Faith she has never given up on me, and I care about Buffy and Angel, I mean sure the parents thing is a little complicated but I do care about them…and I cared about Mandi, Lucas, and the parents that raised me.” “If you really care about all these people, the ones who aren’t dead yet then why are you treating them like they are already gone?” Sid asked Tristan, already knowing the slayer’s answer. “Because you fear one day you might end up caring too much and losing them which will happen as nobody lives forever, thing is…if you don’t care, lose, get hurt, and let your heart break, then you’re not really human as much as it sucks, we got to feel the bad as well as the good because nothing is more dangerous than becoming numb to it all.” Tristan wanted to argue back with the man trapped within the dummy, wanting to prove him wrong, but Sid’s words were wiser than Tristan would like to admit, and even if he was not a fan of Christmas itself he was certainly a fan of those who did care about it, those who wanted to spend it with him and before long he started to realize that he had made a huge mistake by trying to skip Christmas….

As Tristan woke up in his bed within his room on Christmas Day, he was immediately met with guilt as he realized he had missed out on a chance to bond with his friends, his family, and potential loved ones. He was not suddenly a fan of Christmas itself, that would take some time, but he began to remember its message and how important it was for people, how important it once was for him, and as he climbed out of his bed, rising onto his feet, and walked over to his window to see the back alleyway, in between his building and several others, was covered in snow, as snow continued to fall from the sky, and for a moment, just a moment, he even considered opening that window and yelling Merry Christmas. Instead, he chose to get changed and then call up those who would answer to him, so he could wish them a Merry Christmas and admit to his regrets of not being with them on this special occasion but after he had got changed, and walked into the living room of his apartment, he quickly realized he had no calls to make as his living room was decked to the halls with Christmas decorations, including a fully decorated tree, as his mother Buffy Summers, his father Angel, his aunt Dawn, her man Xander, and their daughter Joyce, stood beside his friend Faith, the vampire Spike, his mother’s best friend Willow and the retired watcher Giles…all of them ready to spend Christmas with him whether he wanted to or not…but luckily for him he was more than ready to celebrate Christmas with them all.

Have a truly twisted Christmas that only torments you in the more joyous ways and a happy new year, a year which will hopefully be less chaotic than 2020, keep slaying slayerettes.

#Buffy The Vampire Slayer #btvs #buffy #buffyverse #angeltheseries #buffyfandom #angelfandom #buffydarkhorsecomics #fanfiction #fanfic #buffyfanfic #angelfanfiction #christmas fanfiction #christmasfanficspecial #buffychristmasfanfic #angelchristmasfanfic #gayfanfiction #lgbtfanfic #lgbtthemes #lgbtcharacters #buffychristmas #angelchristmas #buffy summers #angel #faith lehane #spike #willow rosenberg #xander harris #dawn summers #rupert giles

[whats-the-story-tc]

9th of October, 2020

"The One with the Grim News"

That morning, I had a rather very nice dream involving V. Initially, there were a lot of us in the dream in various places, all people from my class or my year, but at the end, it was only V and I left. There we were, walking on the nighttime streets, chatting, and... I took her hand. She didn't refuse me, we kept walking like that. Then my dog woke me up.

Little did I know...

Second period Maths. V walked away in front of our door with a girl from extracurricular. The way they walked, I thought they were holding hands, but the more I think about it, I think it was just V holding her own stuff. I immediately knew something was up, and I was determined to find out what. The girls behind me are whispering in class. Something is up. I don't know what, yet, they don't tell me.

The minute I step foot out of class, I'm greeted with the sentence: "[V] is leaving." My classmates, all surprised and confused, tell me to check the group chat. And there's the e-mail, sent to all of our parents. She's leaving teaching all together, not just this place, her classes will be covered by other teachers, and eventually, by someone new.

Dad: "Hi, baby! Did your English teacher leave? I just read [the e-mail]..." - 9:10 AM

Mom: "Hi, [nickname]! I just read Miss [V] quit. Did you know about this? I know you loved her, I hope everything is alright!" - 9:29 AM

I got notifications of neither of these messages. It was around 9:48 AM, and I was standing frozen in place, a gym bag in my hands. I had to go on, class was starting soon and I had to change clothes, but I couldn't speak. I refused people touching me or being around me while I couldn't. It was so sudden, that it didn't even get to me for a couple minutes. I'm losing the foundation of my existence here at school. I dare say, the most important person in my life. I didn't know what to do, so I just kept going on autopilot, white noise in place of thoughts.

I started crying at the start of P.E., tears running down my face all throughout the warm-up. It was a surprise, but a most welcome one, to see Brunet Boy in the Back show up next to me, put his arm around my shoulder and tell me: "Hey, I know the [V] situation affected you badly, we're all feeling like shit, but you have to go on. You have to run this relay now, and I'll be rooting for you! I'll say the ground is burning beneath your feet!" He, one of the troublemakers, has never been so nice to me, it completely took me aback. Aback enough that I managed to help my team of classmates run a better time than we did on Wednesday.

I never told you guys about how I ran relay last year, on the 4th of October, 2019. Back then, I was a last minute addition to the team, filling in for someone. Initially, I didn't even want to go. Then I saw V, standing there at the edge of the track, with the other teachers. I wanted her to see that this is something I can do. I wanted nothing more than to impress her. It only took seconds to say yes to my homeroom teacher, and run relay with my classmates, dressed as I was, in streetwear, no warm-up. After we all ran, and the competition between high school classes was over, the first thing I did was to walk right up to V, and say only two words to her, that I'd heard from her that week in class: "Athleta Christi." Soldier of Christ, someone, who makes a sacrifice, as V taught us. I remember the proud smile. I was scared she'd think me arrogant, but now I know better.

After this relay, I wandered down into the other half of the courtyard, and met someone I haven't spoken to in ages: my English teacher from elementary school, my earliest mentor, who told me to pursue writing and was always incredibly nice to me. I sat down next to her, told her about what happened with my classmates, at least the ones she knows, and she was very glad to hear about all of us. Then... naturally, I had to bring up V. I had to talk to someone about it. She, too, said she was shocked and only found out today. She already knew her reasons and hinted at them, which V would only confirm later. I told her about how similar we are (with V, I mean), and how much I got from her, which is why it hurts so much, and she recognised the similarities in our personalities. The hard-to-approach, a bit distant feel about us, but, if we like someone enough, we will let them see us for who we are. I was relieved to have someone to share it with, who isn't directly involved.

English as a foreign language. I spend the break before crying. It's also when I wrote my announcement to you guys, sat on top of my desk, my chest tight from pain, sight blurry. We had to do groupwork in class, and so, because I knew I'd be hard to work with in this state, I asked the teacher to let me out for 5 minutes. I ran to the bathroom, sobbed there for as long as I needed, to clear my head enough to be able to work effectively, then went back to class. As I walked back, I saw V through the door window of the opposite classroom. It kicked the air out of my lungs for a second, but still, I stepped in, head held high, but face and eyes red from crying. The teacher there told me: "There are unpleasant surprises in life.", then started asking us how we found out. She probably asked the others what happened to me. And yeah. There are. Unpleasant, indeed.

But the surprises that followed were incredibly far from unpleasant.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

#tc #tcc #teacher crush community #female tc #female teacher crush

[mitchsmarners]

i can be your hero

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier (reddie) word count: 2,205 summary: It’s funny. I looked at this essay question for nearly week, and gave up on it twice. I wouldn’t apply, because this was too hard. How was supposed to pick a hero? How could I pick somebody good enough for some big college board? I wouldn’t lie, and pick some great politician or people who did amazing things. Because yes, they’re amazing and wonderful and should be looked up to. But are they my personal hero? No. If I was going to answer this, I needed to tell the truth. And there’s only one person who could really be MY hero. ITFandomWeek2019: Day seven | Accidental Confession

read on ao3.

Eddie Kaspbrak let himself into Richie’s room, as he always did. In his life, the Tozier household had become a second home for Eddie. A safe place to go when things got just a little too intense with his mother, a happy place to be on days when Eddie just wants to be free from his thoughts for awhile. There was something so comforting about Richie’s house- and his bedroom in particular- that sometimes Eddie would come here even when Richie wasn’t home.

Like days like this, when Richie’s shift at the video store wouldn’t be over for at least another half hour, but he knew that Richie wouldn’t be surprised to find Eddie hanging around in his bedroom.

Something caught Eddie’s attention on Richie’s usually empty desk. A huge envelope, with several pieces of paper surrounding it. Eddie moved over and quickly saw that it was nothing less than an acceptance package from UCLA. Eddie frowned. Richie hadn’t mentioned anything about applying to colleges, in fact, he’d seemed admittedly against so much as talking about it. Whenever it came up, Richie would immediately deflect the conversation until the other Losers eventually stopped bringing it up when he was around.

Yet here was not only proof that Richie had applied to schools, but that he’d gotten accepted to at least one. Eddie reached for the papers, going through and wondering if it could give any sort of answer to why his best friend had been hiding this from him.

Seemingly hidden under all the dorming information, was a printed out paper. Eddie grabbed it and pulled it to his face. It became clear almost immediately that it was Richie’s application essay and Eddie quickly scanned the beginning.

It’s funny. I looked at this essay question for nearly week, and gave up on it twice. I wouldn’t apply, because this was too hard. How was supposed to pick a hero? How could I pick somebody good enough for some big college board? I wouldn’t lie, and pick some great politician or people who did amazing things. Because yes, they’re amazing and wonderful and should be looked up to. But are they my personal hero? No. If I was going to answer this, I needed to tell the truth. And there’s only one person who could really be MY hero.

My hero is Eddie Kaspbrak. My best friend. The strongest person I’ve ever met. And he’ll never know it, but he’s my whole world.

Eddie made an awkward, hhhhh noise from the back of his throat and starred blankly at the paper. He should put it away, he knew he should. He should put everything back exactly where he found it, and walk away. Pretend he never saw it. Wait for Richie to tell him about UCLA.

However, Eddie found himself falling into the sit in front of Richie’s desk while still holding his essay.

I know what this probably sounds like. This is another boo boo gay kid, crying let me into your school! I’m gay! That isn’t what this is. Maybe a little, because I am gay, and you should let me into your school, but there’s more to this than that.

Eddie shook his head, dwelling on how Richie still seemed to such a Trashmouth even in a college application. Then the whole “I’m gay” comment hit Eddie and the hair on his arms all stood on end. Richie was gay? Richie talked about tits and vagina and sex so much, that Eddie had never even considered that possibility. Richie Tozier was straight, hella straight. One of the straightest people he’d ever known. And yet... was this some big game? A lie to get himself into school? A school Eddie didn’t even know that Richie wanted to go to? Did Eddie know Richie at all?

It might be a little weird, actually, to tell you all this stuff. It’s not like you know Eddie, or that any of this would mean anything to you. Another application of hundreds on your desk, to be tossed aside and forgotten about. So, I guess I’'m going to keep talking. That’s a skill of mine. These are things I need to say, and things I need somebody to hear, even if it’s somebody who won’t care and will probably never think of me, or this, again. Perfect captive audience.

As stated above, Eddie Kaspbrak is the strongest person I know. If even half of the things Eddie went through happened to me, I don’t doubt I would’ve curled up into a tiny ball and never moved again for the rest of my life. Eddie, thought, he just keeps going. Doesn’t even give it a second thought, just lets it happen. When Eddie was just a kid, his dad died. He had cancer and I’m not sure he remembers it very well. He doesn’t talk about it much.

Eddie remembered everything. He’d only been five years old, and most of his earliest memories center around his father in hospital beds. He sees pictures of a healthy Frank, his non-dying father, and he has no memories of that man. His mother hadn’t kept any memoirs of his father during his dying days, so Eddie has no connection to the man who was to be his father in pictures, and the father in all his memories.

I know it hurts him, though. How could it not? He just takes it all. He doesn’t even have a parent to turn to, because Eddie’s mother isn’t good. She’s, frankly, quite crazy. She was so afraid of something happening to Eddie that she convinced him he had all these diseases growing up. Asthma, and a bunch of other stuff. Had him half convinced that he could die just from getting dirty. Had him talking placebo medicines every day to control him. Had him thinking that he was weak and sickly.

Maybe she believed it, too. After Eddie told me about the fake medicine- and I’ll always remember that day, I wanted to physically fight his mother because I’d never seen my Eddie upset- I looked up stuff like that. I didn’t understand much, but there’s some sort of psychological disorder that makes somebody all attention seeking and make up all these symptoms for their kids. I never told Eddie about them, because I didn’t want to make him feel any worse about it, or forgive her and let her keep doing what she was doing. I was proud of him for standing up for him, and I still am. I always will be.

Eddie blinked hard, eyes suddenly burning with tears. He lowered the letter for a second and took a deep breath. He could still turn around it, put the essay back on Richie’s desk and pretend that he didn’t ever see it. Besides Richie being gay, Eddie hadn’t read anything he didn’t already know. Richie thought his mother was crazy? Eddie knew that. That Richie was proud of him for standing up to his mother? Richie had made sure that Eddie knew that.

And yet.

It’s not even just that Eddie is strong. He’s so strong, but he somehow manages to be so, so caring. He’s not afraid to call me out on being dumb ass when I’m clearly being a dumb ass, but he’s still always there to pick my dumb ass up when I do something dumb. He’s always been there for me, even after he told me not to do something. When we were 13, I was messing around near the edge of the cliff of quarry. We used to jump off it all the time, it wasn’t too far a drop. As long as you were expecting a drop, which I wasn’t. Eddie, and all my other friends, had told him a hundred times to get away from the edge because I’d fall. I didn’t listen to them and then I fell in. It wasn’t too far a drop, as I said, but Eddie still jumped off after me to make sure he could stop from me drowning. He cursed me, then mocked me, but I never forgot that he was the only person who jumped after me. So maybe Eddie Kaspbrak is also my literal hero.

Eddie smiled, remembering that day clearly. The irrational fear that had been struck through him as he watched Richie trip backwards over the edge. He’d, of course, known that Richie had jumped off that cliff more times that Eddie would ever be able to count, but all he could think about was Richie hitting the water unprepared. Of all the terrible things that could happen to Richie in that water if he wasn’t ready to swim. So Eddie hadn’t given it a second of thought, just run and jumped after him.

Of course, Richie had been absolutely fine. Richie would swim. Eddie cursed him and smacked at him, but he’d done it all with a huge smile of relief all over his face.

And you know what, board admission lady. Or board admission man... board admission person. I’ve already stuck myself so far out there, that I might as well just waxed poetically, since I already have. Not only is Eddie Kaspbrak the strongest person I’ve ever met, and the most caring person I’ve ever met, but he’s also the most beautiful person I’ve ever known or ever will know. With the prettiest green eyes, and the softest brown hair, and those ridiculous freckles, I could fall in love with him every time I looked at him until the day I die.

There were no longer tears filling up his eyes, but tears that had leaked down his face and were dripping off his chin and nose. He used the hand that wasn’t clutching the essay like a vice grip, to wipe the wet frantically away.

And if I’m being honest, which I promised that I would be, Eddie is my hero because he has dreams. He has goals. He inspires me to have dreams and goals. I never wanted to go to college, never thought I’d do anything with my life, until Eddie started talking about going away. Talked about going to school, starting a life, getting away from his shit hand. It made me realize that life is more than just being born in a shitty town, and living and dying like your parents. That no matter where we started, or who they try to make us think we have to be, that we still get to choose who we are. Where we go. What we do. Who we love.

Eddie Kaspbrak is my hero, because Eddie Kaspbrak inspires me to live everyday.

“Hey Eds!” Richie cheered as he clicked the door shut behind him, tossing his backpack that Eddie knew from experience was packed up with his sweaty work uniform. Eddie startled, tossing the paper onto the desk but he watched Richie’s face  as he caught sight of the movement.

Richie paled immediately and he seemed to sway on the spot. Eddie wiped the tears away at faster rate, but found that more just kept replacing them. A broken noise came from the back of Richie’s throat before he cleared it. “Eddie. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie gaped at him, shaking his head. “What the hell are you sorry for? Richie-” Eddie stood up, grabbing Richie’s hands and trying to pull him closer but Richie wouldn’t budge. “Richie nobody has ever said those sort of things about me, I can’t believe... Richie, would you look at me?”

“You were never supposed to know.” Richie said through a strained voice. Eddie could see the emotion all over Richie’s face, the walls forcibly ripped down. He could see the Richie who wrote those words, so perfectly mixed with the Richie that he’d always known that it made Eddie a little lightheaded. “I shouldn’t have even written that shit. I never wanted to ruin our friendship, okay, I just... I needed to get it out and seemed perfect and-”

Eddie pressed a hand over Richie’s mouth and knew that his own face was breaking. “Richard. Shut the fuck up.” Eddie said slowly, trying not to break down into tears. “You don’t get to apologize for the most amazing thing that I’ve even seen or read or...” Eddie closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “I’ve never had somebody see me like that.”

Eddie’s hand moved away from Richie’s mouth to cup his cheek. Eddie stepped forward so their chests are pressed mostly together and he looks up at him. “Everybody should see you that way,” Richie said, voice raw and rough. “I see you like that always.”

Eddie closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together. His hands slid into Richie’s messy (admittedly kind of sweaty) curls and their lips moved together for several moments before Richie pulled back with a pained gasp. “Eddie... is this just because the essay?” Richie asked, eyes closed tightly. “Because I literally cannot-”

Eddie kissed him softly once more, stroking Richie’s jaw with his thumb. “It gave me the nerve.” Eddie admitted bashfully. “But the feelings have always been there. For you.”

Richie let out a little sob before sealing their lips together again.

#reddie #reddie fic #it fanfiction #itfandomprompts #itfandomweek

[sonicrainicorn]

In My Life

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 10618 Desc.: Patton always lived under the assumption that blood was thicker than water. But if a patient needs type B- you can’t give them A+. So if there’s family that isn’t the blood type you need... why risk a fatal reaction? TW: Transphobia, homophobic language, queer used as a slur, general bullying, suicide (mention), minor character death (mention), brief discussion of sex, bad coming out experiences

///

Patton didn’t remember being an only child. He was two years old when Damien was born and three years old when Alexandria was born. His earliest memories have always been filled with siblings.

Supposedly, when Patton held both his siblings for the first time, he fell in love with them. He didn’t say anything, but he held them close and stared at them like they were the most fascinating things he had ever seen.

And that’s how it had always been.

Patton loved both of his siblings more than anything — he loved his family. By the time he was five, he decided to give as much love to his family as he could. Every day he would say that he loved them. Before leaving for school, he’d hug his parents and give his siblings each a kiss on their foreheads. Alexandria always giggled and babbled at him while Damien made a face as if he was unimpressed with it. (But he’d get mad if Patton tried to leave without giving him one.)

It was normal. Easy. Typical. There was nothing special about his upbringing. He lived a picture-perfect life with a nuclear family. That was the American dream, wasn’t it? That’s what many people tried to achieve. And he had it right from birth. Looking back on it as an adult, he was rather… privileged. He didn’t realize it growing up. Not everyone had a life like he did. Not everyone was as lucky.

That's what his grandma tried to teach him.

"Patton, sometimes things are difficult for other people," she would always say. "You have to stand up for them whenever they need it. Help them when you can. Everyone listens to people like us. Use it for good."

His mom didn't like the way she talked sometimes. He overheard her once, berating her own mother of trying to raise her children to be anarchists.

When he learned what that word meant, he didn't think it was accurate.

He liked his grandma a lot. She was kind and full of lessons and stories. Plus, she was really good at baking. That was a great trait in any grandmother — any person, even.

But sometimes his parents fought with his grandma. Only sometimes. They had arguments about the way she saw the world and the way she tried to teach it to Patton and his siblings. He didn't understand why they couldn't both be right. Parents were always right. And all his grandma ever said was to be nice to people no matter how "strange" they may seem. That seemed right, too.

Still, they didn't get to see their grandma that often.

And it wasn't until middle school that her views on the world started to make sense to Patton.

There was a boy in his grade named Seth. He was shy and didn't have many friends, but he was nice. Patton had two classes with him. He never gave him much thought, though. Not until he saw some other boys picking on him. It was what his dad referred to as "harmless fun", so he didn't say anything at first. He watched from the sidelines as things turned less harmless and less fun. He didn't step in until they pushed him over.

He wasn't much of a fighter. He was a runner. Literally. He was on the cross country team. These boys could snap him in half without breaking a sweat. That didn't stop him from standing in. He was scared and nervous, but he stood between Seth and the other boys. “Leave him alone,” he said in the strongest voice he could muster. “He hasn’t done anything to you.”

The boys were surprised. They looked between each other, unsure of what to do. No one had ever stopped them before. One of them tried to make a move but was halted by the leader. At least, Patton assumed he was the leader. “Sure,” he said, annoyed. “We were done.” Then they left.

Patton didn’t sigh in relief until they were out of sight. All of his limbs were trembling and his heart hammered in his ears. He wasn’t sure what they’d do, but he was glad they were gone. “Are you okay?” He turned to Seth.

Seth stared up at him in shock. “You helped me.”

“Uh, yeah. It looked like you needed it.” He extended a hand.

Seth continued to stare at him. Slowly, he accepted the offer. “Thank you.”

They became friends after that.

It was a gradual thing. After helping him, Patton became more aware of Seth’s presence. He sent him smiles in class, stayed with him after school in the time before practice, stood up for him. Seth was wary of it at first. No one had ever helped him out before. But Patton assured him that he didn’t have an ulterior motive. He was doing it just to be nice, but he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries so he kept it to a minimum.

Seth was rather friendly once passed the anxious and shy walls. He was soft-spoken. Gentle. He avoided confrontation as much as possible. But he had passions. He was a very good artist. He loved animals. He liked hearing stories.

Patton enjoyed his presence. He didn’t understand why other people picked on him. They just didn’t know him.

Maybe the thing was they thought they did.

He heard what his friends said. Their mean whispers based on speculation. Patton was never one for rumors. But everyone thought Seth was odd. A weirdo. A pansy. There were a lot of adjectives thrown around about him that everyone was convinced were fact. The thing about rumors, however, is everyone is convinced their version of the story is correct.

"What?" Patton looked at his friend incredulously.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I heard it from Jaime. He likes guys."

"Well, I like you guys." Sometimes.

"Not like that." Ryan stepped in. "As in like them. Like," he leaned over and made kissy faces at Samson.

"Gross! Get out of here!" He tried to push him back.

Patton rolled his eyes at their shenanigans. He didn’t understand the big deal. His grandma had an old picture of her kissing a girl when she was younger. She put it up in the hallway of her house to make his dad angry. He saw it every time they went over. It was a normal thing.

Still, Patton decided to ask his parents about it.

His dad’s reaction was to be expected. “It’s wrong. Two men shouldn’t be together like that. It isn’t natural. If God wanted two men to be together, he would have made one for Adam.”

“But —” If God didn’t want men to be together, he wouldn’t have made some people that way. And didn’t God make everyone a certain way? Isn’t that what you said? — “Mom?”

Mom sighed softly. She was mending one of Alexandria’s dresses. “Listen to your father, sweetheart.”

~~~

As the cross country season switched over to track and field, Patton and Seth became closer friends. There were still rumors and name-calling, but they tried to ignore it as best as they could. Patton stood up for Seth whenever he needed to. A lot of people started calling Patton things as well. They didn’t understand why he continued to hang out with Seth Summers of all people.

He was a good friend, that’s why.

Recently, he started waiting after school for Patton to finish practice. He said it was so he could do homework in peace and then get a ride home. Patton saw the reasoning in that. He had been to Seth’s house. He knew how chaotic it got with all those siblings.

Turned out Seth was also the oldest. But he had one more sister than Patton did. She was only a few months old, and Seth loved her to death. Besides all the kids, there was also Mrs. Summers and her parents. Patton never asked about Mr. Summers, and Seth never told him. Nevertheless, it was a lot of bodies in a tiny house. It would make sense to want to spend time out of that.

And Patton’s mom liked Seth, so it was no issue taking him home.

It became a routine. Every day after school, Seth would walk with Patton up to the track and then sit in the bleachers and do homework until it was time to leave. Mondays and Wednesdays Alexandria had band practice, so she was always in the car by that time. Tuesdays and Thursdays Damien had baseball practice, so he also had a spot on the car before them. Fridays were the only days where it was just the two of them in the backseat. Sometimes Seth came over on those days.

“Isn’t it weird to be the only boy?” Damien asked as he readied to swing the bat. They were in the backyard since Dad said Damien needed more practice.

“Not really.” Seth was sitting on the porch. “It is what it is. Plus, Marianna is more of a boy than I am. She likes football and getting dirty. All those types of things.” He followed the baseball with his eyes.

Alexandria caught it in her mitt. “Is there anything wrong with that?” She handed it back to Patton.

“No.”

Patton kept the ball in his hand. They had been at this for a while already. He could tell both Alexandria and Damien were getting tired of it.

To prove his point, Damien let out a pitiful sound and slumped his shoulders. “I have a game tomorrow. How long does Dad expect us to do this?”

Alexandria plopped down on the grass to give herself a break from chasing the ball. “We’ve been doing it forever.”

Before Patton could agree and say they should head inside, their dad poked his head out. "Alexandria, if you're going to sit on the ground sit like a lady." She huffed and sat properly. "Why are you using your brother's glove? Let Patton do the catching."

"But I suck at catching," Patton whined.

Damien leaned against his bat. "Yeah, he sucks at catching. Al is a lot better at it."

"Baseball isn't for girls," Dad said pointedly. "Come inside Alex. Let the boys play."

"But I —"

"Now."

Alexandria sighed and threw off the glove. She trudged in the house without looking up at anyone.

"You two,” he pointed between his sons, “start catching."

"But —" Damien tried to interject.

"No buts. The only way to improve is to practice." He went back inside.

"That seemed a little harsh," Seth muttered after a moment.

Damien huffed and picked up his glove from where Alexandria threw it. "Dads are just like that."

Patton frowned at the baseball.

The next week started their routine all over again. Same days. Same things. Except on Thursday, there was a slight break in their established schedule. Patton walked out of the locker room, expecting to see Seth waiting nearby, but that didn't happen. Seth wasn't there.

Surprised, Patton looked all around the building. Nothing. This was a first. Patton decided to go back up to the track to see if he was still there. He didn't know where else to look.

As he walked up, he spotted someone under the bleachers. They seemed about the right size and shape for Seth.

“Hey, what are you doing up here?” Patton ducked under. “My mom’s gonna come by soon.” He wasn’t met with a response. “Seth?”

There was a pause. Then Seth turned to face him, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Patton froze.

"Everyone hates me, Pat.” He wiped his eyes. “They all think I’m weird, or gross or — or whatever it is they say about me.” He put his face in his hands. “No matter what I do it’s never going to change.”

“I…” Patton didn’t know how to respond. “I think it can change.”

Seth dropped his hands, partially glaring at Patton. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re Patton Calon. Everyone loves you. You have a perfect life — you’re perfect.” He slumped to the floor. “Straight A student, star athlete, handsome, funny. You’re great at everything. I don’t understand why you hang out with me.”

“I can’t bake.”

Seth looked up at him. “What?”

“I’m not good at baking.” Patton sat beside him. “It always ends up burnt or tasting weird no matter what I do. And I’m bad at drawing. I don’t know how to read sheet music. I’m not much of a catcher. My handwriting is terrible.” He shrugged. “We’re all bad at something as much as we’re good at other things. And I like hanging out with you. You’re fun, and nice, and interesting. I wouldn’t trade any moment I’ve spent with you for anything else.”

Before Patton could even blink, Seth’s lips crashed into his. His eyes widened and a surprised squeak remained caught in the back of his throat. He didn’t know how to respond. Yet as quickly as it started, it was over. Seth pulled back as a slow realization crossed his face.

“Oh my God,” he uttered in horror. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I’m sorry. I —”

Patton did the only thing he could think to do to stop Seth’s rambling. He connected their lips together. It was messy and clumsy, but it got its point across. “Come on,” Patton said after. “My mom will be here soon.” He extended a hand to help Seth up.

Seth didn’t do anything other than stare at him. Slowly, he gave a soft smile. “Alright.” He took Patton’s hand.

They didn’t let go until they saw the car.

~~~

One day, there was an incident. 

Patton and Seth walked together into school, as was their habit, and talked between themselves. Ever since their kiss, something shifted. Spending time together was different. Sharing glances was different. Sometimes it felt like they were in their own little world. 

They didn’t notice something was off until they got to Seth’s locker. 

A group of students was around it, whispering — some snickering. Patton made his way through them to help Seth to his own locker. When he got there he stopped in his tracks. Seth crashed into his back at the sudden stop and moved around to see what was wrong. He didn’t show anything but surprise at first.

All of their lockers were light blue. It was one of the school’s colors, so it made sense. But it only made the thick, black marks stand out more. They curled into five messy letters. Harmless on their own, but together they implied something cruel. An assumption. Queer.

At the time, it was still used mostly as an insult. Patton didn’t understand why it was. As a word by itself, it wasn’t very mean or unpleasant sounding. When people gave it a meaning, that’s where all the hate came from. He heard it once in passing. Not to him or anyone he knew, but to a man wearing a dress. He didn’t ask what it meant. The person that said it sounded angry so he assumed it was a bad word. The man didn’t seem upset by it; he just ignored the person and waited for his bus.

His grandma was with him. She was taking him and Damien and Alexandria somewhere. He didn’t remember. He had a feeling if they weren’t there she would have said something. Instead, she grumbled, “Damn hick town.” and kept walking, tugging Damien and Alexandria along a little faster.

“Grams, what’s wrong with wearing a dress?” Alexandria asked before Patton could ask something similar. She was only five.

“Nothing,” Grams responded. “Anyone can wear whatever they want no matter who they are.”

“Even boys in dresses?” Damien questioned in his quiet voice.

“Yes, even them.”

Since then, it was the only time Patton heard the word. But now, here it was written on his friend’s locker. He couldn’t help but remember the way that person said it. Hateful. Full of anger and venom. That’s the way someone wrote it. That’s how they wanted it to be seen. They succeeded.

Seth turned and ran, pushing himself through the crowd. Patton remained frozen for a moment before regaining control of his body and following after him. The kids around them whispered even louder.

He followed him into the restroom, not making it in time to stop one of the stalls from shutting. The bell rang for the start of the school day. Patton ignored it. “Seth?” He gently knocked on the stall door. “Are you okay?”

“I told you,” Seth sobbed. “I told you it wouldn’t change. You’re better off without me.”

“I…” Patton didn’t know what to say. “I like you. I like hanging out with you. You’re — you’re nice.”

“Just go to class. You shouldn’t be late because of me.”

He idled. What was he supposed to do if Seth didn’t want to listen to him? “Um, o-okay, um, I’ll see you later then.” He still hesitated. “I can stay —”

“Don’t.”

Patton winced. “Okay. I-I’ll, um, I’ll go. You know where to find me.”

But Seth didn’t go to find him. He stayed hiding the rest of the day. Somewhere not even Patton could find. And Patton looked everywhere when he found the restroom empty. He was gone. Maybe moving spots like some horrible game of hide-and-seek. Eventually, Patton was forced to give up. He had to go home. If he were given a choice, he would have kept searching.

The next day Seth didn't show up for school. Or the next. Or the next after that. Patton started to wonder what was going on; Seth had never missed so much school before. He was another missed day from going over to his house to see what happened.

He didn't have to.

He walked into school that morning, alone again. He noticed a group of students around his locker. Annoyed and aggravated by the mystery of his friend, Patton pushed through the group without so much as a sorry. He wished he didn't.

In that same black permanent marker was a word. A similar word to the one on Seth's, except this one was… meaner. Patton realized he heard his father say it a few times. Maybe this person heard it the same way. It was ugly from all angles. There wasn’t any way to make it seem innocent. It was obvious this was meant to hurt. It was mean and awful. Not a word kids say unless their parents say it first.

Damn hick town, indeed.

Patton couldn't look away from it. He was sure this would be seared into his brain forever. It looked burned into his locker. He reached out and touched it, swiping his finger along all six letters, but it didn't do a thing. It had dried long ago. There was nothing to do but scrub it off. He didn't want to do that, though. He would rather take the door off its hinges and throw it as far as he could. He'd rather break it to pieces. But he knew if he did that then he'd get into more trouble than the person who wrote the word. So the door stayed where it was. The word stayed where it was. No one said anything.

The bell rang.

That was the thing that snapped Patton out of his trance. He didn't touch his locker. He left to go to class before the other kids even moved.

Class announcements always started in first period at the same exact time every day without fail. Except for today. Today they were late. Not by much, but enough to notice that they were missing. When the familiar sound to begin announcements finally turned on, all the students in class settled down one by one. There was a single announcement made.

Seth Summers passed away yesterday afternoon.

The room went eerily quiet. It didn’t even sound like anyone breathed.

Patton sure as hell didn’t. All the air had been stolen from him like he landed flat on his back. He stared at the empty chair two seats away from him.

The announcement continued, stating rather vaguely that he killed himself. Of course, it was said as politely as such a tragedy can be said. Though it still felt pretty blunt to Patton. He looked for Seth everywhere. He should have stayed with him in the bathroom. He should have decided to go over sooner. He should have done something but instead, he sat around and waited. And now it was too late.

There was a moment of silence to end the announcement. Even when it was over no one uttered a word.

While Patton sat there in the tense, blanket of quiet, he promised that he would never let this happen again to anyone. If he didn’t make this promise, he’d fear it would happen again. He felt it was up to him to stop it. He didn’t want anyone he cared about reaching their breaking point. Whether it meant standing up for them or talking them off the edge, he’d do it. Whatever it took.

~~~

When Alexandria was thirteen she told Patton she had an issue. And Patton, being her older brother, seemed like the best person to go to. Well, other than Grams. Grams was always the number one choice for the siblings whenever the option arose. But they hadn't seen her recently so she went to Patton.

She walked into his room while he was doing homework. Before he could even acknowledge her, she started speaking, "Do you ever feel like… your clothes are wrong?"

Patton stared at her. She was twisting the end of her shirt in her hands, avoiding his gaze while her cheeks turned bright red. "Uh, what do you mean by that?"

"I-I just mean like — like you don't think they're right. There's something wrong with… how they look."

"I can't say that I know the feeling." Patton set his pencil down. He could finish later. "I rather like my clothes. I think they suit me."

"Y-yeah, well, um, that's the thing. I… I don't…" She balled her shirt in her hands. "I don't think my clothes suit me."

"I'm sure Mom will take you shopping."

She cringed at that. "I don't like going shopping with Mom. She only picks out what she wants me to wear."

"Well, Dad doesn't like shopping at all."

"And even if he did, he'd probably choose whatever he thinks I should be wearing."

Patton frowned a bit. "We could ask Grams."

"I feel like maybe she'd be the only one to get it." She dropped her shirt. "I-I'll ask her when we see her." She turned to leave.

"Alex, wait."

She hesitantly turned back to him.

He could tell something was off, but he couldn't place what. Alexandria was normally an eccentric person; she wasn't a wallflower by any means. She liked being loud and went in with a hundred percent confidence with everything. She goofed off, often causing mischief with Damien, and loved with every inch of her heart. "Is that really all you wanted to say?"

"No, but…" She hesitated again before taking a seat on his bed. “I don’t know if this will make any sense to you. I-it’s not only that my clothes look wrong, it’s that — it’s like they don’t fit right, either.”

Patton sat beside her. “Why don’t they?”

“I don’t know.” She hugged her knees. “It's like they’re too small. It's uncomfortable and I hate it, but everyone else is acting like it's normal. I want to wear something that I fit in. Something that feels right. But everyone — Mom, Dad — they're all handing me clothes too small and forcing me to wear them. They're shoving it in my face and I — I just —” She buried her face in her knees. “I just want to be normal.”

He didn’t know what to say for a moment. He had no idea what she was going through. “Let’s talk to Grams.” He stood up.

She looked up at him in surprise. “What?”

“We both know she has all the answers all the time. Let’s go see her.”

“But, but  Mom —”

“She’s not here.”

That was true. She searched for another excuse. “W-well, you don’t even have a license.”

“Well, I know how to drive.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Not if you don’t get caught.” He mussed up her hair, pushing some strands in her face. “C’mon. There’s only so much time Dad can handle pretending to pick out groceries.” He pulled her to her feet.

She didn’t have anymore protests as he took her down the stairs. Damien was by the kitchen with his hand in a box of Cheez-It crackers. “What are you guys up to?” He took out a handful of tasty orange squares.

“We’re gonna see Grams,” Patton answered, already opening the door.

Damien tossed the box back on the dining table. “And you weren’t going to tell me? Unbelievable.” He followed them out and offered some of his Cheez-Its to Alexandria.

~~~

No one could make a choice for Alexandria. They could only present her with options. It wasn’t anyone’s decision but her own.

Once he chose what to do it became rather hard to switch over.

Not that no one tried — they did. But once you know someone one way for nearly fourteen years, it’s hard to break a habit. Still, they tried. Damien, Patton, and Grams. They were the only ones he told. There was no one else he trusted as much as them. Which was heartwarming, really, but that was only three people out of everyone he knew. He didn’t even trust his friends enough to tell them.

In a town like this, it wasn’t too far off to assume everyone would be against it.

But despite that, he seemed happy to finally have a name to put to what he felt. He wasn't alone. There were other people like him.

Grams, predictably, was a big help. She didn't have an answer at first — hadn't had experience with it before — but she worked tirelessly to figure one out. Both she and Alexandria spent a lot of time together doing research. (Most of it behind parents' backs.) It meant a lot to Alexandria to have someone help him out through all the confusion. Patton and Damien were always there, but they didn't partake in any research. They felt odd doing it. Like they were intruding somehow.

Which made sense when Grams — Rosie Picani — came out to them as agender.

Looking through all the answers made her realize that not everyone felt the way that she did. What she was had a different name. In her case, it wasn't that the clothes fit wrong, it was that she was tailoring them herself the whole time and assumed everyone did the same. Apparently, it was never too late to discover new things about yourself.

With identities out of the way, there was still an issue of what to be called. In Alexandria's case anyway. Grams was fine with still being Rosie. She was fine with still being referred to as "she" — it wasn't as if she had much of a preference to begin with. But Alexandria wasn't sure if he wanted to keep his name. Not that he was called that every day or anything. Normally it was Alex. Sometimes Al in the case of Patton and Damien. He was only ever called Alexandria when he was in trouble.

"Names can be special," Grams said once. Their parents were there so she kept it vague. Played it off like some old-age wisdom. "Every one has a meaning. Some grand. Some small. But we have them for a reason. Perhaps you can say there are certain names we were always meant to have. Whether we choose them or not.”

And, once again, no one could make the choice for Alexandria. It was up to him to decide.

So as much as Patton wanted to be an overbearing older brother, he wouldn’t. Or rather, he couldn’t. It wasn’t his life to live — it wouldn’t be right to step in. He and Damien had been in the background every step of the way, and they would continue to do so. They were only there for support — not to meddle.

When he came into Patton’s room one day, telling him his preferred name, Patton just smiled. He messed with his hair the same way he always did, and said, “Sure thing, Emile.”

After that, Patton thought it would be over. Everything was settled, wasn’t it? Yes, there were accidents — slips of the tongue that were difficult to overcome — but soon everything locked into place. That should have been the end, right? Emile with his proper name and pronouns. A happy ending.

It wasn't that simple.

Many years later, a month before Patton left for college, he heard shouting down the hall. Angered shouting. He ended the call with his friend and opened his door. The shouting hit him full force. It was his dad. That shouldn't have been surprising to him. Whenever there was yelling, most of the time it was his dad.

He followed it to Damien's room but didn't walk in. He stayed next to the doorway. Out of sight, but still able to hear. If there was one thing he learned from all his years, it was to never interrupt Dad while he was in the middle of a rant. No matter how horrible it was.

"You are my daughter. Start acting like it."

Damien tried to protest.

"Don't defend her. You shouldn't even be lending her your clothes, anyway."

Patton waited. He let his dad scream at his little brothers without stepping in. Without saying a word. He waited until his dad left. He didn't talk to him. They both pretended the other wasn't there. Only when he was down the stairs did Patton look into the room. Damien scowled at the ground. Emile tried not to let his tears go. He didn't succeed. He threw himself at Damien and cried into his shoulder. Damien hugged him without a word. He spotted Patton, giving him a glare that said, "Why didn't you do anything?"

But Patton didn't have a response. All he could think was that he'd be leaving them soon. It wasn't his choice, really. He didn't want to go to a university, but his parents insisted. He tried to tell them that going to a four-year school for an associate's degree was a waste of money, but they didn't listen. They were hoping he'd change his mind about his career choice. They wanted him to do something "better". So, in the middle of being annoyed and wanting to be away from his parents, he chose a school in the farthest state he could get to.

He didn't think about what that might mean for his brothers.

~~~

University life was not at all what Patton was prepared for. Not that he was prepared for much. He was just a dumb country boy from a small town. That's everything he had ever known for eighteen years. Most people there didn't even think about college. But here he was. A new place. A new state.

No family.

At all.

For the first time in his life, he was completely alone. No brothers right down the hall. No parents arguing in the kitchen. No grandmothers a few streets away. He was on his own. He was somewhere where new faces were common and you were lucky to see anyone more than once. He couldn't name everyone he saw. He didn't know what they did or what their parents did or how long they had lived here. He was surrounded by strangers.

It was scary and new, and… he got used to it.

The first few weeks were rough, but once he settled in, he really settled in. This was the type of place he belonged to. New people, new places, new experiences — he had no idea life could be this way. There was so much to do and see, but not enough time to do and see them. He still had to go to school, after all. But he made the most of it. Out of everything. He stayed on top of his classes while also going out with friends every other night. It was the most organized he had ever been in his life.

He met so many people in his first year alone; not all of them remained friends. Now, he didn't want to say he slept around, but… he didn't exactly say no to very many advances. Men, women, both — on occasion. Whoever. Whenever. If they were willing, so was he. Though, he did have a few actual relationships that continued longer than a night (or two). Some didn't last long. Others lasted a while. There was one with a girl that lasted half a year. That was certainly a fun time for both of them. He started to get a bit of a reputation as a playboy, though. Never, in his entire life, did he think that would be applied to him.

He didn't consider himself one. He just enjoyed being with people. He's sure he's fallen in love a little bit with everyone he's ever met. But not everyone was like that. Some people only give their hearts to those they truly love. Patton left a piece of his heart with everyone. Not a lot of people understood that.

Regardless, college life was something he never knew he needed and he rather enjoyed it.

But at the start of his second year, something came up. His phone started to ring in the middle of the night. He opened his eyes to a vaguely familiar room and groped around for his phone so he could shut it up. The bright light blinded him for a moment, but he was able to make out the caller ID.

"Emile?" He stared at it in confusion. The body beside him grumbled and shifted. He finally answered it. "Em? It's already passed midnight." Well, for Patton at least. There was an hour difference between them.

"I-I'm sorry, I just —"

"Are you okay?" He sat up, feeling more awake by the second. "What's wrong?"

He stifled a sob. “I, I tried to make them understand. M-Mom just — she just stood there. She, she didn’t s-say anything to stop Dad. I only wanted them to understand. I c-couldn’t — I-I didn’t want —” He was near hysterics. He kept sabotaging his own sentences and rambling.

“Em. Emi, breathe. What are you talking about? What happened?”

“I came out.”

Patton paused. He didn’t know what to think, or what to say. He’s heard horrible coming out stories before. He never thought he'd hear one from his own brother. "How… where are you? Where's D?"

"I, I'm going to Grams. I'm walking. They — Dad kicked me out. I-I don't know where D is. He must have snuck out before I told them."

Of course. Damien always did have terrible timing. "Just — just stay with Grams, okay? I'll try to be there as soon as possible." He threw the blankets off, startling the person beside him. He needed to start looking for a plane ticket.

~~~

So Patton dropped out.

His parents were disappointed, but he didn’t tell them why when they asked. Or at least, he didn’t tell them the real reason. He made something up. He needed a break or couldn’t handle it or something along those lines — they believed him. He hated how they made him a good liar.

The real reason was for Emile.

Patton caught the soonest flight home he could find. He didn’t tell his parents. He stayed with Grams while they figured out what to do next. Damien stopped by a few times. He didn’t say it, but Patton could tell he was guilty for not being there. Damien and Emile were practically best friends. Patton sometimes joked that they were twins. With only a year separating them, it was hard not to act so similarly. But the one night Emile needed him the most, he wasn’t there.

In the end, they decided that the best thing for Emile was to get him far away. He would stay with Patton in Florida. Unfortunately, his apartment was one bedroom. But there was no way in hell he was letting that stop him. He wasn’t going to let Emile stay in this damn hick town any longer than he had to. He had half a mind to take Damien, too, but he didn’t want to risk anything.

“Will you keep an eye on Damien for me?” Patton asked before they left.

“Of course,” Grams responded with a smile. “I’m his grandmother.”

It was a little over two months later when Damien showed up at Patton’s apartment. Patton wasn’t anticipating him. Neither he nor Grams called. Still, Damien walked in as if he was expected without a word. The only thing he brought with him was his backpack and whatever was in it. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the day. Not until that night. Patton heard him talking to Emile about what happened. He made a joke about their parents not being able to lie about Patton being the favorite now.

Patton didn’t know how to feel about that.

He let them talk between themselves. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t try to step in. He let them have their moment. When it was late in the night, he decided to check on them. They were fast asleep, curled up on the bed. The only bed. In the only bedroom.

A steady stream of air left Patton’s mouth. “We’re gonna need a bigger place,” he muttered to himself.

So he continued school at a community college — like he originally intended — made friends, started a new job, made more friends, got invited to a party once, and… a cute boy crashed into him. A cute boy with dark eyes like the night sky and faint freckles dancing along his nose.

“S-sorry.” The most gorgeous blush bloomed on his cheeks. “I suppose I didn’t see where I was going.”

Patton grinned, already knowing what he should say next.

~~~

Logan was different.

At first, Patton was planning to just have another fling, which was wrong and a bit unfair, but Logan didn’t show to have any interest in that. At all. And that was fine, of course, Patton wouldn’t force him into anything. But it was a first in a long while.

One of the earliest things he noticed was that Logan was sort of… timid. The same way a kitten is when dropped in a new place. Which is to say, suspicious of everything. Timid was a nice word for it, though. And much like a kitten, trust had to be built up slowly and over time. Patton wanted to be his friend. Except sometimes over-excited puppies and nervous kitties don’t always get along. So Patton made a conscious effort to take notes of what did and did not make Logan nervous when interacting with him.

For example, Logan didn’t like it when someone got too loud. He didn’t say anything about it, (he never did. Not about any of the things Patton noticed bothered him.) and if Patton didn’t pay half as much attention to people as he did, he probably wouldn’t have even realized it. It was a subtle thing. Whenever someone raised their voice — specifically to him — for whatever reason, he made himself smaller. He avoided their gaze. Replied non-verbally. Stayed like a coiled spring until the person diverted their attention elsewhere or relaxed.

He also didn't like being snuck up on. Patton did it once on accident and he was tense throughout the whole interaction.

Over time, Patton got better at avoiding the things Logan didn't like. He couldn't say why he was putting so much effort into this. Most people wouldn't pay as much attention or, because Logan never said anything, just ignore that their actions were harmful. But Patton wasn't doing that. He was trying. Maybe it was because Logan reminded him of someone. Or maybe it was because he saw that Logan was lonely. And maybe, somewhere deep down, Patton was lonely too.

~~~

The brothers had just moved into a new house when Logan came over to study. For as smart as Logan was, he was awful at studying. He didn't do it in a helpful way, and Patton was somewhat convinced he was doing it to torture himself. So Patton offered to help him study more constructively. At first, Logan was hesitant, but he eventually decided that doing it his way for four different classes wasn't going to cut it. Since then, they always studied together before quizzes or exams.

Emile was out at that time, going with a "friend" to the movies. Patton had a slight suspicion that there was a bit more than friendship going on, but he never mentioned it because, well, there was his own issue of giving Logan heart eyes every two seconds. He couldn't confront his brother about romantic feelings when he could barely confront his own.

Regardless, the only ones in the house were Patton, Logan, and Damien. Logan and Damien got along pretty okay for the most part. They were the same age, so they found things in common. One of the things they shared was sarcasm and wit. Their sole interactions were often a combination of the two, much to Patton's simultaneous amusement and dismay.

It wasn't much of a surprise when, seeing that Logan was over, Damien started with their banter right off the bat. Patton tried to shoo him away — studying was meant to happen — but he played the annoying younger brother card and refused to cooperate.

"If he stays he might stand to learn something," Logan quipped, taking out his notebooks. "There's only so much knowledge one can get when their sources are online conspiracy theories instead of going to class."

Damien laid across the armchair with his legs dangling. He studied his nails with interest. "Sorry, I can't hear you over the evidence of the Earth being flat."

"I'm going to pretend those words didn't come out of your mouth."

Much to Patton's surprise, Logan was able to squabble with Damien while retaining information at the same time. He could provide a counterpoint to their argument while giving Patton the definition of a genome in the same breath. It was rather impressive.

After a while, Patton started to tune out their part of the conversation. He caught snippets of things while he worked on transferring his own notes, but nothing that made him feel he had to step in. Until he noticed it. One of Logan's tells for when something is making him uncomfortable. Not wanting to make a big deal of it, Patton sighed, "D, please stop." to make it seem like he was annoyed with his brother.

But it wasn't enough. Like the spiteful booger he is, he continued. Louder. Not shouting, but enough to notice that he raised his voice. Then Logan flinched.

That was it.

"Damien," Patton snapped before he could stop himself.

Damien stopped out of pure surprise. Patton never called him by his full name.

All of the color drained out of Logan's face. He sat rigid and small, staring at the table as if it would come alive at any moment. "I should go." He shot up from the floor.

"Logan, wait —" the door was already closing before Patton could stand up. The room fell to complete silence. He looked at Logan's spot; he didn't take a single thing with him.

"I… I didn't mean to…" Damien seemed appalled by his own actions.

Patton sighed. "We'll talk about it later." He chased after Logan. He moved fast for such tiny legs. "Logan, wait a second."

"I'm going home." Logan's voice wavered with fragile confidence. A little kid who wants to be taken seriously.

"Wait —" on instinct, Patton grabbed his arm. Logan froze, looking up at him with fearful eyes. He immediately let go. "I'm sorry." He never wanted Logan to look at him like that again. "I… Please let me take you home."

Logan avoided his gaze. "I can walk."

Patton frowned. "That's a far distance to walk."

"I've ran it before," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing." He made himself smaller. "I-it's fine. I can walk."

"But —"

"Patton, I really want to be alone right now."

Patton stopped. It looked like he was about to fall apart any second. "Okay. Just — please text me when you get there."

Logan nodded and went on his way.

He let out a steady stream of air through his mouth. He needed to have a talk with his brother about boundaries.

~~~

Logan had a weird relationship with touch. When they first met, Patton noticed that Logan didn't want anyone touching him at any point. But it changed over time. Slowly. It shifted to "touch me and I'll have a panic attack" to "ask first" to "if you touch me while I can't see who you are, I'm going to hit you with my textbook".

It was one of the hardest things for Patton to keep in line. He was a touchy person. He liked hugs, and cuddling, and hand-holding, and… other things. But he held it all back for Logan. (Though, if Damien and Emile got extra bone-crushing hugs, they didn't point it out.) It was even harder when they started dating, yet Patton remained in control of himself.

"He's just so cute," Patton squealed. He was squishing Emile's cheeks to express his emotions. "I just want to kiss him, and squeeze him, and hold him forever."

"Why don't you?" Emile asked as best as he could.

Patton sighed and fell back against the couch, at last releasing Emile from his hold. "I can't. He's not comfortable with that stuff yet."

"Will he ever be?"

"Maybe." He sat up. "He's been getting better at not freaking out when I ask to hold his hand."

Emile made a face. "Is there a reason he's so sensitive to that stuff?"

Patton had a pretty big suspicion of one reason, but he never brought it up. And Logan never mentioned it. So it hung in the air between them, waiting for someone to break their silence on it. "I don't know."

The wheels seemed to be turning in Emile's head, no doubt analyzing every interaction he's ever had with Logan. Before Patton could distract him with something else, he snapped himself out of it. "Oh! I have to get ready." He stood up.

"Ready for what?"

"For his date," Damien chirped in a sing-song tone as he strolled into the kitchen.

Emile's cheeks turned pink. "It's not a date."

Damien snorted.

"With who?" Patton cut in.

"It's not a —" Emile huffed, giving up that fight — "I'm going with Remy."

"Remy? Is that who you've been going on dates with already?"

"Yes — no!" His face continued to get red. “They’re not  — I’ve never —” He covered his face with his hands. "Oh my gosh."

"How is it that, out of all of us, you're the worst liar?" Damien swirled around the bottle of lemonade he took from the fridge.

"I've never needed to. I'm the baby. Everyone believes what I say."

There was no argument there. “None of us should be good liars,” Patton pointed out.

“Says the best liar,” Damien muttered before taking a long sip of lemonade.

Patton’s jaw dropped. An offended noise left his mouth. “I am — I  don’t — I am not the best liar. Emi, tell him I’m not.”

“Well…”

Patton couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

Emile gave him a sheepish smile. “Mom and Dad do still think I’m staying with Grams and that you’re going back to UF.”

Damn.

“Best liar.” Damien lifted his lemonade in a toast before going back to his room. “If anyone can keep up an act for over a year, it’s you.”

Damn.

“Woah, look at the time,” Emile glanced at his bare wrist, “I gotta get ready.” He took off toward his room.

~~~

“I’ll pick you up after work, okay?” Patton said as Logan prepared to leave the car. “Don’t even think about trying to do homework or studying or anything. Free day today.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“Logan Sanders, I am serious. You deserve a break.”

Logan paused. He turned to Patton with a small smile. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Patton watched him go. They were approaching their second year of being together. The longest relationship Patton’s ever had. He didn’t want to mess it up. He liked Logan a lot — more than a lot. Maybe it was the early relationship buzz, but he couldn’t imagine his life without Logan in it. Well, at least everything was going well so far.

Sighing, Patton drove off to work.

After completing his associate’s, he was lucky enough to find a job at one of the nearby animal hospitals. He was happy to be able to work at his dream job. Unfortunately, he had a cat allergy, so he wasn’t allowed to touch any kitties unless there was a shortage of hands. On the bright side, antihistamines existed. Still — more for the hospital’s benefit than Patton’s — he wasn’t allowed to regularly check up on cats. It was a shame. Patton loved cats.

Sometime after lunch, Patton got a call. He had an instant bad feeling enter the pit of his stomach. No one ever called his phone. Sometimes his brothers sent texts, but they never called him. Ever. When he looked at his phone, he saw it wasn’t either of his brothers at all. It was Logan. Luckily, he was between patients, so he answered the call no problem.

He hoped nothing was wrong. “Hello?” He was met with silence. Then there was a soft hiccup. Like he had been crying. “Logan? Are you alright? Is something wrong?”

Logan hung up.

Patton was already moving before he even had time to think through his actions. On his way out, he told a nearby co-worker there was an emergency that needed to be taken care of. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t wait for questions. He just left. He needed to get to Logan.

A million different things were running through his head at once. Was he hurt? Did something happen to him? Was something happening to him right now? He knew Logan's schedule. He would be between classes at this time. That only opened up possibilities. It didn't ease any of his anxiety at all.

In fact, it increased when he got to campus and realized one thing: he had no idea where Logan was. It was a community college, so it wasn't that big, but a college campus is still a college campus. He could be anywhere. Patton had no idea where to look. There were too many places to hide or be alone — there was a chance Logan wasn't even on campus anymore. God, Patton hoped that wasn't the case. He didn't want to be too late. He couldn't.

He started running, asking a few people if they had seen someone matching Logan's description. No such luck. He must have looked crazy; some random person running around in scrubs asking for a student. But he didn't care. He had to find Logan. He wouldn't leave this damn school without him.

After an eternity, Patton found him. He was sitting in a patch of grass with a girl underneath a tree. She was talking to him, but he didn't seem up for replying. He looked like a mess.

"Logan?"

They both turned to him in alarm. He saw the girl quickly ask Logan questions (to which he nodded to), which led her to stand up and meet Patton halfway. He was kind of confused, but let it play out.

"Um, I don't really know how I should put this," she started. "I, uh, I saw your friend getting harassed earlier. By a man. I didn't recognize him, personally, but I think your friend might have." She shifted from foot to foot. "I called campus security and they said they would take care of it. I've been sitting with him since."

Patton didn’t know how to process that. Who would want to do something like that to Logan? “Thank you, uh…”

“Dahlia.”

“Dahlia,” Patton repeated with a small smile. “It was very nice of you to do those things.”

She mirrored his smile. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. I assume you can take it from here?”

“Yes. Thank you, again.”

She walked back to Logan and handed him a slip of paper. She gave him a smile, eyed Patton one last time, then left with her bag slung over her shoulder.

Patton took a seat beside him. He moved as if he didn’t want to startle a frightened animal. “You doing okay?”

“Fine.” Logan stared at the paper in his hands.

“Did you know him?”

“Just someone I met in class once.”

Patton could tell it was a lie. Logan wasn’t good at lying no matter how hard he tried to be. But Patton didn’t understand why he would need to lie about this. What was the point? He decided not to pry. “Do you want a hug?”

Logan looked up at him in surprise but hesitated to answer. “It’s alright.” He looked back down at the paper.

“I’m only going to ask again because I want a yes or no answer. If you say yes then that’s fine. If you say no, that’s okay too. I’m not inconvenienced by either. I just want you to know that you have a say in this. You shouldn't have to worry about bothering me or giving me an answer you think I want to hear. Give me an honest answer. So I’ll ask again — do you want a hug?”

Logan leaned into his side.

In response, Patton adjusted himself so that his arms could wrap around Logan. He was trembling. Neither of them said anything.

~~~

In the days following the incident, Logan seemed a little… off. Patton didn't mention it — pretended he didn't see how jumpy he had gotten. He figured Logan was still shaken up over it. And that was okay. Logan could take as long as he needed. But it didn't seem to get any better.

They were in his room when it happened. Thomas was out at work so it was just the two of them.

It was such a small thing. It shouldn't have mattered so much. Yet it seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

Logan tipped Patton’s cup of water over. Accidentally. He was getting off the bed and forgot it was on the floor. He was already apologizing and running to get the paper towels before Patton even realized what was happening.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he rushed out as he cleaned the mess. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Patton said softly. He didn’t understand why this was making Logan so frazzled. “Logan —”

“Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”

Patton moved to the edge of the bed. “Logan —”

“I swear it was an accident. I wouldn’t ever do this on purpose. I’m sorry. Please. I’m so sorry. I ruin everything —”

“Stop, Logan.”

Logan froze.

Patton lowered himself to the floor beside Logan. He made sure his actions could be read clearly. “Logan, honey, it’s okay. I know it was an accident. I wouldn’t ever think you did it on purpose. What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“I…” His eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’m… I was… He… I-I used to be…” He sighed, turning his eyes toward the ground. “I’m a mess, aren’t I? I just screw everything up eventually. Maybe, maybe you’re better off without me.”

Patton’s blood ran cold. He was immediately hit with mean words burned on lockers, crying in the bathroom, searching and searching for someone that wasn’t there. “No!” Before he could stop himself, he grabbed Logan’s hands with his own. He just — he needed a physical reminder that Logan wouldn’t vanish. They were a little cold and wet from cleaning up the water. 

“Please don’t say that. I love being with you. You’re smart and pretty and wonderful. I like seeing your smile, I love being able to make you laugh. I enjoy spending time with you, even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing. There’s nothing more beautiful than the way you look when you’re reading, by the way.” He smiled just thinking about it. “My life has changed in the best ways since I met you. I want to keep having you in it.”

Logan stared at him. “I love you,” he blurted out.

Patton blinked in surprise. Well. That certainly was unexpected.

Realization hit Logan in an instant. He gasped and threw his hands over his mouth, his whole face turning bright red in the process. “Oh my God. I didn’t — I mean I did but —”

Patton couldn’t help but laugh. “I love you, too, bumblebee.”

Logan lowered his hands and gave him a hesitant, relieved smile.

~~~

The day Patton married Logan was the best day of his life. It was a small affair, with neither of them having very many people to invite in the first place, but it was lovely all the same. Patton sent an invitation to his parents — just as an act of goodwill — but it was sent straight back to him without a response. His mother was at least kind enough to send congratulations and “money toward making a family of your own”. It was sort of unfortunate that they wouldn’t be there, but Patton figured it was for the best. He wouldn’t want to subject Logan to his parents’ scrutiny.

But there was one member of his family (besides his brothers) that didn’t turn him down.

“Grams!” Patton pulled her into a hug. It had been so long since he last saw her. “It’s so good to see you.”

She laughed. “The feeling is mutual, my dear. Now,” she pulled herself away with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “can I finally meet this boy you’ve never been able to stop talking about?”

“I didn’t talk about him that much.”

“Sweetheart, he was in every single letter you sent me from the moment you met him.”

Oh gosh, really? That was a lot, then. “Fine, I’ll get him. Logan!” He walked around the table to drag his husband away from his debate with Damien. Huh. Husband. He liked the sound of that. “Logan, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Rosie Picani.” She stuck her hand out before Patton could open his mouth again. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” Logan shook her hand. “Patton’s told me so much about you.”

“Oh, I’m glad to know it went both ways.”

“Stop.” Patton hid his face in his hands. “Oh my gosh.”

"If you don't mind me asking," she directed to Logan after smirking at Patton. "Where is your family?"

Logan grinned. A proper, genuine grin. "Right over there." He motioned to the table where Thomas and his friends were sitting. They were all engaged in an animated conversation, oblivious to the discussion about them. "I grew up with nearly everyone at that table."

Grams smiled. The corner of her eyes crinkled. "What a wonderful family."

Logan's broad grin turned to a shy and bashful smile. "Thank you."

~~~

Patton typically got home at around five o’clock. Sometimes later. Sometimes earlier. It depended on the day. Five o’clock was just the average. Usually, at that time things were settled down in the house. The twins would be in their room playing a game, and Logan would be grading papers or getting started on dinner. Except today, apparently.

When Patton walked through the door, he was greeted with… a sight. Logan had Roman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and Virgil under his arm like a very disgruntled cat. The living room looked as if someone turned it upside down and shook it.

“Oh, Patton,” Logan said, out of breath. The twins squirmed in his arms. “How was work?”

“It was good,” he responded slowly. “Tried to tell a woman her dog was overweight and she insisted he wasn’t even though he looked like a sausage. You know how it is. Uh, what, um, what went down here? If I may ask?”

“Well —”

“It was Virgil’s fault,” Roman interjected loudly.

“What? No, it wasn’t!” Virgil tried to get out of Logan’s grip. “Roman ruined my project.”

“I did not! It was already ruined before I got there. You’re the one that ruined my project.” He wriggled around.

“Because you did it first!”

They started yelling over each other and tried to break free.

“Okay! Stop, both of you,” Logan snapped. “It happened. Fighting over who did what and when isn’t going to change that. Will it make you feel better if I help both of you recreate your projects exactly how they were?”

“Yes,” they answered grumpily.

“Great.” He set them down. “If you two start fighting again I’m going to find a room far away and throw you both in it and take the key with me. Now go get your projects.”

They raced each other to their room.

“So it was an eventful day?” Patton opened his arms up for a hug. They had been together long enough that he didn’t have to use his words to ask permission. That’s not to say that he stopped asking — he always asked. He just did it a silent way.

“You have no idea,” Logan sighed. He collapsed in Patton’s arms as if he had been waiting for it all day. “Work always gets hectic at the end of the school year. And then the twins started fighting almost as soon as we got home.”

Patton rubbed his back. “Hm. I’ll handle dinner today, then — and cleaning up the living room. You just worry about helping the boys.” He paused. “The project is due tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll make breakfast, too.”

Later that night, long after Patton got ready for bed, he poked his head into the living room to see how his three favorite boys were doing. They were fast asleep, two completed projects in front of them. Logan had his back against the couch with Roman and Virgil’s heads in his lap. Roman still had an open glue stick in his hand.

Patton smiled. He was going to have to wake them up so they could sleep in their beds, but at this second, he just took in the sight. He loved them all so much. He always hoped to have a family like this one day. And here it was. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

~~~

Patton sat at the edge of the tub, messing with the ring on his finger. He ran out of tears a while ago, and yet it still felt like a new round could begin any second. 

The house was so silent. It hadn’t been that way in years. Some days he begged for it to be quiet again. Right now he wanted nothing more than the noise. He wanted to hear Roman and Virgil teasing each other or running around playing a game. He wanted to hear the Doctor Who theme from the living room or Logan berating the twins. But they weren’t here.

He sighed and put his face in his hands.

He messed up.

#it's about damn time #sanders sides #patton sanders #deceit sanders #emile picani #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #sibling prinxiety #logicality #transphobia tw #homophobia tw #suicide tw #minor character death #excessive use of the word damn #like wow #i used it a lot #berry done au

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 43: Breaking Down

-I M trying 2 make text messages look more like txts.- I will probably still veer towards -writing text messages spelled like ordinary dialogue- for the most part, with abbreviations sprinkled in once in a while. 

Becoming The Mask

+=+

The dream was … vague. Toby didn't see anything graphic or specific. He didn't scream or jolt upright when he woke. Describing what exactly happened, it wouldn't even sound like a nightmare.

Innocuous; that was the SAT word someone like Blinky might use to describe it.

Toby was at school. Probably school. There was grass underfoot but lockers nearby. Darci and Mary were with him but occasionally blurred into just one girl or the other. Jim arrived, and cheerily informed them all, "Did you hear? Claire's a rock star now."

And Toby knew, with absolute certainty, that Claire Nuñez was dead.

He stood there listening to nonsense words from his friends before the dream faded out and he woke up. His breath hitched. He was shaking. His eyes stung.

Oh, god, Claire was gone.

She, she couldn't be, they weren't down in Trollmarket tonight, she was at home, she was with her parents and –

– and a Changeling. "Every Changeling you've met so far has had personal incentive to keep you alive; that's not going to be universally true." Jim had drugged his own mother unconscious without qualm after sixteen years of knowing and adoring her. Not Enrique had only been with the Nuñezes for a few months. Overdosing was easy to do by accident. Changelings were supposed to guard their secrets with their life (or, preferably, their enemies' lives) and Claire had as good as promised she was going to expose him –

His phone, Toby needed his phone, where had he left his phone?

Had he gotten his phone out of his pocket when he stripped down to his boxers for bed? Once his fumbling fingers confirmed it wasn't on the dresser in easy reach, Toby untangled himself from his blanket and stumbled to his feet. He dug through the laundry hamper for his pants. Empty pocket, empty pocket, was this even the right pair? Empty pocket, bingo! Back pocket!

His finger was headed for the call button before he noticed what time it was. Claire should be asleep. Toby wanted to hear her voice, to reassure himself that she was okay, that nobody had stolen her phone to keep her from calling for help – okay, even he could recognize his imagination was probably getting the best of him now.

-R U OK?-

Maybe he should text the group chat instead? Even if the girls were asleep, Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were in the chat now and they would be awake. Talking to someone, even if they weren't Claire, might be able to break Toby's thoughts out of the downward spirals of worry. It could be hours before Claire woke up and saw the message and texted him back.

Should he call? It wouldn't wake her if her phone was off. Of course, getting no answer might just make him feel worse.

He was hungry.

Are you hungry or are you upset?

He turned on his TV and started a round of Go-Go Sushi. He had the app on his phone as well, but using the TV gave him a larger screen, and keeping his hands off his phone would keep Toby from blowing Claire's up with a thousand texts. The peppy music, cheery colours and low stakes of the game were comforting.

Toby's phone buzzed and he dropped the controller. A cartoon fish informed him he had lost. Toby didn't care. He sighed deeply with relief when he read Claire's reply.

-yeah, Y?-

… Okay, how was he supposed to answer that without sounding like he was freaking out over nothing? Or looking like some kind of idiot who hadn't had it sink in months ago that volunteering to fight trolls might be, you know, dangerous?

Before he could work out a response, Claire texted him again.

-Did NE sneak out and go 2 ur house?- -I'll kill that little monster if mom & dad find him gone!-

-not that!- Toby replied hastily, and then considered. -At least I don't think so?- -I had a nightmare where you got hurt and woke up worried.-

Yes, 'you got hurt' was a much better, less ominous thing to say than 'you vanished and I was pretty sure you died'.

His phone rang. He'd taken a picture of Claire, Mary and Darci at the lunch table when they started sitting with him and Jim, which he'd been using as a contact picture for all three of them since most of his photos of them were in Trollmarket. The version of that picture he'd cropped to focus on Claire now lit up his screen.

"Hey."

"I'm fine, Toby. I get why you needed to check. I get nightmares too."

"You do?" About Darci and Mary, he'd guess, since she had known them longer and had never contacted him in the middle of the night except for troll matters.

"Enrique," she said simply, and Toby felt horrible for not making the connection. "Not Enrique's a brat, but he's been good about letting me check on Enrique with that mirror trick Jim showed us. I mean, it doesn't help that much, because I feel like I should've, I don't know, done something when he was getting kidnapped, but at least I know he's okay while we look for a way to save him." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I figured it'd be easier for you to get back to sleep if I called you."

"Yeah. This … this really helps. I'm glad you're okay. I'll let you get back to sleep."

"See you at school."

Toby clicked the 'end call' button and picked up his game controller again.

Well. Now he knew Claire was still alive, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep anytime soon.

There were some ominous scratchy noises and quiet thumps behind him, and the sound of his window sliding up. He turned, raising the game controller as if to throw it, and was paralysed by the sight of a red-eyed figure climbing in.

"Toby!"

"Jim?!"

"Chompsky said you needed help." The gnome was on the Changeling's shoulder; Toby could see him now that Jim was in the light and his eyes weren't glowing anymore. "I thought you were under attack."

"… I had a nightmare." He should've gone ahead and texted the group chat if the whole team was going to find out anyway.

"Did you want something to eat?" Jim offered.

Toby shook his head. He almost, jokingly, asked for that tea Jim had been slipping to Dr L for years, before that thought yanked his earlier fears for Claire to the forefront of his mind, and suddenly he was shaking again and could only take shallow breaths.

Chompsky hopped off Jim's arm and scurried over to Toby, chattering in a tone that might be meant to be soothing, and patted Toby's foot.

"Okay, new plan," said Jim, wide-eyed. He turned blue and sprouted horns. He picked Toby up – Toby flinched a little, and Jim did too – and put Toby on his back, and then Jim carried Toby piggyback down the stairs and to Nana's room, where he set Toby on his feet and shifted back into human shape, still half-holding Toby up.

Jim knocked on the half-open door before he pushed it open all the way.

Three cats looked up from the bed and blinked lazily at the boys. The other two paused their tussle on the floor, but only long enough to check who was there. Nana's cats were almost as used to the Lakes as they were the Domzalskis.

Nana didn't sleep with her hearing aid in. Mr Meow-Meow PI always batted her face when her alarm clock rang, and she trusted the cat to do the same if the smoke detector went off. Jim guided Toby to the bed and nudged Nana's shoulder. Her snoring stopped. She groped around for her glasses – Jim moved them under her hand and retreated back to the doorway. Toby sagged.

"Toby-Pie?" Nana blinked at him and put her hearing aid in. "You've been crying."

Jim's shadow vanished from the doorway, either to cook something or go back home.

Toby climbed onto the bed, displacing the nearest cat. Special Agent Patches rumbled warningly at him, but made room, and didn't put her ears back or hiss. The last time Toby had done this, the old calico had been just a kitten. He wondered if she could remember.

"I had a bad dream," said Toby. "One of my friends – she got hurt. She disappeared, and I thought she was dead. And I talked to her, for real after I woke up, so I know she isn't really gone, but – but it could happen. Anytime. And – I'm scared."

"Oh, Toby." Nana hugged him as best she could, then pushed down the blanket – a challenge, with Toby lying on it – to free her arms and hug him better.

"She and Jim have been fighting. He … he's wrong, but he doesn't really get why she's upset. Like, he sort of gets it but not enough to realize he should apologize, just enough to think she'll understand if he explains better. And, I know it's not all Jim's fault, because he didn't want us to know in the first place and we're the ones who followed him, but I'm still mad at him. I still feel like, like he put us in danger."

Toby's voice hitched in something like a hiccup.

"And he's just, just so hard to be mad at because he – there's so much he's not telling us but it's obvious he's hurting too, and that he wasn't trying to hurt anyone else on purpose – like, not for the sake of hurting us, I mean, because some of the stuff was on purpose and he knew it'd hurt but he thought it was, like, the lesser of two evils ��� and all that makes me feel guilty for being mad at him but also madder for him making me feel guilty."

"Do you need to not see Jimmy for a while?" Nana offered. She looked puzzled as well as concerned. Toby probably hadn't made a lot of sense.

"I don't know what I need."

One of the cats, he didn't see which one, hopped onto his leg and started kneading. Nana rubbed his back. After a while, Toby dozed off.

Once she was sure he was settled, Nancy got up. The bedside table, where her phone was, was on the side of the bed Toby was now sleeping on, so she had to go around the bed to get to it.

+=+

Dr Tiffany Archenn had been one of Waltolomew Stricklander's earliest recruits for Changeling world domination independent of Gunmar – so early that he had still been going by 'Waltolomew' back then.

He had also been trying, since the early 1980s, to convince her to take a guidance counsellor job at his high school. He'd had far less luck persuading her on that score.

Her current therapy practice helped the Janus Order keep an eye on what sort of things humans wanted, for bribery, or worried over, for blackmail, and whether any of them had seen troll or goblin or Changeling activity that needed to be covered up, and to identify future parents suitable for hosting new Changelings. Transferring to the school would reduce her utility, and make her job and Walter's redundant.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe he wanted to transfer elsewhere but couldn't bear to leave his school without any Changeling influence. He'd been a teacher at one school or another since Arcadia Oaks was founded. Naturally he would hesitate to cut the Janus Order's ties to the school system, even if he wanted to do something different personally.

That wasn't why he was visiting her that night. He had come to propose an even more ludicrous plan. Interim Head of the Janus Order? Her?!

"Why would I want to paint a target on my back?"

"You've turned down promotions in the past. Otto will assume you were selected because you lack ambition, and therefore be more likely to try recruiting you than killing you, but more likely to ignore you than either."

Walter was clever. Unfortunately, this meant he sometimes overthought problems with simple solutions. "Have you considered bringing Otto with you?"

Otto would suspect a murder attempt, of course, but he might still go, out of curiosity about what Walter was up to and with intent of being the one to stab first.

"The project is sensitive. Including Otto would be unfeasible."

"And you can't just kill him, because?"

"I don't know what information he's arranged to have released in the event of his death or the means by which it would come out. A bomb with a dead man's switch is the most challenging to defuse."

"Bottle bombs are the most difficult to defuse," Tiffany corrected. Those depended on the explosive's internal chemical reaction rather than an external fuse, a reaction which began immediately during the bomb's construction, and the improvised nature of most bottle bombs meant the explosion was nearly impossible to time accurately in advance.

"My point is, Otto suspects me of involvement in Bular's death, and might have gathered enough circumstantial evidence to sway the rest of the Order."

"In fairness, the Trollhunter has never had much luck against Bular before. Them finally killing him does make one wonder if they had inside help." Walter gave her an unamused look. Tiffany kept her expression mildly interested, like she was encouraging a patient to air their worries.

"Therefore," Walter continued, "I need Otto distracted, not dead. If he does turn up dead in a way that can be connected to me, any speculation he's been sharing abruptly gains weight."

"Or a faithful Changeling became indignant at being accused of treason and killed the accuser." Changelings weren't the most even-tempered of … Actually, and bearing in mind that most of her basis of comparison was Gumm-Gumm behaviour, Changelings might be the most even-tempered of trolls. Said evenness came at the cost of repressed emotion, so it wasn't same as a healthy capacity to feel and release one's emotions in order to remain calm, but still. "You realize you're just giving him time to find or fabricate more evidence against you."

"As interim head, you would have the authority to order his execution, if you so chose."

Oooh, a chance to do your dirty work for you, how tempting. Execute him yourself, you lazy ass.

"You would put me in a position of authority over you?" she taunted, like they didn't both know she would shunt the responsibility back to him at the first opportunity. Tiffany liked being obscure and going unnoticed. She wasn't going to ruin that for herself by accepting a promotion.

"Who else could I trust to give it back?" said Walter, clearly thinking along the same lines.

Ah, so that was his true goal. He wanted her to recommend candidates, and implying she was his first choice would give her incentive to suggest ones good enough to take herself out of consideration.

"Bernie Sturges." Bernie was more on the side of science than anything else.

"Otto got to them first."

"Really. I always thought they were one of yours – wanting to keep the world as it is until they're done studying it."

"Dr Sturges is investigating Bular's cause of death."

"I see." Tiffany tapped her chin. "Then you will want to delay them, before they find anything that could be ... misconstrued, as proof of your involvement. Like a friendly-fire injury from when you tried to drive the Trollhunter away and they dodged, causing your knife to hit Bular instead."

"I wasn't there for that battle."

"Trolls are stone, scars last a long time. Did you and Bular never fight side by side?" She dropped this line of questioning. "Zelda Nomura."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Put her through a week of diplomacy where she can't pull her swords on everyone and she'll be blackmailing you to take your job back."

"Or the Order will descend into anarchy before my return."

Really, Tiffany just assumed Nomura was involved in whatever Walter was trying to hide about Bular's death. Everyone knew Nomura had once tried to infiltrate Trollmarket and steal the Amulet. She probably still had connections there. Maybe she had even found sympathizers.

(Not Changeling sympathizers; Tiffany couldn't stretch her imagination that far. But Gumm-Gumm sympathizers would still exist in troll communities, quietly, only eating humans in secret, willing to turn a blind eye to machinations leading to Gunmar's escape.)

"Gladys Groe."

"She and Otto despise one another."

"Exactly."

"And she's impulsive. I don't want to return and immediately have to start putting out fires."

"The new agent, the one who cooks." Everyone liked a good cook, so he'd probably survive, and he hadn't had much time to build a reputation on the surface, so he wouldn't be popular enough to usurp Walter or enough of a threat for Otto to attack. "If he won't give you your job back, you can give him detention for however long his human cover is still in high school."

"Absolutely not." Walter took out the fountain pen he used as a fidget tool. Tiffany had caught the flicker of red and gold in his eyes. "Otto would – Jim doesn't have the experience for anyone to respect his authority yet."

"Jennifer Smith, then." She practically ran Omni-Reach Travel already, so it wouldn't even be that much of stretch for her.

Walter's hands stilled and his expression softened as he considered. "Perhaps."

Tiffany's phone rang before she could think of any other recommendations. She checked it on reflex. A patient, probably having something of a crisis considering the time. She could leave it for her answering machine, but, 5:30 was late enough in the morning to justify the ringing phone waking her up and her being coherent about it.

"I should take this."

Walter nodded, still looking thoughtful. Tiffany put on a yawn as she answered, and watched Walter out of the corner of her eye to see how long it took him to yawn back.

"Hello?"

"Ah, good morning Dr Archenn. This is Nancy Domzalski. I was expecting your answering machine."

Walter yawned. He didn't open his mouth wider than a slit, but Tiffany saw his jaw move. Eleven seconds.

"I was just starting to wake up," she lied. "How can I help you?"

"I was hoping to reschedule my grandson's next appointment. Do you have any sooner times available?"

Dr Archenn reviewed her mental notes. Tobias Domzalski, age fifteen. No, wait, sixteen. Still fifteen? He turned sixteen soon if he hadn't already. Initially brought in for grief counselling, having lost his parents at a young age; continued to meet with her because Nancy didn't want to take him away from a therapist he had already built up trust and rapport with, in case he needed further help in the future; stress-related compulsive eating; family history of clinical depression; next appointment scheduled in three weeks.

"I'll have to look over my schedule and get back to you." She had it programmed into her phone and hadn't figured out how to check it without hanging up on a phone call. She had it physically written down as well, but that book was in her office.

"Of course," said Nancy. "I … I don't believe he's in immediate trouble, it doesn't have to be today … but I do think sooner would be best."

+=+

Previous Chapter (The school play happens)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (The kids try a new strategy for convincing Vendel their families are trustworthy)

Technically I don't think Tiffany should've been answering a call related to her practice while someone else was in the room, per the terms of patient confidentiality and all that, but Tiffany already discloses things about her patients to the Janus Order as she deems it necessary, so she's not all that concerned about the ethics of her behaviour here.

Nancy does not think Toby is delusional. She thinks he's frightened and stressed and hesitant to tell her why (all of which is true) and so is reaching out to someone she thinks will be able to help him.

I have decided that Nancy currently has at least five cats. There's the Siamese and Persian that Toby mentions in the show (upon AAARRRGGHH telling him he smells like cat, "My Nana has a Siamese," which might also be the cat we saw getting food levitated out of its bowl when Jim summoned the armour for the first time; later, watching Jim train, Toby gives AAARRRGGHH a paper bag with "dander from my Nana's Persian, and a couple of hairballs"), a calico, probably an orange tabby, and maybe a tuxedo cat – that's a particular form of black and white patches, both common and cute. Any cats of other description confirmed to be hers in the Tales of Arcadia franchise at a later time were simply not in the room during this chapter.

I want to keep Otto in the story but it's getting trickier to justify why Walter isn't trying to kill him off while he has the opportunity. Thoughts?

#Trollhunters #My Fanfiction #Becoming The Mask chapters #Tales of Arcadia #Monday is fanfic day! #Tobias Domzalski #dream sequence #Claire Nuñez #death and grief #cell phones #Gnome Chompsky #Changeling Jim #cats #Nana Nancy Domzalski #Walter Strickler #Changelings #Original Character

[penprp]

On P5/DCMK...

I saw a very interesting post earlier that compared P5 and Detective Conan/Magic Kaito, drawing parallels between Hakuba and Kasumi, and between Akechi and Shinichi. (Not reblogging because the OP does not need my word vomit clogging up their dash.) I’m going to have to say that honestly, I see it the other way around-- Akechi is Hakuba and Kasumi is Shinichi. I suspect the OP has seen a bit more of the Royal trailers than I have, of course… but I’m gonna do a bit of a deep dive into Hakuba and Shinichi’s character evolutions first, and then explain the way I see the correspondence. I know the OP was focusing almost totally on their relationships to Joker... but I’m going to nerd out a bit further.

Okay, so it all starts back in the late 80’s with the manga Magic Kaito. Aoyama’s first manga series, if you can believe that. Magic Kaito introduces us to Kuroba Kaito, teenage magician, prankster, and occasional pervert. (It was manga in ‘87, that was practically required.) He slapsticks his way through a school day, and then discovers that his father, long dead in an accident, was the legendary thief Kaitou Kid! But Kaitou Kid is holding a heist tonight! Kaito crashes, dressed in his dad’s old costume and learns that his father’s accident was actually murder, and swears to bring the culprits to justice. So right away, we’ve got the tone set-- a lot of slapstick and silly humor, with the occasional dramatic suckerpunch hitting when you don’t so much expect it.

That goes on for two volumes, with mostly silly stories about Kid escaping an army of robot surveillance cameras, Kid helping a little boy deal with bullies, Kid dealing with an honest-to-god witch who’s attempting to put him under her spell, Kaito and Aoko hunting ghosts that turn out to be a teacher trying to hide his research into hair growth formula… you get the idea. Then in 88, Kid went on hiatus, as Aoyama had moved onto his next manga, Yaiba!

Then we hit 1994. Yaiba has just ended, as has a short baseball-themed series called Yoban Saado, and so Aoyama comes back to Kid. His drawing style has evolved and so has his storytelling-- seven years of continuous work will do that to you. There’s still a lot of slapstick and silliness, but the drama has tightened up its act and is now setting snares for you instead of just punching you and running off laughing. It’s in this period of time that we meet Hakuba Saguru.

I should pause at this moment to say that Aoyama Gosho has some of the strongest special interests I have ever seen in a mangaka. The man loves Sherlock Holmes, Arsene Lupin, stage magic, and baseball, not necessarily in that order. He also loves working in a semi-unified world. Yaiba ended with a character announcing that “Kuroba and Nakamori,” IE, Kaito and his best friend Aoko, were finally going out. The new volume has a chapter in which Kid goes up against Yaiba in one of the most ridiculously slapstick things the series has done at this point. Remember this for later.

So into this mess comes Hakuba Saguru, transfer student. Hakuba’s role, as suits the slightly more focused and dramatic tone of the series in this volume, is to be an antagonist slightly more competent than Nakamori. His initals make him a reference to Herlock Sholmes, but as he’s half-British, reading his name in the Western fashion does evoke Sherlock Holmes. Really, at this point, Saguru is not narratively one particular reference as he is The Detective-As-Antagonist. He’s handsome, smug, confident, charming, brilliant, and basically a rival to Kaito in every arena, from school to romance to their nightly activities. His very first appearance has him ignoring the trick that the rest of the police fall for, forcing Kid to step up his game. Not long after that, he actually manages to realize that Kuroba Kaito is Kaitou Kid, and comes up with a clever plan to prove it. Unfortunately, he’s still in the Magic Kaito manga, and thus is thwarted by a witch riding in on her broom. (It makes sense in context.)

It’s towards the end of this volume that Kid learns of the gem Pandora, the reason his father was murdered, and vows to find the gem himself and destroy it. At this point, Kid switches from stealing various interesting baubles to targeting gems and only gems.

… And cue Detective Conan, which has been running for, as of this writing, twenty-five years. (Dear God.) This introduces us to Kudou Shinichi, detective and Sherlock Holmes otaku extraordinaire. One of the first things we learn about Shinichi is that he is incredibly privileged. (He’s also a huge dork, but I digress.) He’s handsome. He’s rich. His parents love him, but they’re out of the country, leaving him to live on his own with a ridiculous degree of freedom. He has cases to stimulate him. He’s a brilliant detective whom the police and media adore. The kids at school love him, though none can really be considered his friends except Mouri Ran, his best friend. Shinichi’s biggest problem in life is that Ran has a nasty habit of cracking concrete with her fists when he says something insensitive. Later flashbacks and retcons tell us that Shinichi, while he can be hugely thoughtless, is nevertheless instantly ready to throw all of that power and privilege behind protecting the weak and the innocent. He’s just… better with victims and witnesses than he is with normal social interaction.

Contrast this with Hakuba, who while, yes, he’s rich and charming and his father has enormous social and political pull as the Superintendent of the police... he’s still half-white. And thus will always be, on some level, an outsider. Neither manga does a lot with this, but it is still there.

Then he witnesses a drug deal, gets shrunk into an elementary-schooler, and it all goes down the tubes. Shinichi starts off as being very much like Hakuba-- or rather, Hakuba was a sort of proto-Shinichi. But Shinichi has twenty-five years of appearances and is the protagonist, so he gets the kind of character development Hakuba could only dream of. Shinichi loses almost everything and has to build it anew, without the privilege he had to begin with. In the process, he grows and changes, becoming more thoughtful and more appreciative, with less smugness and ego.

Into this world, Gosho decides to do one of his usual things, and drop Kaitou Kid in for a story. Holmes vs. Lupin, it’ll be fun, right? The fans ate it up, and so Kid became a regular guest star. After that, when doing Sunset Mansion, a story loosely based on Young Kindaichi’s “House of Wax” story, which involves a detective gathering, Hakuba Saguru was a natural choice. And here we come to one of Hakuba’s issues as a character.

It’s now the year 2000. Detective Conan, always more serious in tone than Magic Kaito, given the rampant murders, has progressed in the past six years. The art is better, the storytelling is more dramatic… And Hakuba’s previous narrative slot has been filled by Shinichi. What does Gosho do with him? I think a lot of the characterization that follows was Gosho trying to get a handle on who Hakuba IS, in a world where all the characters he played off of have changed so dramatically. In Sunset Mansion, he acts more like James Bond than either Herlock Sholmes or Sherlock Holmes. He’s handsome, charming, and dangerous, and while he’s not convinced of Kid’s essential benevolence, he is adamant that Kid is no killer.

Fast-forward to 2006. Hakuba shows up again for the Tantei Koshien, a detective competition that seems designed to play up the differences between Hakuba and Hattori Heiji, Conan’s best friend and fellow detective. This is quite possibly the most characterization Hakuba gets, and he’s… not shown in a great light. He’s scornful of Heiji’s impulsive nature and rash action, and lets his focus on thefts and frauds mislead him into identifying the wrong culprit. He takes his correction rather graciously, but hasn’t appeared in Detective Conan since.

And now it’s 2007. Kid is rabidly popular, enough that Gosho puts out another volume’s worth of Kaitou Kid chapters. Now that we’re back behind Kaito’s eyes, we see a combination of the goofy prankster in the earliest chapters and the smooth gentleman thief we’ve come to know in Conan’s tales. These stories are more tightly plotted, with more danger and escapes, the magic tricks used to set up a central “howdunit” for the chapter, and there’s a bit more character development. Kid also evinces more detective skills, as there’s often a mystery for him to get to the bottom of, as well as his own tricks for others to decipher. Hakuba makes a guest appearance, calling Kaito to give him information when he’s going head to head with another kaitou over a rare gem, and then shows up when Kid is threatened by a murderous thief named Nightmare. At the end of this case, he agrees with Kid in deliberately hiding the truth of Nightmare’s identity, as the man is dead and the truth would only hurt his family now.

Hakuba is still charming, flirty, and confident, and to be honest, still kind of smug. But now he’s being shown as someone capable of empathy, not a detective concerned only with the law, or even the truth. He’s come to understand that justice requires mercy. But we don’t get to see any of this happen, and he’s still only in a few pages in two stories out of five.

Hakuba and Shinichi both have complicated relationships with Kid that can’t be boiled down to “rival” and “enemy” quite so easily. The biggest difference, in my opinion, is that Hakuba is chasing Kid to catch and stop him, while Shinichi really sees Kid heists as a chance to match wits with an intellectual equal. Hakuba is concerned with Kid’s breaking the law, while  Shinichi seems to consider that mostly a non-issue, being focused more on beating Kid as almost a matter of pride. He’ll give it back and nobody died, no big deal. … That said, Hakuba’s characterization in spinoffs such as the Magic Kaito specials is leaning a bit more towards actual rivalry, but that’s because in that continuity, he has bigger spiders to fry.

So why did I go into all that? We don’t know much about Kasumi, but we know a lot about Akechi, so I’m going to start with him. Visually, he resembles Hakuba much more than Shinichi, with the perfectly pressed appearance, light hair, and visually adult fashion choices. He’s a media darling, and is incredibly charming. Beyond that, in all his interactions with the Phantom Thieves before his reveal, he is apart from them, even when assisting them. His outfit is brilliant white and gold, rather than the blacks and reds of most of the team. He even tells them that while he will help them clear their name of murder, they have to stop thieving. This is all very Hakuba. Of course, it’s all a mask, but even so… he wants to stop the Phantom Thieves. He’s tied into the forces of law and order, both in his mask persona and as Yaldabaoth’s pawn. (Law and Order being two different forces here… although maybe not so different as they seem.) He’s strongly drawn to Joker and winds up helping him, despite what his position and duties would suggest.

Kasumi is… well, we don’t really know. Visually, however, as a thief, she strongly resembles Joker. We’ve seen that she seems to act as a Phantom Thief, even if she’s quoted as saying that she doesn’t believe in their justice. (“Thieves are boring,” Conan scoffs, right before meeting a nutter in a white top hat.) A lot of her visual shots are set up to suggest a strong parallel between her and Joker, and there’s a possibility of her being yet another Wild Card. Kaito and Shinichi are canonically said to resemble each other strongly, and while this is probably partially Gosho making fun of the fact that all his hot teenage boys look alike… he’s said there is a deeper reason for it.

This is all speculation, of course. We won’t really know until the game comes out. (Can we get a Switch port Atlus? Please?)

[shazzeaslightnovels]

Reading Log - February 2019

Mostly Saekano with some first volumes thrown in. As per usual, there will be no spoilers, unless tagged otherwise.

Saenai Heroine no Sodatekata 4 by Fumiaki Maruto:

With this volume Blessing Software is now complete! But before I talk about our new member, I want to say that my favorite thing about this volume was seeing just how close Katou has become with Eriri and Utaha, especially the former. I have mixed feelings on Michiru: on the one hand, purple colour theme + short hair + can’t-read-the-room + genki gal = moe; on the other hand, I would hate her if I met her in real life. She constantly invades Tomoya’s personal space, belittles his hobbies and dreams and is way too disrespectful to the person who is giving her a place to sleep while she fights with her dad. I think she’s an enjoyable and interesting character but an awful person.  I really disliked how the anime handled her first episode. The constant shots of her boobs and ass made me so uncomfortable, especially seeing how that kind of outfit is actually pretty typical hot weather wear in Australia. It became a bit better in the following episodes but I still despise it. Overall, I’d still call the anime adaptation a good one, though. It succeeded in making Katou feel more like a boring heroine than the novel and manga did and I still love the café scene in episode 2. I won’t be covering the second season in this section anymore because AnimeLab doesn’t have access to it and I mostly only watch things using AnimeLab these days. In any case, I’m interested to see where the story goes from here.

Kumo desu ga, Nani ka? 1 by Okina Baba:

Well, this book was certainly a struggle to read. Most of the book is written in a stream-of-conscious writing style, meaning that 90% of the volume is purely narration. It’s a hard style for me, both to write and read but I think it works well here due to the protagonist’s personality being incredibly fun. But my attention did wander quite a bit while I was reading and I struggled with deciphering the skill names in Japanese. I also found the S chapters that occur after every few main chapters to be unnecessary. One of the things that can really kill my enjoyment of a story is knowing something before the protagonist does. I like to experience the story and world along with the protagonist and it’s frustrating when something important is revealed to the reader long before it’s revealed to the protagonist. This is not the most irritating example of it but I think the manga was right in skipping these chapters. It keeps you in suspense for longer. While I certainly enjoyed this volume I may continue the story through the manga instead of the light novel. The visuals in the manga are hilarious and really added to my enjoyment of the series and I don’t think I’m interested enough in the story to be annoyed with the slow pace of the manga.

This series is currently being released in English by Yen-Press as So I’m a Spider, So What? so pick it up if the series interests you.

Saenai Heroine no Sodatekata 5 by Fumiaki Maruto:

Definitely my favorite volume so far. It was incredibly interesting to the point where I stayed up late just to finish it. It also included a lot of my favorite elements of the Koisuru Metronome spin-off: a conflict the centred on writing issues, information on how to improve writing and Utaha being really interesting and complex. All that was missing was Mayu. In any case, I think what I want this series to do is to challenge it’s own genre and tropes. It’s a great romcom but it’s not much more than that yet.

Bishoujo Sakka to Mezasu Million Selleraaaaaaaa!! 1 by Takeru Kusakabe:

Honestly, I’m not 100% sure why I bought this book. I think I was looking for something easy to read at the time and this ranked in KonoRano 2018. Anyhow, this is written by the author of Noucome, which I remember as a series with an alright premise that got old fast but had good girls. Million Seller isn’t much different. The protagonist is a guy who becomes an editor and wants to be able to be put in charge of a series that can sell a million copies but gets put in charge of light novel series, which don’t sell as much. So he gets put in charge of two ladies, one who’s a high school student and another who’s an office lady. And it’s… fine. The characters are likeable and I was impressed that the author made the characters distinct enough that if you were to pick out a random page from the volume, you’d be able to tell who was talking to who by looking at how they speak. The thing is, the series doesn’t stand out. If want a romcom with a harem, there are better ones and it’s really not that informative on the light novel industry. There are some funny interactions but I’d only recommend it if you really liked Noucome’s sense of humour or are looking for some easy light novels to read to improve your Japanese. I won’t be reading the second volume.

Saenai Heroine no Sodatekata 6 by Fumiaki Maruto:

This was a really satisfying volume in terms of what it did for the plot and Eriri’s character. And, like vol. 5, every time I finished a chapter, I wanted to hurry on to the next. Iori continues to be a delight and Izumi has really grown on me. I’m excited to see what these characters do next.

Saenai Heroine no Sodatekata F.D. by Fumiaki Maruto:

Going into this, I knew that it wouldn’t have much to do with the main story but I ended up wishing that it had even less to do with the main story. All it is is a bunch of short stories taking place in between chapters of the main light novel that were previously published in magazine + an interview with Maruto and Misaki (the illustrator for the series) that is really hard to read on an iPad. I thought it would be a bunch of non-canon icharabu scenes between Tomoya and the heroines but there wasn’t much of that at all. Furthermore, Sayuri, who appears on the cover, doesn’t actually appear in the volume and I get the feeling that she’s only on there because Misaki created an amazing character design that wasn’t able to get shown off in vol. 6. Interestingly, some of these stories appear in other versions of the story; I recognized some of them because similar scenes appeared in the anime and Koisuru Metronome. I think I might have enjoyed it more if I had read it while I was reading the main volumes but I really don’t think it’s worth buying unless you’re a diehard fan of the series and want to know everything about the characters. This volume did make it clear how much Maruto has grown as a writer though; the first few stories were written the earliest and felt really jarring to read and definitely felt more like the type of writing that would be used in a galge but the later stories were much better.

Baccano! The Rolling Bootlegs by Ryohgo Narita

Note: I read this in English a few years ago and loved it and the anime was one of the first that I saw and I loved that so reading this volume in Japanese has been something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.

As much as I enjoy the Baccano! series, this volume has never been one of my favourites. Even in the anime, I tended to zone out during these parts. But I did enjoy it more this time around. Narita really knows how to set the scene and make you really absorbed into it. The thing that surprised me the most about rereading this was Ennis. I remember that I used to find her really boring but I LOVED her here. She’s a genuinely interesting character and her scenes with Miria and Isaac were my favorite part of the volume and I loved the scenes that were narrated by her. My favorite thing about Baccano has always been the lack of a true protagonist and that’s certainly true here. Firo’s probably the closest to it in this volume but you could definitely argue that the protagonist is Maiza and Isaac and Miria have always been so iconic that they’ve always felt like the protagonists to me. That being said, I found the scenes revolving around the Gandor siblings and Dallas to be really boring and I can see why someone might not enjoy a series that has this many characters to follow. I’m looking forward to reading the 1931 arc, in any case.

This series is currently being published by Yen-Press as Baccano! so pick it up if the series interests you.

Saenai Heroine no Sodatekata 7 by Fumiaki Maruto

Well, this was certainly an emotional volume. It starts off seeming like it’s going to be pretty cute valentines day volume but it becomes an emotionally taxing one by the end. But I didn’t mind it too much. The drama elements worked for me and I was so shocked by the first epilogue that I thought my eyes would pop out of my head! Indeed, like the previous volumes, I set off to read one chapter and was half-way done with the volume before I knew it! One thing that Maruto does really well in this series is balancing the heroines. I still think that end girl could be either Katou or Eriri at this point and, if not for Koisuru Metronome’s existence, I would say that Utaha still has a chance too. And part of me is still holding out for a surprise yuri ending with Eriri and Katou. Their relationship is so well written that I can’t help but wonder whether Maruto just really wants to write a yuri novel but hasn’t for whatever reason. This volume marks the end of the manga adaptation (though it looks like they also adapted the GS side novels so I’ll probably talk about that at some point) and it was a good manga adaptation. I think the adaptations of the first 4 volumes were not great but 5-7 have been adapted really well so I’d recommend it.

Saenai Heroine no Sodatekata Girls Side by Fumiaki Maruto

The volume is split into two parts. The first part focuses on how Utaha and Eriri first met and it’s an amusing side story and definitely worth the read if you’re a fan of those two. The second scenario’s premise is more spoilery as it focuses on events that the reader heard about but didn’t see in vol. 7. While this volume isn’t required reading to understand the main plot, I still thought it was worth reading and would recommend it to most Saekano fans, especially those who like Utaha and Eriri. As for the manga, it only adapts this volume and it’s a 1:1 adaptation so no complaints from me.

Assassins Pride 1 by Kei Amagi

If I were to describe this volume in one word it would be ‘weird’. It has weird pacing in that most of the chapters could have been made into their own volume though I suspect that the reason for the fast pace is because the writer wanted to grab the readers’ attentions straight away. It has a weird protagonist because I can’t read him at all. I can never tell when he’s acting and when he’s being genuine. Finally, the future volumes look weird. From this volume and the covers of future volumes I assumed that this series would have a central OTP with possibly a slight harem element but the colour illustrations for the future volumes make it seem like it’s going to become an ecchi lolicon harem series so I don’t know what to think so I’m approaching this series with cautions and won’t be buying volume 2 until the anime comes out so that I can find out whether this series will go in that direction or not. As for the volume itself. It was fairly interesting and held my attention when I was reading but I would have preferred a slower pace. That said, I enjoyed the manga a lot. The illustrations in it are really something and the pacing is much better so even if I don’t end up continuing the light novel, I’ll likely be reading the manga anyway.

#Saekano #Kumo desu ga nani ka #So I'm a spider so what #Bishoujo Sakka to Mezasu Million Selleraaaaaaaa #Baccano #Assassins Pride #Light Novels #Reviews #Reading log #Kei Amagi #Fujimi Fantasia Bunko #Fumiaki Maruto #Ryohgo Narita #Dengeki Bunko #Takeru Kusakabe #Kadokawa Sneaker Bunko #Okina Baba #Kadokawa Books

[tolwo]

Tag Game 💛 ✨

Rules: Answer 20 questions then tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better

I was tagged by @mrahc (thank u!)

Nickname: Alex

Zodiac sign: taurus (a typical one at that, and one day away from being a gemini Thank God I’m not though)

Height: 5′8″ (173cm)

Time: 2:00 am

Favorite artist: Longstanding? probably Passion Pit or Matt and Kim ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Song stuck in my head: Kaval Sviri 

Last movie i saw: Solo: A Star Wars story

Last thing I googled: Pinocchio nose amazon prime images

Other blogs: yell heah. like 15 aesthetic blogs an art one and one vent one

Do I get asks: yeah but i remember the first time i got an anon ask I was Terrified and 15

Why did I choose my username: I wanted to simplify

Following: 1,646

Average amount of 💤: 7 hours when I’m actually taking care of myself

Lucky numbers: 2 and 4

What am I wearing: knee high socks with cartoonish lightning streaks up the side and cotton biking shorts with a muscle tee. I typically have the foresight to wear my workout clothes to bed so im more likely to actually go and do it the next day

Dream job: travel influencer or freelancing photographer/graphic designer (still able to travel when and wherever)

Dream trip: an extensive exploration of the Balkans or to at least visit Serbia and Macedonia and remember doing so. OR get to photograph the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia

Favorite food: sheep’s feta and ajvar. together

Play an instrument: the recorder? I guess the kaval? that was the earliest instrument my dad taught me any songs on. Wanna play them sweet sweet ivories though

Hair color: brown

Eye color: brown

Most iconic song: HHhm. Would have to be I Luv the Valley OH! by Xiu Xiu, but just the cover by Shearwater, the original is way too angsty most of the time

Languages you speak: English. I understand some Spanish now? Also I’m “Learning” Serbian so eventually I’ll speak it.

Random fact: I’m A 🐝 (my second favorite animal). My initials are AB and my blood type is also AB+

Describe yourself in an aesthetic: Rn’s mood? lying facedown in a lounge chair in a highway ditch half-clothed at sunset

I’m tagging @horrifyingdelicious @artistic-resonance @helpls @burnt-toasty @evagoblin @whipapp @possumschool​ @yeahsuresir @thebeginningofneverending​  @eternallyconfusedforever​ @wizardgfs @badgercucumber @yellew @constipatedconstance @themorrigain @fistingmyself @cetaceas @crypt-kid​ @goldtigrs​ @jaws-to-face​

#Thank you Marie #!!! #I'm sorry that I always do these like a week later! #but they're so fun #no one's obligated to do it but i would love to see anyone's answers #even if I didn't tag you just tag me! #tagged #questions #music

[laidbackmarco]

Trinkets of a Different Time

As a kid I remember rifling through my dad’s nightstand to find small pocket knives, trinkets, and various other personal articles. As a romantic and philosopher I believe the inanimate objects we interact with everyday tell us a lot about ourselves, and have deep vast stories hidden with them. One could argue that they are as much a part of this living breathing universe as we are. The imagination of a child allowed me to daydream of a life lived before I came into the world.

  How much do I know of being a minority in the 60s, 70s, 80s? What Tacoma was like, the stories of Kansas and Virginia which always seem to not be long enough for me to know anything. Or on my mom’s end how could I know what it was like to lose my father at an early age. To grow up in a third world country miles away over the pacific ocean. I hear short snippets of each of their lives through oral stories passed down from one generation to the next. But it’s often strange to think about how little we know about the people who raised us, and often weirder thinking that they have as little of an idea of what they are doing as you do.

Strangers With The Same DNA

My mom being a party animal, my dad being some sort of geek. . . If I met them on the street would I recognize them? What I would give to be Marty McFly and meet and observe my parents in their youth. My knowledge is so limited I have troubling remember what happens in a day if I don’t journal. The images I have of my parents are constructs in my mind that change and shift with every passing moment. Remember the image you held of your dad when you were five, its probably the way my elementary school students think of me now as a 23 year old adult. Up till seven I thought my dad was some sort of flawless super hero. Of course that image has since changed, but as I grow into adulthood and discover how hard it really is, I can once again say that I am amazed by the things my dad has accomplished on his time on this earth. The flaws my dad has only make him more relatable, and overcoming some of them is a testament to how much he cares.

Parents lie to their kids all the time, I think my parents lied about their past as much as they tell the truth. Of course they could be lying on accident due to the lackluster perception of self present all humans. (including me the author)

Most of my parents lives I was not a part of . . .the time I spent with them is less than half of their lives. I know mostly nothing about the people that live under my roof with me and have guided me through the world that they too had to figure out and find meaning in.

The Same Name

Maurice Vincent Harris

My dad and I share practically the same name, but I have never once called him Marc or Maurice, to do so would just feel wrong. Even calling him dad for the sake of my “audience”(thanks for reading really. . .and most of you are English speakers I’m assuming?) feels so unsettling. Because to me he has always been Tatay. Hearing that word in my head makes years of memories fly through my mind. Recently he’s picked up the name Beefo, a name my little sister has knighted him with. During my time in high school my friends had come up with a name for my Tatay that is the most fon for me to use Black Mario.

Black Mario felt just as right as Tatay and is less intimate so for the sake of this chapter let’s call him Black Mario.

Things Only I Know

What can I tell you about my dad that no one else knows? He’s afraid of dying just like everyone else, he hates his job although he appreciates all that it’s provided for us, his favorite cigarettes are menthol lights, he worries all the time about all his kids. Karina, Cristina, me. . . But he worries about Karina the most. . . Because they are scarily alike. He is very old fashion and rarely cooks, cleans, or does the laundry, but he does like to do yardwork and keep all the vehicles in working order. Some of his bad habits are gambling, smoking, and road rage. It’s hard to sleep around him because he snores very loudly, and once he’s out it’s hard to get him back up(yay for sneaking in xbox time). He’s not afraid to express what he feels at restaurants, but for some reason can’t get in touch with his sensitive side. He misses the days when I was little. His mind is always on the future, but is sometimes impulsive. He doesn’t sleep much, but he can sleep for a while when he finally retires to the bed. He’s not as fast up and down the stairs as he used to be even just ten years ago when the regular pace of the slight jog going up the stairs has turned into a labored and offset slower paced climb up them. He expresses his emotions in weird ways like some sort of anime tsundere.

That’s my image of him now, but I know with all things this wasn’t how he always was.

I remember growing up I used to tell people I was black and they wouldn’t believe me until they saw my father. Trying to describe my father to someone who had never seen him went as follows. Well he’s a tall black guy with a mustache, who always wears a hat, and blue Boeing coveralls. He is a plumber/maintenance worker. A description closely matched by one of the world’s most famous Italian plumbers in the world. Mario. . .

Slice of Life

Although Black Mario is my father, the knowledge I have on this specimen is, only a slice of his life. Most of his existence remains shrouded in mystery.(If I ever have kids they can literally search through my teens and twenties, and even further back if I get around to scanning and uploading our photo collection) They need to hurry up with that assassins creed machine Animus please. I know his birthdate by heart thanks to all those damn how old are you things on the internet for mature games not porn I swear. I always put in my dad’s date of birth for some reason so my Xbox live account says I’m in my sixties. I always think about Alan Watt’s description about how we describe a beginning, did my father’s life start when he was born, when he was conceived, or when he was an evil gleam in his father’s eyes?

Baby Boomer

Black Mario is a baby boomer born on December 31st 1954, being part of a military family he was born on the other side of the country in Virginia. Dave and Patricia Harris. Like many, my grandfather had served in Second World War another young man thrown into a battle that shed much blood, but also brought the world together. When the war was over he was in his late teens and met a young girl from the Philippines who returned with him to the states. In the Philippines due to the lack of documentation it was possible for my grandma, who was actually 14, to lie about her age. Perhaps America was the land of opportunity  and a chance for her to seek adventure out of her small province. Due to the different cultural values of both the time and the region, it wasn’t strange for people to be settling down and having families at a young age. I mean the concept of “adulthood” is a construct created by culture. Using an arbitrary number such as one’s age to determine responsibility is pretentious, preposterous, and absurd. There was a time when people settled down much younger in life due to the short life expectancy. In other cultures the marriage ages vary to some degree as well, and for all you Christians out there, Mary was like fourteen so . . . Yeah.

Two teenagers went about raising a family . .  What could possibly go wrong?

My Grandpa was a short tempered, sharp tonged, sometimes violent man. . . God. . . He’s starting to sound like the stereo typical African American T.V. Dad. Although I imagine being in the military during war time will change you, being African American his role was limited to a cook. He was damn good at his job too often getting requests from generals and officers to have him be the one to prepare their meals. I can’t really speak much about Grandpa Dave as I know almost nothing about him.

Mark In The Middle

My dad is a younger middle child of a large family. . . 12 kids I believe, Lola tells stories of never ending cooking, cleaning, and laundry. . . My worst nightmare. . . Laundry. The values at the time consisted of a breadwinner and the stay at home mom. With limited education and the high cost of daycare what choice was there for Lola. Did she have any bigger dreams than that? For someone like me with delusions of grandeur I often forget that some people’s dreams is to provide and care for a family.

  My dad’s journey began in Virginia, where there are a lot of other Harris family groups, but I have never been to the big Harris Family reunion so they might as well be aliens with similar D.N.A. My dad himself doesn’t seem to remember much about Virginia as the earliest stories he had was the drive to Kansas itself. With no freeways, it must have been a traumatizingly long journey for a kid to remember it. When I was a kid when I thought of Kansas I thought of the Wizard of Oz and little house on the Prairie. But included in my dad’s memories are a packed station wagon full of stuff and kids. The American Road trip has some what of romanticized image.  With no smartphones the entertainment you had was the people with you and watching the world fly by you.

Kids tend to complain when enduring such things as their perspective on time is much different from a fully grown adult, since time is a relative function 1 year to a five year old is 8 times longer than it is for a forty year old. They would have complained but I imagine grandpa would probably say this when he was at the end of his nerves. “Stop complaining before I give you something to complain about”

The thought of a Parent striking a child is something that I’ve been protected and shielded from for the most part. Sometimes black Mario would spank us or give us a light tap on the head.  . . But never beat or strike us with full force. . . Apparently his dad would “beat the shit of of him” and his siblings sometimes. . .I don’t know if this extended to my grandma as well. The terrifying thought and reality of a child being abused in any way isn’t something we like to keep in our minds, but it happens  I can only wonder what kind of feelings Black Mario must be harboring about that, he never talks about anything, so that’s not how he expressed it. Perhaps in some journals in the garage somewhere I can find an answer. (Although I’m one of the people that thinks kids are too soft now a days, I mean I got spanked and I turned out somewhat fine. . . Right?)

I doubt that Black Mario has many memories before he was ten, because I’m a third of his age and I have barely anything up there, but from what I can gather about Kansas is that its flat, cold in the winter, hot in the summer, and there are tornadoes. Being stuck in the basement of a house sounds like as much fun as a being millennial in a power outage without cell service.

The Place Where I’m From

When Black Mario was in the third or fourth grade he moved to the City at the Center of my heart. The 253, T-Town, the city with the famous aroma. . . The city of Tacoma. And his family lived in the one place they could afford a home, Hilltop. Which if you’re not a local has a bad rep with being a not so good area to be in, Tacompton. Although neighborhoods were not segregated by color in essence with the way housing prices were in certain areas they might as well have been. Speaking of Black Mario experiencing racism in his youth. It’s not a matter if he did, the question is how much and when he met these challenges and from whom. Being a mixed raced Filipino sometimes it’s hard to fit in with either group and you end up in this limbo between races. Thankfully being in the pacific northwest the harsh treatment was padded to a certain extent, but not eliminated.

  I find it extremely odd that events I’ve read about in history books like the moon landing, JFK, Nixon, and all the fantastic things that were happening with the red scare and the cold war were experienced by the teenage version of Back Mario. I ought to pester him and ask him about that one day over a beer. .  . Or a joint I mean I’m in Washington let me pick my poison XD. I get these stories but, there are certain things that don’t come to the surface when hearing these stories. It’s so hard to interpret another’s worldview and the personal experiences they have that shape the way they see things. What kind of ten year old was he? A shy quiet one, or the ever rambunctious loud type. Being the younger of the boys of his family, I can speculate that he was given a lot of hand me downs, having the nickname buck(for bucktoothed) probably means he was the one getting teased by his older siblings. Being that my dad is like me and has trouble communicating and keeping friends he and my uncle Cisco or Coach were probably really close.

  One thing I know about my dad from his stories is that he is a hustla. He used to shine shoes or sell things to the businessmen of Tacoma downtown, he had a paper route, and he worked in the school cafeteria. Which has a number of benefits, extra food, free lunch, and cash. But it was probably hard for him to make friends if he was working while most kids bond over things like meals. He went to Jason Lee middle school where he played in the drum line and was a bench warmer in sports. To be honest being a black kid  in America you’re expected to come out of the womb dribbling a basketball, but luckily for black Mario he enjoyed basketball, but where he actually played the sport I have no Idea.

East Side

Sometime during the teenage years the family moved from hilltop to the East side of Tacoma. The house they lived in was very small for the amount of people that were housed there, but you have to make do with what you have.

This house is very close to the original home in east Tacoma, shown here is my uncles place

When Black Mario hit high school age he went to Stadium High school where he once again played the drums and remained on that shiny bench keeping them nice and warm for the starters. Black Mario didn’t actually graduate from stadium, although he did get his GED. During this time I have stories of him getting caught underage drinking with his stadium friends in northeast Tacoma, when apprehended by the police, he was met with the terrible consequence of pouring the beer out “I had to pour out a whole 30 rack once it was the saddest thing as the cop made us pour them out one at a time”.

When he joined the Military in 1972 as a young Kid. Often hearing his disdain of the government it’s really surprising that he would ever join the military, but I guess you can’t argue with a job with decent wages that provides meals and housing for its soldiers. Not to mention that being in the military teaches values such as work ethic, the importance of time, and some other valuable skills. Other than the whole training you to kill other human beings thing, it’s a pretty good deal. With the military he was able to go to Germany and Korea. Those memories unforgettable as he still talks about the days abroad.

My favorite story is after a night of drinking his best friend Rodney began to put his uniform on.

Black Mario: Nigga why you putting your uniform on Rodney: They serve midnight chow and you gotta be in this here uniform to get some chow. Black Mario: Hey wait for me I’ll put my uniform on too.

While he was in the military Black Mario did some real evaluating and thinking. He calculated the amount of money he got paid per hour to be a solider and compared it to what they were making at Boeing. In 1977 he was honorably discharged from the military achieving the rank of Sergeant. His stint with the military gave him priority for getting a job at Boeing. The company he’s still working for into his sixties. Unfortunately his first relationship didn’t last as long as his job, and neither did his second, but he did have kids and I got extended family members out of the relationship.(well more like they got me because I was to come later) What is a mystery to me is what he was like through the 70s and 80s.

The Big Mystery is What was he like?

His vocabulary and humor makes me feel like he experimented with drugs, I mean that 70s show and Cheech and Chong are funny for most people, but the green guys n gals find it more funny. He and his friend Bobby used to Deejay, but what kind of records did he spin house, hip hop, disco, techno? We get snippets of the music he liked, Funk, Disco, Old school Rap, disco. Did he like dancing and stuff going to the discos?

Having owned a Harley, a Firebird, and some other cars like an RX7, he must have enjoyed motorsports as much as I did.

I think he was a geek, because I remember he had a NES, a Nintendo entertainment system, and so many nerdy toys from the late 80s that he has to be a nerd. Not to mention he beat the Mario Arcade Game, he knew the Pacman Pattern at one point, and he is insanely good at Bullet Hell games. I felt like he went to the bar and played the arcade games and pool, more than socializing or drinking. His memorabilia includes Transformers, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, so like me he was a grown man who watched cartoons did he read comic books as well?

Family Guy

My dad has fond memories involving my three cousins Ja’nielle, Jarod, and Jon Jon, where he was that cool, weird uncle who lived next door. There was probably a part of him that longed for that family life after his relationships didn’t work out as he had hoped.

Life changed for Black Mario when he went to either a party or a bar one night, he would encounter the most dangerous thing known to man. . . A pretty Woman.

If anyone wants to learn about where I come from this is an article that's about a millenial kid thinking about his boomer dad #babyboomer #millenial #family #kids #dad #father #black #mario #autobiography #tacoma Trinkets of a Different Time As a kid I remember rifling through my dad's nightstand to find small pocket knives, trinkets, and various other personal articles.

#Autobiography #black #black mario #blue collar #contemplation #dad #dream #dreaming #existential #existentialism #expression #family #family guy #geek #history #journal #kid #kids #mario #mom #personal #son #tacoma #wondering #writing

[awakenedsadisticghosts]

Katie

(warning: This is vile and disgusting! You have been warned!)

Tags: Necrophilia, blood, murder, sex, serial killer, dismemberment

Words: 1.9k

Let’s do some reminiscing shall we...to my very first kill, my very first special friend Katie. I always remember being different than everyone else growing up. I didn’t “feel” like the other kids did so I cannot tell you what happiness feels like, or what sadness felt like. I just always remember the world being a bit melancholy. I saw the world in shades of grey when everyone else saw the world in super bright colors.

Often retreated into my own little world that was dark and bleak, free of emotion and feelings. It was a cold place. I often heard voices speak to me and at times yell at me even in my earliest recollections. They would wake me up from sleeping and jolt me in the middle of a test in school. I have always heard the voices and when I turned 14 then came that sound. It was like a high speed train traveling on the tracks; a deep hum that reverberated in my brain and would never go away. 

I still hear it now.

That sound over the years got louder and the voices got louder and as I struggled through school I was always getting in trouble. I was fascinated by girls and the voices told me horrible things about them and what I should do to them. When I was 15 I got in trouble multiple times for going into the girls locker room and trying to grope girls changing. It was an urge I couldn’t resist, an itch I couldn’t scratch and I just could not help myself. 

Everyone already thought I was a weirdo so getting girls was never my strong suit when I was younger until I learned to fake being normal. It is funny now, but back then I wish I could have seen myself in other people's eyes because it would have been hilarious to see this already awkward kid trying to fake emotions he had no idea how to feel. I mean what is happiness, what is sadness?

In my high school days I was already thinking about killing. I had visions of blood, torn flesh, and other very macabre dreams that shook me or my very core. They were vivid like they were really happening. I’d wake up in a cold sweat with a furious anger burning deep inside of me. I needed to kill something, I needed to see if the visions of blood and torn flesh would satisfy this anger inside. So I decided to find something I could easily kill.

For years we have had this cat come around our backyard. My mother was very submissive and would befriend it by feeding it. My dad would get so mad and yell at her and beat her for feeding it.  This cat would become my very first kill. Up until now I controlled my urges and allowed the voices to speak without much action, but they were getting more dominant and louder and I devised a plan to get the cat.

I lured it one night with some food, it was the same food my mother had used a few nights ago. The cat came out from behind the fence and glared at me with bright green pulsing eyes as if to say “I don’t trust you.” I motioned for the cat to come and eat. It looked hungry and was so thin you could see ribs. The cat slowly and cautiously made his way closer and closer until it finally was within reach of me. 

I grabbed the cat and quickly sliced her stomach open before the fucking thing could scratch me. Blood spewed everywhere and the insides came spilling out. It was disgusting and smelled awful, but I was in absolute delight. As the blood from the cat covered me I felt warm, at peace and the noise stopped and for a moment the voices stopped. That moment of clarity brought me to the conclusion that I needed to kill things more often, that I needed to satisfy these voices by offering a sacrifice.

A few years had passed and I went from killing that cat to other cats, dogs, birds and smaller animals too. All gave me some relief from the voices, but none of those kills completely satisfied me for long.  That's when I met Katie, sweet Katie. Such a sweet college girl who to be honest was way too naive and trusting. It was her ultimate downfall. I mean here I am killing animals left and right, bathing in blood daily and she comes long and has a crush on me?

So Katie found a particular liking in me, and honest for her it was love at first sight. By then I had already perfected the art of fake it til you make it and was very good at selling the fake personality and charm. I truly never felt love and could not begin to tell you what love feels like, but I knew Katie was special, she had something about her that drew me in.

Katie was a thin, black haired girl who stood about 5’6”, and maybe 110 pounds. She had small breasts, and a modest ass. She had super long and slender legs that barely had any definition. She had an awkward slender frame that was not curvy, but was straight from her shoulders down. She did have a very beautiful face, full lips, and the biggest eyes I have ever seen on a girl. 

Katie and I hung out often, but never really dated as we were just close friends. It seemed the longer we hung out the louder the voices got and they were no longer satisfied by the killing I was still doing. Eventually the noise also returned and I felt like I was going crazy until one night I just could no longer control the chaos. I asked Katie to meet me in a local park in the city one night. It was not too odd of a request as we have hung out well beyond midnight chatting and drinking. 

I devised a plan as I did with hunting animals and planned on drugging her and killing her in an isolated part of the park. I know she can sometimes be a bit awkward and nervous about being in such an isolated part of the park but I know ways to ease that anxiety. I developed a charm and fake personality which is half the reason she continues to hang out with me.

As Katie came closer she said “Is it okay to be this far out? It is so dark out here.” I responded “Yeah, I wanted some extra privacy anyways because I feel like we should take things to the next level.” Katie became excited and her face turned red.

I told her I brought some drinks and hoped we could just chill, talk and have some drinks while we watch the stars. Katie bought into each word I said and as she drank her drink that was spiked I could sense her drifting away. 

“Wow, I am so tired right now. Maybe I should go home.” She said

I replied back “No not right now babe, I haven’t even had a chance to kiss you yet.” 

As I said that her eyes lit up and got big. I started to lean in and saw her eyes quickly roll up into her head and collapse to the grass. I smacked her leg and then her face hard and she did not budge. She was out, and I was ready to silence these voices for good...or so I thought.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a knife. It wasn’t fancy, but just a kitchen knife I took from the dorm room. I stripped her clothes off so I could see the real her in all of her glory. I took the knife and slid it up and down her body circling her nipples and tracing her pussy. I mistakenly left small cuts all over her body. As The cuts happened more and more something came over me and I started to carve her body leaving huge gashes. Blood spewing all over and onto the blades of grass. 

The adrenaline alone was like I just drank 5 red bulls and I had to have her. I rubbed my body on hers and soon we both were covered in blood. It was so erotic and I knew that she was beyond the ability of waking up, I mean she had lost too much blood and these cuts were too deep. A part of me felt bad because I didn’t savor the kill enough, I didn’t get to feel the lfe leave her body but now Katie had a chance to be a special part of me forever. 

I slipped my rock hard cock deep into her cunt and fucked her hard and rough. I didn’t even care there was so much hatred and adrenaline running through me at that moment all I could see was red. I grabbed her hips and pulled her closer as I thrusted deeper and harder; I could feel her still moving slightly trying to fight me but barely making any progress. At one moment as I fucked her bloody cunt raw I felt her body completely go limp and I knew she died. It was that moment I pulled out and exploded all over the grass. There was so much cum mixing with blood it was so euphoric. 

Well that is until reality set in…

I was freaking out, it was my first human kill and I left my damn semen all over the place. I quickly grabbed towels I had in the car and ran back to clean the grassy area as best as I could. I wiped it down and soaked the area with the liquid from the drinks we never drank. To this day I will never figure out how they didn’t find DNA, fingerprints, or anything. I was so sloppy and had no idea what I  was doing. 

I left Katie out there to be found in the morning, but I had to make the newly cleaned area dirty again so I dragged her about a foot or two and proceeded to stab her several times. I stabbed her over and over. There was a rage that came over me and if it wasn’t for them saying it on the news I would never have known how many times I stabbed her. According to the nightly news team on channel 7,  I stabbed Katie 62 times all over her face, torso, genitals, and legs. The scene was gruesome and you couldn’t tell that there was even a clean spot as it was all just blood and pieces of flesh and skin.

I submit Katie as my first victim, but certainly not my last, but I will have to perfect my kills if I am to continue. I cannot be sloppy or I will be put in prison. Not an impossible task, but being a logical thinker I must be diligent and think of all possible outcomes. So be on the lookout for more confessions...

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Written on Your Heart - Chapter 2

Soulmates AU where Rose is 12 and James (Ten) is 15.

Fic masterlist

Here’s chapter 2.  @doctorroseprompts​ for soulmate au (and a Ten story)

Please welcome Sarah Jane!  (And Jackie)

That night, Rose excused herself early to lock herself in her room and stare at her arm.  By now, the earliest messages she and James had shared had been washed away, but most of it remained.  She gently traced her nail over his words, and bit her lip nervously.

He was fifteen.  To twelve year old Rose, that felt impossibly old, especially for someone she was meant to spend her life with.  She knew rationally that most couples had an age gap, and three years was almost nothing, but he was right – at this point in their lives, it might as well have been centuries.

She’d mostly managed to convince herself that this was some cruel trick of the universe when she saw new writing appear.

Hi, Rose.

Her heart leapt, and she only considered ignoring it for a second before diving for a handful of pens, determined to figure out which would be best for writing to her soulmate.

Hi, James.

It was a long few moments before he replied.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent most of the afternoon staring at my arm, smiling like an idiot.

She didn’t hesitate.  Me too. My mum thinks I’ve lost the plot.

Does she know?

No, haven’t told anyone.  Too new – not ready to share.  You?

No, though my aunt’s been giving me a strange look since she got home.

You live with your aunt?

Yeah.  Parents died a few years ago.  You?

Just me and Mum.  Dad died when I was a baby.  Sorry about your parents.

Thanks.  You, too.

Where are you?

At home.  You?

Same – I’m in London.

She held her breath, wondering where her soulmate lived.

Ealing.

Really?  She managed to restrain from using an exclamation point as well, but couldn’t contain the bubble of happiness.  She’d been prepared for something unreasonable, but Ealing wasn’t too far – technically, it was part of greater London.

Since my parents died.  Any siblings?

Just me.  You?

Half-sister.  20. Lives in Chiswick with her mum and grandfather.

Sorry.  Are you close?

Were; she lived with us most of the time, didn’t get on with her mum.  But Sarah’s my mum’s sister, so she went back to her mum and I went to Sarah.

Wish there was a better word than sorry.

It’s ok.  We talk a lot – she drives to get me sometimes.

Rose felt her heart squeeze; somehow, she could feel the loneliness and grief radiating off him.

I wish I could give you a hug.

Me too.

Before Rose could reply, her mother stuck her head into her room.

“Rose, what are you doing? Why do you have ink all over your arms? Doesn’t matter – time for a shower. Now, missy.”  Jackie gave her daughter a serious look when Rose didn’t immediately jump up.

“Ok, Mum.”  She dutifully replied, not moving.  Her mother didn’t leave, just stared at her, waiting.

“I’ll go in a minute – I have to finish something first.”  That seemed to do the trick, as Jackie only gave her a five minute warning before pulling the door shut behind her.

I have to go.

Was it something I said?

No – my mum needs me to do something.

Ok.  I was all that came through, and after a few seconds Rose gave up and started preparing to shower.  By the time she was ready to head to the bathroom, the message had been completed.

I really enjoyed talking to you.  Can we talk more tomorrow?  I want to hear about you – feels like you already know my whole life story.

Rose smiled down at her arm, debating what to write.  The decision was made when her mum shouted that her time was up.

Definitely more tomorrow.  I enjoyed too.  Good night!

Dropping the pen, she raced to the bathroom.  She saw his final message when she leaned over to turn the water on.

Good night, love.

That night, she dreamed she was a princess, and James was a handsome prince come to sweep her off her feet and love her forever.

-

James made it about three days before his aunt figured out what was going on.  The first Saturday since ‘meeting’ Rose, he shuffled down to the kitchen to find Sarah Jane seating at the table, reading the paper and drinking coffee.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” She greeted him brightly, carefully folding her paper and rising.  “Can I make you some breakfast?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”  He sank into his usual seat at the table, watching suspiciously as she bustled around, fixing him breakfast, an altogether unusual sight.

“So, how was your week? I feel like I’ve hardly seen you.” She started off.  He tone was casual, but James was well aware how good of an investigative reporter she was; if he wasn’t careful, she’d know everything without him even realizing.  He and Rose had not yet discussed whether they wanted people to know; until he knew her feelings, he figured better safe than sorry.

“Uh, been good. Busy.  Lots of tests, you know.”  He tried to relax, knowing Sarah had bloodhound-like instincts.  Feeling a message come in from Rose, his hand instinctively twitched for a pen, but he managed to stop himself.

“Did you see Donna at all?”

He groaned with genuine remorse.  “No. We texted a bit, but she started a new job for some bloke who said ‘secretary’ and meant ‘slave’.  She’s miserable, cause he’s got her running around London with his dry cleaning and personal errands.  The pay’s decent, though, so she’s hoping she may be able to move out within a couple of months.”

“You know she’s always welcome here.  I’d love to have her join us – why, this house is so big, she could bring Wilf if she wanted!”

“I do, and so does she, but you know Sylvia’d never go for it, even if she is 20.”  James reminded his aunt, who sneered at the mention.

There’d been a vicious battle when Sydney and Verity Noble had died.  For as long as James could remember, Donna’d spent most of her time with her father, stepmother, and James.  They’d died not long after Donna’s seventeenth birthday, and it had been presumed that the siblings would stay together.  Despite Donna not technically being her sister’s daughter, Sarah had welcomed both children with open arms.  However, Sylvia had put her foot down, and managed to win a long, drawn-out legal battle to bring Donna back to her.

Now, three years later, Sarah still despised any mention of her deceased brother-in-law’s ex-wife, and had Donna round for dinner at least once a week.

“Well, if I can help in any way…”

“I know, but you can remind her tonight if you want.  She promised she’d be here.”

“Excellent.”  Sarah said brusquely, setting James’ breakfast in front of him before returning to her seat.

“So,” she started once he’d taken his first bite, “what’s going on?”

He froze only momentarily, before continuing to eat and making a confused noise.

“Don’t make that noise at me, James David.  What happened?  Did you make contact with your soulmate?”  She guessed shrewdly, and he put his fork down with a sigh.  He’d tried, but he couldn’t very well lie to a direct question, could he? He rationalized to himself.

“I did. Wednesday.  How’d you know?”

Sarah smirked at him, victorious.  “Because that’s the only possible explanation for why your arm has been slowly covered in ink since you came down.  Perhaps you should let them know you’re all right and will talk to them in a bit?”

James looked down at his arm to see she was right – there were a dozen messages from Rose now, the latest in all caps with multiple question marks.  Grabbing a pen from the sideboard, he quickly scribbled I’m ok.  Aunt knows.  Talk ASAP.

An immediate ok followed by a small heart appeared, and he set down the pen with a relieved sigh.

“So, start at the beginning and leave nothing out.”  Sarah leaned forward, waiting.

He began.

-

Fifteen minutes later, he was finished with the story, as well as his breakfast, and he sat back to watch his aunt process.

“So, soulmated.  To a twelve year old girl who lives in London. And you haven’t met?”  She asked for the third time, and James rolled his eyes.

“No, we haven’t.  And we haven’t discussed it, either.”

“Do her parents know?”

“It’s just her and her mum – her dad died when she was a baby.  And as far as I know, no.  But, again, we haven’t talked about it.”

“So what exactly have you talked about?”  Sarah asked. He shrugged.

“School, likes and dislikes, that sort of thing mostly.  Some personal, and I’m certainly curious, I want to know everything about her, but – I know the age difference now is a lot more problematic than it will be in five years. I don’t want to do anything that could put her in harm’s way, or have her be judged or disparaged.  I know I have responsibilities being the older one, and the guy, and – I’m her soulmate, Aunt Sarah.  I’ll do anything to protect her.”

Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair, making it look wild.  Surprisingly, when he looked up she was smiling at him.

“Well, I’m glad to see that you’re being reasonable and responsible.  You’re right – as she’s twelve, and you’re fifteen, the… optics could be bad.  I like that you’re already trying to take care of her.”  She hesitated then, before adding carefully, “You do understand that you can’t meet in person until she’s eighteen, don’t you?”

It was an unwritten social taboo that you could not go looking for your soulmate if you had contact but not met before you were eighteen.  This rule specifically applied to people with soulmarks like Rose’s and James’ – where you were in contact, able to share information about yourself, but had never met.  Because soulmates could have a sizeable age gap, it was specifically done to protect children who were matched with adults.  

Though the majority of soulmated couples felt as James did, with nothing but love and respect for their partner, there were always the few outliers who abused the power. Scientists were researching it, of course, but as it stood, no one knew what could make them snap.

Bearing all this in mind, James promised his aunt, “I do know, and I won’t try to.  I know Rose and I need to discuss this sort of stuff, and we will, but I’ll make sure she understands as well.  I’m sure she does though.”

Sarah nodded slowly. “I know this will be a long, difficult six years for you, James, trying to resist meeting her, and just know that I will always love and support you – and her, once she’s of age.  You can talk to me any time, and know your confidences are safe with me.  Just one last thing, then I’ll let you get back to talking to her.  Have you thought about what, if anything, you’ll tell your sister?”

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #Doctor Who #human!tenxrose #human!ten #rose tyler #Written On Your Heart #soulmates au

[asapcvsey]

11.29.19 | 10:15PM

Mama Belle passed away tonight.

While I had been prepared for that for a while, and there were plenty of signs of it for a long time coming, it still hurts pretty bad, despite the fact that I felt prepared for anything and had already come to accept everything.

I swear that my earliest memory is being bathed in the kitchen sink by my grandma at her house in Pasadena. I remember looking up at her and the ceiling as she shampooed my hair while she smiled and sang to me.

She had been visiting me in my dreams for the past couple of months, and at first I was surprised... admittedly because I felt uncomfortable visiting her. And that isn’t because of the proximity TO her, but the fact that it was so hard to watch her deteriorate the way she did and turn into someone I did not know—my feisty, hilarious, sweet, loving, compassionate—and only—grandmother, into someone who lost her most precious memories, and the faces of who she loved most. I felt sad, and sorry, and even more sad and more sorry that instead of embracing her the way most of my family did, I felt like a stranger in a room with her, especially when she stopped being able to recall my name (and the names of my other cousins and family members).

It was something I consistently felt bad about. Not going to see her because I was worried, or scared, and it made me so sad to see her like that. The difference is that the rest of my family didn’t cringe away from the change. But I kind of crumpled away from it, because this woman was someone who watched over me every day after school, took me on trips to the grocery store to buy my favorite gum, made me lunch/dinner when my parents had to work late, and ten times over helped mediate the tension between my dad and I whenever he lost his temper and kicked me out of the house.

And I realize now that in my entire life, my grandma was possibly one of the only people (or even the only person) that remained pure in my eyes and my heart. Never had I ever felt anger or ill feelings toward my grandma. Never have I resented her or felt an inkling of negative feelings toward her. Growing up, she was my rock. And when she started to lose her memory and deteriorate, the only thing I resented was the fact that it had to happen to this extraordinary woman, who helped raise me and care for me.

Most of my childhood was spent in her home growing up. I lived next door, and my most vivid memories with my grandma are those trips to the grocery store, in her gardens, and at the cemetery visiting Lola Minga.

I feel like now, I took those memories for granted. Innocent memories that bring fullness to my heart, but play in the back of my head like a clear-as-day home movie.

I guess you could say I had a feeling she was ready to pass when she visited me in my dreams about a week and a half ago, even before I got news that she was in critical condition. I had been having recurring dreams of her at the house in Pasadena, where I used to live... but the last time was different. The last time, I saw her in the house I live in today, downstairs on the first floor in the morning time, milling about the dining room like it was any other day. We exchanged words for a while, like it was a fine Sunday morning. Just chatting as she swept and cleaned, until I realized the setting was different. We were not in her home, but in mine. And then I felt a wave of awareness wash over me before the tears came. And then I asked her, “Mama Belle, you have your mobility back? Your memories, too?” as my voice caught on my throat. She didn’t respond. She just smiled at me peacefully as my eyes filled with tears, and my heart felt whole. I woke up that morning with the sun streaming through my window and tears still welled in my eyes. 

I thought, maybe I’m dreaming this because I feel bad about not being able to see her. But then I also thought, what if she’s trying to tell me she’s ready to go now?

Then my mom calls me last Friday to tell me she isn’t doing so well. And I was so overcome with emotions and cried alone in my bathroom because I knew at that moment she was giving me a sign.

I visited her often after that. But the last time I saw her, the day before Thanksgiving, it gave me peace of mind. I saw my Lolo Roland stroking her hair, and her eyes were open, and she was looking at him. Really looking at him—not past him, like he was a ghost. But really seeing him. And that was enough to put my heart at peace that day, even though I had been crying on and off since my mom gave me the news that she was declining rapidly.

She wasn’t alone when she passed, and for that I am thankful. My heart is broken for my grandma, this woman who I’ve always loved and admired my entire life; who kept my entire family together, and single-handedly raised my cousins, siblings, and I whenever our parents could not or had trouble managing on their own.

But she’s resting peacefully now, and with my Lola Minga, I hope. I hope I see her again, in butterfly form, as she would always tell me that souls like Lola Minga would return—watching over us from the other side. I hope I see you too, Mama Belle.

Rest easy, Mama Belle. I know you’ll be watching over us. We love you eternally. We will meet again on the other side.

xo Casey