#it’ll be a perfect summer song for sure ^^

[minjv]

no one makes bright bubblegum pop like jype ggs

[probablysimpledreams]

giggling thinking about me and keigo making s’mores together😋😋

[handlemehyuck]

LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE BEEP for boyfriend dreamies

♡a voicemail for mark˚ ⋆。

“i keep listening to songs i haven’t heard in forever, not since i was a kid or teenager, and they transport me back to that time. suddenly, i’m wearing pink converse and jean shorts and the t-shirt from my summer play. it’s saturday, and i’m sitting on the stairs waiting for my friend to arrive, sunlight all over the walls. we wanted to have a sleepover, but there’s church in the morning, so she’ll stay as late as she can, probably until we’re dozing off on the couch watching one of the dvds she brought. naturally, i have to think about you because music wraps around your life in a way it never will for me. we’ve probably talked about this. maybe the conversation took a different shape before, but what’s a song that takes you back? what’s a time you miss and revisit through music? do you have time to think about those things? your life is go go go, and i’ve made silly wishes on eyelashes about peering into your head. i’m a reminiscer, and i know not everyone is, but you’re a creative. you’re a writer—music wraps around your life in a special way, so the idea of nostalgia visiting rarely seems unrealistic? but i guess i can’t know until you tell me. i see it often. i see it when i’m out without my glasses. the distant view is blurry, and suddenly, there i am, riding a bike, pink converse on. what shows up in your blurry nostalgia view?”

♡a voicemail for renjun˚ ⋆。

“babyyyy, i had the best time tonight. i feel like i’m covered in stars. areum’s parents have this sprawling backyard, so we collected a bunch of blankets, packed a picnic basket, and stayed out for hours beneath the most beautiful willow tree i’ve ever seen. i wore linen pants and a bikini top—your favorite one. i had a cardigan too, just in case, but the weather was perfect. i really needed to get out of the city. i know you know that, and i wanted to call you because… hmm sometimes i feel like my life is strung together by reminders. reminders of you and other people and things i love. reminders of our beginnings and all the sweet milestones along the way. i think my love could light up all the stars, more stars than i could ever see with my own eyes, enough stars to make a path between your hometown and my own. i’ll bring you back a jar of stardust. it’ll be empty… you’ll think it’s empty. sometimes magical things are invisible, or they just glow in the dark. anyway, it’s late, like 3 am, and i’m honestly glad you didn’t answer. as badly as i want to hear your voice, you should be asleep. i hope this voicemail makes you smile in the morning. i’ll send you some pictures too. see you on sunday. MWAH kisses *giggles*.”

♡a voicemail for jeno˚ ⋆。

“i’m going to my mom’s tomorrow, and i keep thinking about the drive. i rented a car… you know all of this already, but i guess it’s just present in my mind again. i’m staring at my luggage right now, and the entire thing feels wrong. i’m sorry if this sounds horrible, but i’m so used to you leaving. i’ve gotten really good at that. i’m good at being alone. i made sure i love my apartment and feel at home in it when you’re away because i’d fully unravel or find myself at your place more often than i already am if didn’t love it… stopping by to water all of those plants you don’t actually have. anyway, yeah… it just feels weird. i feel like you should be coming. i keep thinking about driving together: which one of us would pump the gas? who would run inside for snacks? what would we talk about in the car? would you drive halfway or drive all the way because you know i’d rather not if the option’s available to me? i know i’ll be fine. i’ve driven long ways on my own before, but it’ll be weird. i’ll be in a guest room. i don’t know what color the comforter is. i don’t know if i’ll like the sheets. my mom knows i’m weird and particular, but will she remember that when she’s fluffing up the pillows? what will i do when i can’t sleep? i love my mom. i haven’t seen her in months, but i close my eyes and daydream about being with you. i yearn for you in the stickiest of ways. it probably falls off of me too and hangs thickly in the air, gets stuck to the bottom of people’s shoes. i’d apologize if i knew, but i’m all caught up on you you you... i’m saying all of this, but i know this trip will be good for me. i know i’m not dependent on you, but last year was one of your busiest yet. and pride isn’t a question—i’ll spend my entire life being proud of you, but i can’t pretend there weren’t nights when the missing was so palpable i couldn’t sleep, so i read or baked bread or watched my toes wrinkle in the bath. it would be good for me to sleep at my mom’s, wake up to a new view, share breakfast, and simple conversation. i know i need the rest. i know everything will be fine.”

♡a voicemail for haechan˚ ⋆。

“if you told me the grass and the trees and the streets are all white, i would believe you. it’s like a blizzard out there. i’ve never seen so much white in my entire life. honestly, it’s kind of freaking me out, making me feel claustrophobic. i look up at the sky, back down again, and nothing changes, apart from the shapes and the saving grace of traffic lights—at least their colors are still clear. could we get by with just green, red and yellow for the rest of our lives?… some food for thought. anyway, it’s snowing *laughs*. i’m on my… third? tea after a few hot chocolates as well. no food so far today, just warm drinks. last time it snowed, you made kimchi jjigae and we ate in front of the window. do you remember that? we brought over my coffee table and the pot, bowls, and rice… i stopped listening to your story, all zeroed in on a snowflake. i didn’t look away until you kissed my neck. that’s quite a dangerous superpower: you have me at will with kisses, but i trust you with my weakest point... it wouldn’t be the same if i make kimchi jjigae and eat in front of the window without you. i should sit at the dining room table or maybe even the kitchen island—give myself a break from all the white. hopefully, i can still see you tomorrow. maybe you can kiss my neck again and tend to a few of my other weaker points… i love you.”

♡a voicemail for jaemin˚ ⋆。

“i want you to come over right now, and i know that you can’t. i also know that i might not see you for a couple of days, but i want to do nothing with you. i wish it didn’t feel silly… or embarrassing to want. i don’t know why wanting is so uncomfortable for me to share, especially because i’ve wanted loudly with you already, over and over again… but i guess i just wanted you to know. i painted my nails and went to the grocery store and chopped bell peppers because if they’re already prepped i know i’ll be more likely to eat them. i hung up some pictures in my room, and i kept thinking about you when i’d step back to make sure each one was straight. you would’ve done that part for me. i want to do everything together, and i don’t want you to feel bad because we can’t. that’s not why i’m leaving you this. i just know how happy it makes me feel when you express your want for me, in small ways, in spontaneous ways, in sexy ways… in uncomfortable ways, when you just want to be held, when you just need me to listen… it never ends with you. it never ends with me. we’re these entities that constantly move together and around each other, and i know i can get where i need to go without you, but it’s so much more fun when you’re here, and we’re in motion together. i’m making tea, and i think i’m going to drink it on the balcony. i’ll have to put socks on and a coat, but i want to hear the traffic noise and look down at people by themselves or in groups walking around and existing. i was existing for a long time. i felt really disconnected from living, but i knew i wanted to—to feel like i was living again. i just wasn’t quite sure how to get back to that place, but i was starting to figure it out when we met. on our first date, i felt like i struck gold. it was in your smile and your laughter, and this feeling that embraced me because all of a sudden i wasn’t nervous. i had only said your name out loud three times, but it felt so comfortable in my mouth. i remember leaving and whispering it to myself over and over again, and i couldn’t help but hope it would become a name i’d say for the rest of my life. so i’m going to drink my tea and enjoy this beautiful city we live in. i’m going to fold laundry and plan dinner. i’m going to think of you and get excited about the next night we fall asleep together.”

♡a voicemail for chenle˚ ⋆。

“i made it through the list of movies you left me. that sticky note is cute by the way. i like the border of little bears wearing scarves. where’d you get it? i almost threw it out on accident yesterday when i was cleaning my kitchen. now it’s living on my fridge. i taped it down on every side so my cleaning, autopilot fingers can’t attempt a second disposal… when you get this, i’d love some more movies. i’d ask for a horror film, but the idea of watching anything scary without you sounds worse than unclogging the shower drain or some other unpleasant household chore. oh! i went out this morning with chaewon, and she’s dating someone new. i started talking about hosting a dinner before i could really think it through. would you host another one with me? no pressure. chaewon told me not to even mention it to you, something about bad luck… she needs to wait a couple months before bringing them around all of our friends—has to pass 60 days of dating. there’s something romantic about a dinner party to me, though. maybe it’s just the wholesome quality time with my favorite people and knowing you’re only a look away. i don’t know if you remember, but you would always trail your fingertip up and down the back of my arm and kiss my cheek every time you got up, never wanting to interrupt the conversation but noticing the glasses in need of more wine. *groan* everything you do turns me on… ridiculous. do you even have a clue? no, i know you do. *sigh* g’night sunshine.”

♡a voicemail for jisung˚ ⋆。

“that fight was gross. i had to shower as soon as i got home, and the clothes i was wearing are already in the washing machine. are you ok? i know we tried to make it pretty again, but it felt ugly even at the end, and your eyes were so red. i hate seeing you cry. i love it actually… seeing your emotions, but never when it’s like that. i was so close to going to your favorite restaurant and picking us up something, but i know you need some time. but, if you listen to this, you can text me if you’re hungry, and i will go to your favorite restaurant. i can leave the food outside or just in the entryway, unless you’re crying again when i get there. then, i will take off my shoes and hug you, and i won’t stop until you at least hug me back. i’m so sorry. i don’t… most of the time i don’t feel insecure, but sometimes it comes out, and it takes this ugly shape that looks alien to me. i hope it looks alien to you too. i don’t want to be that way often enough for it to become familiar. tell me if it ever does. the idea alone makes me feel sick to my stomach. please text me at least. ok. dammit, i don’t want to hang up. i keep thinking you’ll pick up—”

[gucciwins]

A Family of Three Grows

A/N: Thank you to the lovely Nonnie who brought back inspiration for this story I wrote in 2020 and last gave an update in 2022. Who knew 2024 would be the year I brought it back. This was fun to write and go back to this family's dynamics. Hope you enjoy, my sweet friends 💜

Word count: 3234

Adore You / Three Time / Leather and Lace / Family / Ask

+

Harry loved his family. 

Y/N and Atticus were everything to him and when Y/N broke the news their family was going to be growing, he was over the moon. It’s something they talked about but never rushed because they had Atticus, their sweet angel who would not stop growing. 

Atticus was the smartest boy. He was the top of his class and loved to read chapter books with Y/N. Each night, they would read a chapter and discuss their thoughts over breakfast in the morning. Harry’s input was asking questions so he could stay in the loop. Harry still remembered a summer day where he went to run errands, leaving them at home reading in bed and came to find them cuddled with ten books laid on their bed. He knew his son valued this time with the woman he called Mum. 

Life had treated them well. Y/N was writing, going to the studio when Atticus was at school. Harry adhered to the schedule and was open to working extra hours. Y/N and Harry were the perfect team. She helped create the entirety of Harry’s house. It was an album he felt captured their life in their own way. The grammy’s that year were a pleasant bonus to round out the amazing year they had. 

Y/N and Harry were in the studio today while Atticus was at school. Harry was in no rush to push out a fourth album. He enjoyed being in the studio with Y/N. It made him fall in love with her all over again. The ideas she brought were something he didn’t take for granted.

Y/N was sitting at the piano wearing her favorite oversized Ferrari sweater. The girl clung to her worn-out shirt, despite its tears. Not that he would ever make her. He had his fair share of tattered shirts in his closet. 

She was beautiful. How lucky he was to have her as his partner for the past five years. Their family is everything he dreamed of when he was a young boy. Without looking, she called for him to sit beside her on the bench. He did so without a second thought. 

“I wrote a song–well, it’s unfinished,” she tells him as she plays the soothing lullaby she wrote for Atticus when he was six years old and was having a hard time sleeping through the night. It’s something she played repeatedly until Atty would fall asleep. 

“Can I hear it?” 

Y/N shifts. She seemed reluctant to reveal it to him. 

“Well, it might not be any good,” she defends, and she pulls her notebook. 

Harry frowns. Y/N being insecure in the studio is unheard of unless it’s something she’s been holding in her chest for a long time and is finally letting it out. She passes him the notebook. There’s a picture holding the place she wants him to read. One look at her is all the encouragement he needs to open up the book and read the first words: For Atty.

He reads line by line and by the time he reaches the last words, there are tears fighting to fall from his eyes. Y/N wrote a song for their song. It’s a rough draft, and he knows she wants him to help her finish it. 

“Atticus knows how much we love him–how much I love him. But I want him to hear this song and know that my love isn’t something that will ever go away. If anything, it’ll only get stronger.” She tells Harry. 

It takes everything in him to not break down because he never expected to be loved this much in life. He expected to be content, but this was beyond anything he could ever dream of. “It’s fucking perfect.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, it’s not even–” 

Harry stops her, reaching for her hand. He brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her hand. “It’s amazing. You wrote a song for our boy. Sure it’s not finished, but you wrote those lyrics calling our sun the light of our life. The reason the world turns. I have never been able to put into words how much he means to me, but you did it.” 

“I love you,” Y/N reminds him.

“Love you, too. So fucking much.” 

“Will you sing it?” Y/N asks. Those beautiful eyes are staring at him and there is no way he can tell her no.

After so many years together, Harry understands how Y/N writes songs. He can see the melody written out. It’s something that frustrates Tyler because he doesn’t pick up on her cues. Harry tells him not to sweat it, it’s something only they have. Something they have as the perfect pair. 

Y/N plays the melody on the piano as Harry sings the lyrics. The longer he sings, the more he feels his throat close up and by the final lyrics, he’s got tears streaming down his face. “I don’t think I can sing it without crying.” 

She laughs. “You’ll have to try. I want us to record it for Atty. Maybe get it on a record for him.” 

Harry gives her a long kiss. “That sounds like the best idea.” 

Y/N and Harry spent the rest of the day in the studio, knowing Atticus was with Anne for the day allowed them the extra time to be in the studio. By the time dinner rolled around, Harry had ordered them food from her favorite Chinese food restaurant. Y/N reminded him three times not to forget her spring rolls. Over dinner, they discussed the song and how they might want to surprise Atticus. Y/N made him promise not to tell him until they could have it produced by their good friend, Tyler. It would take some time, but it would be worth it. 

Y/N had a last surprise for Harry. They were back to sitting side by side on the piano bench when she passed him her notebook again. “There is one last surprise,” Y/N tells him. She flips the notebook a few more pages. There is a paper. He thinks nothing of it until Y/N turns it around for him.

A sonogram. 

It’s a black photo with a small gray blob in the center. Harry isn’t sure what to think. It can’t be true. Can it?

He squints, picking up the paper, and in the corner has Y/N’s hyphenated name.

“Baby, is this?” He gets out.

“What is it?”

“Are we–are you?” Harry lifts his head to meet her eyes that are brimming with tears. “Are you pregnant?” 

Y/N lets out a joyous laugh, one that finds a place deep in his heart. “Yeah,” she confirms. “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.” 

“Oh, my goodness.” Harry looks back down at the sonogram. He wants to know everything, but all he can do is cry. Y/N stands up from the bench to move closer to him. Harry turns his body, resting his head on her stomach, Y/N settles her hands on his shoulder. She lets one run through his hair as he takes in the news that they are going to be giving Atticus a sibling. Something he would ask for constantly. They were making a dream come true. 

“Hi, little pea. I’m your Daddy.” 

Harry pulls away from Y/N when he hears a loud sob. “I’m sorry,” Y/N apologies for startling him. “That was–I don’t even know how to explain it, but fuck, you’re so amazing.” 

He drags Y/N to sit in his lap. Harry holds her close, rocking her back and forth, kissing her neck, whispering, I love you. This is something they talked about endlessly. Atticus was their boy. They had always said their family was perfect. Whether they added to their family or not, they are happy, but getting this addition into their life felt right. 

Y/N isn’t sure how much time passes, but she is ready to go home and be with Atticus. As they’re packing up, Y/N steps towards Harry, knowing he might be upset with the only downside to the news of her pregnancy. “H, we can’t tell anyone. Not Atticus. Not even Anne.” 

“But love, how do you expect me to resist?” 

Y/N’s smile is sincere. She knows he wants to scream it from the rooftops. “It’s early,” she stresses. “I want us to make sure everything is okay. That we make it past this first trimester. I know that’s asking a lot for you.”

Harry shakes his head. “Not at all, Lovie. I understand. Your health and the babies are important. I respect that.”

She gives him a kiss. “Thank you.” 

“Let’s get home to our sweet boy.” 

They leave the studio with their hearts full. 

+

It’s been three months and Y/N’s doctor gave them the all clear. Their sweet bub is growing at a good rate and Y/N is doing spectacular. No morning sickness, no weird food cravings (yet) and is glowing. Harry was excited because that meant it was time for them to share the news with their family, but most importantly, to Atticus. 

Harry spent the day getting the surprise ready. The vinyl was in a special box ready to be opened and then played. They’d be doing that first, then give Atticus the news. While Harry ran around getting everything perfect, Y/N laid in the hammock in their backyard with Atticus. They each had a book in hand. Atticus at 9 was reading the Percy Jackson series, something Y/N was excited about because they were some of her favorite books when she was growing up. Now she got to see her son experience everything she did at his age. It helped that she could answer questions he had, without spoilers, of course. 

Y/N set her book down, running her hand through Atticus’ brown locks similar to Harry’s. She knew he’d made a great older brother. She also feared he’d think she’d loved him less with a baby around, which was far from the truth. Atticus was hers, he was her baby boy and nothing or no one could take that from her. Harry likes to joke and say Atticus is her twin instead of his because he takes after her. Atticus has all of Harry’s looks but is everything her child for he has her love of reading. He loves the ocean and could spend hours in there with them. Atty was charismatic and had everyone’s attention as soon as he walked into a room. He exuded confidence and skillfully commanded attention with his voice. Y/N liked to say he picked up on both of their traits, but Harry assured her Atticus was a piece of her. It never failed to make her cry. 

“I love you Atticus.” Y/N told him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

Atticus bookmarked the page he was on. “I love you too, Mum.” 

Y/N wanted to blurt out the news to Atticus, but knew Harry would be upset she did it without him, so she held it in. 

“Forever going to be my sweet boy?” Y/N asks. 

“Course. Going to take care of you all my life,” Atticus promises. 

Y/N smiles. A very Harry answer. “Much appreciated. I think your dad has got you covered.”

Atticus shrugs, “two of us looking out for you isn’t bad.” 

“Glad I’m in safe hands.” 

Atticus goes back to reading but Y/N stays lost in thought, waiting for Harry to announce his arrival. It isn’t much longer when Harry rushes through the backyard, box in hand. Y/N sits up, eager to give it to her son, but Atticus doesn’t seem concerned about his reading. 

“Hi bud, got you something?” Harry shakes the box softly. 

“Two pages left,” Atticus mumbles. 

Harry frowns. “This is your fault.” He points at Y/N.

Y/N gasps. “Please, who bought him an entire library?”

“Again you,” he defends. 

“Technically, your money.”

“Our money,” Harry corrects. 

Atticus is entranced in his reading and Harry uses the time to steal a kiss from Y/N. They refrain from anything too much for Atticus’ sake, but he never minds seeing them give a bit of affection. 

“Chapter done,” Atticus shouts. “Gimme. Gimmie.” He makes grabby hands, but Harry shakes his head, telling him they had to head inside. 

Y/N holds onto Harry’s arm as Atticus rushes inside to the piano room. It’s his favorite room in their Malibu home. The view is perfect. You can see the tides rolling in, one landing on top of another. The sounds perfect to lull someone to sleep. 

Harry sits next to Atticus while Y/N kneels in front of him, her hands pressed together under her chin as she watches him tear the paper. Y/N remembers doing that as a child and knows her mother was a saint for the patience she had. Y/N is close to ripping it herself, but when she sees the brown box, she settles down for a single moment.

Atticus pulls out the record. It’s in a sleeve with a beautiful print of Y/N, Harry and Atticus running through the sand a few months back. Anne had taken it and it became their favorite picture as a family. Harry

thought it would be the perfect fit, and it was. On the top of the cover it read “Atticus’ Song”. His small hands ran over the words as he sounded it out. 

“Is this us?” 

Y/N stroked his cheek. “Yeah, bubs. It’s for you.” 

“Can you play it?” Atticus asks Y/N. 

Harry knew Y/N was nervous. Hell, he was too. There was no worse critic than an honest nine-year-old. As Y/N placed the record on the player, Atticus fiddled with the string of the bracelet he made the other day with Harry. They all had a similar one on their wrist, Atticus having made Y/N’s matching them. Y/N walked back, squeezing next to Harry. Atticus closed his eyes to focus on the opening notes of the song. He was just like Harry, a true critic and admirer of all music. This time was no different. 

The song was slow and had the melody of a lullaby. Harry’s voice welcomed them into the song, with Y/N’s joining him in the chorus. Y/N saw Atticus’ lip twitch during her solo and she couldn’t help but squeeze Harry’s arm. The song ran its course, and they waited patiently for his thoughts. 

“Nice. It was really nice.” 

Y/N let out a deep breath she was holding. Atticus cries, and Y/N panics as she swoops him into her lap before Harry can even move. She holds him tight to her chest as she meets Harry’s worried stare.

“Darling, my darling boy. I got you. I always have you.” Y/N whispers, brushing his hair back, trying her best to soothe him. Y/N rocks him back and forth, letting him get out all his emotions. 

Atticus pulls back, his sniffles the only sound in the room. “Promise I like it.” 

Harry laughs. “Tears would say otherwise, bud.” 

“It–I–I” Atticus isn’t sure how to explain what he felt. “Can we play it every day?” 

Y/N presses a kiss to his temple. “Anything for you.” 

“You wrote it Mumma?” 

Harry scoffs in defense. “What if I did? Huh?” 

Atticus giggles. “Okay, Dad.” 

Harry pouts. Y/N is the stronger song writer, there is no fighting it. “Fine, she wrote most of it.” 

“We did it together,” Y/N answers. 

“It’s my new favorite.” Atticus declares proudly. 

“Good. That’s good. We do have one last surprise.” Harry is eager to share the news.

He stands up and goes for the frame they put the sonogram in for Atticus to keep in his room. While Harry steps out, Y/N settles Atticus in the middle of the sofa for Harry to sit next to him. Honestly, she wants to record this moment but decides it’s better to keep it private between them. Harry comes back with his dimples on display and Atticus is quick to be suspicious. 

“Now close your eyes,” Harry orders. 

Atticus looks weary but does as he’s told. Harry places the frame in his hands and when Atticus opens his eyes, he is looking at their most recent sonogram. It’s clear there is a baby in the middle with its head and body. Atticus would be quick to put it together, but even if he didn’t, the frame reading “Best Brother” would be a dead giveaway. Atticus’ jaw drops at the news. His eyes were not leaving Y/N’s as if he was waiting for them to say “just kidding” because he had waited a long time for this moment. There was a baby in his mum’s stomach. He was going to be an older brother. 

“Is that why you’re always snacking?” Is the first thing Atticus says. 

“Atticus,” Harry shouts playfully. Harry spares a glance at Y/N, unsure how she will react. She’s been a weeping mess, even if she denies it’s the pregnancy hormones. Instead, she surprises him by laughing. It’s a full belly laugh that makes her tear up. 

It is true Y/N had been snacking recently, always something in her hand from a mandarin to banana chips. Harry had stocked up on different snacks on his weekly run to Tesco. He was sure Y/N had almost finished them, but he didn’t mind making all the extra runs out. Anything for his wife. 

“How long do I have to wait to meet them?” Atticus asks when Y/N’s laughter has died down.

Y/N places her hand over her stomach. She hasn’t popped yet, but her doctor told her it would happen soon. Harry had taken photos every day, so she had seen the difference. “About six months to go, Atty.” 

His eyes widened. “Too long.” 

Harry laughs, pushing back Atticus’ growing curls. “Trust me, I know. But we’ve got an important job during this time.”

Y/N smacks Harry’s shoulder. “You don’t have a job, baby. We want you to keep being you. You can talk to us about the baby, about anything.” 

“Can they hear me?” Is his follow up question. 

“Mmm, you can talk to them all you like. Your Daddy certainly likes to do so.” 

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “Thought you liked it.” 

Y/N gives Harry a kiss. “I love it. One of my favorite parts of the day.”

“Okay. Can I do it now?” Atticus asks. 

Harry nods and gestures for him to settle on the couch with Y/N. He sits on Y/N’s lap while Harry is quick to try to move him, wanting him to be careful with her. Y/N simply pulls him closer, and it reminds him of how perfect of a mother Y/N already is. 

He joins his family on the couch, all snuggled close, while they listen to Atticus talk to his sibling. It’s one of the best days of Harry’s life and he can’t wait to make more memories in a few months’ time. For now, he will enjoy these special moments. 

[cerebralisis]

One more post before the show? Okay fine. I’ve been thinking a lot about You’re on Your Own Kid now that this is wrapping up. What do you wanna bet she plays it tonight?

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes = This has been the fight of my career. From the beginning, I should have said no. And now we’ve got bad blood.

Summer went away. Still the yearning stays. I play it cool with the best of them = Summer 2019 came and went. The plan failed. I pretend I’m fine, but I’m not. I still want to be free.

I wait patiently. He’s gonna notice me. It’s okay we’re the best of friends. Anyway. = I’ve dropped so many hints for my fans. They say they love me, and they’re really good at picking up on Easter eggs so surely they’ll notice the real me… right?

I hear it in your voice. You’re smoking with your boys. I touch my phone as if it’s your face = There she goes again - the pop star is out in public hiding behind smokescreens with another of her masquerading men.

I see the great escape. So long Daisy May. I picked the petals, he loved me not = My fans never figured it out, so it’s time to go. I’ve found a way to leave behind this phony trademark character.

Something different bloomed writing in my room. I play my songs in the parking lots. I’ll run away. = While writing folklore and evermore, I realized that I don’t need the industry or the pop star at all. I’ll re-record everything, I’ll cut out the middle man, I’ll ditch my brand and do it on my own.

I search the party of better bodies just to learn that my dreams aren’t rare = My dreams are to be free. As I walk through these industry parties, I see that I’m not the only one. There are a lot of us trapped in here.

I gave my blood sweat and tears for this. I hosted parties and starved my body like I’d be saved by a perfect kiss = I’ve given all I have and turned into the unhealthiest version of myself to make everyone else happy and be who they want me to be

The jokes weren’t funny, I took the money, my friends from home don’t know what to say = This whole process has been so humiliating. I’ve sold out my authenticity for money and success.

I looked around in a blood-soaked gown and I saw something they can’t take away = No matter what the public or the industry does to me, I know who I am, and there are people close to me who know the real me and love me.

Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned - It’s time for the next chapter. Even if I burn bridges with my fans and the industry, and I burn down the bridges of my songs, there’s more beyond that.

So make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it. You’ve got not reason to be afraid = I’ll make new friends in the process. I have to do this. It’ll be okay.

You’re on your own kid. Yeah you can face this.

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷ now playing

Icarus: Can we change the song? I’m not feeling the uplifting music today.

Aponi: Am I sensing grouchiness?

Winona: Nah, it’s the dread of recognizing a mistake. We all feel it too, Icarus.

Icarus: Winona, I swear to god-

[ the music gets louder ]

Icarus: So, what do we think?

Winona: [ cackles ] Oh this is GOLD! 

Aponi: It’s… Big.

Winona: I’m pretty sure the house has been broken into.

Icarus: No it hasn’t.

Winona: We’re gonna ignore the broken window? Alright.

Icarus: It’s not broken! 

Winona: It is. Have you even checked inside?

Icarus: I, uhm.

Winona: You checked, right?

Aponi: You’re stressing out your brother, I’m sure everything will be fine.

Icarus: It’s not fine.

Winona: You’ve doomed us. 

Icarus: I wasn’t trying to!

Winona: There’s rat poop all over the floor, we’re literally going to get the plague living here.

Icarus: Rats shouldn’t be common in this area-

Winona: Oh my god- Look!

Icarus: That’s… Uhm. Yeah that looks like it belongs to a rat.

Winona: Lovely, I’ll look up hotels in the nicely conditioned truck because I’m positive the AC is broken as well. Nice one.

Aponi: Icarus, I know that look.

Icarus: I messed up bad, didn’t I? Got too ahead of myself and put us in a terrible situation.

Aponi: Hey, don’t beat yourself up now. Sure, the house has some quirks, nobody’s perfect. Applies to homes as well but we’re in this together.

Icarus: I’m not gonna ask you to fix this.

Aponi: I won’t be much help, but I can do small things. We’ll all work together to build a home. It’ll be like a fun summer project!

Icarus: I can always ask Syx and Ares to help.

Aponi: Exactly! However I think for today, we can start by cleaning the place and uh, let’s stay at a hotel for tonight.

Icarus: Agreed. I’ll grab the broom and trash bags. 

Winona: Found a place ten minutes away. Can I borrow your card?

Icarus: In a second, we’re gonna clean up the place.

Winona: Why? Just sell the place. 

Icarus: No, we’re gonna make it a home. 

Winona: Dude.

Icarus: Winona, I really need your support in this. Please.

Winona: Whatever, but I call aux!

Icarus: Fine. Fine!

[samiferboy]

flicker back

inspired by @metztlilix's post:

anyway yeah huge fan of the hc Sam killed himself multiple times and Lucifer kept bringing him back in s5 I also think we should have gotten some scenes of Lucifer cradling Sam like a child in a pool of blood and gore while whispering “it’ll never end.” plus more hallucination-coercions of trying to get him to say yes but like in a toxic manipulative way coated in sugar. yk.

also on ao3!

Rating: Mature Warnings: SUICIDE like lots of suicide, blood, mild gore Pairing: Samifer (sort of, lowkey) Other tags: s5e3: free to be you and me, heaven, dreams/memories, persuasion, attempted manipulation Word count: 4,200

"I'll just bring you back." Lucifer makes good on a promise. Then he does it again. And again. And again.

(please be nice to me im literally so anxious LOLLL kms)

Sam comes to with a jolt. He's breathing heavily, like he'd just been running, but there's no danger. He's laying in a field, staring up at the sky, sunny and freckled with clouds. Perfect temperature. No flies or mosquitos. Songbirds twittering in the trees surrounding the grass.

His heart calms down after about thirty seconds of nothing. Tentatively, he plants his hands on the ground and heaves himself to his feet.

In front of him is a path, a dirt path spotted with stones and roots and patches of grass. He glances around, searching for clues; surely there had to be something going on. He had no memory of getting here, after all. No memory at all, actually, except for…

His face falls. Blood. No escape. No reprieve. That was the last thing in his head.

I'm dreaming, he decides. At least this was a nice dream, a comedown after a night of pain. With that in his head, he walks down the path, enjoying the summer day. He picks out a few memorable bird songs, eyes some grasshoppers crak-crak-ing across the field, and just…relaxes.

He walks through the field, then into a forest. More birds chirp and squirrels chatter. A chipmunk runs across his path, stops and eyes him, then approaches him. Childlike joy spreads across his face and he kneels to look closer at the animal, but doesn't dare to reach out for it. The chipmunk bobs its little head, blinking at him, getting barely a foot away from him, but when he shifts, it runs off, chittering as it leaves.

Smiling, Sam stands back up. But then his smile fades; any minute now, Dean and Dad are gonna yell for him to catch up so they can hunt the -

He freezes. Dean and Dad are here?

Then he realizes that this isn't just a dream, it's a memory. It all floods back to him, being a child hunting through the woods with his father and brother on the trail of some monster, how he got distracted by all the animals, his delight when a chipmunk took interest in him. He couldn't have been any older than eight or nine.

Bushes rustle ahead of him and he stands, preparing for John to start lecturing him about getting distracted and falling behind and aren't you taking this seriously, you know it's dangerous, but it's not John who walks out. No, Sam's never seen this man before in his life, but he approaches Sam with a kind of patient, rueful smile.

"Good, it didn't take me long to find you," he says. "I'm just naturally drawn to you. I can sense you, sort of, at least up here. Now, come on, I am not welcome around these parts."

"Uh…who are you?" Sam asks cautiously, stepping backwards, patting for a gun and finding nothing.

The man tilts his head. "You don't…? Ah, must be a side effect." He looks sad, regretful. "We know each other, Sam. I know you very well, in fact. I need you to come with me."

"Come with you where? Are you an angel? What do you want?" Sam asks, retreating further. Something about the man reverberates power in the same way angels did, but there was something different about him. Something…cold.

"I am," he says. "And I'm taking you back to Earth."

"Back to - but then - where -"

The man seizes his arm, and then everything turns to black.

****

Blood everywhere. Blood all over Sam's face, it's in his eyes, in his mouth. Blood on the floor around his head, blood on his hands. Its stink sits heavy in his nose and he coughs, exhaling as if that could push it out, and he heaves himself up to a sitting position. He holds a hand to his nose and touches wet, hot blood, but there's no pain. No pain at all, actually. Something slimy and wet is on his forehead and he flicks it off; it lands on the floor in front of him and it's pink and wrinkly and fleshy, almost like -

Sam grabs his head - his hair is matted with blood, but there are no wounds. Not even a scar. Nothing but the slimy bits of brain littering his scalp to indicate he'd ever been hurt. He wipes them off, his stomach churning.

For another moment, he remembers nothing, but then it comes back to him with the force of an oncoming train.

Lucifer.

Terror grips his heart. The fallen angel had just sat there on his bed after pretending to be Jess - fuck, he had held her and kissed her cheek and knowing it was Lucifer made him want to chew the skin of his lips off - and told him very straightforwardly that there was no way out. He would say yes. He will. It's inevitable.

"No," Sam says aloud, as if the angel is there in the empty motel room. "No, I won't."

There's a gun lying on the floor next to him. If he hadn't known before, he certainly knew now that he had just killed himself, that he had gone to heaven, that Lucifer had dragged him back. Just like he promised.

Was it easy, he wondered. Had it been a struggle, or was going to heaven as an angel just as simple as flying into the sky? Lucifer had said it didn't take him long to find him, that they were drawn to each other, sick sick sick, did that mean there was no escape?

Maybe if I run, if I get there and run as fast as I can. But how can I get myself to…?

Sam chews on his nails. I didn't remember Lucifer. But I remembered last night. Maybe if I wait another night, when I die, I'll remember him, and I'll remember to run.

With that grim vow in his head, he crawls into bed and tries to fall asleep, finally does sometime in the dead of night.

****

24 hours later. Sam had laid low, just gone to a grocery store to get some food and coffee, then sat in the motel room trying to think of what to do. How can I kill myself properly was such a darkly humorous idea that had suddenly become his goal. He can't just bring me back forever. I have to run somewhere he won't find me.

He decides to try a few experiments just in case he doesn't remember. In the dream, he had woken wearing the same clothing he'd died in, so he writes "RUN" on a piece of paper and stuffs it in his pocket. He does the same to another piece he plans to keep in his mouth. Just in case dead Sam doesn't remember Lucifer, he writes "DON'T TRUST THE BLOND MAN" on a third piece of paper.

Lastly, he screws a silencer onto the barrel of his gun; didn't want to alert other people in the motel, after all. It was a miracle nobody had moved his body the night before.

He pops the paper into his mouth, tries to get as little saliva on it as possible, then holds the gun to his head. His hand trembles and he thinks about Dean.

He fires.

****

Sam wakes up in a bedroom with a funny feeling in his mouth, but when he feels around with his tongue, there's nothing there. Must not've had enough water before bed.

"Sam! Time for school!" Dad yells from downstairs. Sam brightens and swings his legs out of bed; he liked this school. His teacher was really nice, he had a few friends, and he was getting really good grades. Every night he prayed that Dad would be okay just staying here forever.

Then he looks down; he didn't remember wearing jeans to bed.

Dream, he thinks. Then it comes back to him. Heaven. Lucifer.

Run.

In a flash, he's sprinting out of the room, down the hall, down the stairs, and outside of the house. The road he runs out onto stretches through the neighborhood, but then disappears into trees. He bolts towards them, his feet pounding on the concrete, and when he gets there, he nearly crashes into some huge redwoods.

Right, that time we were hunting a hide-behind in the state park, he remembers. But he doesn't let himself get lost in memories, just follows the path, running. Miraculously - but it does make sense - he doesn't get tired, so he just keeps running. On and on and on, deeper and deeper into the forest.

Just when he thinks he's made it, he's escaped, he's well and truly dead, he runs around a tree and smack into Lucifer, knocking them both over.

"There you are," Lucifer says from the ground, looking at Sam with an unbearable fondness. "You really tried to get away this time."

Sam scrambles away. "Get - get away from me, I'll never say yes to you," he spits out.

Lucifer sighs. "You will," he says. "And you need to be in your body for that. Now, come on."

Sam gets to his feet and bolts again, but he's only been running for a few seconds before Lucifer appears in front of him and grabs his wrist. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I have to do this," Lucifer says, and the world dissolves.

Sam's eyes shoot open and he sits up. His face is coated in blood and bits of skull and brain again, and he wipes it all off his nose and lips and eyelids and forehead. Dammit, he thinks, but he's determined. He will fucking make it happen. Maybe Lucifer will just get too tired of bringing him back, too annoyed, if it's too much of a hassle. Or maybe, just maybe, if he does enough damage to his body, Lucifer won't be able to shove his soul back into it.

This time, he aims the gun right above his pounding heart, waits a beat, and fires.

****

Brrring!

Jostled and bumped by other kids, Sam leaves school clutching his books to his chest. He's halfway to the school bus when he remembers that he's a grown adult and he's in heaven. He drops the books and bolts.

He runs down the street, turns a corner, runs down another, then the street fades into a gravel pathway through the woods. He keeps running, the gravel crunching under his shoes. The gravel path seems to stretch on for miles, so eventually he just turns to the left and starts bushwhacking through the forest, stepping over rocks and sticks, shoving his way through gaps in roots, avoiding prickly plants and poison oak, darting through the undergrowth.

Wings flutter. "Really, Sam?" Lucifer's there, mildly annoyed. "You know, it's not a piece of cake, getting to heaven. There are a lot of angels who really don't want me here."

"You won't have me," Sam says.

Lucifer just rolls his eyes and grabs Sam's arm, and they both fall into darkness.

****

"Look at you. What a mess."

Sam stirs, blinking. There's still blood on his face, and now it's completely soaked his shirt, gray stained with deep, thick red. The gun is gone. Blood has pooled around him on the floor.

A hand combs through his hair and strokes his jawline. "I told you I'd bring you back, Sam. That doesn't mean I wanted to."

Sam tries to get away, but there's an arm around his stomach holding him in place. It's…comforting, actually, he feels comfortable, and it's sickening. All of his instincts say to relax in Lucifer's arms, let him touch his face and hold him, and all of his instincts are wrong.

Lucifer's head rests on his, on his bloody hair. Chin, lips brush his head. This isn't a dream.

"How - how did you g-get here?" Sam croaks.

"You broke your ribs when you shot yourself," Lucifer says. "It broke that sigil Castiel put there. Don't worry, I recreated it, leaving myself out, of course. It was quite rude of him to keep me away from you, but we don't want company."

Sam's heart pumps new blood through his veins, old blood drying on him, sticky and lukewarm, and he itches to take his shirt off, but he can't move his arms very far. Lucifer adjusts his grip and - there's the gun, just off to the right.

"Let me go," he says, knowing Lucifer will refuse.

"You might try to hurt yourself again if I do," Lucifer says. "I can't let you. It breaks my heart, Sam. You'd really rather die - kill yourself - than be with me?"

He genuinely sounds sad, and it fills Sam with anger. "I'd kill myself a thousand times before I'd let you in," Sam snarls.

Lucifer doesn't respond for a while, just strokes his hair. Finally, he says, "It…wouldn't be how you think of it, Sam. You wouldn't be delegated to some tiny corner of your own head. I wouldn't dominate you, force you out, we'll be together inside of you. I'll let you see your brother and your friends, even let you out sometimes so you can talk to them as you. I'll give you everything you want, Sam. What else can I say?" He really truly sounds desperate, genuine pain in his voice.

Sam in- and exhales a deep breath. "No," he says. "Never."

Lucifer's grip had slackened in his little speech. In a flash, Sam reaches out, grabs the gun, aims at his own head, and pulls the trigger.

****

"Sam, this is getting ridiculous."

Sam blinks and rolls over, looking up. He was in bed, comfortable, cozy, with snow falling outside and Dean snoring in the room across from him. But Lucifer stands over him, arms crossed, not pleased.

"You're being quite selfish," Lucifer says. "Heaven drudges up an awful lot of bad memories for me. In case you've forgotten my tragic backstory, my Father and brother forced me into an isolation torture prison for millennia after said brother beat me in a fight. I'm not exactly thrilled to be here."

Sam sits up in bed and scoots away from Lucifer, staring at him. "How - how'd you get here so f -"

"I was with your soul when it departed," Lucifer says patiently. "I was able to follow it. Now, come on, can you promise you won't kill yourself again?"

"No. Just - just leave me here," Sam says, desperation leaking into his voice. "Just let me be dead. I should have died years ago, I should have died before anybody could die because of me. Just let me go. Let me stay here."

"I'm sorry, Sam, but I can only possess you if you're alive in your body," Lucifer says, sounding genuinely regretful. "I'll give you the peace you want, I promise, when we're together. I can create any world you want in your head for you to enjoy, if you want one. I could pull out your happiest memory, make a whole world just about it. Would you like that?"

Sam's stomach turns over; he didn't know one could feel nauseated in heaven. "I'll never be yours," he snaps.

Lucifer sighs and says, "Why don't we talk about this in a more tangible location." He touches Sam's face and the setting dissipates.

****

The whole room smells like blood. Sam raises a hand to wipe some off of his face but his hand is already sticky and red. Dried blood flakes off his wrist, his dry lips, his elbows. His head rests against something soft, and a hand is comfortably rubbing circles onto his hip, another running through his hair.

"You're so beautiful," Lucifer murmurs, enraptured. "Every time I heal you, I see it more and more."

Sam swallows.

"It hurts my feelings, really," Lucifer admits. "I don't know what else to offer you, Sam."

"Nothing," Sam says, his voice shot. "Nothing will get me to say yes to you." He looks around for his gun and doesn't see it. Maybe Lucifer took it away from him. "I told you, I'd kill myself a thousand times. This is my body. I decide what it does."

"It's our body," Lucifer corrects him gently. "You were made for me, just as I was made for you. You were holding onto it for me - for us - and I certainly appreciate how you've taken care of it. But…it's fate, Sam. You're going to say yes to me. Right now we're just counting down the minutes."

Sam's eyes dart around, still looking for the gun. But he has one other option, if he can't find it. "I won't," is all he can say.

"You will. The sooner you accept that, and the sooner you stop killing yourself, the sooner we can just move on from this whole mess," Lucifer says. "Please, Sam. I have a heart now, and you're breaking it. Just let me take care of you, or this will never end."

Sam wipes some blood that threatened to drip into his eyes. "Then it'll never end," he says, and shoves his pocketknife into his neck.

****

"Come on, you and Dad drink it, let me try," Sam urges.

Dean, eighteen and finally looking it, wiggles the beer bottle just out of reach. It's a bright sunny day and they're sitting on a few beach towels halfway up a sand dune. "No way, Sammy, Dad'll kill me if he finds out I let you drink. You're underage."

"So are you!"

"Only by three years. And hey, I can vote and buy cigarettes and join the army, I should be able to drink, too," Dean says, and drinks from the bottle. "You know?"

Sam folds his arms. "Well, if you're not gonna let me try it, can you at least not drink in front of me?"

Dean opens his mouth, then closes it, looking sly. "You know what? You can have it. But," he adds at Sam's victorious expression, "you have to drink the whole thing."

Sam scoffs; he's seen Dean and Dad knock back half a bottle at once before, and Dean didn't even tell him to chug it, he can totally drink the whole thing. Dean hands him the bottle and he takes an eager swig - and chokes.

"Yuck!" Sam gags, spitting. "That's gross! How can you drink that stuff?"

"Hey, what'd I tell you? You have to drink the whole bottle," says Dean, snickering. "That's the rule."

"But it's disgusting!"

"I knew you'd hate it, that's why I didn't give it to you," Dean says with a grin. "Finish the bottle, party animal. But, uh, if Dad asks, I did not give it to you."

Sam shoots Dean a scowl, then takes another drink of the beer and sticks his tongue out. "I'm gonna tell Dad you told me to drink the whole bottle."

"Then I'll tell Dad about that magazine you think I don't know about."

Sam's eyes go wide and he turns beet red. "B - y - th - but - the - you - no, no, no, you can't -"

"Whoa, relax, relax, I'm kidding," Dean says quickly, holding up his hands. "It's fine, I was checkin' out Playboy when I was fourteen. But, uh. Look, it's fine by me if you swing that way. Nothing wrong with it. And I really don't think Dad would care, either, he had a buddy in the army who was kind of a fruit, he told me."

Sam stares at him, relief flooding him from head to toe. "You - you really don't care that I…"

Dean shakes his head. "Nope. S' not like it's hurting anyone." He reaches out and ruffles Sam's hair. "But I'd, uh, keep it quiet outside of the two of us, you know? Lotta folks aren't cool about that sort of thing."

Sam nods firmly. "I know. I haven't told anyone," he says, and smiles. "Thanks, Dean."

"Yup. Gimme that." Dean snatches the beer bottle from Sam's hand and takes a long drink, then hands it back to him. "Rest is for you. You wanna swim?"

"Yeah!"

They take off their shirts and run down the steep sand dune, nearly falling on top of each other, and run right into the ocean. It's colder than they thought and both boys are immediately complaining about the temperature. Dean shoves Sam's head under for a few seconds, so when Sam resurfaces, gasping, he splashes a ton of water at Dean, who yelps and splashes Sam right back. After a minute, Sam heads back to shore, giving Dean the finger when he calls him a pussy, and begins the climb back up the sand dune.

Up at the top, Sam is hot again, and he flops down onto the beach towel, dripping water everywhere. He dries off his hands and grabs for his backpack, searching for a book, but -

Why do his hands look so weird? They look…old.

"Are you having fun?"

Sam jolts and turns around. In a heartbeat, he's twenty-five, not fourteen, and he recognizes the man who sits down next to him.

"I can do this, you know," Lucifer says, gesturing at the beach. "I can let you live in your best memories when we're in your body together. I didn't realize your brother accepting you was such a big moment…but it makes sense."

Sam is silent - mad at Lucifer, hating how his angel can just watch his memories like this, but also…

He wiggles his toes in the sand. It feels so real.

"I would have this, with you?" he asks.

Lucifer's eyes brighten. "You could live through any memory for as long as you want, Sam," he promises. "You can relive any happy moment. I could make new ones, too. You could live in them and forget about everything else."

Sam thinks about blood and pain and Dean's disappointed face and the death and destruction he had brought - Lucifer had brought. He thinks about this day at the beach, so many years ago now. He thinks about every other moment in his life he loved. He thinks, guiltily, that it really would be nice to just…forget. Forget about all of it. Lose himself in this.

"Can I take you back now?" Lucifer asks gently. "Can we talk?"

Sam nods, and the beach fades.

****

The stink of blood seems to have permanently lodged itself in Sam's nose. It's all he can smell. He moves his hand and touches a pool of the stuff. He remembers, in flickers, drinking his own blood when he was at his most desperate. Wonders how it tastes now.

Lucifer holds him, cradles him. "I cleaned you up this time," he says, brushing hair out of Sam's face; indeed, it's no longer matted with blood. "I wanted to see your face. I want to see you smile again, like you did in that memory."

Sam's mouth is a straight line. He's sure his pocket knife is gone along with the gun.

"I have one more thing to show you," Lucifer says, stroking Sam's jaw, down to his neck, hovering over his chest. "I can give this to you, too."

Sam gasps - this was brand new. Sheer ecstasy, sheer bliss, runs through every vein and artery, lighting up his body. He feels like he's floating, powerful jolts of concentrated joy sending currents up and down his limbs, culminating in the pit of his stomach, like - fuck. He flushes, suddenly hot, suddenly very very turned on, squirming as the feeling settles deep within, as Lucifer's touch turns him inside out.

It feels like it's over as soon as it begins, and he's left panting in Lucifer's lap, hoping and praying he isn't hard. Lucifer is still touching his hair, touching his face, hand on his chest straying down to his stomach, pushing up his shirt, touching his hot skin. "It can all be yours," Lucifer murmurs. "I could give you this whenever you want."

It's getting harder and harder to keep saying no. The promise of relief, of solace, of pleasure, it's overwhelming. Sam arches his back, craning for - something, wanting something.

"That's it, Sam," says Lucifer softly. "Put an end to this. Say yes to me."

Sam remembers why he killed himself in the first place.

He remembers how he got here.

He remembers that first meeting, all of Lucifer's poison.

He touches the blood on the ground.

"No," he says. "Always no. Always."

Lucifer's hands on him clench, then ease. "We'll see about that," he says quietly, sadly, and presses a kiss to Sam's forehead. Then, with the flap of giant wings, he's gone.

Sam exhales. Finally alone. And there - his gun, his pocket knife, all just out of reach from where Lucifer had been holding him.

He picks them up, looks between them. He could do it. He could do it again. Again and again and again. And Lucifer would bring him back every single time.

There was no way out.

-------------------------

if u enjoyed this give it a like and/or a rb tysm <3333

[taytrashmouth]

The summer I’ve waited for

Jeremiah fisher x female reader

TW: drinking, swearing.

Description: you’ve been friends with Jeremiah forever, back in Boston you are inseparable, what happens when he invites you to cousins this summer

———————————————————————

You met Jeremiah at school when you were 12, he’s always been funny and kind, he was nice to you when no one else was.

You were best friends since the first moment you met, the only thing that sucked was that he was never around for summer.

But this year, at 16 he invited you with, Susannah was so happy you were coming with, Belly would have a girlfriend and she loved you like her own.

The drive down to cousins was long, Conrad drove, Susannah scrolled through her phone in the passengers seat while you sat in the back with Jeremiah.

Your leg was bouncing up and down rapidly, what if it was awkward, what if belly didn’t like you, what if you ruined the perfect summers Jeremiah spoke of so often-

Your thoughts were broken when jere put his hand on your bouncing leg.

“Hey what’s wrong?” He frowned.

“Just nervous.” You shook your head.

“It’ll be so fun having you around, and I already know belly will love you, besides you’ll have me by your side, you’re stuck with me for three whole months.”

You couldn’t help but smile, he had no idea how much you liked him, he was the only boy you’d liked for 5 years. Spending 3 months with him sounded like heaven.

When you arrived Jeremiah showed you your room, right across from his. The house was gorgeous and the sound of the waves was magical.

You sat outside by the pool looking out at the ocean once you’d unpacked. Absolutely mesmerized.

It wasn’t until you saw Conrad, Jeremiah and Steven (you’d seen him in photos) throwing belly into the pool while she kicked and screamed.

“You guys that wasn’t funny.” Belly spoke.

“Yeah guys not cool.” You walked behind both Conrad and Jeremiah, hands around their waists. As they both turned to look at you, you pushed as hard as you could pushing them both in too.

They both yelled and you and belly laughed.

“I love her!” Belly laughed and smiled at Jeremiah, gesturing to you.

“Yeah me too.” He smiled subtly and looked down at the water, making you blush.

It was a few days later that you sat at the kitchen island waiting to watch a movie with belly and the moms that belly said something that surprised you.

“You know I’m so happy i finally got to meet you cause you’re like really cool, and because jere talks about you non-stop, he thinks you’re so smart and he tells us all these stories about you being like the coolest person.” Belly rambled.

“All good things I hope.” You chuckled, blushing slightly. “ I’m sure he doesn’t talk about me that much.”

“No there was a point I wanted to be you, and I hadn’t even seen your photo- I was like 12 but still”

You both giggled.

Summer went on, you went to parties with jere and he taught you how to play beer pong, you both sang karaoke at this tiki bar on Saturdays, he showed you all of his favorite spots in cousins. Late night drives and long walks on the beach.

Everything was perfect except you couldn’t help but feel that he loved belly…..and it hurt.

But there were moments where you allowed yourself to dream, to feel as though he liked you back.

The night by the pool when lover came on the speaker and you smiled at the sound of your favorite song.

“Let’s dance.” Jeremiah spoke. You looked up at him as he stood up and held out his hand. “You need to practice anyway.” Referring to the deb ball, belly begged you to do it with her.

You didn’t know how the hell to find a date, you only liked, and wanted one guy.

You smiled and gave him your hand. He pulled you up and held your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and you began to sway. He spun you around slowly once or twice but soon it was just the two of you in this moment, looking into each others eyes.

“You’re a good dancer.” You whispered.

“I have a good partner.” He smiled, both of your cheeks burning.

Then there was the day you tried on your debutante dress, you looked in your bedroom mirror, only seeing the parts of yourself you hated.

That’s when Jere barged in with a smile, rambling about something Steven just did, but when you turned around he stopped dead.

“Holy shit…” he let out.

“I know-“ your voice was laced with insecurities but he didn’t let you fished before moving closer and making you spin around.

“You’re perfect.” He smiled and held your cheeks, you leaned into his touch wishing this moment would last.

Tears filled your eyes, he was healing all your wounds, damage he didn’t even cause.

“Thank you.” You smiled back.

When Taylor came out for belly’s birthday she bought belly a purple swimsuit, she had a pink one and she had bought you a dark blue one, because she knew belly liked you, and wanted you to be included.

You were insecure, people at school had bullied you your whole life, your weight fluctuated a lot and you weren’t exactly comfortable in a bikini.

When you didn’t go down to the pool after about 20mins jere came to look for you…

He found you in your bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror in your new bikini with tears running down your cheeks

“Hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” He asked with a frown, immediately pulled you into his chest.

You hugged him tightly and he stroked your hair.

“I hate it.” You chocked.

“What? What do you hate?” He held your shoulders looking at your face now.

“Me, they way I look, fuck, I look like a whale compared to them.”

Jeremiah almost laughed.

“Them? Belly and taylor?”

“Yeah and like every other girl at this stupid beach.” You cried more, but he wiped away the tears that fell.

“Turn around.” He smiled, you grumpily spun.

“Exactly what I thought, no sign of a whale…and y/n….you’re hot, don’t tell belly or Taylor I said this but you’re like way hotter than them.” He exclaimed.

You chocked a laugh.

“Really?” You frowned again.

“Definitely.” He hugged you again, and made jokes as you washed your face before following him back to the pool.

“I found her!!! She was trying to make sure she was still hotter than all of us.” He joked as you walked out the doors to the pool.

Taylor smiled, “I knew that bikini was your color, it’s literally so hot.” Belly nodded in agreement.

Steven gawked at you as you climbed into the pool and belly hit him on the head.

It wasn’t until you were walking along the beach as the sun set, a week till the deb ball and still you had no date.

“Hey!” Jeremiah called as he ran down the beach to catch up.

“Hey.” You smiled back.

You talked about a lot of things as the sun began to set.

“Still no date?” He asked.

You shook your head,

“Seriously? I don’t believe no one’s asked you.” He spoke as if you were the most precious thing that any guy would want.

You shook your head again, a few guys had asked, but you didn’t really want to go with them. So you told them no.

You continued to talk about the ball.

“Mom told Conrad to ask Belly, but I think she’ll be pissed if she finds out he didn’t actually want to ask her you know?” He spoke.

“Yeah, I’d be pissed if that happened to me.”

“That’s why I swore off these things, drama creating nonsense, I’d only make an exception for this one girl-“ he spoke slowly but you cut him off.

“Yeah, it sucks that Conrad’s taking her-“

“What?” He stopped walking.

“You like belly….don’t you?” You frowned.

He scoffed and looked off to the side.

“You’re really really dumb for someone with straight A’s, you know that?” He asked.

You frowned even more.

“I’d make an exception for you n/n….”

Your whole world stopped for a minute, looking into his ocean eyes.

“I’m just waiting for you to ask me……” he looked at his feet.

“I didn’t ask because I needed to know you wanted this, I couldn’t do it because i could never forgive myself if I screwed this up, us…” he looked back up at you.

Your heart was pounding, your head was exploding and your stomach erupted with butterflies.

“Will you go to the ball with me Jere?” You smiled.

He sighed with relief and smiled the biggest you e ever seen.

“Fuck yes!!!!” He wrapped his arms around you and spun you in the air before putting you down.

You laughed, feeling on top of the world.

“You sure about this?” He asked looking down at you.

“It’s been five years of crushing, I’m sure.” You joked.

“Good because I really want to kiss you.” He smiled.

He leaned in and your lips met, it was like two pieces of a puzzle. So passionate yet soft. This was the summer you’d always wanted, the summer you waited for.

As you broke apart for air you both smiled and entangled your hands, and you walked home in the dark, waves crashing against your ankles.

“I liked you before we were even friends you know.” Jeremiah spoke up.

“What?”

“Yeah, I saw you in the hallway one day and I knew, that the pretty girl by locker 34 was going to be my wife one day.”

You smiled, and laughed with him, as you swing your hands back and forth.

“Really? I still had braces….why me?” You asked with a frown.

“Because I love you, you idiot!” He yelled, he turned and kissed you for the second time that night. You smiled into the kiss, and the waves crashed into your calves.

“I love you too…I always have.” You told him. “And I’m not sure about ‘wife’ just yet, but I’m just waiting for you to ask me..” you quoted his words from earlier.

He smiled and got down on one knee, his shorts were wet and your dress was blowing in the wind. You threw your head back in a smile.

“Y/n l/n, will you make me the happiest golden retriever and be my girlfriend,”

“Fuck yes!!!!”

He got up and you held onto each other like it was the last time you’d hug.

When you arrived back at the house, he dragged you up to his room, rummaging in his drawer to find something.

“I uh- I got this for your birthday last year, but I chickened out of giving it to you because I though it might overstep a boundary or something.” He explained as he sat next to you on his bed and handed you a box.

You carefully took off the lid and revealed a sliver locket, the letter J engraved on the front, you opened it up and on the left was a picture on Jeremiah giving you a piggy back ride, both of you smiling so widely. And on the right the lyrics ‘at every table I’ll save you a seat’ were engraved in cursive.

You closed the locket and stared at the J, then at him, tears in your eyes.

“Because I really know you.” He pointed at his initial.

You smiled, tears falling.

“I love you, you’re perfect.” You smiled, looking at his beautiful eyes, and smile, thinking of how thoughtful he was, how kind, how funny, he was yours, and you were his.

He helped you out the necklace on, and you never took it off

[katstarry]

anything

eddie munson x reader

masterlist ☆

summary: moments shared with eddie throughout your friendship, up until his death.

warnings: ANGST! 😱 mentions of death.

guys i haven’t written in a while and this song has been on repeat this week so this is just something i had an idea of so i’m sorry if it sucks!!! hope u enjoy :)

feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆

inspired by anything by adrianne lenker!

it was a summer day and you had just graduated high school.

the day was sunny and hot—a perfect day for going to the local pool.

eddie and you agreed to meet there, it was his idea, wanting to spend some time with you after the ceremony before you had to celebrate with your family.

this would be his second time not graduating.

“eddie don’t beat yourself up over this, i’m sure that next year you’ll be walking that stage. and i’ll be there cheering you on.”

as you both make your way to the pool entrance, he looks over with you with an eyebrow raised.

“don’t give me that look! i mean it.” you give him a playful shove.

“mrs. o’donnell is always on my ass, i doubt that’ll change next year,” he sighed, “plus, it’ll be less fun without you there.”

he wraps an arm over your shoulders as you both make your way to a pair of empty chairs, settling your belongings down onto them.

you had brought some sliced fruit, drinks, sunscreen, and of course a towel.

“y’know i’m not going anywhere anytime soon, we can still see each other as much as we want this summer.” you finish putting down your things and sit on the edge of the chair, applying on sunscreen.

you look over at eddie who’s on his own chair beside your own, “yeah, but what if you change your mind about staying in hawkins? you should be doing bigger things than staying in this dump.”

he looks away from you and leans his head back onto the chair, playing with a strand of hair.

meanwhile, you open the container you had brought with the sliced fruit, eat a piece of apple, and pass the container to eddie. the thought of leaving hawkins was constant, who wouldn’t want to leave after seeing the things that you’ve seen? yet you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, one of the reasons being right beside you.

“i’ll just study here at the community college, see where that takes me. then, who knows what’ll happen?”

leaning back onto your own chair, you look over at eddie. his hair has begun to stick onto his skin from the heat, his loose shirt slightly slipping from his shoulder, the sunlight shining just right, enough for him to look as if he’s glowing.

he turns to look at you, smiling, “you’ll be out in some big city, doing whatever the hell you want! maybe we could even be roommates, like we’ve talked about.”

he grabs a piece of mango and takes a bite, excess juice dripping.

you smile, “yeah that’d be really nice. but for right now, i’m happy where i’m at.”

that year during the end of summer and towards the end of fall, you had your first boyfriend.

the relationship was not super long, and it never felt like there was much progress. he’d take you out to dates, he’d do everything right.

yet there was no true connection. it’s something you realize after the break up. you’d call each other—but no conversation ever had much depth.

but, when you were both together physically, you felt comfortable, you felt wanted. the cuddling, the kissing, you loved all of the relationship related things, and it made you believe you did love him.

it came crashing down when you saw him out with another girl, you were walking out a local coffee shop with robin when you spotted him. his arm linked with hers, no shame as he leaned over to kiss her, smiling.

it’s what lead you breaking down later that day in eddie’s trailer.

you had planned hanging out with him anyways. your now ex knew about your close friendship with eddie and he never seemed to really care. you realize that he never really cared about many things.

trying to act casual after your discovery and confrontation, you should’ve known better. eddie could see right through your act. be it the way you seemed less talkative, less enthusiastic, he knew something was up. he somehow always does.

he was telling a joke, trying to make you feel better—and you love his jokes, even if they’re the cringiest or stupidest ever, you always laugh or make some sarcastic remark—when he finishes telling his joke, you laughed, which made him smile.

both sitting on the couch, he laid his arm behind where you sat, pulling one of his legs up and turning to face you.

“sooo.. you wanna talk about it?”

you turn to him, your face written with confusion, “talk about what?”

“something’s obviously bothering you. and iiii do not like that.” he tilted his head, softly smiling.

“ah, how did you know?” you give him a small smile and look up to his ceiling, letting your head hit the cushions of the couch.

you see him shrug his shoulders from the corner of your eye, “i just know.”

the tears start to form before you even register it happening, and you tell him what happened.

and he’s there, like he always is. he holds you, let’s you cry to him about your ex. not knowing how much he hurts seeing you like this over a douchebag who didn’t deserve you to begin with.

he rubs your back, attempting to calm you down. you hadn’t realized you were clinging onto him, you pull back and just opt to laying your head onto his shoulder, a few start tears falling. he wipes them away and you close your eyes, feeling his hands soothe you.

that’s when you knew.

it all happened too quick, so suddenly.

one moment you were at the basket ball game, cheering lucas on.

the next eddie was on the run for supposed murder.

and now he was laying in front of you, on the ground.

dustin was kneeled with you, but the ringing in your ears blocking everything else out. all you could see was blood and all you could hear was your ragged breathing.

soon, your vision became blurry, tears clouding your vision. in one quick moment, you were back to the present. a shout. someone was yelling, you look in front of you and you see dustin crying, eddie on his lap.

you reach for eddie’s hand, intertwining it with your own, the other wiping tears away from his face. it was now your turn to wipe away his tears, but you would’ve preferred it to be over some girl, rather than it be because of what’s to come.

his hand is already startling cold, yet you still feel him tighten his hold on you.

“eddie, you gotta keep breathing alright? we’re gonna get you out of here. dustin! we have to get him out of here!” you look over at dustin, who heard you and you both move to get up, but eddie stops you both.

“no. no—” he momentarily chokes on his own blood that gathered in his mouth. he doesn’t let go of your hand and grabs dustin’s before he could get up.

“what do you mean no?!” you cry, moving to get up again.

“s-stop! there’s no,” he gulps, “no way i’ll be able to—” he coughs, blood splattering as he does so, you use the sleeve of your shirt to shakily clean his chin, “make it.”

he looks at you, and that’s when you see. that’s when you see he’s not changing his mind, he’s not going to let you and dustin pull him back.

a part of you knows, the logical part of you, that he won’t be able to make it. that it’ll be too late by the time you pull him back home.

so you cry, you cling to him. dustin cradles eddie’s head on his lap once again, you both cling to him.

“please. please don’t.” you say between sobs, your head on his chest, his heart beat still present, your hand still in his.

he doesn’t reply, he can’t. blood blocks him from saying anything else, so he brings your intertwined hands shakily up to his lips, kissing your hand. you bring your head up to look at him, and that’s when you knew.

that’s when you knew, everything was reciprocated. you don’t know how, but you did.

you both just know each other too well, but apparently not this.

he looked at you and attempted to smile, the three of you crying. already grieving what’s to come and what could’ve been.

you shake your head, “this isn’t fair! you never should’ve been a part of any of this mess! i—i tried so hard, so hard to keep you away from all of this. but it wasn’t enough.”

laying your head back onto his chest, you feel his free hand move to your back. the familiar feeling of him soothing you, rubbing your back, making you cry harder.

then suddenly, it all stopped.

it’s like time stopped all at once.

the movements on your back were gone, the soft heartbeat had stopped.

you could’ve sworn that in that moment, yours had too.

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #34 (part one)

previous // next // story index

__________

Yuri

Apparently I’m going on a camping trip.

Let me state right now, I’m terrified and I have no idea what possessed me to agree to it.

No, that’s not true. I do know exactly why I said I’d do it. It was a knee-jerk reaction to being frustrated and angry, which is never a good reason to agree to anything, and of course I’m just obstinate enough to refuse to take back what I said. So, like it or not, I’m going camping.

I’ve never slept outside in my entire life, unless you count summer afternoon naps on the padded bench swing on my parents’ terrace. It’s difficult to imagine myself sleeping on the ground, and in the forest, no less. I like forests well enough and I’ve spent plenty of time on the walking trails around Arashiyama, but those are tended regularly and clearly marked, and I rarely go there at night. It’ll be a whole different story when we’re intentionally sleeping and eating and bathing in the middle of nowhere, kilometers away from civilization and electricity and possibly even running water.

Then there’s the wildlife. I can’t begin to describe how afraid I am of the possibility of snakes, wolves or bears coming near our campsite. I’m not looking forward to the probability of a million insects everywhere either.

The other thing I’m worried about is what I’m going to eat. According to what Victor was telling his mother this evening at dinner, he seems to think we’ll be living on tinned soup and beans, instant coffee, potato chips, hot dogs and marshmallows. He knows I can’t eat any of that, and in a town like this I doubt we’ll be able to find rice bread, tofu hot dogs or oven-baked potato crisps. I guess I’ll have to get used to protein bars and Gatorade, because those are the only things I can think of that are readily available, non-perishable, and safe for me to consume.

I’m also concerned about how I’ll cope for three days and two nights with Victor’s friends. Truthfully, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about them. We’ve talked in video chats several times since Victor and I have been together and they seem like good and kind people, but as Victor and I both know well, even the closest online relationship doesn’t prepare you fully for being with somebody in person. To say the least, I find Ellie and Leo overwhelming.

Leo is lovable but gives the impression of being somewhat dumb. I don’t think he’s really stupid, and my guess is that it’s more likely he’s a deliberate underachiever like my friends Seiji and Takahiro. My observation is that living comfortably at home and not having any major responsibilities to speak of seems to produce that result, particularly in men our age. I’d probably be that way too, if I’d stayed with my parents.

Unlike Seiji and Taka, both Ellie and Leo have post-secondary education and have real jobs. Ellie is a nurse and she currently works on the critical care unit of the local hospital. Leo is an early childhood educator, which I’ve learned is more than a glorified child-minder. He works at a preschool with children who are three and four years old, and along with the usual organizing of games, songs, naps and snacks, he helps to teach them academic things like colours, numbers and the alphabet. He also teaches them basic skills like how to tie their shoes or put away their toys. By all accounts, he loves his job. It seems like a perfect fit for somebody as upbeat and high-energy as him.

My biggest issue with Leo is how loud he is, and how he calls me ’little guy’ and talks down to me as if I’m one if his students. Regardless of having explained to him that I’m fluent in English and that I’m capable of understanding everything he says, he persists in enunciating in the annoyingly exaggerated way that people often use when speaking to people with intellectual disabilities or elders who are slightly deaf.

As for Ellie, I’m torn by what to think of her. I don’t appreciate how she constantly touches Victor. She’s always hugging him or putting a hand on his arm or shoulder or back, and the worst part is, I think he likes it. Last night when she was visiting, she had the audacity to steal my spot on the sofa while I was in the washroom, and when I came back, she was lying there with her head on his leg. Evidently, he hadn’t bothered to tell her I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that. I wanted to scream and I don’t know how I restrained myself.

One thing I do know is that she’s absolutely not staying in the same tent as him when we go camping. Or if all four of us sleep in the same tent, there’s no way I’m going to let her sleep next to Victor, even if that means he gets stuck between me and Leo. If she were next to him, I’d probably wake up in the morning and find her completely wrapped around him or something. I’m sorry, but that’s my position. I definitely would scream if that happened.

Despite her obvious inability to keep her hands off my husband, I can’t say Ellie is all bad. She’s loud and hyperactive like Victor and Leo, but she’s genuinely friendly and she did make an effort to respect my physical boundaries last night when she was over. I’ll give her credit for that, even if it was a little awkward.

Victor must’ve warned her not to touch me without asking, because after looking me up and down for a second, she gazed into my face and said, “So, how do I greet you? Like, do you feel comfortable shaking hands with people?”

I held out my hand to her. “Yes, I can manage that.”

She took my hand like it was made of glass, and when our brief handshake concluded, she asked nervously. “Was that good for you?”

Behind me, Victor made an undignified snorting sound in his effort not to laugh. “Uh… you know how inappropriate that sounded, right?”

Ellie immediately blushed and mumbled, “Sorry. But how else am I supposed to check whether or not I touched him the way he likes?”

“Stop, Ellie,” Victor said. “You’re making it worse.”

“It’s okay,“ I said. "Your handshake was fine, and it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Same,” she said. “You’re a lot cuter in person than you are on FaceTime. Leo was totally right.”

At that, it was my turn to blush. “Why does everyone keep saying I’m cute?”

“Because you are,” Victor said.

“Why can’t I be handsome or gorgeous?”

Victor slipped his arms around me and hugged me from behind. “You’re an elegant gentleman, Yuri Okamoto-Nelson,” he said. “How about that?”

“Better,” I said. “But say it like you’re not just teasing me next time.”

He laughed. “You know what? Saying stuff like that with that adorable fake pout is exactly why you’re cute.”

I grumbled about it, but I had to concede the point. I’m too small and too baby-faced to be handsome by conventional standards. I’ll confess I like to think of myself as pretty, but since that’s not a description typically applied to men, I suppose I’ll have to settle for being cute.

Our initial failure of social coordination aside, we had a mostly good evening. Victor found a recipe online for homemade ice cream using almond milk, so I was able to participate fully in ice cream and movie night. Victor taught me how to use the ice cream maker, which turned out to be really easy, and which left me feeling proud of myself for the accomplishment of making a treat for everyone to enjoy. Now that I know it’s possible to create ice cream I can eat without self-medicating first, I really want to get our own ice cream machine once we’re back home.

Victor and Ellie agreed that I could choose the movie. I think Victor thought I’d pick a historical romance because he knows I’m really into those, but I went for something else. I found one called The Road Home about the adventures of a lost dog trying to get back to her family.

It was a sweet movie, but it was also unexpectedly emotional. It didn’t surprise me that Victor was teary-eyed by the last scene when the little dog reunited with her family, but I was shocked that Ellie was crying as well. Happy endings don’t usually make me tear up, but I was thinking about Sango, and I may have had a lump in my throat at the end.

After the film, Victor invited Ellie to spend the night and she accepted, and that’s when our good evening began to go downhill.

It was like Victor and Ellie both saw their sleepover as a completely normal occurrence, and I got the sense that in the past, standard operating procedure would have been for them both to sleep in the same bed. Honestly, I think they thought all three of us were going to share the bed, because Victor casually said, “I guess I’d better be in the middle.”

“Excuse me,” I said pointedly. “I’m in the middle. Between you and Sango.”

“Are things about to get weird?” Ellie looked somewhat perplexed. “Like, did I just get kicked out of bed before I even got in?”

Victor scratched his cheek, seeming just as confused as his friend. “Yuri, Ellie’s not going to touch you, and she and I already know from experience that this bed’s big enough for three people, so…”

“Her touching me isn't the issue,” I said. "It's her touching you."

“Uh…” Victor began.

“It’s cool,” Ellie said. “I can sleep on the floor. You’ve got a sleeping bag, don’t you, Victor?”

“Yeah,” he said. “My old one’s in the closet.”

“Maybe you can get that out for me,” she said. “Yuri, would you be okay with me staying here in the room, at least?”

I wasn’t, but it seemed uncharitable to say so. I went with, “That’s fine.”

I’m not sure I have the right words to describe what happened after that. Victor fetched his sleeping bag from the closet, and we all settled in; Victor and I in the bed, and Ellie on the floor. I was tired and I wanted to sleep, but it was fairly clear that neither Victor nor Ellie was sleepy. They spoke quietly, but it was still too much for me.

I pretended to be asleep, although I doubt Victor was convinced.

I don’t know how long he and Ellie chatted. They talked about everything, including a discussion of the upcoming camping trip that I hadn’t as yet been consulted about, and a lengthy stroll down memory lane to revisit several past camping misadventures.

Eventually, they wound down and both of them fell asleep. I was exhausted beyond the point of drifting off easily by then, and I was starting to feel an all-too-familiar cramping in my belly, so it took me much longer to find my way to slumber.

In the morning, I was displeased to find that exactly opposite of my wishes, Ellie was in our bed. She was sprawled half on top of Victor, and one of her hands was very close to somewhere if definitely shouldn’t have been. I poked Victor, trying to wake him. He rolled toward me, dislodging our bed invader in the process.

“What…?” he said sleepily.

“Your friend isn’t on the floor any more,” I said.

I glared at him, but all he offered was, “Don’t look at me like that. I just noticed too.”

I did my best to pull the blankets over my head. “Go away and leave me alone. Both of you.”

He patted my shoulder through the blanket. “I’ll take Sango out for you.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

Victor and Ellie both got out of bed, and as they were leaving the room, I heard him say to her. “Don’t mind Yuri. He’s not a morning person.”

By the time I got up, Ellie was gone. I found Victor in the living room, doing something on his iPad. He looked like he was deep in concentration, but glanced up from the device when I sat down next to him.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m glad you finally decided to make an appearance. You want to hear about what we’re thinking of doing this afternoon?”

“Why would I care what you, Leo and Ellie are doing this afternoon?”

“Because you're invited," he said. "Y'know, just like yesterday?"

"Right, because I'm sure I would've fit in so well with you yesterday."

"Okay, so soccer and bike racing aren't your thing. I get it," he said. "But how would you feel about going to the museum? It’s not the most elaborate collection, but is says on their website that they’ve got an exhibit on ancient musical instruments right now, and there’s always interesting stuff about the history of Maple Grove and Edenvale.”

“No thank you,” I said.

“Why not? You like history, and the museum’s nice and quiet. We were thinking about going to the municipal pool afterward. You could show off your swimming skills.”

“I don’t feel like going to the pool.”

I did want to go to the museum, but I would rather have viewed it with Victor, minus his entourage. I’m not sure what I’d expected when we left home to come here for a visit, but I’m certain spending every available hour with Victor’s friends wasn’t it. I’d been hoping the two of us would do things together, that he’d show me places around town that were important to him, and that he’d introduce me to what mattered most to him about his hometown.

Then again, maybe that’s what he thought he was doing. Perhaps the most important thing about Maple Grove wasn’t Maple Grove itself, but the people that were in it. And I was uncomfortable with them.

Victor sighed. “Okay. I guess the museum is off the table. Is there anything you want to do, or should I just assume you’re going to spend the next two weeks watching TV and reading in bed?”

“I want to spend time with you,” I told him.

“You could do that, if you’d agree to anything I’m asking you to do with me,” he said, sounding annoyed.

“With you,” I repeated. “I want to spend time with you.”

“You don’t want me to be with my friends. Is that it?”

“No, that’s not what I said. You can be with your friends, but it’d be nice if you could pay attention to me.”

“What do you think the museum idea was about?” he demanded. “You think Leo and Ellie are into that? We were trying to think of something you’d like, so we could all do stuff together and so you could get to know them better, but I guess you’re not interested in knowing them, are you? I was going to suggest that you should come up to the North Range and camp with us this weekend, but you probably don’t want to do that either.”

“Fine,” I said. “If you’re telling me the only way to be with you right now is to be with your friends as well, I’ll go to the North Range.”

“Try not to make it sound like a chore.”

I bit back the sharp reply that was on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. I released the air as slowly and quietly as I could. "I didn’t mean to,” I said. “I’ll go camping with you. I’ve never been camping before, but I can learn.”

“Nobody’s forcing you, so don’t feel obligated.“

"I’ll go,” I said.

He shrugged. “Okay. Whatever.”

Don’t make it sound like taking me with you is a chore, is how I wanted to respond, but what I said was, “Do you actually want me to go with you?”

He looked offended. “Yeah, I do. Why else would I have asked? But if you’re only doing it because you think it’s what I want…” He trailed off, shrugging again. “No, never mind. Let’s just try to make the best of it, all right? I’ll look out for you. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

“Who knows? You might even find something to like about it.” With that, he set his iPad down and stood up. “Mom left me a list of chores, so I’m going to get going with that. Once you’re dressed, come outside and join me if you feel like it.”

I did not go outside, other than to take Sango for a walk. I passed a significant part of the day working because, unlike Victor, I’m not on administrative leave from my job. Luckily, I almost always work remotely, so as long as I meet my deadlines it usually doesn’t matter where I am. I filled up the rest of my day playing with Sango and reading.

I didn’t see much of Victor all day, even though he didn’t go anywhere. He was busy raking leaves and doing other yard maintenance while his mother was at work, and I think he went for a bike ride at some point. His friends didn’t show up in the afternoon. I have no idea what he might’ve told them, and frankly I didn’t care to know.

When Dr. Grace got home, she cooked a meal of tarragon seasoned chicken, rice and steamed carrots. I ate as much as I could, and I was sorry when I had to tell her that I wasn’t feeling the best and couldn’t finish everything on my plate. I hated disappointing her, particularly because she made the effort to prepare something I like, but there was nothing to be done for it.

Victor and I barely spoke to each other during dinner, but he was his typical chatty self with his mother. He told her that he and his friends were thinking of taking a drive to nearby Edenvale for mini golf and amusement park rides. I hadn’t even been invited to that, so I guessed he’d given up hope that I’d say yes to any further group activities he proposed.

After dinner, Victor stayed in the kitchen to help his mother clean up, and I went downstairs to attempt to figure out exactly what roughing it in the great outdoors might entail. Less than five minutes of internet research had me turning my phone off and hiding it under my pillow.

Resigned, I dragged my luggage into the middle of the room, and opened my biggest suitcase on the bed. I was sure I was in no way prepared for the adventure that lay ahead of me. A quick perusal of my clothing and accessories told me as much.

I was in the midst of that futile exercise when Victor came in. His expression was unreadable, but he didn’t appear obviously moody or angry. I was grateful for that small mercy, at least.

“Yuri, what are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m trying to get ready to go camping,” I said.

“You were serious about that?”

“You thought I wasn’t?”

He didn’t answer, perhaps because he assumed there was no correct way to do it. He looked from me to my luggage and back again. “You can’t bring your suitcase,” he said. “There’s only so much space in Leo’s car, and we’ll need most of it for gear and supplies. We’re only going for two nights. You can put a few things in a backpack.”

“I know I can’t bring a suitcase,” I said. “I’m just trying to choose my outfits. What am I supposed to wear? I don’t think I have anything appropriate for the forest.”

“Jeans and sweaters are fine,” he said. “There’s no dress code. I wouldn’t bring any of your designer sweaters if I were you, though. In fact, don’t bring anything you don’t want to get dirty.”

I bit my lip. “That narrows it a lot. Now I really don’t know what to pack.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you put all this stuff away for now? I’ll help you figure it out in the morning, and if you really don’t have anything appropriate, maybe we can go to Canadian Tire or the Work Warehouse and find you some stuff.”

“But… those don’t sound like places where I’d like to shop.”

“The places you like to shop probably don’t have what you need for camping,” he said. “Trust me, okay? We’ll get you outfitted for the woods.”

"Okay,” I said.

“We should pick up a sleeping bag for you, too. You could probably borrow Mom’s, but you’re going to need your own when we go to Brazil, so we might as well get it now.”

“We’re going to be sleeping in a tent in Brazil too?”

“Not the whole time, but if we're gonna do the rainforest tour, yeah," he said. "You want the full experience, right?"

“I… I don’t know if I want that full of an experience,” I said, all of a sudden feeling very scared about our future excursion to South America. “I think I’d rather sleep under a proper roof and behind a door that can be locked.”

“Why don’t we see how things go this weekend," he said. "After that, we'llrethink the whole Brazil situation. Maybe we'll have to go somewhere you think would be more acceptable."

I peered down at the contents of my suitcase, disheartened, and reached into my mind to find even the tiniest spark of excitement for our weekend plans. As much as I wanted to feel something other than anxiety, fear and guilt, at that moment those were the strongest emotions I had.

My throat began to ache and I could feel myself starting to shake a little. “Is it too late to change my mind?”

“About this weekend, or Brazil?”

“I meant this weekend.”

“I already told you that you don’t have to go with us, didn’t I?” Victor said. “I’d really like you to, but it’s your choice in the end.”

"It won’t be much fun for you if you have to look after me the whole time," I said.

“Look, everyone knows it’s going to be your first time. Nobody’s going to expect you to do anything on your own, if you’re not ready for it,” he said. “If you’d let Ellie and Leo help, we could all look after you. We could be in it together and maybe it would be fun. They want to be your friends, and it’s starting to get super uncomfortable for me to keep making excuses for you for why you don’t want to be around them.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Nothing,” I said. Frustrated by my own lack of courage, I closed my suitcase more forcefully than I’d intended. “Never mind.”

Victor gazed at me for a long moment. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it doesn’t look like nothing to me. You want to tell me about it?”

On one hand, I did want to tell him about it because I wanted him to comfort me, but on the other hand, I was too embarrassed to confess that the problem was my utter failure at overcoming my fear. I was angry with myself for making a spur of the moment decision I was too stubborn to back out of, yet simultaneously too frightened to follow through on. And I’d have to do it all in the company of people that I was too ashamed to admit made me anxious by their mere presence. All of this could’ve been forestalled if I’d only used a bit of logic and said no in the first place. If I was miserable now, it was nobody’s fault but my own.

I shook my head. “Can you… can you just hold me, please?”

He came over to me and gathered me in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

“My belly hurts,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. I did have a gnawing pain in my stomach, and it felt like the type that was likely to get worse before it got better. My mental state wasn’t helping it improve either.

Victor stroked my back, his hand moving in a long, firm, calming rhythm. He said, "Is this a 'my belly slightly hurts and I want cuddles and sympathy’ sort of thing, or is it hurting really bad?”

“It’s moderately bad,” I said. “I’m functional, obviously, but I don’t feel great.”

“Do you think this is the start of a flare-up?”

“I don’t know,” I tried to say, but my voice caught on the last word.

Suddenly, I found myself fighting tears. I clenched my jaw, determined I was not going to cry. I hate crying. It’s humiliating and I always feel exhausted and horrible afterwards. I tightened my arms around Victor and pressed my face into his shoulder, clutching fistfuls of the soft fabric of his sweater.

“Yuri.” Victor said my name softly. “Tell me what’s really wrong.”

“My stomach really hurts,” I said.

“Would you feel better if I said you don’t have to go camping? I’ll stay here with you. We’ll think of other stuff to do.”

“No.” My throat was so tight, I could barely speak, but I somehow got out. “I don’t want to ruin the weekend for you. I always do that. it’s not fair, and I… I’m sorry.”

“You won’t be ruining anything.”

“Leo and Ellie won’t go without you. I’d be ruining it for them.”

“They’d understand,” he said.

I wondered if they would, and I wondered if Victor truly did.

Their love for each other is so deep and strong that it’s impossible to misread it as anything else. I’ve witnessed it firsthand when they’ve been over here to visit. When he’s with them, Victor is happier and more at ease than I’ve ever seen him.

A terrible realization hit me then. As much as I wanted to be with him myself, I’d already taken him away from Ellie and Leo for two years, and in a couple of weeks I’d be doing that again. His time with them now is precious and I didn’t want to be held responsible for shortening it. I could imagine how much more Leo and Ellie would resent me than they probably already do, and how Victor might resent me too, even if he swore he wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, because I couldn’t think of anything else.

“Please don’t say that,” Victor said. “I need you to actually talk to me, okay? If you’re sick, I get that, and I get it if you’re nervous about going to the North Range, but the way you’re acting lately is just… I don’t know. I’m worried about you.”

“I wish I wasn’t here,” I whispered.

“What? When we first got here, you said you were glad we came," he said. "Why would you say you don't want to be here now?"

“I ruin everything.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Victor said.

“Everything,” I said. “I made you choose between me and your friends. I made you leave your home and the people you love most, and I’ve gotten you into situations that would never even have existed if it weren’t for me. I’ve been trying so hard to be less clingy and needy, but I don’t know how to do it, and… and I’m scared, and…”

I had to stop at that point because I could feel my composure starting to slip. I bit down on the inside of my cheek until the pain of it rivaled the pain in my stomach and I tasted my own blood in my mouth. It gave me something to focus on besides the flood of tears I was desperate to avoid.

“Yuri, you didn’t make me leave,” Victor said. “I left because I wanted to, because I love you and I wanted to be with you.”

“Do you regret it?” I asked.

“Being with you? Never for a second.”

“No. I meant leaving home.”

He fell silent, and for a moment my ragged breathing became the loudest sound in the room. I gathered every scrap of willpower I had, ordering myself not to panic. I was afraid he was going to say yes.

Several seconds later, he did.

“I have to tell you the truth,” he said. “Sometimes I do wish I’d never left here, and I’ve been feeling that a lot this past week especially, but I promise it has nothing to do with you. I love you, and if I magically got a do-over, I’d still travel halfway around the world for you.”

“Would you?” I said. “Knowing what you know now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Knowing how you’d always have to take care of me, and how there’d be so much drama with my family, and how you’d be thousands of kilometers away from everything and everyone you care about.”

“I care about you,” he said.

“I know, but I’m one person.” I sighed. “If you really want to be honest, tell me something.”

“What?”

“If you could have your dream life, what would it look like?”

“It’d look like this. Like me being with you.”

I pulled away from him, so I could look into his eyes. “No,” I said. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Tell me what you’d wish for, if you could live in an ideal world.”

“I’d be with you,” he said, beginning to cry. “Yuri, I don’t understand what you’re asking. Do you… do you not want to be with me? Because I thought—"

"Listen to me,” I said. “I’m not asking you about us. I’m asking what you want right now. If you could live anywhere, be anything, have any specific people around you, what would that be like?”

He shook his head. “You really don’t want me to tell you.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay.” He drew in a breath and let it out shakily. “If we’re talking about an ideal world, you’re right. I never would’ve left Maple Grove. I would’ve stayed here and kept working as a personal trainer and swimming coach, and I’d be volunteering at the dog shelter. I would’ve stayed with my family and friends, and maybe some day I would’ve gone to university to be a nurse or physical therapist.” He looked away from me briefly and when he returned his gaze to mine, there was pain in his eyes, mixed with a white-hot spark of anger. “But I gave all of that up. For you. Do you understand how huge that is? I gave up everything because I thought you were everything.”

“You thought…”

“This conversation is pointless,” he said. “I made my choice and now I’m living with it. That’s all. There’s no perfect world, only this one.”

“But—”

“Why did you even make me tell you?”

“Because I needed to know," I said.

“Why? What do you get out of it?”

“Nothing,” I said. “It wasn’t about me.”

His voice was flat yet somehow still accusatory. “It’s always about you.”

“It’s not,” I said. “At least, I don’t want it to be. It’s like I told you in Kyoto. I want to take care of you. I’m—“

“If that’s what you think you’re doing, you’re doing it wrong,” he said. “Dumb hypothetical questions don’t do anything for me. Maybe instead of torturing me with something you know I can’t have, just try to see things from my point of view for once.”

“That is what I’m trying to do,” I said.

He opened his mouth as if he was about to reply, but quickly closed it. Abruptly, he turned toward the door.

Halfway out of the room, he glanced over his shoulder. “Do whatever the hell you want about the camping trip, because I’m deciding right here and now that I’m going anyway. I’m going to get as much out of my time here as I can because who knows when I’ll get to come back here again after this?”

“Victor—“

"I’m done talking about it. Seriously, do whatever you want. I don't care,” he said, and then slammed the door behind himself as he departed.

I stood there for perhaps a full minute, staring at the closed door, trying to figure out at which point our conversation had taken such a drastically wrong turn, and asking myself what I should do next. In the past, I would’ve let Victor run off to sulk in whatever corner he happened to find convenient. This time, however, I decided I wasn’t going to allow him to walk away from me before we were finished talking.

I opened the door and ascended the basement stairs as quickly as my aching body would allow. Entering the kitchen, I was just in time to catch a glimpse through the glass garden door of Victor’s red sweater disappearing around one of the trees in the backyard.

i didn’t pause to put on my coat. I stepped into my shoes and ran out the back door after him.

[edogawa-division]

ARB Birthday Special 2024: Yuriko Kuromiya

~~ December 22nd ~~

“Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.”

Login Lines:

“It’s quiet today…too quiet. I've forgotten something major. I know it. What on earth is the question-hm? Oh, it’s you. What is it?”  

“A gift? ….Ah. That explains the feeling I've been getting all day. Well, thank you. I do appreciate it.”

Voice Lines:

“Everyone is telling me how they can’t believe that I’m turning 36 years old and how I look no older than my mid-20s. I honestly don’t care for their words but I suppose I can’t blame them. I’ve aged better than most have over the years.”

“If one more person asks me when I’m going to settle down I’m going to snap. I don’t give a damn about this so-called “time limit” I have and how my window of having biological kids is getting shorter and shorter each year. I’m content where I am with no partner, plus Kaoru and Kanra are enough as it is. A newborn would only make my life more chaotic.” 

“I had planned on going to work today, but the coroner’s office called to tell me that I had the day off since it was my birthday. I’m afraid I’m unsure what to do today with all this free time. I’m used to being constantly busy one way or another. It’s quite an odd feeling.”

“Father…I wish you were still here some days. I’ve long made peace with your death, but sometimes I wonder what could’ve been. I’m sure you would've enjoyed meeting those two gremlins I call daughters. Perhaps you could have taught them a trick or two.”

“Are you still singing that song, Kaoru? Uh-huh…and how many times have you seen “Wicked” since it came out? I can’t believe you would…no actually, I can believe you would do that. We’ll talk about your new obsession later, but speaking of gifts, what do you have for me this year? I want to hope that it’s nothing insane but knowing you I shouldn’t expect that.” 

“This is surprisingly tame for you, Kaoru. Oh no, what did you do to it? Dammit, I knew I should’ve expected another deranged gift from you. Only you would think to coat a person's nail in a dangerous fatal poison Kaoru. One question, though, why green? Why not black or violet? The colors I normally wear. Kaoru…stop watching “Wicked” I beg of you. *sighs* …There she goes, I truly can’t with her sometimes.” 

“Hello there, Kanra. Your gift wouldn’t happen to be as manic as Kaoru’s would it? Just a touch, dear. I love her but sometimes I wonder if she was dropped on her head as a baby. *snorts* Can’t lose what was never truly there. Oh, you should know I’d love any gift from you Kanra. You’re my sweet girl after all. ” 

“I’m an albino Kanra I can’t help that light and I do not mix but it is a lovely gift. It’ll be especially helpful in the summer so I don’t burn. Just thinking about that time makes me wish it could stay winter forever. Oh, hush you we all have our preferences. Yes yes, lead the way dear. Your cakes are to die for.”

Kaoru Lines:

“Popular~! You’re gonna be popular~! Sorry! It’s just really catchy even if I like Elphaba over Glinda. Just 2 okay maybe…22 times. It’s such a good movie you wouldn’t understand, but enough about that, it’s your special day! Happy birthday, Yuriko! I got you a little gift to celebrate! So here! Hope you enjoy it!”   

“Oh, you should know by now, Yuriko, that I’d give you something more than some simple nail polish. First, I made it myself, and second, it contains a deadly fast-action poison that'll kill anyone in minutes if you scratch them. Hm? Why green? Oh, I got the idea after seeing Elphaba’s nails. Like they’re such a stunning shade of green, and your nails are pretty long, so I thought it was perfect. Nope, I'm riding this obsession until the very end, Yuriko! Anyway, I’m off to recreate Glinda’s bubble now since I’m done with Elphaba’s broom! Bye!” 

Kanra Lines:

“Happy Birthday, Yuriko-san! Did Kaoru go crazy with her gift again? Sounds like her and it doesn’t help that I heard her laughing from her lab all week. I think she’s finally losing her sanity. If it makes you feel better my gift is way more tame than hers. It’s not much but I think you get better use out of it than Kaoru’s.” 

“I know you don’t like the sun or any type of light, actually, so I thought you’d like a parasol. Considering how you burn in the summer sun I can’t blame you for not liking the season but stay in winter? It’s too cold for me. I already sleep with 4 blankets. Hehehe yeah, I like spring more. Now come on! I have your cake already made and it’s tea-flavored too! So hurry up!”  

[donotadoptme]

Summer with 4*town🤍

♫ Real Love Baby by Father John Misty

Singing one of the band’s fuckboy songs with Aaron T. on the street, who you spent the weekend with. Not just with him, but his family since they invited you over. After the two of you played with his little brothers, helped his mother make dinner and grilled with his father in the garden, you lay down on his bed, limbs all over the sheets as you two fall asleep. Correction, you three. Which is, his smallest brother between the two of you, head on T.’s chest but legs on yours.

♫ Kids by MGMT

Going to a playground in the woods with Tae Young, the two of you trying to climb everything in there before you set up a picnic in the grass. Just you, him and the unnecessarily much food he bought. Though it ended up being just enough, since by his decision, you two ended up watching the sunset too by the beach next to the woods. And after the much tries of trying to get a good picture of the pink colors on the sky, you went home with him and slept on the couch. To be woken up to him kicking you in the throat, but that’s another case..

♫ Cold Water by Major Lazer

Going to the park because you asked Aaron Z. to play basketball with you. He has his own court at his house, sure, but yay other people!! He’s not so happy about them but decides to go with you, for you anyway. Deep down he knew that at the end of the day you would get tired of it anyway, no matter if he let you win or not. So, he can buy ice cream for you. And insist on paying, even if you shove the money into his hand he will put it back into your wallet when you’re not looking. Oh, and let’s not forget, he won’t forget the look on your face when he got twirly ice cream taller than his head, and ate it within ten minutes while walking home.



♫ Let Me Love You by DJ Snake

Going wall climbing with Robaire, him always laughing at you when you fall, but never failing to catch your hand in time if he’s close enough. If not, then he just falls after you, seeing no issue in starting over. You two have all day, he cleared his schedule for the day just for you! He goes shirtless after a while because it’s hot, but on the way to the car to put his shirt down, you two decide to go on a ride instead. Sunset, rich ass car, Robaire himself, you, perfect summer day.

♫ Ready or Not by Bridgit Mendler

You and Jesse had the idea of going into an adventure park for a long time, and finally living with it. Just the two of you, in shorts and sleeveless shirts, looking best on Jesse sadly, high in the woods. He goes first to tell you how to do it and how easy it is, though he also likes laughing at you being scared at some extra hard parts. He always catches you when he can, so it’ll be easier for you and you know he’s there, which is not hard to notice because fuck he looks hot. It was a long day of Jesse being sweet, then teasing because he saw how you looked at the women who were looking at him, but it was definitely good.

♫ Best Day Of My Life by American Authors

Going to the beach with all of the boys together, that being the only plan for the day. It being spent by watching Z. eat the ice cream what was longer than his head in one sitting(Ik I already mentioned this but cmon I just know this man eats bigass foods everytime he has the chance😭), Z. and T. throwing you into the water then laughing at you, Robaire putting sunscreen on you back GOD ROBAIRE putting sunscreen ON YOUR BACK before you two lay down and talk, catching fish with Tae in little trash cans you two bought just for that, poking the water and poor fishes with the reed with Aaron T., then at the end of the day, getting on Jesse’s jetski, hugging him from the back as he tells you stories about the members.

[george228732]

Fylass Through the Looking Glass - Chapter Seven - Begin Anew

Fylass woke up in cold sweat, with their heart beating out of their chest, and their memories being clogged in the fog of the moment, only to realize that the place they were in wasn’t Wonderland anymore, but the real world; more specifically, the same room Fylass slept the last rainy night, on Lucid and Buddy’s Castle; the sun was rising, leaving a nice morning to spend, and the outskirts were filled with small puddles, sunken into the grass.

The kid’s fingers were trembling as they breathed in and out to calm themself down, and then, they saw the Club Brooch on their sweater, and thanks to that, they remembered why they placed it in in the first place. Their mood went from scaredness, to low frustration, as they looked at the drawer next to the bed they were on, noticing the box the brooch should be in.

"...Sigh." They placed it on the box and closed it shut. 

They left the bed, opening the door with their ESP as they grabbed their bag they brought with them, and used the hallways in front of them to get to the main room to see the people that took them in for the last day as a way to make them feel better, and sure enough, Fylass saw Lucid right at the end of it.

"Oh, kid! Good Morning! Are you… feeling well?"

"...I had a nightmare, but besides that, I am okay." Fylass chuckled slightly, trying to act as normal as possible.

"Oh dear, I am sorry to hear that…"

"I-It’s alright, I am fine now…" The kid tried to walk away. "So… Thank you and such, but I gotta leave."

Lucid was quite surprised to hear that. "I actually was doing waffles! Can you stay for a little so you can get them too? It’ll be worth it, I swear!"

Fylass was thinking about it, and even then, they didn’t want to be rude to say no; they accepted. "...Sure."

Lucid seemed happy and they left the hallway to get to the kitchen, as Fylass redirected themself to the dining room this time to receive that breakfast with regret, as their mind tried to recollect itself with their experiences in Wonderland.

"...What am I doing? That wasn’t real, what’s the problem with me? If I want to get better and have a normal life, I shouldn’t keep going there…"

They were about to open the door to their destination, but they were interrupted by the bird that bit them on the arm to not let them out last night, now standing on the kid’s feathery head.

"So… Good morning!" She snickered. "Are you doing well, today?"

"...I think."

"...Geez… Sorry to hear that, dude." Fylass had the feeling that she was being sincere about that statement she just made; normally, she wouldn’t be like that, always being mischievous and snarky, but it seemed that she couldn’t help but feel bad about such a young soul, going through so much torment.

"D-Don’t worry, it’ll be fine, I swear."

"Alllriiighty then. I heard that Buddy and Lucid are making waffles and some chocolate milk due to how cold the day is outside, so uh, feel free to hang out with us for a little more before leaving, would you?"

"That’s the plan." Fylass chuckled weakly. "Hey, uh… thanks, for worrying about me and such."

"I mean, that’s the least I could do! You are very appreciated by Lucid and Buddy, and you are nice to fellow Master Crowns, ironically enough, so yeah, you deserve some care, kid!"

"...I guess… Haha." Fylass opened the door, and went towards the dining room.

It looked pretty much the same as last night, but with a cold wind oozing through the cold windows; last night, the rain was making the entire environment feel like it was winter already, although, autumn days were starting to happen, after a nice summer full of joy, but also, Fylass’ blown swan song started right at the end of it. Quite ironic.

The kid silently went towards a chair that seemed perfect for them, and flied towards it with their odd looking wings to sit down. Soon enough, someone entered the same room as well, this one being Buddy, with that crown over his head, having a tray with some glasses of chocolate milk.

"Oh, good morning kid. Are you feeling well?"

"Yeah, I think so… What about you?"

"I slept nicely, although I am not sure if you did too." Buddy had a soft spot for the kid ever since the beginning; none were in very nice situations back then, but Fylass was kind to no end; they were with him in whatever situation, along with Shard, and other friends, and so, he really wanted to make the kid happy.

"Don’t worry, I feel better than last night, so I just wanted to say thank you."

"You don’t need to thank me. It’s the least me and Lucid could do for you. Your kindness needs to be repaid, for sure."

"...Yeah…" Fylass wasn’t so sure about that statement, and it showed.

Lucid came to the same room, with Crowny nearby, the former with a tray of waffles being held by his hands. 

"Those look pretty, for sure, thank you, Lucid."

"Aw, thanks!" Lucid left the tray on the table, and placed the plates around the seats, giving one to Fylass, along with a glass of chocolate milk to warm their heart and mind, although they only started eating after everyone was ready to eat.

Fylass ate as gently as they could, nicely contrasted to Crowny’s feral way of eating, but even if it still faintly felt like eating sand, the taste felt as if they were on a place that they really could call home; not the convent they were forced to be in as if it was a cult, or an empty home that couldn’t feel any more stale and lonely. 

They were happy, even if it was miniscule, that sense of faint happiness was starting to appear.

Fylass’ plate and glass were emptied quite quickly, still feeling regretful, but that regret felt fuzzy. They looked at the rest, which had their plates and glasses already emptied out, seemingly enjoying themselves at the scene.

"Well… Thank you, guys, but I have to leave. My house needs some care, and I need to check on my crops and garden; the rain was pretty strong last night, so I fear for the safety of my stuff, hehe…"

"Oh, that’s no problem, but could you wait a little, please?" Buddy left the room, and Fylass had no other choice than to wait a little, and when he came back, the kid noticed that Buddy now had a purple scarf on hand.

"Here, have this. We were going to give this off to Crowny, but it always fell off her tiny body, so I thought that you might give it better use, and considering that it is autumn, it couldn’t be more convenient."

Fylass looked at the scarf, not having any words to spell, but begrudgingly, they took it and wore it right after. 

"It does look great on you, kid!" Lucid said with joy.

"...Thank you… Are you really sure I can keep this, though?"

"Buddy nor I could use it, due to how small it is, so it’s only fitting that we give it to someone that could use it perfectly."

"...I swear that I’ll keep it with me as long as I am capable of. Thank you so much." Fylass went towards the main room to open the door, not before waving goodbye to the people that took them in, which waved goodbye after they did, just hoping for their happiness.

With their ESP, they opened the great main door, and left for their home, walking through the cold, grassy fields, trying their best to avoid the water puddles through their way there. The path was lonely, due to how cold the weather was, with no Waddle Dee or inhabitant of Dreamland present around Fylass’ point of view. They just thought that they would see no one down their way home, but that thought quickly faded when they saw their house in the distance, but it felt off, too pristine, compared to the wild rain of last night.

They ran towards it to check it out more deeply, only to realize that there were people around the house, which seemed to take care of it; looking further, Fylass realized they were their siblings, Selene, Dolly, TK, and Ades.

"Guys? W-What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi Fylass! We were just taking care of your house while you were gone!" Selene was happy to see Fylass well, and their siblings seemingly were pretty happy as well, with Dolly hugging them afterwards.

"Hi there, best friend! Your flowers are so pretty, so Dolly decided to take care of them with Ades himself!" She said, giggling like an innocent kid. 

"I am quite surprised that you were able to grow all of these things around your house; you always seemed packed with surprises, and your crops and flowers are even more proof of that!" Ades had some first on his hands; he seemingly was having some fun with the garden Fylass had made for themself.

"Yeah, and the inside of your house is also extremely nice! It all feels so pretty and nostalgic, although quite lonely. Either way, you really know how to decorate, don’t you?" TK said afterwards, with an expression of calm, but humor in his vocal tone.

"...You guys were taking care of my house while I was gone?" Fylass looked at their home again. "Wow… I don’t know what to say… Thank you."

"Aw, no problem! It’s the least you deserve, for being a great person!"

"...Why are you guys being so kind to me, all of a sudden?" Deep down, Fylass knew the answer, but they didn’t want to hear it.

"Well… You deserve some nice moments, and considering how you feel, we would like to compensate you for all the things you’ve done for us! From the moments you made cookies for all of us, or those moments where you decided to talk with us about some problems!

"...I appreciate the kindness, but you didn’t need to do all of that…"

"Yes, we did! Besides, we had fun doing this, for you, and for us!"

Fylass was speechless, for sure, but they hugged their siblings with all of their strength, as they tried to hide their tears of gratitude; they didn’t know why they were feeling this emotional, but they were happy for sure.

"A-Ah… Thank you, guys. Let me get into the house and leave this backpack here, I’ll serve you some sea, if you like." Fylass entered the house, and did as such, noticing how pretty the house was, seemingly being decorated even further by their siblings and other friends. 

They moved to the kitchen, pulled out some teacups and started to make some tea; afterwards, they opened the fridge to get some cheesecake, as they heard the rest entering the house. Fylass realized that there was little to nothing on the fridge, leaving things like candies and such as the only things left. 

"Bummer…" They took the candies, which were small chocolates, and afterwards, they took the recently made tea and poured it in the teacups next to them, and left towards the living room to give them to their invitees.

"Here. I was going to give you guys some cheesecake, but I have barely anything in my fridge, haha…" They laughed a little, and gave the teacups and chocolate pieces to them.

"Oh, that’s alright! Don't worry about it." Selene said with compassion in her tone.

"Thanks for understanding. I might need to get some groceries, though, and I think I have enough money to cover my necessities, hehe."

"Wait, you are a kid… Where do you get your money?"

"Oh! I just sell my flowers and crops to get it. It’s kinda hard, but not impossible!" They noticed the faces of surprise when Fylass said that.

"...So, what you are saying is that you work as well?"

"Yeah… Don’t worry, though! I am fine, and I can do these quite easily."

"...How long have you been doing this, though?"

"Well, ever since I lived on my own, like a year ago."

"..." Everyone went silent. How could this be? Fylass has been living on Popstar for one year or so, and ever since the beginning, they had to resort to live on their own and work alone, and no one realized? Even with that though, they always gave out food to them, as if it didn’t care. Did Fylass even eat?

"...Guys?"

"H-Hey, what if we go out shopping for groceries a couple of hours later? I would like to get some things, and considering that you are in need of buying stuff, I see this as a win-win." Ades said, even though the true reason for it was by pure concern for the kid’s wellbeing. The rest seemingly knew what Ades was doing, so they came up with excuses to go out shopping too.

"Oh, sure. I don’t mind!" Fylass, though, seemingly was unaware of their plan, much to the rest’s belief.

"Well, in that case, we will get going." Everyone left the teacups on the floor right next to the couch they were on.

"That’s alright. See you in a couple of hours, then!" Fylass said, as the others waved goodbye towards Fylass, and left the house, as the kid decided to use the bathroom.

"...Wow… I never thought Fylass was that vulnerable…" 

"We need to spend more time with them. I didn’t think that Fylass needed to be that independent from day one, and considering what they’ve gone through…"

"...We need to make them happy.

-------

@lostsoulau-ask

@loaflovesdoodling

@ilikesillythingswooo

@moon-mage

@that-fanperson-meg

[sinceileftyoublog]

MJ Lenderman Album Review: Manning Fireworks

(Anti-)

BY KEITH MILLER

Manning Fireworks, the fourth studio album from singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist MJ Lenderman, is an endearing rock album with slight folk influences that smirks, smiles, and sighs with its audience. Its opening title track leads with an acoustic guitar that moseys its way to the track’s conclusion. Fiddles, electric guitars, and percussion start to fill in as Lenderman sings, “Once a perfect little baby / Who’s now a jerk / Standing close to the pyre manning fireworks.” The thesis seeps through the album: You used to be innocent, but you should know better by now. The lead single “She’s Leaving You” leans into this somber concept. It sounds simultaneously like a hug and a difficult conversation. The chorus reminds its listener, “We’ve all got work to do,” while the guitar builds up and maintains a steady progression to its finale: Wednesday lead singer and Lenderman’s real life ex-girlfriend Karly Hartzman closing out the track, singing, “She’s leaving you” as a steady bass line fills the back space.

Parts of Manning Fireworks feel like a garage band rocking out with the door wide open, like on “Wristwatch” or “On My Knees��, while other songs, like “Rip Torn,” are reminiscent of something you might hear sitting around a bonfire at Boy Scout camp. The product here is a stellar album right up until the very near end. That said, my biggest gripe with Manning Fireworks is the closing track. “Bark at the Moon” plays with a 10-minute run time, twice as long as the second-longest track on the album. I always get excited when a band like MJ Lenderman’s records a long song; I love hearing how they can justify the length. Unfortunately, while half of “Bark at the Moon” is a thoughtful composition about growing up, the other half is just noise emanating from the guitars. The vocals and instrumentation are poignant, but the guitar fuzz drags on a little too long and quickly loses whatever emotion it tried to muster.

Still, Manning Fireworks is a comforting rock album that doesn’t shy away from its Southern roots while still pushing the mainstream appeal of Lenderman’s brand of indie rock. For its very few shortcomings, it’ll be a great record to have on rotation as summer fades into fall. Give it a listen while you’re sipping on something near that bonfire--just be sure to keep the fireworks at a safe distance.

[thesconesyard]

I’m so far behind 🫤

Underneath the Western Sky

8. Prancing in the Moonlight

McCoy stood in the yard before the house and looked around. Jim had decided after the previous summer’s successful party, that it should become an annual thing. Everyone from the neighboring ranches had come and many folks from in town. It had been loud and raucous and a great way for the crew on the ranch to move on from all the bad that happened with Khan and Marcus and Krall.

The next afternoon and evening the yard would be full of dancing and music and laughing and good food. Nearly everything was set up already as McCoy looked. All that was needed was to bring wood around for the fire pit where they would once again be roasting a pig.

A small noise sounded by McCoy’s boots and he looked down at the small cat looking up at him.

“You probably won’t like all those people around,” he told Franklin. “Have to watch out for your tail all night.”

“I knew it!”

McCoy turned around to see Jaylah coming up behind him.

“You do love Franklin!” she teased.

“No!” McCoy said in mock indignation. “That little furball! Never!”

Jaylah laughed as she leaned down and scooped up the little furball. Franklin bumped his head against her and purred. McCoy reached over and scratched under the cat’s chin.

“Keenser says the weather will be perfect tomorrow,” Jaylah told McCoy.

“It’ll be a long day,” McCoy cautioned, knowing all the work that would go into roasting the pig the next day. It would be an early start.

“Yes,” Jaylah agreed, “but I can not wait!”

McCoy looked around the dancing couples from where he stood chatting with Dr. M’Benga. The music was lively and everyone he saw was smiling happily. He was lighthearted himself. The band finished the song they were playing.

“There you are,” Christine said as she walked up to the two doctors out of the crowd.

“Ahh, I’m sorry Leonard,” Dr. M’Benga said. “I promised Christine a dance.”

“Of course,” McCoy replied heartily, not put out at all. “Have fun!”

Christine led the way and McCoy looked around again trying to spot Scotty. He had disappeared earlier in the evening when Robbie had arrived. The other Scott brother had ridden in from town in a borrowed wagon, a woman McCoy couldn’t quite place at his side.

There went Robbie. The Scotsman danced across McCoy’s vision with the woman he had come with. But where was Scotty?

Jaylah danced by with Chekov before McCoy finally saw his partner laughing with Sulu near the food tables. The tables were groaning from all the things everyone had brought to share. McCoy made his way towards them.

“There ye are Len!” Scotty grinned when he noticed McCoy. His smile pulled McCoy close and he slipped an arm around the doctor’s waist. McCoy raised a brow at the glass in Scotty’s hand. How much had he already had?

“Who is that with Robbie?” McCoy asked the question he’d been wondering all evening.

“Mrs. MacSamond,” Sulu answered.

“Mrs. MacSamond?” McCoy asked, feeling his brow rising again.

“She’s a widow,” Scotty said quickly.

“Of course Robbie found the other Scottish person around here,” Sulu laughed.

“Nae lad,” Scotty laughed. “She was born back east. Her husband was the one born back home.”

“Now I know her,” McCoy said, the woman’s familiar face recognized at last. “Ranch on the other side of town?”

“Yep,” Sulu said.

“He’s a quick mover ain’t he?” McCoy asked Scotty with a nudge to his ribs.

Scotty shook his head and looked resigned for a moment. “Aye.”

“You wanna dance?” McCoy asked as the song finished and the crowd cheered the band again.

“Sure,” Scotty said, peering around McCoy. “Do you know someone who wants to?”

Sulu laughed loudly and McCoy rolled his eyes.

The firelight was dying down and the band was packing up their instruments. Wagons could be heard rumbling away mixed with hoof beats. McCoy held Scotty close and swayed with him to the last notes of music still echoing towards the hills.

“Suppose we should help with some of the cleaning up,” Scotty said in a soft voice.

McCoy made a noise, which was muffled against Scotty’s neck where he had tucked his face.

“I know love,” Scotty whispered.

McCoy lifted his head at a stumbling sound. Jaylah was practically carrying Chekov as they walked towards the house. Scotty chuckled as they watched.

“Head in you two,” Jim called towards them.

“But—” Scotty began.

“We’ll do it in the morning,” Jim said, waving a hand dismissively.

“And I’ll keep an eye on this for a bit,” Sulu added from by the fire pit.

“Len?” Scotty whispered.

“Let’s go,” McCoy answered. He pulled himself up straight, grabbed Scotty’s hand and led the way to their cabin. The day had been long, just like he had promised Jaylah and all he wanted was a soft pillow under his head and a warm Scotsman at his side.

“Night!” Jim’s voice followed them. McCoy waved a hand over his head in response, but kept moving.

“It was a bonnie night,” Scotty mumbled.

“Yes it was,” McCoy agreed. He glanced over as a beam of moonlight lit Scotty’s face. “Yes it was,” he repeated to himself.

[falloutbradreviews]

Bilmuri - American Motor Sports

Let me ask an honest question to open this review up, because it’s something I’ve noticed a lot the last year or so — what’s up with everyone and their mother becoming a country artist? Hell, Post Malone has a new country album coming out next month, MGK dropped a Zach Bryan cover recently, and Shaboozey’s new album (that I absolutely love) is a full blown country / folk album, and even some alternative artists are getting in on it. Bilmuri, the longtime project from former Attack Attack clean vocalist and guitarist Johnny Franck, just put out a new album, entitled American Motor Sports, and this album is one of my favorites of the year.

This was my proper introduction to his music, as Franck has put out so many albums over the course of the last decade, it’s always hard to figure out a good starting point. I figured this would work, because this is a 28-minute album, and he’s also signed to Columbia, at least according to Apple Music. I don’t know JC this is his debut project with the label, but that’s huge. I did hear bits and pieces of the opening track, “Better Hell,” and I was excited, especially if the rest of the album shared that track’s sound: metalcore-meets-country. It’s “yallternative” if I’ve ever heard it, and my god, it rules. American Motor Sports is the perfect summer album, because of its sound, its catchiness, and its energy. It’s also just a great album, through and through.

The funniest thing is that this album is really nothing unique, but as I always say, it’s the execution. American Motor Sports is really fun, catchy, energetic, and written incredibly well. The hooks are absolutely infectious, the breakdowns are some of the crunchiest I’ve heard in awhile, Franck’s vocals are fantastic (as well as the few guests that pop up), and the lyrics are surprisingly poignant a lot of the time. Bilmuri is known for making memes, especially about himself, but the lyrics don’t reflect that, so you can look at this album at face value.

Seriously, if you want some wonderful hooks, you’ll have them for days here. Almost every track is an earworm, especially “Better Hell,” “Emptyhanded,” “All Gas,” “Spinnin’ You Around,” or “2016 Cavaliers (Ohio),” this is one of the catchiest albums I’ve heard in a long time. This is just a lightning in a bottle type of album, where everything came together in the most perfect way. Even the guests are pretty good, which include country singers Dylan Marlowe and Mitchell Tenpenny (the latter of which also appeared a couple of years back on State Champs’ Kings Of The New Age), pop singer Knox, and pop band A R I Z O N A.

It’s Franck that really makes this record shine, and his vocals are impeccable, but his songwriting is so sharp, catchy, and clever, you can’t help but love it. This is one of my favorite albums of the year, and I doubt it’ll change. Some of my favorite albums of this year that I had on the list, let alone real high, have either gone down, or fallen to the wayside (despite still really enjoying them), kind of just because something better came along, but this album is a mainstay for sure. I really, really love this album, and I’ve been listening to it constantly, especially with every song getting stuck in my head. I just have so much fun with this thing, I can’t help but really love it. This is one of the best albums of the year, and if you haven’t listened to it yet, you really need to get on that, because it’s killer.