#and also veronica letting loose

[cervidaecorpse]

Have some silly friends.

[soundspeachytome]

dusty and fraulein (shohei ohtani au)

summary: your asshole cat falls in love with your new next-door neighbor and takes shelter in his front porch while displacing his poor dog, dusty, and a whole lot of chaos in between ensues.

tropes: enemies to lovers, next door neighbor dynamics, dog parent x cat parent, fake dating, small town romance, pure, pure fluff and romance only.

word count: 11.2k

this is far from my original writing style but i hope you have fun reading as much as i had writing this! (if there are any inconsistencies, sorry in advance!)

other notes: i had patterned the two characters loosely after lorelai and luke and stars hollow as the town. *swoon!*

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

=================================

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You squint through the harsh back light of your phone and see the time: 8:47 AM. It is barely brunch and you hear loud music and conversation from outside your bedroom window. You pull the covers over your head and try to go back to sleep but the sound of a hammer being pounded on wood disrupts your journey back to dreamland. 

It also doesn’t help that your head also feels like someone is drilling it into concrete. For a split second, you wonder why you even let that much alcohol enter your system on a Friday night, and why no one stopped you when you were such a lightweight. You try to remember the events from the night before and then it hits you: you caught your boyfriend–now ex!--sexting with an intern at his office through the messages on his phone. You were not the type to scour through your boyfriends’ phones but it was supposed to be dinner date night with pasta and Sauvignon Blanc when Jack’s phone lit up from the kitchen counter. You were busy preparing cutlery when the phone dinged again. You thought it was important from work and since you had been very open and comfortable with each after a year of dating, taking a peek would not hurt. 

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. 

Jack, despite being a successful finance analyst, the smart, bookish type, the one who can compute numbers in his head in about 5 seconds or less, apparently was not smart enough to keep his notifications hidden or at least try and cover them up like a serial cheater would. Not that you  wanted him hiding anything from you, but at that moment, seeing the thirst traps and the disgusting follow-up sexts from his notifications bar were enough for you to hurl his precious PS5 from the fifth floor of his apartment building and leave the crime scene with the wine and pasta in tow. 

You don’t know what happened after because you left while he was still in the shower, his apartment thrashed, with a note which you left that says, “For the record, I faked all my orgasms during our sexy time. Veronica ❤️ seems to love your *mini* performance though! PS. If you’re looking for your PS5, try looking down from the balcony, asshole.”

Love is a lie, you scoffed. You let the remnants of last night’s hurt consume you for a little bit more and cry under the covers. You cried until your eyes tired, until the weight of your head felt heavier than a bowling ball. You thought about staying in bed for a few more minutes when a boisterous laughter interrupted your thoughts. The laugh was followed by incomprehensible sentences. The voice came from a man probably in his late twenties, deep, jovial and friendly. You couldn’t make out the words from this distance but he sounded like he was giving instructions, volume fading in and out every now and then. Then more manly laughter. You didn’t know why but this person had a distinct laugh that you found very pleasant. You wonder somberly if you could laugh like that again. 

You jolted upright and went for the door. You will definitely be happy again soon but first, coffee. 

The best hangover fix is a steaming cup of coffee with a plate of bacon and pancakes. You poured yourself a hot mug of coffee and suddenly felt unstoppable, like you’re actually happy, at least temporarily. The pounding in your head has subsided but the drilling from nextdoor hasn’t. You must have new neighbors, the way you’re seeing movers coming in and out of the moving truck parked outside. You tried to catch a glimpse of this neighbor causing all the ruckus but were unsuccessful as the trees lined beside your porch were covering your line of vision. From behind you, you felt your cat, Fraulein, bump her head on your ankles, purring audibly.

“Looks like the new neighbors woke you up too, huh?” She yawned and continued looking up at you. 

Fraulein, a female American shorthair of three years, stood around nine pounds with her stocky legs and long, proportioned tail. Her fur was a thick orange coat with faint white stripes covering most of her body. She was nameless when you picked her up from the animal shelter. She was barely five months old at that time and despite being smaller than the other cats, she had snuggled up to you when you reached for a pet. When you scratched her head and heard her purr loudly, you knew right then and there that she was the one for you. She was the friendliest, clingiest and most loveable thing you have in your life, and despite her “orange cat personality” as most people had dubbed, you wouldn’t replace her with anything in the world, not even for your hound dog-looking ex, Jack. 

She did a big stretch as you picked her up while you stood idly by the window. As you stared outside, Fraulein’s purring sending you in a trance, you suddenly notice a pair of eyes looking up at you from the front lawn. Those eyes should not be there, and more importantly, the pair of eyes belonged to a dog standing just mere inches from your flowering shrubs, tail wagging. If this dog takes another step, they could ruin the gardenias you’ve been trying to grow. 

You step outside and try to shoo the dog away when it suddenly jumps and barks. 

“Hey! Get away from my garden!” You try to stay calm as the dog continues to bark and come playfully near the shrubs. Your heart sinks when his paw accidentally steps on the stems of your peonies. You’ve been meaning to pluck them this week so you can replace the wilted ones from your vase. 

“Oh my god… Please go away! Shoo!” You desperately waved the dog away but it continued to jump excitedly and roll around, probably thinking you were out there to play. Fraulein, who was still in your arms the entire time, started getting restless and was hissing at the dog’s direction, her untucked claws boring into your skin. That’s when you saw a man, probably over six feet tall, rushing towards the dog. He had thick black hair and the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen. 

“Oh my god, Dusty! What are you doing here…” He put a leash on the dog, whose name was probably Dusty, as you have heard, and carried him with one arm. 

“I’m so so sorry! I was inside the house and I didn’t realize Dusty escaped from his leash.” His big brown eyes complemented well against his slightly tanned skin. With your obvious height difference, you had to look up at him from a distance without hurting your neck. 

“He almost ruined my flowers,” You started to say, eyes still locked in his. If you hadn’t forced yourself to look towards your garden, you would have been sucked into his creamy brown orbs. 

You assessed the garden from the mini scuffle. There was a bit of overturned soil from some of the shrubs, especially from the peonies getting the most damage. The stems have been slightly bent, almost breaking from where it stood. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m sosososorry! I didn’t mean to–I mean, Dusty’s still young, he’s very playful and…” 

“I was planning on cutting them this week, anyway. Your dog has to stay away from my garden, though.” I pointed at the lopsided peonies, almost looking like they have their hands up in the air, waving sideways.

He looked so apologetic that he almost looked like it was his fault. He tightened his grip on his dog, Dusty, who looked so small and well-behaved being cradled by a big-bodied man. Meanwhile, Fraulein has not relaxed one bit after that quick garden mess and had her claws out, clinging to my threadbare sweater.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll keep a tight leash on her. I’m Shohei Ohtani, by the way. We just moved next door, so I guess we’re neighbors now. I’d offer my hand right now, but I’m afraid Dusty would jump out of my grip. ”

Now that you are able to look at his face carefully, you realize that he was fairly handsome. Correctly proportioned face, dreamy brown eyes, and a smile that invited first love butterflies kind of vibe. He was also tall and definitely bulky over that black long-sleeved sweater that was folded up to his elbows. You could tell he dedicates a good amount of time to his body.

“So that explains all this noise so early in the morning.” You say with an almost sarcastic tone of voice. You didn’t mean it and you were willing to forgive them for the morning ruckus but the garden mishap and the mini-heart attack you had for your plants had somehow added to the list of how-to-piss-your-neighbor-on-the-first-day. And you’re really bad at moving past your first impressions of other people. 

“Are all cat people always this cranky in the morning?” He commented cheekily, displaying a playful expression in his eyes. This man named Shohei is trying to get to you and it’s definitely working. For a first conversation, it surely is getting on your nerves to be read so openly, and in your own premises, at that. 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just an observation. Cat people seemed to be more emotionally charged than dog people.” He said matter-of-factly and continued to smile. He’s handsome but he’s also starting to be annoying as hell. What does he mean by that? Does he want to show off that dog people are better than cat people? 

“Well. If we’re going to talk about stereotypes here then I must say dog people are careless people-pleasers who hogs the attention and only cares about being liked and do not give a rat’s ass on taking up other people’s space and boundaries. I’d also offer to shake my hand but I’m afraid my cat right here might scratch your dog’s face for ruining our morning.” You stared hard at him and slowly backed away, returning to your porch steps.

“Nice to meet you, too, I guess! I would suggest chamomile tea and tone down on coffee!” He waved cheerfully, as he exited the lawn and walked towards his home. You turned your heel and slammed the door shut loud enough for him to hear. Fraulein jumped out of your grip and mewed almost as angrily. She darted toward the kitchen and went out of sight. 

“What a weirdo… If Fraulein doesn’t like him then I don’t have to like him, too.” You muttered to yourself and moved to the bathroom to take a shower. 

You spent your afternoon in the garden, watering and cutting the flowers in full bloom. You wore your oldest t-shirts with a print that says “I Wet My Plants” under your pink square overalls and a sun hat to protect you from the sun. You were listening to your beloved Birdy mix on your headphones as you tended the prettiest flowers in your garden, muting the noise of the world.

I know I was stupid to let what we had go to waste

Why does everything I love always get taken away?

Ghost in the wind calling you to take me home

Ghost in the wind crying, where do I belong?

Can anyone hear me now?

Can anyone hear me now?

“Can you hear me, Y/N?”

“Agh!”

You almost jumped out of your skin when a hand touched you lightly in the arm. It was Patrick Sandoval, your high school best friend, and sometimes main supplier of Fraulein’s flea medicine. You forgot that he was visiting today.

“Whoa! Extra jumpy today?” he smiled his Colgate-white smile and cocked his head to the side. “Coffee overload, again?”

Suddenly you remembered what your new neighbor had said during your first encounter this morning. Naturally cranky… Tone down on the coffee… He had no idea to be assuming things like that, not when you had just literally met.

“Jack cheated on me and I was hungover, okay?” You grit your teeth through the mention of your ex. Like the stench of his name made the bile climb up your throat. “I decimated his PS5 into tiny cracked pieces.”

“Oh, shit, man.. I’m proud of you.” He put you in a half-embrace and patted your head. “Do you need me to break his legs for you?”

You giggled, arm still locked around his waist. “No, but I took one of his expensive wines so that evens that out for me, I think. I don’t care.”

Patrick looks at you and wonders if he arrived too late today. He notices the dark bags under your eyes and your puffy face, probably a result of crying all night. He wondered if you had been crying all morning, too. He couldn’t help but lean in and give you a full, bear hug.

“Just let me know if you need us to file a restraining order, babygirl.” You snorted and buried your face under his embrace, thankful for the assurance. Patrick has always been your rock since high school. When your first boyfriend ditched you in prom, Patrick was there to rescue you when he wasn’t initially supposed to go; you ended the night with stomachs full of pizza, sparkling soda and belly laughter.

You and Patrick had been for each other’s rarest moments throughout adulthood: gushing about your first times, your first heartbreaks, getting into college, graduation… you even wondered if both of you are just teetering from the sidelines, waiting for each other to do the first move. You always brush the thought away because to do that means risking your friendship with him. You don’t want to lose him, not even as a friend.

“By the way, I’m just here to drop these medicines for dear ol’ Frau that you asked.” He lifted a paper bag with a cute animal picture and his pet shop name printed across it. Paw and Order.

 “Thanks, Patrick. I could’ve picked them up if you called.” Patrick has been the sole pet doctor in town which contributed solely to his success. Seeing how much people nowadays prefer taking pets instead of bearing children, he took the opportunity to put up his own pet shop and clinic; you and Fraulein have been number one customers ever since.

“It’s my pleasure, milady.” He did an elegant bow, to which I returned a curtsy, and giggled. “I’m also here to let you know that I’ll be on a business trip for two weeks. So this will be sort of my goodbye.”

“What kind of business trip takes two weeks long?” You don’t really want him to leave, especially with the holidays approaching, you had planned to spend it all with him.

“The kind where your father wants you to venture to a new business spot and spend the holidays with him and his new family.” He shrugged and looked at you, hoping you’d stop him from the impending family mess he’s about to go to, but you only scrunched your nose.

“That sucks, man. You’ll miss all the fruitcakes.” 

“I know, dude.” He pouted. “How are Frau's fleas, by the way? Did the medicine work last time?” 

“Sure did, she’s better now. Speaking of which, where is that old hag?” You haven’t seen her since early morning’s commotion. The last time you saw her she was napping by the window of your bedroom.

“Just call me if you notice anything weird. The medicines should be enough while I’m gone.” 

“Leaving already?”

“First thing in the morning, bub.” He said. “I’ll miss you.”

“Frau and I will miss you, too!” And the two of you embraced in another warm hug. When you both pulled back, he helped you pick up the basket of freshly bloomed flowers you had collected for the day and went back inside the house. You had given him the extra jar of lemon iced tea you’ve been saving for a particularly warm day like this. 

~~~

It’s been a whole day that you haven’t seen Fraulein. She usually wanders off hours in a day but she always returns by dinner time. You were starting to worry as the sky slowly turned pitch black. The lampposts turn on, illuminating the streets. You turn the porch lights on, too, and leave her bowl of food and water by the doorstep, in case she decides to come home late into the night. 

~~~~

You wake up to a high-pitched yowling outside. You’re not exactly sure where but you know that sound from anywhere. You bolted down the stairs with your sleeping robe undone and ran towards the lawn. You can’t see anything until you hear it again.

“Nyreooow!”

Soon, a dog howls and you run towards Shohei Ohtani’s house.

You see Fraulein perched on top of Shohei’s porch, her entire back arched defensively, ears twitching backwards. She was hissing at Dusty, who was whimpering loudly below the porch steps and looking terrified. In your panic, you run to the lawn to pick Fraulein up.

“Fraulein! What are you doing here?” 

Dusty continued to bark loudly, trying to come near the door where Fraulein stood. She hissed menacingly at him.

At that exact moment, Shohei Ohtani emerged from the front door, yawning and trying to get sleep out of his eyes. 

“Whazhapeninhere?” He yawned, looking clearly disoriented from suddenly waking up.

“Your dog is trying to attack my cat!” I yelled, trying to go near Fraulein but stepped back as Dusty blocked your way. 

Shohei popped awake as soon as he heard Fraulein hiss at Dusty once more; Fraulein arched her back more and raised her claws in defense.

“Whoa, hey!” Shohei ran up to Dusty and cradled him in his arms like a baby. Poor dog was shaking and whimpering.

“Are you sure it’s not your cat trying to attack my baby?” He raised his voice. He was standing a few feet away from you and looked you up and down, noticing your loose sleeping robe and looking away. 

“Poor baby getting scared by a cat,” He cooed silently, helping Dusty relax.

You walked up the porch when Fraulein hissed and scratched your arms when you picked her up. She wriggled from your grasp but conceded defeat when you scruffed her by the neck, immobilizing her. 

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but please stay away from my cat.” You looked at both Shohei and Dusty sternly. He noticed the scratches on your hands.

“You’re bleeding.” He started.

You looked down on your hands and saw visible red scratch marks. They started from the middle of your arm all the way to the back of your hand.

“I’m fine.” You huffed, trying to walk away as fast as possible. You don’t know what time it was, but it could easily be past midnight. 

“No, wait. Please, I have antiseptic soap inside…” He rushed towards the house, when he looked back and saw you frozen on the steps, he beckoned you and disappeared inside. “Come on.”

You stood there for a moment and contemplated if you should follow Shohei inside. You barely know the guy and every encounter you’ve had with him always ended in a screaming match or a passive-aggressive exchange. He might even be an ax murderer for all you know. A very handsome one, at that. 

“Frau, if something happens to me, please know that I love you.” You held her near your face. “Third drawer by the sink is where I kept all your catnip”. You whispered to her ear and walked towards Shohei Ohtani’s home.

~~~

Shohei Ohtani’s home was, first of all, very clean. It did not reek of anything a dog owner normally would smell like. It had the occasional puppy toys around the living room, but much to your surprise, it was spotless. It also smelled like sweet rose and laundry detergent. You also discovered that just like you, he lives alone. 

Shohei had put Dusty inside a retractable gate to keep him safe from Fraulein as you put her down on the floor. He busied himself looking for his first aid kit. You don’t notice any other pictures on display except him and Dusty and one with his complete family on the refrigerator door. 

His tall frame reappears and he pulls you towards the kitchen sink. You soak your arms under the water and he hands you the antiseptic soap.

“Thanks,” You mumbled. He never left your side and waited until you finished rinsing off, then took your arm and put cream on the scratch marks. He was standing unbelievably close, you could almost see his long eyelashes as he had his head down, concentrating on his self-appointed task. 

He also had his other hand holding you tight, as if to make sure you won’t run off suddenly. 

“I have these at home, you know.” You trained your eyes on his fingers dabbing cream. Don’t look at his arm veins, Y/N. Don’t look at them. Don’t look. Don’t.

“Oh, gee. Why didn’t I think of that?” He mused to which you rolled your eyes. Once again, the magic had worn off. 

“Do you really have to sound sarcastic all the time?”

“C’mon, lighten up.  Besides, it happened on my property so I feel partially responsible–even if it was your cat’s fault.” He shrugged.

You coughed at his accusation. “Fraulein does not instigate fights. She is well-mannered and prim all the time, thank you very much.” You pulled your cream-covered arm away from him. Just then, you notice Fraulein bumping her head on Shohei’s legs, mewling softly.

“How would you then explain the fact where your cat steals Dusty’s bed from the front porch?” He said, crossing his arm, Fraulein on the other hand, was still headbutting Shohei on the legs.

“Oh, she did not.” You retorted. Why would she steal someone’s fray-looking bed when she has her beautiful beige 2-condo tree tower with a capsule nest and dangling balls and a charming basket-weave style oval bed at home? It didn’t make sense. “She only sleeps in the beds I bought her.”

Shohei gives you a funny look and fishes his phone from his pocket. “Well, you’re in for quite a shock, I guess.”

He shoves the phone to you after tinkering with it for a while. “That’s your cat at 30:56 right?”

You look closely, a bit disoriented at what he was trying to show you. CCTV recorded footage of his porch outside where his dog, Dusty, was sitting in his dog bed, playing with his puppy chew ball, when suddenly, you saw Fraulein enter the frame from the left. 

“It doesn’t show anything.” You impatiently looked on, disbelief and denial dripping from you. 

“Oh just you wait.” 

Fraulein was moving slowly, watching Dusty and his toy. A few minutes pass by, the video captures Shohei exiting the front door and Dusty follows him playfully, at which, the dog bed was obviously vacated, and Fraulein took the opportunity to lay on it. 

Shohei cops the phone away and crosses his arms across his chest. “The court finds the defendant guilty.”

It took you a moment but gasped dramatically at the realization. “Was she here the entire day yesterday? Napping on your dog’s bed?” You looked at Fraulein with sheer disapproval. “Fraulein von Hammersmark, that is not how female felines behave.”

Shohei stifled a laugh. He was leaning over his stomach and ears red. “Relax. I don’t mind at all. I think Dusty does, though.” He picks up Fraulein calmly and gives her  scratches on her head. Fraulein purrs loudly. 

“She has been napping here all day since morning and seems to enjoy watching her new neighbor work out in the front lawn.” 

You grimaced, making sure you showed him your disgust. “Ew, weird flex but okay.”

Dusty whimpers as he looks at the scene from outside his gate. You walk over and give him a light pat on the head. “Dusty, blink once if you need help.” 

“Oh, please.” He giggles. “I’m not the weird one for naming my cat Fraulein von Hammersomething.” Shohei returns Fraulein to you, your arms touching, his head closer to yours momentarily. 

“Y/N. I wonder what the weather is on your side. You want to wear something warmer than that?” He pointed at your loose sleeping gown, your legs showing a little bit of your thigh. A little more movement and the knots would dangerously slip out of your waist and reveal your lingerie. 

“Pervert.” You instinctively covered your chest and ran back home, arms carrying Fraulein and the weight of shame for being almost half-naked inside a strange man’s house. 

~~~~

The next few days after that incident were spent with writing articles for an obscure lifestyle website and your part-time work at the bookstore in town, Novel Nook. You ride a 30 minute bus ride to the town square everyday for work and wait 15 minutes in line to grab a cup of coffee from the coffee shop beside it. It doesn’t feel like work at all because you are always surrounded by the books that you love. It took you a long time to realize that working 9-5 in an office cubicle with ugly fluorescent lighting was deteriorating your mental headspace and when your mom passed, you jumped the gun and submitted your intent to resign.

You removed all the baggage you kept from the city and only brought the ones that mattered to you: your cat, your big books, some pretty clothes you never wore in the city but are wearing freely and confidently now, and your memories of your mom. You flew seven thousand miles back home to the place you were meant to be all this time, and you couldn’t be happier and more content. 

You were walking sluggishly back home from a tiring day at work at Novel Nook where two teenagers fought for the last copy of The Hurricane Wars and it took all your energy to de-escalate before they could start pulling each other’s hair. You can’t wait to kick your boots back, hug Fraulein and maybe continue reading a book. 

Your house is on the opposite side of the bus stop so you always (almost begrudgingly) have to pass by Shohei’s house every time. Sometimes it would be quiet with Dusty playing alone on the porch, or Shohei having a barbecue and would always cheerfully waving at you while you just give him a brief nod. Recently, you’ve grown accustomed to seeing Fraulein hanging out in his place more often than you have imagined. She’s like a teenage girl rebelling against her overbearing mother, hanging out with the wrong crowd. After that incident with Dusty, she has claimed dominance on his bed, Shohei had no choice but to buy a new one for his poor dog, while Fraulein smugly walks around in her new territory. 

You had developed some sort of weird neighbor-dynamic with Shohei after that. On days Fraulein had to take her medicine shots that Patrick had given you, you’d walk towards his house and pick her up like some sort of pet daycare. Shohei likes to call it “daddy daycare” as if you’re two divorced parents and he is the cool dad that all the kids love hanging with while you’re the uptight, overbearing mother with full custody and all, that the kids hate. 

“Fraulein, your mom’s here.” Shohei said one day, looking up from his laptop which was perched on the table he had set up on his porch, sitting adjacent to Fraulein. Dusty was chewing on his toy, as usual, and perked up a welcome upon seeing you. 

Fraulein stands and stretches her back and sits back again resting on Shohei’s foot, to which Shohei smirks almost smugly. “She loves her dad more, it seems.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Fraulein. “Stop calling yourself her dad before I burn your house down.”

“Ooh, an arsonist for a neighbor. That’s so sexy, Y/N.” He looked you up and down and wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re too cute to go to jail, though. How about going out with me instead?”

“Piss off. C’mon, Fraulein, time for medicine.” You turned and walked back to your home, trying to keep a straight face at the being called cute with Shohei. You’re too cute. You made the mistake of looking back as you turned to your corner and saw Shohei grinning at you.

This day would be no different as you passed by Shohei’s house today and saw Fraulein napping at the exact same place on his porch. He was working out doing ab crunches on the ground. You decided today, you wouldn’t dare to go on another episode of sarcasm battle with Shohei and go straight home. He was wearing workout clothes of course, with his gym shorts and sleeveless shirt, for all the temptations in the world, this one, you had proudly resisted and warded off like the devil. 

You found Dusty on your lawn, sitting by the patch of grass far from your flowers, thankfully, and staring far ahead into the direction of your home. You patted him and tried to get his attention. Ever since being displaced by Fraulein, he had been giving you frequent visits and play in your yard and you’d give him treats from your secret stash.

“Hey, bud. Were you waiting for me?” He ignored you and continued to look on.

By the door, you can see a tall black figure standing, unmoving. It was a man in a black suit with hands in his pockets. When he turns around, you see a familiar face.  

“No,” You whispered. Jack smiles at you and waves, as if nothing had happened almost a month ago. As if he was just returning from a business trip. Like cheating on you was nothing.

You started panicking and heaving heavily. Dusty senses your fear and barks at Jack when he slowly walks over to you. 

Dusty continued to growl and bark at Jack while you tried to move backward, feet heavy like lead. 

“Stop, don’t come near me, Jack.” you struggled.

“Y/N, I’m here to apologize, for whatever happened, for whatever it made you feel.” He was still slowly walking towards you, eyeing Dusty carefully.

“We have nothing to talk about anymore, Jack. It’s over, in case you forgot.”

“I said come here, you bitch.” He growled. 

At this point, you only realized you were shaking terribly when a hand wrapped on your shoulder, calming you down.

“Are you okay?” It was Shohei’s voice and you have never felt so relieved to hear his voice. You weakly put your arm around his waist and leaned on him. You were still shaking badly, from the exhaustion, or the fear, you couldn’t tell. 

“Is everything okay?” Shohei acknowledges Jack who stopped at around five feet from where you were. 

“We were just discussing something… private.” Jack shifts his eyes between you and Shohei, who was sizing him up and down. Between Shohei, who stood over six feet tall, bulky, and ripped, and Jack, just around five foot nine, body somewhat lean and lanky, Jack didn’t stand a chance. 

Realizing this, you found more comfort and confidence in your plan. You looked up to see Shohei still trying to converse with Jack while keeping a firm arm around you. 

“Shohei.” He looked at you cautiously and tightened his grip on your shoulder. 

Please promise me that you won’t get mad at what I’m about to do.

“What is it, Y/N? Who is this guy?” he said.

“He’s my ex who I want nothing to do with.” He straightened his back but you pulled him by the neck so you could whisper in his ear.

“I’m so sorry, Shohei.” 

“I’m not sure I understand–” He tilted his head in confusion. Jack starts moving forward again, looking almost pissed by just looking at you and Shohei. 

With Shohei still leaning forward, you desperately grabbed his cheeks and pecked him square on the lips. 

Shock induces both Shohei’s and Jack’s faces when you pull back, eyes focused on Jack and hoping to God he’d get the message. Wild red alarms blared and rang loudly in your head, you just kissed Shohei, your hot and annoying neighbor! You just kissed him! You ignored this and focused on the problem at hand. 

“He’s my boyfriend, Jack. Please leave now–” 

Shohei recovers from his shock and kisses you back in bigger, wider and longer strokes of his tongue. The tremors in your body shook harder and you felt your limbs melt into a puddle of water. Shohei’s big warm hands were there to catch you as your knees unbuckled. 

You kissed back and forgot everything that was happening in the background. Dusty barking, Jack’s shell-shocked face, the vehicles passing by the street witnessing your spectacle. You ignored all of this and focused on the way Shohei holds on to your body from your neck, to your back until it rests to the back of your waist, gripping tight, his firm and taut body pressing hard onto you, and his lips sliding over yours so smoothly, stimulating all the senses in your tongue and mouth. 

You don’t know how many seconds passed when you stayed inside that bubble but when you both pulled back for air, Jack was no longer there and Dusty had stopped barking. Instead, he just sat quietly on the ground, waiting for you to finish. 

You stared at Shohei and you stared back at him. Your hand was still on his neck, half-gripping the nape. You slowly let go and pull away. It’s always after the sin that you feel the shame and guilt. 

He doesn’t let go and instead takes you by the shoulder. “Come inside first and we’ll talk.”

You nod wordlessly and follow his lead. You couldn’t walk properly anyway, so you didn’t want to fight back. Your knees felt like jelly and your brain full of fog. That was hot, you thought, but also very wrong.

You sat at Shohei’s dining table chugging a glass of water. By the time you finished, he sat there in front of you and continued looking at you intensely.

In your post-kiss and post-Jack clarity, you’re now too embarrassed to admit the way you handled that situation. But Shohei, being Shohei, seemed unfazed. For the most part, he found it amusing to be part of your ex-boyfriend escape plan, of all the people. 

“A man never listens to a no,” You were too focused on the rim of the glass. You want to look anywhere but Shohei’s mouth. “And I was desperate for him to get away… so I did.. That.”

“Y/N, you were trembling out there. What exactly has he done to you?” He removed the glass from your grip and made you focus on him.

“He… I… He’s an asshole when he gets angry. And I was just scared I wouldn't be able to refuse him. I don’t want him anymore.”

“For someone as arrogant and snappish as you, that’s pretty hard to believe.” You rolled your eyes at him and smirked, lips looking luscious and fuller than the last time. 

“Look, I was probably having a panic attack back there, and I’m okay now, see?” You spread your arms widely, faking a smile at him. You’d like this conversation to end so you could run back to your house and ram your head to the wall. The more you stay in Shohei’s presence, the more embarrassed you feel about wanting and enjoying that kiss. You did. You do. And you want more. 

“I wanted an easy way out, you happened to be there and I grabbed the moment.” You rambled on. “And that kiss, it was just a one-time thing.”

“A one-time thing?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, it was a mistake. We don’t even like each other to kiss, so we can forget about it.”

“Is that right?” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Yes, tomorrow, we act like it never happened, okay?” You stood up and started collecting yourself. You hang by the door and look back, Shohei had his arms crossed against his chest, staring at you. 

“I don’t know, Y/N. That seems pretty unforgettable to me.”

~~~~~

The following morning, you woke up early to visit the farmer's market to replenish your cupboard. You wore black tights over your long beige dress and a gray cardigan. You put your hair down in loose waves today and replaced your contacts with your old prescription eyeglasses. 

Sprawled in front of you were tents and tables of farmers and sellers of freshly harvested fruits and vegetables to your heart’s content. Almost everyone you knew from town was there on a bright day like this. You said your hellos and some, who were avid customers of Novel Nook, asked about the new book releases. Since it is a fairly small town, it is inevitable to spot the ones that you direly wanted to avoid. For example, your ex-boyfriend Jack. 

He was standing one tent away and seemed to just idly window-shopping. You put your head down and try not to meet his gaze or look at his direction as you busy yourself looking through a good bunch of tomatoes. 

“Hey, Y/N.” You put your guard down and suddenly he is in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Trying to… buy some tomatoes?” He sneered, holding a tomato in his hand. “I don’t see your boyfriend around.”

“I…He’s… Can you please stop following me?” Cold sweat ran through your spine as he noticed you fumble, noticing your lie. 

“Lest you forget, I live here, too.” 

“Not in this side of town, you don’t.” You walked away with the bag of tomatoes you purchased. You moved quickly and avoided the throng of people that was starting to build up. 

“I just want us to talk… Y/N. You didn’t give me a chance to explain yesterday.” He continued to follow you, hands behind his back. He was obviously not there to buy tomatoes. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore. Leave me alone or I’ll call the police.” You looked at him sternly, hand gripping tightly on the basket you were holding. One false move and you just might smash his head with a whole pineapple. 

“No boyfriend to come save you now?” Jack chuckled. 

“There you are.” A familiar voice sprung up from behind, and a hand snaked around your waist. Shohei was suddenly beside you, holding on to his own basket of shopping bags.  “I was looking all over for you. Look, I got you blueberries for the cake you were planning to bake. ”

Shohei pinched your sides and smiled, nodding at you to play along with his little act. You forced a wide smile and said, “Wow, yes. You remembered, love? Thank you.”

You both turned to Jack who had a repulsed expression on his face. He coughed up and tried to get back his composure, but it was too late as both of you were already walking away. Shohei did not let go of you even until you turned a corner. You couldn’t care less about shopping anymore as you worried about running into Jack again.

“It looks like your ex is adamant on following you around.” He whispered to your ear, looking back and seeing Jack following far behind. “Care to give him a show, love?” 

You widen your eyes as you realized what was about to happen. 

He moves his head closer to yours and locks you in a wet kiss. He pushed deeper into the kiss when you unconsciously opened your mouth and let him in, mouth and tongue. The smell of clean detergent mixed with a little bit of vanilla filled your lungs, slapping you drunk. The second kiss was just as good as the first. 

Shohei suddenly pulls back from the kiss and offers his hand, and continues walking along like he hadn’t sucked the air out of your body.

For a few more tents, you and Shohei walked around hand in hand in the cold morning, picking fruits and vegetables like your typical neighborhood couple. Many onlookers saw the two of you eating from the free taste section, or arguing about the right vegetable size to buy, or just happily chatting with his hand not letting you go. 

“Shohei, I think Jack’s no longer around.” You motion for him to let go of your hand. 

“Aw, I thought we weren’t acting anymore, the way you were kissing me back there.” He smirks and lets go of your hand, missing his warmth already. 

“I’m only letting your hand go because you look like you’re going to topple over with how heavy this basket is.” He took your groceries from you and led the way. Since you’re practically almost living together, you have no choice but to walk with him awkwardly. 

“Thank you, Shohei.” You said quietly, walking feebly behind him.

“Didn’t catch that, love. What–” He wheels around and stops himself after realizing what he said, the tips of his ears turning red. You tried to keep a straight face but failed as both of you got caught in the moment. 

“Don’t get used to it.” You giggled and skipped your steps, leaving him to carry all the shopping bags he refused to let you carry. 

~~~

You were slowly settling down for the night with a movie on and a bowl of buttered popcorn when you heard a faint knock on the door.

Shohei was standing outside with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. On his feet seems to be a brand new pet backpack carrier.

“Special delivery for one order of queen of meowtown, clingy and fuzzball Fraulein!” He beamed and pointed at the carrier. Fraulein was sitting relaxedly inside. 

“Don’t be shocked or anything but I accidentally bought two of these.” He pointed at the carrier. “I-I thought you’d like to have one for Fraulein. You don’t have to accept it i-if you…”

You smiled as he stammered on. “This looks really cute, I love it.”

Shohei smiled widely and helped push the carrier to your living room. “Then I'll give this as a gift!”

“It would be improper to receive a gift like this...”

“I refuse to accept no, Y/N. Take it please.”

You wanted to mull over it, let it marinate in your head and see what happens but ever since the first two kisses you shared with him, Shohei has been… extra friendly recently. And you were not that kind of “friend”. Whenever you pass his house, he’d go out of his way and talk to you before you walk away. Asking you questions if you’re on the way to the farmer's market, or if you’re on your way to work, if you want to join him for a run. He’s been attentive and you’re not sure what exactly this dynamic has evolved into. You feel uncomfortable about the attention you’re receiving but at the same time, you feel it in your chest and in your stomach and at the tips of your fingers. The fluttering. The tremors and the shakiness of breaths. It’s always there when he’s there. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll take it. But no more other gifts, okay!” You opened the carrier to let Fraulein out who walked idly away and climbed into her tree tower. 

Shohei smiled, nodding. He was about to leave the door when you pulled the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Wait. Um.”

He stepped back and looked inquiringly. You held up a photo from your phone to his face: it was you and Shohei on the day you went to the farmer’s market, holding hands while looking at freshly picked flowers. Shohei’s eyes squinted with laughter, looking intently at you while you were captured trying to explain something trivial. It was quite a beautiful shot sent to you by a cousin who was good at photography. More than that, if you were a stranger looking at a random photo like this, you’d think you were happily in love, and the thought made your chest flutter. 

“It’s quite a small town so it didn’t come as a shock to me when people started noticing whatever this was.” Shohei was still looking at the photo, a small smile drawn on his lips. 

“My mom’s side of the family is setting up a brunch this weekend. I usually bring Patrick to this but they wanted to meet you so…” You trailed.

You coughed and took the phone away. “It’s just a small group of people. And we can always say we broke up after three months or something.”

He cocked his head, looking confused. “Are we still doing the pretending thing with your family?”

“Yeah, I mean. We don’t like each other like that, right? We can just say it didn’t work out after three or four months. They usually move on pretty quickly from the guys I date.”

“Let me get this straight, Y/N.” He said slowly, the Adam’s apple on his throat went up and down as he swallowed. “You want to introduce me to your family as your fake boyfriend on your family brunch.”

You affirmed. “Yes.”

“And we’re going to cook up a reason to break up.”

“Yes.”

“And you said we don’t really like each other that much.”

“Not one bit”

“When we already had two kisses.”

“Yeah.”

“And went on a date in the farmer’s market walking around while holding hands. We kissed twice.”

“It  wasn’t a date.”

“It was to me.” He muttered.

“It was because you were helping me with Jack, remember?”

Shohei sighed exasperatedly, his mood darkened. “Pssh, yeah, whatever. Text me the details. G’night.” He scooted to leave and just like that you were left all alone in a confused daze in your living room. 

~~~

You spent too much time tossing and turning on your bed that night. The voices in your head and the whispers in your heart having an ongoing debate about what had happened a few hours before. 

Shohei was extremely happy, almost beaming like a kid when he brought you his gift but his expression changed after you had the conversation about your family brunch. Maybe you can sit it out this year and make up an excuse that both you and Shohei couldn’t attend? Seasonal allergies? Car getting mauled? Someone’s pet dying? Gods, no. You internally smack yourself for even being near to the thought of either your pets dying, not when they’re the closest thing you have as your best friend and family. You believe Shohei believes that, too. 

And why would Shohei become upset when you proposed the idea of a fake relationship with your family? You started this whole mess and it’s slowly getting out of hand, you want to nip it in the bud so it won’t have to hurt that much later on. It was just a one-time thing, an escape plan until Jack gets out of your hair, then both of you can live as freely as you had before. 

Besides, Shohei doesn’t like you to be that upset. Does he? He’s just a neighbor who likes joking around and annoying you whenever he gets the chance. He also just so happens to be a neighbor that Fraulein spends a lot of time on, he’s just someone to you until recently. 

You touch your fingers on your lips. That kiss shouldn’t mean anything to you because maybe Shohei doesn’t think about it that much either. He’s probably had a good number of girls that he’s kissed with that mouth. Given how good those kisses were, his expertise was undeniably top notch. You’ve never had anything like that before. A kiss that makes your insides tremble with need, almost fairytale like. Something close to what Mia Thermopolis had fantasized before her royal engagement with Nick Devereaux, a kiss that makes your leg pop. That’s what it was. A leg-popping, heart-fluttering, soul-defining kind of a  kiss that you’ll ask for more.

But as much as you want this all for yourself like the next person, you just had your heart broken by Jack. Jack who had promised you the moon and the stars, and a beautiful, dreamy, family with your pets. He had you swooning and dreaming about forever. It was all perfect until that fateful date and the cheating. It hurts to realize that no matter how much you love and do better for a person, they will always look for ways to look at other people. The idea of getting into a relationship right away after what happened with Jack is preposterous at this point. The trust and self-confidence Jack broke is something you want to piece together yourself first. Even if it meant being alone for a couple of months, or years. Who knows.  

You tossed to your side once again, feeling the sleep finally get to you. You dozed off soaking under the thoughts of kittens and kissing a tall man with contagious laughter. 

~~~~

Shohei was filling Fraulein’s food and water bowl dutifully as you had asked, waiting for you to finish preparing for the family brunch in the living room. He had finally succumbed and agreed to go with you as your fake boyfriend, despite his initial feelings towards the arrangement. He still doesn’t understand what was going through your head but he nevertheless had stopped bringing it up. He realized that the more he asked, the more you pushed back and retreated into the dark. He decided that he’d wait for you to soften up. You always do. 

And that’s how the two of you went back to being friendly with each other. 

He was sitting on your living room couch with Fraulein, brushing her fur with his fingers. Just another territory she had claimed: Shohei’s lap. 

“Shohei, help please!” You ran down the stairs, all dolled up. You put your hair down again, this time, you kept it naturally soft and straight. You also donned a yellow sundress that hugged your body, showing off your natural curves. The hems of the skirt go loose from the thighs down. 

“Can you help me zip this up, please?” You said so casually. When you turned around and showed Shohei your bare, unzipped back, he swallowed hard. 

He held your waist lightly and zipped your back slowly, as if taking his time to gape at the bareness of your skin exposed for him. When his breath touched your neck, you felt goosebumps pop. 

“Let’s go.” You smiled too widely for him, trying to act like the oxygen in your house has not depleted. 

Shohei was a hit with your cousins during brunch. Turns out that all of them share the same interests in baseball and baseball teams. They were passionately chatting on one side of the garden area while you helped your Aunt Olivia set up the table.

“He’s quite the personality, Y/N.” She mused.

“Wherever did you find a man like that, Y/N?” Your cousin Evelyn commented, staring back. “Woot, what a view.”

You smiled and looked at Shohei socializing with your family. The moment the two of you entered Aunt Olivia’s home, everyone stared in awe. After introductions were made, Shohei made connections pretty quickly with his bubbly personality. You can also hear his occasional booming laughter from their group.

You were on your way to the kitchen when a hand on your waist suddenly pulled you from behind. Shohei led you to the empty pantry and pushed you back to the wall, his hands up on the wall and caging you.

“Hi?” 

“Hi.” He looked deep into your eyes, like he was looking for something. “Anyplace in this house, we are pretending, yes?”

“Yes, the moment we stepped out of the car. We are boyfriend and girlfriend.” You confirmed.

“Even here?” His lips shadowed lightly on yours, nose grazing yours. 

“Uhm. Yes.” You breathed and that would be your last breath for a while as Shohei kissed you full on the mouth. 

He kissed you frantically, with need and fervor. You put your hands over his shoulders and his hands reached the back of your leg, putting it over his waist. You stifled a moan as he bit your neck and peppered your chest with small kisses. You can’t help but push your hips forward and roll it against his. 

You broke apart like a deer in headlights when you heard footsteps nearby. You pushed Shohei and straightened your clothes. You wiped Shohei’s lipstick-stained mouth and ran away as fast as you could. Shohei, who was as kiss-hungry and love drunk as you were, could only smirk at your retreating form. 

During brunch, you sat with Aunt Olivia on your right and Shohei, by default, on your left side. You were trying to make conversation about the current weather news report while eating your plate of mashed potatoes, all while trying to avoid any contact with Shohei. 

He noticed you have been avoidant after the hot makeout session in the pantry. He put a hand on your thigh under the table, pinching it with reassurance.

“Are we good, Y/N?”

You nodded wordlessly and smiled at him. Something about the way Shohei’s attentiveness always hits you to your core. You’ve never felt this so cared for before that it’s almost bewitching. 

The party started getting up and divided: your aunts and uncles dancing happily on one side, your cousins taking selfies on the other. Meanwhile you and Shohei were left sitting comfortably by the dining table, enjoying the sweet ambiance of everyone around you. 

You held his arm gingerly, almost seductively when you felt his hard muscles from his shirt. A few moments ago, you had almost stripped him naked in the pantry with all of your aunt’s condiments as your audience.

“Why are you so toned? What are you working out for?” You said jokingly, pressing on his biceps in amazement.

“I’m preparing for the next man who tries to steal you.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear. You giggled. 

“No one can take me away from you!” You whispered back, resting your head on his shoulder. You were on your third glass of wine and it isn’t noon yet. You feel tipsy and giggly in the comfort of Shohei’s strong arms. 

“And this is a toast to our new couple, Y/N and Shohei, may this relationship be longer than the last one.” Uncle Ben bellowed, attracting laughter from the rest of the family. They clinked their glasses and toasted for the nth time today. 

You raised your own glass and sipped your wine. 

“Don’t mind them, they’re always like that when I bring a guy to brunch.”

He caressed your thigh and wanted to push the button. “Which guys?”

“Hm? Oh just Jack and Patrick. Although Patrick doesn’t count, because he’s my bestie.” Shohei looked at you and wondered who Patrick may be. He felt a bubbling feeling at the pit of his stomach. Is he jealous? Angry? That he wasn’t the first person you introduced to your family. He shrugged it off. This is just all an act, anyway. Get your shit together, man.

“This may be my favorite brunch ever.” You concluded, finishing the last few drops of your wine. Shohei stole the glass from your hand and replaced it with his. 

“The weather is perfect, the food is great, all of my mom’s family is here. And I don’t feel alone… thanks to you.” You traced circles on the back of Shohei’s palm with your thumb. 

“Why don’t we end this with a bang, Y/N?”

Shohei’s smile invites you to a peck on the lips. He held the back of your head and gently kissed you deeply, slowly this time. You don’t resist and he doesn’t let go. You hear cheers from the background as you kiss softly. Shohei kisses you for the last time today with the hopes that it removes the uncertainty in your mind. That when he kisses you better this time, it would change your mind. He prays to all the gods that would listen.

You melt into the moment and hope it never ceases, because you go back to normal after it ends. After today, you and Shohei will be two separate people once again. And that hurts the deeper parts of you without you realizing it. 

~~~~

Shohei escorted you back home after the brunch. You rode in complete silence all the way. You really really didn’t want it to end but you also didn’t want to drag Shohei into a life that you’re not a hundred percent sure of yet. 

“Thank you for the ride.” You hung back at the entrance and Shohei waited, hoping you’d say something more. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

He sighed. “Wait, Y/N. Is that it?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Are we just gonna go back to the way it was now that you’re done pretending?” He said almost angrily. 

“Well, that’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“That’s your plan. I don’t want this to end. Did you ever wonder why I had agreed to it without asking anything in return? Because I didn’t need to pretend at all. It was all real to me.”

You stood there dumbfounded at the sudden outburst of confession from him. You thought Shohei would be more than willing to go back to his old,  uninvolved life with you. But he was right. You never once stopped to think why he was more than willing to help you get away from Jack, or to help you lie in front of your family. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly when I asked you this…” You blink back tears forming. 

Shohei walks up to you and rests his hands on your shoulders. “I don’t want this to end. Do you?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for all of this, Shohei.” You squeaked, finally finding your voice. 

“You’re the most attentive, thoughtful, and sincerest man I’ve ever been blessed to meet. Even I get breathless thinking how lucky I’d be if I let you in…

“This whole fake dating thing was a mess. I shouldn’t have dragged you into my problems.”

“Y/N. Please don’t shut me out. Let me in, I’d go to the trouble of warding off your ex-boyfriend if I need to. I’ll be here for whatever.” Shohei begged. You shook your head firmly.

“I’m not ready yet, Shohei. I loved every moment I have spent with you, but I need to be with myself for now.” 

Shohei dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back, his eyes glistening with tears. 

“See you around, then.”

You watched him walk away until he disappeared into his home. You closed your door and plopped down on the floor. The tears that you were holding back came gushing out, and finally you were bawling. You didn’t cry this hard when Jack cheated on you but when you saw Shohei walking away because of your own doing, you felt like your world had collapsed. You wept until there were no tears left to cry, until the only pain you have left to bear was the hollowness of what Shohei left. You crawled into a ball by the door, clothes unchanged, makeup running down your face. Fraulein snuggles up to you minutes after, sharing her warmth.

Looks like it's just you and me again, Fraulein. 

In the next couple of weeks, you would rise early to tend to your plants, volunteer additional hours in Novel Nook so you could get home later than usual, and avoid the farmer’s market. You added wearing a baseball cap or large hats as a new fashion ensemble to steer away from eye contact at the risk of bumping into Shohei. The thing  is, your efforts to avoid him were reduced to nil as you bumped into him everywhere you went. When you throw out the trash as early as five o'clock in the morning, he’d be there, warming up or jogging on your path.  When you went to the farmer's market later than usual, he was also there doing after-rush hour shopping. Even administering Fraulein’s medicine time was an arduous task seeing that she still hangs around Shohei’s porch, not understanding your human conflict and emotions towards each other. 

There are days when you feel better and the sun is shining, but there are also moments when you catch yourself at the brink of a breakdown. It takes a while for the loneliness to settle in like an unwanted guest, creeping over your shoulder, sometimes hugging you at night. It wasn’t this hard before you met Shohei, so how was it different now?

“All good, Y/N?” You lost your train of thought at the voice of Aunt Olivia. You couldn’t bear the loneliness and the quiet of your home that you packed your stuff and stayed for a week’s worth of vacation. She joined you in the indoor kitchen table, where you were having your mid-afternoon coffee. 

“Boy problems?” she suggested. One look from you and she already knew. 

“Aunt Liv, how do you know if you’re ready to love again?” You said after a moment of silence. 

“You don’t.” She smiled and cupped your hands. “You fuck around then find out.”

She chuckled to herself. “You remind me so much of your mom. She was always scared of trivial matters, like falling in love.

“But when she had a good taste in it, she never looked back.”

Aunt Liv has always been fond of her little sister. Your mom. And hearing these words from her, reminiscent of how she had been when she was your age, twinged at your heart a little bit. 

“I’m not the one who’d pry on your relationships, Y/N. But he’s a keeper, that boy. I thought he was joking at first, but he seems to be serious about it.”

You knitted your eyebrows together. “What do you mean by that?”

“He said something when I got him alone that day. He’d said, you were tougher than a potato under hot water. But he’s willing to wait for you to soften up no matter how hot it gets.”

Leave it to Shohei to drop potato metaphors to your relatives on their first meeting. 

“When a man like that comes around, I won’t ever let him go. You’re lucky if you ever meet the same kind of man twice.”

You pondered on about Aunt Liv’s advice for the rest of the day; by nighttime, you felt an epiphany dawn upon you. The next day, you packed up and went home earlier than you had planned. 

“Go get him, bubba.” Aunt Liv wished you luck. You’ll need all the luck you can get and hope it wasn’t too late. 

It took you approximately an hour to get home by taxi, the car zigzagging across the street. 

You don’t know why you were rushing. He wasn’t going anywhere, not to your knowledge. He will always be right where you left him but something inside you was telling you that a second more that you’re away from home, and you’d lose him. 

You were trying to catch your breath as you ran on your side of the street when you bumped into Shohei leaving your front lawn, a pail and shovel over his shoulders.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He was covered in dirt from the knee up, his white shirt sticking to his body and full of sweat. He looked a little shocked and panicked at being caught mid-exit from your garden. 

“I should ask you the same question. What were you doing in my lawn?” You tried to take a peek but Shohei covered your path with his wide body. “Did you bury a body there?”

“I think that’s a good idea for your fertilizer, Y/N!” He seemed a little agitated and making offbeat jokes to distract you. 

“Step away. What did you do to my garden?” You pushed him with all the adrenaline coursing through you and jogged towards your front lawn, expecting a murder crime scene or worse, a decaying garden. 

Instead, you saw hundreds of tulips in different shades and colors spread all throughout your garden. Purple and yellow tulips lined up the path towards your home. Red and pink tulips danced in the background, swaying every time a soft breeze brushed through. 

“You’re not supposed to see it yet. I thought you’d be back tomorrow night.” Shohei said, rubbing the nape of his head, embarrassed at being caught.

“You remembered when I said… At the farmer’s market…” You stammered.

“Yes, you went on and on about how much you love tulips.” You suddenly remembered the photo before the brunch party. How Shohei was looking fondly at you as he listened to you rambling on about something trivial. It wasn’t trivial to him because it was important to you. And he remembered. 

You turned around and faced him. You held out a hand and wiped a bit of sweat off of his face. “Did you do all of this… on your own?”

He nodded shyly. “That’s not all, though.” He whistled and called Dusty.

“You’re the most stubborn and one hell of a fiery woman. But you’re also the sweetest, softest, clingiest woman I’ve lucked out on. You’re so beautiful sometimes it hurts. After that second kiss, I knew right away that I’d have to fight tooth and nail for you to keep needing and wanting me."

Dusty bursted out of Shohei’s garden stringing along a reluctant Fraulein scruffed by the neck. Both of them were wearing cute red bow ties on their neck each laced with individual messages. 

You pulled Dusty’s message and read, “I want to call you “mom” so will you be my dad’s girlfriend?

You squealed in delight as you unraveled the next message pinned on Fraulein’s bow tie: “I loved him first but can you keep him forever?”

You swooned and laughed at the corniness and the teeth-rotting sweetness. You can’t help but jump into Shohei’s arms and give him a big hug despite all the sweat and grime on his body. 

“Ew, you got all your sweat on me.” You playfully joked at the parting.

“Hmm, you have no choice but to shower with me now.” He lifted you by the waist and carried you on top of his shoulders, both of you laughing and shrieking like newly weds on honeymoon, Dusty and Fraulein at your tails. 

.This place, this scene, and this warmth spreading through your chest up to your fingertips, all of it and the familiarity of it, you realized, is the only thing you need to live a lifetime of love and happiness. You were wondering where it was all this time and you understand now that it had been right beside you all along.

[book-girl4evaaa]

☄ Girl go ahead let your hair down ☄

"Music just does things to people"

- Riyani

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"somewhere only we know"

01:57 ━━━━●───── 02:39ㅤ ㅤ

◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡

I was twinning with turtle but she deactivated :(

First of all rp blogs so you know who I am 😭 @ask-the-great-heather-chandler @athenas-weirdo-daughter

@ book-girl4eva -> @ book-girl4evaaa

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{ is it just me or is this looking aesthetic as heck? }

Call me Bea or Eva (I like Bea better tho) ⸙ minor ⸙ libra ⸙ geeky ⸙ Athena Cabin ⸙ overuses the ✨ emoji ⸙ book lover ⸙ bilingual, biracial, biromantic bish ⸙ ace most likely ⸙ free Palestine ⸙ British, unfortunately (🥄) ⸙ major Gracie Abrams fan ⸙ Infp-t personality ⸙ ambivert ⸙ African pride ⸙ theatre kid ⸙pepper soup enthusiast ⸙ writer ⸙ artist ⸙ religion is.... complicated but leaning towards agnostic⸙ singer (sort of) ⸙nerd ⸙dancer ⸙ fangirl ⸙sport-lover ⸙ daydreamer ⸙ hopeless romantic ⸙ future designer ⸙ glasses gang ⸙ arsonists ⸙ tag me in poetry! ⸙ green, blue and purple>>> ⸙ chaotic good ⸙ in a world of heathers be a Veronica ⸙

I'm always ready to make new friends (no creeps, please) so please talk to me!

Dislikes/Dni: Zionists ☄ creeps ☄ misogynists ☄ sexists ☄ racists ☄ homophobes ☄ transphobes ☄ bigots of any kind ☄ eating mushrooms ☄ geography ☄ mean people ☄ Monday mornings

Gracie! 👏 Abrams! 👏 on! 👏 top! 👏

☄ maybe you'll loose but at least you'd have loved, maybe you'll fear but at least you'd have flew ☄

If you need someone to blurt random facts, then I'm your girl! Feel free to give me nicknames and chat about random stuff :)

Nicknames: Beatrice (by Turtle I miss her :() Beanie (by Shree) Belle (by Tina) Bee (by Myna and Fishy) Bea Bee (by Loife) Bumble Bee (by Ife mi <3333 (archivist)) Bear (by Kitcat) Beezus (by Riyana)

Also, send me asks, please :)

Moots!

Fandoms I'm active in: Pjo, Tpq, Kotlc, Gilded, Hamilton, Amari and the night brothers, the hunger games, six of crows, the folk of the air, heathersssssssssssssssss and many more!

I can speak English, yr 8 level Spanish, tiny bits of Hindi and a few insults in yuroba

DNI if you are: a Zionist, a creep, a misogynist, sexist, racist, homophobic, transphobic, or just mean/disrespectful.

personal tags: #all abt bea - random posts and my life, unlikely to show up all that much #bea answered - answering an ask :) #bea writes <3 - self explanatory #bea updates - shitposting

☄ Maybe they'd be less broken if you let them heal ☄

Side blogs:

@book-girlswhispers (idk Im just vibey and writey on there)

@step-into-my-candystore (my heathers/musical blog)

@she-used-to-bea-mine (my vent blog)

So have a good day, be kind, and love yourself<333

This blog supports Palestine

If you don't, please leave me alone :)

Don't forget your daily clicks!

Byeee! <333

Dividers and pfp from Pinterest Pinterest

I hope you enjoyed my ✨ extremely aesthetic ✨ intro post!

[noralia20]

Unsaid... (Brian May)

Words count : 12k

Sum up : You never really talked about your family. But after a traggic event, everything comes back to you and you have no choice but to explode and tell your lover.

London, 1979. The city bustled with energy and a sense of renewal, the air crisp with the promise of winter. The streets were adorned with twinkling lights, shop windows displaying festive cheer, and a gentle snowfall added a touch of magic to the scene. Despite the chill, your heart was warm, brimming with a joy that surpassed anything you had ever known.

You had been dating Brian May, the iconic guitarist of Queen, for the past six years. It felt surreal sometimes, but it was your reality—a beautiful one at that. Brian was the love of your life, a beacon of light in your otherwise tumultuous past. Your relationship was a sanctuary, a place where love, trust, and mutual respect flourished. You shared everything with him, your dreams, your fears, your daily musings. Well, almost everything.

There was one part of your life that remained untouched by Brian's understanding gaze—your past. It was a shadowy place, filled with hurt and memories you had no desire to revisit. You had never spoken of it, and somehow, Brian knew not to pry. He respected your boundaries, and for that, you loved him even more.

This winter was special. Queen had just released "Don't Stop Me Now," a song that quickly climbed the charts and became a new anthem for many. The boys were ecstatic, their hard work paying off in spades. The success called for a celebration, a moment to bask in their achievement and let loose. For once, Brian wasn't consumed by tours, recording sessions, or interviews. He was taking a well-deserved break, choosing to spend his time with friends, family, and most importantly, you.

To celebrate the success of 'Don't Stop Me Now', you all decided to gather at Fred's house for a relaxed evening. The prospect filled you with happiness, especially since it meant spending time with Veronica and Dominique. Perhaps Mary would be there too, given her amicable terms with Freddie. As you stood in front of the mirror, attempting to tame your hair, Brian waited patiently for you, ready to head out.

Winter always held a bittersweet place in your heart. While it brought the joy of the holidays and moments like these with friends, it also reminded you of colder times spent alongside your family. One particular night stood out, etched in your memory like a scar that hadn't quite healed.

You remembered the biting chill creeping through the cracks of the walls, the frost painting intricate patterns on the windowpanes. It was a night filled with tension, the kind that freezes the air and stills the breath. Your family, wrapped in their own turmoil, seemed distant and unreachable. That night, words were left unspoken, wounds left unattended, and you found yourself retreating into a cocoon of solitude, seeking warmth where there was little to be found.

As you adjusted your hair in the mirror, a pang of longing mixed with apprehension washed over you. Winter had a way of stirring up buried emotions, reminding you of what you had left behind and what you had chosen to keep hidden. Yet, in Brian's reassuring presence and the anticipation of a cozy gathering at Fred's, there was a glimmer of hope, a chance to thaw the icy memories that still haunted you.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the mirror, meeting Brian's gaze with a soft smile. He reached out, his hand finding yours, a silent understanding passing between you. Tonight, amidst the warmth of friends and the glow of shared success, you hoped to forge new memories that would overshadow the chill of winters past.

"Hey, ready to go?" Brian asked softly, his smile revealing those endearing little fangs you had come to love. When you first met, he had been insecure about them, but over time, you helped him learn to embrace and accept every part of himself.

You took a few steps closer, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek, a gesture that required a bit of effort given his towering height of 1.87 meters. "As always. Let's go before Fred scolds us and we never hear the end of it," you teased lightly.

Brian chuckled quietly, knowing all too well the playful antics of his friend Fred. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he led the way out the door, the promise of a warm gathering and cherished company awaiting you both at Fred's house.

During the drive, Brian was enthusiastically explaining the intricate process of creating music. His eyes sparkled with passion as he spoke, and you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride for him. Yet, despite your efforts to stay engaged, your mind kept wandering, and then a flashback hit you like a truck.

"Luke, you can't just live off this!" The living room was filled with screams and shouts, a cacophony of frustration and desperation echoing through the small space. It was a cold February night, the kind that seeped into your bones and stayed there. The flickering candlelight cast long, dancing shadows on the walls, turning the scene into a surreal, almost dreamlike tableau.

Your throat burned from the relentless screaming and arguing, the words spilling out like an unstoppable torrent. This wasn't what you had envisioned when you and your brother escaped, hoping for a new life. The promise of a fresh start had seemed so tantalizingly close, yet here you were, caught in the same cycle of conflict.

"You don't understand, Y/N! It's only the beginning. We can make really good money," Luke pleaded, desperation lacing his voice as he stepped into the living room. But you were too blinded by anger to hear the hope in his words, too consumed by your own frustration to recognize his struggle.

"Oh, now I don’t understand? What I do understand is that you just dropped out of university, sold my car, and all of that for what? To buy a stupid guitar because Mr. Luke is in a band now," you mocked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Luke's face flushed with frustration, his jaw tightening as he struggled to keep his composure.

"Where’s this going, Luke?" you continued, your tone sharp and unyielding. He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "Let me tell you where this is going. Nowhere. Right into the wall. This… music isn’t bringing you anywhere."

Luke’s fists clenched at his sides, the tension radiating from him as he listened to your harsh words. His eyes flashed with a mix of anger and helplessness, but you were too consumed by your own fury to notice.

"This isn’t what I had pictured when I told you we should run away from the house," you pressed on, your voice trembling with emotion. "We agreed that we would work through it together."

Luke seemed to shrink before you, his shoulders sagging under the weight of your accusations. "And we are—" he began, but you cut him off again.

"No, we're not," you snapped. "What you just did was a selfish move, Luke. It was about you and not us. If it was about us, you wouldn’t have thrown your studies away."

He looked utterly defeated, the spark of hope that had fueled his dreams now dimmed by your relentless onslaught.

"And have you ever cared about what I wanted?" he mumbled from behind you, his voice barely audible but loaded with emotion.

Those words sent you over the edge. Without thinking, you turned around and struck him across the face. Luke stumbled back, his hand flying to his cheek in disbelief. The shock in his eyes mirrored the immediate regret that washed over you.

"Luke, I'm so sor—"

"You're just like Dad," he interrupted, his voice cold and final. The words cut deeper than any physical blow. Grabbing his bag and guitar, he shoved past you.

"Luke, wait!" you cried, desperation seeping into your voice. But he was already heading for the main door.

You ran after him, ignoring the icy bite of the pavement beneath your bare feet. The cold air stung your lungs, but all you could think about was stopping him. Luke was already on his bike, pedaling furiously down the alley.

"No, no, no!" you screamed, pushing yourself to run faster. But he was too quick. As he turned onto the main street, you tripped, falling hard onto the cold ground. Pain shot through your knees and palms, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were locked on Luke as he continued to roll away without looking back.

You lay there, helpless and heartbroken, watching him disappear into the distance. The realization of what you'd done settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable. Tears blurred your vision as you begged him to stay, your voice hoarse and desperate.

“Y/N... Y/N?” Brian's soothing, soft voice called you back to reality. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, and turned your head to the side. Brian was looking at you with concern from the driver’s seat, the glow of the red light casting a soft hue across his face.

“O-Oh, sorry. What were you saying?” you asked, your voice still a bit shaky as you tried to reorient yourself to the present.

Brian studied you carefully, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what had been troubling you. He repeated himself, speaking slowly and deliberately, “I was saying: I hope the song will work out.”

You forced a smile, pushing the dark memories back into the recesses of your mind. “Of course it will. You guys are legends. I’ve heard the song multiple times, and I’m sure it’ll be timeless.”

Brian smiled at your answer, but the uncertainty in his eyes lingered. He could sense something was off, though he chose not to press the issue. Instead, he reached over and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Brian knew it happened quite often during this time of the year. You seemed always absent, a part of you perpetually searching for something or someone to appear. When you walked the streets, your eyes would scan the crowds reflexively, as if expecting a familiar face to emerge from the sea of strangers. At shows, backstage, you'd often find yourself studying the audience, your gaze lingering on each person as if waiting for one specific figure to materialize.

There were nights when Brian would find you awake, staring out the living room window with a cold cup of tea forgotten in your hands. Your eyes would wander, filled with a quiet yearning that spoke of an absence you couldn’t quite place. It was as if your very soul was looking, longing for something or someone that wasn’t there.

Brian had noticed this pattern over the years. As winter set in, your demeanor would change, and you became more introspective, more distant. But he never pressed you about it, respecting the boundaries you had set. He understood that there was a part of your past you weren't ready to share, a shadow that came alive with the cold.

He tried to offer comfort in small ways—through a gentle touch, a comforting word, or just being there when you needed him. He wanted to be your anchor, your safe harbor during these turbulent times. And he hoped that one day, you would feel ready to share that hidden part of yourself with him.

As winter melted into spring, Brian watched the change in you. The somber cloud that hung over you during the colder months would lift, and the vibrant, joyful person he loved would reemerge. Life would go on as always, the shadows of the past retreating once more into the background.

Brian finally parked the car in front of Freddie’s house. As you reached for the door handle, his warm hand and long fingers gently stopped you. Confusion flickered across your face as you turned to look at him, only to see a sight you hated: worry etched into his expression. You despised causing concern, especially for someone as dear to your heart as Brian. And then he asked the question that made your heart squeeze even tighter.

"Are you okay?" His voice was gentle, his concern palpable.

The simplicity of those words carried a weight you struggled to bear. Of course, you should be okay. Why wouldn't you be? Because you hadn’t seen your brother in seven years? Because he seemed to despise you, echoing the rift with the rest of your family? Because, in a way, you felt like an orphan now? But no, you couldn’t burden Brian with those thoughts. He deserved your strength, not your vulnerabilities.

You forced a small smile, hoping it would reassure him. "Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry," you replied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "The weather tires me lately," you added as an excuse, hoping to deflect his concern.

Brian took a moment to study you with his hazel eyes, his gaze lingering on your face as you attempted to reach for the door handle again. The concern in his expression was evident, and it made your breath catch in your throat. You knew he could sense when something was amiss, and the thought of burdening him with your inner turmoil weighed heavily on you.

"But... would you tell me if you weren't?" he asked quietly, his voice gentle but tinged with worry.

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Truth be told, you knew you wouldn't tell him. Not because you didn't trust him—Brian was indeed the person you trusted most—but because you couldn't bear to see the hurt and helplessness in his eyes. It was easier to pretend everything was fine, to shield him from your own pain.

"Of course I would," you replied softly, mustering a smile that felt brittle on your lips. "You're the person I trust most."

It wasn't a complete lie. You did trust Brian with your heart, but there were depths within you that even he hadn't fully explored. There were wounds you carried silently, scars from a past that still haunted you. And while Brian had seen glimpses of your struggles, you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the full weight of your pain.

"Let's go?" you suggested, hoping to shift the focus away from the tension that hung between you.

Brian nodded slowly, releasing your hand with a reluctant squeeze. His eyes held a mix of understanding and lingering concern, but he respected your choice not to delve deeper. Together, you walked towards Freddie’s house, the soft glow of warmth and laughter beckoning from within.

You looked at Brian as he paused at the door, a loving smile spreading across his face before he rang the bell. As you stood beside him, he draped an arm around your waist, drawing you close with a gentle pull. Your heart fluttered at his touch, and you couldn't help but suppress a giddy smile as you looked up at him.

Brian returned your gaze with warmth and affection, his hazel eyes sparkling. Leaning in, he kissed you sweetly, the moment filled with tenderness and a shared intimacy. Just as the kiss deepened, the door swung open, revealing a grinning Freddie.

You both pulled apart abruptly, caught in a moment that felt both exhilarating and slightly embarrassing. Freddie’s teasing raised eyebrow only added to the amusement of the situation. "Well, hello to you too, darlings," Freddie greeted with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, clearly enjoying the sight before him.

You felt your cheeks warm with a blush, feeling momentarily like a teenager caught in a secret moment. Quickly regaining your composure, you took a step forward and greeted Freddie properly. "Hello, Freddie," you said with a smile, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of Brian's touch and the playful glint in Freddie's eyes.

Freddie hugged you back warmly, his voice low as he whispered teasingly in your ear. "If you two really can't keep your hands off each other, remember I have a spare room upstairs. Just don't be too loud for the kids."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and your cheeks flushed crimson, a blush that could rival a traffic signal. You turned to Freddie, pretending to be outraged, and playfully hit his arm. "Freddie!" you exclaimed in mock indignation, though the playful grin tugged at your lips.

Brian, standing beside you, looked between you and Freddie with a mixture of confusion and amusement. He chuckled softly, clearly catching on to the good-natured banter between you and Freddie.

"Oh, but you must be freezing! Come on in!" Freddie said warmly, guiding you both inside.

The immediate sounds of laughter greeted your ears, a lively mix of adults and children enjoying themselves. You shrugged off your coat, hanging it neatly by the door before following Freddie towards the living room.

You hadn’t even had a chance to introduce yourself properly before a small figure came running over to hug your legs. It was Robert, John and Veronica’s lively three-year-old son. Not far behind him toddled Michael, who had just turned one. The sight of their innocent joy brought an immediate smile to your face.

"Hey, bud! It's nice to see you too!" you exclaimed warmly, kneeling down to greet Robert. He squealed with delight and threw his arms around you in a tight hug. You laughed, feeling Brian’s amused gaze on you as he watched the interaction.

Brian joined in the fun, bending down to Robert's level. "Hey, Rob, how's it going?" he asked with a grin.

Robert glanced up at Brian, his face lighting up. "Uncle Fred was ranting that you two were always late," he declared with all the seriousness a three-year-old could muster.

You chuckled at Freddie’s antics, knowing exactly the kind of playful teasing he was capable of. "Robert Deacon! You little traitor," Freddie boomed in a mock deep voice, tickling the boy’s sides playfully.

Robert giggled uncontrollably, squirming in Freddie’s grasp. The room filled with laughter, the playful banter easing any lingering tension.

"You have quite the spy network here, Freddie," you teased, standing up and brushing off your knees. Freddie grinned mischievously. "Always good to have informants," he quipped, earning a playful swat on the arm from Brian.

Together, you and Brian finally made your way over to the group seated on the couches. Mary was already there, chatting animatedly with John and Veronica, who were nestled comfortably with their children nearby. The Deacons were also present, leaving only Dominique and Roger yet to arrive.

"I see we're not the only ones late," Brian remarked, drawing the attention of your friends. They greeted you warmly, and you ushered Veronica to sit back down, considering she was now five months pregnant with baby number three.

In the background, the TV played the news quietly, a mundane backdrop to the lively gathering. John, ever the curious one, leaned forward slightly and asked with a hint of teasing, "What took you guys so long?"

Brian glanced at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes before answering, "Well, Y/N here wasn't satisfied with her hair."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Says you! You spent an hour in the bathroom taming yours, Mister May," you retorted, your tone teasing and light-hearted.

Laughter rippled through the room at your banter, the familiar sound of friends enjoying each other’s company filling the air. The tension from earlier melted away, replaced by the warmth of shared jokes and affectionate teasing.

Mary leaned forward with a smile, pouring Brian a glass of wine and teasingly adding, "Someone's got to keep up appearances." Brian mockingly feigned offense, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged," he admitted with a grin, earning another round of chuckles from the group.

As you all chatted and caught up, the atmosphere was relaxed and filled with camaraderie. Finally, Roger and Dominique arrived, their presence adding to the lively energy of the gathering. Roger, ever the epitome of cool in his leather jacket and sunglasses, grinned as he greeted everyone.

Roger's casual demeanor earned him a playful scolding from Freddie about their tardiness, to which Roger responded with a nonchalant shrug and a wink.

With everyone now assembled, the dynamics of the group fell into place seamlessly. Roger and Freddie bantered back and forth, their teasing laced with fondness and familiarity. Brian played the role of the calm mediator, injecting humor when needed to diffuse any escalating jokes. John observed the interactions with a quiet amusement, occasionally chiming in with his own dry wit.

Amidst the cheerful chaos, Dominique caught your eye and gestured discreetly towards the garden. Understanding her silent invitation, you quietly excused yourself along with Mary, Veronica, and Dominique, slipping out of the lively room and into the calm of the garden.

Outside, the air was crisp and cool, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded room. You found a secluded corner of the garden, away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears. Surrounded by the soft glow of garden lights, you exchanged knowing glances with the other women.

In the peaceful solitude of the garden, surrounded by the quiet rustling of leaves and the gentle glow of garden lights, the conversation turned to more personal matters. Mary's voice carried genuine concern as she asked, "So, what's on your mind?"

Veronica smiled warmly, her hand tenderly resting on her growing belly as she sighed softly. "I just needed a moment away from the noise," she admitted, her expression softening with a hint of relief. "And to catch up with you all."

Dominique nodded in agreement, her thoughtful gaze scanning the garden as she spoke quietly. "It's good to have these moments," she reflected. "To remind ourselves of what's important."

You felt a surge of gratitude for these women, for their understanding and unwavering support in both the joyful and challenging moments of life. As you exhaled into the chilly night air, you added, "I think it's important for the boys. They're constantly together. But they also have us, and we're all in this together, you know."

Mary and Dominique nodded in understanding, their expressions reflecting solidarity and empathy.

Turning her attention to Veronica, Mary gently asked, "So, Veronica, are you feeling alright?" Her eyes drifted to Veronica's hand brushing over her bump.

Veronica's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Never been better," she replied warmly. "I hope it's a girl. John would love a girl, though he would never admit it, frankly."

You couldn't help but smile at the thought. "John would be such a daddy's girl," Dominique added with a chuckle, imagining the stoic John softened by the love of a daughter.

As the conversation continued, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. Here, in the quiet embrace of friendship and shared moments, surrounded by the supportive presence of these remarkable women, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together.

Veronica's playful comment about weddings and babies nudged the conversation into more personal territory. She winked at Dominique and you, her warmth and teasing nature filling the air.

"You know Rog, he loves freedom too much for now. But trust me, I'm working on it," Veronica added with a knowing smile.

You chuckled nervously, feeling a slight tension knotting in your stomach. The idea of starting a family had always been a complicated topic for you, especially given your own tumultuous past. What if Brian wanted children one day? Could you give him that future he might dream of, or would your uncertainties hold you both back?

"Me?" you replied, forcing a smile. "You know me, Veronica. I can't even picture what I'm going to eat for dinner. So, I'll just let the future come when it's ready."

Your attempt at humor masked the deeper concerns swirling inside you. Veronica's next question, however, cut through the light-hearted banter and struck a chord.

"But are you ready for the commitment, Y/N? Because I see how Brian looks at you. It's as serious as it was years ago," Veronica pressed gently, her tone thoughtful and sincere.

You glanced over at Brian, who was engrossed in conversation with Roger and John, his expression animated and relaxed. The love and adoration in his eyes were unmistakable, and a warmth spread through your chest at the sight of him.

"I... I think so," you replied softly, your voice wavering slightly. "Brian means everything to me, Veronica. I just... I want to make sure I can give him everything he deserves." Dominique placed a comforting hand on your arm, her gaze filled with understanding. "Y/N, it's okay to have doubts. It's okay to take your time," she reassured you gently.

Mary nodded in agreement, her voice kind but firm. "Just remember, whatever path you choose, we're all here for you. Brian loves you, and that's what matters." Veronica smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting unwavering support. "You'll figure it out, Y/N. And when you do, we'll be here to celebrate with you."

After a while of chatting in the garden, you all returned inside the house, only to find that the boys were no longer in the living room. Instead, the sound of their voices drifted from the kitchen. Curious, you and the other women exchanged glances and quietly followed the sound.

As you approached the kitchen, you could hear snippets of their conversation. "What about Bri, meet the family to finally ask her hand?" Roger's voice came through clearly, causing you all to freeze in place just outside the doorway. Fortunately, none of you had entered the room yet, and it seemed the boys hadn't noticed your arrival either.

"What an ungraceful way to speak of a proposal," Freddie remarked with a hint of mock seriousness. Brian hadn't spoken yet, but his silence spoke volumes despite his usual easygoing nature. You felt a flutter of nervousness mixed with excitement in your chest.

"Come on, Bri, don't be shy. We all know how much you love her. You were already planning on marrying her before you even asked her out," John reassured Brian, his voice gentle and supportive.

Inside, your heart skipped a beat. You leaned in slightly, trying to catch every word, your emotions swirling with a mixture of surprise and joy. It was both overwhelming and heartwarming to hear them discussing such a significant step.

Mary glanced at you with a knowing smile, her eyes filled with understanding and encouragement. Dominique squeezed your hand gently, silently conveying her support.

Veronica leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper as she murmured, "Looks like our boys are planning something big." You nodded slowly, unable to tear your gaze away from the kitchen door.

As you stood outside the kitchen, listening to Brian's heartfelt words about your relationship and the hurdles he faced, your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. His voice, tinged with a mix of longing and frustration, cut through you like a knife. You had carefully guarded the painful memories of your past, shielding them from Brian and everyone else. The thought that your reluctance to open up was causing him such anguish tore at your heart.

"I know I do, but like Rog said, I want to meet her family and she’s so closed to the subject," Brian confessed, his voice laden with vulnerability. You felt a pang of guilt knowing that your avoidance of discussing your family history had put him in this position.

"Still?" Roger's surprised exclamation echoed in the kitchen. It dawned on you that Brian had likely confided in his friends about his desire to take the next step in your relationship, a step that involved meeting your family.

"I mean, I know she’s uncomfortable talking about it. But I... I thought that after so many years, she would open up," Brian continued, his disappointment palpable in his tone. The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders, filling you with a profound sense of remorse.

"That hurts like shit, you know? It’s like she’s not on the same page as me. That makes me doubt when I should propose," Brian admitted, his words piercing straight to your core. The realization that your silence was causing Brian pain left you feeling utterly helpless.

The girls exchanged apologetic glances, understanding the depth of your turmoil. Mary placed a comforting hand on your arm, her eyes filled with sympathy. Dominique squeezed your hand gently, offering silent support.

Inside the kitchen, the conversation continued, oblivious to the turmoil it had caused you. You struggled to find the right words, the knot in your throat constricting your ability to respond. How could you explain the scars of your past, the reasons behind your reluctance, without reopening old wounds?

In that moment, surrounded by the loving concern of your friends and the distant murmur of Brian's conflicted thoughts, you felt torn apart. You wanted nothing more than to ease Brian's pain, to reassure him of your love and commitment. Yet, the fear of reliving past traumas held you back, trapping you in a cycle of silence and guilt.

The girls understood you just wanted the moment to end as you stared into space. So Dominique faked a laugh and entered with Veronica playing along as if they had heard nothing from before. The weight of Brian's words lingered heavily in your mind as you re-entered the kitchen with Mary's supportive squeeze. Dominique and Veronica seamlessly shifted the conversation, their easy banter providing a welcome distraction from the emotional turmoil you were grappling with.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before approaching Brian. Despite wanting to show affection, you kept a safe distance, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. His confusion was evident, but he played along, perhaps sensing your need for space.

As the group chatted, your thoughts continued to drift back to the conversation you overheard earlier. The pain of your family's betrayal and the scars it left were raw and unyielding. You couldn't help but feel like your trauma was casting a shadow over your present happiness, threatening to rob you of the love and joy you found with Brian.

Your brother's face flashed in your mind once more. You wondered how he was doing, whether he had found peace or was still haunted by the past like you were. The longing to reconcile, to apologize and seek forgiveness, gnawed at your heart. If only you could have one more chance to make things right, to hold him close and say the words you never had the courage to say before.

Lost in your thoughts, you struggled to stay present in the conversation. Brian's concerned gaze occasionally flickered towards you, his expression reflecting his confusion and concern. You knew he sensed something was amiss, but you couldn't find the words to explain the storm raging inside you.

The kitchen buzzed with laughter and conversation, but for you, it felt like you were drowning in a sea of unresolved emotions and regrets. You wanted to break free from the grip of your past, to heal and move forward with Brian by your side. But the wounds were deep, and the fear of confronting them seemed insurmountable.

Brian's concerned touch on your hand brought you back from the tumultuous thoughts that had been plaguing you. With effort, you managed to muster a half-smile and gently squeeze his hand in reassurance before refocusing on the light-hearted debate about the gender of the future Deacon.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself in the living room once more, the comfortable ambiance and the gentle buzz of champagne providing a temporary respite from your inner turmoil. You sipped on your second glass, enjoying the warmth it brought to your head without crossing the line into intoxication.

Despite the jovial atmosphere around you, the conversation from earlier continued to replay in your mind like a broken record. The weight of Brian's unspoken concerns and your own unresolved emotions pressed down on you, urging you to seek solace in a familiar but unwise habit.

Excusing yourself quietly, you slipped outside onto the porch, craving the solitary comfort of a cigarette. You had fought hard to overcome this vice, but tonight, the familiar ritual offered a brief escape from the complexities of your emotions. Wrapped in your coat against the winter chill, you lit up, inhaling deeply as wisps of smoke curled into the cold night air.

The rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths matched the soft glow of the cigarette's ember, a fleeting moment of calm amidst the storm raging inside you. Each exhale carried with it a mix of regret and relief, the nicotine temporarily soothing the ache in your chest.

As you stood there, gazing out into the quiet night, you felt a pang of guilt for indulging in something you had worked so hard to leave behind. Yet, part of you knew that tonight was different, that sometimes coping meant returning to old comforts, if only for a fleeting moment.

The porch offered a sanctuary of solitude, a space where you could gather your thoughts away from the prying eyes and well-meaning concerns of your friends. The cigarette burned down slowly between your fingers, each passing moment bringing a sense of clarity and a renewed determination to face the challenges ahead.

"I though you wanted to quit." As Brian joined you on the porch, his presence brought a mix of comfort and tension. You sensed his disapproval as he mentioned your effort to quit smoking, a habit he had always disliked but never openly criticized. His concern for your well-being was evident in his voice, though tempered with an understanding that tonight was different.

"Yeah, well, I was feeling like letting go for tonight," you responded defensively, taking a seat on the porch stairs. The soft glow of the cigarette illuminated the space between you, casting shadows that mirrored the conflict within.

Brian sat beside you, his gaze fixed on your profile as you avoided meeting his eyes. His concern deepened as he observed your distant demeanor throughout the evening, a stark contrast to your usual closeness.

"What's been up with you all night? You seem distant with me. It's unlike you," Brian gently probed, his voice carrying a note of hurt beneath the worry. The weight of his words struck a nerve, reminding you of the emotional distance you had inadvertently created.

You scoffed bitterly, your gaze drifting to the night sky that seemed devoid of stars. "Well, a lot of things are unlike me since you don't seem to know me," you retorted, the words escaping before you could soften their impact. The bitterness in your tone cut through the chilly air, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake.

Brian's expression shifted from concern to confusion, then to a trace of hurt as your words sank in. The accusation in your statement caught him off guard, and a frown creased his features. "What do you mean by that?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

You let out a frustrated huff, feeling the weight of the evening's revelations and the unresolved tension pressing down on you. "You should know," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the bitterness. "After all, we're not on the same page."

His eyes widened in realization, a flicker of defensiveness coloring his tone. "You heard earlier. You eavesdropped on our conversation?" Brian's voice held a note of accusation, his own hurt surfacing as he processed the breach of privacy.

The air between you grew heavy with unspoken words and unaddressed emotions. You knew you had crossed a line, yet the words had spilled out in a moment of raw emotion and frustration.

The tension between you and Brian escalated quickly as the weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air. His initial shock at your revelation about overhearing their conversation morphed into frustration, evident in the way he stood tall before you, his frustration palpable.

"Oh hush, we did not. We just arrived at the exact moment you said you weren’t sure about ever asking me to marry you," you countered, your voice tinged with a mix of defiance and hurt. Snuffing out the cigarette, you tossed it aside, trying to rein in your emotions as Brian spoke of wanting to meet your family properly before proposing."Just because I haven’t met your family. I want to do things properly and ask for your hand," Brian insisted, his tone a blend of determination and exasperation.You shook your head adamantly, cutting him off before he could delve further into a topic that struck a raw nerve.

"Stop right there. I don’t want to talk about it," you stated firmly, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability.Brian, frustrated and at his wit's end, rose to his full height, towering over you. "You’re always so closed about that subject. For fuck’s sake, y/n, I’m your boyfriend! Not a stranger!" His voice carried a note of pleading, laced with the sting of feeling shut out from a part of your life.Feeling the heat of the argument rising within you, you stood your ground, matching his intensity with your own. "I fucking know that! But maybe if you considered my feelings, then you would understand that topic is sensitive," you shot back, your voice rising with each word. Brian raised his hands in frustration, his usually composed demeanor showing cracks under the weight of the unresolved issue. His hair danced in the wind, a visual echo of the storm brewing between you. "I understand, I always try to understand. But I can’t walk on eggshells every time I speak about your family if you don’t at least explain why!" His words were a plea for clarity, a plea to bridge the gap that had widened between you over the years.

“Well I don’t want to explain because I don’t trust you and myself.” The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, leaving a palpable tension between you and Brian. The hurt that flashed across his face cut deep, a stark reminder of the damage your unguarded words had caused. You immediately regretted pushing him away with such harsh honesty, knowing you had crossed a line from which there was no easy return.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have…" you began, but Brian had already turned away, his silence a clear indication that he needed space. His terse suggestion to go back inside echoed in your ears, leaving you to follow him quietly, your head bowed with remorse.

As you reentered the house, the atmosphere felt strained, the group's lingering glances and hushed tones revealing their awareness of the argument. Brian settled into a seat, choosing a spot as far from you as possible, his body language closed off and distant. It was clear he needed time to process, and perhaps to heal from the wounds your words had inflicted.

Feeling the weight of guilt and regret, you tried to refocus on the conversation swirling around you, attempting to engage despite the emotional turmoil brewing inside. The effort felt futile, each attempt at normalcy overshadowed by the tension that hung in the air.

Just as you struggled to find your footing amidst the group, Robert approached you with a bright smile, clutching one of his favorite toys. His resemblance to John in that moment melted some of the heaviness in your heart. His innocent joy and the simplicity of his gesture offered a brief respite from the complex emotions swirling around you.

You knelt down to his level, returning his smile with a gentleness that belied the turmoil within. "Hey buddy, what have you got there?" you asked, allowing yourself to be momentarily distracted by the warmth and innocence of the child's presence.

Robert eagerly showed you his toy, his enthusiasm contagious even in the midst of the strained atmosphere. For a fleeting moment, you set aside the weight of the argument and the uncertainty that loomed over your relationship with Brian. Instead, you focused on the simple joy of connecting with a child who knew nothing of adult complexities.

As Brian watched you laughing with Robert, unaware of his gaze, John caught his friend's contemplative expression. Leaning closer, he offered a comforting perspective on the complexities of love and the weight of unresolved pasts.

"Love and the past are complicated. But that doesn’t make them worth less in our eyes," John reassured Brian, his voice carrying the wisdom of someone who had weathered his own storms. "One day she’ll come around when you least expect it."

Brian listened intently, absorbing John's words with a mix of hope and uncertainty. "But what should I do then?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

John shrugged gently, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Love her, as simple as it seems unreal. Just be patient, everything will be fine."

Brian nodded thoughtfully, his gaze alternating between John's reassuring presence and you, still engrossed in playful banter with Robert. Despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within him, Brian found a measure of solace in John's words. He understood that rushing or forcing the issue would only push you further away. Instead, he resolved to continue loving you, giving you the time and space you needed to confront your past on your own terms.

Meanwhile, Freddie interrupted the poignant moment by enlisting Roger to fetch a bottle of champagne from the kitchen. Roger, ever the reluctant participant in domestic tasks, grumbled under his breath but complied nonetheless. With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he headed off to locate the requested bottle, muttering about being the group's designated errand boy.

Robert's excitement over the fire truck on TV momentarily distracted you from the tense atmosphere in the room. Smiling at him, you pointed at the screen and remarked, "Yeah bud, just like your toy." His eyes widened with fascination as he watched the flashing lights, oblivious to the weight of the conversation that had just transpired.

Turning your attention back to the television, you noticed everyone in the room had also become captivated by the breaking news. John reached for the remote and increased the volume, the urgency in the reporter's voice drawing everyone's attention.

"...it seems to be one of the most violent episodes that has happened in years in London," the reporter's voice echoed through the room. "The night took a bitter turn for those students who only came to enjoy a gig at the Orpheum in west London. Two hundred of them were here to watch a few bands but mostly one: Sunset Curve."

The mention of the band's name sent an unexpected pang through your heart. Sunset Curve — a name you hadn't heard in years, yet it carried a weight of memories and emotions you had long tried to bury. Brian noticed the change in your demeanor, his concern evident as he glanced at you from across the room.

As the news report unfolded with chilling details, your friends murmured in disbelief, their voices a backdrop to the tragic events described. The room filled with a heavy silence as the reporter's words pierced through the air, each sentence delivering a devastating blow.

“On these images you can see the remnants of the Orpheum after that tragic event. Around 9pm, as the band was in the middle of their song, 24-year-old Chriss Klain entered the bar and started to shoot aimlessly though the crowd.”

The words hung in the air like a shroud of despair, the gravity of the situation sinking in deeper with each passing moment. Your heart pounded in your chest as the reporter continued, each word dragging you further into a nightmare you desperately wished wasn't real.

“It’s to be trusted that the man was highly intoxicated. A few people were hurt and the police counts three dead already. Two young ladies from the crowd and the lead guitarist of the band: Luke Patterson.”

The world seemed to come to a standstill as the name echoed in your mind — Luke Patterson. Your brother. The lead guitarist of Sunset Curve. It felt unreal, a cruel twist of fate that shattered everything you thought you knew.

In that moment, time ceased to exist. Your thoughts whirled, grappling with the sudden and incomprehensible loss. You clung to a desperate hope that it was all a mistake, a terrible mix-up that would soon be corrected. But as images of your brother flashed on the screen, reality crashed down around you like a tidal wave.

Everything you had built, everything you hoped for, crumbled in an instant. The pain was raw, engulfing you in a sea of disbelief and sorrow. Your mind struggled to process the magnitude of what had just been revealed, unable to reconcile the vibrant memories of your brother with the horrific news unfolding before you.

As the reporter's voice continued, detailing Luke's role in the band and the tragic loss, your mind swirled with memories and regrets. The ache in your chest intensified, a physical manifestation of the pain that gripped your heart. Around you, the group began to discuss the horrific event, their voices distant and muted against the overwhelming weight of your grief.

"It was a horrific event," someone murmured, their words barely registering as the reality of Luke's absence settled like a heavy fog. The thought that you would never again have the chance to apologize, to reconcile with your brother, tore at your soul. He was gone, and with him went any hope of healing the wounds of the past.

Images of Luke flashed through your mind — his infectious laughter, his mischievous grin, the way he always looked up to you despite everything. He had been your baby brother, someone you were supposed to protect, yet your own pain and anger had driven a wedge between you. Now, those wounds felt irreparable, a gaping chasm that stretched beyond reach.

"The young man, only 26, was the writer and leader of the band. He wrote their most famous hit: 'Unsaid N/n,'" the reporter's voice continued, each word tightening the knot in your throat. "N/n" — the nickname Luke had given you when he was just a toddler, a playful twist on your name that had stuck throughout the years. The mention of the song he had penned brought forth a flood of memories, memories you struggled to contain.

Suddenly, the familiar melody of "Unsaid N/n" filled the room, its haunting notes weaving through the air. It was his creation, his voice immortalized in the music that now surrounded you.

Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably as the music played, each note a painful reminder of the loss you couldn't comprehend. The melody that once brought joy and comfort now echoed with grief and shattered dreams. In that moment, the weight of your guilt and sorrow overwhelmed you, paralyzing your senses and drowning you in a sea of regret.

As the room buzzed with discussions and condolences, you felt detached, as if trapped in a nightmare from which you couldn't wake. The memories of Luke flooded your mind — his laughter, his antics, the moments shared and the moments lost. He was supposed to be here, alive and well, not a name on a news report, not a haunting melody on a television screen.

Through tear-blurred vision, you saw Robert trying to get your attention, his innocent voice lost in the cacophony of emotions crashing within you. Part of you wanted to respond, to comfort the child who looked up to you, but another part couldn't bear to face the pain any longer.

"No, it's not true," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible amidst the chaos in your mind. "He's not gone. He can't be gone." Denial and disbelief clawed at your heart, refusing to accept the harsh reality that Luke was no longer with you.

With trembling steps, you rose from your seat, the weight of guilt and failure heavy on your shoulders. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape, for solitude away from the suffocating grief that surrounded you. You couldn't bear to hear his voice, his music, not when it only amplified the emptiness in your soul.

You made your way towards the exit, your movements mechanical, driven by an overwhelming need to flee. The room blurred around you as tears continued to fall, your chest tight with anguish and regret. Each step away from the sorrowful symphony playing on the television was a step towards numbness, towards a darkness where the pain might dull, if only for a moment.

In that moment of shattered despair, you felt like a failure in every role you cherished — as a person, as a lover, as a big sister. Guilt gnawed at your conscience, accusing you of failing Luke when he needed you most. The ache in your heart was unbearable, the void left by his absence echoing with the memories of what could have been.

As you moved towards the exit, your vision blurred with tears and your mind clouded with grief. The weight of the tragedy and the guilt of unresolved conflicts with Luke bore down on you like a heavy shroud. Each step felt like an eternity, a desperate attempt to escape the haunting melody that played on the television.

Just as you reached the threshold, Roger's voice cut through the haze surrounding you. His concerned tone pierced through the din of the room, but it was as though his words were underwater, distant and muffled. He stood in your path, blocking the way out, his eyes searching yours for any sign of comprehension.

"Y/n, are you okay?" His voice reverberated in your ears, but it struggled to penetrate the fog that enveloped your thoughts. The bottle of champagne he had found lay forgotten on the side as he cautiously reached out towards you, sensing your unstable state.

You tried to respond, to reassure him that you were fine, but your body betrayed you. Waves of dizziness washed over you, the room spinning relentlessly. Roger's concerned face appeared doubled, and the lights overhead seemed unbearably bright, adding to your disorientation.

Your breathing grew ragged, shallow gasps escaping your lips as your legs wavered beneath you. It felt as though you were on a boat in a tumultuous sea, unable to find your footing. The voices around you melded into a distant hum, indistinct and surreal.

Then, as if in slow motion, you began to sway uncontrollably. Your knees buckled, and you started to fall to the side, towards the unforgiving floor. Panic surged through you, but before you could hit the ground, Roger's reflexes kicked in. He moved swiftly, his strong arms catching the side of your head, preventing a harsh impact.

"Y/n!" His voice was urgent now, filled with alarm as he held you steady. The room seemed to tilt around you, sounds echoing strangely in your ears. You struggled to focus, to grasp onto any semblance of stability amidst the chaos swirling within you.

Roger's voice sounded distant as if coming from the end of a tunnel. The room spun around you, colors blending into a dizzying whirlpool of confusion and anguish. Your body felt weightless and heavy at the same time, limbs unresponsive as if disconnected from your will. The world tilted dangerously, threatening to plunge you into darkness.

The last thing you registered before slipping into unconsciousness was the sound of Roger's panicked voice calling your name, his hands catching you just in time to prevent a harsh impact with the ground. His urgency echoed in your ears as your vision blurred and faded, swallowed by the overwhelming tide of emotions and the crushing weight of grief.

In that fleeting moment between awareness and oblivion, you felt a strange sense of relief. Relief from the pain, relief from the suffocating sorrow that had gripped your heart moments ago. It was a fleeting respite from the unbearable truth of Luke's absence, a moment of fleeting peace in the tumultuous storm of your emotions.

As darkness claimed you, the world slipped away, leaving behind a void where thoughts and memories swirled like distant echoes. The echoes of Luke's laughter, of shared moments and unspoken words, lingered in the recesses of your mind, haunting yet comforting in their familiarity.

And as you drifted into unconsciousness, a single thought lingered — a hope, fragile and flickering, that somewhere beyond the veil of darkness, Luke's spirit still lingered, watching over you with the love and warmth that transcended life and death.

The room fell silent, all eyes now on the unfolding scene. Concern etched deeply into Brian's features as he rushed to your side, followed closely by Mary and Veronica. Dominique hovered nearby, her hands clasped in worry as she exchanged a frantic glance with Freddie. Roger's grip was steady as he held you upright, his voice a mix of urgency and reassurance. "Stay with me, Y/n. Can you hear me?" His words were urgent yet gentle, trying to anchor you in the midst of your overwhelming turmoil. You weren’t conscious anymore, your body all limp in his hold which made Brian’s heart twitch in panic. Through the haze, Brian's voice cut through, filled with concern and determination. "Let's get her to the couch," he suggested, his hands moving to support you alongside Roger's. Together, they guided you back into the living room, where they eased you gently onto the couch amidst a flurry of worried murmurs.

Mary knelt beside you, her touch light yet comforting as she checked on you. "She looks in shock, lift her legs up," she instructed softly, her voice a soothing anchor in the chaos. Veronica hovered nearby, her hand resting protectively on her belly as she exchanged worried glances with the others. Freddie appeared with a glass of water, which Brian held and splashed some on your face. "Wake up, my love," he urged gently, his hazel eyes searching yours with deep concern. Hoping the cool water would bring you back and provide a fleeting sense of clarity.

The atmosphere was thick with tension as everyone watched Brian's increasingly frantic attempts to rouse you. He shook you more violently, his voice growing desperate. "Y/n, please wake up. You're scaring me," he implored, his hands trembling as he tried to elicit any response from your unresponsive body.

John knelt beside you, checking your pulse and breathing. "She's breathing fine," he reassured, though the calmness in his voice couldn't mask the underlying worry. Despite this, Brian's panic only deepened, his calls becoming more urgent. "Y/n, please, you need to wake up," he repeated, his voice cracking with fear and desperation.

Freddie, unable to bear the sight any longer, sprang into action. "I'll go call an ambulance," he announced, his tone decisive as he hurried out of the room to get his phone. The urgency in his steps mirrored the collective anxiety gripping everyone present.

Mary continued to hold your hand, her grip firm yet gentle. "Come on, Y/n, we're here. You can do this," she whispered softly, trying to provide comfort and hope in the midst of the growing panic.

Veronica and Dominique exchanged worried glances, their concern palpable. Roger stood close by, ready to assist in any way he could, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a somber seriousness.

Brian's heart pounded as he held onto you, willing you to wake up with every fiber of his being. The moments stretched into an agonizing eternity, each second filled with the silent prayers and hopes of your friends surrounding you.

Just as Freddie was about to exit the room, Brian spoke up in a cracked voice. "Come on, Y/n," Brian whispered, his voice breaking. "Come back to me, please." His eyes never left your face, searching for any flicker of consciousness. The worry etched into his features was mirrored by everyone in the room, each silently praying for your return to awareness.

Finally, there was a faint stir. Your eyelids fluttered slightly, and a soft moan escaped your lips. The room collectively held its breath, the tiny movement a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. "That's it," Brian encouraged, his voice trembling with relief and continued worry. "Come on, you can do it." Slowly, your eyes began to open, the world coming back into focus. The faces around you were a blur of concern and relief, their voices blending into a chorus of reassurances and gentle urgings. Mary squeezed your hand gently, her eyes brimming with tears of relief. Veronica exhaled deeply, her hand resting on her belly, while Roger let out a small, shaky laugh of relief. As you blinked and looked around, Brian's tear-filled eyes met yours, and he let out a shaky breath. "Thank God," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You're okay."

Brian's hands cradled your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall from your eyes. "You scared me," he admitted softly, his voice raw with emotion. "I thought I lost you." His eyes were filled with a depth of concern and love that only added to the weight of the moment.

Freddie, standing just behind Brian, exhaled deeply and gave a small nod, his usual flamboyance replaced with a rare look of genuine concern. "Welcome back, darling," he said softly, his voice unusually gentle.

John, still kneeling beside you, gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You gave us quite a scare," he said, his tone only being sincerity.

The room, which had been filled with tension and worry, now began to relax, the collective sigh of relief almost tangible. The atmosphere started to lighten as your friends saw signs of your recovery. However, as the moments passed, the earlier events that had driven you to the edge started to resurface in your mind, bringing back a flood of memories and emotions.

Without warning, you violently sat up, provoking a concert of disapproving sounds from everyone around you. "Whoa, take it easy!" Roger exclaimed, his hands hovering near you, ready to steady you if needed.

Brian immediately tried to push you back down gently, his concern evident in his every move. "You need to rest," he urged, his voice a mix of worry and insistence.

But you swatted his hands away, your own hands trembling as you spoke. "Please don’t touch me—" The words got stuck in your throat, choked off by the sobs that were beginning to rise. Everything came back all at once: the news report, the image of your brother, the unbearable grief and guilt. It was as if a dam had broken inside you, releasing a torrent of emotions too powerful to contain.

The room was filled with an overwhelming sense of concern as they watched you spiral into a panic attack. Your breaths came in rapid, shallow gasps, and your eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape from the suffocating fear.

Brian, noticing the signs of your escalating panic, reached out once more, his hands trembling slightly. "Y/n, look at me," he said, his voice a mixture of urgency and tenderness. "Focus on my voice. You're safe here. Just breathe with me, okay? In and out, nice and slow."

Freddie, sensing the gravity of the situation, crouched down beside you, his usually flamboyant demeanor replaced with a calm, grounding presence. "Darling, we're all here for you," he said softly. "Just listen to Brian and breathe. You've got this."

Roger, still kneeling by your side, gently placed his hand on your shoulder, offering a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. "You're not alone," he reassured you, his voice steady. "We're right here with you."

Mary, Veronica, and Dominique exchanged worried glances, their eyes reflecting the shared concern of the group. They moved a bit closer, forming a protective circle around you, their presence a silent yet powerful reminder that you were surrounded by people who cared deeply for you.

John, trying to reassure little Robert and Michael, knelt down to their level, speaking in soothing tones to keep them calm amid the tension. His eyes, however, never strayed far from you, his concern evident.

As you struggled to catch your breath, the room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing closer and closer. Your chest tightened, and a sense of dread threatened to engulf you completely. You felt trapped, unable to escape the overwhelming fear and grief.

Brian, still focused on you, started to take slow, exaggerated breaths, hoping you would mirror his actions. "In through the nose, out through the mouth," he instructed gently, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're doing great. Just keep breathing with me."

Freddie nodded, his gaze unwavering. "One breath at a time, love," he said encouragingly. "We're all here for you."

Gradually, their calm and steady presence began to pierce through the fog of your panic. You found yourself starting to match Brian's breathing, each inhale and exhale becoming a little more controlled. The tightness in your chest began to ease, and the room started to come back into focus.

With each breath, you felt a bit more grounded, the overwhelming tide of emotions slowly receding. The faces of your friends, filled with concern and love, reminded you that you were not alone in this moment of darkness.

Brian continued to hold your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. "That's it," he murmured softly. "You're doing great. Just keep breathing."

As your breathing steadied, the reality of the situation began to sink in. The grief and pain were still there, but they were no longer threatening to consume you entirely.

Once your breathing calmed down, the weight of the world seemed to press on your shoulders. You collapsed into Brian's chest, the sobs wracking your body uncontrollably. "It's my fault," you repeated between gasps, the words heavy with anguish. The rest of your friends, still unsure of the cause of your distress, exchanged concerned glances, their worry deepening.

Brian held you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively, as he tried to soothe you. "Love, what is it?" he asked gently, his voice trembling with concern. "If I had held him back, he would still be alive. It's all my fault. He was right. I'm just like Dad..." You spiraled deeper into despair, and Brian's grip on your shoulders tightened gently, trying to anchor you.

"Y/n, what are you talking about?" Brian's voice was tender, his own tears matching yours as he witnessed your heartbreak unfold. Tears streamed down your face, and in all the six years of your relationship, he had never seen you so shattered.

"Luke..." you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. Brian's expression softened in understanding. "The guitarist who just died," he said softly, realization dawning on him. His heart ached for you, knowing the pain you were going through. He held you tighter, letting you cry out the grief that threatened to consume you.

“What about him?” you asked, shaking your head as tears continued to stream down your face. “He’s not named Luke Patterson. His real name is L/n. He’s... he was my baby brother.”

Brian froze, his eyes widening in shock as the weight of your words settled in. His arms tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer in a protective embrace. “Oh my god, Y/n,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with sorrow and disbelief. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

The room fell into a stunned silence, each of your friends processing the revelation with heavy hearts. John, Freddie, Roger, Mary, Veronica, and Dominique exchanged somber glances, their expressions reflecting deep sympathy for your loss.

“You couldn’t have known, Y/n. None of us could,” Brian reassured you, his voice gentle yet firm. He held you close, offering silent support as you struggled with the weight of your grief.

“I need to go see him, Brian,” you whispered urgently, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and determination. You needed closure, to confront the reality of your brother’s passing and find a way to reconcile the guilt that weighed heavily on your heart.

Brian nodded solemnly, understanding the urgency in your voice. “Of course,” he said softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “We’ll go together.”

The rest of the night felt like a haze, blurred by grief and shock. Roger drove you and Dominique to the hospital in silence, the weight of the situation heavy in the air. The waiting room was a blur of sterile white walls and anxious faces. When they finally brought you in to identify him, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

Your cries echoed through the morgue as you saw him lying there, pale and cold. You reached out, touching his hand as if hoping he would wake up, as if it were all a terrible nightmare. But there was no response, just the harsh reality of his lifeless body. The wound through his chest was a cruel testament to the violence that had taken him away from you.

In that moment, part of you wished he would sit up and scold you for disturbing his sleep, for waking him up from some silly dream. But deep down, you knew that would never happen. He was gone, and you would never see his vibrant blue eyes open again.

That night felt like the longest of your life. Brian stayed by your side through it all, his comforting presence a lifeline amidst the overwhelming grief. Finally, in the quiet hours of the morning, you found the strength to share everything with him. You spoke of the abusive household you both endured, how you had run away together to escape the pain, and the fateful night he disappeared after a heated argument.

You poured out your guilt, your sorrow, and every raw emotion that had been buried deep within you for years. Brian listened, holding you close, offering words of comfort and understanding. His love and support gave you the courage to confront the painful memories and begin the long journey toward healing.

As the sun rose on that tragic night, you held onto Brian tightly, knowing that despite the pain, you were not alone anymore. Together, you faced the darkness of your past and began to navigate a future where healing and hope could eventually replace the overwhelming grief.

The rain fell steadily, casting a somber atmosphere over the cemetery as the mourners slowly dispersed. You remained standing in front of Luke's grave, the wet earth underfoot and the gray sky above mirroring the heaviness in your heart. The flowers and photos around the grave were a testament to the love and impact Luke had left behind, even in the moments you weren't there for him.

Luke's bandmates had approached you with the offer to buy the rights to "Unsaid N/n," but you declined. Deep down, you knew Luke wouldn't have wanted his personal message to you turned into a commercial endeavor. You found solace in the lyrics, the last words he wanted to say to you—a silent apology that you now cherished, even though you never had the chance to hear it from him.

Your friends, respectful of your grief, stood a distance behind you, offering silent support. Amidst the grayness, you noticed a figure in the distance. It had been a decade, but you instantly recognized him—the man who had inflicted so much pain on you and Luke, the man who had shattered your family and your sense of security.

He stood under an umbrella, watching you quietly, and then nodded in your direction. The gesture felt like a cruel mockery of the agony he had caused. You turned your head away, refusing to acknowledge him or give him the satisfaction of seeing your pain

"I love you, Luke, and I always will. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from the world. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the life you deserved," you whispered, your words carried away by the falling rain. Silent tears streamed down your face, mixing with the raindrops, unnoticed.

Lost in grief, you hadn't realized you had let go of your umbrella until a small hand grabbed yours. Looking down, you saw Robert standing beside you, holding out his own little umbrella, trying to shield you from the rain. His innocent gesture touched your heart, and you crouched down to his level, managing a small, tearful smile. "Thank you, buddy," you said softly, taking his umbrella as he ran back to his parents, leaving you alone again with your thoughts.

Brian appeared beside you, his expression soft and understanding as he watched you silently. He didn't say anything at first, respecting your moment of grief. The rain continued to fall steadily around you, creating a gentle backdrop to the heavy emotions that weighed on your heart.

After a few moments, Brian reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder, offering comfort through his touch. "He was lucky to have you as his sister," Brian said softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella. "You did everything you could."

You nodded, grateful for his presence and understanding. "I just wish I could have done more," you whispered, your voice catching with emotion. Brian pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as you let yourself lean against him, seeking solace in his warmth and strength.

"You gave him love," Brian murmured against your hair, his arms steady around you. "That's the most important thing."

You held onto Brian tightly, finding comfort in his words and his presence. Together, you stood there in the rain, surrounded by the memories of Luke and the support of your loved ones, finding a small measure of peace amidst the storm of emotions.

Brian held you tightly, his heart breaking as he watched you spiral into despair. "Shh, love, it's not your fault," he whispered, his voice steady despite his own turmoil. "You are nothing like your dad. You're kind and loving. Please, just breathe and tell me what happened."

The rest of your friends exchanged worried glances, feeling the weight of your pain without fully understanding its depth. They stayed close, their presence a silent support as you continued to unravel.

With trembling hands, you clung to Brian's shirt, the fabric dampening with your tears. "Luke," you choked out, the name a jagged shard in your throat. "He was my brother. My baby brother, Brian."

"It's all my fault," you repeated, the words a mantra of guilt. "I should have protected him. I should have been there. But I pushed him away."

Brian gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, Y/n," he said firmly, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. "You are not responsible for what happened. You did not cause this. You did everything you could with the love and care you had."

Freddie stepped closer, his usual flamboyance replaced with a rare, quiet empathy. "He's right, darling," he said softly. "We all have our regrets, but blaming yourself won't bring him back. You have to find a way to forgive yourself."

Roger nodded, his expression solemn. "You loved him, that's what matters. And I bet he knew that."

Mary, Veronica, and Dominique gathered around, each offering a touch of reassurance and understanding. Their words mingled with the falling rain, a gentle chorus of support that surrounded you in your darkest moment.

Together, your friends formed a circle of solace, reminding you of the love and strength you still had despite the devastating loss. Brian held you close, his embrace a lifeline amidst the storm of grief, promising to stand by you as you navigated the painful journey ahead.

And life went on, the earth kept spinning, and gradually, the pain began to soothe. The ache in your heart remained, but with each passing day, it became more bearable. One thing remained steadfast amid the sorrow: your love for Brian and the memory of Luke. Nothing could change the past, but you were determined not to let it define your future. You clung to the lessons learned from Luke's tragic departure, vowing to cherish every moment and to honor his memory in every way possible.

As time passed, you found solace in Brian's unwavering support and the comforting presence of your friends. They stood by you through the darkest moments, offering understanding and empathy without judgment. Their love became a source of strength, helping you heal and slowly rebuild the shattered pieces of your heart.

In the quiet moments, you often found yourself listening to Luke's favorite song, "Unsaid N/n," the lyrics a poignant reminder of his spirit and the bond you shared. Each note carried a bittersweet melody, weaving through your memories and filling the void he left behind.

Looking toward the future, you held onto a quiet hope. Perhaps one day, there would be a Luke May who would carry on Luke's legacy, honoring his uncle in ways you had dreamed of. You envisioned a future where his memory would be celebrated, where his spirit would live on through the love and stories shared by those who knew him.

And as you gazed into Brian's eyes, seeing the depth of his love and understanding, you knew that together, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead. With him by your side, you found the strength to embrace life again, cherishing each moment and carrying Luke's memory in your heart forever.

[chansaw]

on red and blue symbolism in heathers: an essay

i read one of those buzzfeed listicles the other day that was like “crazy fun facts and secrets about your favorite 80s movies!” and one of the first fun facts was “did you know that in heathers, every character is associated with a color?” that’s not a fun fact. it’s not even a secret. heathers is a lot of things but one thing it’s not is subtle. heathers practically beats the viewer over the head with color symbolism but in this essay, i would particularly like to draw attention to the colors red and blue and their significance in heathers’ narrative.

a short preface: when possible, i cite stills sourced from the movie itself. some images, however, are served better by the gif format, so whenever i post a gif i will also cite the tumblr user who made it. if your gifs are used in this post and you would like me to remove them, please let me know.

okay, with that out of the way, let's start at the beginning (naturally). below is the title card. right away, the cinematographers inundate the viewer with red, informing the viewer that red (and whoever wears it) will be significant to the narrative.

red represents the social order and the natural hierarchy of predators and prey at westerburg. red is omnipresent throughout the production design of the school's campus.

by assuming the color of the school itself, heather chandler assumes control of the school. and when she drags veronica along to the remington party to help boost their reputation, the whole dorm is bathed in red light.

when we first meet veronica, she's wearing gray and black, with only occasional pops of blue (the brooch in the outfit above, her croquet mallet, etc) but as veronica's discomfort and unease begins to grow, something interesting begins to happen!

blue light slowly begins to creep into the frame, and once veronica has finally had enough of brad's bullshit, it becomes even more prominent. just as red represents control of the social hierarchy, blue symbolizes discontent and rejection of the social order.

(gif by @/fireairshadow)

meanwhile, heather chandler isn't having a great time at the party either. this scene is the only time in the film we see heather chandler completely alone, in a moment of vulnerability and self loathing, and she's surrounded by the color blue.

(gif by @/tibby ily tibby)

and then all hell breaks loose. i honestly dont think one image or gif alone can do this scene justice so im linking to tibby's (beautifully colored) gifset of the scene.

note how as veronica declares war ("lick it up, baby!"), red and blue lights flicker across her face. and as heather promises to ruin veronica in turn, the red light casts heather's face in shadow and overpowers the blue.

of course, heather never gets the chance to make good on this promise because veronica and jd kill her. and that may have been a mistake, but the color of their poison is quite deliberate.

(gif by @/nowadayz)

and right before she dies, she takes off her red scrunchie - conceding her control.

of course, heather's death doesn't mean her exit from the narrative. red lingers throughout the rest of the film. but guess what color veronica wears to the funeral?

tumblr is a little bitch and i dont have the time or energy to expound upon the rest of my argument at the moment. it's probably been examined and analyzed in greater detail by people smarter and far more eloquent than me. but i'll conclude with veronica's reclamation of the red scrunchie at the end of the film. you could choose to interpret this as veronica conceding to the hierarchy even after all she's been through, but i choose to interpret it as a bitter compromise.

(gif by @/nowadayz)

and so it ends the way it begins.

anyways all this to say vote for chansaw in the @redandbluebracket tomorrow or i'll kill you.

ETA: a note to anyone who came to my blog from this post - hi! you don’t have to like chansaw romantically/as a ship. im not expecting to proselytize and convert people en masse (although if you HAVE been converted, welcome). even without the shipping element, i believe that veronica and hc’s dynamic as character foils is the backbone of the narrative, which is why i genuinely think they deserve to win the red and blue bracket. vote here. my name is heather chansaw and i approve this message.

[adobedragon]

“So, the saying goes, ‘Something old, something new…” Allura ticked off each phrase on her fingers. “Something borrowed, something blue?”

“Yup,” said Pidge, picking at a loose thread on the bed’s comforter. She, along with a handful of other women, were in Lance’s parents’ bedroom, awaiting the arrival of Lance’s cousin Ignacio, a hairstylist. Ignacio had the herculean task of doing Pidge’s hair and makeup for the wedding.

“Something blue?” chirped Ezor. “Wouldn’t that be Lancey-Lance? Blue Paladin.”

“I thought he was the Red Paladin,” said Zethrid in her gravelly voice. “It’s so hard to keep track of all the Voltron Lion changes.”

Pidge chuckled, though deep down she found the two alien women’s presence a bit off-putting. They had eventually proven themselves good fighting companions but Pidge still hadn’t quite forgiven Ezor for trying to torture her years ago.

“Katie’s dress has blue beadwork and stitching.” Colleen Holt ran her fingers along the dress’s bodice.

The dress was draped over the bed and Pidge, who was sitting beside it, traced the arc of an embroidered vine with a finger. “My dress is also new.” One of Coran’s designs, its basic form was that of a green, 1920s flapper dress, but fashioned from an Altean fabric derived from spider silk. “‘Blue’ and ‘new’.” She grinned wickedly. “My underpants are new too.”

Veronica, Lance’s sister, arched an eyebrow at her in the same manner her brother often did. “Are you wearing boys’ underwear? Under your wedding dress?”

“Well, yeah,” said Pidge. “They’re comfy.” She shrugged. “Lance thinks they’re sexy.” Remembering that Lance’s mother was in the room, she blushed.

Elvia McClain laughed and winked at Pidge, demonstrating the origin of that Lance gesture. “Relax, mija. I have five children and none of them conceived immaculately. You think I don’t know what you and Lance have been doing in the bunk house? In the barn?”

Pidge smirked and blushed, because, yeah, there weren’t many places on the McClain farm where Pidge and Lance hadn’t had sex.

“Here is ‘old’ and ‘borrowed.’” Allura reached toward her earlobe and with a flourish and a hum of Altean alchemy, removed the gem-like earring. “These were my mother’s. From old Altea.”

“Those were Queen Melenor’s?” said Romelle reverently, the Altean woman leaning in to view the earrings closely.

“Yes.”

As Allura reached toward Pidge’s ear, Pidge leaned back. “I, uh, they’re too nice, too nice for me.”

“Nonsense. I would be honored if you wore them.” Allura held the lilac purple gem near Pidge’s earlobe, and the earring hummed, Altean space magic fastening it so it dangled beneath her ear. “Just don’t let Lance swallow them when you two start climbing each other.”

“Thank you,” said Pidge as Allura attached the second earring. She rose from the bed and studied herself in the mirror over the dresser. In her current, typical Pidge state of scruffiness—green tank top and gray sweatpants—the earrings made her look like a toddler playing dress-up with mom’s jewelry.

The McClain’s house shook lightly as the front door opened and shut. “That must be Ignacio,” said Elvia, hurrying off to meet him. Pidge grimaced, not quite ready for this; primping and preening were not Pidge’s default settings.

Earlier, sensing her nervousness, Lance had said, “You don’t have to do this. If you want, we can wear matching tuxes. I don’t care what you wear just as long as I’m the one who gets to undress you later.” This accompanied with his signature flirty eyebrow waggle.

His offer was why she’d asked him to marry her in the first place. Because he loved her as she was, her boy self, girl self and everything in between.

In the mirror, she saw a tall, dark-skinned middle-aged man enter the room. She tensed, then reminded herself she was a Paladin of Voltron, unafraid of anything, including a guy with a kit full of face goop and hair-taming implements.

Turning, she gave Ignacio a wobbly smile. “Hi. I’m Pidge.”

She wasn’t doing this for Lance or out of any need to cling to tradition. She was doing it because even androgynous Paladins of Voltron want to be a princess on their wedding day.

[justjasper]

morgan/reid 54) Corner of the mouth kisses

He's not waiting for an apology, because he doesn't want one or need one. He gets why Reid's been so pissed, with everything that's gone on with his dad.

He is waiting for literally anything else, though. Any kind of acknowledgement that his exists would do it, but Reid's... Reid's gotta process. Morgan sucks it up, and heads to the hospital to give his best to JJ.

The rest of the team are getting ready to leave, standing around the maternity waiting area with coffee.

"Hey, Will." Morgan offers his hand, and brings Will into a handshake-turned-back-pat. "Congratulations, man."

"Thanks, Morgan."

"Sorry I'm late. Can I go poke my head in on JJ, give my best wishes?"

Will nods, gives him the room number.

Of course, Reid is just about the cross the threshhold when Morgan opens the door. Reid stops short, letting loose a little breath.

Over his shoulder, JJ is cradling her new baby, eyebrow arced as she watches the exchange.

Morgan lets his gaze slide back to Reid, expecting him to avoid eye contact, but it's there waiting for him.

"Hey, kid."

"Hey. Thank you for the last couple of days and, well, for being you."

Reid's eyes flick down to his mouth and back. A second later he leans in and presses the softest kiss Morgan has ever had to the corn of his mouth. His lips linger there a few seconds, before he withdraws and moves past Morgan and out of the room.

Morgan's fingers automatically reach up to touch the place Reid's mouth has just been. JJ's eyebrows are so high up they're threatening to fly off her head.

There's a moment that hangs, because she clearly wants to grill him on whatever context has amounted to Reid - her Spence - kissing him. But this isn't their moment. Morgan steps further into the room to get a good look at the baby.

"Well done, JJ. How you feeling?"

"Tired. Good tired."

"I won't stay long, just wanted to some say hi."

"Well hi," JJ says, smiling at him. "Meet Henry."

"JJ, he's gorgeous."

JJ hands him off to Morgan without preamble, and the tiny bundle fits so snugly against the length of his arm.

"You're a natural."

"Had practice, babies like me," Morgan says, cooing at Henry.

"Your sisters?"

"Yeah. Sarah's got Tanya, she's about three now. Des had Veronica last year."

"I remember," JJ says, watching him. "She was a premie, right? I remember you went back to Chicago. She good?"

"Yeah, she's catching up. A bit small still, but she's doing good."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Hmm?" Morgan look at her. He's pretty sure she doesn't mean the status report about his niece.

"It was a tough one for him, JJ."

"Yeah." Her smile is tired, but genuinely warm. "I'm glad he's got you. Doesn't he?"

"JJ," he says. It's not really a warning, more of a plea. If he starts thinking about it, about the kiss, and their friendship, and Reid crying out for him during a nightmare, he's going to go absolutely insane.

JJ waves a hand, as if to indicate she's dropping it; but not without a gentle but definiitve last word.

"You're good for each other."

--- --- ---

You can find more of my fic here. I’m also on Twitter or Discord (Quan Tea Co//The BAU Bullpen) if you want to hang out!

[maybeimamuppet]

Veronica and Cady for the character thingy plss

DID I NEVER POST THIS HOLY SHIT OOPS

eeep i just found this and don’t remember when i got it i’m sorry friend!! i’m assuming this is for the list and not the bingo but if i’m wrong i’ll do it again lol

ok i have to do cady first bc it won’t let me type beneath veronica’s picture so woo i love it here soooo much /s

CADY

favorite thing about them

she has so much depth! i love how adorable she is and how bubbly and high energy and yet soft spoken and sweet she is but she also has a dark and vindictive streak in her that’s really fun to play with. also she’s like really fun to torture sometimes lol whoops

least favorite thing about them

again i hate how many people she uses for her own gain and how power hungry she gets

favorite line

“shuck! i started to say shoot and i almost said fu-” for funnies and uhhh

“fearless is the one thing i can be now, no friends, nothing to lose” and whatnot for like more emotional. also all of i see stars i still get misty every time i listen to it

brOTP

damiaaaaan. they wear matching outfits whenever they can, damian comes over to cadnis’ house for movie nights twice a week at least, they watch bootlegs together without janis bc she doesn’t like them. just. mwah. i could go off but i’ll hold back lol

OTP

TAKE A WILD GUESS DUDE

nOTP

aaron. they only worked bc of erikyle. if i could drop kick every other aaron into the road i would.

random headcanon

she can talk backwards!

unpopular opinion

there’s a point where she is fully aware of what she’s doing and how wrong it is and she actively chooses to continue for a hot second until the burn book being released and whatnot snaps her out of it that people do not talk about enough. i know i’m guilty of it too but she is not all innocent and naive and coerced into this shit like she’s a full teenager she knows damn well what she’s doing

song i associate with them

a change in me from beauty and the beast which hath inspired many a fic in my early days. at the plaza from the violet hour loosely inspired i’ll be there for christmas. like very loosely. uhhh and i think the like vibes of true love from frozen (or basically anything anna sings lol) even if it’s not necessarily the same meaning

favorite picture of them

i picked two for both her and veronica bc iiiim greedy lol

alright well one of cady’s is with ronnie for some fuckass reason thanks tumblr!!! i tried i swear

VERONICA

favorite thing about them

honestly this isn’t as much to do with her as a character as it is to do with the people who’ve played her but she has done so much for my self esteem in a really roundabout way. as someone with dark brown eyes and frizzy kinda untamable brown hair reading fic about her helped me appreciate more things about myself.

if you struggle with self image i really cannot recommend highly enough finding a character who looks and acts like you and reading stories where someone is absolutely, irrevocably in love with them. whether that’s platonically or romantically. i know it’s weird but being able to look in the mirror or at some aspect of my personality that i don’t like and say “that’s still lovable” is WONDERFUL.

least favorite thing about them

i despise the way she treats martha and also baby girl is kind of a doormat!! she’s one of those shitty wicker doormats that scratches the hell outta your feet but like dang!!

favorite line

not a line but her face in the musical when jd and kurt and ram start fighting

but also the way barrett delivers the “oH MY GOD!” over chandler’s corpse is immaculate

and i had one of her like super iconic ones everyone knows in my head but now i can’t remember it siiiigh

brOTP

marthaaaaa buddies since babies. also like. still alive and post MUCH therapy jd has a lot of fun potential

OTP

poly heathers!! but to put them individually in order, mac, chandler (those two are almost tied), duke

nOTP

JD. i know he goes by his initials and that’s just his name but i was trying to yell that. i do not like him i think he stinky get him outta there

random headcanon

she’s not allowed to wear pants with drawstrings anymore because she’s gotten stuck in them too many times. also she’s not allowed to use superglue bc she’s glued her fingers together too many times.

yes both of these are true of me shut up

unpopular opinion

she’s a lot weaker than most people think and a lot stronger than most people think st the same time

and i’m not always a huge fan of her being autistic i think she’s just that painfully awkward and dense

song i associate with them

it is so much harder than you would think to pick songs that are not from their shows?? like the only one in my head is i’m blue dabadeedabadie like i don’t KNOW OKAY

favorite picture of them

[alaffy]

Riverdale 7x20 - Goodbye, Riverdale (Spoilers)

Jesus, this was depressing. After seven years, Riverdale comes to an end. And I can absolutely guarantee that nobody ever expected it to end like this. That being said, while this is not the ending I would have chosen, I also can't say I dislike this ending. We watched these character going through year after year of hell and the fact that most of them have a good life and there is a happy-ish ending to this...well, I'm content with it. Riverdale, for me, probably will be the first four seasons, but I don't hate this ending.

Anyway, we start with an Eight Six year old Betty who's learned Jughead has passed away. Betty is now the last of the gang to survive. Betty wants to visit Riverdale one last time and her granddaughter promises to take her there the next day. That night Betty is visited by Angel/Writer Jughead who takes her back to the last day of high school so she can see her friends one last time. During these moments we find out what happened to all of the characters. And I'm just going to go through this real quick.

Ms. Andrews will fall in love with a woman who will live in the with Ms. Andrews until she passes away. Polly will end up having her twins (Juniper and Dagwood). Alice will eventually divorce Hal (I think, my cable screwed up and I missed part of this), become a flight attendant, and marry someone else.

During junior year of high school, Fangs records a hit single and is able to convince Midge's parents to let him marry her. Their happiness is short lived as, not long after high school, Fangs goes out on tour and is killed in a bus accident. Midge and her daughter will live off the royalties of Fang's two songs (right).

Pop's apparently dies before the kids graduate high school. That's the grave Betty is visiting. The writers clearly are choosing violence here.

Clay and Kevin move to Harlem together. Clay becomes a professor at Columbia (I think) and Kevin opens his own off Broadway production. Kevin will die of old age in his sleep and Clay will pass away a few weeks later sitting on a park bench.

Cheryl and Toni move west and live a more bohemian life. They have a son named Dale (after Riverdale). They will live a long and happy life together.

Reggie will go on to play basketball for the Lakers and then become the coach at Riverdale High. He has two sons who will run the Mantle used car lot. Reggie was buried in Duck Creek.

As for the core four, well they all decide during senior year to all just date each other. Yup. Well, maybe, as we never see anything happen between Archie and Jughead. After high school....

Veronica moves back to LA and becomes a big movie mogul. I don't think it's directly said, but it seems like she was the first of the four to go. I does seem like Betty, at least, looses touch with her over time.

I'm not going to go into the last Barchie scene. While I didn't particularly like that couple, what the writers did in that scene was nothing short of sadistic to those fans. But one could argue that same was done to Bughead and Varchie fans in season four. Anyway, Archie will go out west and find a woman that he decides to settle down with. He lives a long, good life with her and, when he dies, he's buried next to his father.

Jughead will create Jughead's Madhouse Magazine (Mad Magazine) and had a successful life as a writer/editor. He never marries.

Betty also creates her own magazine. (And late '60s/early '70s Betty's look is my favorite Betty look). Betty never married, but she did adopt a daughter. Which she considers her legacy, her family.

Anyway, Angel/Writer Jughead takes Betty back to the present. The next day, Betty's granddaughter takes her to Riverdale. As they pull into Pop's parking lot, the building is for sale, she discovers Betty has died.

But then young Betty steps out of a car as she has been transported to an functioning Pop's Restaurant. Jason is at the door (yep, the actor is back). And everyone is there (well, of the cast that still worked on the show). And as the story ends, Betty joins the other three at the table and in the Hereafter.

Like I said, not the way I imaged the show would ever end. Not the way I would have ended it. Still, it was a very bitter sweet ending. I shed some tears and, yeah, part of me is sad to see it end.

Of course, that part of me will soon be knocked unconscious by my sanity....

[braveveth]

This is by no means an comprehensive list of aftg fic I very much adore and since I don’t know what you like it’s kind of a wild mix. But maybe there is something that catches your eye (and you don’t already know). Sometimes I have shortened the summaries to just a few tags so you might want to look that up for further information. It’s also a lot of AUs and so far only Neil/Andrew. If you are also interested in Kevin, Jean, Jeremy in some kind of combination- that’s a whole other list. If you’ve got questions, let me know. Otherwise: Enjoy :)

Push to talk by alexjosten | Firewatch AU: Neil needs a fresh start. He has a new name and a new job in the middle of nowhere, miles away from anything to do with Exy. The only person he speaks to is Andrew, who knows nothing about him... until Neil's past catches up with him.

And we‘ll be running by allysavedtheday | Band AU: It had been six months ago when Kevin called him, sounding drunk off his ass and on the verge of a breakdown, begging Neil for help as guitarist for The Monsters until Andrew comes back. First it was just something to vill the void. Now he doesn’t want to leave..

Sleeping with ghosts by boybeaulieu | Band AU / breakup and makeup: The Band AU where Andrew and his Monsters learn how to deal with notoriety while performing for an emo, grunge crowd. But what kind of musician has never experienced heartbreak? Not even Andrew, apparently.

Andrew Minyard‘s Diary by fuzzballsheltiepants | Bridget Jones AU: In which Andrew is Bridget Jones, Kevin is Daniel Cleaver, and Neil is Mark Darcy. Except none of them are like their inspiration characters at all.

We used to be friends by gluupor | Veronica Mars AU

No mourners, no funerals by gluupor | Six of Crows AU

Pie another day by gluupor | Basically a Pushing Daisies AU: very humorous

Murder boyfriends by justadreamfox | High School AU / Inspired by the movie heathers: It’s 1989. Riko Moriyama rules Westerburg High School and The Butcher rules Baltimore. Neil and Andrew are so, so over it. Shit’s about to get real

Such a fool for sacrifice by likeareacord | Bodyguard AU: Neil is a successful author with a stalker who seems to know a little too much about his past. He needs a bodyguard for his upcoming book tour. Enter: Andrew Minyard.

Meow Meow Lullaby by moonix | Library AU: When the existence of their library is threatened, rival librarians Neil and Andrew must team up to save it.

Much Ado by puddlejumper99 | Shakespeare AU: Loosely following the plot of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, avowed bachelor Neil is determined never to marry, and also determined to insult Andrew into an early grave. Meanwhile, Riko is plotting to ruin Matt and Dan's wedding.

(dont‘t fear) the reaper srcibbleb_red | Under world AU: Andrew and Neil don’t meet in life. They meet in limbo. Andrew is a Reaper – a ‘ferryman’ charged with taking the souls of the recently deceased through limbo to the Other Side. Neil wakes up dead – killed by his father – or so he believes. But as ever for our Foxes, nothing is ever as simple as it seems.

honey don‘t feed me (I will come back) by talls | Greek Mythology AU: There’s a new god in the pantheon; Andrew remembers hearing about the scandal a while back, the newest Demeter having a child with the current Zeus and then going on the run, child in tow. They call him Persephone, the god of springtime and new life, the antithesis of Andrew's realm. It would be ludicrous of Persephone to ever interact with Andrew at all. If only someone told Persephone that.

under the kitchen lights by ephemeralsky | Neighbours AU: in which Andrew and Neil are neighbors who do various neighborly things

Back to the start by fuzzballsheltiepants | Amenesia / hurt/comfort: Andrew has been on his pro team for 6 months when he takes a ball to the head. Neil flies to Boston to see him - only to find that Andrew doesn't remember him.

Feels like falling by gluupor | Post canon / Getting back together: After college Andrew left behind both exy and Neil. Five years later, he’s built himself a stable life with nothing wanting. Or so he thinks, until a chance encounter brings him back in contact with Neil.

hello world by lolainslackss | Canon Divergence / Enemies to lovers / Professional Exy: Everyone on the US national team knows that Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten hate each other, so of course they all think it's hilarious to force them to share a room in the name of 'team harmony' for the entirety of the Exy World Cup.

LIFE SAVER!!! this is wonderful tysm<3 very excited about a lot of these. that firewatch au… and the underworld one….

totally get you about it being a wild mix btw. i’m the first to admit i can be pretty picky about characterisation but with these books you could genuinely be reading the wildest of au’s and it could still be incredibly in character (and vice versa). so i’m up to try a lot and this is giving me a whole lot to try!!

[madsfrank]

The DLCs of New Vegas and Their Philosophical Importance in the Order of Release Date

Looks like September has brought about a fervor for New Vegas and this will be one of my entries to add to the pile. Some of this information is loosely based upon the actual game and in areas where interpretation is left up the the player, I did take some liberties. Overall this is just for entertainment and shouldn’t be used as definitive evidence for what exactly happened between these DLCs.

In New Vegas, the DLCs become the defining points of the game. They are designed to teach a lesson to the courier and hence the player about “what to do now?” In the post-apocalyptic wasteland. These DLCs are packed with philosophical takes and messages that vary depending on the type of person the player is or the future they have chosen for New Vegas. Here, I dive into the philosophical identities of the main factions and important individuals through the DLCs that connect back to ideology and plot. By no means is this a perfect explanation. I keep some parts vague that are supposed to be left up to the courier’s actions. However, this is to be used as a mental guide for the driving factors behind characters and the major messages one is to learn.

P.S. on each dlc section the main character’s past will be in chronological order as best as it happened to my knowledge as not everything has exact dates.

Dead Money:

The worst dlc in terms of gameplay but also has the most long standing message to relay back to real life and the main game.

Dead money follows the story of father Elijah. And Veronica and Christine. Elijah was a terrible elder in the BOS and with such left during a loss to the NCR in 2276 at Operation: Sunburst during the Brotherhood war (his next in line McNamara took over and they were weakened by this point so they went underground). Elijah then became obsessed with finding ways to destroy the NCR and in the process took his pupil (Veronica) away from Christine and when Christine (on a mission to kill him BOS orders) tracked him down finding tech in the Big MT (locked her away where she suffered brain damage from the testing the labs did).

He stumbles upon the Big MT during his travels in which he experiments on the Yangtze prisoners with explosive collars and beefing up his plan and defenses before going to the Sierra Madre in which he learned the location from Ulysses. He returns to the Think Tank after being captured upon his first entry (and escaping) and damages the robots to take control of the train network in order to escape. Which he does.

HERE IS WHERE THE STORY LINE CONJOINS

during this time another force Ulysses (spoken about more in later DLCs.) who was traveling to hunt the courier and find the past secrets of America and re awaken the old world to rise as a new home, a new power, saw this conflict. He points Elijah to the Sierra Madre and it’s hidden treasures which he hopes will kill the former Paladin and saved Christine to learn about the BoS which he realized was weak.

He then spoke to the Think Tank and challenged them to remember America. When they remembered a glimpse of the old world and what they fought for, they gave Ulysses instructions to return to the divide as “the voice of the old world” was left in the untouched missiles that had the power to reshape America through destruction much like the courier had done to his divide when they passed a package through the region containing middle codes that activated some missiles and mostly destroyed the place he called home and the place the though could become more powerful that the bull or bear.

Dead money focus on the ideas of letting go. Characters who can’t let go of goals or the past. Take Dean domino, still wanting to hold onto Vera Keys who was dead to her own disease and hand at the depression of being captured in the casino by the operator of the casino who was obsessed with her. He also is still determined to find what Sinclair kept hidden away in the vaults. Long after it would have mattered with the end of the world. Christine is obsessed with killing Elijah even though his lost ideals will lead to his death by the courier anyways. Much like how the operator of the casino was obsessed with keeping Vera locked away.

The courier has to also let go of the treasure they had found. The gold. They must let go of it and this is the most straightforward message. Caesar wants an idealistic society but when when he gets cancer, he can’t let go. House wants a idealistic old world society that he can never let go of (hence the strip)

It answers the question of “this is what I think is best for the post apocalyptic wasteland” and how most of it is just people clinging into a past victory or experience. (History would be Caesar and Joshua teaching the Blackfoot and beginning to take tribes over and becoming power blind.)

The NCR clinging to the constitutional law and pushing people who are just surviving in the wastes out via taxes and old world political ideals. This is also under the same message.

And of course, Elijah, he’ll best on power and controlling the Mohave to lead the brotherhood to victory, ultimately nearly destroyed his own people and went mad for the “power” of the Sierra Madre. Thinking he can make food from the vending machines and what not to build a new society where he can take over the Mohave (he begins to forget his brotherhood ideals.)

The gold in the vault is not that useful but it proves that this endless search for one’s own power was unfruitful. That even if they had seen the “gold” they would not be able to bring it back. AKA put there ideals in place.

Honest hearts

The story of the Malpais legate.

A new cannanite who joined the followers to spread his Mormon religion. Joined by Calhoun and Sallow. They were then held for ransom by the Blackfoot tribe along their pilgrimage and Edward Sallow trained them to use weapons because he was super smart and read books as a linguist and taught them to fight like Romans. Sallow become the leader of the Blackfoot tribe with Joshua as his first Legate. He takes the name Caesar and becomes mad with power as he makes his newly formed legion stronger soon after. It is during this time that he begins to take over the 87 tribes within a rough timeframe of like 25-30 years. He then spread to overtaking the NCR who had found the Hoover dam and wanted it for power as they spread throughout the region to establish rule. With five reports on killing Graham, the legion still held strong.

During this battle, the NCR managed to lure the legions more experienced legates and such into Boulder City where they were detonated. These legion individuals were under Joshua’s command.

Caesar (sallow) did not tolerate the loss of Hoover dam, he threw Joshua over the Grand Canyon covered in kerosene after the first battle.

But he lived. He states he found his faith again and lost the pride that Caesar had blinded him with. Even though his religion moves him to forgive Caesar, he still would easily strike down his followers while in new Canaan (his home)

That is until Caesar sends fourth Ulysses. For he brings the White Legs that he trained to destroy his home. In which Daniel (a missionary) and a few survivors including Graham would move to Zion and assume power amongst the sorrows and dead horses.

Graham’s story is one of redemption and blind revenge. He doesn’t know what the right course of action is anymore. He just has blind rage towards the Legion and now Caesar again. His story is heavily impacted by what happens to the leader of the White Legs when they are sent to hunt down Graham and the tribes in Zion.

Walking Cloud’s story is much of the same with Daniel trying to curb her rage by hiding her husband’s death. It’s like a microcosm of what’s to come with Joshua.

He has to grow as a person and realize that blind revenge will only sabotage his faith and morals and make him no better than the idealism that surround Caesar and the others like Elijah and House. His whole story is dependent on the helping of others and learning to assist rather than to take over or have full forgiveness to bad people or have blind rage. He must find a centre. A balance.

Old world blues

The story of a society stuck on loop.

The scientists in the big empty cannot accept the new world. They keep making new inventions for the old world which are fruitless, futile, and harmful to others. It is through this that following an ideology without change or recognition becomes dangerous. When Ulysses poses the question of them knowing their own history, it causes them, forces them, to remember their own past and what they have done. It ties together the main factions as well. Are all the main factions doing is forming a idealogical society that doesn’t reflect the views of the new world? Are they all just stuck on loop to try to create their own perfect vision which in the end will fail?

Each scientist also struggles to connect themselves to their more human form and loose empathy and compassion. They lose their humanity when the courier and Ulysses find them. Going as far as to trap a human away for experiments that will go nowhere (Christine).

In the end, these scientists have to find their humanity and use their tech to help the wastes instead of hiding it away (like the BOS to a extent) they have lost the connection to what it means to be a scientist and to help others as they shut themselves away and refused to acknowledge the new world as well, much like mr. House.

Mobius breaks free of the constant science that the Think Tank is up to and attempts to stop them from possibly hurting the wasteland. He also destroyed the data to the memories of the old world for the other scientists in a attempt to stop them from destroying the world with their science again.

In the process he ends up shutting the Big MT off from the rest of the wasteland with a barrier and shuts himself off with robo-scorpions he built. He left the Think Tank and made sure that the scientists would be too scared to leave by sending false messages to them and making them fear creating new technologies.

But when Elijah, Ulysses and others arrive, the Think Tank tries to push further to escape Mobius’s plans. By this point his own ideals had begun to deteriorate due to his use of chems and he had begun to go mad with the robo-scorpions and looses his own sight of fighting for the wasteland.

The courier then must confront him upon their own arrival and help the Think Tank and Mobius understand the world outside the Big MT and to stop loosing sight of the science that could save the wasteland and to stop living in a loop of the past from trauma.

Lonesome road

In my opinion the most confusing dlc

Ulysses’ tribe is destroyed by Caesar and his home with the twisted hairs (Dry Wells) was taken over by Vulpes who betrayed Ulysses by killing his group instead of working with them and Ulysses was forced under the Legion flag. He served as a nondescript courier for the Legion during this time as well and became a very powerful spy asset to Caesar.

It is also at this point we learn that it was him who discovered the Hoover Dam. Causing Caesar to go mad with the idea of it.

When Caesar became obsessed with the dam, Ulysses could not stop him. Even though he knew it would kill Caesar. Ulysses had seen how far Caesar would go to take the dam when he witnessed the burning of the Malpais legate.

Upon exploring the wastes for Caesar, he found the Divide and due to the destruction of his own tribe, saw it as a home for himself. He thought it could be better than the legion or the NCR. He stayed for a short time and wanted to use it to out think the Legion. However it was then taken over by the NCR while he worked for the Legion and while he was not there to protect The Divide (nor could he save it single-handedly) the Legion then sent supplies to take The Divide over. Placing legion soldiers and NCR soldiers within the town at once.

This is when the courier unknowingly brings a NCR package from Navarro containing launch codes for the missiles that lay under The Divide. This would lead to the bomb going off after the courier left and destroying The Divide and NCR and legion within (making them into the marked men. Filled with hatred with their factions for abandoning them).

Ulysses nearly died but was saved by medical Eyebots. Who were activated with the bombs. They believe he was a pre war soldier with the American flag on his back.

He blamed the courier and returned to the only man who accepted him, Caesar, in 2277 after the loss at Hoover Dam. This is where he would witness the burning of Joshua. (He was not actively in the Legion while the first battle happened).

When Caesar learned that Graham had lived, he sent Ulysses out after him along with the White Legs. This would be his last mission for Caesar as he left soon after to better himself and reawaken the history of America. During this time he took a temporary break as a big Horner farmer and a courier.

Later on, he found about about the old world technology in the big empty and travelled there. He followed the irregular weather patterns from The Divide to the Big MT in which he used the geographical maps there at the weather station to map out where he would build his base back at the divide later on where he wanted to face the courier.

This is where he meets Elijah and Christine.

During his time as a courier, so a bit in the past before meeting Christine and Elijah, when he was retired as a bighorn farmer, he was hired to carry the platinum chip. But when he saw the couriers name on the list he told Nash that they should carry it instead as he wanted to see the courier dead on this important mission for destroying The Divide. He thought the wasteland would kill the courier instead of him having to himself.

When the courier survived Benny and the Khans. He vowed to bring the courier to him in The Divide.

When the courier is in The Divide, they are forced to walk the lonesome road and go through the travels and horrors that Ulysses had to go through when The Divide was destroyed and in the end, the courier is faced with Ulysses wanting to destroy the Mohave and deciding to make him see the light with the couriers faction or killing him.

Ulysses can also be forced to accept that it is these individual people that hold the new world together and that the old world and it’s pointless to murder all who wave the flag of the bear and bull. An important development in the concept of him “letting go” of the old world and his idea of a home. His idea of building up something as great as the old world once was. Ulysses is still a man. He’s still idealistic in that he wants to form his own home. One based in old world values with new world truths and while the divide seems like a decent plan for him, he soon falls victim to blind rage for the NCR and Legion. Yes, they both help to destroy his home, but in turn, he becomes just as violent as they were to him. Which removes him from this new independent plan and sends him spiraling into only removing the ideologies of the bear and Bull.

(He also makes it very clear that even a independent Vegas would fail under house and maybe even under the courier. So this part is truly left to the couriers own faction.)

This dlc is all about the importance of home. And that it may not be the place where you were born. It also touches on how to move on from a home. Moving on from idealistic ideas out in place by factions as well. Seeing the world for what it is and truly being alone.

Another important character here is the copy of ED-E who has been created by the Enclave by a doctor with good morals and who didn’t want to see his tech harmed (Whitley) and he sent this ED-E to navarro not knowing it had fallen to NCR forces. This Ed-e contained more logs on Enclave scientist Dr Whitley than the original does after the original was damaged but both contained lost information on the Enclave that Whitley had sent out to try to send to other parts of the Enclave. However the original was taken down near Primm. The copy had data downloaded from the original ED-E upon the courier entering the divide.

This is just important as it established another character desperately searching for navarro even though it has fallen. With the hollow words of its old master and a goal (much like houses, Caesars, and Elijah’s) that can never be accomplished.

Overall, idealistic societies are formed off of the opinions of the few. These societies falter as we reduce them to just a namesake. A flag. There are people within these flags, caught up within the ideals of their leaders and rulers. Even Ulysses becomes blind to his own former goals of a community of people working together without a flag. A home. Until those individual people are recognized, until they, the small groups that lie among the Mojave, the tribes and those in towns like the divide before it’s destruction, are recognized as part of the world they inhabit instead of just ideals of their masters and gods….war never changes.

[clarasghosts]

the thing about having curly hair is the way american society will just straight up lie to you about it. growing up, i didn't even really notice the insidiousness of it in popular culture, how rarely any actor was allowed to have their natural type three or four hair on screen. instead, of course, i internalized it all. the villainy of curly hair (i.e. the antisemitism of mother gothel's depiction in tangled or the racism of veronica mars in only letting tessa thompson have her natural hair during her character's "bad" arc and then straightening it when her character turned "good") the messiness and undesirability of curly hair (the princess diaries).

i inherited my hair from my father (cropped military short), who got it from his mother (always cropped short and straightened). as a toddler, i'd tell people i wish i had "lines" like my mother (i didn't know the word "straight"). (as a counter to this, my favorite spice girl when i was little was scary spice because of her hair; she was really the only major pop culture icon i knew of at the time with all her curls on display.) as a preteen, i'd wished that i could undergo the mia thermopolis makeover.

the 2000s/2010s were really quite awful. the 2000s loved very straight hair, maybe some controlled waves. the 2010s loved to straighten and then "curl" every single actress' hair, so they'd have those big loose "curls" that were really just glorified waves (think every single girl in pretty little liars after the pilot; rip maya's hair from ep1).

and the lie? the lie is how every woman i didn't know would come up and tell me in public how she loved my hair, how people pay big money for my hair, how she'd kill to have hair like mine. society would tell me to be grateful for my hair and then turn around and feed me myths about how my hair meant moral failure.

i love my hair now and i've learned how to care for it. i've also recently stopped shaving the space between my brows because, actually, i love my unibrow too. (my brows have always been big - another nightmare, growing up in the 90s and 00s where brows were pencil thin.) but none of this has been without a fight, and i don't know if the battle overall will be won in culture anytime soon.

[neverscreens]

MASTERLIST OF SCREENCAPS, PT2.

Click here to go to part 1.

I hope its useful and helps you find what you need! Don't forget that besides these packs we also have individual posts, from since the beginning of this blog in 2017!

FULL SEASONS SCREENCAPS.

Looking for Alaska, Whole Miniseries.

Heartbreak High, Season One.

Fate: The Winx Saga, Season Two.

Pistol, Miniseries Complete.

Panic, Complete.

The Bear, Season One.

The White Lotus, Season Two.

GAP: The Series, Being updated.

Wednesday, Season One.

Young Royals, Season Two.

Gossip Girl, Season Two.

MOVIES SCREENCAPS.

Passengers, 141 Screencaps.

Red Riding Hood, 334 Screencaps.

Can't Buy Me Love, 240 Screencaps.

Coraline, 780 Screencaps.

Jennifer's Body, 670 Screencaps.

The School for Good and Evil, 896 Screencaps.

The Nightmare Before Christmas, 609 Screencaps.

Monster House, 540 Screencaps.

Fear Street: 1994, 377 Screencaps.

Corpse Bride, 924 Screencaps.

Fear Street 1978, 489 Screencaps.

Fear Street 1666, 433 Screencaps.

Scooby-Doo and the Witch's Ghost, 403 Screencaps.

Beyond the Universe, 481 Screencaps.

Clouds, 642 Screencaps.

My Policeman, 810 Screencaps.

Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me, 800 Screencaps.

Holidate, 401 Screencaps.

Last Christmas, 397 Screencaps.

Falling for Christmas, 722 Screencaps.

Pearl, 441 Screencaps.

The Lost Girls, 190 Screencaps.

Disenchanted, 700 Screencaps.

Let it Snow, 370 Screencaps.

20th Century Girl, 403 Screencaps.

Guardians of the Galaxy Holiday, 305 Screencaps.

Dear Zoe, 202 Screencaps.

Something from Tiffany's, 279 Screencaps.

Hotel for the Holidays, 373 Screencaps.

The Princess Switch 2, 580 Screencaps.

Sharp Stick, 228 Screencaps.

Cow Belles, 289 Screencaps.

LOOSE EPISODES.

Only Murders in the Building, 96 Screencaps.

Never Have I Ever S03E01, 109 Screencaps.

Hunters S01E01, 81 Screencaps.

High School Musical TMTS, Season Three Almost Complete.

The Rings of Power. First three eps.

Christmas in 2 Broke Girls, 86 Screencaps.

Christmas in Friends, 109 Screencaps.

Christmas in TVD, 166 Screencaps.

The Addams Family '64, 233 Screencaps.

Pretty Little Liars S05E13, 220 Screencaps.

MISCELLANEOUS: INTERVIEWS, VLOGS, LIVE AND GAMES.

Ross Lynch, 36 Screencaps.

Taylor Swift JIMMYF, 45 Screencaps.

Claudia and Kennedy Walsh Xmas Vlog, 140 Screencaps.

Jenna Ortega in Technicolor, 58 Screencaps.

Jão VEVO Performance, 94 Screencaps.

Xmas w Claudia + Kennedy Walsh, 104 Screencaps.

Olivia Rodrigo MetGala22, 93 Screencaps.

Billie Eilish Beauty Routine, 75 Screencaps.

Billie Same Interview 6th Year, 137 Screencaps.

Millie Bobby Brown Lie Detector, 102 Screencaps.

Elizabeth Olsen for IGN, 33 Screencaps.

Elizabeth Olsen's 5-minute easy radiant skin routine, 113 Screencaps.

Elizabeth Olsen was raised on Musicals and Sitcoms | W Magazine, 77 Screencaps.

Iman Vellani on Ms. Marvel’s POWERS and How The Marvels Fits into the MCU (Exclusive), 45 Screencaps.

MUSIC VIDEOS.

Britney — You Drive Me Crazy, 61 Screencaps.

Taylor Swift — Anti-Hero, 110 Screencaps.

Taylor Swift — Bejeweled, 98 Screencaps.

Sabrina Carpenter — Nonsense, 118 Screencaps.

Hailee Steinfeld — Coast, 87 Screencaps.

Camila Cabello — Havana, 55 Screencaps.

Sabrina Carpenter — Skinny Dipping, 75 Screencaps.

XG — Left Right, 189 Screencaps.

Rosalía — Con Altura, 61 Screencaps.

Twice — Set me free, 131 Screencaps.

Ive — Kitsch, 162 Screencaps.

Jisoo — Flower, 114 Screencaps.

CHARACTERS SCENE PACKS.

Amanda Seyfried in The Dropout, 323 Screencaps.

Robby Keene, S03, 101 Screencaps.

Jules Millin S19E02 — Grey's A., 56 Screencaps.

Isadora Artinan — ELITE, All Scenes in S06.

Judith Grimes — TWD, 118 Screencaps.

JOY in Once Upon a Small Town, All Scenes S01.

Mariana Foster GT S04, 118 Screencaps.

Mariana Foster TF S04, 76 Screencaps.

IU in Persona, 102 Screencaps.

Anita — Bom dia, Veronica S01, 139 Screencaps.

TRAILERS

Elemental (2023), 29 Screencaps.

The Super Mario Bros. Movie, 67 Screencaps.

Emily in Paris S03 Announcement, 43 Screencaps.

Emily in Paris S03 Trailer, 122 Screencaps.

Scream 6, 30 Screencaps.

Barbie Teaser, 44 Screencaps.

Renfield, 108 Screencaps.

You S04, 97 Screencaps.

[onceuponastory]

nowhere to run - steve kemp x reader

Plot: After Y/N sees something she wasn’t supposed to, Steve makes sure she knows there’s no way out. Pairing: Steve Kemp x Female!Reader Warnings: 18+ PLEASE! Graphic descriptions of blood, gore, violence and body parts/corpses. Mentions of death/serial killers/murder, and cannibalism. Also mentions of nausea and vomiting. Basically, everything Steve does to people in Fresh is a warning. And of course, Steve Kemp, because he’s a warning all on his own. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: This is for @whumptober day 2, aptly named: Nowhere to Run. Also, this is loosely based on the song Veronica, Open the Door from the Heathers musical. Thanks again to @staticscreenwriting for my dividers!

Locking the bathroom door behind her, Y/N feels her stomach twisting as bile rises up her throat. Thankfully, she makes it to the toilet in time, and empties her stomach into it. Her hands grip the sides of the toilet, holding on so tightly her knuckles turn as white as the porcelain. Oh god. Oh god, what is she going to do?

A knock suddenly sounds at the door. “Y/N, are you alright?” Steve calls. When there’s no reply, he knocks once more. “Come on sweetheart, just let me in.” Y/N squeezes her eyes shut tight to try to shut out Steve’s voice. Her body shakes in fear, and silent tears stream down her cheeks as she tries desperately to hold in her cries and stay quiet. 

“Just stay still and quiet. Just stay still and quiet. He can’t hurt you if you’re in here. Just. Stay. Quiet.” She repeats to herself, hoping it calms her down. Although she knows it’s impossible by this point. And to think things were so different only a few minutes ago. All Y/N had done was innocently go to grab a bottle of water from her boyfriend Steve’s fridge. However, little did she know she would find herself in a nightmarish situation. Actually, this is far worse than a nightmare. As she reached inside, her hand brushed against something soft and squishy. When she looked up, she was confronted with the sight of a human leg. At first, she was stunned into silence, and hoped that if she just shut her eyes and wished for long enough, the leg would disappear. Because after all, who expects to see a human leg in their boyfriend’s fridge? It was probably just her overactive imagination. Or at least, that’s what she hoped it was. However, when she opened her eyes again, to her horror, the leg was still there. Then, her eyes darted across the rest of the contents of the fridge. Horrifyingly, the leg wasn’t the only gory thing there. There was an arm with its hand attached. Another leg, presumably to match the one Y/N discovered. Other bags and containers with indiscernible things inside. But judging by the other contents of Steve’s fridge, she has an idea of what they are. And then, Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs and ran as fast and as far away as she could. 

Now, here she is. Hiding in her boyfriend’s bathroom, terrified that she’s going to be his next victim. After all, it’s his fridge. He must’ve known there’s body parts in there, which means he put them there, too. And now, she’s a witness. God knows what he’ll do to her now. Just thinking about it is enough to make her stomach churn again, and another wave of nausea hits Y/N once more. 

“Y/N. There’s no point pretending that you’re not in there. You can stop hiding now.” Steve calls through the door. His tone sounds as if he’s punishing a child for hiding from their parents, and not because someone found out that he had dismembered limbs in his fridge. “Darling. It’s okay. I promise.” Hi’s voice sounds again, his voice now softer and sweeter. In an instant, he’s back to the same kind and caring person she thought he was. She tries to ignore how it feels to hear Steve calling her darling, and how much she’d love to feel his lips on hers again.

“It’s just an act. He’s lying to you. He has been this whole time.” She tells herself. Staying strong, Y/N doesn’t respond to him, hoping he gets the hint soon and walks away. That plan works, until he says:

“It’s really not that big a deal, you know.” 

“Steve! You have body parts in your fucking fridge! How is that not a big deal?!” she exclaims. “What the fuck?!” Steve sighs defeatedly.

“Well, I did tell you not to go into the fridge, but you disobeyed me. I mean, I hate to say I told you so, but it’s not my fault you looked, or that you didn’t like what you saw.” After hearing that, her anger grows. He’s seriously trying to blame her for this when he’s the one with body parts in his fridge.

“I wanted a bottle of fucking water Steve, how the hell is that my fault?! And what do you mean it’s my fault that I ‘didn’t like what I saw’? How else was I supposed to react? What do you want me to say? ‘Sorry I expected normal shit in your fridge and not a fucking leg’?” She shouts through the door. Steve tuts.

“Can you calm down, please? You’re really being quite hysterical.” Y/N’s mouth drops open, and she starts crying again. She never thought he was like this, so dangerous and callous. “Y/N. Calm down.” He repeats, which does little to quell her alarm. 

“Steve, stay the fuck away from me.” She orders. “I’m not going anywhere with you ever again. You’re a fucking-”

“For god’s sake! Just shut up for five fucking minutes so I can explain!” He shouts suddenly, his soft persona completely gone. The change makes her yelp in fear, and the tears stop soon after. Steve sighs. “I was going to tell you eventually, you know....sort of.” He laughs. Y/N decides not to ask him what the ‘sort of’ means. She has a few guesses, though. “But if you must know, I sell people’s meat and personal effects on the black market. Specifically, women. It gets me a lot of money. You know, you really should be more grateful. I mean, how else do you think I could afford all your gifts and presents?” 

Y/N glances down at her wrist and at the bracelet dangling from it. When she was presented with the Tiffany box on her last birthday, she was so surprised and grateful, slipping it on her wrist right away. All she wanted was to show both it and Steve off to everyone she ever knew, and show them all how lucky she was to finally find a good boyfriend who bought her expensive gifts like this. And now, she’s terrified to even be in the same room as him. She stares at the bracelet, watching as it glints in the light. How much pain and suffering had to happen for her to get this? Disgusted, she rips the bracelet off and throws it across the room, hearing it clatter against the floor.

“Steve.” She begins, taking a wary breath. “...Do you eat them, too?” She asks. She knows it’s a stupid question. Why else would he sell human body parts and have so many of them in his fridge? Steve laughs coldly. 

“What do you think? Of course I do.” Fear courses through her veins at hearing his nonchalant attitude towards this. How could he be so calm about this? What happened to the sweet man she fell in love with? But then again, he probably never existed at all. It was just a ruse to draw her in, and she fell hook, line, and sinker for it. Her entire dating history with Steve, and everything she knew was just a lie. And now she’s about to be murdered.

“A...Are you going to eat me, too?” She asks.

“...Maybe.” He replies, and she lets out a whimper. “I was at first, but now I’ve spent more time with you and bought you gifts...I’m not so sure anymore. If you behave, I might keep you alive.” Her ears perk up at that. If she behaves? Maybe, she’s got a chance to get out of here.

“If I behave? What do you mean?”

“Well, first sweetheart, you have to open the door.” Her eyes glance to the doorknob, and she lifts her hand for a moment. 

“Just do it.” A little voice sounds. “For freedom.” But then a question enters her mind, and she stops. “Are there women here, Steve? People you’re going to eat?” Steve huffs.

“Does it matter? Just open the door.” 

“Just tell me the truth. Are there women here, Steve?” Even though she already knows what his answer is. 

“Yes. They’re downstairs, actually. I have a special place for them.” She can just picture the look on his face as he says that. Her hand drops. “But I keep them safe and well fed. I don’t mistreat them. Unless they act up, that is.” Involuntarily, she rolls her eyes. Ah yes, at least he feeds them. Because that’s what she was so worried about, not the fact that he eats human flesh and is a fucking murderer. “If you’d like, you can meet some of them.” 

“No thanks. I’d rather stay here.”

“You sure? I really think you should come and meet them. Depending how things go...you might be joining them.” Her blood runs cold. Her anger from before fades, replaced by more fear. She starts hyperventilating, and her body shakes again as more tears fall.

“Steve...” She whimpers. “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I swear!” She begs through tears. In response, Steve just sighs.

“You know I can’t do that.” He knocks again. “Now. Come on. Open the door, please.” He orders. “You can still choose me, you know. We can talk this out and decide what will happen.” He tells her, his voice firmer. Something tells her that Steve will be the one deciding her fate, rather than her.

“No. I want nothing to do with this.”

“You sure? If you stay with me, I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You wouldn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to.” Steve encourages. “Think about it. No more money issues. Fancy cars, nice clothes, everything you’ve ever deserved.” Images flash through her mind as his words soak into her. Images of shopping sprees, of all her wishes coming true, and of her and Steve, together forever. “Just open the door, Y/N.” As if pulled by an imaginary force, Y/N’s hand lifts once more. But as it brushes against the doorknob, more images flash through her mind. Ones of blood, and violence…and all the body parts in Steve’s fridge. Violence that she’ll be complicit in if she joins him.

“No.” Her words come out mumbled at first, so Steve says,

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“No.” she repeats. “I’m not joining you, I-I’m not being complicit in this.” Steve is silent once more, and Y/N’s blood runs cold as she wonders what he’s going to say and do to her.

“Well, if you want to choose never seeing the sunlight again, then so be it.” He sighs. Y/N panics again. Oh god she was right. She’s going to die. The doorknob jiggles as Steve tries to open the door, and she silently praises herself for actually remembering to lock it. At least she won’t die right away. The praise is short-lived, however, as soon Steve slams his hand against the door in frustration, letting out an angry curse as he does so, the sound making her jump. “Fine. You want to stay in there? Be my fucking guest.” He hisses. “But you’ll need to come out soon, and I’ll be right here when you do. Either you come out willingly, or I’ll make you. Mark my words. There’s nowhere else to run, Y/N.” He warns. Pressing her ear to the door, she hears footsteps retreating. 

After the footsteps stop, Y/N breathes out a sigh of relief before her legs give way, and she crumples to the floor, sobbing. 

After a while, Y/N opens her eyes, squinting at the bright lights in the room. She must’ve fallen asleep. For a moment, she wonders where she is, hoping she’s at home and in her bed. However, as she wakes up more, groaning as she moves to sit up, she realises she’s still in Steve’s bathroom. The horrible situation and the fear dawns on her once again. She pulls herself up, her legs half asleep. She doesn’t even know what time it is. Her phone is still in the living room, and no doubt Steve’s already using it to tell her friends not to worry about her, and that she just needs to disappear for a while. Y/N glances around the room, trying to see if there’s a window or something she could sneak out of before Steve realises.  

But unfortunately, there’s no window in the room, and nothing for her to use as a weapon either. “Fuck.” She hisses. For a moment, she almost laughs. Because of course, there’s no fucking window. Of course life couldn’t just let her have this one fucking thing, this one smidgen of hope. She’s probably going to die because there isn’t a window in this room. This definitely isn’t how she thought her death would go, or what her last thoughts would be. She leans against the wall, sighing. Her best hope is probably unlocking the door and trying to run, but no doubt Steve’s sitting outside the door to grab her as soon as she tries to leave, just as he promised.

Speaking of the devil, Steve’s voice soon returns to the door. “Yoo hoo! Y/N! Open up!” He calls. Her heart drops as the knocking resumes once more. 

“Just go away Steve. Please just go away.” she begs silently, hoping that someone, somewhere in the universe hears her and puts an end to this. Even though deep down, she knows it’s already too late for her. 

“Oh, you don’t wanna answer this time? Well, I told you. Either you come out yourself...or I have to drag you out. Guess you chose the second option.” To Y/N’s horror, the sound of the banging is replaced with an even louder banging. The door shakes and buckles as the banging echoes through the room. The sound reverberates through her entire body, and it scares the shit out of her. “I warned you Y/N!” Steve calls. “It’s nobody’s fault but your own!” Y/N gasps. He’s trying to break the door down with what sounds like a fucking baseball bat. And by the sound of it, he’s getting close. Hurriedly, she backs away from the door, moving away just in time before part of the door smashes into pieces, causing her to scream. Steve’s head pokes through the gap, and he grins when he sees her. “There you are.”

“Steve, w-wait please...” she begs, but he shakes his head. His arm reaches through the gap, and he unlocks the door, stepping inside. 

“Now...let me introduce you to the others.” 

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[squalodinoappreciationsquad]

THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN.

So, I do mention stuff about Squalo's femily in this post: https://squalodinoappreciationsquad.tumblr.com/post/739709038808449024/headcanons-squalos-family

Now, whilst I might not have the ability now for the entire family tree, I CAN delve a bit more on the issues Squalo's parents have and maybe also why I headcanon Squalo with daddy issues and overcompensation issues.

Squalo's mother and father

I have said that Squalo's dad is your classic case of deadbeat dad and also a huge case of "I pretended I wanted a kid until I could not anymore, I never wanted kids and my fiancée getting pregnant and keeping the baby was a huge mistake and I want no part in this".

I named this guy Livio Superbi, he is Squalo's biological dad.

He never actually put any signature on Squalo's birth certificate, so Squalo actually only has a "Genitore 1" signed, aka his mother Veronica Fontana.

Now, Veronica and Livio met at a fencing competition, they were both fencers at an agonistic level, they liked each other, things got heated because Veronica was a very straightforward woman and Livio loved that.

They officially decided to get engaged at 24 years old, after three years of dating, and were supposed to marry one year later.

Both families were so happy about them until Veronica brought home a positive pregnancy test.

And Livio was not thrilled.

He started questioning whether this baby was actually his, therefore Veronica did a DNA test and confirmed that the baby was his son.

This was done only and exclusively to keep the press at bay - let me remind you that both Livio and Veronica were fencers at an agonistic level.

So the press was all over.

And Livio shut up and pretended everything was fine until the day before the wedding.

That day he basically left to never come back - Veronica was by now 7 months pregnant.

All hell broke loose.

The press sharks were making the rounds, and whilst Veronica had to be rushed to the hospital due to stress and all collapsing around her, both families agreed that Livio had to be disowned and they also tried pressing charges, but the man was already in Argentina by then.

Veronica was then physically fine and gave birth to a baby boy she named Andrea - and this one would become the Squalo Superbi we all love.

Emotionally though. This was the end of all trust she had and the end of her being in love, therefore becoming a bit harsh - that's why Squalo does not define her as "sweet" or "nurturing", but nevertheless mother and son love each other dearly.

Livio Superbi was served with a court o0rder to pay alimony, but he found a way around it. He basically renounced any parental rights and got rid of the Italian citizenship, both by applying for the Argentinian citizenship and by marrying an Argentinian woman called Felicia Suarez.

Karma is a bitch and his wife ended up having not 1, but 3 kids - this time too he didn't want them, but his wife's family had enough dirt on him that he would not be able to live peacefully ever at all.

They were ready to dig up anything related to Veronica Fontana and include her - there was a barely missed court hearing where Veronica would have been able to sue the man's ass for everything he was worth, but this never happened as the man finally decided that maybe it was time to take on a tiny bit of responsibility.

But does Squalo know about his father and his half-siblings?

Yes.

Once in the Varia he was sent on a mission in Argentina and that was where he met his bio dad.

The meeting did NOT go well.

Livio: I WISH YOUR MOTHER ABORTED YOU, YOU RUINED MY LIFE.

Squalo: WELL GOOD RIDDANCE, MY MOTHER DESERVES WAY BETTER THAN A COWARD LIKE YOU.

Etc etc.

The half-siblings kind of apologised and whilst Squalo does not feel any bond with them, he doesn't hold any grudge against them. They occasionally write each other.

There was actually a moment where Livio Superbi tried to come back when his father passed away suddenly of cancer and he wanted some of the inheritance, but he was presented with the papers detailing that he had been disowned and cut off from the family and so he never tried anything after this.

This is what I have. Thoughts?

Squalo's daddy issues and overcompensation

Now, because of all of this, I think Squalo has quite a few daddy issues. He didn't grow up with a father and his mother has been unwilling to find a father figure for him - in her words "your father was a piece of trash, you are growing up just fine with me only, why would you need a father anyway?"

Which means that Squalo really didn't have any male figure to relate to directly. Yes, he has an uncle and and a grandpa, but they would not see him as a son.

Though he has accidentally called Romario "dad" a few times, whilst hanging out with Dino.

Dino is notoriously the guy who grew up without a mother, Squalo is definitely a guy who grew up without a father.

Which also brings me to think that his daddy issues are what is bringing Squalo to follow men with ambition. And also, given the whole background, Squalo has also an idea of loyalty that is ABSOLUTE.

Which also brings up OVERCOMPENSATION. Because Squalo does feel like a perfectionist in all ways and he may feel lacking in something, then he has to compensate elsewhere to bring the metaphorical balance he has in his head in perfect equilibrium.

This is good when everything is going well, but when things go south it's an absolute debacle.

And this is what I think. Any thoughts?

[darwinquark]

ok so I just re-read chapter 11 (INCREDIBLE and that sex scene you added at the end??? I died 🔥🔥🔥🔥 they are so hot and in lava and it made the ending even more devastating) and I know we still have one more to go before the sequel but I AM FERAL FOR THE SEQUEL. do you have any of it written you'd be willing to share as a preview or sneak peak? I just NEED NYC JERONICA 😫

!!!! goooorrrll you're an absolute trooper for re-reading that angst monster and lmao I'm so glad you liked the new bit 😂 Just felt like I need to twist the knife a little more, you know?

I'M ALSO PUMPED FOR THE SEQUEL largely because I am so tired of writing teen angst lmao. I actually do have a little bit of chapter one written but it's like super bare-boned and kind of spoilery, so probs not worth your time, buuuuut I do have this one scene I wrote like a year ago that's got a little more to dig into. I'm honestly not even sure I'm going to use it anymore since I've restructured this particular arc in my head a little, but I think you can get a decent sense for where they're at in the sequel. Jughead's pretty shitfaced in this scene after drinks/schmoozing with a potential publisher and Veronica's trying to get him into his apartment. For context, he's been icing her out pretty much the whole night and not really letting her do her job, so she's pretty pissed, and now he's just overly loose-lipped and instigating.

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

“You know, I dreamed about you.”

A cold swell of warning spread over her shoulders. She blinked, refocusing on trying to find the right key to his door. “Oh, yeah?”

“Just a few times," he ventured whimsically from behind her. "Especially about your… earlobe.”

“My earlobe.”

“Yep.”

“Just the one?”

“Mm, no. They were…” he struggled to find the word in his shitfaced haze, “alternating. Alternating earlobes.”

“I see.”

“You have very dreamable earlobes. Very difficult to… undream.”

“I’ll let them know.”

“I think I might’ve loved you.”

Her pulse stuttered abruptly.

She turned to look at him after a second, keys abandoned in the lock.

“Not like,” he pulled a sour face, all drunken exaggeration, “not like big, saccharine ‘you complete me’ love—just for a second. Just like a bite. Like a quick,” he gave a brisk, playful snap of his teeth, “and then fuck, ow, love, and then it went away. Maybe.”

She just stared at him for a beat, entirely blindsided. Rattled by the magnitude of the line he'd just crossed. Her hands felt numb. “You didn’t love me, Jughead.”

“Mm, I think I did,” he mumbled, slowly easing closer, palms landing on either side of her against the door. “I really think I did.” Her pulse shot up as his nose tipped forward to glide along the line of hers, a paralyzing invasion. “You didn’t? Not even for a second, just that little lick of pain,” he coaxed his head aside to ghost his lips down the curve of her throat, “just a quick, stupid little—” his teeth caught her neck in a swift nip and she inhaled sharply, hand snapping up to push him back.

For a second she just held him there, heart stumbling wildly in her chest.

Inches away.

Fingers knotted around his collar.

His eyes had an unsettling glint to them, like he couldn’t decide if he hated her or not. Like he was caught between wanting to grip her by the thighs or grip her by the throat, but neither one would quite be enough.

“Nah,” he finally murmured after a beat, dark gaze loosening as it flitted down her face. “You wouldn’t have left if you did. You couldn’t have.” His mouth took on a corrosive little curl as his gaze slid back up to hers. “I couldn’t have.”

She fought down the raw feeling swelling in her chest, forcing her expression into something neutral. Composed. He was drunk and reckless and raring to get under her skin. This was all for a reaction. “And now you’re taking boozy meetings with some of the most exclusive publishing houses in New York, so,” she tipped her chin up a fraction, a cold flare of hauteur, “I guess it’s a good thing I could.”

His mouth drifted into a mordant smile. “Hell of a spin, Lodge.”

“It’s Luna now,” came the firm reply.

He eyed her for a long beat, smile slowly slipping into something darker. Derisive. Lit with the glinting certitude of a liar spotting a liar. “No, it’s not.”

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