#and i just COULDN'T not doodle those two with this song

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twelve of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K (I got really carried away)

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+ just in case. References to sex, Implied Sex, Heavy Making Out (not really explicit, but also not real un-detailed…), Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soft Soldier Boy, Angst, Fluff.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

A/N: The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

**************************************

1984

You take a sip of wine, leaning over your coffee table to pull another photo from the Rosewood box perched on the edge. It's your birthday, your 65th birthday to be exact, of course one look in the mirror revealed that you barely looked over 30. To some women that might be a welcome thought, but given your current situation it wasn't.

It marked the fourth year since you told Ben that you were unhappy on Payback and as a supe, told him that you wanted a normal life, and four years after you'd let him talk you into staying. But this was the year. You were going to tell him that you were done, that you were moving on and getting out.

Unfortunately the only person you had to convince about letting go was yourself, because leaving meant giving up Ben. And you weren't sure that was something you could do.  You were having a hard time convincing your heart to let go of him or rather the old version of him, that only made it's appearance when it was the two of you. The memories that tied you to Ben were tight and difficult to unravel. You couldn't imagine your life without him, couldn’t see past this moment in your life.

But that's why you had to go. You knew you were in too deep. Fantasizing about a  relationship with someone who would never love you the same way you loved them, hoping in something that would never happen. And you needed to let him go, whether it be the new version of him or the boy you used to know, you needed to let Ben go.

The Rosewood box was filled with photos, old doodles, memories, and objects from your past. Usually it was stored under your bed, but tonight you had dragged it out into the living room to reminisce on your birthday. It was a tradition you started a few years ago as a way of remembering the past. Sometimes it was a welcome distraction from the way things were now and tonight you were letting it be a last supper of sorts, to indulge in the memories Ben and you had shared over the years before you told him that you were leaving.

You had no idea where you were going, but the thought excited you a little bit. Finally striking out on your own for the first time, doing something for yourself for once, it felt right.

Leaving Ben was the only thing that felt wrong. You wanted him to come with you, for him to choose you the way that you chose him that night, but you knew he wouldn't. He liked this life too much to let it go, he thrived in the spotlight, embraced everything about being a supe that you hated, and so you would let him go.

You look down at the strip of paper in your hand. It was a collection of photos from a photo booth, yellowed with age, but lined up one by one from the first baseball game Ben ever took you to, one of your favorite memories from your childhood. You were wearing the ridiculous pinstriped hat and Ben looked as handsome as he always did, smiling wide with his dark hair hanging in his face. It was hard to look at it now, hard to look at Ben and you when you were so young, and you didn't know where your lives were going to go.

Your eyes drift to the velvet case pressed into the corner of the wooden box. You had kept the ring that Howard got you, well, technically you had tried to give it back but he refused, begging you to reconsider.

Sometimes you thought about throwing it away. It was ugly, but it was a reminder. Not a reminder of Howard, you could barely remember what he looked like, but it was a reminder of the night Ben asked you to come with him. You could remember the earnest look in his eyes, how he cupped your face, and the promise he made to you. The future he promised had been filled with so much possibility, but you weren’t sure anymore. You think about the years you'd spent together and how leaving felt like the end of an era.

But it was necessary, breaking away from all of this would be good. Yes you would miss Ben, but you needed to move on. You knew that deep down. Because you wanted something more than all of this, and the night Ben asked you to come with him you thought he could give it to you, but after all these years you understood that he couldn’t and that he didn’t want to.

Someone knocks loudly on your door.

“One second.” You take the last sip of wine before standing and crossing the room to open the door. “Hey what are you doing here?”

Ben is standing in the hallway outside your apartment, looking handsome as always. He's wearing a tailored dark suit with a black tie, his hair is combed back from his face, dark stubble graces his rugged jaw and a wide smile pulls up at the ends of his lips that makes it very hard to focus on anything else. “Happy Birthday Sweetheart.” 

“I’ve had too many birthdays.” You laugh and wave a hand to brush it off. “What are you doing here, I thought you had an interview about the premiere tomorrow?”

Tomorrow night was the premiere of the third and final installment of Anti-Communist films that Ben was currently staring in. The first two had been utterly ridiculous and you knew that the one tomorrow would be just as pointless. Which you knew for a fact, because one day Ben asked you to meet him on set and you saw a scene he was filming, not to mention one time he tried to get you to run lines with him and you told him you'd rather drop dead than read Countess' lines, who took the co-star role when you refused. Ben’s offer of the co-starring role to you had been his way of appeasing you after you told him you were unhappy. When you refused, Countess had been more than willing to slide into it.  Who was still trying her upmost to get into Ben's pants, but he still completely ignored her, which gave you an unmeasurable amount of joy.

“I told them that I couldn’t miss my girl's birthday.” Ben smiles wider. “Plus I’d much rather spend tonight with you than those fucking vultures and I’ve never missed your birthday.”

Instead of the words "my girl" filling you with happiness as they had the first night Ben said it in the dancehall, they only make you frustrated. He had called you that several times over the years you'd been friends and each time it made you more and more angry. You were tired of it. Tired of Ben acting like Ben only when it was the two of you. Tired of Ben acting like he cared and like he wanted to be more than friends only to crush you the next day. Tired that he called you “my girl” and then did nothing that meant more than friends.  You loved him more than you’d loved anyone ever, took care of him, did everything you could for him, and each time when he didn’t acknowledge it, you felt like you weren’t enough. It made you feel like a kid again when you tried your upmost to please your mother only to have her be disappointed in you each time.

“That’s sweet.” Anger and frustration burns in the back of your throat, but you push it down with a tight lipped smile.

“And I got us reservations, so go get dressed.”

"What?"

"I got reservations. Come on." Ben makes a gesture with his hand.

“Oh I’m okay, I was just going to-“ You motion back at the bottle of wine, the couch, and the box of photos.

“No. I’m not going to let you sit here on your birthday. Come on. Let’s go.” Ben takes your arm and turns you around gently pushing you towards the small hallway that leads back to your bedroom with his hand on the small of your back.

You brace yourself for the warmth that follows with the brush of his fingers against you, but each time you're unprepared for how it makes you feel when he touches you.

“But I don’t have anything to wear! And if you do have a reservation, how much time do I have?” You argue, trying to come up with an excuse to avoid dinner.

As much as you wanted to go, you didn't want to sit there and pretend to be happy. You were tired of doing that, but then you raise your head to look Ben in the eye.

He's smiling down at you the same way he always has, looking like the boy who climbed in your window after flunking out of boarding school to bring you paint and your resolve wavers. You hated saying no to him.

Damn it.

“By the time you stop making excuses it will be time to go. And as sexy as those pajamas are, you can’t wear them to a restaurant.” Ben teases, tugging on the bottom oversized paint-splattered shirt you were wearing

“Fine.” You grumble, cheeks flushing bright red as you snatch the shirt from his hand. “Give me ten minutes.”

**************************************

"Shut up." Ben laughs from across the table at you. "Your mother loved me!"

His laughter is contagious, making your own release from your lips and ease the tension you are holding in your chest.

The Italian restaurant is small and filled with the soft lit of music from the band in the corner, the rich aromatic smell of food, and has the calming atmosphere of a intimate bar. When Ben parked out front, you were surprised. He usually liked the restaurants on page 6 where other heroes would be found eating and places where he could be photographed for the news, but this place was different, it was almost, special. And the way Ben was acting was unusual.

He'd walked around the car after he parked and took your hand in his, to lead you down the steps to the front door where a hostess had asked for his name. Ben had used his real name rather than Soldier Boy for a reservation and when you walked out of your bedroom wearing the dress you found at the back of your closet that you had for emergencies, you swore you saw his eyes darken as they trailed across your body making your breath catch in your chest. It was odd. Ben had taken you out for your birthday before, but tonight seemed to be filled with a palpable tension and electricity that you couldn’t place.

Then again, you were probably imagining it like always.

The restaurant was perfect, it made you forget about being a supe and the glamorous lifestyle that Ben indulged in and allowed you to pretend that you were normal. However, while you sat there together, you tried not to think about what you were going to have to tell him eventually, that you were leaving. He would ask for an answer why and you’d try to tell him the same thing you told him four years ago while avoiding screaming “because I love you, you fucking idiot” at the top of your lungs. 

But it was difficult to find a way to tell him, not when he had a soft smile on his face and every few minutes Ben would find some reason to touch you. So you allowed yourself to indulge in this, to have this last wonderful memory together before you have to tell him. And in doing so, you let yourself forget being a supe, forget everything else but Ben and you in this moment.

"Oh sure, you were her favorite." You snort into your wineglass. "She put a crucifix up over my window to keep you out. Every time you went to a new boarding school, she prayed in the living room with a rosary to God begging him to keep you far from me and she cried whenever you came back. Not to mention when you got me thrown out of boarding school she forbade me from seeing you-"

"But you couldn’t stay away." Ben sing-songs with a grin before taking a sip from his glass. "And your roommate was a fucking snitch."

"She was." You smile down at the table. "I also think she was a little jealous." You lean back in your chair, holding the wineglass in your right hand.

"Oh and why is that?" Ben's smirk widens.

"Don't make me say it-" Your eyes roll.

"Oh I want to hear you admit it." He leans towards you across the table, eyes shining with a mischievous glint that makes it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Not going to happen.”  You look around the room to distract yourself with the other couples.

All the tables around you were full of people sharing stories, holding hands, brushing feet under the table and for the first time you weren't jealous of their love. The couple next to you was practically breathing the same air, leaning towards each other with sappy looks in their eyes. You were happy for them, allowed yourself to be filled with compassion at their happiness. You remember what you said to Ben four years ago, about wanting to have someone to come home to, someone who loved you and then remember the night at the dancehall watching the elderly couple dance under the twinkling lights holding each other close and gazing deeply into one another's eyes.

You wanted someone to look at you like that, wanted someone to share you life with. You wanted that so badly, that in this moment you knew that you were making the right decision leaving because you would be closer to getting it, because the man across the table from you might be your best friend and have your heart, but he didn’t want to be more. And as much as it hurt to leave the only man you’d ever loved,  you knew it was the right thing.

Ben taps his index finger on your left hand where it rests on the table between you, drawing your eyes back to his. "Did I lose you Doll?"

"Hmm? No sorry. I was-" You smile at him. "Distracted. What were you asking?"

Ben's gaze shifts to the couple sitting to your right, the one you were watching a second ago, who are holding hands on top of the table. The man says something that makes his date laugh and lean towards him to grasp his other hand. The way he smiles at his date makes you smile. Ben's eyes slide back to yours and an odd look flashes through them that you can't identify.

"You know what I was asking." His index finger begins to brush over your knuckles in a smooth circular motion. Warmth trails with his touch, sending goosebumps dancing up your left arm.

Shock buzzes at the back of your mind, you didn't understand why he was doing that, Ben had barely had anything to drink tonight, in fact that was his first and only Whiskey. Not to mention when he showed up at your door he seemed more sober than usual. He didn't smell like reefer. So for him to touch you this much was unusual, especially when he wasn't drunk or high.

“Come on Sweetheart.” He smiles at you in a way that makes your heart ache.

"Fine. Pearl thought you were devilishly handsome and was upset that I danced with you when I had Howard-"

"Don't mention that pussy." Ben’s smirk drops into a frown and he stops moving his finger against the back of your hand.

"I don't understand why you were so jealous of him." You try not to think about how much you wish he would start moving his finger again.

"I was not jealous of that idiot." Ben rolls his eyes.

"Uh-huh. After all these years, you still can't admit it." You tease him taking another sip of wine. It was giving you a pleasant buzz that made you feel just a little bit warm and bold enough to make you brush your thumb against his where his hand sits only a few millimeters from yours.

If he was touching you, you thought that maybe it would be okay for you to touch him, maybe it was okay to pretend that he wanted to hold your hand as much as you wanted to hold his, like the couple next to you were.

"I will if you admit you were jealous of Missy Callahan." Ben's eyes trail down to your thumb before looking back up at you, waiting for your answer.

"I was not-"

Ben raises an eyebrow. “I can hear your heartbeat Doll.”

“Just as I can hear yours Darling.” You smile back at him.

“Y/n.” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculous smile. "Fine, I will admit that was a little jealous of her, but she was awful.  She was dumb as a rock and she was the most terrible gossip-"

"I knew it." Ben smirks.

You sit there in silence for a minute gazing at Ben, your eyebrow raised. "I'm waiting."

"Oh I'm not going to admit that I was jealous of Howard. I just wanted to hear you say the thing about Missy." Ben laughs, beginning to run his index finger against the back of your hand again. His eyes on yours, as if he's gauging your reaction.

"Bastard." You roll your eyes at him. "Did I tell you that I saw Howard?"

"What?" Ben looks surprised.

"Yeah, when I went to my brother's-" You clear your throat remembering when you saw Howard four years ago. You don’t know why he went to your brother’s funeral, but he was there, gray hair slicked back staring at you open mouthed. The last time you'd seen him was the day after he proposed, when you tried to give him back the ring and he refused, stating that he wanted you to keep it, to think about it. He never got over the break up, never dating anyone else, never married. It had been an awkward reunion, especially since he kept trying to corner you, but you evaded him expertly through the crowd. You weren't interested in making awkward small-talk about the past forty years.

Ben's hand finally slips into yours, intwining your fingers together because he understands what you’re about to say. "I'm sorry I didn't go with you, I should have."

It was weird that Ben wasn’t with you, but it was also weird because you tried to comfort your sister in law and her son and his family, but it felt forced. Ben was the only person who understood what it was like for everyone to age around you while you stayed the same. Standing there to celebrate the life of your brother while you, yourself couldn't die completely or even age felt awkward. You found yourself longing for Ben when you were away, wishing that he was there to hold your hand or try to deflect some of the awkward conversations, none of which were focused on your brother and were all about you being a supe. You hated how much you depended on him.

After the funeral you had stayed in Philadelphia an extra week to help your family and when Ben called to see how you were you broke down on the phone. Ben had showed up within the next hour at your hotel and sat with you while you cried. It was one of your favorite memories, because Ben held you gently against him, whispering "It's okay Sweetheart, I've got you" while you pressed your face into his shirt, letting the smell of whiskey and his cologne soak into your skin. It was so unlike him and it made you believe that Ben wanted more, but then he never acknowledged it, like always.

"Ben it's okay, you were there when it mattered. And you went to both of my parent's funerals. Surprising because my mother would have hated that you were there. Always said you were going to ruin my life." You meant for it to be a joke, but the look in Ben's eyes shifts to something more vulnerable for a millisecond before it hardens again.

"Did I?" He asks quietly. Ben looks down at where he was holding your hand, his thumb beginning to move over the smooth skin on the back.

The question catches you off guard. It was the very question that you had been considering the past few days before you finally decided to leave all of this and your best friend. But the truth was you didn't believe that Ben ruined your life, you blamed yourself, blamed yourself for loving your best friend, blamed yourself for loving someone who didn’t love you the same way.

And it wasn’t that you hated your life, it was different than what you would have planned for yourself, but you liked parts of it. Not to mention you would have hated it more if you had said no to Ben and married Howard. If anything, Ben had saved you and you were thankful for that.

Of course the way he's looking at you and holding your hand is making it difficult for you to consider leaving. It seemed like every time you tried, Ben would do something like this- take you out to dinner or act like he wanted you and only you, and then you would reconsider. Four years ago it had been him holding you after your brother’s funeral and now it was this.

"Ben." You sigh, squeezing his hand and putting as much love into your gaze as you can. "No. You didn't. If anything you freed me. I didn't want to be with Howard and I was too afraid to say it until you asked me to come with you.”

“He could have given you a life though. You said that’s what you wanted.” For a second you think you see Ben’s eyes flick to the couple on your right with his words.

Your mind stutters to a halt in surprise. He remembered what we talked about four years ago? After he almost killed Noir?

“Um-" You clear your throat to recover. "And if you remember that conversation, you should also remember I said I didn’t want that life with Howard.”

“Yes, but you said you wanted to marry someone.” The ends of his lip twitches, but he doesn’t smile. “Still waiting on that wedding invite.” His thumb is stroking long smooth patterns on the back of your hand, making your throat tight and making it impossible to think.

“I’m sure you’ll get it any day now. Legend is happy that I finally said yes.”

“I should have known. Y’all looked pretty cozy at that party two weeks ago.” Ben laughs. “So if you’re engaged to him, does that mean you don’t want your birthday present?”

“I’ve said it once and I’ve said it again, I’m too old for birthdays.”

“Then why did you come out with me?”

“Oh I’m just going to write this off as old friends having dinner. That or a kidnapping. You practically dragged me to the car.”

“Be thankful I let you change.” Ben replies.

“I don’t know, I think I would have really made a statement with my paint splattered shirt and sweatpants."

You’d chosen the dress you were wearing at random. It was a dark green, the same color as Ben’s supe suit, off your right shoulder cinched around your waist and fell elegantly to your ankles. It was one of your favorites, something you believed accentuated your body effortlessly.

"They were something. Though I think that you-" Ben pauses, dropping his eyes to where he's still holding your hand, before looking back up at you. "Um-"

"What?" You smile.

He clears his throat, a soft smile on his face. "I think you look beautiful now too."

Your next words dry up in your mouth, there's not a shred of joking or teasing in Ben's eyes. Ben had said it before, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes, but now there is only sincerity. And it makes your heart jolt out of rhythm.

He said too. That means that he thought I looked beautiful before when I was-

"Thank you." You flush red and squeeze his hand. "I don't think you look too bad yourself, you know, for a old man." You add that last part because you don’t know what to say when he's looking at you like that.

Ben's smile slips into a frown. "You should be nicer to me, I got you a birthday present."

“See, you keep saying that, but I haven’t seen it.”

“I thought you didn’t want it.” The mischievous glint is back in his eye.

“I could be persuaded.” You smirk.

Ben releases your hand and reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a long navy blue velvet box wrapped in a thick silver bow before sliding it across the white tablecloth.

“You get me another paintbrush?” You smirk running a fingertip over the velvet top to examine it while acutely missing the feeling of his hand grasped in yours.

“Something like that.”

“Did you steal it?” You pick up the box and wave it for emphasis, remembering all the times Ben stole little things from the stores that lined Downtown Philadelphia and the box he had hidden under his bed filled with random trinkets.

You never understood why he did that. Ben's family was almost as wealthy as yours and although his father didn't approve of anything Ben was doing, he never cut him off.

“Maybe.” He shrugs and leans on the table towards you, his eyes filled with excitement.

“With how much money they pay you for those ridiculous films you shouldn’t be stealing anything.”

“I’m sure if you sold your artwork instead of shoving it in the closet you’d be just as wealthy as me.”

“Yes, but my grand plan is to have you pay for everything so I can continue to use you and I can’t do that if I’m rich."

“You can use me anytime sweetheart.” Ben winks.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at him, but can't stop the blush that stains your cheeks at his insinuation.

Everything about tonight felt just like old times, the way he joked with you and the way you couldn't stop smiling, but at the same time, something else nagged at the back of your mind. The handholding was new, as were the compliments and deeper conversation, especially because Ben wasn't drunk or high, and yet he was being gentler than usual, almost soft. And that was something Ben never was, at least not in public.

You tried not to be frustrated with the turn of events and just enjoy the moment, but deep down you wanted to know.

Was Ben doing this because he cared? Or was he doing this because he sensed I was unhappy and that I was leaving and he thought this was the only way to keep me around?

“Come on, open it.”

“Fine.” You smile down at the box and slowly slide off the bow. “Please tell me you have photos of you trying to tie this bow. Preferably while you were wearing your supe suit.”

“I already destroyed the evidence.”

 “Figures.” You sigh. “Would have been a nice birthday present.”

“I think this is better, but given the pace you’re going at I’ll still be sitting here waiting for you to open it at your next birthday.” Ben takes a drink from his glass.

“Which I won’t be celebrating.”

"Oh you're going to. I’ll make sure.” 

You roll your eyes at him, before finally opening the velvet box and your next joke is forgotten as you struggle to catch your breath. You were expecting something art related. Ben always got you brushes, paints, colored pencils, and any other art supply-like gift, because he knew that you liked those things but not tonight. Because for your 65th birthday Ben decided to get you something that took your breath away.

Nestled in black velvet is a pearl necklace, elegant, beautiful, catching in the fluttering warm light of the restaurant as the band in the corner continues to play a jazzy tune that makes you remember the records your father would listen to while he smoked before bedtime.

“Ben-“ You begin to say, but you can’t finish your sentence, you're too surprised to say anything else.

Not once in all the years you’d been friends had Ben bought you jewelry. Shopping for his birthday was harder, his last one you had gotten him a pair of silver cufflinks that he was currently wearing, but each time you bought him something like that it didn't feel like you were revealing too much about how you felt and it never felt like a gift you would give someone who was more than your friend. But now, staring down at the necklace that Ben bought you feels, intimate almost romantic.

“I remembered how upset you were when you lost the one your dad got you.” Ben says slowly, his eyes on you. “I know it’s not the same one, but the lady in the store said it was the most like the ones they made when we were younger and I thought-“ He rubs the back of his neck. “Um- I thought you’d like it.”

You smile, still unable to speak, fighting the happy tears that build behind your eyes. You had lost the necklace your father got you a few months ago and you tore your entire apartment apart to find it. Ben had walked right into the middle of the chaos and found you a sobbing mess.

Your father had bought it for you on your 23rd birthday. It was your first birthday as a supe and your first one away from home. Your father had it delivered to you with a vase of fresh cut lavender, because you couldn’t go home and he couldn’t get away.  It was one of the last things you had from him, besides the antique watch perched on your wrist.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.” You swallow the ball of emotion lodged in your throat.

“I do listen to you.”

You look up and raise an eyebrow.

“Sometimes.” His soft smile makes you feel light headed and makes you wish all over again that you had the courage to tell Ben the three little words that you'd always wanted to.

“I don’t know what to say-“

“Too much? Because I can take it back and buy you a paintbrush-“ Ben starts to reach for the box, but you catch his hand against the table tangling your fingertips together.

“No. It's perfect. Thank you Ben.”

He looks relieved by your answer. “You’re welcome.”

The soft sounds of conversation swell around you mixing with the tinkling of utensils against plates and the music that pours from the band in the corner where a singer dressed in a long red sequined gown sings a familiar song. But you can't stop admiring the necklace nestled in the fabric, your hand still clasped in Ben's on top of the table.

Ben finally breaks the silence. “Do you want me to help you put it on?”

You blink for a minute to comprehend what he was asking, raising your eyes to his genuine smile. "Please.”

Ben stands from his chair and comes around behind you as you gently twist your hair out of the way, so he has access to your neck. His rough fingertips brush against the smooth skin of your neck sending a shiver down your spine that you hope Ben misses because how would you explain that? When he secures it at the back of your neck you look down at the pearls, holding them between your thumb and forefinger.

"They're beautiful." You whisper, before looking back up at him.

"Yes, beautiful." He responds, but Ben isn't looking at your necklace, his eyes are locked on your face.

What is going on?

"Ben-" You begin to say, attempting for the first time to ask him why he does this, acts different around you, gives you hope and then takes it all away, but he interrupts you.

"Come on." His hand falls on yours and he pulls you up out of your chair, weaving through the other tables to stand in front of the band in the corner. His right hand finds the small of your back, while his left gently holds your right in the air.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ben smiles. "We're dancing."

"No one else is dancing." You look around the room at the couples sitting quietly together enjoying their meals, who have begun to watch Ben and you sway to the music.

He leans forward to whisper into the curve of your ear. "Then let's show them how it's done Sweetheart."

You can't help but laugh at him, enjoying the way that he feels pressed against you, how it makes you feel alive in the best way, how you feel safe in his arms. Being here, swaying to the last few notes of the song with him made you reconsider leaving again. Ben was the only person who knew you completely, inside and out, the only person who seemed to understand you. Choosing to leave him would be like choosing to leave home, because after everything you'd been through, Ben was home.

As soon as the song ends, the one that follows is familiar, a tune that sparks a memory at the back of your mind. You raise your eyes to Ben's. His are crinkled with his smile, a mischievous glint behind them.

"Ben, did you tell them to play-"

"Yeah. I told them to play our song." He whispers, holding you tighter against him.

The memory of the night you first danced warms against your skin. You remembered it well. It was the night that you almost told him you loved him, the same thing you were considering right now. You couldn't believe that he remembered the song you danced to. You smile at the memory of that night, when Ben punched Howard in the face and it gave you a sickening amount of joy.

“What are you smiling at?” Ben asks you.

“I still can’t believe you hit him.” You shake your head with a laugh.

"He hurt you. And I didn't like that he made me stop dancing with my girl."

You sigh before you can stop yourself the phrase immediately making the laughter dissipate and making the warm feeling at his touch fade. Tonight Ben was again making you think that he wanted to be more, and worst of all it was making it harder to leave. Because what if this was him trying to tell you the only way he knew how? What if this was him finally admitting that he loved you and you just left?

"What?” He frowns down at you.

“I don’t know why you keep calling me that.”

"What?"

"Your 'girl'." You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the frustration from making you say more.

 “You don't think you are?"

“What do you think it means? To me it means being in a relationship with someone. We have been friends for over fifty years and you have never once said that you wanted to be more-"

"I did try to propose.” Ben jokes, not understanding that you’re upset.

"Really? That was your proposal?" You scoff rolling your eyes. "A joke while you were sitting on my shitty couch drunk off your ass while trying to apologize for almost killing Noir and telling me that you hate when I get in your way?  Forgive me for imagining some big gesture and for not swooning."

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Oh please-“

“I’m fucking serious.” He shrugs.

“What?” You look him in the eye to look for the teasing glint, but it's not there, Ben looks serious.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” Ben’s eyes lock with yours. “I also didn’t apologize for almost killing him. And I do hate when you get in my way." 

"Yes, I figured that given how angry you looked." You roll your eyes, glancing to look at the couples around you again, but this time the happiness you felt for them is gone. The jealousy is back coupled with the frustration of Ben acting like Ben and then pulling a complete 180 the next day and making you question everything. Because you wanted to exist in the moments that he was still Ben and you didn’t want to leave him, but you did want to leave Soldier Boy. The problem was right now all you saw was Ben and you hated that you couldn’t enjoy it because you knew it would end. Someone would piss him off or he’d get drunk or high or go down the rabbit hole with some other woman and Ben would be gone.

You didn’t understand how he could go from hot to cold so quickly.

“But I didn’t lie when I said I’d never hurt you.” Ben's voice rumbles up through where his chest is pressed against yours.

You want to say that you believe him, but after the past forty years you weren’t sure anymore. And that thought hurt more than anything else. You didn’t know your best friend anymore, and it scared you.

Your eyes are leveled on Ben’s chest, by now he’s stopped swaying you to the music. You know what will happen when you look up into his eyes, he'll make a joke or say something like the last forty years never happened and you'll crumble like always. You can feel his breath against your face, the warmth of his body transferring through his chest and soaking into yours.

“Y/n, please look at me.” He releases your hand and cups your cheek to tilt you head upwards to him. The one still planted on your back slides down to your waist, tightening around you as you lock eyes with him. “You know that I’d never hurt you. Right?”

Ben's eyes lock on yours, the love and care reflected in the irises makes your body burn. He's never looked at you like that, looked at you like you were the only woman in the world and deep down it makes you want to pull him close and whisper the three little words you've wanted to say for fifty seven years.

You focus on Ben's words to shake it off, it was the same thing he’d said four years ago, but this time the air between you is charged with electricity.

And you can’t take it anymore.

“Why?” You whisper.

It catches him off guard. “What?”

“Why are you different with me? When the cameras stop rolling, when the team goes home, when it’s just the two of us, you’re different." You stop to catch your breath.  "Ben, I’ve known you for fifty seven years. And in the last forty you’ve changed. But not around me, not when it’s just the two of us. You show up at my apartment in the middle of the night, we talk, we laugh about the past, you sleep in my bed, you call me 'your girl'-”

“You’ve known me longer than anyone else-” His hand is still cupping your cheek now, thumb gently brushing against the smooth skin making your throat tight.

“But even before all this, when we were still in Philadelphia. You were always around me, showing up, taking me out to do things in the city. Ben, we both know how you are. I watched you chase after whatever caught your eye and even now-“ You shake your head frustrated. “But you never act that way with me.”

Ben is quiet for a minute, his eyes searching yours, soft green in the fluttering lights above your heads. “Because you’re different y/n. You’ve always been different.”

“But that doesn’t tell me why Ben. We’ve been doing this for so long and I want-“ You sigh frustrated with yourself because you can’t say it, can’t say that you want him. “I mean I’m not sure if I can-“ You were going to say that you weren’t sure you could do this anymore, that you wished he would let you go, wished that you could walk away, and wished that he would stop giving you hope that the two of you could be something more because you couldn’t do it.

But the words are stopped when his lips meet yours.

You inhale sharply in surprise, before your entire body melts against his, deepening the kiss as you drag your hands up into his dark hair, while your mind goes blissfully blank. Ben’s mouth is firm but tender against yours, moving in a slow dance that makes warm tingles trail down your spine. The hand that was on your cheek, joins the other on your waist. His hand tightens on your hip as your song continues to play while the other presses against the small of your back to secure you against him. The solidness of his chest is familiar, molding against your curves in the best way as if he was made for you and you were made for him. You feel his thumb begin to circle slowly against the fabric on your hipbone and suddenly you remember the night he helped you loosen your corset and all you wanted was him. You never thought it would feel like this.

When you finally pull away for air, Ben doesn’t let you go far, he leans his forehead against yours, the look in his eyes is surprisingly vulnerable, as if he thinks you’re going to push him away.

“I-“ He begins, his green eyes are wide almost afraid.

Why?

You raise your hands to gently cup his strong jaw, searching his eyes with a smile to confirm you aren't going anywhere, before pulling him back to you for another kiss that makes your toes curl in the tight shoes you forced them into an hour ago. Ben sighs into your mouth, a soft sound that surprises you. You had seen him kiss other people before. Ben was anything but gentle, but now you believed that he reserved that gentleness just for you and it made you feel like you were going to melt into a puddle.

When you pull back again, Ben’s forehead is still against yours, his eyes bright and unmoving from your face. For a moment neither of you speaks, too afraid to break the silence.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours Sweetheart?” Ben asks, the deep rumble of his voice working up through where your chest is pressed against his. His expression is gentle, and he brings up one of the hands that was on your waist to trace the pillow of your lips with his thumb.

And before you lose your nerve your smile curves into a smirk.  “Took you long enough Benjamin.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Make me.” You mutter against his thumb.

And then he’s kissing you again, moving his lips in tandem with yours while your heart flutters and dances. And you never want it to end, because he's kissing you like he never wants to let you go and you're kissing him like you don't want him to.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters against your lips with a smile, his deep eyes catching yours. "Don't be jealous of Missy Callahan. She's nothing compared to you, never has been, never will be."

Your heart warms, cheeks blushing with his words, because even after all these years, Ben still knew exactly what to say. You hold his face reverently, admiring the familiar dips and curves, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "Don't be jealous of Howard. He meant nothing to me. No one means as much to me as you do Ben."  You whisper back before you kiss him and allow yourself to fall again, hoping that this time he’ll catch you.

*************************************

“Did you want something to drink?” You ask Ben, gesturing with your free hand towards the kitchen.

Standing in your apartment feels different post kiss. It feels like this all represents something bigger now. The apartment, him coming upstairs even though he has spent most of the nights here since you bought it and of course the way he’s looking at you, how he’s been unable to stop looking at you since he kissed you.

“Are you going to get it for me?” Ben is still holding your hand, had held it the entire car ride, only releasing it when he got out to open the door for you and then took it again as you walked up to your apartment. His thumb is moving across the back in a soothing motion that makes you want to curl up in the warmth that trails behind like a cat in the sun.

“I’m sure you remember where it is”

“Mhmm.” Ben is eyeing you again, the green in his eyes darkening in a way that makes your throat tight.

You’re not sure who moves first, all you know is that someone closes the distance between you, and you lose yourself in him. Your curves melt against the hard muscles of Ben’s chest and arms as he pulls you into him, his hands  gripping your waist so tight that you know there might be bruises but you don’t care.

Your hands trail up his muscular chest to tangle in his hair, pulling at the darkened strands and forcing his mouth harder against yours.

He tastes like whiskey and smoke, night and day, and all those bittersweet moments you’ve shared over the years you’ve known him. There is no semblance of Soldier Boy left behind, it’s just Ben and you and it's everything you wanted for so long. The kiss is charged with so much emotion and tension you feel something inside you snap and warmth floods your body in its wake. Ben moans into your mouth, his hands coming down to sweep low over your curves and ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt before.

There had been others try to do exactly this. Other heroes you politely declined because you didn’t feel anything for them. You remember the kisses with Howard, passionless, boring, but being here with Ben was like nothing you’d ever imagined. The subtle scratch of his scruff against your cheeks makes you lose all feeling in your legs, his strong embrace makes goosebumps burn against your skin, and the sounds he’s making against your lips makes your heart seize in your chest.

He backs you up and you both fall on the couch in a tangle of limbs, his body caging you beneath him while his fingertips boldly trail against your body, finding places that make you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his smirk against your lips and you’ve never felt more sexy in your life. Ben’s moans against every piece of skin he can get his lips against make you blush crimson and echo his cries with soft sounds that make him grip you tighter. His hands are everywhere, coaxing along your curves, discovering places that you didn’t know could be sensitive and that make you gasp and arch against him as he continues to kiss you.

Everything about this feels right, feels perfect, as if you were both made for this exact moment. The subtle drag of his hands against you, the firm assertive way he holds you beneath him, how your body responds to his touch, and the way your heart continues to swell in your chest, frantically beating as if it wishes to break free. You forget about all the other women he's ever been with, all the others he's probably held close, nothing else exists at this moment, nothing else exists except him and you here on this couch. His lips ghost to your neck as he sucks a mark into the column of your throat and you realize he's saying your name over and over the way that no one ever has.

There’s a loud ripping noise and you understand that Ben ripped off the bottom half of your dress, the tattered remains just barely brushing against your thighs. But you can’t be angry with him for that, not when everything he’s doing feels perfect.

Ben’s hands slowly begin to push up the bottom of your now ruined dress and you come back down from your high, feeling the gentle press of his fingers against your thigh as they begin to move upwards.

“Ben-" You breathe.

You hate how breathy your voice sounds, but the new sensations running through your body are almost too overwhelming for you to gain control of. If you weren't both as indestructible as you were you would be afraid of the possibility of killing Ben.

He moans into your neck, working his hand up further to a place that makes your grip his shoulders tight and you leave bruises of your own, because you’re the only person strong enough to bruise him, to leave marks against his almost invulnerable skin. And it makes a shudder go down his spine.

"Ben wait-"

He stops, looking down at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated in a way that almost sends you back into a frenzy with him. "What's wrong?" He is also out of breath, chest rising and falling fast. You can hear his heart beat thundering in his chest, beating in tandem with yours.

“Before we do this I just want to tell you that I’ve never-" You bite your lip nervously. "I've never done this before.”

“This?” He looks confused, withdrawing his hand from under your ruined dress.

“Well- you know." You gesture between the two of you. "This.”

"You've never had sex with anyone before?"

"No." You flush bright red wondering if that's a deal breaker for him. If he wanted someone more experienced. "I’m sorry."

He sits there for a minute, staring down at you. "Why are you apologizing?” Ben’s hand brushes your hair away from your face in a gentle gesture, so different than the heavy caresses of his hands against your curves he did earlier.

“I don’t know.” You whisper embarrassed. “I just- everyone else has and I’m pretty sure you have with millions of people.”

“Well not millions.”

“But still.” You suddenly think that this was a giant mistake, that you should just go to your room in shame. You drop your eyes to his chest embarrassed.

His hands are stroking along your waist, toying with the frayed edges of your dress. “Y/n.” He whispers.

“What?” You mumble.

Ben raises his hand to cup your cheek, turning your gaze back on him. The way he’s looking at you causes a hot jolt of energy to race down your spine and makes you wish that you were more confident or knew what you were doing.

 He’d been with hundreds of women all kinds of women and what had I been doing all these years? Nothing and no one. I’m not really sure if I understood the mechanics OF sex- but oh how I wished. My head was just getting in the way of everything else as usual.

“I will admit that I have slept with a lot of women.” Ben sighs. “But it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-“

“I want to.”

 “Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m the best person for this-“ And for a moment you think he looks almost worried.

Why would he think that?

“I’m sure. I want it to be you. I’ve always wanted it to be you.” You breathe, running your hands through his hair, your cheeks flushing bright red with your confession, afraid that you’re saying too much, giving too much away as to how much he means to you.

“Really?” Ben smiles in a way that makes your breath catch.

You nod.

“I can’t promise it won’t hurt.” The darkness in his eyes shifts to something else and for a moment it’s difficult for you to form a sentence. He leans his forehead against yours, searching your eyes.  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben whispers it like a secret.

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you Ben.” You whisper, knotting you hands in his hair.

“You do?”

You nod your head. “And I’m pretty sure that I’m just as capable of hurting you-“

“Maybe.” The look in his eyes is back, blazing through his green irises in a way that makes your throat swell closed. He bends over to whisper against the curve of your ear. “Then again, I kinda like that Sweetheart.” His lips brush just behind your right ear, making a shiver go down your spine. Ben smiles at your reaction before he dips down to kiss you, but it’s different, the kiss is soft, trusting, and not the previous manic haze of desire it was previously. “ I know you think it’s a big deal, but I like that I’m your first. Because it means that no other man has touched you, made you feel any of the things that I’m going to do to you, and that I’ll never have to share you with anyone else.” His grip on your waist tightens possessively. “That you’ll be completely and utterly mine and no one else can do a damn thing.”

You inhale and try not to faint from the darkened look in his eyes. “Well when you put it that way-“

“Come on.” Ben stands from the couch.

Before you can get up to follow he picks you up like you weigh nothing causing you to automatically wrap your thighs around his waist as he kisses you feverishly again, wiping your mind of anything and everything but him.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, entangling your hands at the nape of his neck to secure yourself.

“I’m not going to let your first time be on some shitty couch.” He mutters against your lips while adjusting his grip under your legs

And with that he takes you down the hall and kicks your bedroom door closed behind you.

********************************************

A/N: Well it finally happened. Unfortunately this is also when all hell breaks loose…

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan

[highonakuweeds]

Random Hazbin Men Headcanons

I couldn't help myself.

ALASTOR

He does have a tail, yes; that’s the reason why his coat is super flared out. It’s a wonder people haven’t seen it yet.

Well, it’s either the fact no one has seen it or he just brutally murders those who have already seen it

It doesn’t wag when he’s happy, though; he’s not a dog. Or rather, he can control it when he’s happy since it’s always slow. When he’s panicking or stressed, however, that’s a different story

It is sensitive. Please do not pull on it because it’s still connected to his spine and that shit hurts. Curling your finger along its fur seems to be okay, though

Ears are more sensitive than his tail. Because of their fluffy nature, just grazing a fingertip near the inside of his ears make them twitch.

Yes, it tickles.

He would never admit the fact that scratching the base of them feels more relieving than it should.

Actually had curly/wavy-ish hair when he was alive, and was devastated when he realized Hell permanently straightened his hair. He was grateful his hair maintained its volume, though

VOX

Most probably knows how to cook and clean and do all of that housework bullshit because of Vel and Val. They would never shut up about the fact that he couldn’t do that before

Is genuinely really good at baking. One of his guilty pleasures

Would spoil the people he feels close to (i.e., Vel, Val, and when they were still in contact, Alastor)

Knows deep down that he will never actually beat Alastor, but forces himself to believe otherwise because why would he give the stupid deer demon that satisfaction???

Despite the fact the man is literally all about modern technology bs, he barely knows what goes on in the less political/economic side of media. He only knows some things because of Vel and Val

Whether it be on purpose or not, like half of his mannerisms stem from looking up at Alastor before.

Genuinely loves electric swing and jazz just like Al (it was a coincidence), but since people associate those two genres with the Radio demon, he pretends to hate it and adore dubstep

He loves dubstep, too; he just hated the fact he had to like it because he didn’t want to be associated with Al (even if he made a whole song about him)

Would rather wear quiet luxury than extravagant clothing but he loves seeing people’s faces when they gawk at the amount of expensive shit he has

SIR PENTIOUS

Filthy rich. Unironically. HE BOUGHT A WHOLE CRATE FULL OF CARMILLA’S WEAPONS; ISN’T THAT SHIT EXPENSIVE???

One of his hobbies is doodling, and is actually really good at it

When he was alive, he probably had the most luscious, silk, gorgeous hair you’d ever seen. But then he probably had to cut it all off

Crawled on the ground for the first couple of months since his drop into Hell bc he couldn’t figure out his tail

He could make the most intimidating and dangerous machine in just a couple minutes but would struggle with a rubix cube. 

VAL

Drawing, I’m pretty sure, is a canon hobby of his so I just imagine him studying Vox’s face and body to understand his weird ass proportions

You already know what his horny ass was thinking when he tried studying Vox’s lower body

Almost fried his brain trying to understand Vox’s TV screen

Usually his anatomy is incorrect with his shitty eyesight

Loves bold luxury

[slaymybreathaway]

WASTELAND, BABY! [prologue]

Masterlist

Chapter List

[Word Count: 762]

July 30th 1994 ○ Neville's Bedroom

___________________________________

It was 11pm when Neville Longbottom heard a tapping sound on his bedroom window.

He was sitting ontop of his patchwork bed covers, in his pyjamas, reading a muggle book that he had found in an old bookshop near his house earlier that day.

At first he took no notice of the noise, it was often that branches hit against his window whenever the wind blew a certain way. However, when these 'branches' started making a squawking noise, he turned his attention away from the book in his hands.

The boy walked over to his window, where he saw a white barn owl sitting on the outside windowsill. The bird looked up at him, an ivory envelope held in it's beak. Neville opened his window slowly, trying his best not to scare the owl away.

"Thanks mate," he spoke, taking the envelope from the bird and watched as it flew away into the dark summer night.

He shut his window before turning the envelope over in his hands. It was thick and felt like it had something  rectangular inside of it.

The address on the front was written in a neat-but-slanted way, which he recognised almost immediately to be the handwriting of Y/n Finnigan. Neville smiled, letting the excitement show on his face.

Y/n and Neville had known each other since their first year at Hogwarts. She was his friend, Seamus's twin sister so naturally, he was friends with her also.

The odd thing was, that over the summer months, Neville found himself feeling a strange buzz of happiness whenever she sent him a letter. It even got to the point where every letter that wasn't from her seemed unimportant.

He couldn't quite explain what he felt or why he felt it. So instead, he just put it down to the lonely-ness of Summer.

The front and the back of the envelope was covered with small doodles of stars and balloons. The smile on Neville's face, somehow, grew wider at the thought of her taking the time to draw them on, individually.

The boy opened the envelope just above the green wax seal on the back and out fell both a letter and a casette tape. He picked up the letter and started to read:

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

Dear Nev,

Happy Birthday!!! I was going to give you your present on the train to school but I just couldn't wait. I hope you like the mixtape (it's for the walkman, by the way)

See you soon,

Y/n

(PS. Tell your granny that I was asking for her)

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

After reading it a few times, Neville took the box out from under his bed that contained all of the letters she had sent over the past two months and placed the new one on top. He slid the box far enough under his bed that it couldn't be seen by anyone that walked into his room.

The boy rifled through the drawer in his bedside locker until he found what he was looking for, his walkman. When he bought the muggle device, he didn't realise that the music wasn't included so he couldn't use it... until now.

When he looked at the tape closely, he could see that it was labeled on either side with ☆Neville's Mixtape☆ written in red marker. He opened the walkman and carfully placed the tape in before putting the headphones on and pressing the "play" button.

The boy turned off the light and lay in his bed, pulling the covers up to his shoulders as he heard the acoustic guitar play softly through the opening bars of the first song on the tape.

He couldn't help but imagine where Y/n was the first time she heard this song. Did it come on in the radio in her Dad's car? Or did she find the album that this song belonged to in a dusty old casette shop and waited until later that day to listen to it, when she was lying in bed. Just like he was doing right now. He smiled at the thought

A male voice sang softly the lyric:

"All the fear and the fire of the end of the world.

Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl,"

Neville swore that he would remember those words forever beacause it was in that moment that he finally realised what that buzz of happiness was.

The was falling in love with her...

And man, did he feel the fear and the fire of the end of the world.

_____________________

[mashasxart]

had one of those days where the computers and phone were down All Day so i doodled some things while i was at my desk poses

the top one is basically that 'why does father call you babygirl' meme but i couldn't think of how to reword it so it fit the two of them. natori just 'you'll understand when you're older' and lune retorting with 'i'm literally an adult rn' so natori panics and says 'then you'll understand when you're dead' and Flees

the second was me trying to play around with hospitality!AU but mostly just turned into me drawing natori in something fluffy and warm-looking bc i was cold. i cut out the face tho. it was Bad

aaand then there is my favorite crack ship bc i had Their Song stuck in my head

natori: you can't be that much older than me natori: look at you muta: mind your own business

[cauldron-of-oddities]

Seven Gifts

There were things Jinx would not share with Silco. Little rituals, just for her. Powder may be gone, but her memories remained. And sometimes they would get so loud she'd need to listen, to give in, lest she drown in them.

To quiet the unrelenting noise in her mind (or was that to soothe her sore heart?), she gave into the urge to remember, to keep something close of those she'd cared for, still cared for.

Powder had kept a treasure box. It was filled with little trinkets that she'd been given. Most came from Vi and Ekko.

The newly named Jinx had wanted to throw all the soft sentimentality away, only when she tried, her throat had constricted, and her eyes had stung. First, just a single tear fell, then a second, and then the floodgates broke. Almost like the box had made a tether to her heart, she could not let it go. Silently, to herself in the shadows, she admitted in a fragile whisper “I don't want to let you go.”

Sot, she'd kept the box. For all the hurt, for all weakness, it was hers, and it was bound to the two people who she still loved despite everything. With no one to add it, she hid the box away under her bed, or rather between the mess of pillows and blankets piled high on her mattress.

It was with this box that her little ritual began. She'd received crates full of old mechanical devices for her to tinker with as she pleased. Amongst the mundan machines and old guns, something glinted just a little different. A watch casing and all sorts of spare bits. Her first thought Ekko would have loved to have those, she scoffed, she'd use the pieces herself.

She didn't use them, or rather, she did. By the end of the day, there was a working watch, an intricate thing that kept the time with precision and followed the position of the moon. An owl was etched on the lid. This was for Ekko, no other. He'd be thrilled when he saw it! The excitement of seeing his reaction rose, and then her shoulders slumped. There would be no gift giving.

In the nest that passed for a bed, she sat folded in on herself. One arm tightly wrapped around her knees, the other gingerly held the watch. What was she to do with a gift she couldn't give? A gift she wanted to give.

She had Silco, she needed no other, she told herself. Her throat felt tight. He'd tell her to let go. The more she repeated it, the more it ate at her.

She remembers that this week was Ekko's birthday, and she couldn't go see him. As if to offer relief, she saw the box peak out between the pillows. She could put it with treasures, she thought, a safe place for memories.

It felt cold to just chuck it in there, so she sang a birthday song, like it was a present that would be properly given. She hugged it once close and placed it in the box and hid it all away. The wet spot on her pillow would be dry by morning. No evidence of her tears would remain. Just this once would be alright.

Only the next year came, and then next and the next, and like clockwork, she'd find a gift. Her heart would constrict, and she'd have to get it. And suddenly she had six.

The watch she put together herself.

An expansive toolkit stolen from an airheaded pilty professor, Ekko would agree that the stuffy man wouldn't need it anyway.

A mostly empty sketchbook (she'd doodled on it because it was too plain, and the paper was so nice).

Bullet cases she took the edge off and engraved with that hourglass they'd drawn first long ago. She'd seen him briefly, and his hair had been a nice change. She couldn't go give a compliment, so this would do.

A book with pretty pictures of all the trees, she'd seen him flying about with a leafy twig behind his ear.

Two tiger eyes gems because they reminded her of his eyes. Were those then for him or her? It didn't matter. It meant 'I'm still thinking of you'.

She'd take out her box, sing a song, mark it just for him, her tears would come and then she put it all away. So it had gone for six years.

She hasn't felt right in days, and she's all alone. Her shoulder is still sore. Never mind the tightness in her chest. She wants something familiar, something safe. There's not much left of that. Her nest may be the closest thing. She curled up in the little comfort ot offerd. Like that day seven years ago, the box peaked out from between the pillows, and it's all too much as she realises she has nothing to offer. Her voice cracking “I don't have a present for you.” Curling around her treasure chest of memories, as another sweet memory returned to her. Ekko was meant to add to her collection until there were ten, then'd she'd share.

Here she was three from him and six for him. Would he have seven for her? Her seventh gift are her whispered words “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I remember. "You can look."

He remembers Powder having a little treasure box, one where she'd put her favourite things. He'd once snuck a peak, and to his delight, saw there were things that he had gifted her in the box. A super shiny cog, a pretty stone, a hair clip with a blue flower. She slammed the lid shut when she noticed him leaning over her shoulder. Her cheeks positively burning.

“Can I see?" He asks. She shakes her head no, clearly embarrassed.

"There’s nothing embarrassing in there. It all looked like real treasure!” His enthusiasm at getting to know what she kept dear spurring him on.

“It's silly.” She says shyly.

“Why?” Why would keeping nice things be silly? He thought it was a good idea. “Can I see?” he goes on to ask. She fiddles with the lid, biting her lip. And then “When there are ten things from you in the box, you can look.”

It was a fond memory, and with the steadfast certainty of youth, he'd decided he'd get to look in her precious box of treasures. Yeah, sure, there'd be things in there he would give, but that would mean he was her treasure too.

Shortly after, it all went to hell.

Part of him knew it would likely be a fruitless effort, but it was a little bit of hope to hold on to. He fixated on the box, a promis unfulfilled. Maybe if it was, he'd see her again.

There had been three things he had given her in the box. If he gathered seven more, maybe, just maybe, he would have his wish. In the meantime, it was a connection. No matter how far she went, this he could hold on to.

His parents didn't quite know what would help him. What did you do, other than offer comfort, your arms, your love, in the face of such loss? His mother gave him a little plush owl. “To guard you and comfort you when we're away.” It was made of scraps, the fabric already worn soft, and it carried the safety of his parents. He couldn't help but think Powder would also have loved such a soft guardian. He decided this would be the first gift. He would share his little guardian.

He made an actual box for Powders gifts soon after. Maybe he was too old for this, but it made him feel better, so he did it anyway. “You can keep her treasure box safe.” He said to the little owl, his voice thick with tears “And maybe her too. I think I'd like to share you.” That left six gifts to find.

He had always painted and drawn for fun now he also painted as a way to remember, to deal with his grief. Powder had loved to doodle on everything, including him, so a set of crayons was next.

He found a small broken music box, and when he fixed it Powder's, Vi's and Vanders's favourite tune would play. He caught himself humming it more often than once.

When he caught a glimpse of her again her hair was split in two and so much loner. He made cuffs from bolts and cogs in different metals. She liked variation, and he thought they'd be pretty in her hair.

He made her a hoverboard because he thought she'd like to fly. She always wanted to join in, always wanted to feel free, and well, there was nothing quite so freeing as littraly getting of the ground. And if he was entirely hosest, he wanted to fly with her. The board was kept beside the box being too big.

She was lethal and sharp and more beautiful as they got older. She also grew further and further away from him, elusive as a phantom. The glint of the mobile caught his eye blue and pink, just like her. There was something ethereal about it. How pretty would it be reflected in her eyes, or would she be beautiful when charmed by their sparkle?

He kept his treasure trove high on a shelf, hidden in plain sight, the little owl it's ever faithful guard. He placed the gift in it and counted down how many there were left. “Just one left to go. Do I get to see you soon?”

He had been hurt from the fight on the bridge, and yet everything buzzed with life, with grief, her fate was unknown. She was gone from him, and he needed an outlet. An empty sketchpad was found, and he lost himself to the scratch of pencil on paper. Powder, Jinx, sweet, fierce, terrifying, alluring, broken, whole, a wish, he drew it all. “Let me see you.”

With shaky hands, he lifted little owl one last time to add the sketchbook full of her (and his wishes.)

“Seven gifts, that makes ten, you said I could look.”

Seven gifts hidden in a box

kept out of sight, forever kept in the heart.

Seven gifts in a box

To hold close, when I couldn't keep you in my arms

One day I'd to like give them all to you

All these things that remind me of you.

To see you smile, to see you whole

Just me and you together, forever.

@typewriteringalaxy I did end up writing a drabble

[zilabee]

Alf Bicknell, Beatles Chauffeur (and friend), 1964 to 1966:

“It's weird to explain. Even after I left them in 1966 and went back to working with captains of industry and on a cruise, I could never get those songs - all their tracks - out of my system. They'd become a part of me. To be there was the job of a lifetime.”

“It was exhausting. I remember waking some mornings and being filled with trepidation. Filled with the feeling that I couldn't do it, that I couldn't go on at this pace.”

“I ended up with George and this guy, who turned out to be an Italian prince. He offered to show us around Rome. So, together with this prince, his beautiful girlfriend, and George, I had one of the most wonderful of my times with the Beatles. He took us at dawn on this whirlwind tour of Rome. We ended up on some of the Seven Hills of Rome. We were in St Peters Square and all these wonderful places I'd only seen on picture postcards.”

All four had been fond of doodling in an effort to while away the boredom of touring. On this leg of the tour [in Japan] Alf noticed the sketches began to take on a darker tone. Perhaps a legacy of the touring treadmill, although the Beatles discovery of hallucinogenic substances may have coloured their doodles.

“I'm often asked what my favourite tracks are. I don't really know. I guess the two which I think are most poignant are Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields Forever. They make me really sad - I don't know why.”

After the Beatles visit with Elvis, he sent his own roadies round in a giant Cadillac limousine to take the Beatles' road crew out on the town:

“We were wined and dined and went round all these wonderful Hollywood clubs. One place was closing for the night but Elvis's people Sonny and Marty had them open up just for us. Vintage champagne and platters of delicious food duly arrived. Then the singer who had been performing that night came back on and did another set, singing just for the likes of yours truly. I've always thought what a wonderful gesture of Elvis to have remembered us, the humble roadies, this way.”

Re the airport in the Philippines:

“George Martin, in particular, has been documented as saying 'Stupidly Alf Bicknell raised his fists.' I always thought that was pretty rich coming from a guy hundreds of miles away, safely tucked away in a recording studio. Whereas here I was, surrounded by this baying mob, desperate to tear the Beatles to pieces. It was my job to protect them. And it was obvious that reasoned arguing wasn't the answer. You don't stand there and wait till one of the band is hit. It was a case of 'it's the first blow that counts'. ”

Alf decided to leave in 1966, at Candlestick Park when they announced they wouldn't be touring any more. He doesn't go into a lot of detail about why, he just says:

“It had been two years. A magical time, with me privy to one of the most exciting times in the last century. I'd been privileged to be along for the ride. But like the band, the repetition had sort of got to me.”

Ticket to Ride, by Alasdair Ferguson and Alf Bicknell

I'm going to stop now before I type out the entire book. But there are other nice bits in it still. At one point or another he drove each of them back to Liverpool and stayed with their families. He really likes Jim McCartney: "There was a great spiritual feeling about him." He seems to genuinely like everyone. There's a bit where he drives George and Pattie to the airport after their wedding, speeding to escape the press, but when he gets pulled over the officer just pretends to give him a ticket and then holds up the reporters for him. There are the standard bits where John is a bit of a dick, and other bits where he's soft and kind. There's a bit where Alf goes to a bullfight with Brian because no one else will. A bit where he talks about Paul putting on a terrible disguise and going out to look for grandfather clocks, and everyone in the shops pretending not to know who he is. There's a bit where he runs into George in the mid-seventies and they have a hug on the pavement.

(If you're wondering why the Beatles' chauffeur called his book Ticket To Ride, yes, I was also wondering. But he does have another book called 'Baby You Can Drive My Car', so that is why. From what I can work out it's a better version of this one - because honestly outside the quotes from Alf, which I'm assuming are true, this book is badly written to the extreme. It kind of tries to dramatise everything, like 'he sighed dramatically' etc, and is full of small careless mistakes like using passed where they mean past, not once but twice. Unfortunately the other book costs a little fortune, so this one is good enough for now.)

[kamiimiya]

TEEHEE 1, 3, 5, and 7 with kokonoi hajime >:D

THANK YOU LOVEBUG I APPRECIATE YOU SOSOSOSO MUCH ♡

ask game here

♡ If you have one, what's your ship name?

kokomiya !! just a silly basic little shipname cuz those are the ones i'm used to in most fandoms and i'm simply not creative enough to think of something unique and funny.

i honestly like the tag misconceptions more than i do the ship name, because i Thought about that for a little while even though its kinda basic so it doesn't even really seem like i did much thinking. but for a long time we didn't like each other, he thought i was wayyy too nice and just going to be used by everyone around me ( deadass projecting but go off koko dearest ) and i couldn't understand why he has such a grudge against me. we understand each other a little bit too well in some regards, despite each of us being on the opposite ends of The Horrors. sometimes he mentions that i would understand inupi more than i understand him, and he just doesn't understand why i'd choose someone like him when it's so obvious that he had the capability to hurt others. he's so blinded by his lack of self worth and inability to truly understand other people's depths that there's just a lot of miscommunication between the two of us for a really long time.

♡ What song would you duet for some chaotic late night karaoke?

umbrella by rihanna. is it because of that one scene with inupi where koko was hiding behind the umbrella and trying his best to act confident even when he was losing it a little bit ? yeah. maybe. who cares. it's also a BITCHING song and you can't look me in the eyes and tell me he doesn't know it by heart. and to be very clear, i'm not saying he's gonna be jay z and i'm rihanna. we alternate lines like how god intended. i will step out of the spotlight this one time and let him have the last little bit with the last few lines because i feel like he needs them a little bit. maybe it would do his psyche some good who knows.

in the tune of rihanna, also s&m is a very good choice. my minds eye can see him swaying his hips and doing a little dance and dammit he's feeling himself. gonna do that silly debby ryan thing where he pushes his hair behind his ears trying to be hot but its kokonoi hajime so it just works idk how to explain it. first verse is his and he'll sing it alone, i'll just sing the background vocals. we alternate the lines of the chorus & sing the post chorus ' come on, come on, come on ' part together at the same time. second verse is mine. if you see him blushing at the mention of whips and chains no for the love of god you do not.

♡ If you were dogs, what breeds would you be?

so he's definitely going to be something like a doodle or a golden doodle. something that looks pretty but actually may not be the best pets. i lived in a house with golden doodles and let me tell you they were wild and rowdy if not trained right and also practically impossible to kennel train at any point in time, and maybe it was just the dogs that the person had but they had the worst separation anxiety i've ever seen in dogs, and that's pretty much just koko. if you look at them from a distance you think that they're pretty and fancy looking and then you spend more than a minute in the same room with them and you realize that they're actually a handful, and i love koko for that.

for myself, i don't really have an in depth answer. i like pomeranians and also i too have a bark wayyy bigger than my entire bodyweight. they're like 3 apples tall and mostly fur, and have one of those super annoying barks that just simply don't shut up ever, and i'd like to think that's me going on and on and on about stuff that no one objectively really cares about. they're also extroverted but can get aggressive with dogs much bigger than their own size. and yeah that honestly just checks out with me i will body check a dog 4x my size because i don't like the way that it didn't look at me.

♡ Describe how your f/o smells, be absurdly specific.

oh boy he's expensive but also depressed. you can tell he's having one of those days where he just can't be half assed with anything because the cologne he wears will be sprayed so much that you can't smell anything else. he chooses savage from dior because it's one of those colognes that covers up everything else with just a little bit sprayed, but he'll still overspray it to the point it almost chokes you with the scent of it. if he's not wearing any cologne ( rare, but not impossible. i just have to catch him at the right time ) he probably smells like a mix between his lotion he wears and his body wash / exfoliant. he shops at bath and body works for lotions because he likes the deals and also has a thing for their candles.

if he's out doing ' business ' i think honestly he sweats wayyy more than he likes to let on especially since most uniforms are a jacket of some kind and they're actively fighting most of the time, so he has to use a pretty strong deodorant to hide it. definitely carries deodorant with him and he's so shameless about it. he definitely hops into the shower the moment he's home though.

sometimes, though, he smells like blood and a housefire, with the smell of smoke so thoroughly coated in his hair and blood underneath his fingernails, and i can't mention it because it's really not the important part going on right now. sometimes i just gotta pull him into the shower and wash his hair for him really well and fix dinner for him without mentioning it. tears or worried words from either one of us may break the fragile thread hanging on and it's just not worth it. i know he's okay, he knows that he's safe. it's,,, important that the nights we're together stay as normal for him as possible, especially on nights like those.

and anyways so i - ( gets shot )

[cassidyxcooke]

[nonbinary, she/they] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CASSIDY COOKE]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [MAYA HAWKE]. You must be the [TWENTY-THREE] year old [STUDENT, MUSEUM TOUR GUIDE]. Word is you’re [FUN-LOVING] but can also be a bit [RESTLESS] and your favorite song is [ QUANTUM PHYSICS BY RUBY WATERS]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [AURORA BAY TOWERS]. I’m sure you’ll love it! @aurorabayaesthetic

tw: mentions of homophobia and transphobia.

Name: cassidy elise cooke Gender: non-binary Pronouns: she/they Age: twenty-three Birthdate: nov 29th ( sagittarius sun. cancer moon. scorpio rising ) Sexual Orientation: pansexual Romantic Orientation: panromantic Profession: student (graphic design major). museum tour guide Positive Traits: adventurous. determined. empathetic. optimistic Negative Traits: blunt. secretive. dramatic. moody.

Details:

Cassidy was born and raised in Aurora Bay by their father Kieran Cooke and their paternal grandparents, Declan and Bridget Cooke. Their mother was never in the picture.

They have three older brothers, all with a pretty solid age gap between. The closet being 8 years older.

Cass is convinced their only half siblings and that their father got someone pregnant who was already married or couldn't afford a kid.

No one has ever given them a straight answer, which only fueled Cassidy's obsession with mysteries. They love to solve even the smallest of them, likely since their unsure if they'll ever figure out the one they want most.

They read a lot as a kid and was always writing or drawing. They kept a journal full of all their theories, stories and just general gossip. Something small they could carry with them when they were out exploring and playing.

They were a very active kid, often found in a tree or some high place, sprawled out and writing. Or with their father and grandfather, taking apart cars or building.

It was obvious at a young age, Cassidy wasn't a girlie girl. It didn't bother their grandparent as much as it did Kieran. Bridget tried to encourage more "feminine" things, but the only things Cass was interested in learning from them was how to garden and cook. And that became enough.

Eventually everyone made peace with it. Was it a long road? Sure. They fought with their father constantly. Eventually their name was met with a long sigh or a grumble when they got into fights, stuck their nose where it didn't belong or didn't conform to the things he felt she should be doing or be interested it. It was fine. Begrudgingly so, but fine all the same. It was the same when they came out in middle school and by the time they hit high school, it was something just accepted about them. Not celebrated, but tolerated and yeah, that was enough for everyone. For a while anyway.

Cassidy wasn't the best student. They talked too much, spent too much time doodling or writing or after joining up with the school paper, uncovering drama. They considered themselves a bit of a crusader for the little guy/girl/person. Though their tactics have never been particularly tactful and a bit...exaggerated. You hated them or loved them and Cass was ok with it being more of the former than the latter.

Most would think journalism was the obvious choice by the time they graduated. But Cass decided to take a different route, leaning more into their art and design skills. Their reason? Actually pursuing it would make it more work than fun. Plus they wanted to take some time between, a gap year or two, to explore. Do their own thing.

They bounced around, doing freelance design for money and other odd jobs for two years. And in those years discovered more about themselves and others, including the fact they were more than just gay, but trans/non-binary. It was freeing to finally have the language to describe what they felt and the time and space to explore it outside of the thinly layered tolerance at home.

A home they returned to due to a discounted tuition grant once their older sibling, a professor, hit the qualifications. They decided to officially pursue a degree in design. They haven't come out as non-binary to their family, or rather their father/grandparents. They know it's not something they'd understand and really don't want the fight even though it eats at them.

Living in Aurora Bay Towers makes it easier to live their life without the strain of it all though. And really, life back in Aurora Bay has been pretty great for the last three years. Their last year is sure to be just as good, especially after joining the student paper. It was bound to happen eventually, call it a siren's call if you will. But yeah, they still dabble in freelance design, get to hang out/work at the art museum whenever and yeah, life's pretty good.

Connections:

eden o'connell // rival.

Wanted Connections:

can I say everything?

a best friend. artist buddies. unlikely friends. drinking buddies. muses. positive influences. a tutor. a roommate maybe?

annoyances. frienemies. oil & water. bad vibes

flirts. one night stands. fwbs. crushes. ewb. make out buddies. dates. once you have their attention it can be intense but she falls in and out of feelings quickly. wants to find that person though and isn’t afraid of trying on every shoe till one fits.

like this and i’ll come to you for some plotting.

[iamfluffle]

Those 2 specific animatics, Two Birds and Smokey Eyes...

For the longest time I couldn't hear them without *immediately* sobbing bc of your animatics

I love you for that OMG just, gosh especially those two just *stabbing* me in the chest repeatedly like, little moving doodles go brrr and make me feel emotions

TYSM WHAT

this is exactly how i feel. after most of my animatics, i cannot hear a song without thinking of it

emotions being wrecked is like a tuesday morning to me (and look at that its a tuesday morning) lmao

srs im so happy my art can somehow effect someone like this, thank you anon <3333

[rosa-qing]

Themis-Scenarios

Artem Wing

all too well

Angsts

Masterlists

A hand slips across his waists while he prepared their breakfast, without even looking Artem already knows who it is. He gently lifts her hand and place a soft kiss

“Good morning” he look over his shoulder to met her gaze. Neither of them speak and just cherishes this calm morning together.

“Artem” a familiar yet at the same time unrecognizable voice called out his name snapping him off from his daydream.

He look at her realizing she wasn’t the same person on his daydream. The person sitting in front of him is someone whose ready to let him go as she slipped the divorce papers across the table.

“Are you sure about this?” Artem asks again as if her answer will changed.

She faintly smile and nod her head.

“We talked about this"

He tried to reach out for her hand, but she pulled away before he could even do so. Leaving him hanging.

"I know.. but is it just that easy for you to forget the 7 years we've been together" Artem clench his fists until his knuckles turned white as tries to calm his surging emotion.

She didn't answer, but her silence is enough for him know the answer. And for a moment he couldn't breath.

"That 7 years with you will always be the best years of my life. It's just that I fell out of love with So don't make this hard for the both of us." She quickly stood up

"So dont make this hard for the both of us, I'll give you time to think" she said while he just sat there frozen unable to look as she walked away from his life.

His gaze caught a glimpse of the wedding band on his ring finger. Tears trickle down his cheeks as questions flooded his mind.

Didn't he love her enough

Did he do anything wrong

Why can't he make her stay.

But those questions are all left unanswered.

That night Artem stared at ceiling unable to sleep. He kept tossing and turning but to no avail the missing warmth made him feel restless.

He got out of bed and decided to get some drinks to calm him down. He open the refrigerator to find some drinks but then

a hand slipped on his waist, he looked back and found her smiling.

"Sorry am I taking too long" Artem turned around hugging her back.

She shakes her head and smile

"I just miss you" she reaches out cupping his face standing on her tiptoes as a kiss land on his lips.

Artem chuckled as he enveloped his arms around her. He slowly sway her as if there's a song playing on the background.

She pulled away from him and placed her hand on his shoulder as they slow danced round the kitchen in the refrigerator light.

He looked over and no one was there, with sigh he closed the refrigerator and decided to sleep it off.

----

The papers lying there left untouched, how many days have passed he couldn't barely remember. Rather he wanted to forget that exists.

Sooner or later he needs to sign that but not now he can't even look at it.

Artem did most of his work at home, he did whatever he could do to distract his mind from thinking about it.

Rummaging through his files when a photo fell on the floor. He was about to pick it up however seeing the doodle on the back of the photo stopping him

It was filled with hearts and a doodle of two children walking hand in hand. A soft smile break from his lips as he remember how she fawn on his childhood photo telling how cute he is.

Slowly his smile vanished, realizing he will never see her like that anymore. He place the photo back on his drawer. Shifting his attention back to work again.

---

"You're getting divorced" Celestine couldn't even believe she's saying that words to Artem

"Yes" Artem didn't look at her and focused on the paper at hand.

Celestine pacing back in forth on his office

"What happened, I couldn't understnd. She wasn't the type to leave you."

Artem sighed and look at her

"She fell out of love, i don't know"

"And you just let her leave" She asks

"Celestine I tried to stop her, to make her stay to make her reconsider but there's nothing I can do if she wants to walk away from this marriage. Called this 7 years itch or what one thing I know for sure she doesn't want to be with me anymore" Artem could feel his whole body is shaking.

"If you're worried about work don't worry were both professionals."

Celestine didn't say anything anymore.

---

He gave up..

Eventhough he didn't wanted to. Even if he wanted to fight so hard for their marriage but how can he do that when it was her who let go first.

He scan through the divorced papers, as if those words matter. If everything only points out that she wants their marriage to end.

With shaking hands he signed the papers, and placed it back on the envelope.

He retrieve his phone and messaged her.

I'll drop it off later

He typed but unable to hit send, clearing everything again as he rephrase his words.

Can we give this marriage another chance...

Staring at those words, before deleting everything again. And decided not to tell her he's dropping by.

----

"Mrs.Wing" The receptionist called out to her as she walked on the lobby of the law firm.

"Mr.Wing, dropped this off and asked me to give it to you" She handed her a brown envelope. Even without looking she knows what it contains.

However she felt something hard, she unravel the inside and a ring fell off the ground. It was Artem's wedding band.

"When did he drop this off" She asks looking at the ring in her hand

"A couple minutes ago"

She storms off the office to look for him.

Artem stood there waiting for the traffic lights to turn red so he can cross the road. He did it but it only left him with a hallow heart

"Artem" a voice called out to him

He looked over and found her standing there couple of distance away from him. For a moment they held each other's gaze and the world around them stopped.

Until the lights turned red, Artem turned around and crossed the street. Leaving her behind.

While She watches him leave, before going in the opposite direction.

[noda-fatafata]

Thank you for watching!

An amateur who can't even read music made this music🎵

They say that a mirror sometimes reflects a person's true self.

The man in this music video is worried that his child is not growing up the way he wants.

His son always acts the opposite way he wanted.

And he thinks to himself.

"I was doing it right."

In other words, when he was little, he tried desperately to become like his strict father.

Unable to accept what is happening in front of him, he stares at the mirror and desperately tells himself.

"I am me, my son is my son."

Unfortunately, there are people in the world who do not see their children as separate individuals, but as their own alter egos.

He is a typical example of this, and has been desperately trying to put a no-no on his desires.

But his mother and his wife saw through it.

That's why they always say the opposite to him.

But he couldn't understand.

He couldn't forgive the two people who forgave their sloppy father and forgave their sloppy son.

The mirror he was looking into was not just a mirror, but a one-way mirror.

His image, frowning and alone, was reflected in the mirror of their eyes.

They already knew he was forcing himself.

He had always thought that the opposite world was reflected in the mirror, but in fact he was trying to live in the opposite world.

Looking from the other side of the mirror, the girls teased him, hoping that he would quickly return to the opposite world, that is, his true self.

However, he was still strongly brainwashed by his father, and was unable to recognize the message and treated her harshly.

He realized after she was gone that his mother had already passed away and had been watching over him all this time.

He realized this when he visited his father, whom he had supposedly resented as an old man.

And then the climax.

"You've been watching me all this time, from the opposite world, like a on-way mirror."

Ironically, by the time he realized it, his mother had really passed away in the opposite world (the afterlife).

This song conveys the message of realizing that message as soon as possible, breaking free from the shackles of the past, and the importance of being your true self, and loving the world as it is.

I hope you'll watch until the end♪

Thank you.

【One-Way Mirror】

I must accept,

I am myself,

My son is his own person,

Glaring at my reflection in the mirror.

Textbooks, once scrawled with doodles,

A football, now layered in dust,

Dishes, still set in silence,

I've done all as I must,

Yet why does she smile with such trust?

Ah, yes, that's how it was,

Back when we were young,

You often teased me so,

"Sloppiness is what I love in you," you'd say,

I used to despise that in you.

I must be acknowledged,

I am the father,

The father is me,

Glaring at the reflection I see.

Textbooks brimming with notes,

Football worn from play,

Dishes neatly arrayed,

Father did nothing, yet,

Why was she smiling that way?

Ah, I remember well,

When I was just a boy,

You'd tease me with a smile,

"Your earnestness is what I adore," you'd say,

I hated that about you in those days.

Ah, it's true,

I often mocked you both,

Saying "I envy you",

I despised myself for that.

I loathe the sight in the mirror,

The gaze of you,

Reflecting a world inverted,

It feels like meeting truth's eyes.

You've been watching all along,

From a world reversed,

My true self you've discerned,

Like a one-way mirror observed.

https://youtu.be/w70tBGbsxOI?si=MTOIoxOuDobDynRr

user1015565423761

#OneWayMirror #NewMusic #SongRelease #ReflectOnThis #DeepThoughts #EmotionalJourney #FatherAndSon #GenerationalReflection #HiddenTruths #MusicWithMeaning #MockingbirdInspired #LyricVideo #SoulfulSounds

[candyskiez]

also enabling :3

question ten on the oc asks for whoever you want to talk about most?

hmm this is actually a good question!

I think for a while, jasper wasn't really sentimental. he's a toh oc, darius' mentor (love me a canon character that's a complete blank slate) I just have way too many aus of him to the point he's almost completely Non toh sometimes (for example, jasper alone au which is the timeline I've talked about so far. it is only BARELY toh. pretty comprehensible even if you know the bare minimum Abt it I think) so he almost has his own universe nowm the reason I bring this up is because he mainly becomes more sentimental after meeting Darius, I think. let's talk main timeline for a sec, will go back to jasper alone after. darius broke his mask once mid training, was oh crap did I hurt him, meanwhile jasper was ecstatic because !!! he's improved so much, holy hell he snuck up on him! he DECKED him!!! he was so proud. he kept the broken mask. doodled in it with him all the time. it's kept safely in one of his drawers.

jasper alone timeline which is what y'all know though, hm, okay opportunity. when jasper was an itty bitty kid, he stole him and ivy lutes. this was before his "perfect, rule abiding, never ever step out of line" shit started really sinking in. they learnt how to play music together, it was their favorite thing. even when ivy defected and, in his eyes, betrayed him he just...couldn't bring himself to get rid of them.

that honestly makes me wonder because I've never really thought about this, I don't know how much ivy really took with them when they left. jasper learnt of their betrayal on complete accident. so a painful thing might be,, they lost most of their stuff along with jasper. including their most sentimental things. their lute, all those pictures of the two of them together, the paintings he made for them, the songs they wrote together...all gone. they might've taken some shit to the base before, but probably like. A picture or two. "this is who I'm doing this for." sort of thing. so now I'm imagining ivy up at night at the rebel base, and usually they'd be with jasper. they'd be making up dumb little songs and giggling over the bad rhymes and counting stars.

they don't have anyone else to sing along with now. it's just them. alone.

fuck dude now I'm making myself sad for ivy.

[purplesurveys]

1728

Do you prefer running or yoga? Oof, I have to pass on either. The most I can do for you is walking... now that I enjoy doing lots of.

Do you prefer Zumba or pilates? Neither really, but I'm more likely to do Zumba cos then at least I get a chance to dance to a song I like.

What is your favorite time of day to run, if you’re a runner? I'm not a runner, but it is fun to walk any time between dusk to early evening.

What is your favorite store to buy planners from? I don't really buy planners anymore, but in the time I used them I usually got the ones from Starbucks – the yearly thing they'd do where you collect a sticker for every drink you get and once you get 18 stickers you'd get a planner.

Are you jealous of anyone right now? Nope, I'm good.

Do you like spicy food? I love spicy food and prefer a bit of kick in most things I eat.

Do you prefer Asian or Mexican food? I mean Asian food is extremely broad, but in general I do prefer the cuisines we have here.

What continent would you most like to visit? There's so much of Asia I have yet to visit.

Have you ever played Truth or Dare at 3am? No.

Does your local library have a summer reading program? The few public libraries we have could very well have those, but there's just none that I know of.

Do you take selfies every day? I never take selfies and whenever I do it's always the 0.5 groufie kind.

Who knows everything about you? Nobody. I like keeping certain things to myself.

What color is your sleeping bag? Dark blue.

When was the last time you used a sleeping bag? I have two foldable bags in my room that I like to treat as kind of like a mini sofa.

What is your favorite sleepover game? My friends and I...don't really play sleepover games...

What was your favorite Bratz doll? I wasn't into dolls much but I was obsessed with Bratz and had lots of non-doll merch like shirts, boots, lunchboxes...anyway, my favorite used to be Jade.

What was your favorite American Girl doll? I'm not familiar with those.

Did you have a Barbie doll with your hair color? I don't think so. I didn't have a lot of Barbie dolls to begin with.

Are you ok? I wish I was on a 3-month break instead of a 3-day break, but otherwise I'm fine.

How many months until your next birthday? 8 months.

Do you have a best friend? Yes.

If there’s someone you want to be best friends with, who is it? I'm past the point of 'wishing' I was friends with certain people.

Who do you wish you were dating? I don't think of things like this.

Is there anyone you miss? No, I'm good.

Who do you hate and wish were dead? Nobody I know personally, but in general I wish this for child sexual abusers and animal abusers.

Are you bothered by your past? Nope, no use being stuck there.

Do you like drawing or painting better? I imagine I'd like painting more these days; I just haven't had the chance to do it.

What did you always want to do as a kid but were never allowed to do? Have a Friendster account. Literally EVERYBODY in my grade had them. These days I'm more sympathetic towards my parents and their reasons for not allowing me to be on any 'social media' at the time but back then it was obviously frustrating and baffling why they couldn't let me have this thing that everyone was doing.

Can you run fast? I can, I just don't really run anymore because I find it tiring haha.

Does your local library give out prizes for summer reading? I don't know what our local libraries do for like fun and whatnot.

What is your favorite ice cream topping? Chocolate chip cookie bits or chunks.

Do you want to die? I don't now, but I'm also not scared of it. If it happens, it happens.

Is your Bible falling apart? When I was in Catholic school we each had to own a Bible and what my parents gave me to use was the actual Bible from their wedding. The book would've been around 15-16 years old during the time I had to use it so it was very much on the way to being worn out and had a very strong antique book-y smell to it.

Do you doodle in the margins of your notebooks? Yes! Often when I was still in school. I'd do it on the back pages too.

What color is your favorite knitted scarf? I don't own scarves.

Do you need new boots this year? I don't own any boots either.

Do you have Christmas lights up in your room? No but my work/desk lamp is on pretty much 24/7.

Has a crush ever been mean to you? Kind of, yeah.

What states have you been to? Like US states? None of them. I've never been to America.

What states have you lived in? None.

What countries have you been to? China, Japan, South Korea, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand.

Where would you most like to travel to? I'd just love to go back to South Korea.

Elephants or llamas? Elephants.

Does your heart hurt right now? Nope.

What color is your bulletin board? I don't have one.

Are you hormones performing the way they are supposed to? I think so, yeah. I've never had a problem related to my hormones other than a few late periods, which all happened forever ago.

Which country’s flag is your favorite? I don't have a favorite flag.

Are you part Irish? Nope.

Are you part English? No.

What languages can you speak? English and Filipino.

Music or art? Art.

Cheetah print or plaid? Not really a fan of both. Hm, not an easy choice to make but uh cheetah I guess hahaha.

Polka dots or paisleys? Polka dots.

Have you ever been a witch for Halloween? I don't think I have been, no.

If you live in an apartment, is your landlord mean? I've never had experiences with landlords.

Who’s your favorite superhero? None of them.

Do you have a seashell collection? No. I never was into collecting them anyway.

Mermaids or dolphins? Dolphins.

Who was your best friend in eighth grade? Somebody not in my life anymore.

Do you get bullied? Well not now, but I used to be a target when I was younger.

Do your parents love you? Yes.

Do you know what the Bible’s definition of religion is? No. I probably wasn't listening when we took this up.

Do you feel alone? Haven't for a long time now.

What fashion essentials do you need that you don’t currently have right now? I pretty much have at least one of my fave articles at the moment but I do feel the need to get more baggy jeans and bucket hats.

Do you normally wear jeans until they rip and wear out? That doesn't really happen to me and the ones I own haha but in general I wear jeans until I feel that they're not really super trendy or fashionable anymore.

What season’s colors do you look best in? Idk we don't have your four seasons.

Do you want to start a business? I've had thoughts about it but I think it'll stay as a daydream. I barely have the knowhow for running a business.

What did you go to college for? Journalism.

Is abuse in your past? Yes.

Is there trauma in your past? Yes.

Do you know anyone who’s been raped? I do.

How many tattoos do you have? None.

Have you ever been rebellious? Yes, I was the problem child/black sheep/all-the-related-terms growing up but I will also readily defend myself for it. My upbringing wasn't the best and healthiest, and I know I would've turned out more decent if the adults around me just weren't themselves troubled.

Who do you look like? My mom.

Are you a dog or cat person? Dog.

What do you hate? Drivers who drive as if they desperately need to take a shit. Relax you'll get the fuck home.

[fandomfanarts]

So slot your pennies in the vending machine of love✨✨

[zafirosreverie]

Black & White (Julieta x reader)

Title and lyrics taken from Blanco y negro by Malú

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

"Come back here!!!"

You jumped as thunder rumbled over your head and turned just in time to see the youngest of the Madrigal triplets run towards you. Usually, you didn't mind getting caught in the middle of their fights, but you had been working on this song for days and if Pepa's rain messed up your notebook, there was going to be trouble.

However, when you noticed Bruno's worried look you felt your heart pity him. You just couldn't give him up! So you quickly closed your notebook and stood up, offering the boy a safe spot between you and the tree where you had been leaning.

Pepa approached you two with the storm above her head and you could see a worried Julieta a few meters behind her.

"I swear it wasn't me" Bruno whispered behind you

The way he said it made you melt. You were all in your 20's, but at the time he seemed like just a kid who had been at the wrong time in the wrong place and was going to be scolded for something that wasn't his fault. And by God you were going to defend him even if you didn't know what had happened, because if he said he hadn't done it, then he hadn't!

"Don't hide behind Y/N! Come out and answer for what you did!" Pepa roared

"Pepa, Pepa, can we calm down please?" you spoke softly, but the cloud above your heads thundered louder

"No, we can not!"

"Pepa-"

"Stay out of this Y/N!"

You didn't have time to react by the time the rain began to fall. The water seeped between the pages of your notebook and in a matter of seconds, you saw how all your work was gone between puddles and sad pieces of soaked paper.

"No no no no!" you cried "Stop the rain! Please!"

The three people around you watched stunned as you tried to cover your notebook with your clothes, but it was useless, you knew it was too late.

"Pepa! Stop the rain, damn it!!" you screamed

The redhead was startled. In all the years you had been friends with the triplets, you had never yelled at her for her powers. Neither at her nor her siblings, so whatever you had there, it must be of great importance. And she had ruined it.

Her guilt made the woman feel worse and instead of stopping, the rain fell harder.

"Pepa!"

"Stop yelling at her!" Julieta chimed in "You're only making it worse!"

"I worked on this for days!" you said desperately

You weren't really mad at Pepa, you knew that hadn't been her intention, but you had really put effort into that song and seeing all your hard work reduced to nothing made you feel helpless.

"Well you can do it again!" the brunette frowned "So don't yell at my sister for a bunch of stupid songs!"

"Stupid songs?!" you looked at her hurt

"Y/N-"

Bruno tried to calm you down with a hand on your shoulder while Pepa looked at her older sister in surprise, it was not common for Julieta to lose her temper, except when someone bothered her siblings. But you were her friend! And you hadn't really blamed her, you had just asked her to stop.

The brunette for her part looked at you with wide eyes and quickly covered her mouth with her hands. She hadn't meant that! She knew that the lyrics of your songs were important to you! She just wanted you to stop yelling at her sister!

"Y/N I-" she tried to apologize, but you stopped her

"Leave it, I don't want to hear it" you said angrily "I don't want to hear anything from you at all!"

The three of them watched as you ran home, with your notebook glued to your chest and your heart breaking. Julieta tried to go after you but Bruno stopped her, knowing that it would only make things worse. You needed to be alone.

Of the three, he was the one who most knew the importance of those doodles. He liked to sit next to you while you wrote, sometimes even giving you suggestions, enjoying the fact that you never seemed bothered by his presence. He knew that you were not hurt by it, but because the person to whom you had written so many beautiful words, had just told you that they were stupid.

Although his older sister did not know of your feelings for her, or that she was the muse of your inspiration, it did not erase the words that had come out of her lips.

________________________

Julieta sighed when the line of people ended. You hadn’t come.

Several days had passed since the fight and the brunette's guilt had only worsened. You had been ignoring and avoiding her, even when she decided to ignore Bruno and look for you herself, you hadn't opened the door. She knew she had hurt you, and she just wanted to be able to fix it.

She missed you. 

"No luck?" Pepa asked when her sister returned home

"She wasn't even sitting under her tree." Julieta shook her head.

"I'm so sorry, Juli" the redhead said, looking at the ground and nervously fidgeting with her hands. The air around her was beginning to get stronger.

"We already talked about this, Pepa, it wasn't your fault"

"You know it was. If I hadn't made it rain-"

"You were upset"

"But she asked me to stop and I didn't!"

"You were upset" the brunette repeated "Besides, I was the one who yelled at her and told her that her songs were stupid"

"You defended me"

"Yes but I didn't have to be so cruel"

"Are you guys done throwing the blame ball at each other yet?" Bruno suddenly asked, making his sisters jump.

"When did you-?"

"I was at Y/N’s" the boy interrupted

The two older sisters quickly approached him, waiting for him to continue. He was the only one who had been able to talk to you (Pepa had complained about your favoritism for him, but Bruno knew who your favorite triplet really was), but he rarely told them anything, respecting your decision to stay away from them.

"What did she say?" Pepa asked impatiently

"How is she?" Julieta added

"She's…better" Bruno replied "She said she didn't want to make this bigger"

"Bigger? She's ignoring us!"

"Pepa"

"Sorry"

"She said that she didn't want to talk to you while she was still upset. She didn't want to yell at you again" Bruno explained "she really worked hard on that song. I-it was for…for the person she likes, so it really was a special one"

"oh"

Bruno looked at his older sisters with concern. Pepa reacted as he expected, with guilt and the wind grew stronger, taking several things with it. But it was Julieta he was worried about.

Despite what people might think due to his nervous and asocial nature, Bruno was good at observing and reading people, often being the first to know of a change in a relationship, even before those involved.

That's why he knew very well that his older sister had long ago begun to see you as more than a friend, although he didn't know if Julieta herself had already realized it.

From the way the brunette clasped her hands together and the soft sigh that slipped silently from her lips, Bruno knew that she might have just done it at the moment. Damn it.

"B-but she's fine" he hastened to assure "She rewrote it a-and actually said that she had made some necessary changes, so I think deep down it was a good thing that she lost the first version"

Unfortunately, his tirade didn't do much to calm the little tornado Pepa was creating, or the hole that was starting to open up in Julieta's chest. Bruno wished he could comfort his sister, but this was something you had to do. You deserved that opportunity.

He just hoped it wouldn't take that long.

____________________

"How many roses will it cost me to make you forgive me?"

Julieta jumped when your voice came from behind her. She had been busy gathering her things (she wasn't going to admit that she expected you to arrive, like every day since the fight) and she hadn't heard you approach.

"Y/N!" She smiled and practically threw herself into your arms.

"Woa, easy tiger" you joked, but you still pressed her closer to you

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" she murmured quickly

"Juli"

"I didn’t want to say that"

"Juli"

"Your songs are not stupid"

"Julieta!"

The brunette jumped and looked at you in surprise when you carefully separated yourself from her.

"It’s ok" you smiled "I know you didn't mean it. And the truth is that I shouldn't have yelled at Pepa. I also have to apologize to her. But first I wanted to apologize to you"

"There is nothing to forgive"

"I shouldn't have ignored you for days"

"You were upset" she smiled at you "besides, it was my fault and-"

"Hey! If you don't let me blame myself, then you can't either" you scolded lightly

You felt weird trying to tease her after so many days, but you could see that the brunette appreciated the effort. It was a good start.

"So...how many roses are there going to be?" you asked again

"None" Julieta replied "Dinner with us and we're even"

"Well, I have to apologize to your sister anyway" she shrugged, hoping the blush on your face wasn't so noticeable.

"I'll see you later then"

You nodded and before you could turn around, Julieta grabbed your hand and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I missed you" she whispered.

And that just reassured you that you had to stick with your plan.

________________________

You took a deep breath to try to calm your nerves. Bruno had told you that everything would be fine, that he had seen it. But he didn't tell you if it would be "she'll reject you but she won't be upset" fine or "she likes you too" fine.

Either way, you tried to take comfort in the fact that you wouldn't lose Julieta after this, although you really hoped it was the latter.

You tried not to swallow when people started arriving and soon you had almost all of Encanto surrounding your tree. It was nothing new that you gave these small concerts, people liked them, but it was a special night!

When the four Madrigals arrived, the people gave them the places in front. Pepa sat on the shore, in case she got too excited and ended up wetting something. Bruno sat down next to his mother and they both gave you an encouraging smile. Alma was a strict woman, but she liked you and you knew that Bruno had already told her everything, so the fact that she was here to support you meant a lot to you.

Finally, Julieta sat closer to you. Her eyes looked at you with an indecipherable longing. You didn't know it, but she had heard you tell her brother that you were ready to sing that special song you wrote for your crush. She was proud and happy for you, but she didn't know if she was ready to let you go. Still, she tried to be a good friend and support you, no matter if her heart broke a little.

With no more reason to wait, you started scratching your guitar strings.

"Tonight, I want to dedicate a song to a very special person" you said, taking another breath before continuing "she...she is everything to me. We had a fight recently and these days made me realize how sad my life is without her. And from that feeling this song is born, which I hope will sing to the soul and let her know how much she means to me "

Your cheeks warmed as the crowd cheered and let out a few "awwwws." You took one last breath, you looked at Bruno, who nodded to give you courage and you began to sing.

You say white, I say black

You say I'm going, I say I'm coming

I see life in color and you in black and white

They say that love is enough

But I don't have the courage to face it

I carry you in my mind desperately

As much as I look for you

It's you who always finds me

Your eyes met Julieta's and you confirmed to the brunette what her heart wanted to be true: that you were talking about her. The brunette smiled at you and you felt your pulse quicken.

I give you my love, I give you my life

Despite the pain, it's you who inspires me

We are not perfect, just polar opposites

I love you strongly, I hate you at times

Julieta laughed at the little reference to your fight and the butterflies in your stomach got more excited.

I give you my love, I give you my life

I will give you the sun whenever you ask me

We are not perfect, just polar opposites

As long as I'm with you I would always try

Time stopped when you finished singing and you couldn't even hear the applause of the people, nor did you see Pepa's rainbow or the complicit smiles of Alma and Bruno. The only thing that mattered was Julieta.

Julieta, who was smiling at you with tears in her eyes. Julieta, who ran to you. Julieta, who took your face and kissed you deeply, making people cheer more.

Julieta, that loved you too.

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

Julieta tag: @emril-osvigne

[killemwithkawaii]

Hiiii!, this is an idea I got thanks to a TikTok video that said "Imagine a parallel world where real people are characters from anime, videogames, etc. And your favorite character creates fanfics and fanarts about you." I can't help but imagine Fisher writing on Tumblr about the s/o lol.

Holy shit Holy Shit HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT-

Sally as a Selfshipper-

[CW: self depreciation, unreality]

>When he first sees S/O, he could swear a chorus of angels had begun to sing and had swept him right off his feet. He couldn't take his eye off of S/O for a few minutes, absolutely and undeniably smitten, before he realized what just happened and felt pretty embarrassed about it. He knows he can't set his standards for a romantic partner very high, but they should at least be real… right?

>Denial about his feelings/ 'I just think (media) is neat' ➡ Bargaining/ 'I'll just look up the wiki pages and articles about the show. Saving a few images won't hurt, right?' ➡ Depression/Anger/ 'God, I'm really in love with some pixels I am such a loser.' ➡ Gradual Acceptance/'Everyone thinks I'm a weirdo anyway this might as well happen' pipeline

>I'd bet he'd be a lurker in the selfship and f/o tags for a long time, liking a bunch of imagine posts and images of S/O but leaving his page pretty bare besides the necessary info to interact with certain blogs. He resisted posting his own content until his feelings for S/O grew too big to keep in, and he knew people in the selfshipping community would understand what he was going through.

>When posting those dreaded first few gushes didn't kill him instantly, he started posting a few times a week, and all of his content is so goddamn romantic! Lots of pining under screenshots he took of S/O, sappy poetry/songs, painstakingly selected playlists, some personally-tailored imagines and a few cute little doodles on lined paper that he did his best on and was feeling brave enough to post (because he was thinking of S/O encouraging him 💘)

>And then he would have a venty (occasionally horny) sideblog that is technically unlinked to his main but he's not good at hiding it and everyone in the community is like 'oh yeah thats his side blog we didnt think it was a secret??' Reblogs lots of angst/comfort fics, quotes about the universe and love that isn't meant to be, "At least my fictional bf/gf thinks I'm cute" posts, etc.

>Might eventually make one or two selfship friends that he DMs, but definitely has some silent mutuals that pop up in his notes.

>Has sent in a few anonymous requests to fic writers that he will not admit to. He doesn't use sign-offs, but you can always guess he requested them because he's the first to like them. His emoji use and the way he types gives him away, too.

>Says he's fine sharing S/O because he doesn't want to be 'that guy,' but he is 'that guy' and quietly blocks the selfship tags of people that also F/O them.

>Nobody IRL can know ever know about his selfshipping or his crush on S/O EVER (but his friends have a feeling. And eyes.)

>Has one (1) self-insert that is just him but without the prosthetic and mental illness and trauma (and maybe a little taller than his IRL self)

>Consumes S/Os media regularly, but prefers to do so alone so he can stare, swoon and longingly sigh in private.

>Chronic (occasionally maladaptive) f/o daydreamer

>"I'm not ''''In looooove~''''' with [media]/[S/O]!" (Said while shoving a mountain of merch into his closet)