#and now whenever I feel hopeless I'm like but there's always something to look forward to: kinning Charles on tumblr.com

[softxsuki]

Hello, can I have a urgent request please? Headcanons platonic jjk (itadori, nanami, sukuna) with best friend!reader that learned she can't have kids? My gf found out today she is infertile and it's hard for her since she always wanted kids and I'm trying everything to help her feel better and she really like your headcanons, so some headcanons of them comforting reader please, thank you so much!!

Itadori, Nanami, and Sukuna (Separate) Comforting BestFriend!Reader Who Finds Out She Can't Have Children

Pairings: Itadori x Fem!Reader (Platonic), Nanami x Fem!Reader (Platonic), Sukuna x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Mentions of infertility and not being able to have children, sadness, hopelessness

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 1k

Summary: In which you receive bad news that you can't have children even though it's been your dream to become a mother one day. You go to your best friends for some comfort and they come through for you

[A/N: Hello! Thank you for coming to me with this urgent request. I wrote it as fast as I could. I'm so sorry to hear that you GF received such bad news about something she's been dreaming of for so long. I glad she likes my work though, and I really hope this can help her feel better, even if it's just a tiny bit. I'm sending her all the biggest and most warm hugs right now! <3]

Itadori:

Itadori is shocked to say the least

He remembers all the times you’d excitedly ramble on and on about becoming a mother and having a child of your own; how you’d take care of them, what clothes you’d buy for them, lists upon lists of potential baby names that would be cute

Yet, in a matter of seconds, all those dreams came crashing down for you and Itadori was heartbroken for you

He’d be your shoulder to cry on and your listening ear whenever you’re ready to really talk about it

“I’m so sorry things turned out this way for you, Y/N. I’m not entirely sure what I can say to help you feel better, but if you need anything at all, I’ll be there for you in a second. You know that right?”

Probably one of the best comforters out there, he tries his best to take your mind off of the bad news by having movie nights with you, or inviting you out for dinner or just to hangout around the city

He’s really worried about you and wants you to seek professional help so you can talk so someone who can help you truly overcome this horrible news and maybe offer you some steps you can take moving forward that might give you a little more hope towards your future family

He’s with you every step of the way, no matter what you decide to do; whether you want to keep trying with your partner, or if you want to look into adoption, he’ll be your backbone all the way through

Just a little cute thing he does: whenever Mother’s Day comes, he wishes you a Happy Mother’s Day, even if you don’t have a child, because he knows how amazing of a mother you would have been and he doesn’t want you to feel left out of a celebration that you should be included in!

Nanami:

Nanami the realist–he is disappointed for you because he knows how good of a mother you would have been

He’s very understanding of your sadness and does his best to try to cheer you up in anyway that he can

But he immediately starts thinking of other options that you could take; choices you still have as a young woman who wants to start her own family

He does all the research for you (yes he’ll go into overtime for you, his best friend) and sets it aside to bring it up at a later time when you aren’t so down

Surrogate, adoption, other treatments–there are plenty of options for you to take

“I don’t want to bring your hopes up by presenting all these options to you if they don't work. I mean, many women have been deemed infertile, but were able to have a child eventually thanks to all these treatments. It’s up to you and your partner now. You can both decide what you want to do, and I’ll be here if you need anything at all. You know you can call me at anytime of the day”

He’s very cautious around you and doesn’t want to accidentally be blunt or pressure you into talking about something you’re not ready to talk about yet, so in the meantime while you’re sorting through all your confusing, and painful emotions, he remains by your side and offers as much support as he can

He’s a little awkward though, not gonna lie

If you’re watching a movie with him and there's a scene with a mother and her child, he gets all stiff and turns it off

Or if you’re out in public and see a family with kids all together, he turns you around before you can see it, in fear that it might make you feel sad

He’s very attentive and will quite literally drop anything to help you or just listen to you if you ever need him 

Sukuna:

How did you manage to tame and befriend Sukuna? I have no idea, but for some reason he’s extremely, uncharacteristically, soft around you

You’d expect the man deemed so evil to laugh in your face as soon as he hears the news, but instead, he’s shocked

He was lowkey hoping to be the godfather or at least an uncle to your children one day in the future, but that future seemed to dwindle from his mind as well as yours

He might act a little sarcastic and brush it off like it’s nothing, just so he doesn’t make a big deal about it in front of you and potentially make you feel even worse, but deep down he’s really disappointed

Probably tries some sketchy methods to make it possible for you to have children again? Is that possible? Idk, but he brought Itadori back to life so maybe

If you don’t want him interfering though, then please tell him clearly and firmly with as much detail as possible that you don’t want him to, because he will try and find a loophole around your words

And honesty, Sukuna hates children, but for some reason the sound of a child that YOU had made didn’t sound so bad to him, so he really hates the idea of adoption

After a few weeks of you finding out the bad news, he’d probably encourage you to not give up

Ignore him if this bothers you or tell him to shut up (don’t worry he won’t hurt you, he’d never hurt you. No matter what you do to him)

“I’m sorry for always bringing it up. Just tell me if you don’t want me to bring it up again and I won’t.”

Look at that, you got this man to apologize for the first time in his life

But really, he feels for you and he hates to see you so upset, he’ll actually destroy the world for you, his best friend, so keep him on a short leash

Becomes very protective over you, so let’s hope he doesn’t catch anyone saying anything bad to you about you not being able to have children because he’s crazy, he WILL fight (or worse) again keep that leash short and hold on firmly because he’s a loose canon

You do find that being around him and his unique personality does cheer you up eventually, he’s good at distracting you by saying something so out of pocket about someone that you can’t help BUT to laugh

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 10/5/2022

[give-soup-please]

Previous anon here

I understand. Hell, I even get your perspective, at first you were Just Some Guy, but then I saw more of you. You're the guy who really likes soup, who likes analysing and enjoying fan content, who ran away from home. The guy who lived a life worth considering a story in of itself. When someone makes something that I enjoy, I feel happy and associate that happiness with them. I always rejoiced whenever I saw your comments, I love hearing what authors think of their works, or just commentary on it. Just. The person behind the art puts a lot of the art into context.

And I'll be honest, I've read your response over and over again. I don't think it's still sunk in that this blog has an expiration date. Despite that, I feel pressured by myself to say "oh, you can still think of the characters, you can still love them", but considering your ride or die artistry, I feel more negative will come from positive there. (Apologies if this is a bit all over the place, it is roughly 4am.)

Just. I care about you. I feel emotions for you. I see a you behind the curtain of words that you display, and I care. I feel comforting warmth when you post, showing you're alive. I feel conflicted and bittersweet about this whole situation, and I feel hopeless yet hopeful that there'll be a happy ending to this. I want to say that you can walk your own path, but I don't know enough to say that. I want and wish to be able to help or know what to say for comfort, but instead it's just this jambling mess. I'll miss you, and I'll be concerned for you. What I want to do is pull you close, hug you tight enough to make all the bad problems be squeezed out, and work together on the ones that can't be squeezed out. But I am a stranger on the Internet staying up well past their bedtime. And you are another stranger on the Internet, probably sleeping much more consistently than me. I wish I could end this on something thoughtful and daring and caring, but I'm nearly passing out every time I close my eyes. So, know that you are loved, even if it's the most distant, platonic love you've ever seen.

See ya soupman 🍜🍜🍜

I've kept this in my inbox for a while now, just smiling every time I read it. I'm glad that you and others have gotten joy out of what I've produced over the summer, and I'm doubly glad that people are enjoying the glimpses they see of the person behind the blog.

The relationship I have between my hobbies, my academic life, and the characters I love dearly is a complicated one. Even now, despite the fact that I've been thinking through a response for this for 2+ weeks, I still have trouble defining it. I will always love TSP, there's no way out of it, and I believe that the narrator is one of those exceptionally rare characters who I will always enjoy thinking about and rotating in my head. That won't go away, despite my attempts to suppress how I feel about the game. Believe me, I tried. It didn't work, the narrator lives rent free in my head and is outrageously smug about it. Even now, if I concentrate, I can see him grinning, kicking his feet back, and refusing to go. And frankly, I love him for it. Smug bastard.

The blog can't continue, I already made that determination when I started looking at what being a full time student means. It's a shame, but I only have the brainpower to focus on one at a time. And rather than keep stringing people along and have them wait and hope I get to their request, I decided it would be easier on all of us to make a clean break.

Me going off to college is... technically a happy ending in its own right. It's a matter of perspective, really. I'm majoring in English, my long standing passion. The thing it feels like I was born to do. I wrote my first story when I was five, devoured my first analysis essay at twelve, and I was set on the road for wonderful things. I get to read books and write all day, and you can bet that I'm looking forward to it. On top of that, if I keep my GPA high enough, I've got guaranteed housing for the next 2-3 years, depending on how I play my cards. (That's a long story by itself, a combination of unexpected financial help and scholarships.) As a technically homeless youth living in the most expensive state in America, that's huge. Housing is so hard to come by, and I'm incredibly lucky to have the resources I do. It's either go to college, or risk going to the streets. I know which choice I'm making.

While the direction my life is taking isn't the happy fairytale ending everyone hopes for, it's definitely not a tragedy either. It's a complicated transition between one phase of my life and another. There's grief and bitterness and sorrow, but also a lot of joy and excitement.

There are lovely books in this ivory tower, and the gilded cage is comfortable. I am genuinely content, now that the grief is starting to pass. I mean- they're offering a 'video games and culture' class. C'mon, I'm going to take that for the pure excuse and joy to rant about TSP in essay format. Hell, I'll do my dissertation on it down the line, if the chance ever presents itself. Even within complicated situations, there are ways to find joy and entertainment. I'm planning on taking fun, easy A classes wherever I can. Life will be good, because I'm going to make it that way, even within my limitations.

I appreciate your words, whoever you are. I do not know you, I do not recognize your writing style, but your words are seen and appreciated. Hugs, both physical and virtual, are appreciated too.

I'm wishing you well, anon, just as much as you wish it for me.

[keefwho]

Acceptance

I've been crying my eyes out in the shower for the past 30 minutes trying to accept all the pain I feel these days. As time goes on I keep realizing more and more how unhappy I am with everything. I keep having to adjust to changing times. I have on a really old rain ambience video I used to put on for comfort because it's reminding me of times I wish I had back. A time I felt like I had something to fall back on and something to look forward to. I don't feel any hope anymore. Im trying to accept how hopeless I feel, or how lonely I feel, or how worthless I think I am. These are all truths, I feel this way. I miss a time where I was just worried about my anxiety instead. I miss when I had someone at my back whenever I needed it. How do I accept the reality I have now? Its so miserable. I dont even know who I am anymore. What do I have to offer anyone? I feel so bland. I feel different, left out.

How can I accept how used to feeling sorrow I am? How my entire life feels like one big disappointing episode? I'm addicted at this point. I feel hopelessly obsessed with finding situations that hurt me. Until one day I'll go too far.

How do I accept how it feels like everyone always ends up trying to escape me?

How do I accept that I may never be loved?

How do I accept feeling like a negative in everyone's life? I feel it better if I weren't around anymore.

[stfuviolet1]

The Start of A New Beginning. 24/08/23

Can you feel it? do you feel what I'm feeling? I feel like for the first time in my life, I'm having the healthiest relationship with myself. probably not perfect yet but am getting there. slowly, each day trying to discover and actually listen to myself, my body, my skin, my mind, my personality, my traits, my weaknesses, my strengths and my wellbeing as a whole. the price I have to pay for getting to where I am now? 5 months of suffers, depression and and isolation. not to mention, numbers of friends I've lost as I shut myself from everyone and disconnect myself from social medias. Feels like the only person I'm talking to right now is Isma and syaza. I was a lil triggered when oomf literally asked if I'm dead in our WhatsApp group I mean looking back at how suicidal I was few months ago but thank god acap voiced out of how immature he is. dude first you made fun of our friend for ghosting and now you're tryna do the same to me ? how old are you? 15 ? we all have our life and sometimes there will be time where we outgrow people and that's okay. but anyways, quoting Drake;

''I been losin' friends and findin' peace But honestly, that sound like a fair trade to me''

So yeah, how do I begin. For someone who grows up in pretty much toxic environment (don't make me start with my dysfunctional family cs that's gonna take forever) I've always been my biggest critic. there are times where id give myself a pat in the back whenever I accomplish something but when I screw up? I emotionally and sometimes physically hurt myself. at one point the amount of self love is nonexistent. I hated almost everything about myself from my name, my birthday, my body, my looks like why do I even exist. fast forward 27 years later, she's still right here breathing but suffocating from all the troubles and pains. ungrateful? maybe.

It's gotten worse early this year when I hit rock bottom and struggle with my physicality that I avoided almost everyone that exist in my life including my family. Funny how 2022 was the best year of my life but 2023 is the total opposite of 2022 and in fact, worse than the year where I broke up with my long term partner. Ngl I'd take breakup heartbreaks over this kind of heartbreaks anytime. I'd rather have boys breaking my heart than feeling self conscious all the time. The never ending low self esteem has caused me to lose so much weight and doubles the insecurities that I already have. I felt hopeless, helpless that the only way to escape all those pains is through death. Until one day, I decided that I've had enough. I've had enough feeling sorry for myself and I've had enough being my own enemy. If Im not picking myself up, no one else would. Apparently, its not the problem, the people around me that been causing pain, its me, myself. I had a weak mindset. I had a poor mind game I was unable to control my own mind, when everything begins with mindset. And now that I've realised, its time to play the real game. Imma show who the real boss is.

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

cannot fucking BELIEVE some little idiot like me was able to get both of these. mash fandom you guys are really dropping the ball here wtf. well this ought to teach you a lesson. someone with a fucking 2012 era superwholock blog has these canon URLs now and there’s nothing you can do about it.

on a completely unrelated note hi guys I know I’ve never changed URLs once in the almost-decade since I first made this blog but what if I did now. would you be mad. 

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

⤷ chapter twenty six: spotlight

prev < masterlist > next

It was no surprise to people who always saw Atsumu that his eyes were constantly filled with a glitter that just managed to shine regardless of whether it was day or night. Volleyball, volleyball, and volleyball - perhaps, if you take time to ask these people what they think is the reason for that glitter, that would be their only answer. To those who truly knew him though, their answer might just be a tad bit different. Sakusa YN - from the moment he met you up to the present, a certain gleam seems to appear whenever you are the center of the topic. At least, that’s what Osamu has observed.

Kiyoomi concluded it’s just him unconsciously being a hopeless romantic for you. The grey haired lad remembers him saying it was pathetic, as always. But then again, he couldn’t deny the truth behind your brother’s words.

That said, he also knows that no one would have expected the same set of bright eyes to dull its sparkle. Unfortunately for the two of them (or three if you count Kiyoomi based on how often he visits the two of them now), you managed to take it away from him. There in the couch where you once sat during movie nights laid Atsumu, staring at the endless nothing, tears occasionally welling up his eyes as he remembers you, the way you looked at him as strangers do - empty, loveless, cautious.

It was karma. No matter how many times he tries to repeat it himself, it just doesn’t ease the thorns that prick his heart every millisecond that passes and every time, he just feels so sorry because he knows you felt the same pain before. How have you managed to get through it for more than twenty years? He has no idea because he sure as hell won’t be able to last one more day with it. Still, he can’t do anything but sit, mull over his self-sabotaged fate.

As he drowns himself deeper into his misery, a series of vigorous knocks disturb the twins’ “peace.” Osamu furrows his eyebrows together, a sense of oddness and urgency coming to him because Kiyoomi doesn’t knock that way - even when it comes to announcing his presence, your brother tries to be as prim and respectful as possible, knocking only thrice before waiting for the door to be opened, another three when he thinks no one heard him from the inside. Hence why the continuous knocks annoyed the grey haired.

Still, he begrudgingly sauntered towards the door and opened it, mouth ready to scold the person in front of him but he got beaten to it, “Where’s Atsumu?”

In her usual get up, Yui stood, a very much obvious fake smile plastered on her face and Osamu wanted nothing but to grab her hair and drag her to the deepest parts of hell for making you suffer (no one gets to do that except for him, he’s the only one who has the ‘drinking buddy and best friend’ privilege’).

Mentally, he took a deep breath before mustering the most sincere smile he can give her (it’s strained and forced, he knows it deep down), “Hello, Yui-san. I don’t think today’s the best day to-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yui shoved past him and walked inside the house, acting as if she owned it. Osamu watched her trudge her way towards the living room in disbelief, fists clenching so hard it was painful already. Oh dear lord, please… just for today, let me strangle this woman… I’m willing to spend the rest of my life in jail if it means I get to do that for YN.

“Atsumu-kun!” She squeals upon seeing the blonde, ungracefully throwing her whole body to him, much to his shock (and annoyance).

“Y-Yui? What the fuck?” He shoves her away from him and backs up, creating a space which makes Osamu cheer quietly and form a devilish smile. Obviously not expecting the unappreciated response to her actions, she huffs, “You didn’t have to push me that hard, jerk Atsumu! That hurt me!”

“Yui-san…” Atsumu sighed exasperatedly, “I’m not in the mood, okay? Just… just leave, please?”

Yui’s smile disappears from her face and soon, an angry expression replaces it, “You’re such an ungrateful asshole, Miya. I’m busy and here I am, making time for you and you’re telling me to leave? Me?! THE Yui you wanted so much before? How dare y-”

“I didn’t ask you to come here, didn’t I? Just fucking read the room, Yui. I don’t like you here, not right now, not ever. I’m sorry but whatever I thought before, I was wrong. So just fucking leave,” he spat, patience running dry because all he wanted was sulk his life away in the couch.

As if finally being enlightened by the current situation, Yui begins to laugh, “Oh. my. god. Did she finally tell you? Wait… did she actually cut your thread? That’s why you look so miserable right now?”

Atsumu stands up from the couch, disbelief all over his face, “You knew?!”

The girl continues to holler her ugly laugh, “Ah, so hilarious! Of fucking course, Atsumu! One look at her pathetic face and I knew. Hell, I didn’t even need a Moira to figure it out. It was so fun, acting all sweet with the clueless you… and there she is, on the verge of tears every time!”

She wipes the fake tears away from her eyes, “But I guess she got tired too. I mean… you’re just so dumb, Atsumu. So hopeless and so easy to play with,” her fingers trace his jawline, rolling her eyes and snickering when he slapped it away from him.

“Now that I think about it again, you two shouldn’t have played Cinderella. You fit more into the criteria of Sleeping Beauty… you’re like Aurora, was it? But like, without the cure of a kiss because you ruined your true love! That’s my curse for you!”

The blonde grits his teeth, tears uncontrollably falling down his cheeks despite his desperation to stop them. Yui sees it and lets out a fake coo, “Aww, look at you, crying. You must be feeling so guilty, huh? It’s okay, I’m here… I can be the princess you’ve always wanted. You just have to behave like the foolish little prince you are.”

Osamu curses, taking a step forward to drag the girl out of their home but a voice stops him from doing so, “Is it fun? Playing with people’s fates like toys?”

Yui and Atsumu whip their head towards the source of the voice and Osamu is filled with relief upon seeing your brother standing, an unamused look on his face. Clearly liking the attention she was getting, Yui replies, “Ooh, what are you all? Avengers for YN? Protection squad or something? But to answer your question, yes! I’m enjoying it very much… but that doesn’t concern you, does it, Sakusa-kun?”

Kiyoomi paused for a second, removing his shoes and leaving them by the door, walking nearer the two, not too close but just enough to show her his height and intimidate her somehow, “You’re right, it doesn’t. If anything, I’m glad it’s all over now so my sister doesn’t have to suffer in between your acts of foolishness. But for some reason,” he trails off, looking down at her and throwing a look of disgust, “I pity you - because your fate is just as fucked up as theirs - your soulmate doesn’t remember you too and looking at you right now, something is telling me that you regret it too… because you have no one left. No Iwaizumi, no Atsumu.”

Judging by the way she glared at him, Kiyoomi feels a sense of accomplishment for hitting right on the nail.

“You-!”

“How unfortunate, Yui-san… the spotlight is not on you anymore.”

Silence filled the house right after Yui rapidly walked out of the house, a string of curses for your brother flowing out of her mouth. But Kiyoomi couldn’t care any less; instead, he turns to Atsumu who was already looking at him in awe before snapping off his thoughts and mumbling, “Omi… uhm… thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” is the only thing he replies, “I won’t do anything for you...”

Atsumu swallows harshly, the bitter truth making it hard for him to do so, “Right.”

“... at least not anymore after this one,” he finishes, handing the blonde some neatly folded documents. Osamu smiles from where he stood, side-leaning against the doorway leading to the kitchen, as if he already had an idea what the papers were for. His twin’s eyes scan them and as if by a miracle, a familiar glitter appears in them, accompanied by a hopeful expression as he lifts his head and looks at your brother.

“Omi, this…”

“Be ready in three months. I hope you’re not scared of riding planes.”

note. i'm so sorry for the very very long gap between these updates T_T i swear i'll try to update more frequently now, at least school's being less of an ass these days (don't say sike pls)

[amindofstone]

Match-up, No. 1

Anon asked:

"oh hi hello! i just saw the match up posts and i got super excited cause i love your writings and i never had to chance to send an ask like this lol! i'm 19 years old but i'll be 20 this year. i'm pretty tall for a girl (173 cms!) but still i'm on the chubbier side because i eat a lot and im proud of it lol. i have green eyes, and raven black hair, medium length with short bangs, because i dye it regularly, but normally i'm a blonde! also idk if this matters but i'm straight!

i really like cooking, it's a big passion of mine, i also love singing! music is a big part of my life, i cannot go a second without listening to something and i've always been like this. even though i'm not talented about it, i love to listen to it. i'm a big hopeless romantic so i'm a sucker for anything that's romantic, like movies, songs, books etc! i really wish nothing but for real and pure love! i also collect toys and figures cause i didn't had the chance to buy them when i was little.

i really dislike being left alone. i don't have many friends or loved ones, but whenever i have to leave them for something it hurt's me a lot. i don't like too much people around me but i really adore the ones who i care about. other than that, i hate the way i look most of the time. since i was a little girl i was never comfortable with my body and had lots of issues with it but im trying to do my best to love myself!

i know this was too long but i couldnt stop myself so i hope its okay! im so much lookinf forward to this match up thingy! thank u soooo much for the chance! take care ❤️"

a/n: First of all thank you so much. I'm so so glad to see that you like my work. This is a great motivation for me to keep writing. This really made my day. 💙 And I really hope that you'll be liking what will come next. I really hope that I didn't disappoint you my dear anon. This is my first time doing something like this and going honest I'm really insecure and anxious when it gets to my work. I'm never happy or satisfied by the outcome... But that's not the point. It's about you. So if there is something bothering you please don't hesitate and DM me or anything and tell me. Other than that happy reading! 🙈

Match up rules can be found HERE.

Warning(s): maybe some grammatical or spelling mistakes since English is my third language and I'm still improving in every aspect. (Please have mercy on that))

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. Please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture is not mine. Credits to: Lord know who. IF anyone knows who did it please tell me so I can give credits. Thank you. :) !!!

• I think that you and Sanji would give a great pair.

• There are a lot of traits of you that resemble that of Sanji in my opinion. And exactly this was the reason why Sanji started to spend more time with you and get to know you more than Nami or Robin.

• Whenever Luffy screams from the top of his lungs "SANJI! FOOD!!" you scream back from wherever you are right now "Gimme a minute and I'll get you something!", before Sanji can react to the food loving man.

• Sanji loves it when you join him cooking because you two seem to be able to work together without having to communicate. But even if Sanji would like to talk to the beauty that was next to him he wouldn't dare saying a word because as much as he loved talking to you he loved listening to you sing while you prepared anything you were on at the moment. Sometimes he would just stop in his tracks and just watch you dance around the kitchen whenever one of your favourite songs starts to play in the radio. He would watch every of your moves and smile like a idiot.

• After some time passing Sanji manned up and asked you out in the most romantic way. Sanji prepared a picnic with some snacks under that one tree with the wing (I hope you know what I mean 😂). Everything was set. You were in the girls cabin reading a novel when you heard a light knock. You didn't look up and just told whoever was there to come in but the person simply knocked another time what made you stand up with a scuff. You were ready to scold anyone that was there for ruining your peaceful reading session but there was no one except of a huge bouquet of red roses. It had a little note in it saying that someone is waiting for you down on deck. With a huge smile on your lips you stepped out of your room just ro realise that the way down to the deck was decorated by flower pedals. The sight in front of you made your heart race. You didn't wanted the feeling that grew with every second in you to stop. But you made it down and was greeted by the blond man you were always fond of. He took your hand in his and lead you to the swing and made you sit down.

• He took both of your hands in his and looked you in the eyes while giving the most sweetest confession ever made. And of course you said yes and wanted to date him

• dating him was the best thing that happened to you. He was sweet and caring. He spend every free second with you. If you were close to him he would always grab your hand and intertwine them. Sometimes he would appear out of nowhere and give you a kiss and compliment a different part of your body just to leave you dumbfounded and confused with a racing heart.

• There was this island the straw hats docked on and to their luck there was a festival planned for the night of the day they came. So Nami and Robin took you shopping and made Sanji go have fun on his own. Unlike these two you wanted something fancy that wasn't a dress but they still brought a few for you to put you in later on. And they managed to get you in a short sleeveless pretty blue-black dress. They did your make-up and theirs and ran out when Franky yelled that the fireworks were about to get blown what was the sign for the beginning of the festival. But you didn't came out because you felt uncomfortable in your current state.

• Sanji sensed that something was wrong and made his way to you only to find you standing in front of the mirror and looking at yourself with a tilted head and slight pout. Sanjis eyes widen at the sight of you. Because of 1. He couldn't believe how good that dress locked on you 2. He was shocked because he knew that you didn't like the way you looked.

• "How dare you!? How dare you not love this beautiful sight?! Baby! Darling! Love! Please don't. You look stunning. Simply gorgeous now please allow me to take you to the festival and brag with the fact that I can call the most beautiful woman mine."

• As you can see Sanji doesn't, can't and won't tolerate you being insecure so he took it upon himself to push your ego and make you love yourself as much as he loves and adores you.

• On the festival Sanji would never let go of you. He would constantly have you close to him so he could protect you no matter what happens. He makes sure to once in a while ask you if you're alright or if you want to go back to the sunny since he knew that you're not a fan of crowed places.

• Sanji left you alone for a few minutes but sat you down on a less crowded and also quieter place to get some drinks. You were happily looking at the ocean when a guy approached you and started a conversation with you. You were clear not liking it but still tried to talk nicely. But the guy seemed to understand your friendliness in a different way and got closer. You told him to keep a distance but he laughed it away and simply acted as if you said nothing. You felt uncomfortable and suffocated so you were about to stand up when Sanji came and kicked him out of the chair with a sweet smile upon his lips saying "Thank you for keeping my seat warm but now move your pathetic stupid ass away and leave me alone with my girl."

• When the guy left he took you in his arms and apologised while sitting you down on his lap while asking you probably a bunch of times of you're doing good or if he hurt you.

Bonus:

• While Sanji confessed his love to you Zoro was in the crows nest watching you two with a disgusted and confused look while silently praying for you to reject him but sadly you didn't. In fact you even kissed him. "TF is that stupid woman doing?!"

[simplyclary]

Supergirl: El Mayarah, Stronger Together

(Photo credits: TVLine)

"Hope, Help and Compassion for all". This is one of Supergirl's most famous lines and this is what she is mostly known for.

For its six-year run, Supergirl has been one of the series that has been inspiring people, especially young girls, that they are as strong as they think they can be. Supergirl served as their beacon of hope and seeing that this wonderful and inspiring show end is bittersweet for the fans who will be watching as it is for the cast and crew who made this show possible.

This show has impacted me in a way that I never thought possible. It was because of the character of Kara Danvers/Supergirl (Melissa Benoist) that I continue to pursue my studies in journalism. It is also because of her that I am as hopeful as I am today. This show has inspired me to be the best version of myself and has taught me that there's always a solution to even the most impossible problem. I owe part of my life to Supergirl. I will miss seeing her fly and help people with that charming smile and hope-filled voice of hers.

In line of celebrating this show, let me lay down some of my most favorite moments that I will remember for the rest of my life.

Supergirl's Hope-Filled Speeches and Broadcasts

Supergirl is known among her friends in the ArrowVerse as the "Paragon of Hope". Despite all she has endured in her life, she still remains hopeful for a brighter tomorrow. Everytime I watch an episode that includes a speech from her, I feel inspired because sometimes, I felt that she was not only talking to the people on the show, but also to the audience and there are certain times that her messages resonate with me. I admit to sometimes using bits of her messages to my friends whenever they feel hopeless.

Kara's Journalistic Dedication (and Need for Glasses)

This is where I could get kind of cheesy, but believe me when I tell you that Kara is one of my main inspirations in pursuing the course of journalism. Watching her grow from an assistant to Cat Grant (Calista Flockhart) in Season 1 to a reporter in Season 2 onwards, she was one of those fictional journalists that I really look up to. It may only be her day job, but she also helps people by way of her exposing the wrongdoings and corruptions in National City, and sometimes, Kara has more impact than Supergirl, and that is something I really loved. Her journalistic dedication had such an impact on me that I teared up when she told Andrea (Julie Gonzalo) that she quit.

This may sound cheesier than the first one, but Kara was also my inspiration upon getting my first pair of glasses. I admit to being a bit of a crybaby upon knowing that I already needed glasses because my vision was already blurred, and Kara really helped me through that. Her glasses on the show was my basis for my first ever pair of glasses which unfortunately broke in 2020 but I still carry a reference picture of those glasses up until now.

Super Adventures Across the Multiverse

Crossover events is one of the things that I really look forward to every year, for I get to see Supergirl interact with other heroes, like The Flash (Grant Gustin), White Canary (Caity Lotz), Green Arrow (Stephen Amell), among others and their adventures are really awesome to watch that I feel like I'm watching a movie but not. Crossover events without her would somehow feel like there's a missing puzzle piece but I still enjoy it either way. Also, that musical crossover episode with The Flash is something I will forever love.

Bonds with Family and Friends

Most of my favorite moments from the show may fall under this category because I think this is what really makes the show special. Kara's bond with her adoptive sister Alex (Chyler Leigh) is so tight that I really get saddened when they are not together and cry when they reunite. Her bond with her friends Lena (Katie McGrath), Nia (Nicole Maines), Winn (Jeremy Jordan), J'onn J'onzz (David Harewood), James (Mehcad Brooks), Brainy (Jesse Rath), Kelly (Azie Tesfai) among others are just some of the best friends bonds that I have ever seen. You could really tell that they are so close with one another by way of how they bond over solving galactic problems or simple game nights at Kara's place.

These are just some of my favorite moments throughout the whole six-year run of the show and I will really love these moments from here on out.

Bittersweet Goodbyes and Thanks

This entire show would not have been possible if it weren't for the cast and crew who made it happen, even shooting the final season amidst a global pandemic. Their dedication to making this show for the fans is praiseworthy, words are not enough on how I could thank them for making all of this possible.

To the whole cast, Melissa, Chyler, Jeremy, Mehcad, David, Nicole, Jesse, Azie, Katie, Julie, Jon and the many other talented people who have joined the cast, even just for a brief time, your talent is really what made this show magical. I could not imagine anyone else playing the roles that you have played. You have portrayed your roles flawlessly and each of them will have a special place in my ArrowVerse fandom journey. You will leave such a super legacy in the hearts of every fan in the world.

To the dedicated crew who made sure that every episode was written well, and who made sure that filming was safe during the pandemic, you all deserve such a big hug for all the hard work and dedication that you have put into this beautiful show for the past six years. I thank each and every one of you for your hard work and dedication.

Here's to closing a chapter of the Girl of Steel. EL MAYARAH!

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

I absolutely LOVE Sketchy Saturdays and I always look forward to them!! As for my question(s)? What made you decide to start doing it(I'm glad you do but I was just curious!)?

Hoooo boi the Sketchy Saturday Origin Story: I suppose there's two versions.

The short version reads " Moving stress, deployment depression, and isolation VS. my utter determination to DO SOMETHING whilst trapped in my home " -- Sketchy Saturday was the result of that title fight, so I guess the fandom won in the end? XD

The long version, however... Well, buckle up, cause this is gonna be a ride.

It may surprise y'all to know that two years I was eyeballs-deep in the South Park fandom. The blog still exists; my mainblog, JustCallMeButtlord, built to interact with the audience of my fanfictions-- the New Kid Stories, called NKS for short [gonna be porting those to Ao3 soon, just gotta figure out what robo-reader I'm gonna use to make a quick n dirty podfic out of the series as well as help me hunt down typos my eyes galze over]. The first 'season' of stories had ended, 8 completed fics, and I was puttering about with a bonus holiday story that was several months out of season. Not that I CARED because I was on GUAM where seasons don't exist and my time blindness gets even worse becasue without seasons changing it feels like time never progrsses even after being on the island for three cocksucking years.

I don't hate Guam, I am just not built for constant heat. I am a snow creature; I like below-freezing temperatures so I can layer up in fuzzy, fluffy things and drink hot drinks and cuddle loved ones and/or furry animals. It's a lovely island, I adored my first week there... I just wasn't made to live there.

HIlariously, NKS started out of the stress of moving to Guam. Two years and 8 fics later, the place we were renting was no longer within our price range and my hubby and I were forced to move onto base. Under the leader whom I refuse to name, military pay was given a precentage raise... but it was ripped out of bonuses and OCONUS pay. OCONUS is what a military member is paid when they're stationed Outisde the CONtinental United States. This usually means overseas bases like Japan, but it also means Hawaii, aaaaaand... GUAM. So that percentage pay increase for the military at large meant belt-tightening for every service member abroad, and we were forced to move onto base.

In case y'all haven't noticed by now, I'm a raging socialist with some issued with authority. I DO NOT LIKE EXISTING ON BASE. I do not like existing in a place where the national anthem plays twice a day, every day, at 6 AM and then again whenever the hell sundown is that day. And there's an unspoken rule no one tells you that when it plays you're supposed to stop what you're doing, face the nearest set of speakers playing the song, and stare in that direction with your hand over your heart until its over. That, if you're driving, you have to put on your emergency flashers and pull over. No one tells you this. NO ONE TELLS YOU THIS.

And then, before we had secured a place on base but we had set a move out date for the rental house, the Pandemic happened. While we were between homes. The base is talking full lockdown, Guam authorities want to shut down the island but businesses are terrified of not getting the tourist season business, we don't even know if we'll be allowed to move on to base.

Surprise, I stopped writing for a while... but I picked Fallout 4 back up again. I had been forced into the series years earlier by a toxic relationship, but the game itself hadn't been bad-- just the way I'd been forced to play it by someone who was firmly not in my life anymore. When confronted with character creation, I wasn't sure whom I wanted to make... but decided to go back to an old character. A VERY old character, whom I hadn't thought of since I'd finished ME3 at least 4 years prior, and a character I first conceived of when I was 14-ish... which is now about 15 years ago.

Paige.

I've talked before about how well Paige's story maps onto Fo4, but this was before I knew that. I knew the opening, her losing her kid, and that fit with her-- but something clicked while I was playing and the part of my brain that likes to create started wandering off. Soon enough I've got a couple chapters of a ficlet that I'm TOTALLY just writing as a personal one-shot to de-stress, no way I'm publishing this, I don't wanna get distracted from NKS, I got a whole 'nother season to write! Who cares if no one is reading it anymore because South Park Fandom doesn't like continuous plots.... right?

I was burnt out as hell, the move was looming, the Pandemic was getting worse and everything was getting scarier.

Then the news came through that hubby would be deploying again.

He wasn't supposed to, but the Navy decided the safest place for their sailors was the middle of the ocean, so if you WERENT in quarantine you were going on the boat and you were living there. Didn't matter if your spouse would be alone, unpacking a whole home by themselves.

I had a friend on base. We hung out. I met with my DND group on weekends; we all lived on base now, so we could meet up in like five minutes... and then restrictions tightened. You could be fined up to 5 grand for gathering in groups greater than 5, even outdoors, and detained if suspected of going to a home that wasn't yours. I still met 2 of my friends once a week for walks; get outside, be active, talk to other humans, but besides that? I was locked up alone in a new house in a place that I did NOT like existing in.... with a fresh new hyperfixation developing.

I think it was about a week into the new house that I made the new blog. At first I tried to run it side by side with the South Park stuff, but it wasn't long before all my attention was here... aaaand it also wasn't long before I was confronted with a lot of my own despair; of lockdown, of isolation, of watching a broken system crumble and not being able to DO anything about it, and I started to kinda lose my shit. I fuss-- I can't leave things alone, and I couldn't leave this feeling alone; of being fully and entirely helpless and hopeless.

And then I sketched a thing for a friend, and it made them happy. They were having a rough time, too, and I put something together because I couldn't think of anything else. And it helped. It lifted them up, and it lifted me up, too. Someone else had recently reblogged one of those pallet challenges that floats around Tumblr, and I decided FUCK IT LET'S DO THIS THING AND CALL IT SKETCHY SATURDAY!

Little secret, the very first Sketchy Saturday request? Was me. I was so scared no one would noticed the event, I sent myself the very first request, back when the event still took anons. Soon as that first picture was up:

BANG, suddenly four more; some people off anon. I met people that day, talked to them after the very first Sketchy weekend was over, chatted about the games and characters and art and writing and just... felt human for the first time in a really long while.

I figured I'd hold on to Sketchy Saturday until the deployment was over-- once hubby was back, I'd decide whether I was keeping it or not... but he came back, and I was still super into it, and he was supportive, sooooo I kept going! And then we did Sketchy Secret Santa, and people loved it, and my volunteers are excited about being Sketchy Elves and Secret Helpers and just OH MY GOD I DID A THING GUYS. I DID A THING-- that was just me all December and January long lmafo.

AND JANUARY! Because AH HECK, WE MOVING AGAIN! Because hubby finally got orders, and OH MY GOD we're going back to WA... but it's still a move half-way around the globe, and I was SURE I'd have to shut down the event for a month while we got our shit in order and NOPE, because here come the volunteers from Sketchy Secret Santa, and they wanna fill in all month long! Like... I didn't even ask for that shit, guys. They offered it so the event wouldn't have to take a gap.

Jesus I'm getting teary just remembering it.

So yeah. Sketchy Saturday is here because I got really lonely and stressed out while Fallout 4 provided me with some... catharsis for my situation, and then a pandemic happened.

And then y'all happened, and I'm still here. :D

[king-finnigan]

I'm week for historic au stuff. Like Geralt becomes a retired soldier and Jaskier is a scholar type thing and they keep meeting through the ages stuff? Just me? Feel free to ignore me 😖

Actually, I really love that, honestly. I wasn’t sure whether I would write it like a reincarnation AU, or if Geralt would keep living while Jaskier kept getting reincarnated, but I decided that that’s simply too sad. So I went for a Good Omens type thingie! (featuring: enemies to lovers)

Disclaimer: I don’t know anything about history, so there’s a big chance I’m being very very inaccurate!

EDIT: I couldn’t help but make it a little sad at the end, but it’s just bittersweet.

---

They first meet during the Hundred Years’ War, in England.

Jaskier is a monk, transcribing Latin scrolls in the dungeons of the castle for a living. Really, he never wanted to be a monk, but it was the only way for a farmer boy like him to learn how to read and write, something he’d always been fascinated by.

He writes. It’s what he does. No matter how cold it gets in the dungeons during the winter, no matter how much his hand cramps up after a few hours, no matter how many times he has to start over when he makes a mistake. He keeps going, keeps writing. 

It’s what he does.

Autumn, 1438. After a particularly long day, writing down biblical text after biblical text, he’s climbing the stairs of the castle, walking through the long hallways to the monestary. That’s when he sees him for the first time.

The most insufferable person he’ll ever meet.

He’s standing by the door that leads to one of the conference chambers - presumably where the King must be at that moment. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, snow-white hair tied behind his head. Amber eyes look at Jaskier suspiciously as he approaches.

He gives the man a curt nod and a tight smile, sighing when the guard flings an arm out, stopping Jaskier in his tracks. 

The scholar rolls his eyes for a split second, before turning to the guard. “Is there a problem, sir?”

The knight cocks his head. “Who are you?”

The scholar frowns. “I’m Jaskier. I’ve worked here for twelve years. And you are?”

“I ask the questions. What are you doing here so late?”

Jaskier sighs, rolling his eyes. “I was busy transcribing in the dungeons. It gets very hard to tell the time when there are no windows, and I accidentally worked too long. As for why I’m here, specifically, this is the shortest way to the monestary. Now who are you? I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?”

The knight clenches his jaw. “Like I said, you don’t get to ask questions. Now move along before I make you.”

Jaskier scoffs, continuing his way to the monestary. After a few steps, he stops. “You know,” he calls over his shoulder, “monks are well respected here, and I don’t think the King will appreciate it if he finds out one of his guards has been talking to a monk like that. Just something you might want to keep in mind next time.”

He looks back for a second, smirking at the glare the knight gives him, then turns back around, continuing to the monestary. 

***

They continue like that for the next few months, exchanging quips whenever they pass each other in the halls.

The knight asks him what he’s doing in that specific part of the castle, Jaskier tells him it’s none of his business and asks who he thinks he is, the knight says that Jaskier doesn’t get to ask questions, Jaskier threatens to tell the King.

Of course, he doesn’t mean a word of it. After all, it doesn’t really matter if the knight keeps asking him what he’s doing there, and it doesn’t matter that Jaskier never gets to learn his name. It shouldn’t matter, at least.

He’s started asking around for the whereabouts of the King every morning, changing the route he takes to the monestary depending on what the servants say. He’s doing it to make the days less monotone and change things up a little. He does not do it to make sure he passes the knight every evening.

And when the King is called away a few months later to France to lead their army in the war, taking the white-haired knight with him, Jaskier is not disappointed.

And when he has to move away a few years later to a different part of the country when he realizes the hairs on his head aren’t greying and there are no crows’ feet appearing at the corners of his eyes, he does not feel sad that he didn’t get the chance to see the white-haired knight again.

***

Autumn, 1605, Florence. He’s in the city library, picking book after book on the human body from the shelves, the pile in his arms growing ever higher.

197. That’s how old he is, by now, and he still doesn’t know why he’s been blessed - or cursed, depending on which day you ask him - with a long life. He’s fallen in and out of love countless of times, seeing the beauty in every person passing him by, and he’s had his heart broken twice as often. Death, sickness, growing apart - all normal things in life, but when your life is unnaturally long, those things start weighing on you.

So, five years ago, he went to Florence. He’d heard of the impressive library the Italians had collected, and he had decided that, if he wasn’t going to die a natural death, he might as well find out why.

Except he hasn’t, so far. He’s looked through these books countless of times, thumbed through the pages night after night, coming up empty-handed. There aren’t exactly many books on immortality, and the ones that he did find mostly seemed like a bunch of philosophical nonsense - nothing he could use to figure out why he was the way he was, anyways.

So, now, as he piles the same books into his arms as always, he can’t help but feel a little hopeless, and he knows he probably won’t get the answers he needs. Not anytime soon, at least, and not in Florence.

He reaches up, trying to take the last book from a high shelf, but the pile he’s carrying with the other arm wobbles dangerously, and he almost loses his footing.

Suddenly, a strong hand wraps around his upper arm, stabilizing him, another reaching over his head to grab the book for him, putting it on the pile. Jaskier turns around carefully. “Grazie-” his voice catches in his throat, as he meets the amber eyes of a silver-haired man.

“You,” he breathes out, when he recognizes him, seeing recognition in those golden eyes as well. “You’re the knight-”

The man blinks, then frowns. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He turns around, stalking away from Jaskier.

The scholar deposits the pile of books on a nearby table, ignoring the dirty glances the other scholars shoot at him for not putting them back on the shelves, as he hurries out of the library, into the afternoon sunlight.

He looks around, spotting the white-haired man weaving between the people, disappearing into an alley. 

“Hey! Wait!” Jaskier yells, running after the knight. “Wait!”

His chest is heaving by the time he catches up with the man. He grabs the knight by the wrist, forcing him to turn around. “You. I know you, you were in England,” he almost swallows his next words, bringing his voice down to a whisper, “a hundred and fifty years ago.”

The man clenches his jaw again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell you do,” Jaskier hisses back. “I know you recognize me, I know it’s you, and you know it’s me.”

The man looks around, then leans in closer to Jaskier. “Fuck off and leave me be.”

He makes a move to get away, but Jaskier grips his wrist tighter. “No! You haven’t aged a day. Why?”

He startles as the man’s other hand comes up, grabbing him by his throat, pushing him against the wall. “Keep your voice down,” the knight hisses at him, and Jaskier glares at him until he loosens his grip a bit.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m not going to. Now fuck off and leave me be.” He lets go of Jaskier’s neck, stalking through the alley to the city square. 

“Wait!” Jaskier calls behind him. “What’s your name?”

The knight is long gone, disappearing into the crowd.

***

Autumn, 1718, well... wherever, really. Somewhere between Britain and America. He sighs, the slight swaying of the boat making his stomach act up, and he has to swallow a wave of nausea.

He’d heard a lot about America, heard about people finding their luck there in the new cities and large fields. It would be a new chance for Jaskier, another place for him to build a life before having to abandon it after a couple of decades, when his lack of aging starts to grow suspicious to the people around him. 

Well, at least it’ll be something new, after all these years. He’s getting tired of Europe. 

Tomorrow is his 310th birthday, he realizes, though it brings him no joy. It’s been a while since he’s celebrated his birthday, celebrated the end of another year on this cursed planet.

He’s tired, so tired. Of having to scrape together money, day in, day out, year after long year, decade after long decade, before having to take off again, leaving his life and home behind, after twenty or thirty years.

It’s been a while since he’s had any close friends or relationships of any sort. He can’t risk getting close to people he knows he’ll lose, eventually, inevitably, and he can’t risk them finding out his secret. Because they’ll either claim him insane, putting him in an asylum, or he’ll become a shiny new test subject for scientists to poke and prod at. No thank you.

So, off to America, he went. They’re expected to arrive in a week or so, and he’s looking forward to the moment he can get off this blasted ship that’s messing with his stomach so much.

He perks up as he hears a few men shouting on the top deck, and gets to his feet as he hears the loud pangs of gunfire. He reaches for his own weapon, a dagger strapped to his hip. Though, he realizes now - probably too late - that it won’t do much if someone tries to shoot him.

The door slams open, and he takes a step back, holding his meagre dagger in his shaking hand. He nearly drops it, mouth opening in confusion and realization.

“It’s you again!” he shouts, hand clenching around the hilt of his weapon. “Seriously?”

It’s the white-haired knight again, one hand on the doorknob, the other holding a gun. He looks confused and annoyed, amber eyes fixed on Jaskier. 

The scholar lowers his weapon. “You’ve really fallen far, sir. You were a knight three hundred years or so ago, and now you’re” he gestures vaguely with his hand, nose scrunching in confusion “a pirate? I really expected better from you.”

The white-haired man lowers his weapon as well. “Gotta make a living, somehow.” He shrugs. “The world doesn’t need knights anymore.” And, bless all the angels in the heavens above, he smiles. “At least I’m doing something different with my life. It seems like you haven’t evolved past ‘pansy little scholar’.”

Jaskier gasps in mock offense, laying a hand on his chest dramatically. “How dare you? I may be a pansy scholar, but I sure as hell am not little, sir knight.”

The white-haired man chuckles, rolling his eyes a bit. Footsteps barge down the stairs, and the knight turns back to one of his fellow pirates. “Just people, no valuable cargo,” he tells the other man, “let’s get out of here.”

The other pirate looks a bit confused, glancing at Jaskier. “You sure you don’t want to eliminate any witnesses?”

The knight shakes his head. “No, it’s good. He won’t talk, will he?” He looks at the scholar.

Jaskier shakes his head quickly, hands in the air. “No, won’t say a word.”

The other pirate nods, content, heading back upstairs, the knight following closely behind. Jaskier lowers his hands, eyes squeezing shut tightly. “Shite,” he mutters to himself, “I still don’t know his name.”

***

Autumn, 1915. He hadn’t wanted to go back to Europe, but he didn’t want to not serve his country in the war. So, he had gone back to England, and had enlisted to go to the front in Belgium.

The training officers command him for his fighting technique and quick learning skills, and Jaskier has to swallow back a comment about how it’s easy to pick up a thing or two about fighting when you’ve lived for 507 years.

He spots a familiar head of white hair in the trenches, but it disappears behind a cloud of mud and dirt when a shell explodes between them. After that, he can’t find the white-haired man anymore.

***

Autumn, 1941. He’s standing outside when Japanese planes fly over, dropping bombs on the ships in Pearl Harbour. He spots a familiar form with white hair on one of the ships, and he tries to shout to the knight, but he’s blown to the ground by another bomb.

After that, he has to flee. He doesn’t get the chance to search for the white-haired man between the dead, the day after.

***

Autumn, 1945. He’s sitting in a movie theatre, watching the news about the end of the war. They show the celebrations in the major cities, and Jaskier sighs in relief as he spots a broad-shouldered, white-haired man in the crowd in Times Square.

***

Autumn, 1985. He’s dancing at a club in New York, lifting his hands above his head as he lets the music flow through him. It’s always fun to discover new things after being on this mess of a planet for 577 years, really, and the ability to simply lose himself in the deep bass and steady beat of the music seems God-given, at this point.

He’s tired. Tired of the years weighing down on him, tired of not being able to get the rest he so desperately wants, tired of being pushed down by the heaviness of the ages, yet floating through the years, flitting from place to place, not being able to settle down.

It’s become so hard to hide what he is, with the upcoming digitalization and registration of everyone’s date of birth, place of birth, etcetera. He can no longer just move to a different town and call himself a different name and start a new life. It doesn’t work like that anymore, and he knows it’s only a matter of time until he’s found out, until someone realizes he’s not who he says he is.

The worries weigh down on him, so he loses himself in the music.

Someone bumps into him, and he shouts in annoyance as they spill their drink all over him. He turns around, ready to curse out whoever is so stupid enough to do this, but he freezes, mouth open slightly.

“You again?” he breathes out, and before the white-haired man can say anything, Jaskier takes him by his arm, dragging him out of the club, into the side alley. He turns back around, facing the man, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Before you say anything, what is your name?”

The knight- pirate- soldier- man furrows his brow, shaking his head slightly. “Geralt.”

Jaskier throws his hands up in exparation. “Fucking finally! Do you know how hard it is to try to find someone for 500 years when you don’t even know their name?”

Geralt frowns at him. “You’ve been trying to find me?”

Jaskier shakes his head a bit in confusion. “Yes, of course! You’re like me! You don’t age, either, do you?” Geralt shakes his head. “Exactly. I wanna know what the hell is wrong with us so I can finally just die. I’m tired of this planet.”

“I don’t know why we don’t age, though.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Jaskier leans against the wall, head in his hands. After a few moments, he lifts his face up to Geralt, who’s gone to stand in front of him. “I don’t understand. Why can’t we die? And why do we keep running into each other? It’s a small world but not that small, right?”

Geralt shrugs again. “I don’t know. All I know is that I keep seeing that pansy little scholar everywhere I go.” 

Jaskier snorts. “And I keep seeing a thick-headed old man everywhere I go.”

“I’m not old.”

“You’re 500 years old.”

“You’re 500 years old as well, what's your point?”

Jaskier laughs, shaking his head slightly. Geralt smiles back, and something ancient flutters in Jaskier’s chest, which he recognizes as the thing he had felt when he had traded insults with Geralt in the castle hall, when he had seen him again in Florence, when he had been spared on the ship, when he had seen white hair in the heat of the battle, when he had spotted him on Times Square.

He recognizes it as the thing he had felt every time their paths had crossed.

And maybe, for the first time in over 500 years, he realizes what it is. 

Love.

They both lean toward each other at the same time, lips crashing into each other, hands tangling in each other’s hair, noses brushing, breaths intertwining.

And Jaskier can’t get enough of this feeling he always gets when he’s close to Geralt, willingly loses himself in the warmth that spreads through his veins, lifting the heavy years off his tired shoulders, in the fluttering in his stomach that sets his soul alight.

They pull back after a few seconds, foreheads leaning against one another. And maybe, Jaskier realizes, suffering eternity won’t be so bad if he’s got Geralt by his side, this time around.

***

Though, he knows that won’t be necessary, when he discovers his first grey hair, fifteen years later. When he finds his first wrinkle, a few years after that.

When he finally, at last, starts seeing the effects of time appearing on his face. When he sees the lines in his love’s skin.

When their bones start creaking and aching. When their voices grow hoarse and their sight blurry.

And when they drift off to sleep in each other’s arms, sixty-four years after their first kiss, he feels perfectly at peace.

[becasbelt]

Words: 4,874 Fandom: Pitch Perfect (Movies) Rating: T Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell Characters: Chloe Beale, Beca Mitchell Additional Tags: Angst, Pining, Canon Compliant Summary:

Chloe is in love with Beca, and Beca is in love with Chloe. Just… not at the same time.

In which Beca and Chloe can’t seem to figure out their timing.

Dedicated to my loving mother @darby-carter <33

* * *

Falling in love with Beca Mitchell isn’t something that Chloe necessarily expected upon their first meeting, but she can’t say that she’s particularly surprised by it, either. Chloe has always been free with her emotions- something that her mother always says she admires about Chloe.

Although she can’t really know for sure, Chloe likes to think that she generally feels things faster and stronger than most people. When she hates someone, she will go out of her way to avoid them at all costs. When she likes a show on Netflix, she will spend every waking moment watching it and looking up any information she can find on it. When she crushes on someone, they become all-consuming; Chloe thinks of them constantly.

So when a small spark of attraction starts deep in her chest for Beca, Chloe knows that it is only a matter of time before Beca completely takes over Chloe’s world.

And take over Chloe’s world she does, with startling swiftness and terrifying completeness.

Because even if Chloe has been in love before, every kind of love she’s felt in the past pales in comparison to how she feels about Beca.

And sometimes, Chloe thinks that Beca might just love her back.

Beca is a naturally prickly person, Chloe has noticed. Averse to almost any form of physical contact, affection, and intimacy. The emotional side of things isn’t much nicer. Beca hardly answers questions about herself and tends to get her way out of any conversation that seems like it may be heading in a sincere direction. It’s almost impressive how well she does at distancing herself from others, both physically and emotionally.

Maybe that’s part of why Chloe falls for her so hard and so fast; she just aches to make sure that Beca feels loved in some way.

So naturally, Chloe inserts herself into Beca’s life.

And Beca, shockingly enough, doesn’t really seem to mind.

At practices while Aubrey is lecturing Amy about her lack of cardio, Beca will slink away from Stacie’s attempts of showing affections towards her, only to allow Chloe’s arms to circle her middle from behind a moment later. Beca will answer Cynthia-Rose with some sarcastic quip when she asks why Beca is in the Bellas if she hates it so much, yet when it comes up in a late night conversation with Chloe a week later, she seems to have no problem opening up about how her dad will help her move to LA after the year is done if she ‘shows some real effort.’

Chloe seems to be Beca’s exception in almost every aspect of life, which thrills Chloe to no end.

Beca kissing Jesse is unexpected and surprising, to say the least.

Chloe didn’t think that Beca even liked Jesse as a person, let alone liked him as a potential romantic partner.

Watching Beca and Jesse kiss quite literally breaks Chloe’s heart. She cries about it on she and Aubrey’s couch for a solid week until Aubrey tells her that she needs to get over it, because it’s not like she and Beca were even dating or anything.

It was just a crush, Aubrey tells her. She hadn’t even known Beca for all that long, Aubrey says. You’ll be okay, she assures her.

But none of those things feel true to Chloe.

It’s funny, Chloe thinks as she watches the Hallmark channel, bottle of open wine cradled in her lap protectively. It’s funny how discovering that someone you have a crush on likes someone else feels like a breakup, even though you were never even in a relationship to begin with. At the end of the day, the person who broke your heart never technically had any obligation to love you back, because they never knew how you felt in the first place. It is an entirely one-sided heartbreak, which makes it all that much worse.

And since Chloe has always felt emotions more strongly than others, she thinks it’s pretty safe to assume that her heartbreak hurts more than it really should.

* * *

Failing Russian lit isn’t something that Chloe necessarily expected herself to do, but she can’t say that she’s particularly surprised by it, either.

The class was hard, and Chloe knew that she had done poorly on a lot of the tests and assignments in it, so her failing isn’t exactly the most shocking news of the day.

There are both upsides and downsides to Chloe having to stay in school another year.

Positives: Chloe has another year to figure out her life before she has to face the harsh reality that is the real world. Chloe gets to be in the Bellas another year, which is arguably her favorite thing in the world. Chloe gets to stay with Beca for another year.

Actually, the whole ‘staying with Beca’ thing could be a downside as well.

It’s a downside because Beca is dating Jesse, and Chloe is still tragically in love with Beca.

The thing is, Beca justmjust it so easy to be in love with her.

It’s in the little things that Beca does. Like the way she makes mixes for Chloe and gifts them to her with a shrug, telling her it wasn’t a big deal. Like how she looks so adorably grumpy cuddled up with Chloe under a blanket during Bella movie nights. Like how her cheeks flush whenever Chloe kisses her cheek, allowing it with only a small amount of grumbling.

Every single little thing that Beca does is endearing to Chloe, which is as frustrating as it is wonderful, because Beca gives Chloe so many reasons to hope that they could be together someday. It’s in the things she says:

“I’ve never known anyone like you before.”

“You’re the only person I feel like I can trust in this world, Chlo.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

If Beca didn’t have a boyfriend Chloe would swear that Beca felt the same way. If Beca didn’t have a boyfriend, Chloe would have absolutely told her how in love with her she is by now. But the reality is that Beca does have a boyfriend, one which she is very much in love with.

So for now Chloe will just ignore all the different ways that Beca Mitchell can make her heart clench and selfishly hope that Jesse and Beca won’t work out in the end somehow.

* * *

Chloe is still selfishly letting herself hope three years later, with no end in sight.

Emily asks them if they’re dating one day over lunch, causing Beca to almost choke on her food. Chloe pats Beca’s back as she tries to fight the blush blooming on her cheeks, avoiding sweet, innocent Emily’s curious gaze.

“What?” Beca squeaks out as soon as her airways are clear again.

Emily blushes deeply. “I was just wondering if you guys are dating, because you’re always holding hands and sharing a bed and saying ‘I love you’ and you just seem to know each other really well.”

Beca laughs as if the idea is absurd, and Chloe ignores the slight pang of hurt that it sends to her chest. “Oh wow, no. We are definitely not dating, Chloe’s just super affectionate.”

She’s still laughing as she says it, as if it’s the funniest thing in the world, which makes Chloe feel slightly offended. “You make it sound like dating me is the worst thing that could ever happen,” Chloe says coolly, raising an eyebrow at Beca.

It’s almost comical actually, the way both Emily’s and Beca’s eyes widen in response to that.

“No no no, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” Beca rushes out. “I just don’t think we’d never date.”

Chloe’s pushes down the tears suddenly threatening her eyes. “And why not? You don’t think we’d be good together?”

Beca shakes her head and laughs in astonishment. “Jesus, dude, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“That’s what I’m hearing.”

“Why are you pushing this so hard?”

Chloe shrugs in an attempt to act indifferent. “I just want to know why you wouldn’t date me.”

“Because you’re my best friend and I don’t think I could ever like you like that.”

Silence follows Beca’s statement, filling the kitchen with tense energy. Emily looks between Beca and Chloe nervously while they stare at each other. And as much as Chloe is hurt by Beca’s words, by her claim that she could never see Chloe as more than a friend, she still can’t help the way that her eyes drift down to Beca’s lips.

“Thank you for the clarification,” Chloe says quietly before forcing her eyes away from Beca’s face. She stands from the table and moves to set her plate in the sink, excusing herself from the kitchen without another word.

Beca doesn’t come after her.

* * *

Somehow Chloe ends up moving to New York with Beca.

Well, Beca and Fat Amy, that is.

Chloe never expected to move to New York, but she can’t say that she really minds it all that much. It’s vibrant and exciting, full of people and possibilities; exactly Chloe’s type of scene.

Except, Chloe usually spends the night in with Beca instead of experiencing all that New York has to offer.

Beca, who is recently single for the first time in nearly four years.

Beca, who came out to Chloe a couple months ago over an intimate dinner at a nice restaurant.

Beca, who will never see Chloe as anything more than her best friend.

And Chloe, being the hopeless, stupid romantic that she is, still can’t help but feel a tiny bit of hope that something will change between them. The hope is small, nearly completely put out at this point, which is exactly how Chloe likes it. Being in love with Beca at this point is more like embers in a fire bit rather than a raging inferno: still there, still warm, just not quite as intense.

Although, some nights those embers spark into a small flame, and those nights are usually aided by alcohol.

Tonight is one of those nights.

And Chloe honestly really hates herself, and hates Beca, and hates emotions, and doesn’t understand what the point of anything is anymore.

But damn if Beca still isn’t just as breathtaking today as she was when Chloe saw her at that activities fair five years go.

Beca is talking about… something. Chloe honestly isn’t sure what she’s going on about, because she’s had nearly a full bottle of wine and it’s making her head fuzzy and right now Chloe is positive that Beca has never looked so good in all the years they’ve known each other, even if she is only wearing sweatpants and an old Barden t-shirt.

“And like, I asked him if he was happy with that take, and he just shrugged so I was like ‘do you want to run it again?’ and he shrugged again, which really made me want to shove his fucking sunglasses down his throat.”

“He’s stupid,” Chloe says distractedly, though she doesn’t know who Beca is even talking about at this point. She’s too busy admiring the earrings lining Beca’s ears, and the curve of her neck so perfectly on display thanks to how Beca's hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and the shape of her lips and how kissable they look.

Chloe was sitting on the other end of the couch from Beca. She knows she was because she purposefully sat on the other end at the beginning of the evening to keep herself from reaching out a touching Beca impulsively.

So Chloe was sitting on the other end of the couch, but she is definitely not sitting on the other end when she pulls Beca in for a kiss by the back of her neck.

As soon as Chloe realizes what she’s done, she is immediately mortified with herself and starts to pull away. Hands coming up to cup her face halt her retreat, however, and a mix of confusion and elation overcomes her when Beca starts kissing Chloe back.

Their kisses become increasingly more frantic the longer they last, Chloe eventually pushing Beca back against the couch cushions to lay on the top of her. Chloe isn’t sure how long this dream that she’s in is going to last, so she figures she might as well enjoy it for as long as possible.

Chloe deepens the kiss, tongue pushing its way past Beca’s lips as Beca groans beneath her. Beca’s hands tighten in Chloe’s hair, not necessarily pulling or pushing in any way; just holding as if Beca is trying to anchor herself. Chloe knows that she’ll have to pull back for air soon, but she’s scared that as soon as they stop the dream will be shattered, so she tells her lungs to suck it up and pushes her lips harder against Beca’s.

Beca is the one to pull back, her head pressing against the cushions beneath her to gain some distance between Chloe’s lips and her own, chest heaving as she tries to steady her breathing. Chloe is panting too, but instead of taking the time to breathe probably she begins pressing lights kisses to Beca’s neck, unwilling to part from Beca quite yet.

Beca’s breathing starts to even out and she lets out little sighs of contentment at Chloe’s ministrations, hands stroking softly through Chloe’s hair. Eventually Chloe’s lips stop moving and she relaxes her body fully on top of Beca’s, enjoying the closeness as she buries her face into the crook of Beca’s neck.

The hands in Chloe’s hair move until they’re running lightly over her back instead and Chloe resists the urge to shiver. She remains quiet, not wanting to shatter the calm that surrounds them. Beca says no words either, and that is the way they remain, tangled up on their shitty couch in their shitty New York apartment until they fall asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Chloe wakes up still entangled with Beca. Beca is still asleep – which doesn’t surprise Chloe, she’s always been the earlier riser between the two of them – so Chloe carefully climbs off Beca and makes her way to the kitchen to make some coffee.

Beca wakes up with a grunt just as the coffee finishes brewing, and Chloe smiles a little at the familiar action as she pours coffee into two mugs, settling down in one of the chairs at their tiny kitchen table.

“Morning, Bec,” Chloe says once Beca is sitting up and looking a little more alive.

Beca grunts again in response and shuffles over to the table, plopping herself down across from Chloe and reaching for the second mug of coffee. She takes a generous sip and curses when it burns her tongue, and Chloe can’t help but chuckle in response.

It’s a few minutes later when Beca is finally awake enough to form actual sentences, and what she says makes Chloe choke on hot coffee.

“So what was last night about?”

Chloe coughs as she tries to clear the liquid from her throat. Beca winces in sympathy. Chloe uses the choking as an excuse to find her words, because she honestly had not expected Beca to confront her about their impromptu make out session.

“Um, I don’t know,” Chloe says hesitantly after a minute. “I was just drunk, I guess.”

It’s a lame excuse. A terrible excuse, in fact.

“Oh,” is all Beca says.

“What about you?” Chloe questions, turning the question on Beca. “You kissed me back.”

Beca shrugs and avoids eye contact with Chloe. “I’m not sure. Like you said, we were drunk.”

Disappointment fills Chloe as Beca opts for the easy cop-out as well. “Right,” she says, looking down at her coffee. “Just a drunken mistake. Nothing more than that.”

And in that moment, Chloe feels those burning embers within her completely die out for good.

* * * * * *

Falling in love with Chloe Beale isn’t something that Beca expected upon their first kiss, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised.

Because Chloe has been Beca’s best friend ever since her first year at Barden, even if she tried to downplay just how close they were a lot of the time. She didn’t want to say that she saw Chloe as a sister, because there would be a lot to unpack there if that were the case, but Beca definitely never thought of Chloe in a romantic sort of way at all.

Sure, Chloe was kind and thoughtful and always knew just how to make Beca’s day better. She was always there when Beca needed someone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on, or just a good hug because she’d had a shitty day. And Chloe really did give the best hugs, and Beca always felt so at home in her arms, especially when they were cuddled up together after falling asleep while working on Bellas stuff or homework or just talking until they could barely keep their eyes open. Plus, Chloe has always just understood Beca in a way that nobody else ever has…

Shit. Had Beca been in love with Chloe the whole time?

The realization that Beca had possibly been in love with Chloe for years causes Beca to pull away from the kiss that had grown decidedly more heated than any friendly kiss should ever grow. Her chest heaves as she struggles to catch her breath, both overwhelmed with the passion of the kiss and the way her thoughts have attacked her in such a sudden onslaught. Chloe moves to kiss her neck, seemingly undeterred by Beca’s withdrawal, and Beca is torn for a moment between pushing her away and pulling her closer before ultimately deciding to do neither.

Beca remains silent – save for the involuntary whimpers and sighs that escape her due to Chloe’s lips moving against her body – as she processes her new emotions. Eventually Chloe stops her ministrations and settles her weight against Beca, and Beca waits for the inevitable moment that Chloe pulls away and makes them talk about what just happened.

Except, that moment never comes. Chloe only burrows herself deeper into Beca, apparently content to remain silent for the remainder of the night.

Which she does- which they both do, actually. Chloe falls asleep soon after, leaving Beca to stare at the ceiling in the dark of their apartment and wonder how her heart is still beating so fast in her chest.

* * *

Beca holds off her curiosity about the whole thing the next morning for as long as she can, but ultimately ends up caving only about half an hour after waking up.

“So… what was last night about?” Beca attempts to sound casual, but is painfully aware of how much she’s failing.

She asks the question right as coffee goes down the wrong pipe in Chloe’s throat, causing her to start coughing for a few moments. Beca winces and internally curses her poor timing.

“Um, I don’t know,” Chloe says once she can speak again. “I was just drunk, I guess.”

Beca’s heart sinks. Of course it was because they were drunk, why else would Chloe have kissed her?

“Oh,” Beca says lamely.

“What about you?” Chloe asks suddenly, glancing at Beca. “You kissed me back.”

Panic fills Beca at the question, so she tries for an indifferent shrug and stares into her coffee. “I’m not sure. Like you said, we were drunk.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Beca thinks that Chloe’s shoulders might slump a little. “Right,” she says softly. “Just a drunken mistake. Nothing more than that.”

Beca looks back up at Chloe only to see that Chloe’s eyes are directed down towards her drink. The sun shining in through their apartment's sole window shines over Chloe, bathing her in golden light. Beca’s heart pounds painfully in her chest at the sight and fuck- right there in that moment she feels herself fall hard.

* * *

Being in love with your best friend is difficult, Beca has decided. On top of that, being in love with your best friend and living with them and sharing a bed made it all that much worse. Beca wouldn’t ever wish it upon her worst enemy.

Beca wishes things could go back to the way they were before, when neither of them were secretly in love with the other, and when Beca’s heart didn’t feel like it would burst out of her chest when Chloe came home from work in the evenings, and when Beca felt like she could tell her best friend anything.

Beca wishes she wasn’t in love with Chloe.

But the thing is, Chloe makes it so easy to be in love with her.

It’s in the little things that Chloe does. Like the way she always makes coffee for Beca in the morning, even though Beca has two perfectly good hands and could make it herself. Like how she’s always willing to give Beca a back massage after a long day of Beca hunched over a soundboard or computer for work. Like the way she doesn’t seem to mind Beca’s frequent awkwardness in most aspects of life, telling Beca that it’s ‘endearing’ to her.

Which Beca thinks is unfair because every single little thing that Chloe does is endearing to Beca. Chloe makes Beca feel like the most loved person in the world without trying. It’s the way she says things like:

“You’re my favorite person in the world.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life, Bec.”

“I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Beca has never had someone that is such a stable in her life like Chloe is. Beca never has to worry about if Chloe has her back, or if she can trust her, or if she’s someone Beca can count on because Chloe has done nothing but be dependable in the six years they’ve known each other.

And while Beca would like to tell Chloe how she feels about her, she can’t. She can’t tell Chloe and risk losing the singular best thing that she has ever had in her life.

* * *

Beca doesn’t know who this Chicago guy is, but she does know that she hates him.

She doesn’t know why exactly she hates him- actually, no, scratch that because Beca actually has many reasons why she hates him. At the very of top of that list is the way Chloe can’t seem to get enough of him.

From the very first moment Chicago stepped into view and introduced himself, he had Chloe following him around like a little puppy. Beca had tried to keep up with them at first, trailing uselessly along Chloe’s side, attempting to jump into their conversation every now and then, but ultimately decided that it was no use.

Chloe was hooked on this guy, which meant that Beca’s presence when she was around him was obsolete.

Beca didn’t like it.

For years now, Beca has been used to being Chloe’s favorite person in any given situation. She’s gotten used to (and fond of) the way Chloe clings onto her in some sort of way when they’re together- holding her hand, looping their arms together, hugging her waist from behind. Except now Chicago is the one on the receiving end of Chloe’s physical affections. Chloe is always pushing his shoulder playfully, or brushing a hand down his arm, tugging on his hand; any excuse to just touch him, it seems.

Beca feels colder than she has in a long time without Chloe’s presence near her.

And Beca has never been one for physical affection. Physical touch is decidedly not one of her love languages. Beca has always been more of a quality time type of person, where no contact or words are necessarily needed for her to feel close to someone, but now that Chloe has stopped directing all her touchiness towards Beca, she realizes just how much she craves that connection with Chloe.

Throughout the course of the entire USO tour, Beca begins to feel like Chloe is pulling away from them- whatever them is. Beca has never felt so much distance between them, both physically and emotionally. The whole situation is rapidly spiraling out of Beca’s control and she has no idea what to do about it.

So Beca decides that she’s going to tell Chloe how she feels. She’s already losing Chloe as it is, so she might as well say fuck it and go all out.

Beca dedicates her final performance to Chloe, even if she never actually tells anyone she’s doing so. She thinks she makes it pretty obvious, though, what with the way she doesn’t take her eyes off of Chloe for the entire first half of the performance before inviting the rest of the Bellas onstage. Their eyes connect and Beca smiles from the stage, thinking that maybe there is a chance that Chloe feels the same way.

When all the Bellas rush to hug her at the end of their performance, Chloe the first one to do so, Beca has to resist the urge to kiss her right there onstage in front of everyone. Beca doesn’t want to rush this, she wants to do it right.

As soon as Beca is able to break away from all the ‘important’ people she needs to talk to afterwards, she starts rushing around to find Chloe. Her thoughts start spinning in her head as she tries to figure out what exactly she’s going to say.

You’re the greatest thing in my life.

I’ve never wanted to be with someone as much as I want to be with you.

I love you, Chloe. I love you I love you I-

Beca finds Chloe.

Chloe is kissing Chicago, looking happier than Beca has ever seen her before.

Suddenly Beca understands exactly what people mean when they say their heart has been broken.

Because she feels it happening to her right now.

* * *

The silence between Beca and Chloe in the car is uncomfortable, which is how all their silences have been since returning home from the USO tour.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, having uncomfortable silences with Chloe. Pretty much since the first time they hung out, they have always been comfortable around each other. Part of that is because Chloe is a natural at interacting with people and makes conversation easily, but even when they weren’t even talking things were always easy with them.

The silence between them now feels like it’s trying to choke Beca.

Arriving at the airport feels almost like a blessing to Beca, because it means that they don’t have to endure the tension any longer, but it is also most definitely a curse as well.

Because arriving at the airport means that Beca is leaving for LA soon. It means that she is leaving Chloe soon.

They walk through the airport until they get to security, making small talk along the way. Beca stays mostly quiet, though, internally debating with herself the entire way. Because she is quite literally running out of time and now is her last chance to tell Chloe how she feels, but she knows that Chloe is with Chicago now and it would be unfair to dump all of her feelings on Chloe before she jets off to the other side of the country.

And Beca is afraid. Afraid of losing Chloe, afraid of telling Chloe how she feels, afraid of never telling Chloe how she feels.

But Beca figures it’s now or never.

“I have to ask, Chloe. Did you… do you think we ever could have been something together? Something more than friends, I mean,” Beca says quietly, uncertainly. She swallows before adding, “Do you think we could have loved each other?”

Chloe smiles softly and gently laces her fingers with Beca’s. She leans forward and brushes a kiss against Beca’s cheek, and Beca’s eyes instinctively close at the feeling. “Beca, I think you I both know that we loved each other. We just… never seemed to get the timing right is all.”

Beca’s breath hitches at the words. Chloe smile turns a little sad and she squeezes Beca’s fingers once before letting go.

The speakers above them inform Beca that her flight is ready to board, so Beca grips her suitcase handle and prepares herself to walk away.

“I love you,” Beca tells Chloe before she can lose the nerve. “I think I’ll always love you.”

Some expression flashes on Chloe’s face – regret, sadness, clarity, maybe – but it passes too quickly for Beca to tell exactly what it is. “And I think a part of me will always love you, Bec.”

And somehow that’s all they say before Beca is turning around and walking through the gate of her flight, all of her senses feeling completely numb. She wills herself to turn back and rush towards Chloe; to kiss her, to tell her that she can’t go to LA, to tell her that she can’t live without Chloe in her life. She wills Chloe to call out to her and tell her to stay, tell her that she loves her, to give Beca a reason to stay.

Beca doesn’t turn back, and Chloe doesn’t call out.

And maybe that is the most unexpected thing of all.

[emyume]

Eremika ♡  {Titanic AU + headcanons}

(Hi everyone! I decided to make something special for my birthday, which was on the 30th, but I couldn’t finish it until just now. So, this is kinda like a late birthday present to myself, and a new years gift to all my fellow eremika fans. This is my first time ever making something like this, so please bear with me if it’s kinda long, and I hope everyone has an amazing new year! ✿ ◡ ‿◡ )

The first time he ever sees Mikasa, he's hanging out with his friends on the 3rd class deck. As he looks up, he notices her walk towards the railing. With the sunlight scanning down her body, a cool ocean breeze gently waves her short hair and her delicately sewn dress side-to-side. Resting her hands on the railing as she watches the horizon. 

He slowly freezes in her presence; leaving him breathless. Asking himself whether or not he had just seen an angel due to how bright and iridescent the evening sun was, as it shined down on her. Like a fallen angeeeeelllll / *cough* red swan is best op *cough* 

It takes a while for him to notice that she had been giving him some hardcore death glares as if to say, "You know, I can see you staring right at me, you better not make me come down there!" (¯―¯٥) she ready to throw some hands xD

He always sits in the exact same spot at the exact same time on the boat deck where he first saw Mikasa, always looking forward to seeing her again, and again.

Armin and Jean constantly make fun of him anytime he stares at her or whenever his head is in the clouds. They always wave their arms, snap their fingers in front of him, or even try to say a few things to catch his attention such as, "Yoooo, lover boy!", or "If you're lucky you'll probably get married someday...if she's into guys like you, that is." Forcing him to snap back to reality.

they both notice him start to blush, his face glowing in a deep crimson red starting at his cheeks to the tips of his ears, all while he's trying to cover his face up with his arm. we love our blushy boi ٩(♡ε♡ )۶

On the night when she almost jumps off the ship, Eren notices her sobbing loudly with tears falling down her face as she scampers past him - sensing that something is wrong, he immediately gets to her aid. Being very patient, he convinces her not to jump and to get back on the ship. He reaches his arms out and offers her to take his hand. She finally surrenders, and they exchange their names with reassuring smiles. "I'm Eren Jaeger", she then replies a bit hesitantly, "M-Mikasa Ackerman".

The next morning, Mikasa looks for him down in the 3rd class steerage (even though it’s forbidden, she still goes anyway), finally getting the chance to thank him for saving her life. As they're both getting to know each other, she utters out how trapped she feels. Staying inside a world she can't escape. Being forced into an arranged marriage simply for money, not having any dreams of her own, all of it makes her feel completely powerless, and makes him fill up with remorse, feeling sympathetic towards her situation.

she’s always been desperate to do something different and out of the norm, without ever having to be judged for it. She can’t help but feel jealous whenever he talks about his travels and the places he's seen. Although he was poor, he was free. That in itself was something she couldn't attain so easily.

There's actually a deleted scene in the movie that I really love, where Jack and Rose are singing a song called, "Come Josephine In My Flying Machine". I could definitely see the two of them singing this together as they walk around the boat deck, happily swaying side-by-side.

Once Eren finds the courage in himself to confess his true feelings towards her, Mikasa tells him that it’s impossible for her to keep seeing him. He keeps on telling her that she’s gonna die if she doesn’t break free and wants to help her live. But she turns him down.

It takes her a while, but Mikasa reconsiders her choice and decides that she should go with Eren in the end. She finds him at the bow of the ship with slumped shoulders, as his body leans against the railing, looking down at the waves below, having a look of hopelessness in his eyes. 

He turns around as she walks up to him, she lets out a sigh of relief and finally declares her decision,“...I’ve changed my mind...” Feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders, Eren gives her a sweet radiant smile, grinning from ear-to-ear. 

He takes her hands into his own, asking her to close her eyes and to carefully step up to the railing, never letting go. When she finally opens them, she witnesses an ombré sky filled with hues of dark purples, light pinks, and bright yellows. It was the most beautiful sunset she had ever seen. With the wind flowing beneath their arms and holding on to each other’s bodies, their fingers interlock together as he brings their arms down, and wraps them around her waist. Both watching the sun go down the horizon...the very last sunset they’ll ever get to see...

Resting his head on her shoulder, their faces start inching closer and closer towards each other. Mikasa turns her head a little, looking deeply in to his green eyes, their lips just inches away from coming into contact. Making the first move, he leans in gently and softly presses his lips against hers; making her heart jump against her chest. She lets go of his hand and reaches for his face. She grasps the back of his head, caressing and curling his hair tenderly with her fingers - pulling him deeper and deeper. She continues to press him close to her face, making sure he never pulls away from her. *insert My Heart Will Go On here*    ( ;__; )♡

The next following days, Eren would probably send some cute love letters to her, but obviously in secret. He would sneak himself into 1st class and try not to get himself caught by any of the officers. They also would probably go on dates where they just talk about their dreams about riding on horseback and traveling across the ocean in an airplane, while lying under the stars.

On the night of the sinking, she promises herself that she won’t get off the ship without him. Leaving her family behind, she stays on the ship gripping on to Eren for dear life, all the way till the very end.

Once they’re in the cold waters of the Atlantic, they find a door frame floating nearby that had been broken off from the ship. They both try to get on it, but they make it sink into the water. Realizing that it’s not big enough for the both of them, he tells to get on it instead. Desperately waiting for a rescue boat to come and find them.

The cries of the people around them slowly die down, the temperature finally beginning to take its toll on Eren’s numb body, losing his consciousness little by little. Fighting to stay alive, he keeps on withstanding the pain of it all, just to keep his head above the water. 

Trembling from hypothermia, he holds on to Mikasa’s frail hands, both breathing heavily, she quietly murmurs, “I love you, Eren.” Hearing those words escape her chapped lips, he faces her - his voice shaking uncontrollably, “Don’t you do that...don’t you say your goodbyes - not yet, do you understand me? Listen to m-me, Mikasa - you’re gonna get outta here...you’re gonna go on, and have a life of your own, and...you’re gonna live long life - and you’re gonna watch your children grow. Winning that ticket was the best thing, that ever happened to me...it brought me to you. You must p-promise me, that you’ll survive. That you won’t give up...n-no matter what happens...no matter, how hopeless. Promise me now, Mikasa...and never let go of that promise.”

Several moments go by, she feels her body steadily shutting down, practically upon death’s door, lying ever so still above the frozen waters. She notices a faint golden light flashing up and down out of the corner of her eye. She tries to shake Eren awake and tell him that there’s a boat floating nearby, but, no matter how hard she tried, his eyes remained shut tight, as ice slowly formed on top of his lashes. Mikasa freezes instantly...she can feel her heart sink in her chest, a sense of dread starts to crawl up her body...beginning to fear the worst, she rapidly grabs his arms and presses her fingers down and searches for his pulse. But alas, the only thing she could find was the sound of her own dying breath. 

When the truth settles in on her, she tries to yell at the lifeboat to come back, but the cold made her voice sound so fragile and hoarse, there was no way that they could ever hear her, let alone grab it’s full attention. Her mouth quivers as tears flow down to her lips, her voice starts to crack as she cries out in desperation. She lays her head down atop his hands, wanting to stay by his side and cry herself to sleep. 

Almost accepting defeat, she remembers the promise that she swore to him. The promise for her to keep on living. To live a life just the way her and Eren had always pictured in their minds. A life where they could do anything they wanted to their full heart’s content.

Mikasa refuses to give up hope and to let him die in vain. She kisses his hands lovingly, before finally letting him go. Her vision starts to blur more and more from her tears as she watches the ocean drag him further down in to the dark abyss. She slides herself off the door frame, falling in to the freezing water. Beating against the cold waves that try to engulf her, she snatches a whistle that had belonged to an officer of the ship, his body frozen in place. Placing the whistle between her lips, a high pitched sound pierces through the still, quiet night. Whistling louder and louder as she tries to grab the attention of the lifeboat.

Mikasa’s eyes flutter open and finds herself wrapped in all sorts of frayed and warm blankets. All the remaining survivors in the lifeboats head towards a nearby ship called, Carpathia. The ship would follow in the same route that the Titanic was also suppose to go, finishing it’s course as it arrives in New York. 

Day turns to night while the clouds turn to a dark grey. She remains unbothered as the rain falls down on top of her, reminiscing about her past while glancing up towards the symbol of freedom; standing tall and proud.

A steward of the ship calmly approaches her, holding a clipboard and pencil on one hand and holding his umbrella on the other, as he had been writing down all the names of the surviving passengers.

He politely asks her, “Can I take you name please, love?" She moves her head down and faces him, replying without hesitation, she says her name. “Jaeger...Mikasa Jaeger.”

(here's a little bonus eremika edit ♡)

[ourwannabewriter]

BNHA Hogwarts AU [ imagine where Deku first develops feelings for you! ]

|| Gryffindor Izuku x Reader ||

Deku was a Squib, as he failed to produce or show any signs of magical abilities, much to the sadness of his mother.

Of course, All Might somehow manages to pass on his magical abilities onto Deku.

"Yer a Wizard, Deku!"

Thus, Deku successfully manages to be enrolled into Hogwarts, recieving his letter just in time.

It's at Platform 9 and ¾ where he first meets Ochacho, who wingardium leviosa's his ass to stop him and all of his luggage from falling.

"I used a spell on you, I hope you don't mind!"

"N-No! Of course not!"

Once he boards the train, he eventually comes across Ochaco sitting in one of the many cabins.

"Oh! You're the boy from earlier! Come and sit with us!"

"This is Iida Tenya and (Y/n) (L/n)!" She says cheerfully, gesturing to both of you as she dutifully introduces her new friends.

"It's nice to meet you!" You tell him, grinning from ear to ear.

Deku can't help but notice how cute you are in that very moment, perhaps it's then that he slowly begins to develop feelings, but it's not until after he gets sorted into Gryffindor and gets bullied by Bakugou for it that he falls hard.

"How the fuck did a squib like you get into the same house as me, huh?!"

Naturally, you step up to defend your newfound friend.

If you're in either Slytherin or Ravenclaw:

"Squib? Are you really going so far as to insult our school by suggesting that they're sending squibs invitations now? Pfft. You really do prove that empty vessels make the most sound. Oof And to think you're going so far as to stoop so low ― resorting to bullying someone of your own? You sure have a lot of nerve, it's too bad you lack Gryffindor's better qualities."

...Or Gryffindor or Hufflepuff:

"Deku's not a squib! He's clearly in the same school as you, wearing the same robes of red. The reason he received a letter in the first place is because the school recognized that he had magical abilities! Whether you recognize that or not is entirely up to you, but you should at least show common decency to someone in the same House as you! How can you even think of mistreating someone belonging to your own House?!"

Of course, this doesn't sway Bakugou in the slightest.

"Tch. I'll never accept that wimp as a Gryffindor!"

"Then you're not fit to wear those robes."oof 2x

Deku finds himself admiring you and your courage to defend him, and thanks you profusely for it. "Thanks for that, (Y/n)...but why wou-"

"Shhh. You're my friend, and I'll fight anyone that dares to even think of hurting my friends."

Deku mistakes it for admiration at first, but nope. It's love. Hopeless, puppy-eyed love.

He adores you. Everything about you, from the way your eyes light up whenever you're passionately talking about something, or how you actually stop and listen to him and his over analysis on new Quiddtich strategies, and how you validate his feelings and don't make fun of him for it all the time.

So yeah, he notices almost everything about you.

He could go on and on about you, honestly.

...He doesn't actually manage to gather the courage to confess to you until you're halfway through or in your final year together at Hogwarts, though.

And the only reason he confesses is because he just couldn't keep it in anymore.

And so he blurted it out. All of it.

Not to you, of course ― it was meant for someone else's ears.

...And you just so happened to overhear it.

"Me?! But all this time I thought you liked Ochaco!"

"N-No! It's always been you, (Y/n) ― since the very start!"

"WELL YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING EARLIER ABOUT IT YOU KNOW! GOD DAMN IT, DEKU!"

Deku looks forlorn for a moment, all until you walk up to him and gently clasp his hands in yours.

"...But, the truth is, it's always been you, too."

Deku looked shell-shocked. Had he heard you right? It was impossible! How could you like someone like him?

His mind was overthinking everything, failing to process what you had actually said ― he just couldn't believe it.

Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his, and his thoughts went silent.

"And it'll always be you."

•••

This is the first time I'm doing something like this. I hope you enjoyed it! <3 nobody asked for it, but here you go!

[hilarioustextposts]

Hey Abby, sorry to message u with some bummer stuff. You've just got this ~older sister energy~ and I really need some of that right now. Lately I've been feeling very hopeless. I'm not sure if it's because I'm graduating college in a few months and have no plans, or because I feel like I'm not good at anything and therefore nothing good will happen, or if it's because it seems like my boyfriend doesn't even like me anymore. I know you recently graduated college so you probably have been (1/2)

(2/2) through something similar. I was just wondering what you did to cope, how you kept your hope up, what you did when it was down, and looking back how you're doing now. I know it's not your responsibility to make me feel better but I really appreciate your time. Thank u and I hope you're doing really well :-)

Answer below the cut because it is a long one (like a looooooonnnggg one)

Hey anon! Thanks for writing in, I am always happy to get messages and I’m always flattered that people would think to reach out to me. I definitely don’t think reaching out for some kind words, or advice, or even just a sympathetic ear is putting responsibility on someone else to make you feel better. You deserve to have those things! And it sounds like you have a lot going on in your life right now that’s scary and disheartening. I want to mention the boyfriend thing first (because honestly its the thing that is most out of my depth). First I’m sorry you’re feeling that way. I think I would wonder if you have any thing specific that is making you feel this way, if something happened, and how you want to address it with him. Overall, I’m a big proponent of talking things out because at least then you know where you are. Hopefully there’s been some sort of misunderstanding and you work through this. 

In terms of the graduating college side of things, I can absolutely empathize with how you’re feeling. I’m not sure how uplifting my perspective on this is, because to be quite frank, this year since I graduated my undergrad and started my masters, has been by far the hardest of my life. Honestly though what has been most comforting through it all is the fact that every single person I know is going through those same feelings.Some of my friends are trying to get jobs or figure out if they should go back to school, others are traveling, others have jobs, some have moved home for the first time in years, some (like me) are living in a new city. For me, I didn’t have to tackle not having plans since I’m staying in school for a while longer, but I have felt super disconnected from my support system and overall pretty unhappy. But knowing these feelings are normal and shared by the people I care about has helped me feel less alone.

You are not not good at anything. Just because you don’t have plans now or know what is coming next, doesn’t mean things are hopeless. It’s hard. And I can’t promise that will change right away, but I truly believe that things happen how they are meant to. This period of confusion is something that you’re going through so that better things can come after because part of the beauty of uncertainty is that anything could come next. Good things are in the future! Not to be That Bitch but Taylor Swift was right when she said it’s miserable and magical in 22. 

I also think it has been good for me in some ways because it has helped me take stock of how lucky I am and how I am prioritizing things in my life. Seeing the people I love is what has been making me feel the best, so I’ve allowed myself to dedicate more time and energy to making that happen than to forcing myself to give 100% to my schoolwork. If its a choice between seeing friends or getting a few points higher on the assignment, I make sure to choose my friends because we need each other right now and it fulfills me. I also am just trying to divert my attention to uplifting things. I’m really trying to get back into reading more because I haven’t been great about it in recent years but I love it. When it’s really rough, I let people important to me know I’m feeling off. Honestly, I had a bad day yesterday where I was really missing my social group and comparing it to where I am now so I called my mom and explained everything and just let her remind me that it’s fine to not be feeling my best but it will pass. 

In terms of keeping hope up I try to think of what I have in the future that I am looking forward to. For me, I’m (scared but also) excited to be going to law school in a new city in a new province next year. But also there are non-goal things to be excited for too, last week I got to see one of my friend for the first time in 5 months and that was like the light shining at the end of a hard week. Taking note of the small joys makes me feel like not everything is so gloomy. 

I know this isn’t a 100% uplifting response. But I am very hopeful that these feelings are a temporary state of being that we will both make it through. I am genuinely happy to talk whenever, whether that be over anon or messages. Sometimes misery truly does love company and having someone understand can be enough to make things a bit easier. Regardless, I am sending you all the best and my love because these things are not easy, and you’re very strong to be going through it right now.

[rogerina-yee-haw]

"at least I'm one"

chapter 4: "- the pain and eternal bliss”

sd!gwilym lee x reader

[the goodbye] [the sadness & tenderness] [the broken rules and true affection]

summary: you and gwil met ten months ago; and he offered you to be his sugar baby almost immediately. you agreed at that exact moment, not knowing where it would get you.

warnings: mentions of physical and emotional abuse, sexual assault, angst;  MAJOR fluff, typos 

a/n: Get ready lmao there are two more chapters left

you’ll probably be confused at first. but (almost) everything is explained in the chapter!! if I don’t explain something here, chapter 5 will do it

the reader’s smoking?? nope, she doesn’t. at least not on the regular basis lol

also this was supposed to be chapter 5 but I couldn’t work the content for chapter 4 properly so I mixed them hehe

thanks to @emmasunshiine for the idea <3

“Still smoking, eh?”

You freeze where you stand, with a cigarette between your fingers. The wind blows your hair and the cigarette smoke as you slowly look in his direction. You know this voice like the back of your hand. You know this man better than anyone.

“The fuck?” you breathe out, your gaze fixed on him. He hasn’t changed; only grew his hair a bit longer. He still has this ugly mustache, wears 90s-styled shirts and jeans that are so tight that you can see the outline of his penis. He still goes commando, nothing fucking changes.

“Happy to see you too, kitten”, you wince at the pet name; it makes you feel as if a little sword is poking through your heart. Makes you feel like you have to come through all of this shit again.

“Walk away, Luke”, you curse under your breath, taking another cigarette from the pack; Luke’s the one to make you start smoking. He gave you too many bad habits.

“You’ve got quite a tongue”, Luke chuckles and comes a bit forward to you, “since when?”

“Piss off”, you mutter as you take another drag of the cigarette.

“Nice diamond necklace you have here. Got yourself a sugar daddy?”

You shiver at his last words. How would he even know? You brows knit as you look at him and take another long drag of the cigarette.

“Seen you with that guy over there”, Luke points at Gwil through the pub window. “He looks alright. Not your type though. You need someone else to take care of you”.

“I love how you know what and whom I need”, you say sarcastically. There is this obnoxious grin on his face, the grin that he used to give you whenever he wanted something from you. You hated it. You still do.

“Kitten, you know that he’s way out of your league. We both know it”

“I used to think of you like this too. But look at us now”.

Luke’s jaw is tightened, his fists are clenching and he glares at you; you know this look. His eyes always flickered with anger before he would slap your cheek; muscles in his jaw twitched before he slammed you onto the wall, which led in you hitting your head terribly. He would always stand there, with flushed face and narrowed eyes, before yelling at you, degrading you in any way possible. You know all of it too well.

And it makes you scared. You were sure you came through. You thought the trauma was far behind you. The pain he caused you should have been in the past. But now, when you look at him, standing in front of you with gritted teeth and radiating hatred and anger, you’re so fucking scared. You know it. You know this feeling. You are way too familiar with bruises, which were different from the ones Gwil leaves on your body; Gwilym’s are love-bruises, the marks he leaves on your hips when he’s eating you out and hold you firmly, so you wouldn’t squirm under him.

Luke’s bruises used to tell another story. His marks weren’t of love – no matter what he said about it. He would squeeze your forearm or shoulder to the point where you couldn’t even feel it anymore. He used to hurt you because you were laughing at jokes Billy made, or cause you were standing too close to that guy in the bar who was asking you about the band that was on the stage. His possessiveness was all fun and hot at first when he fucked you while being jealous. But then it started developing into this crazy obsession; you couldn’t even speak to any of the guys at uni, because you were too scared Luke would find out and punish you for that. His punishments were to hit you on the face with his knuckles, leaving you bleeding. His punishments were hurting you.

Gwil’s punishments never seemed to you as ones, because they are all about sex. And Gwilym is gentle with you, he’s loving. He caresses your face and kisses your troubles away when you don’t want to have sex; Luke used to make you love him.

Luke broke your heart by his constant cheating and manipulating; he wouldn’t let you leave him by pressuring you into that relationship. He would swear he’d kill himself if you left. And it kept you with him for almost three years until you had enough and until Billy, Becca, and Jackson got you out of it. Luke disappeared from your life at the second Becca threatened him with the police. But he is right here now, right in front of you. It’s been almost two years. You finally recovered. You were finally able to trust people, you trusted Gwil. And all of it is about to be ruined because Luke is standing next to you, being angry and ready to hit you. You know it’s true. You know it may happen.

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N”, Luke puts his hands on the hips. “You know you don’t talk to me like that. Don’t you, kitten?”

Think about something nice. Something good. Something that brings you joy. Something that may take the pain and fear away. That’s what you have to do.

“I’m not scared of you anymore”, you breathe, taking a step back. You need to come back inside. To safety. To Gwil. “A year of therapy – I’m not scared of you, Luke”, your voice is firmer now, more demanding. You know he’s afraid of powerful people. Especially of powerful women. And this is who you are – an imperious woman. And you can take care of yourself.

“Who says you have to be scared?” he’s so fucking close to you; he leans forward, invading your personal space – and that’s how you know you’re a goner. He’s stronger than you, he’s always been. You can only scream. And it makes you feel so small, so helpless. You’re almost the same height that Luke is – just five centimeters shorter – and you’re not less strong. But you still can’t do anything. He just makes you weak. You’re hopeless. “You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about you all this time”, his voice is low now; he smells like beer and cheap cigarettes – his distinctive scent. You feel nauseous because of it, you hope you’d throw up on him. But you don’t. “I used to watch you sometimes”, he traces circles on your exposed arm with his finger and you try to brush him off, but he grips your shoulder tightly with his other hand – and you wince and hiss at the feeling.

So you scream.

At least you try.

Luke is fast enough to cover your mouth with his hand; you’re pressed against the cold wall of the pub now, and there’s no one to help you – even your phone is inside. “Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you to keep your mouth shut?” Luke whispers in your ear and you turn your head away, eyes shut. You’ve never hated anyone more in your life than Luke right now. “You look so sexy in this dress”, he squeezes your boob and it makes you squeal – it isn’t pleasant in any way. It’s painful. “You make me so hard, kitten”, he takes your hand and makes you palm his dick through his pants. And you see the fucking opportunity; you know what to do the second your palm touches his crotch. You squeeze his penis so tightly that your nails dig into the soft skin – and when he jumps away, covering his crotch and swearing, you take no time in running away.

When you reach the entrance of the pub, you stumble upon Gwilym. You almost crash him, even though he’s taller and bigger than you.

“Woah”, Gwil catches you in his arms; and you fell so safely. Gwil is here, and there’s a full crowd of people. You’re finally safe. “Where you’ve been? I came looking for-“

“Let’s leave”, you say holding onto him for dear life. “Please”.

“Baby, what happened?” Gwil cups your cheeks in his hands and looks at you worriedly; he notices your mascara is running and hair is a bit of a mess – and you look so frightened. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, here she is!” you shudder at the sound of his voice; you lean in closer to Gwil. Because you need to feel safe. You need to be with him.

“Gwil. Please, let’s leave”, you whisper into his chest.

“It is him?” he asks you. “Is it Luke?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s angry. But this is a different type of anger – it’s not directed towards you. Gwil’s gloominess and anger are never directed towards you.

“That’s your sugar daddy, Y/N?” you hear Luke saying. Gwilym’s arm is now wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him, protecting you from Luke. You put your hands around his waist and bury your head in the crook of his neck. Gwil can feel you trembling. He hates it. He hates seeing you hurt, hates seeing you in pain.

“Get the fuck out”, Gwilym spits; you close your eyes and hope you’ll wake up. It’s just a bad dream; all you need to do is to wake up in your warm bed with Gwil’s arms around your waist. You just need to wake up in your safe place.

“It’s not like you own the pub, mate”, Luke chuckles.

“Gwil, baby, please”, you whisper against his neck, “just take me and let’s go. Please. He’s not worth it. Please”.

Gwil lets out a sigh; he wants to beat up this piece of shit so wildly, so strongly that he won’t be able to recover from it. But he knows that you don’t need this. Gwilym knows that the only thing you need is to leave and be safe.

“If I see you near Y/N one more time”, he’s warning him – but it sounds more like a threat. “If I see you creeping around her or her family, I’ll make sure you rot in jail”.

“You think I’m scared?”

“You should be. Because I’m not gonna tell you twice”.

“Gwil, please…” you say quietly.

“We’re leaving, baby”, he kisses your hair. “Just hold on”.

You don’t really understand how you get into the cab – the next thing you know you’re sitting on the backseat with your head on Gwil’s shoulder and your fingers intertwined with his. Gwilym’s free arm is around you and you feel safer than ever. “Did he do something to you, baby? Did he hurt you?” Gwil asks, softly rubbing your shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter. I hurt him even more”, you raise your head and look at him; Gwil’s brows draw together in confusion. “I might have ripped off his dick”, you explain, “or at least harm it profoundly. Long nails may be a good thing sometimes”, it’s the first time you smile in the past several minutes. Gwil kisses your forehead and you nuzzle into his neck. You feel warm, safe and at home.

When you finally get to Gwil’s hotel room, you take off your heels tiredly and sit down on the bed. You feel exhausted – both physically and mentally. “You’ve gotta take your makeup off first before going to sleep”, Gwil sits down on the bed near you with a couple of cotton pads and micellar water. You smile sheepishly and close your eyes.

“You care about my skin even more than I do”, you joke while he helps you remove the makeup.

“You told me to do this, remember?” his mouth curves into a smile. “Don’t ever let me fall asleep with my makeup on!” He tries to imitate your voice and the two of you laugh. “Here you go”, he says when it’s done. “Y/N”, Gwil cups your cheeks gently, “what happened out there?”

You swallow hard, trying to contain the urgent need to cry. “Nothing”, you answer, “nothing that hasn’t happened before”. He looks at you with concern and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs softly. All of it makes your eyes filled with tears. You feel so much at this moment. You feel pain, love and blissful happiness. And you love every part of it. “Gwil, I’m fine”, you reassure him. “The second I fell into your arms I was alright” Gwil keeps studying you, looking through you, and It makes you sigh deeply. You put your hands on his. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t wanna ever talk about Luke”, you move his hand and kiss his palm. “I’m with you, I’m safe. I know I’ll always be”, your smile is beaming and Gwil’s whole face lits up – he loves seeing you happy.

“I love you”, he says and kisses you hearty; it seems as if he tries to put all of his love into it. You answer eagerly and straddle him.

“I used to learn Spanish at school, you know”, you put your hands around his neck and murmur against his lips when you pull away. “Our teacher told us one cute little thing once”, Gwil raises his eyebrows, a smile on his lips. “’Mi media naranja’. You know what it means?” Gwilym shakes his head and puts a light kiss on your nose, making you giggle. “It means my other half, my significant other, my soulmate” you rub your noses together and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “You are ‘mi media naranja’, Gwil”, you whisper, looking into his eyes, “I have never loved before you”.  The next kiss is tender and full of pure love and softness. But Gwilym suddenly pulls away and gently puts you on the bed from his lap.

“What is it, baby?” you ask in confusion; he puts a kiss, a peck, on your cheek and smiles fondly.

“Wait a minute”, he disappears in the dark hall of the hotel room; and you sit on the edge of the bed, which is lightly illuminated by the table lamp.

Gwil comes back a moment later, hiding something behind his back. Before you’re even able to open your mouth, he drops on one knee right in front of you and takes out a ring. It’s not like the other one – the diamond is much smaller, but it’s still amazingly beautiful and, probably, costs a fortune too.

“I didn’t have the chance to do it three days ago when I was supposed to”, he says quietly. “And it’s all on me, it’s my fault”.

“Gwil”, you try to interrupt him but he doesn’t let you.

“Y/N, baby, just let me finish”. He lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back then. I’m sorry you had to go through those lies and pain because I didn’t call you. I’m an idiot and I will never forgive myself for doing so”. Gwilym looks at with glistening eyes. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I’ve never fallen so in love with someone like I did with you”, you can feel tears running down your cheeks; you put your hand on his face and he leans into your touch. “I promise I won’t ever hurt you. I promise that you’ll be the happiest with me. I love you. I should have done it the second I came into your flat two days ago, I should have done it much earlier so you wouldn’t come through any of this. I have loved you since the day we met, and I won’t ever stop. You’re the reason for every good thing in my life. Be with me. Stay with me. Marry me”.

“Yes”, you gasped through tears. “I will. At any chance given, Gwil – I will marry you”.

The kiss you share after this is wet, it tastes like salt and happiness, and it is so intimate and lingering that both of you don’t even notice when you’re lying in bed, your hands roaming about each other’s bodies.

And when you fall asleep that night – naked and with your back pressed to Gwil’s chest – you know that tonight you’ll dream of him again. But only this time you won’t be in pain. You’ll be extremely happy, as you are now. And now you’re in the state of eternal bliss. And you know this feeling won’t fade away. Ever.

                                     ╰╮✾╭╯✯╰╮✾╭╯

                                              Two days ago.

“Gwil?”

You blink, trying to process what’s going on. Why is he here? What does he want?

Oh right. He’s not real. You’re dreaming again. Of course! If it was real, Gwil wouldn’t be standing at your doorstep. In reality, he is with Alice now; they’re probably drinking wine while cuddling in the bubble bath. It’s you, dreaming again – and you just need to wake up. You shake your head and take a deep breath before slamming the door right in his face. You stand there for a moment, forehead pressed to the wood and heavy breathing, when you hear “Y/N, what is going on?”

Oh.

Oh.

So he is real. You raise your eyebrows and open the door slowly, facing him again. He looks at you with utter confusion and…pain?

“Why?”

The tears in his eyes make you frown; you can’t quite understand what is happening. “’Why’ what?” you ask as your forehead creases. You’re so confused; you don’t know what he wants from you. He looks devastated as if something terrible has happened – sadness clouds his perfect features, his glossy eyes make yours flooded with tears.

“Why don’t you want to see me anymore?” it is almost a whisper, and if you weren’t standing in front of each other, you know that you would never hear it. “What did I do, Y/N?” his voice sounds so desperate, so hurt. You don’t understand anything. You’ve lost the track of this conversation.

“What?” now it’s your turn to ask; you look at him, dumbfounded, as you feel the blood boiling inside of you. He thinks you don’t want to see him? After what he’s done? After disappearing and having you talk to Alice? After that? “I want to see you, Gwil”, the words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself, “but I can’t do it anymore. Not with you getting married to Alice”.

Suddenly Gwilym’s eyes flash, and he runs his hand through his hair, almost ripping it from his head. You draw in a long breath; you know this look on his face. Gwil is fucking angry. Angry like he has never been before.

“She told you that?” he says through gritted teeth.

You turn your head away as you answer quietly, “I’ve figured it out myself when I saw that ring on her finger”. Gwil looks at you bewildered, and clenches his fists; you don’t understand anything. Why is he angry? Why is he here and not with Alice? “You should probably get going, y’know”, you continue, “She’s waiting for you.” You feel tears running down your cheeks, and you can’t force yourself to face Gwilym. You want to be with him one last time, be his for this one last moment. But you can’t do that – he’s engaged to someone else. No matter how much you love him, you can’t make him love you. You can’t.

“I don’t think you need to be here. Alice told me everything; I won’t ask you of anything. I’ll move on. I left my wallet at your place, but you can throw it away, I don’t need it. I don’t need anything from you, don’t worry. I’ll move on”, it sounds as if you try to reassure yourself rather than Gwil; and he watches you, better be said, Gwil glowers at you, with his jaw tightened.

“What the fuck are you saying, Y/N?”

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean? I’m saying what is true, and you need to go back home to be with your fiancée. She’s waiting for you”, you repeat. “You didn’t have to come here to tell me the arrangement is over, I get it. I’ll find another sugar daddy, and won’t ever bother you”. You try to sound cheerful, but your voice breaks; shit, you want to be with him so bad. You want to be his fiancée; you need to be with him. But you can’t. At least, you think so.

“Is that what you want?” Gwil looks you right in the eyes; you think that he may burn you down with his gaze. “You want to get another sugar daddy? That’s what it is to you? A simple fucking arrangement that you can break and move on?”

It doesn’t take you long enough to realize it. He’s hurt. Is he hurt because he’s getting married to Alice and not you? No, that’s stupid. He can’t love you, it’s simply impossible. You are below average; your personality isn’t as bright as Alice’s. You’re not as beautiful as she is. You simply aren’t her. And she’s perfect.

“It never was”.

You don’t want to say it. But your mind and heart play a trick – they need you to say it. Because you will just explode if you don’t let it all out.

“Then why would you say all of it?”

“Because you’re getting married!” you shout. Is he really that stupid?

“I’m not!” he raises his voice in the tone of yours. “At least not to Alice”, he adds softly. Your brows knit. Who is it then?

“To Zoe?” you ask hesitantly. Gwil lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I can’t read your mind!” you say, irritated at his reaction. And he fucking grins at you; his eyes lit up the second you look into them and you can’t quite tell what causes such a reaction.

Or can you?

“I can’t quite deal with how oblivious you are, love”, he continues, a soft smile on his lips. You don’t understand any-fucking-thing. A guess of what he means crosses your mind, but you’re ignoring it. It can’t be true. No. It’s too good to be a reality; it can just happen in your dreams. “That ring was supposed to be yours”, your heart skips a beat and is ready to jump out of your chest; it’s not real. “It still is, Y/N. You are the one I want to be with. And I could give two shits about this stupid arrangement, I don’t care about it”, he’s heavy breathing; your chest rises and falls in unison with his, as you hear him say that. It’s not real, you keep thinking, it can’t be true. He can’t love me. It’s impossible.

You pinch your forearm with your nails and with all the strength you’ve got – only the pain makes you wince and hiss. “Love, what are you doing?” Gwil suddenly stands near you, only a couple of centimeters between the two of you. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath.

“Afraid I’ll wake up and all of it would be just another dream”, you speak quietly, as if your voice could also make your desirable reality turn into dust. “You can’t marry me”, you say before thinking. Gwil brings his large palm to your face and caresses your cheek gently.

“Why not?”

“’Cause it’s me”, you breathe out. “I’m not like Alice, I’m not-“

“Y/N”, Gwil cups your face in his hands. “I want you. Always wanted you. Only you. Wanna know why?” you look away and nod slightly. “Because you scrunch your nose every time you smell something that I’ve cooked”, his thumb draws small circles on your cheek, “you are the little spoon even though you try to prove wrong”, the corners of your mouth turn up, “you’re my biggest support. You’ve got the most generous heart, and the softest hands” now you’re looking into each other’s eyes, “your smile makes me the happiest man on Earth. Alice has none of it. Nobody has it. But you. Only you. I-“ He stutters.

“Every part of you, it’s perfect. I love every little thing you do. Every move you make, every time you fight with me over stupid things, every time you stay up just to spend time with me – I love all of this. I love you.” You look at him with glossy eyes, as your heart is pounding in your chest. You can feel like there’s no oxygen left in the world – you can’t breathe. The whole world stopped turning and froze tight at this moment, right when Gwilym told you this. “Shit, baby, I think I’ve loved you since you said ‘Guess I’ll die as a poor bitch’”, you let out a chuckle through your tears, and Gwil laughs with you. He looks at you – and you finally see in what way.

He observes you tenderly, lovingly, with his thumbs stroking your cheeks and wiping your tears away. His smile is beaming as he looks deeply into your eyes – you know that he’s waiting for the answer. And it’s been building up for so long. You’ve been craving for this moment daily, silently praying that he notices. And now you know that he did, he always did. He noticed every little thing – but he was as scared as you, to tell the truth.

And now is the perfect moment to let it all out.

So you put your hands on his face, cautiously at first as if you’re still afraid he’d disappear - but then you fondly look up at him and pull him into a kiss. It’s thrilling, almost sacred – the kiss you’ve already had for million times. But it’s still very different now. Because now you know that he loves you. He really does. It still seems unreal, still seems like a fantasy. So you pull away from him quickly, not being able to contain your emotions, as tears shimmer in your eyes. “God, I’m so stupid”, you whisper, leaning into his chest and closing your eyes. Gwilym caresses your hair and put his arms around you. “I love you too, Gwil”, these anticipated words finally slip from your mouth, “so much”.

________________________________________________________________________________

I’m a sucker for feedback lmao pls

“alio” taglist:  @majesticdiscodeaky @heartsarecompatible @all-my-friends-are-german @magicwithaknife @longing-hiraeth @thelondondreamer5 @roger-taylors-drumsticks @runningoutofwordstosay @chlobo6 @you-and-i-deserve-the-world @queenficarchive @murydedeus03 @alis-volat-propriiis @deacycomics @hollandspcter @gwils-bitch   @crazylittlethingcalleddub-step @painthatiusedto @kaylaylaylayla @rogerinastolemyheart @broken-pieces @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @leah-halliwell92 @brianandthemays @murydedeus03 @rogerfxckingtaylor

[inspiredhearts]

Only The Young - Taylor Swift

I first heard this song before the documentary Miss Americana. It was an okay song, but not something I listened to repeatedly. The lyrics just evaded me that time. When I watched the documentary and saw the history of the song and how it was made and the feelings upon making this song, it became something that resonated with me in ways I didn't think it would.

I have never been vocal about my political stand because I really didn't have any. It was difficult to support someone who you don't really know beyond the news, beyond what people are saying about them, beyond the cases filed against them even. I was okay with the fact that I think everyone is just corrupt and evil and while I had my choices before, it was always somewhere along the lines of choosing the lesser evil because there really is no competent candidate.

I remember posting about Duterte before and how I loathed him. I was not wrong - he was really evil and corrupt and just an asshole.

This pandemic happened and everything just became hopeless for me as time went by. The government does not care - and to top it off, they even stole billions and billions of pesos that was supposed to be used for the pandemic efforts and to help the Filipinos.

Years into the pandemic and there's still no free mass testing for the Filipinos. It is difficult to really trace this from the beginning because the directive is a sham. My family is not poor but we wouldn't get tested because it is expensive and no one would take care of us. When we got sick, I was worried, I was frustrated, I was just angry at this government. Fuck them for leaving people alone like this. We didn't get tested and fortunately we became okay again. This was recent. But what about everything that's happened to everyone since the beginning of this pandemic? Things that should have been avoided if the government did not fuck up.

With this comes the ray of light which is the Office of the Vice President even with its limited budget and manpower. I was amazed that something like that can be done with the help of the people. At the same time I was angry because that could have been the care that the Filipinos got if the President and his puppets cared for us.

The elections this May 2022 is something that I look forward to and dread at the same time. I needed VP Leni and Sen. Kiko to win this. I need them for me to have hope in a Philippines that we deserve. It pains me to see how people are still supporting that son of a dictator when he doesn't even have any charisma, nor wit of his father; when all he has is the surname of his father who is still popular to many people. How it ended up like that is puzzling to me.

I have watched documentaries of the Marcos regime and boy my anger was through the roof. They think they own the Philippines and that the Filipinos owe them a lot. They want to have this power again so that they can steal more. Fuck them, really.

We have a viable candidate who will help us have a better Philippines. Sure, 6 years is not enough to make every single problem in this country disappear but goddamnit, 6 years is also too much for someone who just wants to mooch off the Philippines money and resources. Haven't we learned from this current administration?

I listen to Taylor Swift's song and I don't want to experience that heartbreak. I don't want to cry after the elections. I want to celebrate. Rejoice. Have hope. I want to be able to look forward to someone who cares about us.

I kept on having dreams about the elections. It's a nightmare when other parties win. I wake up shaking, crying. I hate it. I hate that that is possible. I hate that Leni's not a sure win because we badly need her to win. Whenever the dream ends up with Leni winning, it's like I'm waking up from a nightmare. It's me having hope again. It's me crying tears of joy. But then I really wake up and realize that it hasn't happened yet and dread fills my soul.

It's really easier to care now than before because we saw how this pandemic was mishandled, and we also have a candidate finally who doesn't really care about the power and the money that the position is able to bring her. We have someone who is a loving mother to us. Someone who cares.

Damn it I remember in that one documentary where Imelda was speaking about herself as the mother of this country. She thinks of herself as the mother nurturing us when all she ever did was control the Filipinos to whatever narrative she wanted to get out to the world. She will never be seen as a mother. She can only wish to have Leni's charisma and even then, she won't be able to pull it off because she's just a greedy, manipulative person.

I don't care if I won't have a boyfriend anymore. I don't care if I won't fall in love anymore and succumb into that sadness of being lonely and alone. I don't care about these - as long as the right government officials win and help us see the light in this dark country. I just want a better Philippines. I also specifically want this pandemic to end and I believe that with someone who cares, we will all survive this.

Please. Let the right people win.