#had a high school friend with a dog so big in my memory he came up to my shoulder and I think I almost passed out

[raapija]

Käärijä's Veikkaus interview, 5.5.2023

Ten Questions For Käärijä

In this interview Vantaa's most famous bowl-cut Jere Pöyhönen tells, how he thinks about his Käärijä-named alter ego and why he would sometime want to "whack" Käärijä. Furthermore, he reveals his embarrassing vice - and reminds you that in every one of us there lives a tiny Jesus.

Q1: Why do you have such a funny haircut?

"When I was in junior high, I got a bowl-cut during a break. It was on a whim. There were us two boys, who did it, and we rocked with the bowl-cuts. I've always been whimsical, a guy, who is easy to provoke. I like to try things, and I've never really been embarrassed by anything. We had a few friend groups in Vantaa, with who I hung out with, and I was always the clown in the group. I like to make others laugh and I also like to laugh at myself. The others laughed with me, not at me - or that's atleast what I like to believe!"

Q2: So, Vantaa - you're a born and bred Vantaa-citizen. What does Vantaa mean to you?

"Quite a lot actually. I think that Vantaa is an under-dog kinda place. It reflected, for example, in hockey, which I used to play a lot. When we played against Espoo, it had emotion! The deal is, in fact, that Vantaa-people hate people from Espoo! [laughter] People from Vantaa are somehow more real than Espoo-citizens or people from Helsinki, more honest. If a Vantaa-person doesn't have money, then for fuck's sake they don't have money, they won't try to hide it, like Espoo-people do. Indeed, Vantaa is the place to be. Or at least the Tikkurila hoods, Myyrmäki on the other hand... We totally aren't any kind of a big and happy family in Vantaa. [laughter] East- and West-Vantaa are completely different things, kinda like the Bronx and Brooklyn. Actually I'm from Ruskeasanta, and for example Ruskeasanta's or 'Rusa' 's Shell (a gas station) has been a significant place in my life. We used to go there with friends on our mopeds and drink coffee and tea, fool around, bully vocational school students."

Q3: Wait a minute, you've gone to vocational school, too, but you aren't a student who drives around Tikkurila, around the local blocks?

"I haven't really driven there, maybe a couple times. But I haven't been serious about it in that way. I've never been a car-person, more of a moped-person, and that moped I liked more to tune and decorate, than to drive. I painted, tuned and tinkered with it. I, for example, melted Legos on the covering so I could get more plastic on them - no-one could ever guess, what color moped I'd come to school with."

"In my opinion, vocational school was more of a lifestyle than one going to vocational school. Students drove from gas station to gas station and went to Jumbo (a mall) with driving gloves on. I would rather stay at home to sleep and play Habbo Hotel. Sometimes I'd go to meets (meeting organized by youth to come show off their mopeds), and those were fun, but to those, too, we went with a few friends to laugh at the other dudes. [laughter] If I would now go to Rusa's Shell, I hope people would react to me positively. I'm still nevertheless on their side.

Q4: What kind of memories do you have from Vantaa's Tulisuudelma (a pub, restaurant and music venue)?

"There I didn't go a lot. I was more often at Porkku (Pormestari, a nightclub that has since closed). The few times I was at Tulisuudelma, I sang karaoke. Vesku's 'Hyvää Puuta', that was my favorite. But Porkku was, at least in my mind, Tikkurila's most popular bar. It was a bit like Pinkku (a restaurant called Pingviini), but the cooler guys went to Porkku. [laughter] Yeah, vocational school students went to Pinkku. It might be, that 'Cha Cha Cha' is about a night in Porkku. There I have my first bar-memories. It became my own little home, where all the friends in town came to."

"'Cha Cha Cha' represents dancing, and dancing represents freedom for me. That, that you have to be able to not be afraid to dance without thinking what the others think, even without drugs. You can see it as a drinking song also, I don't care about interpretations, but to me, it represents a lot more also. I want to encourage people to break free, because it's not about how well you can dance, it's about how you carry yourself. I'm not the most skilled singer, rapper or artist. But I believe in this thing, this madness, and I put 150 points on it. It creates the aesthetic, that he is just crazy and a star, even though really I'm just a regular dude from Vantaa."

Q5: The song lasts 2 minutes and 55 seconds. Because of those shy of a three minutes you'll soon go on a long trip abroad to perform. What does that feel like?

"As a thought it's damn crazy. How much work - hours, days, weeks, months - and then it's over. Those are probably my life's most important 2 minutes and 55 seconds. I think, that Käärijä is going on a little trip, does what he does best and it goes just the way it is meant to go. Everything doesn't even need to be so fucking thought out and perfect. It needs a bit of improv, my own style. Because I don't like to be bound."

Q6: You're a pop-star and many people have put a lot of money into your career. Isn't it inevitable, that in some way, you are bound?

"Yeah, that's exactly true. I've had had to work on that. I avoid it, when people tell me things and try to get me to do stuff, that I don't stand behind. It's been hard learning to say no, but it has been a necessary skill. Those people do see Käärijä as a product. It feels like a crazy thought - I'm like a walking billboard. But I'm a human and I have to do my own stuff, my own values, and not be with a note on my forehead saying 'buy this' or 'I'm selling this'."

"I've gone along with a couple things, but those have been the kind that benefit me. I want to rip out everything from those guys - the record label, ad-collabs and everything, and secure it that I'm not being fucked over. This is a rough business. People want a piece of Käärijä, which they can benefit from, so I have to be really alert. And not everything can be measured in wealth. For example, I've done stuff for charity."

Q7: Many of the stories about you are headlined "Jere from Vantaa", and that's the way you seem like: a nice basic dude. How does that nice basic dude handle all that hassle?

"At the beginning, not so well. I'm humble, and I still have a lot to learn about a certain type of roughness. You have to know your value and value yourself. Who am I, where do I belong, what do I want from life - I think about these and develop all the time. But it's not easy when the big bosses come to say how things are. Then you just have to stay tough and argue against them."

"The piss hasn't got up to my head, because I'm not 20 anymore. If all this had happened at that age, I would most definitely be an asshole. I can differentiate Jere from Käärijä. If on the streets someone films me, or someone sends me suggestive messages on instagram, I know that those are meant for Käärijä, not Jere. They don't really even know Jere, in a way."

"Jere sometimes wonders on red carpets abroad 'why am I here?'. It sometimes feels like a ridiculous circus show - even though I obviously enjoy it and value it. Byt my morals lie elsewhere. I don't appreciate people if they have some great job and money, that doesn't interest me at all. People shouldn't be seen as products, but people should be seen as people and appreciated the way they are. That's why it feels so weird when people go nuts sometimes about this Käärijä-thing, start to cry when they see me. In Madrid one guy fainted because they saw me! It was at the same time like wow, we had created something that had caused this kind of a reaction. But at the same time I think 'what the fuck just happened to you?'."

Q8: What sort of a relationship does Jere have with Käärijä?

"A really good one, mainly. We have a lot in common. In a way I'm a Käärijä-fan because I have to like the thing I'm doing, and in my mind we're making the best shit in Finland ever. But sometimes, when there's so much of this Käärijä-stuff, I'd like to whack that Käärijä: every time I come home and look in the mirror, there that bowl-cut is. Then I miss it, when I could go as Jere to the shop and be Jere to the people and not everyone would circle around Käärijä: how are you, how are you managing, how's the gigs, how's the music - fuck it. Let's talk about the weather!"

"Käärijä is also an armor. If someone asks to put on the bolero and go lay around for those photos, Käärijä will do it. Jere might not. With Käärijä I'm able and not afraid to do things. But the way that everyone right now wants to benefit from Käärijä, is of course sometimes heavy - and that's Käärijä's fault! He fucking did it! [laughter]"

Q9: If you could choose anyone to go in a sauna with, living or dead, who would you choose?

"That's a tough one. I'm a fan of Rammstein like crazy and I can relate to (the singer) Till Lindeman. But they say he's a really stiff guy. We probably wouldn't have a lot of conversation in the sauna..."

"If Jesus is really a real person in history, I'd maybe choose Jesus. I'd like to discuss with him: what all did he do, what kind of a guy he was. I'm really interested in that. Was he a regular fellow like all the rest of us?"

"I believe, that in all of us, there lives a tiny Jesus. I mean that I don't believe we're just a brain and a lump of meat. We're so much more. I don't necessarily mean supernatural things, but that there's something else, something that we can't reach with our level of consciousness. I don't believe in coincidences. There's always a reason why things go this or that way."

Q10: Do you have some secret or habit that you're embarrassed about so much that you wouldn't want to tell of it to anyone?

"I don't really have skeletons in my closet like that... Well, this is a bit dumb, but the thing that I'm sometimes afraid to do, is: I like to put ketchup on everything. I put ketchup in meat soup, too. Once I was in a fancy steak restaurant, a great steak in front of me, and I thought, damn I'd kill for some ketchup now. But there were people around, certain type of steak enthusiasts, that I couldn't do it, because people would've judged it really hard. Yeah, maybe it's about being from Vantaa! [laughter]"

Käärijä's make-up and hair: Tiia Loikkanen

Photography digitech: Pauli Boström

Photography: Ville Malja

Original writer: Jose Riikonen

[justarandombrit]

Okay well as you may know from looking at my blog for five seconds, I saw the matinee for Starkid Innit. During the interval and after the show I wrote down some notes. I tried to get them in chronological order but my memory is dogshit and I definitely missed some stuff, I hope you appreciate it though.

Outside:

. EVERYONE SUNG GRANGER DANGER

. IT WAS SO GOOD (except for the high note lmao)

. EVERYONE SUNG DAYS OF SUMMER

. EVERYONE A SMALL GROUP OF PEOPLE SUNG GOIN' BACK TO HOGWARTS

Act 1:

. The Nightmare Time sting punched me in the face

. The shout-out to the confused parents

. BRIAN + MEREDITH IN TGWDLM IS EVERYTHING TO ME

. High School Is Killing Me, Literal Monster and Nerdy Prudes Must Die all got mashed together!

. Corey!Richie is my Roman Empire

. Jaime in NPMD….

. Jaime had a different line to PJ’s original in Literal Monster. I couldn't hear half of it but it was different

. JEFF!MAX

. THE AUDIENCE SINGING RICHIE'S PART!!!!!! I'M NOT A LOSERRRRRRR

. TOGETHER!!!!!

. OUR DOORS ARE OPEN

. Jaime singing Sami/Harry ABOUT HER DOG (Nori)

. The audience whipping out the phone cameras

. CLARK SINGING I WAS GAVE ME SUCH INTENSE CHILLS

. Joey finally giving the white, male side characters attention

. Joey changing “I know I'm not a star” to “I know I'm not Clark”

. He pointed the mic at the audience for the “DEFINITELY NOT!”

. Joey mistimed his jump 😔😔

. Genuinely his best performance of Sidekick yet

. Joey making fun of Brian for not getting a big solo

. Brian kept pretending to beat him up, it was brilliant

. Not Over Yet is definitely Brian's song, shut up

. Brian accidentally singing the same verse twice (How does he always mess this song up?!?!?)

. My mum took a photo during the “EVIL PLAAAAANSSSS” bit and it was right when Brian was choking Joey

. “So look alive and don't forget”

“FORGET WHAT?”

. FEAST OR FAMINE

. Rogues Are We still goes so hard

. Rogues Medley without Kick It Up A Notch is weird, but Kick It Up A Notch without Dylan would definitely be weirder

Intermission:

. Ice cream :D

Act 2:

. Starting with We Got Work To Do is so iconic

. THERE'S BEEN A CHANGE IN THE CLIMATE, SOMETHING'S IN THE AIR, WE FEEL THE HEAT, NO NEED TO DEFINE IT, WE DON'T REALLY CARE

. MEREDITH REQUESTED BACK ON TOP!!!!!!!! AND IT WAS SO GOOOOD!!!!!!!

. Joey shouted “Draco, get on the floor!” at Lauren

. ALL THE UNDERRATED SONGS

. I love how it was hyped up like it was going to be Boy Toy, and then just straight up wasn't lmaooo

. Brian finally got the slow, sexy Hideous Creatures (Take that, Nick Lang!)

. Okay I'm trying to remember the order of the underrated songs they did

. Hideous Creatures (Lauren)

. Pays To Be an Animal (Corey) (He didn't sit in the spotlight and someone yelled “TO THE LEFT, COREY”)

. Get In My Mouth (Jeff) (He fully sprawled out on the stage it was hilarious)

. Land of the Dicks (Jaime)

. Hermione Can't Draw (Meredith) (She sung it so well I briefly didn't recognise the song)

. THEY MANAGED TO WORK IN LUPIN / BRIAN CAN'T SING YESSSS

. I genuinely cannot remember what Brian sung

. Gotta Find His Dick (Joey, and eventually everyone)

. The entire “Oh you wanna know where I got my shirt?” bit

. Brian, Jaime and Joey got it from Primark, Meredith got it from “Primed-mrak”, Lauren’s was a family heirloom, Corey got it from Gucci and Jeff got it from America, from Pri-mart (He made the guy on the drums do a baddum tsh)

. COREY SINGING SHOW STOPPIN' NUMBER. OH MY GOD. (The entire crowd joined in, also, Jeff and Jaime as Steve and Stu)

. Everyone cheering so loud when Joey and Lauren came on stage, and them claiming we had no idea what they were going to sing, and it was actually a completely new song (it was Granger Danger obviously)

. And them continuing to claim it was new throughout the song

. As I expected, I almost cried during Not Alone. Also apparently Darren thought it was going to be a big hit??? And just begrudgingly let them use it for A Very Potter Musical

. Super Friends!

. So sad Jeff’s mic was so quiet for “I WANNA BE A MODERN DANCER”

. THEY SUNG WANNABE BY THE SPICE GIRLS

. The fakeout of everyone leaving stage, then the band coming back on and playing the start of Goin' Back To Hogwarts

. “Darren's not here”

“I'LL DO IT”

. THE AUDIENCE DID THE FIRST PART OF GOIN' BACK TO HOGWARTS ALL BY OURSELVES

. JEFF DID DYLAN'S PART (but he didn't do “All of you to [city name] :( )

. Jeff pointed at various parts of the audience for “Welcome hotties, nerds and tools!” and then whispered “I'm so sorry” immediately after

. Singing (/ shouting) Goin' Back To Hogwarts along with hundreds of other Starkid fans was so exhilarating, I loved it and I almost cried (also I'm gonna be so hoarse tomorrow)

[songsofadelaide]

"—ppy Birthday tooo yooou!" The light was dimmed and the only illumination came from the numerous candles set alight on a shiny fruit and cream shortcake, your smile as bright as the sun as your friends sang in the background. "—ke a wish before you blow the candle—"

Click.

"—toru, hurry up before the timer hits!—" "—f my life, my angel, my—" A young Satoru ran to your side and gave your cheek a big-ass smooch as countless golden ginkgo leaves rained in your background. A picture-perfect autumn ahead of a new year full of decisions. "Ahaha! Nooo! That tickl—"

Click.

"—guru, come on over! You too, Shoko! It—" Empty coffee cups were strewn across your shared table with your friends, the sound of both laughter and complaints filling the air as your friends gathered around you and Satoru, his laughter the loudest of them all. "—haha! Ack! No! W-Wait up, Kento! Satoru said—"

Click.

"Oh, so that's what you've been up to, Seiya," you said, breaking the silence that enveloped your son's bedroom as he jumped from his gaming chair and hurriedly minimized the open video player on his PC.

"M-Mom! H-How long have you been standing there?!"

"Long enough for me to know where my missing SD cards went," you chuckled at the evidently embarrassed face of your teenage son, the spitting image of his father in his youth except for his eyes— which he clearly inherited from you. "Now how did you get your hands on these?"

"W-Well, I..." Came the boy's sheepish reply, a nervous hand on his nape as he evaded your curious gaze. His embarrassed expression starkly contrasted with your husband's usual mischievousness and boisterousness, even though they shared the same long, feathery and silvery eyelashes and hair.

"You're not in trouble, dear, if that's what you're worried about," you reassured him as you took a half-seat on the handle of his chair, careful not to rest your entire weight on it. "Now let me see..."

Seiya released his mouse to you, which you used to click on the minimized video player once more. Digicams were all the rage back when you were in high school and well into college and as the only one in your friend group who owned one, you were primarily responsible for documenting every mundane and special occasion whenever you all got together.

"Oh, this was from my 18th birthday," you laughed as you clicked on the following snippets. "And this was when your father and I visited Meiji Shrine before our college entrance exams. Aaand I think this was just a regular day! We just had coffee..."

"Aunt Shoko never really stopped smoking, did she?" Came your son's query as he eyed you browsing through the aged video clips with a small smile on your face. It was clear to him that you were reminiscing now about the days of your youth, encapsulated in slightly grainy and overexposed photos and videos, yet the memories were clear as day.

"Nope. Though she does that thing now. That, uh, vaping thing? Now don't get any ideas, young man."

"I-I won't, Mom! I promise!" Seiya stammered at your slight warning. "I'm sorry I touched your things. I just thought it would be interesting... to see how you and dad were when you were my age."

Oh, but he pulls off those adorable puppy dog eyes just like his father, all right.

"It's hard to believe that he had so much time for you back then! I-I mean he's so busy now! Does he even remember to text you or at least get you a gift every now and then? I-If not, maybe we can go somewhere together? Or do something together?"

"Oh, Seiya. I'll have you know that I am very happy to be married to your father," you gently laughed at your son's little outburst, coiling your arms around his neck as he lazily rested his warm cheek on your chest. "He loves me a great deal and does so much for me. And for you, in case you've forgotten."

"I... I know," came his defeated response. "All the work he does is for us..."

"I don't think Toru is so busy that he forgets us... Do you perhaps miss your father, Seiya?"

"N-No, I don't!" The boy huffed in your arms, his brows furrowed as he attempted to hide his evidently embarrassed face yet again.

"Your father and I love you very much, Seiya," you said with a smile and a soft hum as you tenderly ran your fingers through your son's hair. You weren't surprised when he wrapped his arms around you and returned your embrace. I suppose he takes after his father in clinginess, too.

"I already know that... But thanks, mom."

[hockey-fics]

Next Summer ~ Brock Boeser 

Summary: The summers spent at your family’s cabin were some of your favourite memories. When you return as an adult you discover that maybe not everything from the past was really left in the past. 

Word Count: ~5,300

Warnings: Drinking, implied smut (I guess, but it’s very fleeting and vague)

Traditions didn’t hold a huge place in your life growing up. Every Christmas you bounced from one relative’s home to another. Thanksgiving dinners almost never looked the same. Cousins and aunts and uncles would come and go, years of family dinners and holiday gatherings would go by before you would see them again. 

But there was always one thing that you looked forward to each and every year. Every summer, for two and a half months, you would drive down from your home in the suburbs to the cabin on the lake. You would get to forget about school and homework and bedtimes. You would spend all day out in the summer sun, sticky with sunscreen and bug spray. 

Your family wasn’t the only one. Each of those cabins along that shoreline would come alive. The quiet beaches would fill with children, adults on decks drinking a few hours before it became socially acceptable anywhere else. Dark nights would be brightened by campfires and beams from unsteady flashlights, held onto by kids who should have been in bed long ago. 

There was a sense of peace that was brought on by that property. Time moved slower, everyone seemed happier, things felt easier. But as time went on you started spending less and less time out there. You went away to university. You became busy with internships and jobs and leases that didn’t end for the few months of summer. 

But eventually the property lost the interest of your parents. With no children at home, familiar friends who once had cabins up there selling them off, the time and energy and money to take care of it no longer seemed to be worth it. You yourself hadn’t been there in a couple years, though the memories were as vivid as always. So when the option of them gifting the property to you came up it took little consideration for you to say yes. 

After packing your car full of essentials you headed up to the cabin shortly after the exchange of ownership. When you pull up to the familiar cabin there’s a sense of ease that washes over you, even now that you had a truckload of responsibility to go with coming up here. 

Hoping out of the car you bring everything inside, the memories flooding in. After putting your groceries in the kitchen, sheets on the bed, and pulling the patio couch cushions out you head out onto the deck to enjoy the fresh air and slight breeze rolling in off the lake. 

A few minutes after flopping down onto the patio furniture you’re greeted by a big white dog, tail wagging crazily as he stares up at you. 

“Hey buddy,” you say, reaching over and scratching him behind the ear. “Where did you come from?”

“Milo.”

Tipping your head up you look in the direction of the man calling for who you would guess to be the dog that was standing in front of you. Standing up you walk towards the edge of your deck, the dog following after you, nose nudging at your hand. “I think-,” you begin, freezing when you notice who was standing in the yard next to you. “Oh my god,” you laugh, hurrying down the stairs. “You’re still around, hey?”

You grew up with Brock. At least for two months of the year every summer. You were the same age and his family owned the property next door. The crush you had on Brock spanned from early in your life right up till the last summer you spent together right after high school graduation. 

“Holy shit,” Brock comments, shaking his head. He has his arms around you as soon as you’re close enough for him to reach you. “Of course I’m still around, I’m out here every summer. You’re the one who vanished.”

Pulling back you look up at Brock, shaking your head. “Sorry, we don’t all have an off-season.”

“I guess you’ve got a point,” Brock chuckles. “Just out here for the weekend then?”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” you admit. “The place is mine now and I work remotely so I guess I could be out here as long as I want but I don’t know, it feels weird to think about being here that long again.”

“Yours, hey?” Brock states, glancing behind you at the house. “Are your parents okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assure him. “Just not as interested in getting drunk on the lake everyday of the summer anymore.”

Brock laughs, glancing out at the lake before turning his attention back to you. “Well I’m glad it’s yours now, wouldn’t want to see anyone else here.”

You couldn’t deny the way he still managed to fill your stomach with butterflies, even all these years. “Me too,” you say, voice quiet. Glancing down you pet the dog again that had still not left your side. 

“I see you’ve met Milo,” Brock comments, glancing over his shoulder and pointing to the second dog that was laying under the shade of a tree. “That one’s Coolie.”

“They’re very cute,” you tell him, smiling down at Milo. “How long are you up here for?”

Brock shrugs, like time didn’t mean anything to him. “Till sometime in August.”

“So I guess we have plenty of time to catch up then.”

“Absolutely,” Brock says with a smile. “You want to come over for a drink or something?”

“I’d be down for a drink.”

You follow Brock across the yard and onto the deck, accepting the can of cider he offers before sitting down on the soft cushions of one of the patio cushions. “So, what’s new in your life?”

Brock shrugs, flopping down onto the patio sectional, Milo joining him seconds later. “Not too much, I guess. Just been in Vancouver for the last while playing for the Canucks.”

You can’t help but laugh at his comment. “Well I know that much, can’t exactly stay under the radar as a professional athlete.”

“I guess,” Brock chuckles. “What about you though, you seem to be staying under the radar pretty well.”

“Gotta keep a little mystery…or my life just isn’t that exciting, I don’t know. I got my degree, moved back to Minnesota and now I’m just working from home…living the life, really,” you joke. 

“I can’t imagine you not making life exciting.”

Rolling your eyes playfully you take a sip of your drink. “Why’s that? Because I used to steal my parent’s alcohol and try to convince everyone to go swimming in the middle of the night?”

“Well that was pretty exciting back then,” Brock laughs. 

“Are you out here alone?” you ask, looking towards the cabin. It was pretty quiet for anyone else to be here but you almost couldn’t imagine Brock ever being alone. 

“Yeah, for now,” Brock nods. “My, um, my mom doesn’t really come up very much anymore.”

“Right,” you say quietly. You hadn’t talked to Brock in a very long time, but that didn’t mean you didn’t know anything about his life, including his father. 

“I have a few friends coming up in a few days though,” Brock tells you, his inflection rising, an obvious attempt to change the topic. 

“Uh oh,” you joke with a playful smile. “Sounds like trouble.”

“Hey, now, I’ve never been trouble,” Brock defends, laughing under his breath. 

“I don’t know about that one,” you tease. 

The two of you sit on Brock’s deck, drink after drink as you exchanged stories from the nearly 10 years since the last time you saw each other. You didn’t even realize how long had passed or how late it had gotten till the sun was beginning to set and you realized your mind was hazy from the alcohol. 

“I guess I should get going, don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you say, finishing off the last of the drink you had in your hand. 

“You never could,” Brock tells you, taking the empty can from your hand as you stand up. “But I won’t hold you here either.”

“I appreciate that,” you laugh, glancing back to your cabin. “I should probably go figure out dinner though.”

“Fair enough,” Brock chuckles. “See you tomorrow?”

“I’m sure you will,” you tell him, heading down the steps of the deck and back over to your own house. 

After making yourself a late dinner you head to bed, your mind unable to think of much more than Brock. It was clear that your feelings for him hadn’t entirely disappeared. But eventually you manage to clear your mind enough to fall asleep, sleeping peacefully through the night till the sun shining through the blinds in your room wakes you up. 

You make yourself some breakfast before dragging your laptop out onto the deck with your mug of coffee to get some work done for the day. It’s not long before your attention is broken by the sound of Brock’s voice, calling after his dogs as they run out the door and towards the lake. 

Smiling you watch the dogs for a few minutes as they splash around in the shallow water of the lake. When you look away from them you see Brock looking in your direction, raising his hand in a friendly wave. 

“Morning,” you call to him, sitting up straighter to look over the edge of the patio railing as Brock comes closer. 

“How was your first night back out here?”

“It was great,” you tell him. “Do you want some coffee?”

Brock’s eyes shift to your laptop before looking back at you. “I don’t want to interrupt you if you’re working.”

Shrugging you push yourself away from the table to stand up. “I’ve been missing the interruptions you get working in an office anyway,” you tell him with a smile. “Do you want anything in it?”

“Some cream if you have it.” Brock makes his way up the steps of the deck, sitting down at the table across from you as you return with a mug of coffee for him. “Got any plans for after work?”

“Not really,” you tell him, sitting back down and looking over your laptop at him. 

“I just bought a couple stand-up paddle boards a few weeks ago. Would you want to come test them out with me?”

“As long as you promise not to laugh at me when I fall off.”

“I promise,” Brock chuckles. “You can get back to your work if you want, I don’t want to distract you.”

“Hard not to be distracted by you,” you tell him, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Well I’m always happy to be your distraction.”

After Brock finishes his coffee he heads back to his own place, giving you a chance to actually get some uninterrupted work time in. It’s nearly 5 when you wrap up everything you had to finish for the day. Changing out of the pyjamas you had spent the better half of the day in you tug a pair of shorts over a bikini, heading across the yard to Brock’s place. 

With the garage door wide open you step into it, watching Brock doing kettlebell swings. 

“Enjoying the view?” Brock asks, looking at you through the mirror when he finishes up his set. 

“Well I can’t say I’m not enjoying it,” you tell him, glancing around the garage turned gym. “This is pretty impressive, I remember when this place was filled with bikes and beach toys.”

Brock turns around to face you, wiping a layer of sweat from his forehead. “I needed to have something out here to train if I want to spend this long out here.”

“Makes sense. Well, I can get out of here to stop distracting you, when did you want to go out on the paddle boards?”

“I’m just finishing up here, I’ll probably go have a shower before we head out.”

“Do I get to enjoy that view too?” you joke. 

Brock chuckles, reaching down to pick up the kettlebell again. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

Shaking your head you take a step out of the garage. “I’ll meet you down at the beach when you’re ready.”

“Okay, see you in a bit,” Brock says as you head out of the garage. 

Finding a beach towel you head out onto the end of the dock that was connected to your yard, laying it out and shimmying out of your shorts. Laying down on your stomach you rest your head on your arms, enjoying the way the sun felt like a warm blanket cloaked over your body. 

It’s not long before you hear Brock calling your name and you roll onto your back, looking down to the end of the dock. 

“Ready to go?” Brock calls. 

Collecting your things from the dock you hurry down to meet Brock, following him to grab the paddle boards before heading to the edge of the lake. The water is surprisingly warm for July and you climb onto your paddle board with a shocking amount of ease. 

After steadying yourself the two of you begin to paddle along the shoreline, your conversation falling to quick comments here and there as you focus intensely on keeping yourself upright. By the time you make it back to the section of the lake in front of your house you’re more than ready to follow Brock’s lead and sit down on the board, floating easily on the still water. 

“You’re pretty good at this,” Brock tells you. 

Your legs are crossed in front of you, arms behind you on the board as you lean back into them. “Guess my balance is better than I expected.”

“I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get to see you fall in.”

“Oh, you want to see me get wet?” you joke.

“I-I, that’t…well, I mean, I-,” Brock stammers, shaking his head as he gives up on his sentence. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tease, giggling as you stretch your legs out in front of you. “What are your plans for tonight?”

Brock hesitates for a second, eyes narrowing. “Are you hinting at something?”

It takes you a moment to realize what was going on, reaching down and running your hand through the lake to splash Brock. “No,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I was going to see if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

“Oh,” Brock laughs, eyes diverting down to the surface of the lake, cheeks flushing red. “Yeah, dinner sounds great.”

After putting the paddle boards away you and Brock head over to your place, digging through the kitchen to try to figure out what to make for dinner. You hadn’t really thought through your plan, inviting Brock over before you even know what you would make for dinner. 

“You’ve been in the fridge for awhile,” Brock comments, sitting at the bar counter on the other side of the kitchen, watching you curiously. 

Sighing you turn around, shutting the door behind you. “I don’t actually know what to make,” you admit. 

“I can tell,” Brock laughs. “What are the options?”

“Whatever is in the fridge,” you tell him, gesturing to it. 

Brock slides off the stool, walking across the kitchen to pull the fridge open. His eyes scan the shelves for a few minutes before slowly turning towards you. “Do you need me to go to the grocery store for you tomorrow or something?”

Rolling your eyes you push yourself between Brock and the fridge, your back pressing against him as you join him in staring into the nearly empty fridge. “Look, I know it’s bad but I didn’t plan to stay more than a night or two.”

“And were you planning on only eating eggs and spinach for three days?”

“Maybe,” you hum. “I didn’t plan to have dinner guests I would need to impress.”

“You don’t need to impress me,” Brock whispers, his hands falling to your hips. “Now will you agree to come have dinner at my place instead?”

Your mind tunes in to the feeling of Brock’s hands on your body, your heart hammering heavily in your chest. While you were so caught up in your thoughts you realized you hadn’t answered the question within a length of time that was even remotely normal. “Uh, yeah, sure, that sounds good.”

Brock steps back, his hands falling from your hips and leaving your body longing for more. Sighing to yourself you fish a bottle of wine out from otherwise bare fridge, hurrying after Brock. 

It’s not long before you’re standing next to Brock, a glass of white wine in your hand while you watch him barbecue a couple steaks. “Was inviting me over just a scheme to get me to feel bad for you and cook you dinner?”

“I wish I was that calculated.” Bringing your glass to your lips you take a small sip, gravitating a little closer to Brock. “I like how this worked out though.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Brock teases, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. 

You let out a shaky breath, fingers clutching tighter onto your wine glass. With your heart racing you try to act natural, like your stomach wasn’t absolutely alive with butterflies, like your thoughts weren’t racing a million miles an hour about nothing but Brock. 

“You okay?” Brock asks, the smirk on his face was enough to tell you that he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

“Fuck off,” you laugh, shaking your head. “You’re so used to this aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Brock laughs, eyebrows furrowed as he looks away from the barbecue to turn his attention to you. 

“Tall, handsome hockey player who can get women to absolutely fall apart like it’s nothing,” you tease. 

“I’m not that tall,” Brock comments, pulling the steak off the barbecue. 

“Oh, but you know how handsome you are.” 

Brock gives you a simple shrug, chuckling as he picks up the plate of steak, letting you go to head back inside. Rolling your eyes you follow Brock back into the house, refilling your wine glass before leaning against the counter. 

“I’m actually surprised you don’t have a girlfriend,” you comment, watching Brock plate up the steak and salad the two of you had made earlier. 

“Why’s that?” Brock asks, setting the plates down on the table next to the large window that overlooks the lake. 

“I just told you why outside, you just want to hear me talk about how great you are,” you joke, sitting down at the table across from Brock. 

“Well I could say the same thing about you,” Brock retorts, switching the conversation around onto you. 

“Because I’m a tall, handsome hockey player?” you joke, taking another drink from your wine. 

Brock shakes his head with a breath of laughter. “Seriously, weren’t you with someone for quite awhile?” 

Nodding slowly you inhale deeply, polishing off what was left in your glass of wine. 

“That bad, hey?” Brock asks, reaching for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. 

“No…I mean, yeah, I guess, I don’t know,” you sigh, picking up your newly refilled glass. “We were together for three years in university.”

Brock nods, taking a bite of his dinner, evidently waiting for you to continue to fill in the details of your vague story. 

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you assure him with a breath of laughter. “I’m just glad it ended when it did.”

“For what it’s worth I’m pretty glad it ended as well.”

Scoffing you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head. “Why?” you ask, already well aware of why. 

“Well I don’t think I’d get to be sitting here having dinner with you right now if you were still with him.”

Tipping your head to the side you gaze across the table, a soft smile on your lips. “Does that mean there’s something more than friendly happening here, Brock?”

“I’ve had some more than friendly thoughts,” Brock admits. 

You can feel your cheeks reddening, looking down at the table. “Oh,” you mutter. 

“Sorry, I, was that too much or-.”

“No, no,” you interrupt, breathing out a nervous laugh. “Just, um, been awhile since I’ve flirted with anyone.”

“There’s no way that’s true.”

“Yes it is,” you exclaim, laughing quietly. “I honestly don’t meet a lot of new people and I don’t usually make it a habit of flirting with my friends.”

“I’m glad you made an exception.”

Laughing softly you pick up your glass of wine, taking another sip, enjoying the warm buzz the alcohol was filling you with. “Me too,” you whisper as you set it down, gazing over at Brock. 

Finally you two finish the dinner that had been nearly forgotten amidst the conversation. After the dishes are done you head out onto the deck to continue your conversation. Before long the sun is set and the bottle of wine is empty. After another goodbye that you know won’t be for long you head back to your own house, falling asleep easily to the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore through the open window. 

The next few days leading up to the weekend feel busier than any days you had in a long time. After work you would join Brock for some activity or another. A trip into town to properly stock your fridge. An evening on the boat. More paddle boarding and kayaking and even partaking in a couple sessions in Brock’s home gym. 

And before you knew it you had finished up your work from the week, time seeming to be flying by now that you were spending it with Brock. 

Friday night. You hadn’t expected your Fridays to remain as exciting after leaving the city. But you also didn’t expect to be spending it with Brock and a handful of his friends. 

“Still impressed with your Spikeball skills, to be honest,” Jack says, standing next to you by the fire, a bottle of beer in his hand. You had spent the afternoon fighting to keep up in many competitive rounds of Spikeball on the beach, something you did better than even you had expected you would do. 

“I’m kind of offended by how much you underestimated me,” you laugh. Lifting your red solo cup filled with tequila and grapefruit soda wincing at the flavour, the ratio of tequila to mixer so off it would make a bartender cry. 

“Sorry, I promise I won’t do it again,” Jack chuckles. “I’ll make sure we’re always on the same team from now on.”

“Good,” you say, extending your hand to shake his on the agreement. “We can be a power duo.”

“Power couple,” Jack comments with a smirk. 

Rolling your eyes playfully you take another gulp of your drink. “Pretty bold of you.”

“What can I say? I’m a bold guy.”

Before you can get another comment in you feel a hand run along your lower back, stopping on your waist. With a slight flinch you turn your head, body relaxing when you realize it was Brock, though you were still a little surprised by the physical contact. Brock places his fingers under your chin, tipping your head back so you were looking up at him. You don’t even have time to process what’s happening before he’s pressing a soft and quick kiss to your lips. 

“H-hi,” you stammer, voice soft as your cheeks redden. “What, um, what’s going on?”

“Just coming to check on you,” Brock whispers. 

“Shit, sorry man,” Jack mutters to Brock, nervous eyes shifting back to the fire you were all standing around. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Brock tells him dismissively. “Want to come with me to get another drink?” Brock asks you. 

With a quick nod you let Brock take your hand in his, guiding you around the fire and up into the quiet cabin. 

“Okay, what the fuck was that, Brock?” you exclaim, now in the privacy of the kitchen. 

“I-,” Brock begins, shaking his head. “Have I been reading this wrong? I thought…I thought…haven’t we been flirting since you got here?”

“I mean, yes,” you exhale. “But what the fuck was that? Why’d you choose that moment to kiss me?”

“I’m sorry,” Brock mumbles, swallowing heavily. “But you two were flirting and I didn’t want to lose you and I-.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him.” Stepping closer you reach up, your hands on either side of Brock’s face. “You have to trust that I would never do anything with your friends.” Rolling forward onto your toes you lean closer to Brock, your lips brushing against his. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Brock mutters before kissing you again. It’s longer this time, your lips moving with his as you wrap one arm around his shoulders. Brock runs one hand around your back, tugging your body closer as his tongue brushes against yours. He’s pushing you against the kitchen counter a second later, your head spinning with the mix of overwhelming emotions and the effects of the tequila. 

A strangled moan emanates from your throat just before you hear the crashing of the cabin door closing. Pulling back from Brock you stare up at him with a guilty smile, as if you were still just a couple teenagers sneaking around at the summer cabin. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Sam declares, taking a step back towards the door. 

“No, no, you’re good,” you assure him. “We were just, um, about to head back out.”

“Were we?” Brock asks, voice quiet as he places his hands on your hips, pulling your back into his chest. 

With a quiet giggle you tip your head back, looking up at Brock. “We can pick his back up later,” you assure him. 

Back outside you let Brock pull you onto his lap on one of the chairs around the fire. You knew it was some drunken, misplaced desire to exert the fact that there was indeed something happening between the two of you that was more than just friendly. 

The rest of the night is spent in loud conversations, rambunctious laughter echoing off the still lake. By the time the night is over and people begin trickling off to head inside you’re more than ready to have some time alone with Brock.

“I’m going to head home now, want to walk over there with me?” you ask Brock before standing up.

“Yeah, of course,” Brock replies taking your hand and walking back to your cabin. 

Inside you take Brock’s other hand, tugging him closer. “Do you want to spend the night here?” 

“Yes,” Brock replies quickly before pressing his lips to yours again, kissing you with an eagerness that you quickly matched. 

Before long the two of you had stumbled your way up to your room, the silence of the cabin being interrupted by the sounds of your moans.

Laying breathlessly next to Brock, your body flushed and tired, you can’t help but begin to worry about the implications of the situation. Was this just because you were both drunk? Did he really have feelings for you or was this all just because of the alcohol? 

After tugging some pyjamas on and using the bathroom you crawl back into bed with Brock, resting your head on his shoulder, arm over his chest. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course,” Brock hums, running his fingers along your back. 

“Do you, um…was this, I just,” you stammer, finally pulling yourself away from him, sitting up and staring across the dark room at the slice of moonlight that was shining on the wall through the curtains. “Was this just a meaningless hook-up? Because I actually have feelings for you,” you admit. 

You feel Brock run his hand along your back, fingers curling around your waist as he tugs you back to lay next to him. “No, it wasn’t,” he assures you, kissing your temple before you settle in next to him. “I was so into you when we were growing up. Every summer since high school I’ve hoped you would show up again.”

“I don’t believe you,” you giggle. “I had the biggest crush on you back then, you can’t steal my story,” you tease. 

“Back then?” 

Rolling your eyes you reach over and take his hand, squeezing it gently. “Still do.”

“Good,” Brock chuckles. 

And just like that the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that quickly turns to a deep sleep. After that first night together the two of you grew closer, no longer just spending the days together but the nights as well. 

Every morning you would wake up next to Brock, often going for a walk with the dogs before you would have breakfast together. Then you would spend the majority of the day working at your place. After you were done your work for the day you would head over and join Brock for dinner. 

For the next month and a half everything felt easy and fun. The daily stress you normally felt when you were back at your apartment had almost dissipated entirely. You grew closer and closer with Brock, falling more and more for him with each passing day. Time had begun to slip by faster and faster, till the majority of the summer was now in the past and you were getting closer and closer to the day where the cabins would be shuttered as everyone returned to the real world. 

Laying on your couch you stare out through the large window at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. The summer was coming to an end whether you wanted to admit it or not and the grey sky was doing its part to remind you of that. Brock’s car was already packed, his place was tidied and ready for his departure. 

You have your head on Brock’s chest, your arm draped over his stomach. He’s running his hand along your back and with each passing second you begin growing closer to tears. You didn’t want to admit how much it felt like your chest was being ripped apart.

Sniffling quietly you try to blink away the tears in your eyes before Brock could notice. But you weren’t as secretive as you had hoped. “Are you okay?” Brock whispers.

Nodding you lift your head from his chest, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Brock assures you, waiting for you to go on.

“I just don’t want this to end,” you admit. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t either.” Brock wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” you mumble, shuffling in your seat to face him. Taking one of Brock’s hands in yours you give it a quick squeeze, glossy eyes staring across the small distance between you and Brock. 

“Because I never meant to hurt you.” Brock reaches over, brushing away a few of the tears that had spilled from your eyes onto your cheeks. 

“You didn’t mean to hurt me, Brock. I know you didn’t,” you assure him with a quick sniffle, eyes gazing down at your interlocked fingers. “I would rather be hurt now than to never have had this summer with you.”

Brock leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I just wish we had more time.”

“Me too,” you whisper, lifting your eyes to look back up at him. “Maybe we can next summer.”

Brock nods slowly, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Next summer,” he echoes as a tear slides down your cheek no longer caring enough to wipe them away, no longer fighting the sadness in your heart. Because the pain was going to happen whether you wanted it or not. But maybe, just maybe, the promise of next summer would be enough to help you deal with the sadness. 

[strawberryfairi]

“I loved you then…back when I knew you”

Synopsis: 💎 When your old high school best friend, and admittedly, first love randomly shows up at your door one morning after a bit over ten years apart, your memories of him that you once locked away comes flooding back. Are you open to hearing him out after all this time? (In other words…will you take your man back or nah?)

♕Pairings: Kazutora X Black Fem Reader 🤎 (ANYONE CAN READ)🛑Content: 18+ Eventual smut, Some grief, Some angst ~Crossposted On: Wattpad ONLY ~Updating WEEKLY

w.c. 3.4k💠 Released March 29, 2024

NOTE🧚🏾‍♀️: Omg finally y'all we made it to the present!!!! This chapter is literally what started the entire idea of this story so I'm so excited! Also just a pre-warning/disclaimer THERE WILL BE MOMENTS OF SMUT FROM THE PRESENT ON! But of course...I'll have chapter warnings so never fear.

Previous | Next Chapter: Pending…. Chapters Masterlist

CHAPTER 10; THE PRESENT

The Present Recap

"Hi, I-

Whatever sentence you had come up with in your head instantly evaporated. You stood completely frozen, heart racing. The door was only open just a bit, but you immediately recognized the face in front of you.

He stood there, eyes wide, lips slightly parted just like you. You blinked rapidly as nine thousand different emotions and thoughts coursed through you.

"Hey, it's-...it's been a while." His tone was so soft, so cautious.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾

"-it's been a while."

You stand there, your mind still trying to determine if this was really who you thought it was standing in front of you. The big, honey brown eyes, the tattoo, the earring, even the voice all was nearly the same.

"It's..been a while?" You question, your brows raised as if you genuinely heard him wrong. Instantly, his eyes avert downwards, feeling too nervous and honestly ashamed to hold your gaze. He didn't want to admit it to himself but part of him saw this coming. It was beyond foolish to think you'd just jump into his arms with a wide smile as if nothing happened; as if no time had passed.

"You disappear for a literal decade and some months, then you just randomly show up at my door talkin' 'bout "it's been a while"?!" You spoke in a bewildered and slow tone, your right hand resting against the door while the other animatedly helped you express your feelings. Mind-blown couldn't even begin to cover the way you were feeling inside right now.

It's not like you weren't relieved or even a little bit happy to see him, it's the way he just decides to casually pull up on you out of nowhere that's the problem. Not only that, it's also the pitiful, puppy-dog look of complete hope and nervousness on his face that's slightly pissing you off for reasons you can't really explain.

"I know, I-I didn't wanna be away from you for this long, but-

"Oh, you didn't want to be away this long?! If you didn't wanna be away you simply would not have left, like, I'm confused." You cut him off, whole attitude skyrocketing by the second.

"It wasn't by choice! I never woulda left you on purpose!" He spoke desperately, grabbing onto your free hand. Your eyes widened, looking down at his hand holding yours like a ghost was touching you. It sure felt like it given the current situation. "It wasn't by choice?! You literally came to me and said you wouldn't see me again!" You argue.

He sighed deeply, instantly taking note of your reaction, letting your hand go and looking into your eyes with the most sincerest expression he could muster. "Look, I'm sorry I messed up back then, I really am! I know you're still pissed at me, but I want you to know I genuinely miss you." His eyes searched yours desperately, trying to capture even the faintest hint of happiness to see him. He was getting worried, scared that you wouldn't forgive him, or even at least hear him out.

His words immediately had an affect on you, utterly shocking you that he's being so open and honest. You clenched your jaw, feeling more annoyed that he was getting to you as he always would just like back then. It'd be a lie to say you weren't glad he missed you just as you had missed him all this time. "Get your stupid ass in here." Your voice shook with emotion as you grabbed a fistful of his olive colored shirt, pulling him into your apartment. His eyes widened as he stumbled inside rather ungracefully. A wide smile instantly spread across his face, taking it as a sign of great progress that you allowed him to come into your place.

"I-..there's so much I've been wanting to tell-

"Hush up with all that, now you listen here", You glare sternly, cutting him off with a finger to his chest. "I'm very, very upset with you. How you just gon' show up at my home like this outta nowhere?! You left for ten whole years-I'm still not even understanding how you found my apartment! I ain't get no explanation, nobody told me nothin'! It was like days, then months, then years! I had to just go on like, 'oh ok, he doesn't care about me anymore, we must really not be friends anymore'." You ranted, starting to tear up a bit. Kazutora stood there with a broken expression, trying to gather his own words so he could finally explain himself. "You have every right to be upset with me; I messed up big time. I was young and dumb, I just-...I ended up getting myself into some deep shit, but I want you to know you've been on my mind for the past ten years. That's why I came to find you!"

You stayed quiet, your expression softening just the tiniest bit at his words. Kazutora took it as a good sign to continue. "You never deserved how I treated you, and you definitely didn't deserve for me to leave without any explanation. You were the only friend I ever needed; honestly."

You shook your head, your expression going right back to how it was previously. He'd rubbed you the wrong way again.

"You didn't act like I was the only friend you needed! The night before you disappeared you just hit me with the whole 'I might not see you again' thing, and I really thought maybe you'd come back, or text, or something, but I deadass did not see you again!" You ranted, brows furrowing while you frown, taking a step back from him. Kazutora frowned, the memories of that night flashing through his mind. He made the biggest mistake of his life that night, deciding to walk away from you and go through with that fight against Toman.

"You're right. I-..I was just-...I should've stayed with you! None of this would've happened if I'd just stayed with you, but I couldn't. I got myself too deep in this situation with a rival gang at the time, and ended up hurting you. I just really didn't want you to know about it 'cause I was scared you'd hate me, and then leave me for real." His tone lowered by the end, eyes looking to the side vulnerably.

"Kazutora..." You trailed off, facepalming with an exasperated sigh. He was scared you'd leave him?! You were probably the only person that was ever truly down for him back then!

He sighed defeatedly. "I know. You probably think I'm messed up, but you gotta believe me, I really do miss you. I wanna make up for everything." He pleaded, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

"I don't think you're messed up, I think you're a fool, as per usual." You grumbled yet your tone was slightly playful, raising a brow as you pursed your lips at him before continuing. "You know, I'd always think about you. Even in college when I was in a whole new world, you still made your way into my head." You admitted, looking away from him shyly. His eyes widened, heart warming at the fact that you still bothered to think of him. "You really still thought about me; all this time? I figured you moved on by now and forgot all about me."

"Don't get me twisted, I wanted to. I wanted to forget you 'cause I was so mad and hurt that you left me, but I really couldn't, just like right now. I wanna be pissed and maybe even slap you right now, but I can't 'cause I care about you." You explain softly, looking at him with mixed emotions. "I care about you, too! I've thought about you every day and night! That's why I came back for you, to make things right between you and me." His tone was soft and sincere, grabbing both your hands in his as he stepped closer to you.

"Please don't back away..." He added, looking down at you with sparkling, puppy-like eyes. "Are you really trynna be cute right now?!" You question slightly shocked, narrowing your eyes halfheartedly. Even though you still had your guard up, you didn't bother to pull away from him this time. "I mean..." He lets out a nervous chuckle, not really sure how to respond. "So, you really thought about me..day and night?" Raising a brow you looked at him skeptically, warming up to him just a tad more.

"Yeah, I swear! When I ended up going to prison...I decided once I got out I'd come find you. It took me a while because, I'm not gonna lie I was terrified to face you, but I'm here now. All I wanted to do was make up for how I acted towards you back then; I wanted you to realize I never once forgot about you."

"Mmhmm." You pursed your lips, trying not to come across as moved as you really felt by that. "I know you won't forgive me right away, probably, but I just needed to see you. I want to show you I can still be a good friend to you. Uhh, so...do you mind if I stay here for a bit today? Just so we can catch up? It took a lot for me to come here. You can keep being mad at me later, ok?" He pleaded, giving you the sweetest, most charming smile he could muster. You knew you weren't strong enough to make him leave, honestly you really didn't want him to.

"Ok...fine." You nod, tone soft. "Let's sit on the couch for now." You add, gesturing to the living room. Kazutora followed behind you, discreetly checking out your apartment before he sat next to you, making sure to maintain a distance that wouldn't annoy you. He figured he'd been playing his cards pretty well for now, he just had to keep it going then maybe you'll be more warmed up to him, and maybe you'll wanna be friends again. "So, you were in jail this entire time? Do I...wanna know why?" You question cautiously, looking at him with a worry-filled expression. His face fell, a mixture of shame and discomfort. "No, but...you probably deserve to know." He sighed.

"What happened?" You murmur softly, turning to face him on the couch now. Your heart started racing just a bit out of anxiousness to hear his side of this story. Ten years is a long time, so obviously this wasn't just any old crime. "Well the day after our.."fight" we had, Valhalla got into a brawl with this other gang called Toman. I used to be a part of Toman a really long time ago, but some things went down so I left. To make a long story short, I-..I ended up killing one of Toman's members; one of my best friends."

Your brows furrowed, looking at him in full out concern. The silence was loud and hovered heavily in the room. Kazutora casted his gaze downward at his hands folded in his lap, too ashamed to really look at you anymore. He never wanted you to actually know about why he was gone all this time, but he knew you had to know. If he was going to be friends with you again he knew he had to be fully open and honest with you, unlike last time. "I-...I really don't know what to say, I mean, it definitely explains why you were gone. Did someone force you to do it? Was the fight that bad?" You questioned cautiously. You weren't sure if asking about those things would be too painful for him. "No, no one forced me." He muttered, eyes still downcast. That was all he had to say for you to understand.

"Are you scared of me now?" He frowns, his tone completely defeated as he turns his head slightly towards you. "I-..I mean, I'm not sure. It seems like you regret it and don't want to do something like that again. Is that true?" You question, leaning over to try and meet his gaze. "Yes, I'd never do anything like that again, honestly. It was a huge mistake and I regret it to this day. Most importantly, I'd never hurt you, ever." Finally he met your eyes, looking at you with a serious, highly sincere expression.

"There goes the Kazi I know. I know you wouldn't hurt me, I just wanted to hear you say it." You smiled softly, placing your left hand over his folded hands. A small gasp escaped his lips, shocked that you remembered that nickname for him from way back, and even more shocked that he's actually hearing you say it now. "I should probably tell you now that I'd forgiven you a long time ago. I don't hate you, and I'm not holding any kind of grudge against you. It was just a lot of emotions over the years that came to the surface after seeing you all of a sudden." You explain. "And...I've missed you; a lot." Your voice shook, eyes quickly build up with tears and slightly blurring your vision.

Kazutora doesn't even bother to say anything, and without hesitation he wraps his arms around you in a deeply affectionate hug. Instantly, you wrap your arms around him, reciprocating the same level of emotion. His head fell on your left shoulder while he squeezed you, trying to get as close as possible. This is the first hug he's experienced in years, the last one he received being from you as well. It didn't even feel real having his arms around you, as this was something he'd only ever been able to dream of. It was real now, and your embrace was even more comforting than before, even more special.

"Can you please say that again?" He asks desperately in a quiet voice. "I really missed you, K." You repeat with a warm smile. He felt you lean your head against his as you spoke, making his heart strings pull in his chest. Small, hot tear droplets were falling from his eyes before he even realized it. "I missed you so much too. I don't wanna be away from you again." He murmured into your shoulder, slightly muffled by your top, but you still understood perfectly.

"Noo, don't cry, you're gonna make it worse!" You whined, nuzzling your head into him as your own tears began spilling down your cheeks. Your right hand lifted to gently stroke his hair, trying to calm him down so you could regain your own composure. It seemed you were only making it worse though, as his body lightly shook in your arms.

"Ok..." You murmured, feeling him rest his full weight onto you, pushing you backwards on the couch and into a laying position. The memories were invading your mind while in this nostalgic position. A few times he'd come to your place solely for you to comfort him just like this when he was upset about something, running your hands through his hair until he'd fall asleep on top of you in this same way. You briefly took your hand away from his hair just to wipe your own eyes, finally calming yourself, before going right back to soothing him.

"'M sorry." He mumbled, rather cutely in your opinion. "You're alright, K." You smile softly. "But look at this, your hair is so long now! I just noticed." You change topics, trying to get him calm. "Mhm." He nodded weakly with a little sniffle, making you chuckle lightly. He's still just a big baby, exactly like back then. "I like it, a lot, and you still have your blonde highlights." You add, continuing to stroke his hair gently. "Mhmm." Kazutora sighed blissfully, relaxing more onto your chest, no longer shaking from crying. Your voice was so soothing and soft, something he still loves to hear to this day. You've always been the only person to get him so calm and tranquil when he's upset. The only person that could soothe him to sleep.

"By the way, you're way heavier than before, K. Lowkey strugglin' down here." You let out a strained chuckle, tapping the crown of his head. He let out a little disappointed groan, clearly not wanting to move from his comfortable spot, but he gets up nonetheless. Hesitantly he pulls himself away from you, lingering just a little as your hands slide off of his head.

"I was actually just in the middle of making tea and stuff, do you want anything?" You offer, standing from the couch while gesturing towards the kitchen. Kazutora knew it would sound cheesy if he said it out loud, but he didn't want anything except you in this current moment. Nonetheless he nods anyways, accepting anything he can get from you in this moment. "You still like tea, K?" You call from the kitchen. "Of course! I like anything you make." He says plainly. Your cheeks heat up a little, feeling a bit caught off guard by that statement. He comes over and joins you in the kitchen, trailing into the room like a lost puppy. He really hasn't changed at all, it's so cute.

"You know what? It's something I wanna show you after we have breakfast!" You beam, remembering something from a long time ago. You were sure he'd remember too once he sees it.

💎

With an excited smile, you lead Kazutora to your bedroom by his hand. It took everything for his heart not to burst out of his chest at the way this looked. You were still, to this day, the only girl whose bedroom he's ever set foot in. "Ok, here's my room! I'm really proud of the design." You beam, just as you opened the door. It was a girls room that's for sure, and cute just like you. The room was luxurious looking though it wasn't an enormous space. Crystal bedside lamps in a warm light sat elegantly on either side of the queen sized bed. Instead of a TV, you had a projector that shined a white light against the wall opposite of the bed. Speaking of the bed, instead of facing forward you had it to the side.

He already knew why, you love beds being against the wall so you had something to put all your pillows against. It was just more cozy to you than both sides leading to the floor, and after he'd spent so much time lying with you, he understood why you loved it so much. The walls were a neutral champagne color, the furniture being used for the accent color. Vibrant pink which was different from before. Your favorite color was blue back then, he figured it must have changed over time. "You just gon' keep standin' there? Come inside!" You chuckle, pulling on his hand and bringing him over to your bed. "Wait here, I gotta get it from the other room." You say, speeding out of the room and out of sight. Kazutora truly felt like he was dreaming. He was really here, sitting on your bed, in your apartment.

"Ok, I'm back!" You pop your head in with a goofy smile.

"That was fast." He chuckles.

"Look what I got!" You jump into the room, holding out that stuffed bunny he won you all those years ago. Kazutora's jaw drops, looking between you and the bunny in shock.

"You-...you still have that?!" His tone is quiet as he speaks.

"Mmhmm! I ended up naming her Mimi!" You beam, snuggling your face into it as you rejoin him on the bed. "I remember...how happy I was that night." You add in a soft voice, looking down at your bunny as you fiddle around with it's frilly red dress. Kazutora's heart skips at your words. Something about the way you said that made him wonder which parts of that night made you most happy. "I was happy that night too."

"Remember we went on that one rollercoaster together? I couldn't believe you'd never been on one before that." You chuckle lightly, finally making eye contact with him. Ohhh yes, that was one crazy ride. Neither of you realized it was the kind that stops right at the top, dangling all the passengers before finally dropping down the tall slope. "Yeaaah! That was so much fun! And those characters that'd chase us around the park; I remember that too!" He beamed, a wide smile on his face.

"I think...my favorite part of that night was when we all went to the haunted house. Remember that?" You murmur cautiously, your eyes fixated on his face to see his reaction. His face breaks out into a deep blush, eyes slightly widening as he recalls what happened specifically in the haunted house. He swallows nervously. "Uhh, I-I remember." He stutters cutely. You giggle lightly to yourself. That was just the response you were hoping for.

"Good. I would've been mad if you didn't." You joke, nudging his side playfully.

"I haven't forgotten a single memory with you..." He admits, his tone much softer than he intended.

[listwjanka]

Dig Deeper

When I was a young boy, I had a tough time making friends. Mother always said that it's important to have friends, but the other children swerved around me like I was roadkill.

I think they suspected something. Like, children are attuned to the spirit world, it's always in the movies. The kids get possessed by ghosts and demons because they're more sensitive to it, like dogs are. I think they sensed that I have no soul.

As far back as I can remember, it's always been just mother and I. Once or twice I asked about my father and she grounded me. She didn't usually drink alcohol, but she did whenever the topic came up. It's not something she ever talked to me about, like she thought I wouldn't be able to tell that she was drunk during her prayers or that I wouldn't see the bottles. Her big, wet doe eyes would always cloud over when she was drunk, like an unlit room. Maybe she just didn't care if I knew.

We lived in a two bedroom house, slightly off the end of the road. It broke the symmetry of the neighbourhood. Mother said it was because the house was older than the rest of the street, that she'd inherited it from her mother who inherited it from her father and so on.

Once I had a classmate over for a school project - always hated those - and he was a huge bitch about it. He kept asking if it was my grandma's house, complained about the musty smell and how the Holy Marys were all staring at him. It's true, there were a lot of portraits, statuettes, icons and such of Holy Mary around the house, on desks, shelves, walls. If you took a piss on the floor, a stray droplet would inevitably hit some sort of catholic iconography, that's how many there were. That and crosses, rosemaries and books and bibles too old for me to care about. I asked him if there's houses without all this stuff. He looked at me really weird, I can still remember that, and just put his head down to work on his part of the project.

His father was waiting in the parking lot for the entirety of his stay.

While we did have television at home, I couldn't always watch because of mother. Usually I was only able to catch the night program when she was asleep. So most of the time I would be out back in the woods.

The town was like a secluded island surrounded by a wooden ocean. There was a highway that ran straight by, but it didn't make much of a dent in the forest's density. If you had a really bad sense of direction, you could easily get lost there.

I have a lot of memories of that forest.

When I was eight, I caught Mrs. Martens, my PE teacher, having sex with an older student. He was one of those stupid high school meatheads so I didn't think much about it. I don't know how old Ms. Martens was at the time, all adults are really fucking old when you're eight. I knew to hide behind a tree and not draw any attention to myself, so I just stood there unblinking until they were finished.

The same year I found a whole deer skeleton. I don't know how I missed it before, but it laid in perfect serenity on autmun leaves. Its bones were clean-picked and slightly green from moss or lichen that had begun to grow as nature worked to reclaim its due. The hooves though, the hooves still had a ring of that soft, yet firm fur around them.

When my fingers touched that fur, I felt an intense longing, strong enough to etch itself into my brain, a mark fresh even all those years later. To touch something that had long since died, but was still tethered to the world of the living, by the faintest of threads - how death impresses itself upon the living, how it impressed on me, and let me feel something for once. I felt a fire behind my eyes.

I mentioned the deer skeleton at school. I was so enamoured with my find that my bet was, surely the other kids would be too.

Most were grossed out that I'd touched the hooves and even took one home. They started screeching when I showed them that I had it in my pocket.

Others were less squeamish and liked the story and my souvenir, but insisted that I probably put the hooves in my mouth and licked the bones because my family is poor, whatever sense that was to make. When I asked why I would do that, one of the boys stepped forward, knocked on my forehead and asked "Anyone home? How are you this ret***d?"

So I didn't show anybody my skeleton, but the school called my mother to voice their concerns over my behaviour. At home, she made me throw the hoof into the garbage and beat me with a belt until we were both crying.

After that, I stayed away from the forest for a long while and stopped talking to any classmates for good. There was this impassable barrier that everyone felt, but could not break through. Some of my teachers would, every once in a while over the years, gently knock from the other side and talk at me about someone who could help me. When I refused, they would call my mother, who refused treatment much less calmly.

When I was 11, mother began taking me to church more often, until we went nearly every day there was service. I never quite got the hang of it or understood what I was supposed to do or feel and just followed mother's motions. She kept insisting that we were going to save my soul, but I had no idea how repeating the same few dozens of verses every day would heal me from the inside.

There was this part of the service where congregation members were to stand up, go to the front and accept the body of Christ, rather a stale, tasteless waffle. You had to do it in a specific way and I didn't care to learn. I don't know or care if I laid my hands wrong, knelt wrong or said the wrong things, either way, the pastor started whispering to my mother after services.

He would say things like "The boy is simple" or "I believe his soul is gravely ill" and my mother would stand there with white knuckles and tears in her eyes, struggling to speak.

We talked less and less the more services we attended together. When I was 13, she stopped making me go. The other boys were preparing for confirmation.

Now it wasn't just my classmates treating me like a leper - it seemed as though ever since my voice had cracked and my limbs elongated like unfurled colons, adults eyed me with hesitation, their words and movements calculated as though handling a snake.

Mother would lock the door when I came home from school. I wouldn't stay home long anyway and retreat back to my childhood sanctuary: the woods.

I'd always bring a pocket knife to take home any souvenirs, any gifts that Nature would give to keep me company. The deer skeleton was long rotten away, but plenty of other friends took its place.

At age 14 around spring, I found a small pond full of frog spawn. The frogs themselves had long left their offspring to fend for themselves. The spawn felt good in my hands and I started crushing the eggs like bubble wrap.

If anyone asked me why, I wouldn't know how to answer. It just happened. Every pop made my bloodflow more audible to my ears. For the first time in years, I could feel the strength in my fingers, the pressure in my eyeballs, the heat of my guts. I wondered how much life was in those tiny gooey balls. Whether my squeezing the wet contents out of them let me absorb their energy. Whether those still-developing creatures felt anything at all. Would they feel anything later? How much sentience could I ascribe to the goop in my hands?

That summer I went to hunt frogs. I saw and understood that they ran away from me, perceiving me as a considerable threat - much like the humans in my life. But they weren't strong enough to fight back and were easily skewered by my pocket knife.

Frogs have such big, lively eyes. People would sometimes tell me my eyes were lifeless and dull. In movies, people would say "There's no life behind his eyes." when describing bad guys or demonic possessions. Maybe, I thought, maybe. Maybe if I dug a little, I could find their souls.

Mother always spoke of souls, so matter-of-factly that it did not cross my mind to doubt her. Until I knew better, I figured souls were much like the other organs - and that they must be quite small, because I never found them in the biology books at the school library.

A frog is much larger than a tadpole or an embryo, I figured, so their soul should be visible somehow. Perhaps it would be small and hard like a seed. Maybe it was more all-encompassing, but very thin like a stretched patch of skin on the inside.

I remembered those frog dissection classes from movies and improvised my own. Its guts weren't nearly as colourful as textbook illustrations had me assume. There were some orange cords nestled in its insides by the leg, an olive-green organ reminiscent of a pinecone seed and what I assume was punctured lungs. The sight made me think of strange european dishes that I saw on the TV sometimes.

Since the body was too tattered to tell much from its shredded insides, I spent the rest of the afternoon hunting for frogs - but I would not find salvation in their tiny corded guts that day. There was no shining pearl, no glowing patch, no tiny seed out of place. Try how I might, I did no find their souls.

The next day, however, something unusual happened: At school, my teachers would comment on my "rosier complexion", how there was a spring in my step, a light in my eyes. I was taken aback - indeed, I was in a much better mood than usual after yesterday's efforts.

After what happened with the deer skeleton, I chose my words more carefully to avoid trouble and said, yes, I had a lot of fun working with my hands yesterday. I said I'd been woodcarving.

The teachers seemed pleased with my inexplicable shift in demeanour. Their words rolled around in my head like lost marbles - there was no space for pleasantries in my insides. No suitable place to stow away marbles behind lightless eyeballs.

I began thinking. Maybe, a frog's soul is fluid? Or maybe it's microscopically small and absorbed into my skin through the fingertips while I was carefully pulling muscle from bone in my search. Maybe, I'd made their life, mine.

It was an invigorating thought. I looked around me and noticed hair fractures developing in the barrier that had barred me from the others for all these years. Maybe I had to work hard, much, much harder than others had to, to break through.

I did take up wood carving. My first attempts weren't good. Then I took one of the myriad of crosses from our house and started mimicking its grooves and cuts, however crudely. I left the finished cross and the emaciated, wooden Jesus nailed to it wrapped in linen for my mother to find.

When she did find it that evening, instead of bolting right away into her bedroom, she sat still at the kitchen table, holding the gift so delicately as if it were a premature stillborn, sobbing quietly. I knelt next to her and she gently ran her fingers through my hair. Her big, wet eyes didn't dare meet mine.

Still, I didn't give up on finding the soul, but I started searching larger animals. I was on to something. The fractures in my barrier were nearly thick enough to break it and I could nearly taste the crisp air of the outside world.

When I couldn't find it in a rat, I searched through a bunny.

When I didn't find it in a bunny, I dug through a cat.

When the cat's body bore no fruit, I set eyes on Prometheus.

Prometheus was a large, black mutt, some sort of sheepdog with big, sharp eyes. He was smarter than his two trash owners combined, so luring him was no easy task. Fortunately for me, he'd also just barely stopped being a puppy and wasn't quite as serious as his older peers.

If any animal in the vicinity had a soul that could be seen with one's bare eyes, it was Prometheus.

I'm sure he was a fighter, a brave boy, but anyone struck with a hardwood plank to the head wouldn't have much time to recover from the impact. He didn't have the chance to make much noise. The woods were silent that night.

Sometimes, I do wish he'd managed to run away - and I don't want to go into any more details out of respect - but as my gloved hands carefully mapped out Prometheus' viscera, his sacrifice was well worth it.

Right there, on his left kidney, was a splendidly white growth, the likes of which I'd never seen in the schoolbooks. In the beam of my flashlight, it seemed to still be alive, to pulsate. It was the size of a rosemary pearl, firm to the touch and still warm, exuding a mist in the cool night air.

Prometheus' soul.

Awestruck, I reverently cut out the kidney and carefully placed it in a ziploc bag. Weeping in total silence, I stared into the great dome of stars above and felt how each and every twinkling light above was the eyes of God looking at me with great love and benevolence. I searched and found. A bloodied lamb, its wool now washed by God's gentle hands, held in a warm carress. You did it. I'm so, so proud of you.

As luck would have it, when Prometheus was found, it seemed that some woodland animals had gotten to him. The hunter said his innards were fully consumed by the time he found the dog and the soft belly flesh torn and gnawed on. God was looking out for me that night, I knew it.

Our school had a Thanksgiving festival that year and I carved wolf and dog figurines out of wood for the occassion. Surprisingly, they sold very well and were well-received. Mother's parish seemed especially taken with my effort - or rather, me. I was ecstatic about my findings and radiated religious enthusiasm. I listened ravenously to their retellings of biblical tales of men who braved great despair and made great sacrifices, only to emerge holy in the eyes of God. I saw myself in those men and could not help but choke up with them over God's boundless grace. For once, mother's eyes weren't so sad but betrayed a great happiness in their hazel warmth and radiance.

I felt connected.

Then Mrs. Martens came over.

She hadn't been my PE teacher in seven years and I had not paid any attention to her in just as long. Her auburn locks were now slightly streaked with silver and she wore a smile that didn't quite reach the rest of her thin face. She said my name as if it were a spell.

"We're so happy to see you getting on with our flock now, dear. Your mother's always been so worried about you, but turns out you're just an artist!"

She leaned in closer. Too close.

"I won't fuck you, Mrs. Martens."

The crowd around the stand fell dead silent. The only sound was the rush of blood in my skull.

I'd never seen someone turn so sickly pale so quickly. The white of her bulging, veiny eyeballs reminded me of the surface of Prometheus' soul.

She started staggering and stammering about how she didn't understand and didn't know what I was talking about. So I explained how seven years ago, she had a student raw her against an oak tree. How she yowled like an alley cat as a boy half her age fucked her from behind and how she sardonically implored him to stay quiet afterwards. How I thought it was disgusting and how I didn't want her near me, lest she touch me like she did with him.

There was a great chaos afterwards and a lot of it is a blur to me. I remember mother grabbing me ere anyone else could, dragged me home and barricaded the door with a musty sofa. We'd never run so fast and I'd never heard her scream like this before.

She screeched about baseless accusations and embarrassment and how she could never show her face outside again. I was deeply confused - wasn't it proper to be honest? Didn't Mrs. Mathers defy God by forsaking her husband, shouldn't her sinfulness be known?

Mother was frothing at her thin-lipped mouth, her skin red and blotchy from the blood pressure building just behind her skin.

"You RE*****D! You GODLESS FREAK! STOP PUTTING HIS NAME IN YOUR MOUTH! YOU'VE RUINED ME! RUINED MY LIFE!"

It hurt. She was very wrong, but it still hurt. I explained how God favoured me. How I found Prometheus' soul in his guts after believing and searching for so long!

Mother stared at me with an ineffale fire behind her eyes, an intensity defying that of anyone I'd ever seen: "You blithering moron; animals don't have souls."

She had to be wrong. Her words split my insides. Was that true? What was I missing? I'd found his soul, right? It was a soul, right? Could I actually make sure? Was I sure? Are you sure?

In those torturous moments, I begged God for guidance - and He answered me with mother's burning stare. Her big, soulful eyes, coals burning in sockets.

I understood that I needed to search once more.

The pocket knife wouldn't cut it this time.

[naoyaslut]

Home Sweet Home

pairings: geto suguru x femreader x OC

synopsis: after years of avoiding home for the holidays, a trip down memory lane turns into an unexpected reunion.

tw - sibcest, manipulation, manhandling, angst, forbidden relationships, slight dubcon, au

wordcount - 4.5k+

a/n: minors do not interact, ageless/minimal blogs caught interacting with my works will be blocked instantly.

The drive up the snowy mountain had been tedious, you absolutely hated it. You were grateful that Dmitri, your boyfriend of two years now had the experience he did driving in the elements. It had been years since you visited home, after high school you never had the time, nor did you make time.

But this time around, you did. You wanted to introduce Dmitri to your mother finally, after years of her asking. He was the loving boyfriend who stole your heart away; and yet never had the guts to bring him home.  There had always been the subtle fear and uneasiness of your older brother being home. The disapproval you could already see in his eyes would be the biggest obstacle.

To make things more problematic, the two of them were already well acquainted with one another.  The fact that you were dating one of Suguru’s friends... closest friends would not go over well.

The introduction went smoothly, she loved him instantly and they got along better than you anticipated. It was nice being home, to see your mother’s smiling face.

After a warm dinner and conversation, the three of you moved into the family room, where Dmitri conversed with your mother about any and everything. They hit it off extremely well, and the two of them took an ample amount of time to get to know each other better.

Your mom absolutely babied him the whole evening waiting on hand and foot and making sure he was comfortable. It was something you always wanted and finally, things seemed to be playing out exactly as you envisioned.

You missed this, all of it. The sense of belonging, the warmth, and the conversation with family. Dmitri deserved this; he had been so enthusiastic.  He wanted to convince your mother that he was absolutely the man for you and that he only had the best intentions.

Smiling faintly, you watched the pair of them chatting by the fireplace as mom gloated about you and your high school days.  How you were such a great athlete, so smart, so beautiful. Every time she’d reminisce about the past, Dmitri would stifle a chuckle giving you a knowing glance out the corner of his eye.  He was hanging on every single word your mother shared with him.

“My son was the same way, they were great kids.” mom said, sighing contently as she brought her hot cup of tea to her lips.

Dmitri’s brows raised in interest at your mother’s admission, his body tensing moderately before relaxing once more.

“Suguru, what a guy.” Dmitri added, lifting a thick brow in your direction.

You smiled apologetically in return; you did not want to explain to your big brother about Dmitri because... well it never came up.  You had not seen Suguru in years. He up and left after high school, and so did you.  Once he was out of the house, you were off to university and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since.

Then again there was the precarious relationship that you had with Suguru before he disappeared. It could best be described as volatile... unnatural even.

As early as you could remember, Suguru had always been protective of you. He was an excellent big brother.  Attentive.  Nurturing.

In high school, he made it impossible for you to have a boyfriend or to get close to anyone of the opposite sex at all.  Two years your senior and the fact that as siblings you attended the same high school, he made sure that no boy ever made a pass at his baby sister.

“You need to focus on your studies before you ever get involved with any of these dogs.”  He’d smile sweetly, obsidian eyes narrowing in suspicion.  “You want to be successful, don’t you, y/n?”

Suguru’s presence in your life was at times prominent all the while overbearing.  But you never hated it.  In fact, at times you found yourself craving it.  Those touches started off innocent and gentle, but over the years developed into something more sinister.  Wrong.  You knew it was wrong, both of you did.

Your heart thumped heavily against your ribcage while your mind wandered, slivers and specks of crude memories clouding your vision causing your breath to pick up.

Sugu-nii…  you- you shouldn’t.

It’s okay, trust me. We love each other, right? You’re precious to me, and I’ll always make sure you know that.

You're not entirely sure what made you give into the logic of big brother knows best, but he did... didn't he? 

Smiling tightly, you clicked your tongue at Dmitri before bringing the mug of tea to your lips.

Blowing the wafting steam away from the hot liquid you spoke rather impassively.  “We’ve been out of touch for years; I couldn’t tell you the last time I saw or heard from him.”

You swallowed down a big gulp of the scorching liquid hoping it would knock some sense into you as it burned on the way down. Keep you from reminiscing about your cloudy past with your older brother.

Truth be told, you thought about him often and wondered what he had been up to. Wondered if he visited mom often or when you would see him next, if ever again. The news of you graduating college hadn’t brought him home nor to your graduation.  Maybe he knew that your relationship was wrong and alienation was his only effort of fixing things.

You won’t lie, after graduation, you’d visited on multiple occasions in hopes to see your big brother.  Tell him how successful you were and how great you did in school thanks to his guidance. The lack of his presence over the years left a gaping hole that Dmitri was able to fill.

Instead of Suguru being the one to reach out, it was Dimitri.  He was the one who looked out for you while you were away... even made the drive to see you more than a few times.  

After years of putting off dating because your onii-chan expected you, you finally found someone who cherished you and kept you warm throughout the cold nights.  Undeniably, you housed some guilt every time you thought about Suguru. But it was well past time to move on, it was clear that he didn’t care enough about you to come back.

It was nearing midnight and your mother bid the two of you goodnight before retiring for the night. 

“Remember… no funny business, please. There are plenty of rooms for the two of you to sleep alone.” Your mother shot you a glare before turning away.  Glared at you, as if you were the problem.

You laughed at your mother’s insistence but smiled nonetheless watching her disappear toward the back of the cabin.

“You heard her, no funny stuff!” swinging an arm around Dmitri’s waist, you guided him to the large sofa on the other side of the room so the two of you could cuddle before heading off to bed.

The television was playing quietly, the fireplace still blazing making the atmosphere comfortable.

“I wouldn’t want to upset your mother; she hasn’t kicked me out yet,” Dmitri complained, sitting down on the sofa which resulted in a slight bounce from the both of you.

Swinging a leg across his lap, you sat on him so that you were facing him and straddling him.

“Are you actually afraid of my mom? That little old lady?” you asked, throwing your arms around his neck, and delving your fingers into the thick of his black hair lightly scraping at his scalp.

You smiled up at him watching the corner of his lip twitch in amusement, those golden eyes of his becoming half-mast as he drank you in.

He repeated his earlier sentiments pulling one of your hands from around his nape and bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it.

“I really want to make a good impression.” He offered, still trying to deter your obvious flirting.

Holding back a giggle, the hand that remained in his hair grasped at the back of his neck before bringing him about an inch away from your face.

“You can make a good impression by screwing your desperate girlfriend,”

Leaning into him you took his lips into your own in an aggressive kiss, guiding his hand down to the waist of your jeans.

Dmitri didn’t hesitate, his fingers fumbling to get the button loose while pushing his tongue in your mouth.  He unhooked the button easily; Dmitri had always been good with his hands...  It was one of the reasons you took a liking to him.

Dmitri was tall and lean from years of playing basketball in college. He kept his hair short and it was inky black a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin.  In ways, he reminded you of Suguru, but his temperament was the complete opposite.  Suguru was pushy, always muscling you into what he wanted, insisting that you wanted it too. 

And Dmitri was always gentle with you; your satisfaction was always his first priority. Shoving his hand past the band of your underwear the pad of his middle finger found that sensitive button between your folds... rubbing slow languid circles eliciting a groan of approval as you rolled your hips into his lap.

Pulling his lips from your own, Dmitri shushed you quietly, that same finger skimming over your slit that was now damp with arousal.

“Shh, don’t get me in trouble,” he rasped while slipping a finger inside of you.

You nearly cried out at the intrusion and then another finger was added as he flexed them against your gummy walls in tandem with the roll of your hips.

“Ah, Dmitri…” Resting your forehead against his you continued to buck against his fingers, the promise of an orgasm not too far off in the distance.

“Shh, seriously you’re going to get us caught..”  Leaning forward, he took your lips captive with his own to silence you, those fingers again curling against that sensitive pallet of nerves causing your thighs to quake in response.

The subtle action brought about the impending orgasm, Dmitri swallowing down every moan and whimper as he allowed you to ride it out on the tips of his fingers.

When your trembling ceased, he pulled away allowing you to breathe. He wore the dopiest grin, eyes hooded with satisfaction despite the heavy erection resting against his thigh.

Leaning your head against his shoulder, you placed a palm flat against his chest nuzzling into him, content. Leaning back to peck him on the cheek you gazed up at him lovingly.

“You’re such a good boyfriend, breaking the rules for me.” Grazing his girth through his pants you let out a startled yelp when he grabbed your wrist effectively stopping you from groping him any further.

“Ah, ah,” he groaned painfully, pulling your hand away, replicating the kiss on the back of your hand from earlier. “No, no, don’t worry about it I’m fine.”

Arching a brow in confusion you tilted your head at him giving a look of disbelief.  For Dmitri to turn down anything from you was out of character.  But then again, maybe he was trying to make a good impression.

“Well come on, let's just go to bed then.”

Sliding off Dmitri’s lap you pulled him toward one of the empty rooms in the cabin. Even though your mom insisted on separate rooms, there was no way in hell you were going to miss out on the chance to cuddle with Dmitri.

To your surprise, he did not attempt to touch you. After a half-hour standdown with one another, he refused to let you touch him. He insisted on respecting the rules your mother laid out for the two of you during your stay.

Eventually, you gave in wrapping him in your arms and not long after falling asleep in his arms like you often did.

You were awakened by a dull banging somewhere within the cabin and managed to squeeze out of Dmitri’s hold without waking him up. You couldn’t pinpoint where the noise was coming from exactly, but it died down moments after you had heard it.

Rubbing your hands together for warmth you shivered in response to the puff of cool air that had risen and then dissipated before you. It was freezing. The fireplace must have died at some point during the night.

Throwing your robe over Dmitri’s long-sleeved t-shirt you were wearing; you made your way downstairs into the living room. To your surprise there was already someone tending to the fire, poking at the glowing pieces of wood to ignite it once more.

Startled, you pulled the robe tighter around yourself staring wide-eyed in surprise at the ravenette that was crouching before the fireplace. It wasn’t your mother; it was a man.

“W-who…”

Eyes of obsidian turned to meet your own and your shoulders slumped in utter disbelief. It was Suguru.

Unsure of how to react, you simply stared, frozen, watching as he stood up to tower over you.

Mom said he hadn’t been around lately; he wasn’t supposed to be here. The silence between the two of you was stifling, to say the least, as he observed you, his face impassive and unreadable.

It felt as if something had seized you by the throat, all the air in your lungs gone in a flurry.  You had to remind yourself to breathe, trying to avoid the prickling sensation of tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

“S-Sugu-nii,” you barely got the words out, but it got a slight empty smile from Suguru.

The tips of his fingertips, chilly to the touch danced along your jaw lightly, to eventually tuck a stray curl of hair behind your ear.

The warmth of his breath on your face sent a chill up your spine and in return, you locked your body as if you were expecting something from him. Your eyes were pleading for something more, but he only turned his back to you and returned to rekindle the fire.

“Mom told me you were in town,” he began, the flame beginning to ignite once more to illuminate the family room. The glow of the flame against his pale skin gave him an almost ethereal appearance while he stared into the flames. “And with a boyfriend at that.”

Ah, so that’s why he was here. Taking in an anxious breath, you turned away from him to head into the kitchen filling up the tea kettle. The clicking of the gas oven turned over several times before a flame finally sprang free from the element.

Sitting the kettle on the stove, you busied yourself with grabbing an empty mug and the chamomile tea that your mother kept up in the cabinet. You didn’t hear Suguru enter the kitchen behind you. The sound of his voice startled you, causing you to throw a furtle glance at him over your shoulder.

“Nothin’ to say about that?” he asked.  His voice had a hardened edge to it, one that you recognized all too well even after all of the years of separation.

He was leaning against the edge of the dining room table, both palms flat against the wooden surface. 

Tilting your head off to the side as if confused you offered him a word or two. What else could you say?

“Yes, its Dmitri.” you started, bringing your attention back to the blue flame heating up the tea kettle. “He’s upstairs sleeping, you should greet him in the morning.”

Kissing the back of his teeth Suguru stood upright, throwing his arms over your shoulders as he leaned into you. His abdomen was solid against your back, the minuscule friction causing a jolt of electricity to shoot up your spine.

“Don’t you miss your big brother, imouto?” he asked, exhaling a warm breath against the shell of your ear.                                           

The water in the kettle wasn’t heating up fast enough.  Your nerves were standing on end a familiar itch developing at the pit of your gut that desperately needed to be scratched. 

Suguru’s body provided a touch of warmth in contrast to the cool air of the dining room and at no point more in life did you want to turn and bury yourself in his arms. But you refrained, you had to stay strong for Dmitri. He was the one who took care of you when Suguru decided to abandon you.

Turning briskly in Suguru’s hold, you stared up into those dark eyes of his to take in his appearance. He stood two heads well over you, his dark hair pooling over the collar of his dark sweatshirt.

You always recalled it being tied back neatly and out of his face, kempt. Now it was wild, longer, and un-styled. He had deep-seated purple bags underneath his eyes that were glossy as if he had been up all night. He looked different than what you remembered, older, and more intimidating.

“I missed you about as much as you missed me, Suguru.” It was meant to be a jab.  Your tone accusatory.

Tearing your eyes away from him you stepped away to walk around him back toward the family room. Before you could stray too far Suguru's hand was solid around your wrist to keep you in the vicinity.

“What? You think I don’t?” he asked, almost incredilously brows pinched together in agitation.

You didn’t fight him; you returned a look of equal annoyance flexing your fingers in his hold before finally pulling away from him.

“You and I both know the only reason you’re here is that I brought someone home,” The heat from the fireplace was finally starting to warm up the place, you were beginning to feel smothered underneath the robe you were wearing. Untying the robe, you sat it on the back of one of the dining room chairs before shifting your attention back to your brother. “You wouldn’t be here if I came back alone.”

There was a long silence between the two of you, the only sound heard was the flame of the stove beneath the kettle. The water was finally getting hot, not quite boiling but it was getting there.

“You couldn’t wait-“ Suguru began, with you cutting into interrupt him.

“Couldn’t wait for what? You’re my brother!”  You could hear your voice beginning to waver under the distress and you lowered your voice before you woke up Dmitri or possibly your mother on the other floor. “I’m getting married Suguru,”

Suguru’s features visibly hardened across from you and without a word he closed the distance covering your mouth with his own. He kissed you hastily, greedily, the warmth of his tongue pushing its way into your mouth.

You tried pushing at his chest albeit weakly as he cornered you against the dining room table. His whole presence was now overbearing. The smell of him, the taste of him, made your knees go weak beneath the assault.

Every ounce of restraint you ought to have possessed was slowly going out the window the more he overcame you.

Finally, he pulled away allowing the both of you a bit of fresh air your eyes were wide and tearful as Suguru stared down at you.

“You’re mine, you belong to me,”

You were upset. You were angry with him. He left you alone for so many years without even so much as a call or a letter, it was as if he were ignoring you on purpose.

Blinking away the tears in your eyes you shook your head pushing at his chest once more.

“No, we can’t- “you pleaded with him, the guilt and shame of being caught embracing your older brother deterring you away from his advances.

Still, he pressed on his left-hand clutching at your nape to pull you close, his mouth smothering your own, while the other reached underneath your shirt shoving your panties aside.

You wanted him to stop, you wanted him to continue all at the same time. His fingers slipped inside of you easily, you were already dripping from the already tense atmosphere that had been present beforehand.

Keening into the warmth of Suguru’s mouth, your thighs parted as if on command to allow him more access.  You knew that you shouldn’t be splayed out like this for your big brother, silently begging him to do more.  To show you that he cares, to want him to be the only person in the room who looks at you, and to fill you completely.

For a second time, his lips separated from yours his middle and index fingers buried within you at the hilt.  His fingers moved in their own rhythm while he hoisted you up on the table so that you were lying flat beneath him while he hovered over you.

His eyes were burning with want, his bottom lip swollen from the way your teeth embedded themselves within the soft flesh.

“I missed you,” he whispered hoarsely, removing his fingers now covered in a shiny layer of your arousal.  Shoving the soiled fingers into his mouth, he pulled them free before shimmying your underwear down and over your thighs.  “And I’m going to prove it to you,”

You were still scared, and doubtful.  Everything that was playing out right now shouldn’t have been happening.  Not while Dmitri was in the house, and certainly not your mother. You barely got a word in as he maneuvered your legs, pressing them harshly against your chest to expose the shining well of slick sitting at the apex of your thighs.

“S-Suguru, someone will hear,” you begged.

“I don’t care,” the words were growled, and his mouth descended upon you, thick tongue nestling itself between your slit to lap up every ounce of you.

Wailing pathetically, you threw your palm over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your helpless moaning.  To feel the warmth of his tongue worshipping you, brought back the nostalgia of feeling the heat and comfort of him from years ago.  He was relentless, lips fixing themselves around your already engorged clit suckling at it greedily. 

The faint clicking of a metal and a zipper brought you out of your thoughts, with Suguru pressing the throbbing flushed head of his erection against your drooling slit. 

Jolting upward to stop him, you pushed at his chest only to have him retaliate with a large palm grasping around the base of your throat.

“Nii-chan, p-please not here,” your voice was strained, slightly hoarse as you felt the girth of him pressing into the constricting wet warmth of your cunt.

Suguru pinned you down against the wooden table as he hovered over you, forcing his hips forward until he was buried inside of you at the hilt.

He sighed in relief before kissing pressing a gentle kiss to your temple and forcing your thighs wide to make more space for him.

“Don’t you want me to show you how much I missed you?”

After wriggling underneath, you became slack your eyes meeting smoldering orbs of obsidian.  The heated look in his eye sent an involuntary shudder down your spine causing you to shift your hips against him at the feel of him pulsing inside of you.

“Tell me… it’s okay,” he groaned against the column of your throat waiting for you to give him permission.

Nodding in silence, you gave him your approval and he rolled his hips tentatively to see gauge your reaction. 

Wrapping your legs tighter around him tighter, you sucked in a long breath upon feeling his hips disconnect from yours in preparation to sink back into your warmth.

He began to rock into you slowly, but there was a force behind it.  Every single time his hips met yours, the table jerked forcing your body forward until your head slung lazily over the edge.

You wanted to touch him, to feel him against you.  The warmth he provided between your legs wasn’t nearly enough.  You’ve missed the touch and feel of him and here you were getting a little taste as his hips slapped against yours almost wildly bringing about a sex-induced haze.

“I missed you, y/n” Suguru continued to groan over you, his hand still in place around your throat while he pushed his hips against yours.  “And you can tell him that, go ahead, tell him.”

Opening your eyes, your head still hanging over the side of the table you opened your eyes to see Dmitri standing in the doorway of the kitchen.  He was leaning against the wall, both arms crossed over his chest both of his eyes dark as he stared into you.

Panic began to set in immediately, both eyes widening in surprise, fear gripping your chest at the actuality of being seen pinned underneath your older brother.  Especially by Dmitri.  

“Suguru, stop!” you gasped, frantically trying to push his much larger form off of you. 

Suguru continued to hold you against the table, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips.  His hips continued to grind against your own, the loud squelching of your combined bodies filling the kitchen. 

“Go on, tell him” Suguru purred in your ear, while his thrusts became almost relentless spurring you towards an orgasm.

You were terrified and confused as Dmitri still stood against the wall emotionless watching as Suguru hammered into you. 

“D-Dmitri…” you whimpered, the knot in your belly tightened with a mix of uncertainty and dread.  The knowledge knowing that Dmitri had been watching you, writhing underneath Suguru a flushed pathetic mess pushed you right over the edge.

Your orgasm washed over you abruptly, a veil of white blinding you while your body convulsed with Suguru still hovering over you.  It took you over so suddenly, that you lost consciousness there on the kitchen table.

Dmitri shook his head at the scene before him before he stood up straight running a hand through his dark hair.  He wanted to say something, but he just couldn’t find the words. The kettle on the stove finally, began to whistle the billowing steam from its nozzle beginning to drift up into the air before dissipating. 

Dmitri walked into the kitchen, hastily removing the kettle from the stove before placing it onto another element to stop its screeching.  Turning his back to his long-time friend, he left the kitchen in silence.

He was the one who agreed to this.  He openly volunteered to keep tabs on one of his best friend’s baby sister.  In the beginning, he pinned Suguru’s obsession on him just being an overprotective older brother.  That he wanted his sister to be with someone that he trusted.  As time passed, it was clear that there was more to it than just an older brother wanting the best for his sibling.  He wanted her to be with someone he could control.  Someone he could keep tabs on.

You can marry her, but just know that she will never love you the way she loves me.

When you awakened, you found yourself wrapped soundly in Dmitri’s arms almost as if nothing happened earlier in the night.  The fireplace was still burning brightly, the room comfortably warm and the television playing almost inaudibly in the background. 

Shifting in Dmitri’s lap, you felt him press a light kiss to the crown of your head before wrapping his strong arms around you just a little tighter.  His breathing was light, you assumed he was just relaxing with you still wrapped in his arms.

Allowing your gaze to roam to the other side of the room, you caught a glimpse of Suguru sitting quietly on the opposite end of the sofa. 

He watched you intently, eyes dark as night swirling eerily with mirth. 

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as he held your gaze, his placid expression curling up into a faint smile at your realization that you were in fact not dreaming.

[yeehawnatalie]

sometimes I think about how marjorie was written about Taylor’s grandmother, and then I think about my own grandma. she’s the strongest woman I know, and everytime I listen to that damn song I can’t help myself from crying. makes me think about how she raised three kids on her own after her alcoholic husband died in a motorcycle crash while they were in high school, battled low finances while being a librarian, gets me and my cousins an ornament every year…. screw this i’m turning this into a grandma appreciation post. i love this woman.

she’s obsessed with disney, she loves mickey mouse and has an entire christmas tree dedicated to mickey mouse ornaments. she also makes the best cookies. every thanksgiving and christmas she makes the turtle cookies with pecans and they’re so good. she lives in a small, somewhat poor neighborhood, but she always makes the most of it and never fails to help me and my mom with anything we need. she texts me every month and never fails to remember my birthday even when my friends do. she writes cards to my dorm because she thinks the cats on them are funny. she took in my uncles dog when he was battling addiction and took care of the dog until the dog died 10 years later. she loves sewing. one of my earliest memories is when she made me a pink fairy costume when I was a toddler for a mall halloween event. she sewed it by hand and i was so freaking proud to show off that costume. she hemmed my pants for a baking competition in high school and helped me to put together my chef outfit. she later helped me alter my senior prom dress and constantly told me how beautiful i looked in it even though my mom kept making remarks about how i needed to lose weight. she would take me to the zoo when my parents worked during the summer. she never had a lot of money, but she would always make sure i was having fun and was well fed. no matter how i was feeling, she was always there to encourage me and congratulate me on anything. when i was accepted to Baylor on a scholarship, she was the first to know. when I accepted my UT application, she invited me over for dinner at her house. she was there when my cat died suddenly and offered support. she came to every theatre performance and choir concert i had, even if my parents didn’t or couldn’t make it. she always comments on my instagram posts no matter what it is. always a “you look amazing!” or “looks like fun!” or “miss you!”. she never misses the chance to be there for me. she lost her husband many years ago, but never remarried. she does all her housework and constantly reminds me i don’t need anyone else to be amazing. she brought me flowers at graduation and told me how proud she was of me. when i used to play volleyball, she would come to every home game and cheer me on. she got me signed books from my favorite authors and even some books ahead of their formal publication date. she buys me cat stuffed animals when she sees them because she knows i love cats. she got me plant pots for my birthday because I had mentioned once how mine were too small. when i was really little, she would run a bath for me and i would play with this really old ship toy in the bath. she used to let me play pretend cook with her tupperware and i would serve her “gourmet beef.” she has this really old green armchair that was tearing, and cried when my family decided to refurbish it as a birthday present. she gives the best hugs and smells like cinnamon and plastic (oddly enough in a good way). she write in cursive and sometimes it’s so loopy i can’t read it. she used to have this really big tree in the backyard and every year during pecan season we would go scavenge the pecans that fell from the tree to make pie. god omg i’m crying rn as i’m writing this. anyways, idk why i decided to write this - i guess marjorie just had me thinking about it today. my grandmothers name is Margaret, and it’s scarily similar to marjorie so it makes me sob everytime. thanks grandma for being amazing.

[naruyuki-writes]

Paw-Paw

        Paw-Paw was my first pet, a part of the family before I was born.  He was one year older than me and when I was born, he watched over me like I was his.  The story starts with my father finding him in the dumpsters behind our house on Florence Avenue.  My father said he was only allowed to stay one night, however I have countless memories of that boy until his death.  Paw-Paw was aptly named as he would paw paw (more colloquially known as ‘making biscuits’) everything, including my mother’s head.  He was a joy to be around and like any younger sibling, I did whatever my older brother did.  I’d eat tuna with him whenever he got it as a treat, I’d sit with him in the spot on the kitchen floor where the sun came through the window, I’d sit with him on the windowsill of our big bay window, and I’d take cat naps with him.  He was my protector and I could never do anything to rile him up enough to play fight with me.  He’d let me hold him for as long as I wanted, he’d chase after the shoe string I dangled behind me as I raced around the house, and while I knew how to treat cats well (because my mother taught me well) I could still get away with being an annoying little kid to him when he would run from any other child who tried the same shenanigans.

        Paw-Paw was a fierce and spirited cat.  When my sister and I were young, our friends’ dog was playing with us but Paw-Paw didn’t see it as playing and beat up the poor unsuspecting rottweiler.  And in his old age, when he heard his brother Chevy barking angrily at another dog he disliked-as the owner just stood there not taking his dog away when ours was clearly upset-he raced outside ready to go berserk on whoever was upsetting Chevy, but was quickly shooed back inside by our mother before chaos broke loose.  When he wasn’t beating up dogs, he liked to sneak around outback when the garage door was open, and disappear for hours underneath the beds and in the basement ceiling.

        Paw-Paw was 17 when he died July 21st, 2017.  I was 16.  Until then, I hadn’t lived a day without him in my life and one day I’ll have lived longer without him.  I’ll carry him with me for the rest of my life, because I’ll never have another cat like him.  His personality was so easygoing.  He was a sweet cuddler, wrapping his arms and legs around my body when I picked him up and following behind when he was called.  He was a troublemaker that escaped all too much and stole far too much food.  He was a lover and a fighter.  And you could always count on him to keep your seat warm when you got up and walked away from it.  Growing up with a cat is a kind of relationship you can never replicate as an adult.  Afterall, he wasn’t my baby, I was his baby.

Prr-Meow, Baby and, Brenda

        Prr-Meow was heard crying outside by my neighbor and mother, wearing a dirty pink collar.  We had a feral and stray cat problem, so presumably he was kicked out by someone around the neighborhood.  I don’t remember the beginning well because when you first meet someone you don’t think they’ll be anything more than a trivial blip in your life.  We started taking care of him and bought cheap kibble for him to eat.  Whenever we fed him he would make all sorts of noises, so I called him Prr-Meow.  Back then,  I was doing high school online so I had time to spend with Prr-Meow.  I remember one rainy Friday I brought a towel outside to sit with him and for a long time we watched the rain together.  By then I was growing attached to him.

        Prr-Meow loved to play and chased the fallen crabapples I threw for him across the yards and chased me through the tall grass.  He began to follow me when I walked around the neighborhood.  He would come with Chevy and I on our walks and sometimes even follow me down the hill towards traffic where the bus stop was.  He was so adamant about following us so far that we’d have to distract him when someone was leaving.

        One day a black cat showed up, hanging around Prr-Meow.  No idea where she came from, but she was skittish unlike Prr-Meow.  She liked Prr-Meow and showed up frequently so we gave her a portion of kibble as well.  Now when I called for Prr-Meow, I would call for the baby black cat too.  I ended up naming her Baby.

        It wasn’t very long until another tiny cat appeared, watching Baby and Prr-Meow from a distance.  The food probably drew her around the area and she seemed to want to befriend the other cats.  She was also skittish, but there was something bolder about her than Baby.  It had to have been around October when we named her Brenda because of the ‘Scary Movie’ series we were watching at the time.  I had all the time in the world to be around these cats, so I spent hours sitting outside with them watching them eat, making myself small and unthreatening to them, keeping eye contact off of them and slowly inching towards them, and any general behavior to gain their trust.  Add the consistent feedings into the equation and in a few months I was petting the girls, so long as the food was around.

        Then we went a couple steps backwards.  We were working on trying to find homes for them, so a neighbor turned us onto this cat lady who helped us trap, neuter/spay, and release quite a few of the strays in the area.  Baby and Brenda underwent the trapping and releasing and while it was good news that they were spayed, they were distraught and distanced themselves from us.  Brenda was slightly more agreeable, especially with Prr-Meow and food around, so she was quicker to warm back up and trust me again.  Baby hadn’t been completely sold on the contact when they were taken, so she took twice as long to regain the trust of.  She didn’t think twice about running away when I got close and when she would let me get close enough she would hiss.  For over a year I had been working on building my relationship with the girls and it was a frustrating and grueling process.  Somedays, Brenda would walk right up to me and Baby would let me get close without running, other days neither of them wanted anything to do with me.  There were plenty of times I wanted to give up, but I persisted because I was already so devoted to them.  After it all, I learned something valuable about cats; the key to opening up any cat’s heart is time.  My grandmother’s old crotchety cat even let me pet her after enough time had passed.  She would hiss and swing at me because she was hurt by children and I was young at the time.  I never gave up on trying to pet her and I was ecstatic the day she finally let me.  I’d say the day that Baby finally let me pet her again, I felt that same glee.

        After a few years Prr-Meow disappeared.  I was heartbroken and called for him for days.  I didn’t know what happened to him and neither did Baby and Brenda.  Once again they distanced themselves.  I think they were sad, too, after all they loved him just as much as I did.  They stuck together and they still came back for food, but for a few months the girls didn’t want to see me and Prr-Meow was gone.  He suddenly reappeared sometime after Christmas and I was so relieved to see him again, but he was different.  Now he was the distant one.  He ran away from me and he was mean to Baby and Brenda.  He didn’t go on walks with us anymore.  He started hanging out around the back of the houses where the forest was.  He didn’t go back there when I took care of him.  It only took a few months to displace him from our family.  The last time I saw Prr-Meow, I had left to walk down to the market and when I came back he was dying on our steps.  I was in shock and in pain and I was angry because the people who had taken him away from us had changed up his routine and ended up letting him back outside anyway and because of their negligence I blame them for his unnecessary death.  I called my family to help me and my father went to the house of the people who had taken him.  I had to go inside because I was beginning to get angry with the man who came out to see Prr-Meow.  We said to take him to a vet so he could be put down, but who knows what that man did.  I don’t know what happened to my boy.  I’ll never forgive those people as we speculate that they tried to steal another one of our cats, Korben, who escaped the house without our knowledge; the next door neighbor let us know he was told about “the new cat they just got.”.  He was gone for a few days, but thankfully it was only a few days before he came back to us unscathed.  Coincidentally that cat was originally found by Prr-Meow.  It was about a week after Paw-Paw died.  He joined Chevy, my mom, and I for a walk and found baby Korben hiding under a car.

        Baby and Brenda are still here and have been under our care for the last 7 or so years.  They’re loved by the family and they love us as well.  I’ll take them for a walk to the hill and they’ll have a little adventure exploring the very top of it.  They’re very expressive.  Brenda will scream her little head off when she’s responding to my calls while Baby is lowkey and chirps her greetings to me.  She is very, however, very intense about plopping on the ground in front of me and rolling around to get as dirty as possible.  Brenda is still the bolder of the two while Baby is still timid.  They both accept and expect plenty of pets and I’m working on getting them comfortable with being picked up and sitting inside for a few minutes to listen to all the normal sounds of being in the house.  I don’t want them to be outside cats for their whole lives, even though the transition inside won’t be an easy one.  The hope is that since they’ll have each other, it won’t be such a traumatic change.  I believe that they’re bonded to each other and wherever one goes, the other must follow; although they don’t spend as much time together as they did when Prr-Meow was around, I can still catch Brenda chasing after Baby every once in a blue moon.  My relationship with all three of them is vastly different from my relationship with Paw-Paw, because they were, are and will forever be my babies.

[beforeyoufall-bk]

Soffy’s Choice

Overcoming Obstacles With a Furry Friend

In poker, they say you forget all the lucky hands you won but will always have a crystal-clear memory of the times you got extremely unlucky and lost big. The same seems to hold true for any obstacles or fears you overcome throughout your life. Because I don't remember all the tv shows I've watched, the games I’ve played, or all the meals together with loved ones... but I do remember my fears.

I was raised in a sheltered middle-class Asian-American home. My father was Chinese, but more American than most men I've ever met in my life. He hunted, fished, and was a consummate businessman. My mother was Filipino and came to America at the age of 12 without speaking a lick of English. Both had very difficult childhoods and were determined to make mine not as difficult.

So, by the age of 11 there were really only two things I was very scared of: animals, and my own body.

The fear of how I looked came when I was around 5 years old and stuck with me until around high school. I was one of the few Asian kids in my elementary school and my best friend was half Japanese who happened to be the thinnest and smallest boy in class. With us often sitting or standing next to one another, I was always the chubby one.

Over time, I eventually conquered this fear, though nothing really ever changed except my expectations for myself and my body. I had faced one of life’s many cruel realities and survived on my own. But for my second fear, I needed help. I needed her.

My fear of animals came from playing baseball during recess in elementary school. The school playground had no fences and any hard-hit balls would enter into stranger's backyards. As fate would have it, almost every one of those yards featured a large dog brooding inside a dark and ominous doghouse.

The scariest one was in left field. A Doberman named Jake who always seemed particularly bothered whenever a frightened young boy was tasked to retrieve a ball from anywhere near his territory.

Years later,(oddly enough, the same year I met Soffy) a movie called The Sandlot came out which had a famous scene of young boys retrieving baseballs while running away from a large menacing dog. Watching that movie with my family and friends had only reinforced my fearful belief that all dogs were a terror to young aspiring ballplayers across the nation.

November 20th, 1993

I carried my fear of dogs with me until winter had finally come. Baseball season was coming to a close and now I faced a new challenge: boredom.

It was a cold November evening at the mall and I was bored out of my mind. My two older sisters had shopped until they were finally ready to drop, and decided to check out the pet store until my mother had expended all of her shopping energy for the night. As for me, I just wandered around the fish tanks for a while, until my sisters saw me and dragged me over to the cats and dogs section. What happened next changed my life.

While the store had plenty of puppies and kittens to choose from, there was one very special puppy in the litter - A West-Highland White Terrier born on June 6th, 1993. This five-month-old white fluffy puffball would not stop staring at me with her playful button-black eyes.

Now by that age, I had seen a lot of different dog’s eyes looking directly at me. Often while I frantically searched for a baseball through tallgrass and weeds. And I had also seen many sets of them in my nightmares. Especially Jake's... But these doggy eyes were completely different.

My sisters chatted on and on about this dog being so adorable, or that dog being so cute. But there was only one puppy who kept staring right into my eyes with such an adorable, innocent, and playful look that I couldn't help but notice.

No one knew it yet, not even the puppy herself, but her name was Soffy(I had no idea how to spell “Sophie” as a child, so I officially registered her name with two f’s and a y instead of a “phie.” My family loved it. I was slightly embarrassed by it. But in the end, it made her that much more unique.)

However, this isn’t a story as simple as puppy love at first sight. Nothing would come from that initial meeting until the car ride home.

As my mother drove us in our light blue van through the cold Seattle fog, my sisters began to recap the details of the day. I half-listened while staring out the window, pondering which Super Nintendo game to play first when we returned home. But when they came to the part of what happened at the pet store, they mentioned how surprised they were that I actually liked one of the animals there. I took that as my cue to speak out about my feelings on the matter.

"Mom, I want that dog." I said softly.

They all laughed at that. I was the youngest in the family and was known to let loose with my feelings recklessly. They all thought I was just being a silly kid again. Perhaps they thought I was just joking to shut them all up or move on to another topic.

"I mean it!" I barked out loudly, adding a foot stomp for emphasis.

My sisters were shocked enough to stop laughing, but not enough to wipe impish grins off their faces. They weren’t sure if their baby brother was finally growing up, or if he was throwing one of his famous temper tantrums.

"Brian, you are scared of dogs!" My Mom said.

"I don't care. I want that dog."

"But it's over $500. We can't afford it."

"I'll save up all my Christmas' and Birthday gift money if I have to!" I pleaded.

"No."

These negotiations went on throughout the night. But by the end of dinner, we had finally reached a breaking point. My mother began taking my pleas seriously, and had relented that this was actually a possibility for our family.

"If we get this dog. You are responsible for her,” she said. “You have to train her, take care of her, walk her. Everything."

I hadn't thought of that.

Then again, $500 was more than I'd ever seen in my young life, so it seemed like a fair enough deal... But I still wasn’t sure if I was truly ready to face my fear just yet.

"Some of you will help, right?"

Her eyes turned ice-cold in response to that, and I immediately regretted showing any uncertainty or weakness. But after a long terrifying stare-down of silence, her eyes softened once more and she answered with the love only a mother can give to her youngest child grasping at straws.

"When we can. But most of the time it will just be up to you and you alone. Do you still want the dog?"

"...Yes!"

A few days later the moment of truth had arrived. My parents had bickered and budgeted enough to welcome a new member into our family, and we were all set to buy my Soffy. But my mother was still not fully convinced.

"If you can’t pick her up, we will not buy this dog." she said to me, as we eased into the mall's parking lot.

"What?!"

"If you can't pick her up, there's no way you will be able to train her or take care of her."

"Fine..."

We got to the pet store and the store clerk took us back to the petting room, where my next trial awaited me.

My mother and sisters then began chatting with the store clerk about the history of the puffball prancing around the room. They checked how old she was, whether she had all her shots, where she came from, etc... Meanwhile, I kept silent and watched Soffy’s every move, steeling myself for a task I never thought I'd ever want to do.

Soffy seemed to notice that I was the only one still paying attention to her, so she began hopping around in a 2-by-2 gallop, continually circling my feet. Eventually, she realized I was not going to move a single inch, so she dropped down and began playing with my longest hanging shoelace. I half-jumped when she latched onto my shoes, and as I tried to walk away from her, she held on tight, with all four of her paws and her whole belly gliding across the smooth tiles of the petting room floor.

My mother and sisters stopped to look at what was going on, and couldn't help but laugh at my uncomfortable situation. I felt humiliated, but just kept walking along until my sisters decided to pull Soffy away and began playing with her.

Finally, my mother turned to me and said "Okay, we can get her. But you have to pick her up."

I gulped hard and took a deep breath then waited for the right moment. The moment arrived when I saw her sitting and staring up at one of my sisters, seemingly waiting for her next round of playtime. Now was my chance.

I rushed up from behind the little furball and quickly hooked both thumbs onto the scruff of her back, wrapping my other eight digits around her chest. As calmly as I could muster, I lifted her off the ground and held her out at full arms-length, displaying her like she was a baby Simba for all to see. Then, as quickly as I could, placed her gently back down where she was before.

"There. Can I have her now?"

My sisters couldn't help but smile broadly and giggle at my surprising, yet awkward-looking, act of courage.

Shortly after I released my grip on Soffy, she immediately turned around and grabbed onto my shoelaces again, staring up at me with those same eyes. Once again, she took a position of sprawling out on all fours and patiently waited for another ride across the floor. I obliged her as my mother began filling out the paperwork.

I had done it. She would be my first puppy. My first pet. My first best friend.

Present Day

In 2009, Soffy passed away at the age of 16 from cancer. I’ll never forget the depth of sadness and pain I felt the night we put her down.

There were countless beautiful memories she had gifted to me and my family throughout her lifetime:

The times she would patiently rest her head on my foot, waiting for me to finish my homework, or complete my video game session after a long day at school.

How she would hide pieces of kibble and snacks in couch cushions and save them for later, but inevitably forget some until my parents found them and scolded both of us.

How she could sense earthquakes minutes before they happened and warn my entire family. I’ll never forget her very serious demeanor, barking at blank walls before frantically turning back to stare at us like we were crazy to not understand what was about to happen.

There are so many tales to recall that it is nearly impossible to choose just one as my favorite. But the one moment I will never forget was the first day we met, and how much my life had changed from just a calm and playful stare from a stranger.

From that day, Soffy helped me overcome more than just my fear of dogs. She also had eased my fear of animals, my fear of growing up, and my fear of responsibility.

She remains the sweetest and wisest dog I've ever met to this day, and she taught me some of life’s most important lessons. That the best way to overcome our fears is not through resigning ourselves to the harsh realities of life or fate, but to face your fears through love, caring, and responsibility. And maybe most importantly, that whenever you take care of another in any manner, you are also taking care of yourself.

I still don't know why I asked my mother for a dog on that cold November day in 1993. All I know is that Soffy seemed to understand that I needed her as much as she needed me, and that she secretly possessed so many wise lessons that I still carry to this day.

Now that she is watching over me in doggy heaven, all I can say is thank you, Soffy. Thank you for helping me overcome so many of my fears and for making me a better person. You were the bestest friend I could have ever asked for.

This story was my entry for a writing challenge on Vocal Media.

Thank you so much for reading. I Agape-Love you all.

Until next time, God bless.

[quillyfied]

It’s late enough at night to be making an ill-advised post, let’s do it:

Years and years ago, once read a post about how if a person had a fear of dogs, other people wouldn’t be trying to get that person to hang out with dogs or give dogs a chance or say the dogs were misunderstood (the metaphor being about sexual assault survivors who have an inherent fear and distrust of cis men being told to “get over it” and “not all men”, how people with less “serious” phobias or fears or trauma responses get cared for more than rape victims, not gonna get into that bc it’s a nuanced topic and not my actual point anyway).

And. Taking that at face value, ignoring the metaphor, speaking as a person with a dog fear and who is also friends with many, many dog people: uh. Hmm. Not quite, actually. Yes, I have good friends and they are aware of my fear, and they do take steps to try and ensure my comfort when I visit, but ultimately, I’ve had so many people throughout my life try to convince me that I just need to get over my fear and that dogs are great. My fear has been laughed at. It has been not taken seriously. It’s been pushed to its limits. I have been encouraged to just give the dogs attention, or to suck it up. And admittedly, I’m better now as an adult than I was as a child, because as a child I would start crying and freaking out if a dog got too close. I have a sort of weary tolerance for my friends’ dogs now as an adult (because I’m a grownup and I know that the dogs don’t mean any harm and are entitled to not being shut up or closed off in their own homes, but also I am so massively uncomfortable around dogs and that is probably never going away). Familiar dogs are okay. Strange dogs are much less okay. Strange big dogs will still put my brain into primeval fight flight or freeze and I possum up like crazy. And yet. I must tolerate the dogs because I love their owners. So I make an effort.

So, metaphor from like 2014 or something, your logic is flawed, and people with fears, rational or no, are absolutely always pushed and prodded to some degree to overcome their fears, no matter how justified the fear. And if aging has taught me anything, it’s that exposure therapy for certain fears does do some amount of alleviation and teaches better coping mechanisms for the fear (obviously not a universal thing). I’m not going to engage with the deeper levels of the metaphor, just going to point out that “you wouldn’t push a person with a dog phobia to hang out with dogs” is WRONG, YES THEY WILL AND IT IS YOUR JOB TO LEARN HOW TO HANDLE THAT.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Sweet Child O’ Mine - Eddie Munson

A/N: aaahhh it looks like I’m on a roll for some reason xD I just wanna say that I loved this request however... I really tried to understand D&D but I honestly couldn’t, I did my mest and I just grabbed a few info from the internet insead so please don’t hate me :) 

Request - lunamadhatter99 asked: Oohhhh you're the sweetest of them all, I swear!❤️❤️ My request is basically Eddie x shy!Reader (yeah.. I love the thrope😅), the reader is friends with the gang (is the same age as Nancy, so is still in school and all that you know) and it's all set when they're looking for Eddie and when they finds him the reader is sorted to "guard him" You know, make sure he's not wandering around. And like Eddie tries to tease her to ease the tension and at some point he finds out she'd  like to play DnD but too scared to even approach the group and... yeah.. too specific? Thank you for letting me send a request hun❤️❤️❤️ 

Warnings: spoilers for S4E2&3; also my very bad attempt at writing for a reader that plays D&D once again, I apologize; reader wears glasses (mentioned a couple of times) and she had a stuttered when a kid and still does when nervous; I think that’s it :)

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things :D gif isn’t mine :) 

Your name: submit What is this?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Sweet Child O’ Mine

She's got a smile that it seems to me Reminds me of childhood memories Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky

“Okay. Well, that's settled. I guess he's not here-” Steve started but got interrupted.

“Eddie!” Dustin yelled, banging on the door. “It's Dustin!”

“Dustin, we’re kind of try to keep a low profile here” you reminded him.

Once again, you were tangled up in this mess. The things from the Upside Down were back. You were still unsure how you got tangled up in all this, really. It was just the wrong place at the wrong time. When you found your neighbor, Dustin Henderson, and his friend, Steve Harrington, haunting demo-dogs. Whatever the hell they were. You were still unsure. But ever since then you became part of the group. Want it or not. You knew some of them, like Jonathan. And you knew Dustin and his friends since you sometimes used to babysit for Mrs. Henderson. Although you had to admit, it gave you a really cool friend, like Steve Harrington, which is something you couldn’t think possible in a million years since he was a jerk in high school. And with Steve came Robin, who was even cooler so… things were pretty good. But this was way out of your league.

Now, here you were once again, looking for Eddie Munson, the lead of Hellfire Club because he was being accused of killing Chrissy Cunningham. You knew Chrissy, she was one of the kindest people in the school. And as horrible as what happened to her was, you knew for a fact that Eddie had nothing to do with it. Not only because you all knew this whole Upside Down thing a little too well. But because you knew Eddie. Kind of. He was one of the only people at school to be nice to you. He may have a very outspoken personality, but deep down, you were sure he was just a big teddy bear. Or you would like to believe that due to the very few interactions you had with him. And the fact that you might have a crush on him had nothing to do with it. Or so you told yourself.

“Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear. We just wanna help” Dustin tried.

“Yeah, that sounds convincing” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Fine, why don’t we split and look for him?” Robin asked. “We can go this way, and you can go that way” she suggested.

Max, Robin, and Dustin went the other way as you and Steve decided to go over to what looked like an abandoned boathouse.

“Jesus, what a dump” Steve complained as we looked around.

“Yeah, I really doubt that a drug dealer’s priority right now is to keep his boathouse clean” you said as he started poking the boat in the middle with an oar. “What are you doing?“

“He might be in here” he explained as if it was obvious.

“So take the tarp off” you suggested.

“If you're so brave, you take the tarp off!”

“Well, what are you going to do? Get him with your oar?”

“You know, I know you think you're being funny, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don't find it funny in the slight-”

Steve was suddenly cut off by a loud scream and Eddie jumping from underneath the tarp, pushing him against the wall, with a broken bottle on his neck.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!”

“Holy shit!” you muttered, walking slowly closer to them. “Whoa, whoa, Eddie!” you tried to get his attention. “Eddie, stop” you said, getting him to look at you, but he still had the broken glass against Steve’s throat. You felt your heart beating faster than you ever had before. He looked terrified. “Eddie, please, just listen to me” you tried. “I’m (Y/N). You know me from school” you continued. “We have some classes together. Y-you have helped me in Math sometimes a-and you borrowed my pencil in English, and one time you said that my notebook was cool because it had doodles of characters of The Lord Of The Rings, do you remember that?” you started thinking of anything that might get him to trust you and not hurt Steve. But at the same time, you felt a little embarrassed that these were very big moments in your life and he might not even remember them. “W-we just want to help you” you said, nervously. “This is S-Steve” you said, with your hands still up in surrender to let him know you had no intention of hurting him. “He’s not going to hurt you and neither am I” you stuttered.

“Right. Yeah” Steve managed to say.

“Steve, why don't you drop the oar?” you said, and Steve widened his eyes at you.

“I don’t think-”

“STEVE!” you snapped and he quickly dropped it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, still not letting go of Steve.

“We're looking for you” you told him. “We're here to help” you told him. “We’re here with Dustin, you know him. He’s in your Hellfire Club” you suggested and he started lowering the bottle just a little.

“Henderson’s here?”

“Yes” you and Steve said at the same time. Eddie was about to let his guard down but pointed the broken glass at Steve’s neck again when he heard a noise coming from outside.

“Eddie!” you heard Dustin’s voice coming in. “Holy shit! Eddie, I’m so glad you’re fine! Eddie, we’re here to help you!” he said, getting closer to you. “These are my friends. You know Robin, from band. This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D. And you know (Y/N)! I know you do because you always know where she seats at lunch” he said, making you feel your cheeks burning a little. “Eddie. We're on your side. I swear on my mother. Right, guys?”

“Yes. Yes. We swear” Max and Steve said at the same time.

“On Dustin's mother” Robin added.

“Yeah, Dustin's… Dustin's mother” Max mumbled.

Everyone was too afraid to move at this point, not knowing if Eddie would believe you. But he locked eyes with you for barely a minute before he started lowering the bottle and let Steve go. Eddie sat down on the edge of the boat and looked down. He seemed terrified and… defeated. Dustin started to walk closer to him and you followed his lead.

“Eddie” you said softly and he turned to look at you. He had tears in his eyes and you felt your heart breaking. “We just want to talk. Okay?”

“We want to know what happened” Dustin said.

“A-and we want to help you” you added.

“You won't believe me” Eddie said in a low tone.

“Try us” Max tells him.

You noticed Eddie’s hand shaking and you remembered how scared the first time you saw the demo-dogs you were. Whatever Eddie had seen must have been horrible. You had seen the horrible things that these creatures did. You had seen Billy Hargrove die last summer. He wasn’t someone that you were fond of but still, seeing him die the way he did, changed you forever. So you gained all the courage you had in you and you held Eddie’s hand. He looked at you with his deep brown eyes and a few tears escaped his eyes. He then started telling us his whole story. Starting when Chrissy came over to him to buy drugs. How he brought her back to his trailer because she wanted something stronger. And how she died right in front of him. The way he described it made your skin crawled. It sounded even worse than any of you had seen before.

“Her body just, like… lifted up into the air, and uh-” he said, with his voice breaking a little. “And she just, like… hung there” he continued. “In the air. And…” he stopped, taking a deep breath. “And her bones… Uh, she… Her bones started to snap” he said, crying. “And her eyes, man. It… It was like there was something, like, inside her head, pulling” he said, closing his eyes. “I… I didn't know what to do, so I… I ran away” he finished. He then turned to look at all of us with silent tears running down his cheeks. “You all think I'm crazy, right?

“No” Dustin assured him. “We don't think you're crazy” he said.

“Don't bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds” Eddie said, getting up and letting go of you.

“Eddie, we're not bullshitting you” Max tried to convince him.

“We believe you” you said, getting up and looking between everyone in the room. Steve and Dustin nodding at you. “Look, what we’re about to tell you might be a little… difficult to take” you said and he turned to look at you.

“Okay” he said, confused.

“You know how people say Hawkins is… cursed?” Dustin started and Eddie nodded hesitantly. “They're not… way off” he continued. “There's another world… A world hidden beneath Hawkins” he explained, and you were actually grateful he was there because you wouldn’t have any idea of how to explain any of this. “Sometimes it bleeds into ours” he said.

“Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked, confused.

“There are some things worse than ghosts” you muttered and he looked at you sadly.

“These… monsters” Dustin continued. “From this other world… we thought they were gone. But they've come back before” he explained.

“That's why we needed to find you” Max said. “If they're back again, we need to know” she told him.

“That night, did you see anything?” Robin asked. “Dark particles, maybe?”

“It would almost look like dust, swirling dust” Dustin described.

“No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh… or touch” Eddie said. “You know, I tried to wake her, man” he said with his voice breaking a little. “She couldn't move. It was like she… she was in a trance or something” he explained.

“Or under a spell” Dustin said, looking at you.

“A curse” you suggested.

“Vecna's curse” Eddie said, nodding at Dustin.

"Wait, who's Vecna?" Steve asked, confused.

"A spell caster" you told him, but it only confused him more.

"An undead creature of great power" Dustin added.

"A dark Wizard" you finished.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Okay, so this seems more fucked up than usual” Steve said as we left the boathouse to come up with a plan.

“Come on… is not that bad” you said, unconvincingly. “Is it?”

“Did you not just hear the same thing we did?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, okay, we’re fucked” you sighed. “So, what do we do?”

“Well, right now, we can go get some things for Eddie while we figure this out” Max suggested.

“Right” Dustin agreed. “Only I think one of us should stay here with him” he said, looking at you.

“I agree, and I think it should be you” Steve smirked at you.

“Second it” Max smiled.

“Third” Robin added.

“What? Me? W-why me?”

“Because you were basically the one who calmed him down” Dustin explained.

“That’s not true, he calmed down when you came in-”

“Not true, he calmed down when you started telling him all about how he helps you in Math and he borrowed your pencil and he likes your doodle-” Steve mocked you.

“Alright, shut up” you rolled your eyes. “Fine, I’ll stay with Eddie” you said and Dustin handed you one of the walkie-talkies.

“That thing’s got batteries in it, right?” Steve asked him and Dustin looked genuinely offended.

“I’m not even answering that question” he said. “Yes, Steve! It has batteries!” he said, as he walked over to the car with Max and Dustin.

“Hey” Steve called you. “Be safe, okay?” he said, kissing your head.

“You too. Take care of your kids-”

“Our kids!”

“Whatever” you laughed before walking back to the boathouse.

“Aren’t you going with them?” Eddie asked, confused when you walked inside.

“Um- d-do you w-want me to leave?”

“No!” he said a little too quickly. “I just… well, I didn’t think you would want to… be around me” he said looking down.

“I d-don’t mind” you said with a shy smile, sitting next to him. “I a-actually um-” you sighed.

“What?”

“Nothing”

“No. What is it?” he asked softly.

“W-well, I don’t really know why I always feel a bit calmer when y-you’re around” you said, looking away, feeling your cheeks burning.

Eddie’s smile was bigger than you had ever seen it when he made you look back at him. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah” you assured him.

“You would probably be the first one” he said, sadly.

“That’s not true” you told him. “I know Dustin and Mike look up to you” you said with a small smile. “And all of your Hellfire friends-”

“Why do you, though?” he asked, curiously. “I mean, is not like we’re exactly friends” he said, regretting it the moment the smile fell off your face.

“Oh” you said, feeling your cheeks burning even more.

“N-no, I didn’t mean it like that- I just- shit!” he said, closing his eyes. “Sorry, I meant that… I’m glad that you do b-because most people don’t but… I’m glad you do- this doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“It kind of does” you nodded. “And well, to answer your question, you helped me one time that Andy pushed me off a swing when I was like six years old and he broke my glasses” you said, looking away. He obviously wouldn’t remember that.

“You remember that?” he asked, nervously.

“Y-yeah, of course, I do” you said, looking back at him. “And that wasn’t really the only time, you’ve always kind of… made them back off whenever they… did something stupid” you said, shyly. “I wouldn’t really expect you to remember b-but it m-meant a lot to me” you confessed.

“I remember” he said, quietly.

“Y-you don’t” you chuckled.

“Yeah, of course, I do. I thought you were the prettiest girl with glasses I had ever seen... I still do” he told you, making your cheeks burn impossibly further. “And then I kind of wanted to get your attention but you never really seemed to talk back to me so I thought… maybe you also thought I was a freak too-”

“No” you said, grabbing his hand. “I’ve never thought that” you assured him. “I just… I don’t really talk to anyone” you admitted. “When I was younger I had a really bad stutter” you said, looking away. “I’m better now, although it still comes up when I’m n-nervous” you said. “Kids would make fun of me a lot so I just… kind of stopped talking altogether” you explained. “S-sorry if I didn’t talk back, I just… you were one of the few people to be nice to me and I didn’t want you to s-stop because of that” you said.

“I’m sorry” he said, squeezing your hand. “You can give me the names of those jerks and I’d gladly hunt them down” he said, making you chuckle.

“H-how are you doing?”

“Well, all things considered… not that bad” he sighed.

“Eddie” you said, in a serious tone. “I don’t know exactly what you saw but… I know how scary these things can be” you told him.

“You said that… there were some things worse than ghosts” he said. “W-what did you mean by that?” he asked, worriedly. “What did you see?” You sighed, feeling your eyes water. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t-”

“No, it’s okay” you told him. “You know how um… there was a fire in Starcourt mall last summer?” you asked and he nodded.

“The one where Billy Hargrove died?” he asked.

“Right” you said.

“There was no fire, was there?”

“Not exactly” you explained, telling him everything that happened that night and how you had seen Billy die. “I mean… I know Billy wasn’t exactly a nice person and… we weren’t close or anything but… still… seeing him… seeing anyone… die like that” you sighed. “And Chrissy was nice, so I can only assume how much worse it was for you-”

“I left her there” he said, with a few tears escaping his eyes. “I didn’t know what to do so I just… ran and… left her” he told you.

“Eddie, you did what you had to do” you told him. “If you would have stayed there then… most likely the police would have gotten there and… I don’t think they would have believed you” you explained. “But we do and we are going to help you. I promise” you assured him. “I mean, you can think of this as the Hellfire campaign, The Cult of Vecna” you said. “Except you wouldn’t be the Dungeon Master in this one, you’d be out there with the rest of us and we’re just starting. So, we have to figure out our strategy but we are definitely going to stand our ground and fight with you” you told him.

“Wait, how do you know about The Cult of Vecna?” he asked, confused.

“Oh, Dustin and Mike told me about it, it sounded really cool. I heard they got Erica to sub for Lucas and they had a great time” you smiled.

“Wait, you know Dungeons and Dragons?” he asked, impressed.

“Of course, I do” you smiled, shyly. “Who do you think taught these kids about it?”

“You’re shitting me” he chuckled.

“Nope. Bought Dustin his first D&D board for his eighth birthday” you explained.

“Well, what’s your class and level?”

“I don’t wanna say” you said, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Come on, why not?”

“Why not? You’re a Dungeon Master, you’re gonna make fun of me” you chuckled.

“I would never make fun of you. Especially for playing D&D” he promised. “I swear, I would not make fun of you, princess” he said with a smile. That smile that he always gave you whenever he helped you, that always melted your heart.

“Fine. My name is Athena, and I am lawful good, fighter 16 and cleric 16” you muttered.

“Shit, seriously?”

“Yeah” you nodded.

“That is so cool! Athena, like the goddess of war and wisdom?”

“Yeah, I was into Greek mythology when I started playing so…” you said.

“So, how come you have never come to a Hellfire meeting? It sounds like you could beat anyone’s ass” he laughed.

“Um, Mike and Dustin have actually asked me to join a couple of times” you admitted, feeling your cheeks burn.

“Why haven’t you?”

“I don’t know” you smiled shyly.

“Do we scare you?” he mocked with a smirk.

“N-no! O-of course, not” you assured him.

“I’m just messing with you, princess” he smiled and you sighed relieved.

“You all seem really nice… it’s just… like I said… I have trouble t-talking to people sometimes” you explained.

“Well, if you decide to… and for the record, I think you should” he said. “I’m sure everyone would be happy to welcome you in” he smiled.

“R-really, y-you think I should?” you asked, happily.

“Yeah, I do” he smiled. “I meant what I said, princess. I’ve always thought you were the prettiest girl I’d seen” he said. “I still do, and I also really like your Lord Of the Rings doodles, I mean it makes you like one hundred times cooler” he smiled, making you smile too. “That’s why I kind of always tried to get your attention but… I didn’t think you’d like a big dork like me” he said.

“I think I’m a bigger dork” you chuckled.

“Well, you’re a prettier dork, for sure” he smiled.

You could have sworn that he was leaning in, and before you could stop yourself you were too. It was a sweet, short kiss that was interrupted when you heard something outside, making you jump apart.

“Oh, shit” you said, getting up. “Tarp! Tarp!” you pointed and Eddie quickly started getting in the boat when the door opened.

“Fuck!”

“Jesus” you said, placing a hand on your chest when you saw Dustin, Robin, Max, and Steve at the door with bags in their hands.

“Delivery service” Dustin smiled innocently.

“You guys couldn’t think of a better way to make an entrance?” you asked as you helped Eddie out of the boat.

“So we got, uh, some good news and some bad news” Dustin said, walking inside and handing him the bags. “How do you prefer it?”

“Bad news first, always” Eddie replied.

“All right. Bad news. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they're definitely looking for you” he said.

“Also, they're, uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy” Steve said.

“Like, 100% kind of convinced” Max added.

“Subtle, guys” you said as you turned to look at Eddie. His expression was a mix of defeat, fear, and sadness altogether. “What about the good news?”

“Your name hasn't gone public yet” Robin said.

“Okay, so, that’s good. That’s a good thing” you tried to cheer him a little.

“Yes, but if we found out about you, it's a matter of time before others do” Steve said.

“And once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for you” Robin added.

“Hunt the freak, right?” Eddie said, sadly.

“Exactly” Robin replied.

“Robin!” you snapped a little.

“Shit” Eddie muttered.

“You're not a freak, Eddie. We’re gonna fix this okay?”

“Yes! We are, I mean before that happens, we find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence” Dustin suggested.

“That's all, Dustin? That's all?” Eddie asked, sarcastically.

“Yeah, no, that's pretty much it” Dustin replied as if it was no big deal.

“Listen, Eddie, I know everything Dustin is saying sounds… totally delusional, but we've actually been through this before” you said, holding his hand. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group.

“I mean, they have a… a few times, and… and I have once. Mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke-related-” Robin rambled.

“But the bottom line is” you cut her off. “Collectively, I really feel we got this” you said, trying to encourage him.

“We usually rely on this girl who has superpowers. But, uh, those went bye-bye, so…” Steve said.

“So we're technically in more of the-” Dustin continued.

“Brainstorming phase” Max finished for him.

“Brainstorming, yeah” Robin added.

“Right” you smiled wearily at Eddie. “There… There's nothing to worry about” you said unconvincingly until you heard police sirens outside.

“Tarp!” Steve said.

“Tarp. Tarp!” Dustin said as Eddie got back in the boat and everyone helped place the tarp on him. But the police cars seemed to continue down the road.

“Are they… headed to the trailer park?” you asked.

“Looks like it” Steve said.

“Let’s go” Dustin said. “We’ll come back with more news okay, just stay hidden” he said, but Eddie walked over to you.

“Go with them” he said.

“What? N-no, I don’t want to leave you here alone-”

“No, I don’t want-” he sighed, sadly. “If they find me, I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’ll be safer with them. Please go. I’ll be okay, I promise, I’ll have the walkie-talkie” he said, grabbing it from your hand.

“Are you sure?” you asked, still not wanting to leave him alone.

“Yes. Please, princess” he said with his huge puppy eyes.

“Okay” you caved. “Just… stay safe, okay? Please?” you begged.

“I promise” he smiled, kissing your head. “Hey, uh-” he said, pulling you back for a moment and placing his hand on the back of his neck. “After this is um- all d-done, would you maybe like to uh- I don’t know, come to a Hellfire m-meeting?”

“M-me? Really?”

“Y-yeah, I mean, if you want to. Although you practically should, you might be better at D&D than any of the members” he chuckled. “And then maybe, I don’t know, we can get something to eat or… something?”

“Like… a date?” you asked, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Yeah” Eddie smiled. “I m-mean, if you would… like that” he said.

“It’s a date” you smiled before he leaned down to kiss you.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: just so everyone knows EVERYONE in this story lived happily ever after and you and Eddie went on your date... thanks for coming to my tedtalk, I hope you liked it :D 

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[gretavansteph]

Unless It’s You  (Jake Kiszka)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ahh!!!! okay so I know I currently have an ongoing Josh fic but I was listening to my spotify and this song came on and I just felt super inspired and I had to write it down asap!! I hope you enjoy!!

You swore you'd never do it again, you couldn't. You couldn't allow yourself to be vulnerable like that ever again, with anyone. Having been wronged in many ways by different people, people that were supposed to be trustworthy. People that were supposed to love you and be there for you no matter what. Friends, lovers, family, they had all come and gone. You were used to being alone, after a while you didn't mind it so much. Sure, you slipped into a dark place from time to time, being overwhelmed by the silence, but that's where Chip came in. Chip was your puppy, he was a Cavachon puppy and the cutest thing in the world. He liked to think he was big and tough even though he was barely even the size of your shoe but  you just couldn't bear to tell him otherwise. He was your little man, your best friend, your partner. It was you and Chip against the world and you liked it like that, you really did. Everything was perfect, until you met him.

————

It was  a regular Tuesday afternoon, the bakery was slow, much like every other Tuesday. It didn't normally start picking up until after 3 o'clock when the kids were let out from school. They would come and hangout with their friends, some of the high schoolers would be on dates, the younger children dragging their poor mothers in for a cupcake or a scoop of homemade  ice cream. You loved every second of it, having always wanted to open your own bakery and then one day you finally did it. Saved up enough dough and found the cutest place in the cutest small town. It was miles and miles away from where you had grown up and you loved it, not wanting to bring any sour memories with you. That's where you started fresh.

Chip would come to work with you, the kids loved him, and he loved the attention and the not so subtle under the table licks of ice cream the kids would let him have from time to time, not without your approval first of course.

Upon checking the time, you realized you still had time to kill before the crazy after school traffic would start flooding the small shop, so you walked over to your record player in your lounge area off to the side, it was a costumer favorite, and you sifted through the vinyls you had to offer. Settling on the Dirty Dancing soundtrack, your favorite,  you began tydying up the place, dancing around to the music with Chip happily jumping around your feet. He loved the record too. Neither of you noticed the door opening, or the small bell at the top of it dinging, too indulged in your dancing and cleaning. But what you did notice was the raspy voice that spoke up.

"Ice cream and a private dance? You've got a good thing going here."

You gasped, turning around with a hand over your mouth. Chip barked once at your feet, taking notice of the stranger but quickly forgetting his guard dog duties as he ran over, wagging his tail at the very handsome stranger.

His hair was long, a bit past his shoulders. He wore tan ankle boots that looked like they had seen better days. Some faded baby blue jeans, and a blue button up that was only buttoned up enough to cover his belly button. A variety of necklaces dangled from his neck, resting on his silky smooth chest.

Damn, he was hot.

"Well thanks," he grinned. 

Did I say that out loud?

He chuckled. "Yes you did.”

You felt your face burning with embarrassment. Finally snapping out of it you walked over to turn the music down a bit then made your way behind the counter.

"I'm so sorry," you started, still in awe of the handsome ass man in front of you. "I didn't hear you come in."

He smiled, god his smile was so pretty. This time you made sure to keep that in your mind. 

"Yeah I figured as much, I was standing there for like, 5 minutes and neither of you noticed." He bent down to pick Chip up, and he happily let him as he wagged his tail like crazy, licking his face at all the attention the kind stranger was offering. 

"Oh god you were there that long? And you didn't say anything?" you covered your face in shame. "That's so embarrassing I'm so sorry."

He laughed at your blushy face, that you tried so hard to hide but he could very much still see you. "It's alright love, you seemed to be enjoying yourself and I didn't want to interrupt." he said.

You face grew even more hot at the pet name, no one had ever called you that before.

"Anyway," you cleared your throat. "What can I get you?"

"Well," he started, stepping closer to the counter and the coolers that displayed various pastries and different flavors of ice cream. "What would you recommend?" he asked, looking up at you as he scratched behind Chip's ears. 

You hated that question, being the owner and all and literally making all of your own stuff, you loved every single thing you made and sold and you had trouble singling out one thing.

"Honestly? Anything you pick I can assure you you'll like." you said, motioning down the counter and towards the coolers.

"Really?" he said, raising his eyebrows at you. "You seem pretty confident."

This made you smile. "I mean, I do make everything fresh every day, they're all my recipes so I'd like to think my creations are good." 

There was a look on his face upon you saying that, it was a look you had never seen before. It made you nervous but only for a second, thinking that maybe he was judging you for being overly confident about your work, but something told you that wasn't it.

"Okay," he finally said. "I'll have a scoop of avocado."

You beamed at him, grabbing a small cup and getting his ice cream for him. You placed a small glittery spoon on top, and handed it to him over the counter. He set Chip down, much to his dismay, and stepped over to the counter to pay.

"So," he spoke, taking a bite out of his ice cream. "Mmm," he moaned, his eyes closing which you were thankful for as your face turned red again. He opened them again and looked at you as you laughed at him. "I'm sorry but this is so good, I'm going to be honest I didn't have high hopes cause it's avocado but, fuck."

You laughed again and pointed your finger teasingly at him. "I told you." you sing songed. 

He smiled, leaning against the counter as he finished his ice cream. You made small talk as he ate, which you noticed he ate incredibly slow, but you didn't mind. You were enjoying his company. Really enjoying his company. And so was Chip. A little too much at that, which you both came to realize as you noticed a small wet spot on the beautiful strangers shirt, upon picking Chip up once he finished his ice cream. 

Your eyes grew wide, watching the beautiful stranger slowly realize what had happened as the warmth spread through his shirt.

"Oh, my God I am so so sorry!" you franticly ran around the counter, grabbing some napkins and pressing them against his shirt with one hand, grabbing Chip out of his arms with your other. He took over the napkins for you, cleaning up his shirt as much as he could as you scolded Chip.

"That is so sad Chip! We do not pee on strangers! You know better than that, eso no se hace!" you scolded, patting his butt lightly so he would understand. You turned at the sound of laughter behind you, and found the handsome stranger laughing at your interaction with your puppy.

"What's so funny?" you asked, confused by his laughter.

"Did you just scold your dog in Spanish?" he asked  as he continued to laugh.

"As a matter of fact I did," you said proudly. "He's a bilingual dog."

That just made him laugh harder. You rolled your eyes playfully and turned to put Chip behind the counter, not wanting him to pee on anything, or anyone else. Eventually the kind stranger pulled himself together, tossing the dirty napkins in the near by trash bin.

"Well," he started. "Can't say I've ever had a bilingual dog pee on me before."

You opened your mouth to apologize, but he held his hand up to stop you. "It's okay,"  he said. "It happens. If anything I'm honored of being worthy enough to be pissed on by a bilingual dog." he laughed at his own joke, and you couldn't help but laugh with him. 

"I'm still really sorry though," you said, offering him an apologetic smile. "He's never done that before, ever."

"It's fine, really." he said, waving you off with a smile. 

You watched him as he cleaned up his trash, wiping away a bit of ice cream that got on the counter from him eating. You figured he was getting ready to leave, so you took your designated spot behind the counter, watching him as he pulled his wallet out. 

"Just for future reference," he said, pulling a bill out of his wallet. "I don't mind a little bit of wetness on me." he shot you a wink and you stood there, blushing beet red as you watched the handsome stranger slip the bill into your tip jar, and walk straight out the door.

———————

attached is Jake’s fit!!

[justhockeythings-blog1]

Who said I’m out of your league?

A/N: I wasn’t sure how to end this one so let me know what you all think! Feed back is greatly appreciated! Also I totally had to use this gif, his confidence is unmatched lol

Request:  Can you please do a William Nylander imagine where you meet the team for the first time and they tease him about you being out of his league or something. Thanks!

For the entirety of your six month relationship, you had always assumed that Willy was out of your league. He was a professional hockey player, the Swedish-Canadian version of Thor, not to mention that his personality could impress even the strictest mother on the planet. You were, for all intents and purposes, average. You had a normal job, normal friends, you considered your looks to be normal, and you had a normal, by your own standards, upbringing. Your personality was probably the one thing you were confident could hold a flame to Willy’s but even then, he had the ability to be so selfless at times you wondered if you were dating an angel. 

Willy on the other hand thought that you were the most amazing thing to ever walk this planet and he took every single opportunity to tell you just that. You did something different with your hair? “Wow babe, you look amazing.” You wore new clothes that you just got? “Damn baby you should model for that company.” There was never a shortage of compliments that came from him about you. 

Which was probably why you didn’t feel as nervous as you should about meeting his teammates for the first time. You knew that Willy loved you, there was never a doubt in your mind, so you figured even if today went horribly wrong in every aspect you still had that going for you. You also had heard wonderful things about his teammates, from Willy himself but also the fans. It wasn’t like you hadn’t interacted with them in some capacity, they had heard your voice over the phone or briefly over the headset when Willy joined them for video games. You were pretty sure Willy had talked about you to them, at least in some capacity, so really you should be set up for an easy meeting with all of them. 

That’s what you tried to tell yourself anyways, the closer you got to the bar you were meeting the team at the more you felt your hands beginning to sweat. You rubbed them on your jeans for the fifth time, reaching over to lace your fingers with Willy’s as he drove. You thought you were holding your nerves fairly well, you had assured Willy before you left that this was going to be a walk in the park.

Boy were you beginning to eat your words.

“What’s got you so worked up?” He teased, pulling his eyes away from the road momentarily before he returned them to focus on where he was going. “You’re never nervous.”

That was a lie. In fact Willy had seen you nervous on numerous occasions, including the first time you two had ever met. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find it cute. You had a number of nervous ticks that he had picked up on over the last few months. You would bounce your leg while waiting for an event that was causing your nerves to spike or you would bite your lip when deep in thought, as if planning out every option. Your cheeks would heat up, creeping up your neck, when someone called you out on any and you would wave your hand in the air as if physically brushing the nerves away momentarily.

 Right now you were expressing all of those ticks, right down to the heat climbing up your neck as you tried to wave your free hand absentmindedly, brushing his words out of the air. It caused Willy to smile, he knew you better than you thought he did. He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it before he focused back on the road again. You would never admit it to him, you liked to be a neutral front but he had seen your nerves spike randomly in the days leading up to today. You had grilled him about his teammates a few times, wanting to make sure you at least had the basics of their names, girlfriends who may or may not be there. It had made Willy laugh, comparing it to you taking notes as if you were about to write a paper on the leafs player. 

“You can hide it all you want, but you’re nervous.” He called you out again and you gave him a sharp look, sticking your tongue out at him childishly. 

“I’m not nervous, I’m just…” You trailed off, tossing around a number of emotions in your head before you settled on the one. “Worried. These guys are your teammates and your best friends. I know it shouldn’t be that big of a deal, because you love me and that’s important but it’s going to make things awkward if they don’t like me.” 

You turned to look at him, letting your words settle in the car as Willy parked, your stomach dropping to your feet as you realized you were there. Everything felt so much more real now that you were looking at the sign of the bar, peering in the front window you could see Zach and Rasmus, already surrounded by other players. 

“Hey..” Willy’s soft voice pulled your eyes away from the window and back to him. “It’s going to be okay. They’re going to love you, I mean it’s not like I haven’t hyped you up. Just be yourself, if you’re uncomfortable after like an hour then we can go, okay?” He assured you, giving your hand another kiss.

“Okay, let’s go.” You smiled a little, grabbing your purse and climbing out, stopping in front of the car to wait for him before you both made your way inside. Your stomach flipping once more as he held the door for you, following you inside and guiding you over to the table.

“About time, we were wondering if you got lost on your way.” Zach teased, causing Willy to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I get lost one time and you never let me live it down.” Willy laughed, pulling out a chair for you to sit down in before taking one at your side. “This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Zach, Rasmus, Auston…”

You followed his finger as he pointed to each player who was there, as well as their own guests, mentally trying to commit them all to memory. You were pretty good when it came to names and faces, but the nerves weren’t helping, you could almost feel your hands shaking a little. 

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you all.” You waved a little, smiling softly as conversation picked up, Willy holding your hand under the table. 

~

It was as though you had known these people your whole life, you fell into conversation easily, answering questions about your job, hobbies, and your family. Willy kept a close eye on you the entire time, making sure that you weren’t getting overwhelmed by the amount of people who were trying to get to know you all at once. He smiled a little as he watched you engage in a conversation with Mitch about puppies and which breed was superior. He hadn’t been worried about you meeting the guys, he knew you would get along well and they would probably end up liking you more than him. 

In his mind it was impossible to not like, you were the sweetest person he had ever crossed paths with, with the exception of maybe his mom. You were constantly doing what you could to help others, taking care of him in the smallest ways like putting his laundry away after a road trip, making his favorite dinner after a rough game, or making sure he followed the trainer’s instructions even if he tried to avoid them. Not to mention that you seemed to make friends everywhere the two of you went, you just had the type of energy that drew people to you. 

“Hey, I’m going to grab another drink with the girls, did you want anything?” You asked, pulling him out of his thoughts as you stood up and he smiled a little. “Sure, surprise me.” 

He gave your hand one more squeeze as he watched you branch away from him with some of the girls, making your way up to the bar to order your drinks. It was like a proud parent watching their kid go off to school for the first time, it was a sign to Willy that you really were comfortable around his friends now. 

“Dude, she is so out of your league.” Mitch snorted, taking a sip of his drink as he watched Willy look after you with that same lost puppy dog expression you had been describing about your own dog only moments ago. 

Willy felt his cheeks heat up as he tried to hide his face in the last remnants of his drink, he should have known the second they had him alone they would say something to him.

“I mean seriously, she’s like a walking angel. How did you land her?” Zach asked, joining in on the chirping of their young teammate. Everyone was happy that Willy had found someone who seemed to match his energy, knowing that the blonde deserved the best. 

“It’s my undeniable charm boys, maybe you should try it sometime.” He smirked a little, firing back at his teammates as they all erupted into chuckles around him. 

“Well if she ever wants a real man, let her know I’m always around.” Rasmus teased, reaching over to mess up Willy’s hair playfully as Willy smacked his hands away. 

“She wants a man not a man child.” Willy fired back before he felt a hand on his shoulder, another drink being placed in front of him. “Got your usual!” 

He smiled as he saw you sitting back down beside him, shooting a look to the boys to behave, he didn’t mind their chirping but he didn’t know how you would take it seeing as how this was your first time meeting them and while it was going well, he didn’t want it to ruin anything.

~

The rest of the afternoon continued in a similar manner, the conversation flowed easily, and any time you stepped away from the group Willy was hit with another round of chirping about how you were out of his league. It was all in good fun and by the end of the afternoon you had begun to pick up on some of the chirping that carried over into the normal conversation, firing back at the boys with a smirk. 

“I mean, at least Willy knows what he’s doing, when was the last time a girl came back to you after a night?” You shot back at Auston innocently, sipping your drink as Willy and the boys burst into a loud round of laughter, accepting the high fives and the fist bump from Auston. 

“On that note, I think we better get going, gotta get my girl home and away from you hooligans.” Willy smiled, throwing his tip money on the table as he helped you up and you waved your goodbyes to the group. 

“Bye Y/N! You know where to find us if you ever want an upgrade!” You heard the boys called, laughing as you and Willy made your way back out to the car. The ride home was nice, you were buzzing as you filled Willy in on the conversations he hadn’t been a part of. This continued when you got home too, jabbering away as you made your way upstairs, stripping out of your jeans and sweater, tugging a pair of his sweatpants from the drawer as he sat on the bed, staring at you. 

“Damn you are so out of my league.” He muttered to himself, smiling as he watched you glow in relief of his friends approving of you. 

“What? Who said I was out of your league?” You frowned a little, setting yourself between his legs and playing with his hair as you looked down at him, his hands resting on your sweatpant clad hips. 

“Just the guys chirping at me, don’t worry about it but they do have a point. I am dating a literal angel.” He smiled as he could tell that the heat was rising up your neck to your cheeks again, in an attempt to hide your blush you shook your head. These were the things you usually thought about Willy, not things you were used to him saying about you. 

“Oh please, have you looked in the mirror Nylander?” You hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips so he couldn’t argue against you. “Maybe we aren’t out of each other’s leagues but just in a league all our own.” 

He smiled against your lips, giving your hips a gentle squeeze. “That’s a pretty elite league to be in, I must’ve gotten called up when I started dating you.”

“You’re running my compromise!” You laughed and pushed his shoulder, hardly enough to budge him. “Now, I had fun today but can we get pizza or something and just chill? My social battery is drained.” 

He smiled and stood up, now towering over you gave him the advantage to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Your wish is my command, Princess.”

[princehrry-writings]

Friends Don't

ahhhh, i hope you love it!! please send in requests!! let me know what you think, and if you like it maybe share with your friends?

wordcount: 3226

warnings: mentions of alcohol, maybe swearing? tbh I don't think anything else.

we love a good bff's to lovers :)

All Harry did was shrug him off and say his final goodbyes- heading back out to his car that he had been in not more than 20 minutes ago when he arrived to have dinner with Jeff, and followed the gravitational pull that always seemed to lead back to you.

or

Harry is your best friend that you're in love with, but neither of you will admit it.

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“What are you doing here, it’s the middle of the fucking night H?” It was cold, too cold to stand there on your front porch in nothing but a big teeshirt and shorts. The smile on his face was cheeky, but when was it not with him.

“Just wanted to stop by, that’s all. Got bored…” He said and you sighed, shaking away the blush that wanted to creep up your neck. His hair was a bit messy and his clothes were wrinkled, like he’d been tossing and turning in them. He made his way into your house after you stepped aside to let him in and made himself comfortable like he always does when he comes over.

With a huff, he collapsed on your living room couch, you following in suit and cuddling into his side. It wasn’t uncommon for you to find yourself here in this position. The middle of the night was usually a time when Harry’s mind ran wild, you weren’t much different. Usually, it was the man himself plaguing your mind, but you’d never tell him that.

It’s ok, he’d never tell you that you were the reason he kept himself up at night either.

“Wanna go lay down?” You asked quietly, fidgeting with the rings on your best friend’s hand as the other tangled itself in your hair just the way he knew would relax you. A soft hum arose from him and you nodded, reluctantly separating your bodies and treading up to your room. Harry felt like he spent more nights here than at his own house.

-

Harry’s phone buzzed beside him, pulling his attention away from whatever Jeff had been talking about for the last 5 minutes. A message from you sat there on his screen asking if he wanted to come over and have a movie night and order take out. Another message popped up a few seconds later adding “I have wine 😏” and a smile crept onto his cheeks, something he was never able to control when it came to you. There wasn’t much you couldn’t get him to do, it was something about you that fascinated him. He felt safe with you, safe enough to do anything. He didn’t have to worry about something being leaked to the press or worse- being made fun of by you. He quickly typed back a reply saying he’d be there in 20 minutes and to call in the order to your favorite place not far from your house so he could pick it up on the way. Jeff finally stopped talking as Harry caught his attention, telling him he had to go.

“Wait what? We just got here, we haven’t even ordered yet! Where are you going?” Harry shrugged and said something came up and he had to go but the look in his eyes told Jeff everything he needed to know.

“So you’re leaving me to go see the girl you claim you’re not in love with?” A blush crept up Harry’s neck and onto his face, turning so the man couldn’t see it. With a shake of his head and a cough to clear the lump that had gathered in his throat, he turned back to his friend sitting in front of him.

“She’s my best friend, m’not in love with her!” He defended, wondering which one of them he was trying to convince more and pushing that thought to the back of his mind. The sound of Jeff scoffing, he swore, could be heard from outside the restaurant they were at right now, and the pointed look being directed at Harry was enough to make him want to shrink back into himself just to get away from it.

“H… I hate to break it to you, but friends don’t cancel other plans just to see each other…” Somewhere in his mind, Harry knew that- but that was a thought for another time. Right now, he was just focusing on making it to your house with your guys’ favorite takeout food and cuddling up to you on your couch or in your bed to watch movies he wouldn’t be paying any attention to in favor of watching your eyes light up during your favorite scenes, and drinking what some would say is a little too much wine for a Thursday evening. The two of you didn’t have to worry about that part though- you always had Fridays off.

All Harry did was shrug him off and say his final goodbyes- heading back out to his car that he had been in not more than 20 minutes ago when he arrived to have dinner with Jeff, and followed the gravitational pull that always seemed to lead back to you.

-

Loud music and large crowds were something Harry was accustomed to, he’d spent the majority of his teen years and all of his adult life around them, in the middle of them. What he wasn’t used to was you being there with him. He’d convinced you to have a night out with him and a friend that was in town and you hesitantly said yes. The two of you didn’t go out in public together very often, and when you did it was always very meticulous. You showed up separately, acted like you didn’t know each other, and tried to stay away from as many prying eyes as you possibly could. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want to be seen with you or even that you didn’t want to be seen with him- it was just better for the both of you that your friendship stay out of the public eye. It was better for your job and it made things easier in your personal life as well. The last thing Harry wanted was for the media to start making rumors and for his fans to start ripping you apart like they had been known to do in the past.

The club you guys were at was very exclusive, and you had followed the same protocol of showing up at different times as to not be seen walking in together. You had sworn you’d never been around so many A-list celebrities in your entire life and you were starting to feel a little overwhelmed at all the people you knew of in the room, all the faces you’d seen so many times before only through a screen. You didn’t have much time to panic as Harry was whisking you off to meet the friend he’d told you about that was here. A very familiar Irish accent piqued your ears as you got closer to the bar near the back of the crowded room, a head of brown hair, that in your mind should still be blond, peaking out amongst the people surrounding him. Of course, out of all the friends he has, it had to be Niall Horan he was talking about. Someone that you were very familiar with. Niall had always been your favorite in One Direction and you made sure you reminded Harry of that every chance, uh sorry, every chonce you got.

Memories of the two of you sitting in your car as a 1D song came on the radio and you shushing him as Niall started singing- reminding him that this was “the best part” and turning it up louder than it really needed to be flashed through your mind and you tried your hardest to fight the blush creeping up your neck as you stopped in your tracks, halting both of you from going any further. You shot him a glare and it took everything in you not to slap that smirk off of his face.

“Really? And you didn’t even warn me? What the fuck H?” If your heart wasn’t racing before, it certainly was now at the thought of meeting Niall Horan. You didn’t even freakout this hard when you met Harry for the first time. That encounter seemed like it was yesterday and 100 years ago all at the same time.

“M’a little hurt you didn’t freak out over me like this, love! What does he have that I don’t?” Faking offense, his hand coming up to hold his chest as if you’d actually hurt him. You scoffed and pushed his shoulder away, fully prepared to run and hide in the bathroom the rest of the night. You freaked out over Harry in a different way. One that you didn’t let him ever see. And sure- maybe you went home after the first time you met and screamed your head off to your best friend in your hometown- but he didn’t need to ever know that. But now here you were, 20 feet away from Niall fucking Horan, your teenage celebrity crush, and you didn’t know if you were gonna make it to see tomorrow.

Why you were so freaked out about meeting him you weren’t quite sure. Maybe it was that he was one of Harry’s closest and oldest friends and you wanted him to like you (for reasons you weren’t ready to admit to yourself, let alone Harry) or maybe it was merely the fact that you spent the entirety of your high school career with pictures of him on your wall and on the front of your school binder.

“I’m gonna die tonight…” You muttered to yourself as Harry began dragging you behind him once again, over to the open bar stools next to Niall.

“Oi there he is!” The Irishman turns to see the pair of you, pulling Harry into a long overdue hug.

“Hey mate,” The smile on Harry’s face is one you don’t get to see often as it only comes out when he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. You knew seeing Niall was something he’d been looking forward to, although you didn’t quite know it was Niall until less than 2 minutes ago. Sometimes life gets to be a little too much and having someone that gets it like Niall does is important. You could only offer so much as you had no idea what it was like to walk in his shoes.

“You must be the famous Y/N this guy never stops yappin’ about!” The smile is replaced by a flush you’ve seen plenty of times before. He almost looks like a dog with his tail between his legs as he flicks the brunets forehead.

“Aye, no need for that,”

“I guess that’s me!” You say with a smile, expecting for Niall to extend his hand. He, instead, pulls you into a bone crushing hug that you know 14 year old you would have died for, but current you can’t help but wish it was Harry’s arms wrapped tightly around your body like this. He hugs you like this all the time, if not tighter, but it doesn’t seem like you could ever get enough of the man with green eyes standing next to you with that lopsided smile sewn onto his face.

“M’ Niall, it’s nice to meet you!”

---

Ok. Maybe those last two shots of tequila Niall had talked you into weren’t the best idea. Maybe, dragging Harry out to the dance floor when you were just drunk enough to tell him anything wasn’t the best idea. Maybe you didn’t really care right now because the feeling of his hands on your body in a way that wouldn’t be considered platonic was too good to do anything about.

Drunk you has been known to almost spill a certain 8-letter phrase that sober you would rather keep to herself. Drunk you wishes you could get over yourself and just say it, so every time- like clockwork- you get close to his ear and begin the little phrase. But somehow, by some magical happenstance, an outside force steps in. Almost as if the universe is trying to tell you something. You just can’t figure out if it means don’t tell him at all or don’t tell him like this.

Just as you felt yourself lean in and brush your lips against the outer shell of his ear Niall showed up out of nowhere letting us know he was heading to the bathroom and joking about how if he wasn’t back in 20 minutes to call security.

“What was that you were about t’say love?” He leaned in close to your ear as you had done to him not even 30 seconds ago before you were interrupted. In his inebriated state, it sounded more like “wha’ was tha’ ya were abou’ t’say love,” as he always talked a little sloppier when he’d had a few drinks. He says that when he bit the end of his tongue off that it got rid of his little lisp but it didn’t really. He’s just never sober enough to remember.

“I-uh, I don’t remember now,” You giggled, playing it off as drunken rambling. He nods, pulling you closer, if that was possible at this point, and swaying back and forth off beat to the music. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, face buried in your neck where he felt most at home. Your arms find purchase wrapped around his neck, your head placed gently atop his. To any wandering eye, it would seem as if the two of you were in love with each other.

-

Someone leaked pictures of your night out to the media. Harry doesn’t even bother to knock as he barges into your house to see you wandering around your kitchen putting things away, acting like you had no idea that the whole world thought you were dating your best friend. Because you didn’t. Your phone had been off all day in favor of getting things done around the house.

“Love, please don’t be mad…”

“Why, what did you do?”

“Have y’not seen?”

“...Seen what, H?”

“Shit,” He muttered under his breath, walking closer to you. He looked like a dog with his tail between his legs. You only grew more suspicious as he pulled his phone out, swiping around until he found what he was looking for.

A cold sweat broke out over your body, throat suddenly dry, heart beginning to race. What you were seeing was a picture of you and Harry with your hands all over each other on the dance floor of the club you were at last Friday night. Your name was attached to the tweet along with Harry’s, obviously, along with other pictures of the two of you together from that night. You felt a little sick.

You were angry that you let your guard down in public but all of your feelings of anguish and sickness washed away when you saw the look of pure fear in Harry’s eyes. He was absolutely terrified that you were going to push him away after this. His mind raced from all of the possibilities. He was terrified to lose you.

“I didn’t mean for this t’happen, pet. Promise! M’so sorry, I-” You shut down his worry, gently placing your hand on his cheek, brushing your thumb under his eye.

“Hey, I know. It’s ok. It’s ok.” You pulled him into your arms, wrapping yourself around him tightly. He melted into you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. This is where he felt most at home. Safe in the arms of the girl he loves. His heart sinks at the idea that she would never know. He doesn’t know if he could live with the idea of you meeting someone else. Holding someone else the way you're holding him now. Tightening his grip on your waist, he pulls his head away from your neck, resting his forehead against yours.

“Y/n… I- god why is it so hard f’me t’say this.” He stumbles over his words, trying to find the courage to say what he’s been waiting for so long to tell you.

“Say what, Haz?” You whispered, heart picking up speed. Your fingers gently brushed away a stray curl that had fallen into his eyes.

He was quiet for a beat, looking anywhere but your eyes. When he finally did make eye contact, your breath caught in your throat. His eyes held a look you had seen so many times before. A look you told yourself didn’t mean anything so many times that for a moment, you almost believed it.

“The way I feel about you…” He whispered. This time, it was his hand that gently met your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye. His eyes flitted back and forth between your lips and your irises.

“Baby, for so long I tried to tell myself that there was nothing here. That we really were just good friends, but we both know…” His voice didn’t raise any higher as he said this. You could feel his hand shaking on your cheek. You held his wrist, returning his intense gaze and nodding your head subtly.

You did know. You hadn’t quite realized that he knew too, but you knew you certainly did. Maybe it was a good thing that someone leaked those pictures.

“Y/n, my darling Y/n… I love you.” Tears welled in your eyes as it felt like the weight of the galaxy had just been lifted from your shoulders.

“I know you do,” Your voice broke, trying to keep the happy tears at bay,” And I love you too.”

He closed the already minuscule distance between the two of you, matching his lips to yours. He poured everything he had ever felt for you into this kiss, holding you even tighter against him. You gave him everything you had and more, hoping that this kiss would be enough to truly tell him how you felt. I love you just isn't big enough. There aren’t enough words in all of the languages combined to truly describe the way you feel about the man kissing you right now.

You fit perfectly together, like one soul that's been split in two and destined to reunite over and over again throughout time. You truly believe you’ve fallen in love with Harry many times before, in different lives, as different people. The connection was just too pure for that not to be the case.

He broke the kiss, both of you gasping for air, him muttering, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” between every breath and wiping away the tears that had managed to escape onto your cheeks.

“What are we gonna do?” You asked after you’d both caught your breath.

“Well, first things first, I think I have a question to ask you…” He trailed, a gentle smirk pulling onto his face.

“M’love, will you be my girlfriend?” You beamed, looking into the green eyes before you, nodding your head more prominently.

“Yes,” You giggled as he cut you off with a kiss. His hands roamed the span of your back, cheekily dipping below your waistline, onto your ass. He rubbed his hands around before you playfully slapped them away, not being able to swipe the smile off your aching cheeks.

“We’ll figure this out, together. As long as I have you, the rest of the world doesn’t matter. We’ll take it one step at a time.” He says with an adoring smile.

The rest of the world doesn’t matter, you decide. You have him. And he’s all you need.