#help what am i even talking about anymore why am i having a life crisis right here and now u m.

[deus-ex-mona]

series i’m gatekeeping from my family vs series i’m ✨ok✨ with my family knowing i’m into:

[hecksupremechips]

Ooooooghhhhhhhhh stressed 🥺

[myobmaya]

okay so, what if you and eddie break up and the one who’s more distraught than either of you is Dustin. in his eyes, this would be worse than his parents divorcing.. he would try so hard to keep it together, but when he would see one without the other, he would just become this big crying mess and he’s begging eddie to get his shit together and try to fix it. (you can make the ending a happy one, or a v sad one! your pick! also, sorry for the sadness, I just want an author to make me cry 😅)

I fell in love with this the moment I read it. Thank you so much for the request. Your brain is just *chefs kiss*. I hope I did you justice 🖤

——-

A Little Help From My Friends

Eddie Munson x GN!reader (they/them pronouns)

TW: talks of a break up, self doubt insecurities, alcohol use, cursing

Three Weeks Ago

“Campaign’s been cancelled.”

Dustin stops doing his math homework. Mike’s pen drops from the letter he’s writing to El. Both boys look at each other and suddenly they’re reaching for the walkie talkie.

Mike is the first to grab it pressing his thumb against the button, “What? Why!”

Even after Eddie left high school he still kept up with his love of D&D and opted to host it at his trailer. He took his role as the honorary big brother to the group very seriously. He never missed a night always keeping his words to his young friends that idolized him. Confusion takes over the teenagers minds wondering what crisis would cause Munson to miss the D&D night they looked forward too.

The line stays dead for a few moments until Eddie’s voice rings through once more.

“We broke up.”

The boys look at each other in pure shock. Dustin is the first to start asking questions taking the walkie out of Mike’s hand. He asks what happened. He asks Eddie if this was a sick joke. He’s met with nothing as Eddie turns off the walkie and goes radio silent.

Eddie holds the walkie to his chest trying to collect himself. He feels his tears slip down his face and wipes them away quickly before tossing the device on the kitchen table.

The fight you two just had keeps playing in his head and he wants nothing more than to turn it off. You had came home telling him of an exciting new job offer. He was so happy for you. It was an amazing opportunity and he was on board for you taking it. But he saw how you pulled back and told him you weren’t going to take it. You would stay here. He instantly told you no and said you’d be crazy not to go. You told him he couldn’t tell you what to do. He got insecure. You got angry. One thing led to another and he was telling you there wasn’t a reason for you to stay if you didn’t have him. You didn’t get another word out. He left.

He closes his eyes but all he can see is your tear filled eyes looking right through him as he tells you he can’t continue the relationship anymore. His chest tightens and a dull ache begins to form. His eyes open and he’s back in his trailer.

He stalks over to the refrigerator, opens it, and spots a beer in the back. It’s taken out and popped open within seconds, the cool liquid running down his throat.

It had to happen. He thinks to himself. He thinks about how you don’t need him holding you back.

He thinks about grabbing another beer but ends up taking the whole pack instead. He’s downing half the bottle and heads to his room. The bedroom door is locked behind him and Eddie sinks into his bed not wanting to face the reality that he just broke up with the love of his life.

—-

Two Weeks Ago

Steve Scans the VHS tapes ready for his shift to be over. Robin sits on the counter snacking on a bag of chips she found in Steve’s backpack watching him work. Both young adults ready to be off in a few hours.

They haven’t had any but a few customers on the slow Wednesday night.

“You know you could help me and we could be done with this.”

Robin pretends to think about Steve’s suggestion and plops another chip on her tongue. “Yeah, but then that would mean you’d have nothing to do the rest of the night. Who am I to deprive you of not having to work?”

Steve rolls his eyes. Typical.

He goes to bite back but he’s cut off by the sound of the front door chiming alerting them of a customer. Robin quickly hops down and stuffs the bag of chips under the counter. She wipes her hands on her jeans clearing them of the chip dust.

“Relax, Buckley, it’s just me,” Dustin storms in throwing his backpack on the counter pushing the VHS tapes Steve just organized.

Steve yells at Dustin to be careful and Robin takes her seat back on the counter. Dustin rolls his eyes as takes in the candy options in the case. Robin sees the disheartening look on his face.

“What’s wrong, Henderson? Mommy won’t let you rent Never Ending story this week?”

Dustin’s head shoots up with glaring eyes at Robin. Robin gives him a grin letting him know it was a joke. Steve stifles back a laugh as he gets his pile back in order.

“I can’t do it anymore. It’s hurting too much,” Dustin confesses picking up a Twix bar.

Concern takes over Steve and he leans against the counter ready to console his friend. “Awh man, did you and Susie break up?”

“What? No. We’re good,” Dustin opens the candy and takes a bite out of it. “I’m talking about Eddie and-“ Steve sighs as he pats Dustin’s back cutting him off.

“Dustin we talked about this. You have to let them figure it out,” Steve tries reasons. Robin looks at both boys completely confused.

“Listen Harrington just because your relationships don’t work out doesn’t everyone else has to suffer,” Steve takes immediate offense to that statement but Dustin continues on taking another bite out of his candy, “they’re meant to be!”

Robin’s curiosity gets the best of her and she’s throwing her hands up in the air and making a T our them. “Woah. Pause. Time out here. What the hell is he talking about?”

Dustin finishes the candy bar and starts pacing back and forth. Steve leans over ready to update a very lost Robin.

“They broke up.”

“Who?”

“Eddie and—“

Dustin stops and looks at Robin annoyed that no one else is effected, “We have to do something. It’s so obvious that they belong together! They’re supposed to get married and make me the best man, dammit!”

Steve runs a hand down his face having heard the same breakdown from Dustin every night since you and Eddie broke up. Robin glances at Steve and back at a very upset Dustin. She didn’t even know you two had broken up. Why didn’t anyone tell me. Then again, she’s been busy with her own relationship she hasn’t really seen you. The thinks back to the last time she saw Eddie. It was a few days ago at the Hideout. He was very drunk and hardly recognized her, but he was there. By himself. Dustin grabs another candy bar bringing her out of her thoughts. She thinks for a moment treading carefully over her words.

“Dustin…” she pauses thinking of the right words to say, “Don’t you think they broke up for a reason?” She sees the way he immediately shakes his head not liking those words come out of her mouth. “I mean… maybe it’s what they wanted?”

“Those two idiots don’t know what they want!”

Robin gets down from the counter to stop Dustin from pacing with a hand on his shoulder. He looks at her with a defeated look. She pulls him in for a hug. It only lasts a few seconds when Dustin stands still not reciprocating it.

“Why are you so upset about this?”

Dustin sighs and takes his hat off running a hand through his curls. “I just don’t understand what happened. One day they were fine and the next Eddie is saying they’re done. I went to Eddie’s to get answers but he’s never home.”

Robin nods crossing her arms thinking of you.

“Have you seen-“

“No. I went over to talk to them but I get nothing. They wouldn’t tell me to much of what happened just told me they wanted to be left alone.”

Robin starts to see why the breakup between you and Eddie is so personal. You two were the people he turned to the most when he needed advice. When he needed an outsiders perspective looking into his situations. He loved how you and Eddie always made the bad in the world seem so good. He’s seen to many couples break up, including his own parents, for him to give up on love. And yet you and Eddie showed him that it’s okay for two people to come from two different worlds and learn to love each other. Dustin turns around and a small sniffle is heard. “It doesn’t feel right. It feels like I’m watching my parents divorce. I mean for God’s sake they practically raised me.”

Steve rolls his eyes and straightens his back as his hands meet his hips. “Ok I wouldn’t go that far. I was the original babysitter and I help you—“

“Steve this isn’t about you.”

This time Robin doesn’t hide her laugh. Poor Steve can never catch a break and Dustin is always there to remind him. Steve shakes his head knowing where Dustin is headed in his rant,

“Dustin, you gotta let them figure it out. If it’s meant to be then it’ll be. You can’t force them to work it out.”

That’s it.

Light bulbs go off in Dustin’s head. He looks at Steve as if he just created a cure for all diseases. Robin watches as Dustin runs over and grabs his backpack. His backpack knocks over the stack Steve had fixed.

“That’s it! You brilliant brilliant man!” Dustin runs to the door but stops. He turns around and runs back to the counter grabbing another Twix bar.

“Hey! You need to pay for those, Henderson!” Steve yells watching Dustin grab his bike from the front of the store. Dustin takes off and Steve looks at the mess on the floor annoyance bubbling up. Robin pulls out a five dollar bill and slips it to Steve taking care of Dustin’s candy tab.

Robin watches Steve pick up the pile.

On the other side of town Eddie plays his guitar.

You stay in bed watching your favorite movie.

And Dustin rides his bike home thinking of how he can get his favorite couple back together.

——

One Week Ago

Eddie lays on his bed as his fingers gently go up and down the guitar strings. He hums a melody that reminds him of you and the way you used to sing with him. That painful ache he’s been feeling the moment he walked away from you hasn’t left. When’s not at the Hideout he keeps himself in his room. The door stays locked. It keeps him keep from knocking on your door asking for forgiveness. To prevent himself from telling you that he misses not only his lover, but his best friend. In the years of being side by side next to you, he’s never felt so lonely. He misses you. Your smile fills his mind.

Stop it.

Eddie stops playing and sits up. The back of his palms rub against his closed lids. Eddie gets up and puts his guitar back on his wall grabbing his jacket from the chair. His mind is set going to the Hideout.

Eddie opens the door preparing to leave but he’s immediately stop when fist fly at his chest. The person stumbles across the threshold but Eddie is quick to catch them in his arms. He pulls them up by the shirt in their back and is shocked to see who is visitor is.

“Henderson? What brings you here? To my humble adobe? To assault me?” Each question getting less enthusiastic and more sarcastic.

Dustin fixes himself pulling down his shirt taking a breath in. Eddie takes note of his bike thrown on the ground outside. Sweat lines the collar of Dustin’s shirt. His cheeks tinted red .

“I- I was trying to,” Dustin struggles with his breathing. Eddie places a hand on his shoulder and turns Dustin around kicking the front door shut with his boot. He sits Dustin down on the couch before getting him some water to cool him down.

Dustin take a gulp out of the cup Eddie gives him and places his hands on his knees. He takes a deep breath in and blows out into the air as if candles were in front of him. He’s exhausted.

Eddie stands against the wall opposite of the couch patiently waiting for an explanation.

“I wanted to see you. I saw your van and knew you were home. I was about to knock on the door right as you opened it.”

Eddie gives Dustin a stoic expression.

Dustin flashes him a smile, “I miss you, Eddie.” That breaks Eddie and he’s smiling back at Dustin. The two remained close even after Eddie finished high school in the past year. He hadn’t seen Dustin or anyone for that matter since the break up. You, Dustin and Eddie were all very close taking him in as a brother. He wonders how Dustin felt not hearing from him.

Eddie begins to feel guilty with the sudden cut off he’s had with everyone, especially with Dustin as he looks at him with the tired look on his face. Eddie doesn’t live near him and the weather still had it’s hot moments. Judging from the sweat lining his shirt Eddie knows Dustin went out of his way to see him and check up on him. Only Dustin Henderson would go out of his way to check up on Eddie Munson. Dustin is a real friend to him despite him ignoring him and the outside world. And that’s why Eddie doesn’t make him turn around and leave, he lets him relax on his couch.

Dustin let’s a comfortable silence pass before asking him the question he’s been avoiding for the past three weeks. His voice is quiet when he gets the courage to ask Eddie.

“What happened, Eddie?”

Eddie isn’t frozen by the question. He knew it was coming. Yet he doesn’t seem prepared by it. A chuckle comes out of Eddie as he shrugs his shoulders. He pushes himself off the wall needing a taste of alcohol.

“Nothing, man. All is good here.”

Lies.

Dustin doesn’t say anything as he watches Eddie take a beer from the fridge. Eddie opens the bottle tossing the cap into the trash before taking a swing out of it.

“As a matter of fact, I couldn’t be better!” Eddie begins his way back to Dustin.

Eddie takes another drink sitting down next to Dustin. Dustin scoots over seeing the strong front Eddie is so desperately trying to build crumble with every word.

“I mean I graduated right? I finally did it. I’m getting more gigs. And I’m not needing to sell as much anymore!” Dustin is surprised to learn that Eddie isn’t dealing as often as he was and he’s happy for his friend. Still, despite his new success coming with the band, he knows it’s all a front. Eddie thinks back to the argument. Eddie remembers being so excited for you. He genuinely was. But his fears of holding you back came in strong. 

Eddie looks at Dustin with a fake smile plastered on his face. Dustin can only give him a half hearted smile letting him know he sees right through him. Eddie’s own falls and tears well up in his eyes. Eddie bites his bottom lip looking up at the ceiling willing himself not to break down in front of Dustin.

“I fucked up, man. I miss them so fucking much.”

Dustin pats Eddie’s shoulder before bringing him in for a side hug. Eddie knows Dustin’s aware of his emotional state. The way he’s closed himself off from the people he loves scares himself. He pulls himself away dragging his hand over his face to collect the few tears that escaped. He knows Dustin isn’t here for small talk. He’s here for a reason.

“I know, Eddie. It’s time for you to grow some balls and get them back.”

—-

Present Day

It was 9:30 p.m. on a Saturday night. You pull up to the parking lot of the family video store seeing Steve’s car parked up front with the hood open. The lights are on inside giving you a clear vision of Steve on the phone while Robin reads a magazine. She sees you and hits Steve’s shoulder telling him you arrived. The store closed 30 minutes and both of your friends were stranded leaving you as the designated knight in shinning armor to pick them up. Robin peaks her head through the front door and waves at you before stepping outside. You roll down your window as she approaches with a shy smile on her face.

“Thanks for taking us home. Dingus is on the phone trying to get a tow,” Robin explains leaning against your door. You nod understanding the frustration Steve must be feeling trying to find car service after hours in a small town.

Robin convinces you to come inside in the meantime promising it shouldn’t be much longer. You happily agree seeing as the weather was getting colder at night and you didn’t want to use anymore gas to heat up your car while you waited for Steve.

You both make your way inside where you’re met with a very upset Steve. “Awh, c’mon man! I can’t leave my car here overnight! It’s probably just the battery can’t you just send someone to jump it?” Steve throws his hands in the air. Poor Steve just can’t catch a break. Robin looks at you and you immediately follow her to the break room. It’s a small room. Just enough for small table and microwave shoved in the corner; but it makes sense seeing as the store employees three people at a time. The smell of popcorn fills your senses as you sit down on one of the chairs.

Robin opens the microphone and takes out a bowl of popcorn shoving a handful in her mouth. She offers you the bowl but you politely tell her no hearing Steve yell out a frustrated cry in the background. You and Robin exchange a glance of worry but choose not to say anything opting to ask her how work was today.

On the other side of the store Steve calls the last mechanic in the yellow book praying they’re still open. He’s in the middle of hearing the fourth ring when the store door is opened and two familiar mops of hair walk in.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Steve murmurs just as the line goes dead on the other line. Dustin flashes him a toothy smile that tells him he has something to do with his car troubles.

Eddie holds two cable jumpers in his hand and Steve sees his van is parked right next to his. Eddie looks nervous glancing around the store. It’s clear he saw your car in the parking lot and knows you’re here.

“Heard you were having some car troubles. Figured Eddie could lend you a hand,” Dustin says not so casually. Steve rolls his eyes knowing that Dustin was 100% responsible for this. He wants to question how Dustin even knew about his car but knowing Dustin, and does Steve ever, he knows he planned this very well. Steve takes in Eddie and notices the way he fidgets with the cables in his hand. Eddie clearly has no prior knowledge of you being here.

Dammit, Dustin. Steve steps from behind the counter pointing a finger at Dustin. “I don’t know what you did but I know you’re responsible for this.”

Dustin only grins at his friend shrugging his shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steve huffs at him as he turns around and guides Eddie outside to help him with his car trouble. Dustin waits for the two men to walk outside before he’s running back to the break room.

You’re in the middle of listening to Robin talk about a new movie coming out when Dustin makes his appearance by the door. It’s been a couple days since he stopped by your house to check on you but he still manages to get a smile out of you. You take in his backpack and glance at the clock on the wall hanging above the threshold. Concern takes over and you can’t help the questions that begin to rise.

“What are you doing here, D? The store is closed and it’s past 9:30 at night.”

A fake look of shock paints across his face as he place a hand over his heart. “What! Oh. Yes. You’re right. Ha. Ha ha. I just saw Steve’s car and figured he needed help.”

You look at Robin who only gives you an attempt of a smile but fails miserably with the guilt right behind it. Dustin walks over and opens up his backpack taking his walkie out and placing it on the table. He picks it up only to knock over Robin’s bowl of popcorn causing her to groan out in frustration.

“Oh well you look at that. I’m such a cluts!” His tone is robotic and almost rehearsed. He’s up to something. You cock an eyebrow at him about to question him when Robin sees your mind catching on. She stands up and grabs Dustin by his backpack.

“Dustin why don’t you go see if Steve needs help with his car,” She holds emphasis on car. The two look at each other, Dustin taking in her sentence before the light bulb goes off in his head. He claps his hands and nods enthusiastically.

“Yup! You’re right. Ha. Ha ha.” He looks at you and then at Robin. A smile is on his face as a moment passes by. Robin rolls her eyes and pushes him towards the door reminding him to keep to the plan.

Robin sees you about to ask her what that was about but beats you to it telling you everything is perfectly okay. She walks to the door and turns to you, “I’m going to get a broom.” She looks at the popcorn. You offer to help her but she insists she can do it. With that she closes the break room door leaving you confused as ever.

It only takes five minutes and Steve’s car is up and running perfectly fine. Both boys turn off their cars and hop out. Steve shakes Eddie’s hand thanking him for the help which Eddie only nods in return. Eddie is ready to leave to avoid any crossover with you. Dustin sees Eddie go back to his van. Eddie tells Dustin to hop in so they can go. Dustin happens to start coughing in that moment gaining attention from both men.

“You okay, Henderson?” Both men say simultaneously. They look at each other with an eyebrow raise for a second before turning back to the teenager.

Dustin bends over holding his chest. “Need water! Eddie go get me water! Steve stay here and get me my inhaler!”

Steve shakes his head at Dustin. It’s very obvious Dustin’s faking his actions. “You don’t have an inhaler-“

“Water, Eddie! Dammit I need water I’m dying here!”

Eddie doesn’t question it seeing his friend in distraught. He jogs to the door stopping as right before he opens it. He sees Steve begrudgingly open the backpack looking for his inhaler. Weird, didn’t know Henderson had asthma.

“Water?” He calls out his question.

Dustin waves his hand forward as he dramatically falls into Steve’s arms. “Break room!” Eddie turns back and makes his way there.

Steve pushes Dustin off of him. Dustin snatches his backpack out of Steve’s and gets his spare walkie out of it. Steve goes to tell Dustin off but stops when he sees Robin peak up from behind the counter. She managed to hide herself tucked up in the corner waiting for her signal. She sees Eddie’s hair bounce across the store straight to her target. Steve and Dustin watch as Robin sneaks up behind Eddie.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Dustin shushes Steve. Robin waits for Eddie to open the door taking her key out her pocket. He stands frozen in shock seeing you sitting right there. Robin takes the opportunity and pushes him inside, closing the door and locking it from the outside. Dustin throws out a victory punch in the air loving the execution.

“Seriously? You got Robin involved?” Steve asks completely caught off guard. Dustin shushes him waiting for the thumbs up from Robin that you and Eddie were locked.

“How did you even get to my car? It’s parked up front,” Steve wonders leaning against his car. Dustin waves a hand at Steve dismissing him. Steve watches as Dustin takes a seat on the hood of the car.

“I didn’t do anything. Robin waited until Stacy and her friends came in. She knew you’d be distracted long enough to get to your car and run your lights to drain your battery.”

Steve tries to defend himself. He is not that easily distracted. Robin gives Dustin a thumbs up and the teenager gets his walkie ready to get his favorite couple back together.

——

You stare up at your ex with wide eyes. He looks at you as if you’ve grown a third eye. Both of you say nothing taking each other in for the first time in weeks. Eddie’s hair is pulled back in a low bun. Lose strands frame his face so beautifully. You want to tuck them behind his ear but stop yourself. His eyes are puffy and his skin looks dry. Your under eyes are darker looking as if sleep hasn’t been welcoming to you.

Both of you look like a wreck.

The walkie on the table beeps in jumping you both out of your daze. Attention love birds. Operation: Parent Trap has been initiated.

Son of a bitch, Henderson. Eddie hits the palm of his forehead. You stay quiet watching him. Eddie takes a hesitant step towards you to reach the device.

“Henderson, whatever you’re doing, knock it off.”

You keep your eyes on Eddie knowing he’s avoiding your contact. Of course he is, he’s been avoiding you the past 3 weeks.

“Time to man up, Munson. You’ll be let out once you guys talk it out.” The sound of Steve’s voice surprises you. You never took Steve as the type to get involved. Interesting.

Eddie curses Steve but he’s only met with silence.

Deciding it’s now or never you kick your foot out to the chair opposite of you. It screeches obnoxiously startling Eddie. It’s your way of offering him to sit down. He stands in front of you with a weary expression. You simply hold your arms to your chest giving him a nonchalant nod. You have nothing to be embarrassed for. He’s the one that ended things to hastily. Not you. Deciding that Dustin will keep his word and you just want answers of your own you take the route that’s natural for you.

“This is a bit extreme don’t you think?”

Eddie nods in agreement taking you up on your silent offer. He sits down in the chair. “It’s a Dustin idea. Of course it’s extreme.”

You both chuckle at that statement. Genuine smiles for the first time in three weeks. It feels good but so bittersweet at the same time. Silence fills the air as soon as the laughter ends.

Eddie feels the back of his neck getting hot feeling you stare at him. He knows he shouldn’t do it, yet he looks up at you. Guilt rushes to him and he so badly wants to hug you and tell you he’s sorry for being an ass and ending things. He wants to say the things he should have said instead telling you it was over.

You see the fight in his eyes. His fingers cross over each other cracking the air bubbles in between before he rests his knuckle against his mouth. You know he still loves you. People who are no longer in love don’t look at you the way Eddie does.

“You gonna talk to me now, Eddie? Or are you still running away from me?”

He closes his eyes hearing how soft your voice is. He’s missed it so much. He’s missed you. The moment he left your house he’s missed you.

“No.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer and he immediately realizes he already said the wrong thing again.

“I mean no I’m not going to run away from you. I’m here I want to talk.” He stops and thinks about his next sentence hoping it doesn’t come out wrong. “Only if that’s okay. If you’ll let me explain myself.”

You lean back in the chair crossing your legs out in front of you. If he wants to ever speak to you again he better start doing so himself.

“Please do explain yourself, Eddie. Please tell me how we were literally fine and within minutes you decided we weren’t.” You don’t mean to bring up that night so hastily but you have no choice but too. He left you with no answer as to why.

Eddie slides his head down to meet his closed fist. You watch him battle himself internally. His eyes are closed and he wants to shut down again. You see him begin to struggle and out of instinct you lean across the table and place your hand on top of his. He instantly relaxes to your touch.

“You gotta give me something here, Ed’s.” You slide your thumb over the back of his hand. Your voice is no longer hard. Even though you know in your heart it’s not true you still find yourself seeking confirmation. “If you don’t love me—”

His head shoots up shaking furiously. He cuts you off immediately letting you know that statement is all but true. “Loving you isn’t the issue. It’s not the issue at all.”

The pain settled in your heart begins to chip away. You knew that already but you needed to hear him confirm it. “Then what is it? Was it the job offer?”

Eddie looks down not wanting to see the shame in your eyes. He can deal with everyone telling him he’s a disappointment. But the moment he sees it in your eyes he know he’ll never come back from that. He can deal with the world not believing in him as long as you’re the one to cheer him on.

“It’s me.”

You ask what he means by that. Eddie lets out a huff. He doesn’t want to tell you how he’s feeling. If he tells you that he’s scared of holding you back then you’ll realize you can be with someone who can offer you more. Not the small town drug dealer that took longer to graduate.

But when you stare at him with zero judgement in your eyes that’s all it takes for Eddie to gather his thoughts. You patiently wait for him to gather what he needs to say. Just like you always do when you know he needs to process and execute his words properly. “I wasn’t mad at you for getting the job offer. I was proud of you. I am proud of you. You’re going to go off and do great things. Be whatever you want.” He sees the way you suck in your bottom lip to keep yourself from interrupting him. “But, I’m not destined for that. This is the best I’m going to get. And that’s why we need to stop this. I can’t be the one to hold you back. I won’t be the reason you stay.”

You feel your heart break again, but this time it’s for the man in front of you, not because of him. How could he think so low of himself? How could he make a decision based on his insecurities? How could he think he’s doing what’s best for you? A mix of frustration and annoyance builds.

“Eddie Munson, you are one stupid man if you think for a second I’m going to let you decide what’s good for me!”

He goes to speak but you immediately cut him off. “I’ve loved you for how many years now? I’ll continue to do so because it’s what I want. I want you. You don’t get to sit here and decide who I can and cannot love. Yes, the job offer I got is amazing but I’ll get another one because I know what they’re offering isn’t enough. And do you know how I know that?”

You don’t wait for his reply instead standing up from your seat. He watches you with wide eyes. “Because you are the one who taught me to forget the social norm and do what calls out to me.” You have a finger shooting at him to get your point across. “This job offer isn’t it for me. But maybe the next one will. And maybe I’ll take it. Maybe I won’t. I don’t know. You don’t know. But all I know is that when that time comes we’ll cross that bridge together. Because that’s what we do. We make decision together, Eddie.”

Eddie only stares up at you seeing the passion in your eyes. You hold zero judgement or hatred to him. His fall back down to his hands. His voice is barely above a whisper.

“You deserve better. I don’t know if I can give you that.”

Frustration leaves and you begin to see the insecurity laying on the surface of his emotions. You feel yourself get sad. How can he not see what you see in him? You tell him to look up at you. He doesn’t.

“Look at me.”

You step away from the table. You squat down to be eye level with him. To be equal with him. You gently grab his face in between your hands. He looks at you and disappointment never comes across your face.

“Eddie Munson the world doesn’t deserve you, yet here you are. You are too hard on yourself. I love you. I didn’t know you’d be it for me but the moment you let me into your world I knew I’d love nothing more than to forever be with you. I love you, Eddie. I do. But you don’t get to decide what’s good for me and what’s not. You’re it for me.”

“But-“ you shake your head. If only you could take away his insecurities of being good enough you’d do it in a heartbeat. You wish so desperately he could see the good that you see in him. You wish you could take away any negative thoughts he has about himself. Just like he wishes you were nicer to yourself. How he wishes you’d never get into your head with negative thoughts. The two of you tended to be so wrapped up in trying to help each other you both forgot to take care of yourselves in the process.

“No buts. You love me. I love you. We love each other. We fight. We make up. We take care of each other. But it needs to start with us first, Eddie.”

He leans forward and captures your lips. You keep your hands on his face while his hands hold onto the sides of your neck. There’s nothing sexual behind the kiss. Just two people desperate to tell each other how much they love one another.

He isn’t the one to pull back. He never wants to be the one to pull back ever again, emotionally and physically. You lean your forehead against his both of you masking each other in.

“Don’t ever doubt us, again.”

He nods letting go of your neck to get ahold of your fingers. Both of your pinkies lock around each other and he kisses your knuckle. “I promise I won’t ever doubt us again.” You repeat his actions, the pinky promise bond ensuring your word to each other.

Eddie helps you stand up and you pick up the walkie talkie. You give him one last kisses before pressing the button. “Time to tell our love child mommy and daddy are back together.” Eddie laughs at your comment taking your hand in his. It only takes a few moments and the door is open revealing a shy faced Robin. You give her a thumbs up telling her all is well. She squeals with excitement. You feel Eddie pull you into him. Eddie and you make your way up to the front with her trailing right behind to lock up the store. Dustin can be heard celebrating with Steve outside who tells him to get in the car so he can take him home.

Both of you are just reaching the front store doors when Eddie’s curiosity gets the best of him.

“Wait,” you stop and look at him giving your full attention .

He eyes you suspiciously. “Whose mommy and whose daddy?”

You can only laugh when you hear Robin give a fake gag hearing the innuendo in his tone. You lean forward placing a sweet peak on his lips. He pulls back as you throw him a wink. “We have three weeks to make up for. Let’s go back to your place and find out.”

[aixicl]

See you again,

Bada Lee x fem reader

Summary: After you both agree to part ways, your paths cross unexpectedly.

Cw: exes :(, angst (?).

Wc: 6k.

Pls read : I’ve decided to put all parts (1 2 & 3) into one single fic because it’s not that long. For the babes that already read the first 2 parts, before the beginning of every chapter I added numbers so I’d be easier for you to scroll to your desired chapter🤍

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡

(1)

''So, you're going to be back soon. Right?''

Soobin asked, her tone uneasy. Even tho you told her numerous times that you won't just disappear forever and once the leaves begin to fall and change colors you'll rock the streets of Seoul again. Until then, you'll fly as far as your wings take you. It's not like you did anything wrong. You decided to leave after all. 

''Wild, young & free'' as some would describe, as she would describe. Until you weren't free anymore, your thoughts kept you imprisoned in your mind. 

''Yeah girlie, you know how hard I worked to get in.'' 

For a long time, you've wondered what you're into—having an identity crisis every time you see her dancing with such passion. You admire her wholeheartedly, but you can't help feeling jealous since there wasn't anything there for you. Your mom took you to piano classes, swimming, and even judo. She tried her best to expand your horizons and you're grateful for that but it never really worked out. Until in your early teens, you discovered your burning passion for writing, having the power to control every reply, scene, or character you desire. It's like the alphabet was made for you just to write cheeky stories that she would giggle at. Words being placed thoughtfully in your love letters to her.

''I can't wait for you to get back home. I will get reallyyy mad if we don't go out drinking before uni." The younger girl giggled over the phone. But the word ''home'' stuck to you like a bandage. You're the type of person that considers ''home'' wherever the heart is but where is your home when your heart is all over the place? 

You're just lying to yourself. You know exactly where home is. Home was the queen-sized bed you once shared, with the messy sheets you were too lazy to arrange since you knew in less than 24 hours it would be the same. Home was the kitchen where you would fail yet another recipe trying to surprise her with a yummy meal after her dance class. Home was anywhere she was really. Too bad she’s so far away now. That doesn’t mean you’re homeless tho. Many tried to offer you a room in their hearts, but it just wasn’t the same. The best you could do was try. Going on dates, even being a fan of dating apps until you gave up. Her presence scarred you so deeply that you subconsciously compared every romantic interest to her, her jokes, her compliments, her touch, her way of being. 

“Did she get in?” the girl who once was your biggest relationship enthusiast asked, knowing how the story unfolded.

“How am I supposed to know? Is there any reason I would be interested? I haven’t spoken to her in months.” 

“Forget it, why are we even talking about her? Call me when you arrive. I’ll talk to Seoyoung and Taeyoung and maybe we can go out and have cheap drinks like we did back in the day!”

You had a happy childhood, loving parents and lots of friends and you even had a best friend since primary school! Funny how a best friend turns into someone you love and then into someone you don't know at all-isn't life funny? 

During the past two months, you traveled around Europe. Finding beautiful places that make you enjoy the moment, finding beautiful people, beautiful moments. Peace. Traveling was one of the things you truly enjoyed. She once promised you’d go to Lyon and Basilicata together. You ended up going by yourself. Maybe it was better this way. 

Even though you were surrounded by people there were still moments when you felt alone and rather than being sad, you tried to enjoy being by yourself and embrace the quiet. Your life was so noisy until it all just stopped. You just accepted it. 

The familiar streets make the corners of your mouth turn upright. The convenience store right around the corner from your childhood apartment, the sun shining brightly on your street, and the kids that just left school flooding the now-crowded street gave you a familiar feeling. Comfort. 

“You are so beautiful.” your mother said while embracing you tightly, clearly noticing the subtle changes in your looks. Your skin is now sun-kissed thanks to Sardinia beach, your hair is slightly shorter and darker since you couldn’t skip the hair salons in Paris, and your cheeks are more plump since you’re not the one to refuse a delicious dish. 

“You just came back and you are leaving again in a few days. If you don’t come to visit me on Sundays I won’t send you any food ever again!” your mom said sarcastically. Truth is, you would like to spend more time with her but now you’re too caught up with the new school year starting. 

You’re officially a student in creative writing & linguistics and even got accepted as #13. Your mother couldn’t help but brag to her friends about your success in joining such a prestigious university. She was shocked. She wasn’t aware you planned to join this university a long time ago, alongside her. 

“How’s Bada? Are you guys still mad? Is an 11 year old friendship worth throwing away?”

Bada was well acquainted with your mother. Sometimes you thought your mom loves her more than she loves you. Bada infiltrated in your life so well that it came as a surprise to everybody that the two best friends who held hands just stopped talking. No reason behind it. 

“You still haven’t told me what happened.”

“Mom please I just arrived home don’t make me wanna leave again” You came off as a bit harsh but Bada was a dead subject to you. At day you would pretend you never came across Bada Lee, at night you would remember the way her hands softly caressed your waist and how your lips perfectly fit hers. You cut her off exactly how your hair stylist cut your split ends in Paris. But hair always eventually grows back.

Your childhood bedroom became the center of your attention for the next seven days as you discovered many random things while packing for uni. Old textbooks from high school, many hair accessories, polaroids with her, some dried up hand cream. Small things that were core memories for you. Your room is being filled up with 2 types of carton boxes: to take & to throw.

Most of the items you decided to throw were just straight up trash, one of her baggy t-shirts that still had her scent on it being included. Some stuff you decided to keep was necessities, toiletries, some pictures you took together just in case you made up again, etc. She was already half out of your heart, the other half made sure your heart was beating rapidly only for her. Did she also throw out your stuff? Did she keep it?? 

Across the street, things were pretty much the same.  

“Make sure you eat well. Did you pack everything?”

Mrs. Lee made sure to check up on her daughter. She was indeed a very caring mother. 

The girl let out a loud sigh saying, “Yeah, I’ll check again before leaving. There's still plenty of time left." 

“You always do that honey, wait until the last minute. Go check it now! We won’t have time to add everything to the boxes in the morning!” said the older woman worriedly. 

She went back to her room. The framed picture on her desk watched her every move, constantly reminding her of what was. Something in her not being able to throw it away, it was already there for 2 years. But sometimes she did turn the photo upside down, usually when she had other women over.

 It was her 17th birthday. Your smiles were brighter than the flashlight itself, your cheeks flushed after so many shots your mother would destroy you for drinking. It was the night your relationship exploded. 

“Is it wrong that I really want to kiss you?” You asked quietly, embarrassed by how close she was, her body firmly pressing against yours.

“Why would it be?” she says flatly. 

As you take a deep breath, you think to yourself: ''Fuck it.'' It doesn't take long for your hands to reach her face. You lean in and kiss her, feeling her heart racing against yours. She melts into your arms, immersing herself in your arms as you explore each other's lips. You pull away and look into her eyes, feeling a connection deeper than anything you've ever felt before. You both smile, savoring the moment and knowing that this is the beginning of something new. The color of your lipstick now staining her lips and her mind. She runs her fingers over your lips feeling the warmth and softness of your skin, as she says softly: 

''This is how it's supposed to be."

 You lean in and kiss her again, this time with more passion and intensity until you have to pull away to catch your breath. That was the first of many makeouts in Bada's bedroom.

In the first place, you were just supposed to change your shirt since somehow a glass of champagne ended up on your clothes, and Bada one way or another managed to trap you in front of the closet. Shit happens.

That night the now dried shirt stuck to your skin, the idea of anything else instead of the girl in front of you being long forgotten. 

To be sincere, you always held the power to pull anything you wanted without really trying. And you pulled Bada Lee into a complete black hole that night. Unaware that your souls are tied so tightly that at one point they'll burst. And unfortunately, that happened faster than any of you anticipated. 

(2)

''You're Y/N, right?" the thrilled girl asked. She had a unique appearance. The mole on her nose easily distinguished her from a crowd you thought. Flashy nails, long hair, bright clothes, and a bubbly personality were the main characteristics of your new roommate.

''Yeah! It seems like we're stuck together for a while. And you are?''

''I'm Hyerim, I'm in the dance department! I love your outfit! Where did you get that cardigan? This color looks flattering on you!" she says rapidly with a wide smile.

You hit the jackpot for the first time in a long time. On your way to the dorm, your thoughts are filled with the idea of having a demon as a roommate. You had already created a scenario of what to do just in case the person you need to spend the whole school year with together is insufferable. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. For the next 2 hours, you and Hyerim had a blast, talking about anything & everything while unpacking. You both laughed and joked around, and you felt a sense of relief when you realized you wouldn't have to deal with a roommate who wasn't pleasant. You two got along great and you were excited to spend the next year together. You just clicked. As the first week of school passed you realized Hyerim was the hyperactive little sister you never had.

''There's this party next door, one of my friends invited me.'' Your new friend proposed as her eyes sparkled with excitement. ''Do you want to go with me? My friend will bring her girlfriend and I don't want to be the third wheel." The girl pouts.

''Sure, I feel like drinking anyway.'' You said chuckling. Back in the day, you attended every party you possibly could, earning admirable alcohol tolerance. You're making people take notice of you tonight since you have the whole pack to survive a frat party.

You and Hyerim took your time carefully arranging every rhinestone around your eyes. There was a heated debate about what lipstick color would look best with her charismatic outfit.

As you stepped into the party, vibrant energy engulfed the house. The music filled every corner, blending with the laughter and already sweaty bodies of many young adults. The dorm was a mess, filled with more alcoholic drinks than you can count. The smell of vanilla body spray and cheap cigarettes reeked in the living room. You genuinely wondered how so many people could fit into such a small apartment. As you scanned the room, you noticed a familiar face. You smiled and waved, and Soobin quickly made her way to you, giving you a warm embrace.

''So it seems like our drinking plan is finally happening." she laughed while scanning you up and down. ''Who are you trying to attract tonight Miss Martini? If I was into women you would've been my first choice.'' Soobin said while smirking.

Earlier while Hyerim went to touch up her makeup, you wandered to the kitchen where you found some unknown version of martini that was already half empty. You didn't care that the now-empty drink would be the cause of your headache tomorrow. All you wanted was to have fun. The alcohol helped you to keep your thoughts foggy. You grabbed one drink after another and gulped it down in one go. You felt a rush of warmth spreading through your body and you felt yourself becoming more confident and daring. You felt like you could take on the world. You danced and sang along with Soobin. You were living in the moment, without a care in the world. You were having the time of your life.

''Y/N I'VE SEARCHED FOR YOU EVERYWHERE!'' Hyerim screamed trying to make her voice louder than the music. The girl next to her looked dumbfounded. ''This is my friend Dohee. I've told you about her before! Her oreo girlfriend will arrive later so until then it's the four of us.'' She said while showing Soobin a big smile.

Meanwhile, Hyerim and Soobin were discussing a movie you've never heard of and your eyes couldn't stop traveling to Dohee's sour expression. It was such a shame, a beautiful girl frowning. Her red-coated luscious lips are paralyzed, the leather jacket accentuating her small figure so well. Whoever is making the alluring-looking women wait is a real loser, you think. But you're here, with her, right now, in the moment. Who can blame you for wanting to steal a smile from the girl's face?

''I guess your girlfriend is not coming hm?'' You asked quietly, trying not to make the girl explode. She looks like she could burst into crying any moment now. While asking her, you carefully put your arm around her shoulders.

''Yeah. She stood me up again." Dohee sighed then went on and told you how the girl whose appearance won't be seen tonight isn't actually her girlfriend but rather a friend with benefits she's too scared to admit she has feelings for. She told you the unknown woman told her she wasn't interested in any emotional relationship and she just had to accept it. You wondered if the cause of her being so open about this subject was the cup full of plain vodka or if she just was so desperate for someone to hear her out, to look into her soulful eyes and say ''I care''. Regardless of that, you were ready to be there for her even if it was for a short time.

''She's such a fool. I hope you're aware of that. Someone like you doesn't deserve to be treated like that, tossed around like a simple washcloth. Forget about her tonight. Things will get better like they always have.'' You told her while giving a genuine smile, slowly putting your hand on top of hers.

''You really mean that?'' She says smirking while looking at your hands that are now intertwined.

One conversation led to another, and you and Dohee ended up outside sharing a cigarette she pulled from her bra. Even tho you met only 3 hours ago the silence between you two wasn't awkward, but rather comforting. The moon shone down, illuminating your faces as you stood together. Dohee couldn't help but ask you:

"You look familiar. Are you sure our paths haven't crossed before?" Her expression grows nervous. She knew exactly where she saw you before but was too drunk and confused to link things.

''If I had seen you before I would've remembered, but besides that, I doubt I would've let you go." You respond confidently with a grin.

''I've told you so much about me and I don't really know anything about you.." She told you wistfully.

You went on and told her small details about you, such as your 2 month trip and your passion for writing. Nothing too significant but enough to be considered an acquaintance instead of a stranger. She took a moment and studied your face, admiring the eyes she was jealous of every time her romantic interest forgot to hide the picture on her desk. No wonder Bada kept your picture somewhere visible. You were too beautiful to not be looked at. Maybe that's why Bada hid the picture every time she came over, to not fall in love with you instead of her. At first, she envied you for looking so happy next to her. She envied the fact that Bada's smile looked genuine next to yours. Two stars standing next to each other so closely couldn't be any good she thought, unaware of the fact that you and Bada eventually collided, merging into an even brighter star than you currently are. Unfortunately, that star didn't survive long as it was pulled into a black hole, but it died gloriously in a tidal disruption event.

She smiled and gave you a warm look. She took your hand in hers and brought you closer, her touch sending a spark of electricity through your body. It's been a while since you kissed someone but you sure wouldn't mind her touch. When the gap between you closed, your cherry lips met her strawberry ones. Weird combination of flavors but it works. One bitter and the other one sweet.

Your hands shamelessly roam her body, not knowing in the distance that someone is enjoying this as much as you. Instead of focusing on the one she spent the last night with, her eyes are only focusing on your figure, observing the way you fiercely grab the other girl's hips pulling her even closer to you. It's been a while since she last saw you, especially like this but you still managed to make her freeze on the spot. For a moment Bada recalled a time when you simply kissed her. It wasn't something meaningful at all, just how your plump lips sat on hers. At the same time, it was amusing for her that you just kissed the girl she casually used to forget about the emotions she drowned in because of you. Following her heart always leads her to you.

Dohee pulled away when her phone suddenly rang, her face suddenly becoming bitter. You went inside to give her privacy. In the living room, you find Soobin and Hyerim ''dancing'' if it even can be called that, barely being capable of standing on their own feet. They quickly pull you into their little dancing circle forcing you to dance with them. There was no choice other than to give in and take pictures to have a good laugh later on. The laughter didn't last long as Dohee came in with the tall, 2 colored hair woman holding hands.

''What the fuck..'' Soobin whispered to you while catching a glimpse of Bada.

You were drunk but not drunk enough to not notice Bada and her changed appearance. The once blue hair you encouraged her to dye was gone, now weirdly but cutely resembling an oreo and one thing about oreos is that you couldn't resist them, being ideal for your picky taste buds. The not overly sweet cookie fits your dessert criteria perfectly, just like you and Bada's hands fit each other perfectly but that was long forgotten.

''There they are! Let's play spin the bottle now!" Hyerim exclaimed while sending Dohee a wink. It was obvious she was trying to make her friend happy and maybe give her the chance to kiss the girl she spent sleepless nights crying over. However, Hyerim wouldn't let her teenagey thoughts win if she knew the way Bada used to smile at you, nevertheless, it was too late for that because you and a few other people gathered in a circle.

Hyerim went over the ''rules'' quickly, saying if you don't want to kiss the other person you have to take a shot of whatever alcohol was left. Everyone agreed, eagerly to kiss one another or just drink some more. In the first round, the bottle landed on Hyerim and Soobin. They shared a peck playfully without any hesitation. You were up next, the cap of the bottle stopped between Bada and Dohee, the in-love girl clearly not thinking it through because she was too excited to be staying so close to the woman next to her, obviously they won't kiss at all since they aren't sitting on the opposite of each other.

''Okay Y/N who are you gonna kiss??" Hyerim said full of curiosity, a little afraid of the decision you have to make.

''You don't have to kiss anyone Y/N. It's just a stupid game.'' Soobin babbled.

''Dohee.'' You said firmly while looking straight into her eyes. She couldn't handle all the eyes on her, especially yours and Bada's so her view dropped to the bottle in front of her.

''I-'' Dohee gasped trying to form a sentence unsuccessfully, not only because of her drunken state and emotions but because another voice chimed in.

"Kiss her." Bada assented. "It's not like you haven't kissed her before. Kiss her." She repeated smirking while your eyes locked. You won't lie, the multi-colored hair really fits her, just as she thought about how well the rhinestones make your eyes pop.

You grabbed Dohee's face and kissed her. Now you'd blame it on the martini but you specifically bit her lip just right in order to earn a moan from her and a sneer from Bada.

''I'm so calling Taeyoung right now..'' Soobin mumbled trying to remember her passcode in order to call your friend to tell her the shit show she just missed.

(3)

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension and unspoken words, especially between you, Dohee, and Bada. The game of spinning the bottle continued, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment your lips met Dohee's and the mixed emotions that flashed across Bada's face.

After a few more rounds and a couple of awkward kisses, the game fizzled out, the participants either too drunk or too distracted by their own thoughts. Hyerim, with her ever-bubbling energy, suggested a change in activity, but the mood had shifted. The party was winding down, people were starting to leave or find a spot to crash for the night.

You decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air, the stuffiness of the room becoming too much. As you leaned against the railing of the small balcony, you felt the cool night air brush against your skin, sobering you up a bit. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, images of Dohee's surprised face and Bada's unreadable expression swirling in your mind.

"Mind if I join you?" a voice asked from behind. You turned to see Bada stepping out onto the balcony, closing the door behind her. The noise from the party became a dull murmur, giving you both a semblance of privacy.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here tonight." you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bada leaned against the railing beside you, looking out into the night. "I could say the same about you." she replied. "Seems like we both can't escape each other's orbit, no matter how hard we try. Every time I forget about us you hunt me down." She giggled, earning a chuckle from you.

The silence that followed was heavy, laden with unspoken words and memories of a past relationship that had ended in a whirlwind of emotions. You both knew that whatever had been between you was in the past, yet the remnants of those feelings still lingered.

As the moon cast a shimmering glow on the sandy beach, Bada and you found yourselves walking hand in hand along the shoreline. The sound of crashing waves provided a soothing soundtrack to the unspoken connection between you. With each step, the love between you became replaced by a renewed sense of fear. It might be time to stop swimming into the Sea, maybe it's time to dry yourself off from the sticky saltwater that's been on your skin for so long that it started cracking. As your wounds started to deepen the saltwater couldn't be any good. The stinging sensation was trying to catch your attention, to alarm you that something was wrong but to no avail. You kept swimming and swimming until you couldn't see the shore anymore. That's when you realized you had got lost. In your next life maybe you'll be a fish, that way you and the Sea wouldn't hurt each other. In the one after that maybe you'll be a dog, sleeping at the foot of your owner's bed if it means you get to be on it. You will be just like how she loves you. You will continue to be patient, just as you were in this lifetime. Maybe in another life if it couldn't be in this one.

''I didn't think we'd grow apart so soon.'' Bada's husky voice made goosebumps spread all over your body as her face was now close to your ear, back hugging you. ''You're the first person who made me feel something. I'll forever cherish the moments I had with you.''  As Bada's whispered words reached your ear, a bittersweet mixture of longing and nostalgia flooded your heart. In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for the lost connection, yet also a deep appreciation for the love that had once blossomed between you.

''I knew you were going to leave me but it still hurts.'' Your breathy words managed to escape your throat.

''Thank you for letting me go Y/n because I would not have walked away.'' The emotions of longing and nostalgia washed over you like a tidal wave, reminding you of the way your soul intertwined with Bada's. Each memory, each stolen glance and each word you shared replayed in your mind, leaving you yearning for the future that slowly drifts away, as easy as it comes and as easy as it goes.

Bada hugged you one last time, her arms embracing you so hard that her scent lingered on your shirt-and that was the last thing she ever offered you.

"Why did you tell Dohee to kiss me?" you finally asked, breaking the silence.

Bada turned to look at you, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Because I know you, Y/n. I know that even if you're trying to move on, a part of you is still stuck in the past. With me. I don't want it to be that way."

You swallowed hard, the truth in her words stinging. "And what about you, Bada? Are you stuck in the past too?"

She hesitated, then let out the answer you already knew. "Maybe. Maybe part of me never really left our bed. But I also know that we can't go back. Too much has happened. And that's okay."

''There was a time when I thought I'd know you forever.'' your reply seemed to suck any thought Bada even had in the first place, leaving her speechless.

Finally, Bada spoke up again. "Look, Y/n, I don't know what the future holds for us, whether we're meant to be in each other's lives or not. But I do know that I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me."

Her words were sincere, and you felt a warm sensation in your chest, a feeling that maybe it was time to truly let go and move forward.

"Thank you, Bada," you said softly. "I want the same for you."

''Is this our goodbye?'' You dared to ask.

"You know I don't believe in goodbyes."

With those final words, you both shared a smile, acknowledging the end of a long and tangled chapter and the beginning of another. As you went back inside, leaving Bada alone with her thoughts, you realized that the night had brought more than just a party; it had brought a sense of closure you never got on the night when you and the Sea decided your love was too powerful so it might cause a tsunami. You felt a sense of uncertainty about what the future held, hoping that somehow she'd be at the end of your path.

That night was the last time you ever saw Bada Lee up close. Your eyes involuntary checked her instagram profile every once in a while or if you were lucky sometimes you'd spot her around uni, your sight being glued to her; your burning stare was never enough to make her turn around tho but still, you couldn't help yourself but think maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new to grow from the ashes of the past. Until you dropped that idea because you realized:

one fish would never be big enough to fill the whole Sea.

Authors note: This fic sucked the soul out of me lol ALSO I'm starting a taglist <3 comment if you want to be added or dm me.

taglist: @venuszn

[batwynn]

Some examples of stims I did while growing up until I was forced to stop each one by an adult in my life:

Humming/whistling

Copying bird whistles

Chewing on my hair

Chewing on pens/pen caps/pencils/etc.

Matching a sound from around me

Repeating words/phrases frequently

Making ‘weird’ sounds with my mouth

Tapping something/tapping a finger or foot

Singing what I was doing

Blinking in patterns

Constant doodling

And undoubtably more that I don’t even remember.

The result of being forced to stop stimming no matter what stim I tried:

Constantly anxious. Constantly.

I started picking at my skin and pulling out my hair.

More outbursts and/or more shut downs.

I formed a stutter under even the smallest amount of stress.

I became less social. Didn’t talk as much. Didn’t feel comfortable communicating to anyone.

I was markedly less happy.

Restless and unable to focus because stimming helped me work with my ADHD side as well.

Confusion, hurt, and isolation because I was then aware that I was ‘weird’.

I formed a huge distrust of adults around me, including family. Which lead to me getting in trouble for not ‘respecting authority’. (Aka: I asked questions and didn’t take what everyone said as a fact.)

I developed depression.

Oh, and I was still bullied for being ‘weird’ so stopping stimming didn’t even help that. Surprise!

Eventual outcome as an autistic adult:

Constant anxiety that I often can’t source and don’t know how to sooth anymore.

No self soothing techniques work or feel ‘natural’ anymore.

I lean heavily on disassociation to get through the day and/or during stressful moments.

I’m accused of faking it, lying, etc. by people because I learned to mask my autistic traits as best as possible.

Frequently don’t have the language for when I’m overwhelmed, and frequently misunderstood when I try to explain that something is bothering me like fabric texture or sounds.

Treated like I’m incompetent, a child, or a collection of both if I don’t behave ‘perfectly’.

Talked down to a lot.

Still picking at my skin and pulling out my hair. 🥲

Constantly feel like I’m lying about who I am/ frequent identity crisis and impostor syndrome mix up.

Trouble with relationships/friendships to different extremes. (Ex: I was groomed as a kid/teen and didn’t know until I was in my late 20s. Have trouble keeping friendships because I just don’t know how to interact with people the ‘right way’.)

I had to teach myself a lot of ‘regular’ social cues and behaviors by mimicking people around me. That unfortunately doesn’t alway work, and/or comes with accidentally mimicking a personality trait/quark/etc. which leads to people thinking your mocking them or copying them.

A lot of rage for the people who treated me like shit my entire life for being autistic.

Moments of feeling very small and childish when things are out of my control.

Feeling guilty/uncomfortable about some things I like because they’re considered childish. (Ex: stuffed animals.)

Fear of any and all interactions with strangers. Fear of not being able to predict where the conversation will go. Fear of extreme negative reactions even when it doesn’t seem realistic for that to happen.

And more that are so ingrained in my life that I don’t even recognize them anymore.

I can’t not think about how my life could have turned out if those adults had let me be comfortably autistic. I can literally see physical differences in old photos of me, where I just stopped being me. Where the happiness and honesty were bullied out of me. And were my stims and behaviors that bothersome? No, actually. I had already learned to do different stims in different environments so I wasn’t being noisy when I needed to be quiet etc. But that wasn’t good enough, so every stim and every ‘weird’ behavior had to stop. Why? Because these adults had a power over me and other children like me, and they liked to abuse it.

It’s abuse. The end.

[beanghostprincess]

What if,,, What if Sabosanuso,,, What then,,, What if Sanji has two hands, one for Usopp and another for Sabo,,, What if they held hands,,, What if,,,,,, What if Sabo and Usopp get a little too well in Dressrosa while Sanuso is established and both have the biggest crush on each other and then when Sabo meets Sanji he is like "well I GUESS I will just have to fuck both of them now to deal with this crisis"

Koala: You don't have to-

Sabo: I'm going to.

And Sanji also has the biggest crush on Sabo because who wouldn't. So here he comes the most chaotic but gentleman-looking man flirting with both of them and Sanji and Usopp are a whole anxious mess. They throw a party for reasons™ and Sabo approaches them and he is so not subtle it's insane. Unhinged but polite rev. And. And Usopp has to physically drag Sanji to the kitchen to talk in private and they are both going fucking insane with anxiety because "This is Luffy's brother we are talking about!" / "Yes but have you seen his hands!?" / "And his voice but that is not the point!" / "That is exactly the point!" / "Why are Luffy's brothers always so hot?!" / "It's the fucking fruit I swear to-"

They spend like. A long 20 minutes talking there while Sabo waits in front of the door like 👁️👁️ waiting for them to come back. And when they actually do it gets--- It gets very silly very haha very 'I don't want to talk about my thoughts I might faint writing this' type of situation.

Okay, but imagine that after the inevitable threesome that they have, they just keep meeting. Running into each other constantly. And Sanji and Usopp were supposedly in a monogamous relationship. And I say supposedly because it only takes a pretty blond former rich boy turned into a chaotic hot mess to make them change the only rule they had. So now they are like "okay, we can sleep with other people and that people is Sabo and Sabo only because look at him-". So they are not dating Sabo but they can sleep with him even if it's not the three of them.

While all of this happens, by the way, Sabo is having the most wonderful time of his life. Because he doesn't show it to them but he is also a babygirl and when he's alone with Koala he can't stop kicking his feet and screaming into his pillow and going "THEY ARE SO CUTE HOW AM I GOING TO DEAL WITH THIS IF EVERY TIME I GO SEE MY BROTHER I END UP DISTRACTED" / "You end up distracted anyway, who cares? As if you didn't enjoy it" / "I enjoy it very much yeah-"

AND- They catch feelings because of course they do. At some point there is the "Usopp, darling, you have a type" conversation, but he doesn't want to get too deep into, um, the subject (.... Kaya, Sanji, Sabo... Boy... I have some news for you).

I can't stop thinking about them,,,, Usopp being dramatic and telling his stories and Sabo following every detail with extreme care (he is. He is a writer. You guys. I. Can we just talk abt what that implies for Sabosopp???). Sanji cooking and Sabo desperately trying to help but failing miserably and ending up in a corner of the room with Usopp as a "punishment" but actually they're just cuddling watching Sanji cook. There is no "and they were both ***" here anymore because Sabo tops them both, no doubt. Maybe Usopp tops a single time but Sabo won't stop teasing and it's insufferable. And- And they are so cute. The most annoying boyfriends you will ever meet.

The most important thing here is to know that now Luffy is extremely jealous because he fears Sanji might end up cooking more for Sabo despite Sabo literally coming over to see them once a month or every three weeks and Luffy is always there. And he also does not want to lose his precious time talking about beetles or fishing with Usopp because of Sabo. But!!!!! They look really happy so he accepts it. And now Sabo is around more, so that is something nice too.

[xandertheundead]

OMG propmt time! Uuuuuuuuh…. Well I uh…I KNOW where panchito abandons Jose in the middle of the night, but then months later he comes back but finds Jose in a new house about to get engaged to this other guy, and panchito is like, “ oh pleaseee forgive me! Be with me !” But Jose wan nona dat so it’s like going back and forward with panchito trying to screw up the relationship but Jose actually want to be happy for once in his life and actually loves the guy he is engaged to so idk how to end it tbh.

This is so long 😭😭😭 I’m sorry

Oh my goodness! I am so sorry this took so long. I really went crazy with it so it's pretty long! I tried to keep it as close to what you wanted as I could! I hope you enjoy it and thank you for sending me the prompt!

Having a gay crisis about one of your best friends was one thing.

Having a gay crisis after you spend a long passion-filled night with one of your best friends was something entirely different.

Running from problems was not something Panchito usually did, preferring to face them head-on so he could solve them and get on with his life. Running was something cowards did, especially when it was not only you but also involved a dear one’s thoughts and feelings as well, and this time Panchito could call himself nothing other than that.

The panic had set in as soon as José’s eyes had closed, his breathing even and soft as the cold sickening feeling of dread started to fill Panchito’s stomach. He only waited until he was sure that José was truly asleep before moving quickly, grabbing his clothes and shoving them into his bag as quietly as he could before bolting out into the dark night.

Traveling back to Mexico with memories of that night had been torture. Remembering the way José’s face had grown red as he whispered things in Portuguese that Panchito hadn’t fully understood but caught enough of the meaning. How their kisses had felt electric, the feeling of his body pressed against Panchito’s, and how tightly he had held Panchito’s hand as they both finished with groans.

It was strange how badly it hurt when he only received one text from José asking if he was okay and then received nothing else even when Panchito tried to text or call.

He didn’t blame José.

If anyone had treated any of his sisters, or brothers to be fair, like that he would have hogtied them and dragged them through the town behind Señor Martinez for everyone to shame them for doing such a thing. He had thought about doing it to himself, but Señor Martinez would have never done anything to hurt him so Panchito had settled for going to his hometown Parish and asking if he could stay there for the time being. He did not dare try to go to his parent's home with his head filled with such confusion and turmoil, they would never leave him be.

Though alone, Panchito’s thoughts were only filled with José.

How he smelled. Castile soap, Malbec cologne, and the faint hint of cigar smoke since José had started smoking outside because it bothered both Donald and Panchito.

The way the feathers around his neck and cheeks would fluff up when he started to lose his temper. 

How well he could hold his liquor until suddenly he couldn’t and he became the most clingy thing anyone had ever come across. 

His favorite foods. His favorite music. His favorite places.

Panchito even missed how deceiving José could be.

Father Quintero had been very kind, letting Panchito stay with him and help around the parish wherever it was needed. The man did not ask Panchito what was bothering him or why he was back, only told him that he was there to listen if Panchito needed to talk. It wasn’t until he had been there for a month that Panchito finally broke down and confessed everything that he had been thinking, feeling, and had done to the priest after Father Quintero asked why Panchito never seemed to play his guitar or sing anymore.

The reason was because it made him ache for the bird he had left behind.

Father Quintero had listened calmly, handing him tissues when Panchito had been unable to hold back tears and a soft hand on his back when he would get choked on words he had been too afraid to say before.

“I love him.” It was whimpered, words raw and cracking as they came out of his mouth. “I love him more than a friend and not like a brother.”

It had taken weeks of talking, Panchito questioning Father Quintero on every single possible thing that he could think of now that he could admit his heart truly belonged to another man. He had been surprised when the priest never seemed to judge him or tell him that his feelings were vile and sinful. Only would take his hand and make sure Panchito was looking him in the eyes before he said, “You are a good soul, Francsico. It is my opinion that it is your actions that God looks at when our time comes and not those we love. I do not believe love can be a sin because it is one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit.”

It was another two weeks of thinking before he packed up his guitar, thanked Father Quintero for all of his help and set off with determination in his heart.

He would go back to José, not to beg for another chance, but to apologize fully and wholeheartedly for what he had done to someone so dear.

Talking to Donald before traveling to Brazil had been one of the scariest and most hurtful moments in Panchito’s life. Donald was angry. Livid. Things were thrown at him, and truly nasty, ugly words yelled at him right on Donald’s front door.

He had told Panchito to go away, that he wanted nothing to do with someone who would treat a friend the way Panchito had, and slammed the door in his face. Panchito had gone back to his hotel room, surprised when at three in the morning a text from Donald woke him up.

Donald: You are an absolute bastard who doesn’t deserve any kind of kindness after what you did…

Donald: But you are still my friend and I love you…

Donald: Bring lunch over tomorrow. Nothing cheap. I’m pissed as hell and I will be even more angry if you bring fast food.

The lunch had lasted well into the night, from glasses filled with soda to being refilled with whiskey. The first few hours Panchito got another verbal lashing, and he sat and took it because it was what he deserved, but after that real conversations started. 

“Did you know he’s engaged?”

Panchito’s shock must have shown on his face because Donald gave him a look with a raised eyebrow and Panchito had to clamp down on the feeling of hurt. It had only been two and a half months since he had held José in his arms and the other had whispered words of affection into his ear, had he been that easy to move on from? Anger sparked for just a moment before Panchito told himself he wasn’t allowed to feel that way. 

He had left first.

“No,” Panchito whispered, putting his head in his hands, feeling more defeated and sad than he had his entire life. “I didn’t. Rosinha?”

Donald snorted and Panchito knew it was a dumb question to ask. 

He loved José, but the parrot truly made a lot of bad decisions, especially when it came to the women in his life and how he treated them. Rosinha had been one of the most frequent victims of José’s fickle and flighty interests, putting up with so much that both Donald and Panchito were relieved when she finally had enough. She and José had stayed friends which was a miracle and some ugly part of Panchito hoped that because he hadn’t done anything as bad as José had to Rosinha maybe they could at least stay as friends.

A thought that had come up numerous times while he had been away floated up and he looked up at Donald. “Do…do you think I was just a fling?”

Donald sent him a glare. “Would that make you feel better? That running away wasn’t so bad as long as it didn’t mean anything to him?”

Panchito hunched his shoulders, feeling ashamed because it was true, but at the same time the idea of José seeing him as nothing but a friend to have a fun night with made him feel sick. 

Donald sighed after a moment and shook his head. “No, Panchito. José can be awful, but you are his friend first and foremost. He wouldn’t have risked that for sex unless he felt that way towards you.”

By the time one in the morning came, Panchito found himself on Donald’s couch a bit drunk with Donald’s arms wrapped around him in an embrace that made Panchito’s already red-rimmed eyes water again. Donald let him stay at his house while Panchito sorted everything out and for the first time in two and a half months, Panchito picked up his guitar and started to work on a new song.

Finding José had not been hard, his new fiancée was an actress from a wealthy and respectable family in Brazil and they frequently went to and threw several events. While finding José had not been hard, getting into the soonest party he would be at was. He’d had to use his charm and disguise techniques he’d learned as a Caballero just to get in the band that was playing for the event.

He hadn’t even taken off his fake beard when he heard José speak.

“Ah. Hello, meu amigo.” José’s voice carried a friendly tone, but it sounded flat and off to Panchito’s ears. “To what do I owe the pleasure of you sneaking into my fiancée’s gala?”

Panchito felt a lump in his throat as he slowly stood and turned, terrified now that he was face to face with José. He had been thinking about this moment for so long and now that he was here nerves threatened to take over but moved past it and took a deep breath. “I came to apologize.”

There was no look of shock or anger, just a mild look of curiosity and an easy smile that did not reach the parrot's eyes. “Oh? For what, Paco?”

Panchito frowned, frustrated at the nonchalant act, before he took a step forward toward the Parrot, instinctively reaching out. He froze when José gave the smallest of flinches at the movement and Panchito immediately dropped his arms and pulled back. He let out a soft sad sigh before shaking his head and looking back up at the man who owned his heart.

“For that night. I had-“ Panchito stopped when José clicked his tongue and waved his hand in Panchito’s direction in a dismissive way.

 “Oh, dear Panchito,” Jose shook his head. “You do not have to apologize. It was a moment of crazy passion, nothing else.”

Panchito’s heart hammered in his chest, courage rapidly fading as those light brown eyes stared at him as if Panchito was just another random person in the room.

“But I do,” Panchito replied, pushing past any of his feelings of fear and hurt. “I did something someone should never do to a friend. Especially to a friend that they love. Love more than anything.”

The sudden look of fear in José’s eyes made Panchito’s heart clench and he took a step back when José took a threatening step towards him. Green feathers around his neck and cheeks ruffled in anger even as his expression smoothed out into a distorted look of forced friendliness that honestly scared Panchito.

José laid a hand on his shoulder, grip tight enough to cause Panchito to wince and sway when José gave him a ‘playful’ shake. 

“I said,” Jose replied. “There is nothing to apologize for, meu amigo. So let us leave it at that.”

Panchito was not given a choice, José letting go of his shoulder and walking away without even a single look back. Crying right now in front of a large group of people was not ideal and Panchito took a deep steadying breath to compose himself as José’s figure disappeared amongst the crowd.

Give up. 

He clearly does not want to think about that night. 

Or about you for that matter.

Give up. Go home. You failed.

He should give up. He should go home. But he wouldn’t. He was done being a coward.

Panchito went back to the band, asking them for one very large favor before he set up to play their setlist. Pure stubbornness allowed him to play through their music with no issue, his anxiety quieted as his fingers strummed the strings of his guitar. It was only when they had finished their sixth song and the leader of the band announced they had something new for the audience that Panchito felt the unsettling creep of fear. 

Panchito attached the strap to his guitar with shaking fingers, slipping it over his neck as he stood and moved over toward the microphone. He swallowed thickly and nodded when the other singer clapped him on the back and muttered words of good luck before leaving him alone at the front of the stage. Panchito made sure the microphone was in the right place to pick up both his voice and guitar before taking in a settling breath and pulling up the courage he used to know so well. 

He laid his calloused fingers against the frets, his other hand moving to very gently brush against the strings and he looked out into the crowd to see if he could find José. There was no sign of the parrot and Panchito refused to let the hurt and fear take over that José wouldn’t even hear what he had made.

As a last-minute thought, he decided to switch the words he had written for the man from English to Spanish. José knew English fluently but Spanish was a little harder, especially since Portuguese was so close to it that there were often misunderstandings. That way, José would hear his song but could decide for himself if he wanted to hear Panchito’s apology. It was all José’s choice and Panchito let everything go as he poured all that he felt into the first gentle cords of the song.

Hola mi amigo, mi querido, mi amor. (Hello My friend, My dear, My love.)

¿Me estás escuchando? (Are you listening?) Hay tantas cosas que quiero decir. (There are so many things I want to say.) Tantas palabras que me han llevado a llenar la página. (So many words that have filled the page.)

¿Puedes hablar? (Can you speak?) Necesito tu voz como en las canciones que solíamos cantar. (I need your voice like in our songs we used to sing.) Una hermosa armonía entrelazada como un sencillo anillo de oro. (A beautiful harmony like a simple gold ring.)

Hay muchas cosas que desearía no haber hecho. (There’s many things I wish I didn’t do.) Como no quedarme hasta que saliera el sol contigo. (Not staying till the sun rose with you.) O huir porque tenía miedo de lo que significaba. (Running because I was scared of what it meant.) No pensar en lo que eso significaría para ti.  (Not thinking what it would do to you.)

Hola mi amigo, mi querido, mi amor. (Hello My friend, My dear, My love.) Lo siento por haberte herido. (I’m sorry that I hurt you.) Hola mi amigo, mi querido, mi amor. (Hello My Friend, My dear, My Love.) Lo siento por haberte dejado. (I’m sorry that I left you.)

No sé si este llamado te llegará. (I don’t know if this call will reach you.) Sé que esto no es ni remotamente suficiente. (I know it’s not nearly enough) Mi amor es cristalino, claro como mi mente. (My love is crystal, clear just like my head.) Me tomó tiempo y ahora, lamentablemente, es tarde. (It took time and now it is unfortunately late.)

Si no es así, mi corazón y mi alma te daré. (If it is not, my heart and soul to you I’ll give) Estaré contigo y cuidaré de ti mientras viva. (Be with you and take care of you as long as I live) Si es así, por favor, no te preocupes, no te molestaré. (If it is, please do not worry, I will not bother you.) En mis sueños te abrazaré fuerte y rápido. (In dreams I’ll hold you close and hold you fast.)

Hola mi amigo, mi querido, mi amor. (Hello My friend, My dear, My love.) Lo siento por haberte herido. (I’m sorry that I hurt you.) Hola mi amigo, mi querido, mi amor. (Hello My friend, My dear, My love.) Lo siento por haberte dejado. (I’m sorry that I left you.)

Te deseo solo cosas buenas. (I wish you only good things.) Una vida plena y libre. (A life full and free.)

Buenas noches mi amigo, mi querido, mi amor. (Goodnight My friend, My dear, My love.) Lo siento por haberte herido. (I’m sorry that I hurt you.) Adiós mi amigo, mi querido, mi amor. (Goodbye My Friend, My dear, My Love.) Lo siento por haberte dejado. (I’m sorry that I left you.)

The applause startled Panchito, so lost in pouring his heart out that he had forgotten where he was for a moment. He once again tried to look through the crowd, but when there was no sign of José Panchito could only bow and step back as the band continued with their songs.

He heard nothing from José for the rest of the time he spent in Brazil. 

Nothing from José as he flew back to his home where he sat his parents down to tell them of his love for another man.

Nothing as he stayed home for a few months to help around the house as well as going to visit Father Quintero, doing a few odd jobs for the priest when he needed help.

Nothing as he planned his yearly trip north to visit Donald and the family, making sure that he would not be coming around the time José did. It used to be something José and he did together, but Panchito knew that wasn’t something he could have anymore. 

“Did you know your song is crazy popular in Brazil?” Donald questioned as they sat at his dinner table one morning, Panchito sipping his second cup of coffee because he had already been up with the sun while Donald stirred his first with a sleepy stare.

Panchito nodded. “Si, I know. Someone called a while back to see if I would be willing to record it.”

Donald glanced up from his coffee to look at him. “Are you going to?”

“No,” Panchito said with a small smile, time had given him a quiet sense of melancholy peace. “The song is not for everyone. It is only for him.”

Donald didn’t say any more about it and they moved on with his visit.

It was on the day that he was leaving Duckburg, bags packed and a plane ticket bought for Italy, that Panchito finally heard something.

The soft knock on his motel room door made him frown as he shoved his toothbrush and toothpaste into a plastic bag. He had said his goodbyes to Donald and the family yesterday after they had all gone ice skating so he could not figure out who would be at his door. Maybe housekeeping? But he had put the little sign on the door to refuse that, hadn’t he?

“Sorry!” He called. “I don’t need that today, but thank you!”

It was quiet on the other side and Panchito was about to go back to packing when he heard a familiar sigh through the door. His heart leaped into his throat when he heard the soft smooth voice he loved so dearly speak. “Do not leave me out here, Paco. People will start to suspect I am up to no good.”

Panchito had never moved as fast as he did to fling open that door, breath leaving him at the sight of José being there, right on the doorstep of his motel. José smiled, but it was unsure and his expression was guarded as he looked up at Panchito before looking past him into the room.

“May I come in?” José asked easily and Panchito wondered how the other bird could lock away any emotions so easily. “I would rather talk in privacy and not in earshot of the man who is filling a large trash bin with complimentary ice for a reason I don’t want to think about.”

“Ay!” Panchito cried, quickly moving to the side so that José could come inside. “Of course, of course! Can I get you something to drink? I have…water from the faucet.”

José shook his head, watching as Panchito shut the door before moving to stand next to the plain desk in the room. “Não. Thank you but I will not be staying long.”

“Oh.” Panchito hated how sad and disappointed his voice sounded, trying not to let his feelings get the better of him. José had finally reached out and he would let himself ruin it by doing something foolish. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Donald said you wouldn’t be recording your song.”

“Ah.” Panchito suddenly felt tired. “No.”

José stared down at the desk as if it had something interesting on it. “Why not? So many people would buy it. It truly is a hit in South America, especially in Brazil.”

“You know why.”

That answer seemed to irritate José, a frown suddenly on his face and an annoyed huff slipping out as he turned to look at Panchito fully. “Then why play it in front of such a large crowd?”

Panchito gave a weak shrug. “It was the only way I knew that you might listen.”

José snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes moving to look down at the floor. “Do you know how frustrating it is? To hear that song everywhere? A song that I didn’t want to hear? You could not leave it alone could you?”

Panchito shrank back a bit when José looked up at him with such anger that Panchito wondered if this was it. This was when José would finally tell him that he wanted nothing more to do with him. “I’m sorry, Zé.”

“Oh. I am well aware, Panchito.” José growled. “You keep saying sorry, telling the world you are sorry and your feelings for me. Yet you keep running.”

“Que?!” Panchito cried, suddenly so confused. “How? How did I run again?”

“You came back into my life and sang one of the most beautiful songs about how much you loved me and then just left again!” José yelled, green feathers fluffing up in a way that even though Panchito knew it meant he was angry the sight made his heart beat hard with love. “Not one word from you after! For almost a year!”

Panchito stared at him in shock. “You wanted me to? You made it clear you did not want to listen to me so after I left you alone!”

“Of course, I didn’t want to listen to you!!” José cried, moving closer to Panchito with his finger raised. “Because I knew if I did I would fall again because I’m weak to you! I know I lie and people distrust me, but I have never lied to you when it was important. All those words I said that night were true, Panchito, every single one.”

The room was quiet except for José’s heavy breathing, but Panchito could swear the sound of his heartbeat was loud enough that José could hear it. It was like stepping on thin ice, the choice he was about to make was very likely to break whatever this was and have him sinking into a cold world where José was gone for good.

“Were?” Panchito questioned softly and he watched as José’s face changed to confusion, anger, and then fear.

“Ah, Escroto.” José choked out, his voice cracking as Panchito could see the parrot’s eyes grow wet with tears. “Were…and are. Of course, it is all still true.”

“Zé…” Panchito reached out and this time José did not try to move away, letting Panchito take his hands in his and stand close. “Whatever you want from me, I’ll give it. Even if it is only as a bandmate or less, I don’t care as long as I can still have you in my life.”

“You are truly such a depressing romantic,” José muttered, the humor there amongst the raw ugly feelings.

“I try,” Panchito replied and sighed in relief when José wrapped his arms around him and hugged him and he held the parrot back tightly. “But only for you.”

“Please stop,” José grumbled. “I can only take so much of your selfless declarations of love before I feel sick.”

“Alright,” Panchito whispered, the feeling of having José around him again making him feel lightheaded and he dared to rest his cheek on top of José’s head softly. “What do we do now?”

He felt José’s shoulders sag, any tension in the parrot’s body leaving as he leaned his weight against Panchito. José was quiet for a bit before he moved his head out from under Panchito’s cheek and looked up at the rooster with a determined look. 

“Well, first I believe you need to treat me to lunch.” José started and Panchito was nodding before he could even think. “Then I want to hear that song again, without hundreds of other people in the room, and you will play it over and over again until I’m even more sick of it than I already am.”

Panchito let out a weak laugh, willing to sing for José until his voice could go no longer. “Of course.”

“And lastly,” José continued, suddenly seeming unsure and nervous. “I want you to buy me a ticket for the same flight you are taking tonight and if you can’t, you have to find a new one that we can both take…together.”

“Ay, Mi alma.” Panchito whispered, voice cracking as his eyes stung with tears. “Of course. Anything for you.”

Send me a tip and a prompt and I'll give you a story! ❤️

[rosedominatesyou]

Bedtime Stories w/ Rose

ੈ✩‧˚ Turkish Coffee ‧˚ੈ✩

(Bedtime Story #3)

Good evening my pretty puppies. I’ve got another interesting tale for you. You all voted pretty heavily for this one, probably thinking you’ll hear about me in a little maid outfit ;3 Remember to keep this story in your likes until you are all cozy and ready for bed.

Before reading: Everything I’m about to say is real and actually happened. I’ve withheld things like certain locations and last names to be respectful to the people in the story.

This time in my life I’m about to describe 100% shaped me as a person. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it didn’t all happen. I kept an extensive journal the whole time and have written hundreds of pages already about my experience, hoping that one day I might publish my story. Though there’s so much I could say, I will try to summarize it within a 20 minute read.

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

Please look up the song, “So Wie Du Bist” by MoTrip. A song I heard on the radio while on public transit in Germany, its title translates into, “Just The Way You Are.”

I went through a pretty intense existential crisis my senior year of high school. Everything felt so bleak. I felt like nothing really mattered anymore.

My whole life, my parents were preparing me for college. One day at the dinner table in grade 12, I asked them if they would help me send in some applications. They laughed at me, and told me there was no way they could afford to send me to a university. I felt like they had lied to me my whole upbringing. What was the point of all the pressure if I wasn’t going to be anything anyway? How could they laugh like that?

My sister had just gotten back from an au pairship in Germany that was organized through a family friend, and during this same dinner conversation, my parents asked me if I was interested in doing that as well.

With no real goals anymore and spending my days sitting on the couch talking to my online friends on Xbox Live, I said fuck it, why not? I signed the paperwork and I would be sent out at the end of July. I didn’t know any German, but I was told that the point of being an au pair was to do a cultural exchange, where they’d teach me German and I’d expose them to regular English.

The contract I signed laid out two distinct parts of my job: to help the two children I’d be living with with their homework, and to be a live-in maid for the household. The plan for my days was always the same: get up at 8am and do any housework that the mom, Mrs. K, assigned to me, and then be ready to tutor the kids once they got home from school.

Things don’t ever turn out like we expect. We have all these ideas and hopes for how it’ll be, but we never really know. We can only guess and wait and see.

The family I was living with wasn’t German, they were a Turkish family and exclusively spoke their own language in their household. One of the first Turkish words I learned was “Anne”, meaning ‘Mom’. The second was “Yok”, which means ‘No’. The blue Turkish ‘Evil Eye’ will always make me think of them, as it was very important to their culture and had to be able to be seen no matter where you were in the house; they were everywhere, above every door frame, and in every room.

Mr. K was a dentist, and their family lived a very well-off life because of it. They owned two Porsche’s and their home was gorgeously modern: 4-stories tall with one level being a fully furnished basement. The color pallet of the home was white, with the outside being red brick. The walls on the ground floor that made up the kitchen and living room were essentially just massive windows, floor to ceiling all around the house, with huge zombie-esk shields that could be raised to cover the windows at night.

I was their little American trophy, and they loved to bring me to their friend’s homes for dinner to show me off. “Say word!” they’d encourage me.

The children I took care of were the most monstrous spoiled little brats I had ever met. The girl (I’ll call her D) was 12 years old at the time, and the boy (I’ll call him C) was 14. Two very hormonal ages for a kid and they had to suddenly spend half of their time at home with me. Originally, they were very insecure about their English, but they were both actually pretty smart, and could speak it very well. Our homework time was called ‘learning’ and they would always fight with eachother over who would have to go first.

The girl would throw tantrums regularly. If she didn’t get exactly what she wanted, she’d start stomping her feet and screaming her head off. One time when we went into town, she wanted to buy an umbrella from the store, and her mom said no. “Yok!” She was on the floor, kicking and screaming in front of everyone about how she never gets what she wants.

She was such a silly girl with me sometimes though, always wanting to laugh and poke-fun instead of learning. We’d be trying to do her vocabulary and she’d be asking me all sorts of things that had nothing to do with school.

“She messes with me by asking me random questions that throw me off. We spent the last 10 minutes laughing about how her cardigan made her look like a bat when she spread her arms out.”

The boy was devilishly smart, but his parents expected too much of him which caused him to slink away a lot. He would say some pretty racist things to me at times, things that would make me use google translate to try to show him how horrible his words were. He was well aware. The boy also had a silly side though, and would get so distracted during our learning time with questions just like his sister. They hated it when I said that they were very alike.

“C spent the first 8 minutes very eager to kill the fly stuck in the room. Once I got him to finally sit down, I had to stop teaching every six words because C wanted to talk to me about Destiny.”

My room was basically an apartment, located in “level 0” as I called it in my journal in the basement of the house. It had its own entranceway to outside, as well as my own kitchen and bathroom. It was pretty cool, and things were going really well until about a month into my stay.

The family planed a trip for all of us to go to the nearby city of Köln, or better known to most with the French spelling as Cologne. The Köln Dom is a very famous cathedral in the city, and we climbed all the way to the top to see the view, spending the day walking around and eating local food. It was wundershön. Towards the end of the day, when we were at a restaurant having dinner, one of the daughters of the family friends we knew invited me out to a night club later that evening.

I asked Mr. and Mrs. K if I could go, and much to my surprise, they said yes.

It was close to 9pm when N and her brother came and picked me up. We went to one of their friend’s house first to pregame. We sipped mixed drinks while we watched some of them play FIFA. It made me feel so cool. I was only 18, but the drinking laws were much different in Germany than they were in the states, so even though I wouldn’t be able to legally drink for another 3 years back home, I was of age here.

The club was exactly what I hoped from the underground German-club scene. The U I think it was called, we all piled together in an elevator that was crammed full of 30+ people that took us to the top of a skyscraper. The bouncer gave me the craziest look when I showed him my California ID. One of the boys we were there with snuck in a whole bottle of vodka that we all took turns drinking from as we danced. It was my first time in a club, and also the first time a random stranger started grinding on me.

Things were going great, until they weren’t. No one knew they needed to take care of me. I didn’t know either until my legs stopped working. I had never had that much freedom to drink alcohol in public, but the laws in Germany start at age 14 for supervised drinking, so all of them assumed I had been used to alcohol for years. We were leaving when my legs gave out. I don’t remember much after that. We were suddenly in the car and N was handing me a water bottle. Then they were telling me I was home, and to get out. They asked me if I was going to be okay, and I confidently waved at them and wished them goodnight.

I woke myself up by vomiting everywhere in bed. There was no time to run to the bathroom, it just happened before my eyes were open.

One of the rules in the house was no closed doors. The kids had to leave their’s open at all times (which made me really sad for their developmental needs), but that also went for me as well. I shut my door and went upstairs to have breakfast with the family. I forgot and started working on my cleaning duties when D came running up to me, saying that Anne was very upset. She saw my door closed and went in to check, seeing the throw up on the sheets.

This moment unfortunately changed everything. I was a good girl. I worked very hard. I never wanted to do a better job in my life. But now I was labeled as irresponsible, and lost my privileges to sleep in the apartment room. They made space for me at the other side of the basement, in a cold, windowless room that didn’t have any furniture, just boxes and the kids old toys meant for storage.

“It’s a strange feeling to wake up reaching for your stuffed animal and to remember that you’re not home. It’s even stranger when it’s in a bed that’s not even a bed. One that I woke up in this morning, sprawled out across two couches in the abandoned toy room of my host family’s basement.”

The days got bleaker from there. I had to keep track of any work that I did, writing down the exact amount of minutes in a calendar to make sure I did enough work. Some days, Mrs. K wouldn’t give me anything to do, and I would be standing there in front of her begging to assign me a task. She’d wave her hands and go back to watching her soaps, leaving me to just go sit somewhere and wait. There were days I only did 2 hours of work, when I had to get 6 done each day. It started to become a real burden to me. They would make me write down the hours I didn’t complete, even on days that they blatantly told me that they didn’t have anything.

The negative hours were adding up. At the end of it all, I had 14.3 hours they expected me to somehow fulfill. There were days where I worked 10 hours of just cleaning trying to make up the time.

“What am I supposed to do? How is that fair? How can they tell me that when I’m standing there asking for work and they say no? I’m more stressed out than I have ever been. I hope this is one of those things where if you face the storm and just keep moving then everything will clear and it’ll be okay.”

However terrible I felt, I did start to get used to our routine. Once the kids were done with their homework, it was my free time, and I eventually started taking the spare house key and announcing I was headed out. I knew they couldn’t stop me. I would walk around the neighborhood until it started to get too dark and I’d sluggishly take myself back home.

A river went through their backyard, and on the other side was a large city-owned cemetery. I would walk about 15 minutes down the road to the entrance, always making my way to a specific bench that faced one of the gravestones. I loved talking to her. It felt good to say so many things in English. People would see me and I just hoped they assumed I was grieving; they always let me be, which I truly appreciated so much.

The last straw was sometime in November. The plan was that I was supposed to be there through Christmas, and I had already experienced an Oktoberfest which was really very exciting, but I ended up filing for breach of contract and leaving early.

Their house was always under construction. There were workmen there doing something every single day, hammering or drilling or doing some kind of panelling. They didn’t like when they accidentally hired German workers - Mr. K only wanted them to be Turkish. A German boy named Ray struck up a conversation with me one day he was there doing landscaping at the house, but he was never invited back. I had dreams about running away with him, having him save me from the life I was living.

I was sitting in the kitchen one morning when Mrs. K pointed at the backyard for me to look. A dump truck was coming into their large yard and unloading dozens of uncut logs. I watched them for a moment and then asked, “Workers?” Mrs. K looked frustrated and said, “No workers. You!”

I wasn’t as strong as I am now, but even still, it was too much work for a single person to do. Winter was coming, and it snowed heavily in Germany so the family needed lots of firewood for the next several months. She had me hauling and stacking the logs in the shed behind the house all by hand. I wasn’t even halfway through the mountain of wood before I started to feel dizzy, my vision was fading and I was afraid that i’d pass out on top of the pile if I didn’t go inside.

I made the mistake of calling my mom. She freaked out, and when I woke up from my exhaustion nap, the damage was done. She called everyone involved, and had already bought me a plane ticket home. There was no changing it now.

D used to text me constantly after I got home, sending me videos of herself asking me over and over again, “When are you coming back?”

There’s so many things I regret about what happened in Germany. So many things I wish I could have handled differently. But there’s also so many amazing things that I was so happy to go see and do.

I loved Mrs. K’s cooking. I would do a little dance everytime we sat down to eat and it would make her smile so much. No one ever said thank you to her, so I always made sure to thank her for the meals she made. Her authentic Turkish cooking was to die for. Lamb and rice with dill and her brown lentil soup were my favorite.

I earned 1 vacation day every month I was there, so I eventually was able to save up 3 vacation days, and also used my 1 day off during a specific week to take a bus to London. It drove all through the night and then got on the ferry to cross the English Channel.

The whole experience living with this family made me very good at understanding people without English. It was incredibly difficult at first, of course, but I work with a lot of vendors at my current job where English is not their first language, and no matter what they speak, I will not have a hard time talking to them.

Even when things were rough between me and the K’s, we all still had lots of good moments. Just like any family. I know that they think about me just as much as I think about them.

“It’s amazing to not speak the same language, but still be able to understand a person’s emotions and body language. It really shows how we are all the same species, and all humans are very much the same. All of our laughs say the same thing too, and I think that’s really beautiful.” That’s the end of our story my sweet angels. I know it probably wasn’t what you were expecting, but I still hope you enjoyed it. Mommy got very good at cleaning windows because of these days in her life. Thank you again for reading, and I hope to hear what you think. ❤️

Sleep well babies xoxo

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

[ineffably-human]

Today in 'Shadows things hundreds of people have decided are true that I really don't understand at all,' we have... [spins wheel]

'Nandor's seasons-long burning desire to become human' - everyone here knows what a cult is, right?

Like at its most cliche, we understand how cult leaders work in fiction, at least? They say 'hey, dude, you seem very lost and in despair. Good thing I know a secret key to Paradise nobody else does, and I alone am equipped to get you there, and also I understand you better than anyone else in the outside world ever will.'

Nandor came to Jan in an existential crisis with no idea of what would help him, and left convinced that becoming human would do the trick. (This is because Jan is good at her evil job.) He dove into that belief because he was diving into a cult and that's what they do. He felt that vampirism was a curse because he was in the middle of a huge emotional crisis, and his new way out of that crisis was telling him vampirism is a bad thing that is causing his problems (instead of loneliness, a poorly fitting job, sudden changes in his close servant-friend, existential stuff humans go through as well...)

When he's out of that crisis, he never mentions becoming human again. He never mentions feeling cursed by vampirism again. In fact: he visits his homeland where everyone else became vampires, and decides that if everyone else is a vampire there's nothing special about being a vampire. (Read: in normal circumstances, with the chance to feed his ego, he feels special being a vampire.) In fact: when given fifty-two wishes that we see him use on his body multiple times, he doesn't use them to be human, or to do any human things.

I can see why, in the throes of S3, you could pin some of his backstory onto the Jan thing and see it as Nandor resenting being turned. Nandor is the one who lost more than he gained being a vampire, in terms of his glory days etc. We know nothing about how it happened or if he wanted it. The first time he tells it, all his wives left him because he suddenly changed into this dangerous unpredictable monster.

But the second time we hear it, in s4, it's implied that when he became a vampire he suddenly abandoned them all? (It's pretty vague tbh.) Also it's made extremely clear he was a terrible husband to start with. If the thing with razing Antipaxos doesn't tell you enough, his behavior in s4 seals it in: the peak of Nandor's human life was as a violent, insecure bully, who took everything he even imagined he wanted and never slowed down enough to understand how empty he felt.

Being a vampire gave Nandor time and space to think about parts of life he'd never have considered when he was alive. The losses he felt allowed him to be more patient and more sober. He enjoys fighting and violence now, but he seems to think about honor and mercy just as much. You could argue that Nandor's main personal arc - his 'I'm okay, you're okay' if you will - is accepting the person he is now over the person he used to be. Think of how much more natural his leadership was this season rallying the vampires in a crisis, instead of the forced protocols and rituals of the earlier seasons.

I don't think that someone with one foot in a world that literally doesn't exist anymore, who has trouble talking to most people outside the house and loves to watch familiars fight to the death, would be happy as a human. I think he'd work a day or get a single summer cold, and beg Laszlo to turn him again, actually.

(I don't think he and Guillermo would have a great relationship if they were both human, either - these are people who bond over knight-vassal courtly love vibes and trying to kill each other. What can life as a mortal couple possibly offer to fulfill them?)

But all of that is speculation. Here's what isn't: Nandor wants to be a human for a single episode of the show. It is not a richly established part of his character. If we're talking pure facts, it's a thing that happened that one time, and has never been spoken of again.

[resowrites]

Hitch - oneshot.

Summary: Henry and his girlfriend hit a bump in the road…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Girlfriend!OC

Warnings: angst, fluff, relationship difficulties/argument, language, pet names, nondescript OC body type/appearance, brief allusion to smut, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1630

A/N: Hi folks, still not back in the writing groove but gave it a go and this was the result lol Sorry for deleting the last request, still having a crisis of confidence but I appreciate all interactions (especially as it helps me figure out blog direction). Not sure how often I’ll continue posting atm but feel free to send requests etc. - R x

My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Hitch - oneshot.

"I just want you to tell me why."

"Henry, do you not think if there was another reason, I’d just say so? Especially if it meant not having this conversation again?"

"So you honestly expect me to believe that you won’t get married simply because don't want to?"

"Yes! I said as much not long after we got together, why did you think I’d change my mind?"

"I dunno, I thought maybe you were trying to protect yourself. I know being with someone like me will never be straightforward, but why is marriage an impossibility given how long we've now been together? I've never done anything to make you doubt me or my love for you." She sighed and placed her hands on her hips, struggling to comprehend how watching some dreadful reality show about matchmaking had led to their current discussion. 

"Henry, I really can’t have this conversation again. I've told you my reason why and won't keep repeating myself. Goodnight." Henry dashed between her and the living room door.

"Darling please, we need to talk about this. Surely you can appreciate why I’m confused? You won't attend premieres with me, you don’t often travel with me. I respect that you're your own person and want to be out of the spotlight at much as possible, but now I'm worried you don't feel the same way about me anymore."

"Henry, you already know that isn't true. For fuck's sake I take care of everything each and every day don't I? Your house, your personal affairs, even your dog! I live in the middle of nowhere for you, I get abused every day worldwide for you, and I can't even walk down the fucking street without the risk of being photographed - all for you! Why would I do any of that if I didn't love you? I've never wanted your money, connections, or anything else, and yet here you are questioning me!" But her anger only served to rile him up further. 

"Well, I wonder why! You sound pretty resentful even though this is our house, our dog, our fucking life! For God’s sake I thought we were past this, what else can I do to prove that you're my priority?"

"I'm not resentful, that's my point! And we didn't choose this house or other aspects of our life together but I'm still here, still dedicated to you. What else do I have to do, to prove that?"

"So that would help? If we moved, chose a house together?" She clasped her forehead, exasperated.

"Ugh, no! I love this house because you chose it, just like I love you. Now let me go to bed." Henry blocked her path once again.

"No, please… I'm just trying to understand. You forget that I know you were engaged before, so is it that? You love me but you were in love with him?"

"Or the experience just confirmed marriage isn't for me. If I'd lost the person I loved most, why would I settle? I'm hardly the type, am I?" He searched her eyes.

"But if it's inconsequential to you why can't we do it? I just want you to be my wife, you know fine well I'll never hurt or leave you!"

"Except I don't! No one can. I don't want marriage because I don’t believe it's a vow anyone can honestly make. You might wake up tomorrow and decide you don't love me anymore, or next week you could meet someone who makes you realise you never did. I'm sorry but having to get divorced just adds insult to injury and I won't do it to myself. I refuse to."

"Oh, darling." Henry tried to move in for a hug but she swiftly raised her hand.

"Stop it. Whether you accept it or not, I continue to be here because I love you, and I'm sorry you think I haven't done enough to make that clear."

"And I'm sorry you think I don't love you as much as you love me." A look flashed briefly across her face.

"When did I say that?!"

"Throughout this entire conversation! So I was right all along, you think I'm just a selfish prick who wants to have his cake and eat it. First it was your father, then your ex, and now me. I'm just the latest in a long line of disappointments, aren't I? What do you want me to do? Give up acting? Will that be a big enough improvement for you?" There was no mistaking the look on her face anymore.

"How dare you. I've always respected what you do--"

“She said sarcastically.”

"Oh whatever, all this really comes down to is you not being able to control me any further than you already do." He stepped back a moment, turning around only halfway when he was ready to speak again.

"You don't really believe that?"

"Either way, I'm never getting married or having children. If that's too much for you then, I suppose... our relationship is already over." Her eyes were distraught and Henry rushed forwards, gripping the sides of her arms.

"No, no. Please, don't say that. I'm not losing you over something like this. Having children is different and besides, I don’t want to share you with anyone else," she felt her heart pinch. "I'm sorry, Okay? I'm just hurt, but I'll get over it. Yes, I'm old-fashioned, I find it hard that you don't let me spoil you, or that we have to take turns paying for holidays. You even have to pay for the upkeep of this place!”

"Yes, because you bought it despite us both living here, why can't I at least contribute?" He finally let her go, sighing as his head dropped down.

"I just want to care of you."

"And you do! Which I'm grateful for and is the reason I do whatever I can to take care of you as well. Marriage gives me the ick, alright? I'm just not lovey-dovey, sue me."

"Bollocks. You spend ages cuddling Kal, cooking for me… do you know you even cuddle up to me at night after you've fallen asleep? I try and stay awake just so--" his voice caught in his throat, "I don't miss it. We don't have to have a wedding, though you seemed to enjoy Mark's and Claire's...”

"I'd enjoy myself at funerals if they had open bars." 

"Well, what if something happens to me? I need to make sure everything's taken care of."

"We can go to a solicitor for that." Henry rubbed his jaw.

"What if we make it just us? We don't have to invite anyone other than the witnesses." She pondered the suggestion for a moment. 

"How about we have a civil union?" He scowled.

"What, where you don't have to change your title, surname, or even be called my wife?"

"Henry that's my last offer, take it or leave it. For fuck's sake why can't I just be your partner? That's all I've ever wanted to be..." She swallowed back her tears but practically fled the room. Henry just stood with his head in his hands. Neither of them slept well that night.

***

The next couple of days passed uneasily, not that she didn't try her best to make things better. She still didn't want to give in to Henry though, no matter how bad it felt not to. She thought she’d sacrificed enough for them to be together. If she said yes to this, then what would be next? It was as she was curled up on the sofa, letting such thoughts churn over and over in her mind, that he came and sat down beside her. After a couple of minutes, he gently took her hand. "Listen, I've thought about what you said and I think I finally understand. With that in mind, I'd like you to accept these as a promise that we'll belong to each other for as long as possible and as best we can.” He looked at her knowingly while pulling two velvet boxes from his pocket. “I got you the same promise ring as mine as I know you don't like anything sparkly, mine's just wider cos I've got big hands and need it to last. You don't have to be a Mrs or take my surname either, though I know you don’t like yours so I thought maybe you could anyway?" His hopeful eyes were met with the mischief in hers.

"But your surname’s awful as well!" He snorted.

"Fair enough, I know it's a nightmare changing everything by deed poll anyway. We can wear the rings on our right hands if you want, so... what do you think?"

"I'll accept it on one condition," she teased, though the tears in her eyes were plain to see.

"Which is?"

"You get down on one knee." Henry stared at her for a moment in disbelief but soon hurled himself to the floor, grinning as she presented her right hand. He took his time, making sure to slide the band on carefully. Once that was done she grabbed his and as gently as her patience would allow, twisted it over his finger. They beamed at each other before he leaped to his feet, pulling her with him so they could kiss and embrace. His heart felt like it was about to burst. "You know, if I'm not your wife then what will you call me?"

"How about 'wagon?'" She giggled and swatted him on the arm. "What about me?"

"Hmm, let's see... what else begins with 'w?'" He roared with laughter, planted another kiss on her mouth, and swept her up into his arms. She knew they were headed for the stairs before he even turned round.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@marytudorbrandon @luclittlepond

[frecklystars]

I never really thought about sexuality much even when the people around me started showing interest in relationships. So at first I thought I was bisexual, because I had the same amount of interest in men/women. Then I realized that gender wasn't really an important factor to me in attraction, so I called myself pansexual. Then I realized most of the people I'd ever felt attraction towards were fictional, so these days I mostly just use aspec/queer to identify myself.

All of these labels (to me) are just a tool for helping you understand yourself a little better, and you don't need to force yourself to use one you don't feel fits anymore.

I remember seeing a post on tumblr ages ago talking about identity that was like 'show me a permanent state of self' because you're constantly changing as a person as you learn.

Anyways, sorry for the rambling, just wanted to let you know you're not alone, sorry about the sexuality crisis, hope your day gets better

AWW thank you for taking the time to send this to me sweetheart. "sorry about the sexuality crisis" made me burst out laughing; I know you didn't mean it to be funny, you are being kind, but that's just funny to me that multiple people have sent me messages in my inbox/dms saying "so sorry you think you're a lesbian and it's making you spiral and cry in the middle of the night" like I just never expected people to send me a message like that haha. thank you, genuinely thank you for saying that though, because HOO i am STRUGGLING here bro... but it's ok i'll figure it out eventually <3

I have heard that's very much an aro/aspec feeling, to say "well I don't feel much preference for any gender, so maybe I'm bi/pan". I watched a video on being aro/ace and I related to some of it but not all of it entirely, so I know I'm... I'm ace, for sure. and I think I'm aro somewhat? Women™ are a big big big piece of the puzzle and the only reason why I don't feel fully aro is bc my attraction for them is There but at the same time I don't know if I feel it... as... much(?) as I am "supposed" to. or maybe my lack of physical affection/lack of feeling totally safe in a relationship is just bc of actual life experience and not like, who I am as a person? question mark???

I also think the realization that maybe I am not changing from bi into possibly lesbian, but I might not have been bi this entire time has hit me like a ton of bricks and is what's hurting me so bad. I was so confident I was bi for yeeeears, because I assumed I'd felt attraction to men, even if it was short and fleeting and practically nonexistent, but all this time I don't think I have felt attraction to men, not truly. but again -- does bisexuality have to include men? if I'm a cis woman I mean, would my bisexuality HAVE to include men or can it just be "I am attracted to literally anybody Except Men." and like, hey, maybe I haven't met enough men?? most of my experiences with men have been kind of um. uncomfortable and creepy. maybe I would feel attracted to a man in the future?? I used to joke with my other bi friends "oh my standards for men are SO HIGH, they have to meet a whole checklist of requirements for me to feel attraction to them, but for a woman all she has to do is exist and I'm in LOVE with her" and like... that could be.. a lesbian feeling sdfhldhfskldf or I'm just bi with 99.9999% attraction to women and 00.0001% attraction to other people, which might include men but like, only two unobtainable men who are celebrities (Ryan Gosling and Nick Blaemire) which don't count because they are... unobtainable celebrities. MAN WHO KNOWS!!!!! I DON'T KNOWS. is it still valid attraction to men if it's an unobtainable celebrity? It's still a real life man, right? Even if you know nothing would ever come of it? Me feeling romantically attracted (or I guess crushing lol) on a male celebrity feels just as real and big and pure and whole as me feeling romantically attracted to an obtainable non-celebrity woman standing in front of me. AGAIN, WHO KNOWSSSSS

I like how you said labels are a tool and I don't need to force myself to have one that doesn't fit anymore. I just feel really like, panicked if I don't have a label, for some reason. Maybe "WLW" or "Sapphic" can be my placeholder. I like being bi but man I don't know if I was ever bi at all if I don't feel attracted to men unless if they're celebs/fictional?? It doesn't feel like I've gradually changed into something else, it feels like I've woken up from a dream-like state where I thought I was bi but it turns out I'm actually Not. unless if, like I said, I could be bi with just, the strongest attraction to women possible LMAO. it doesn't help that I'm ace because it makes it a little more confusing to figure out. soooo many people have told me "oh it depends on who you'd sleep with" but I don't want to sleep with anyone. y'know. never ever had that urge, no matter the gender. WHY IS IT SO CONFUSINGGGG BRO

anyway thank you for sending me a message and helping me feel heard/listened to. giving you hugs and flowers 💖💐🌼🌸🌻🌷✨🌹🌺🌈✨💖💝💟🌸💘✨

[system-of-a-feather]

Before I go to the gym I did want to ramble a bit on this since I usually talk about it in a very "haha ego" tone, but honestly, having very intense and strong violent fantasies and urges and a trauma-centered/functioned thirst, joy, and high in violence in a world where that isn't good or okay and there are Laws because it is a Society honestly is really annoying and sucks.

Like its easy to paint those as "owo evil psychopath" and its easy (I guess) with the radical valid uwu-ness fo the internet to write that off "uwu poor violent meow wow" but imo neither of them really are right.

Cause I'm not so stuck in my trauma that I don't realize that the world I was made for is an outlier and not representative of what it really is; and I'm not so stuck that I don't realize that following that trauma-driven need and high is only going to get me in places that my trauma would have wanted me to be in. I'm not gonna do it because I know that is "what my trauma would have wanted" and because its not going to help me; but I'm also not this innocent bun for having this either nor am I bluffing how intensely I want to go run off on them sometimes.

It sucks that something I have formed such an intense joy and positive emotional relationship to - something that brings me such fun an excitement from my childhood - is something that is both illegal, self destructive and forbidden. It's not needed anymore so the very thing I was formed to do and favorite joy in life is Not Allowed Anymore because it would be harmful to our life.

Violence, life-death crisis, and coming out on top of all of those is a childhood high of mine - arguably the majority of what I as a part remember growing up with. It's a huge part of my identity and an original large part of what brought me joy "in my childhood" and to be a functioning human out of a trauma environment and to do the best by my system and myself I've had to agree to swear off and leave all the plans I had growing up as "fantasies and ideation" and while I am MORE than willing and glad to sign up on it - that doesn't remove how much it sucks to throw a lot of the shit that brought you joy and excitement growing up and stuff that has become such a large part of your identity and life aside and start from scratch.

I'm already throwing away like 20 years of identity shaping life experiences aside to learn to live a better life for myself and my parts. I'm already exhibiting such restraint and mature growth and honestly thats why its a large reason about why I am so loudly honest about those fantasies and feelings.

If I am not allowed to act on it and I have to forfeit what was my childhood happiness and joy - then the very least I should be allowed to do is be honest and free to talk about them.

If anyone wants to tell me that I can't say that shit or I have to hide it or whatever, they are officially asking too much from me and I think they're overstepping boundaries because I am ALREADY doing a lot to be an acceptable human being and to recover. If someone wants me to still do that and hide and pretend to be better than I am, then I often just feel like I should jsut throw out ALL that Ive been giving up and just go have fun cause people will keep asking for more than I naturally can provide. Of course, even when I feel like that, I still can't and won't cause I owe it to my system more than I owe it to myself and more than I find myself annoyed and pissed with the boundary being crossed - and instead I tend to just block and remove said person from my life but ya know.

Like yes I am intensely loud about this and it might look like Im overplaying it because no one who actually thinks and has those would be so loud and obvious about it - but thats the whole point. I'm saying it to cope with the fact I won't do it. It's an alternative.

But anyways, I digress.

Evil Alter Rights matter too, man. Evil Alter Rights matter too. /mostly joking

-XIV

[ilovedthestars]

i've gotten to a place where I am starting to feel like i'm interested in Being Out as Aro/Ace but i'm also realizing how much that's just...harder than Being Out as Gay was.

rambling under the cut, because it got long.

i'm sure part of this is still my internal hangups about not being sure, not being able to define my experiences as neatly as I'd like to, etc, but i feel like it also just...comes up less. like, i'm not gonna sit down everyone in my life and do an official Coming Out conversation. i didn't really do that the first time around, except kind of very awkwardly with my parents (blurted it out in the middle of a family activity and then hid in my room for the rest of the evening) (they were fine and i'd knew they'd be fine but it was still terrifying and also painfully awkward). i've always been the "i want to just bring this up casually and have it not be a big deal" kind of person when it comes to coming out.

and like, when i was IDing as...i keep wanting to say "queer" because that was mostly the label i used, but I was using it to mostly mean gay/lesbian, and it's not like i'm not queer anymore, so if i seem awkward about calling myself gay for clarity's sake that's why. when i was IDing as gay it was easy to just be like, haha, yeah, girls are so pretty, when it came up in discussion with fellow gay people. omg, she's gorgeous, i'm so gay, etc. those little social rituals sometimes felt shallow, but they were already in place, and there were ways for me to be like, hey, i see you, me too, and have that little queer joy bonding moment with someone else.

(sidebar: in retrospect, maybe the reason I never wanted coming out to be a Big Deal is that sexuality and romance have......never been a big deal to me. i didn't have the big dramatic crushes or a secret girlfriend or anything. i was just like, hey, girls are pretty, and assumed that would eventually translate into the desire for a relationship somewhere down the line. so far it hasn't, and i'm starting to think it might never. hence the internal crisis and the slowly accepting that i'm somewhere in the vicinity of aro/ace.)

but anyway, for coming out as aspec, those little rituals just...aren't there. the closest i've stumbled upon is listening to a friend talk about an actor's bone structure and going "i'm too ace for this," but that's a declaration I don't know if I feel comfortable making to anyone but a close friend right now. the fact that I'm not particulary GNC in my presentation and I don't think i read as "visibly queer" doesn't really help the feeling that, in conversations with a group of queer people, I'm not sure if I'm being seen as one of them.

like, it's not even the idea of coming out to people who don't know what aro/ace means that bothers me. (although thank god I never went thru all the drama of coming out to my extended family as gay, because walking that back would be awkward.) for most of those people I honestly don't care that much. i can just be like, nah, not really interested in relationships, and move on. it's the fact that I want to be part of queer spaces, and belong in them. and i feel like I don't fit into them the same as i did before.

it's a weird kind of invisibility.

this is mostly in my own head, I think. I haven't had any direct experience with aphobia, and it's not that i expect that kind of reaction. i just...want that laughter and little bonding moment with people. maybe that's it--not having met a fellow aspec IRL, that i'm aware of. i haven't had the "hey, I see you, me too."

I have been able to have that in online spaces. (a lot of you reading this have been a part of that. you know who you are, and i am so, so grateful for you.) but i'd like to be able to have it in the queer spaces i'm a part of in my offline life as well.

[l4m3nt]

Mischa 'IN MY COUNTRY IT IS-' Bachinski

Noel had always wanted tragedy. 

He didn’t know why. He had just always found it beautiful. This was punctuated by his fantasies of being Monique Gibeau, a hooker who in every situation Noel came up with, suffered some terrible event. It felt nice to escape into a fantasy that was more exciting than his real life.

But those fantasies didn’t matter much when he was dead. 

Stuck in limbo with his fellow choir members, Noel often tried to fall back into his fantasies. It didn't work though. He was always distracted.

When he imagined Monique taking a lover who would then leave her for dead in the middle of the night, the man always had the deepest brown eyes.

When he imagined Monique being approached by a man at the bar, he was always tall and strong.

When he imagined Monique being on the other end a man trying to convince her to come home with him, the man always had a deep voice and a foreign accent.

Whenever he imagined anything it was always Mischa, Mischa, Mischa.

And the thing is, he had had a crush on the ukrainian boy back when they were alive. So this was nothing new, but it was infinitely more frustrating when Mischa was one of the only people he could talk with. 

“Noel Gruber!”

Noel was snapped out of his musing, turning to see Mischa jogging towards him. ‘Fuck’ he thought. There was no way he was going to survive with how much he and Mischa were talking. 

Mischa sat down next to him on the couch, looking so excited he could be compared to a golden retriever. “Noel! Can you do something for me?”

Noel smiled, “Sure, Misch. What is it?”

"Can you kiss me?”

Noel froze. “What?”

Mischa didn’t seemed to be disencouraged. “I am 99% sure of something, I want to make sure I am 100%. Ricky refuses to help me.” He moved so that he had a knee on the couch and was leaning over Noel.

“You’re being even more vague now. Just explain it to me.” Noel adjusted so that both his legs were on the couch, making it easier to back away. 

Mischa sat down on legs, which Noel doubted was comfortable. “I think I am thing where you like girls and boys. Want to test it with someone, and Ricky said no. You are only other boy.”

Noel immediately felt a wave of something wash over him. Anger, maybe. Probably remorse as well. “Mischa, I know you’re probably heartbroken about Talia, but that doesn’t mean you have to find a distraction.”

Mischa shook his head, a new, determined look on his face. “No, not it. Have accepted I can no longer have Talia. I just want to test this.”

Now Noel was just pissed. “Even so, you can’t just use me to settle your sexuality crisis. What happens if you turn out to not be queer? That 99% could all be theoretical.”

“No it is not. I am almost sure because normal things with certain boys make me, ah, fuzzy. Like how brushing hands with girl makes some boys excited. I just have never actually done anything with a boy.” Mischa seemed to be sweating, because he was wiping his palms on his pants.

“I don’t want to just be your confirmation that you're bisexual or whatever.” Noel looked over to the side. Ocean and Constance were a little farther away, and probably trying to listen. Ricky was with them but he looked more focused on Mischa, an almost worried look on his face.

Mischa huffed out and Noel could see out of the corner of his eye that he looked almost frustrated. “I promise, you will not be. You trust me, yes?”

“Fine, sure.” Noel fully faced him again and crossed his arms over his chest. Was he making this difficult? Yes. Did he care? No.

The Ukrainian’s eyes widened, like he was surprised Noel accepted. “Oh, okay.”

They sat like that for a beat, neither of them moving. Noel rolled his eyes, “Are you gonna do anything? I told you you could kiss me.”

“Yes. Just… nervous. I think.” Mischa sat down on his legs. He wasn’t looking at Noel anymore.

“Oh my fucking…” Noel grabbed Mischa's face and kissed him. The double-edged sword of being the only gay guy in a small town is that while you may get shunned, you may also get a lot of practice from closeted guys who want to fuck around with someone they know isn’t likely to turn them down

The kiss didn’t last too long. Noel just wanted to get it over with. He was ready for Mischa to throw himself back and realize that he was not, in fact, attracted to men. 

When the kiss was over, Mischa sat completely still. Noel’s hands were still on his face, making it so Noel could feel the way the other boy’s face heated up.  He could see it, too, with the way Mischa’s cheeks started to turn slightly pink.

“Well? You alright, Mischa?” Noel asked. Mischa blinked but still didn’t say anything. Noel lightly smacked him which seemed to wake him up a bit.

“A-ah. I am fine. Can you kiss me again?” Mischa licked his lips. Noel was starting to wonder if he had really fallen for this same joke again. You’d think he would have known better by now.

But Noel was nothing if not a bit weak once something started. He kissed Mischa again, and this time the other boy kissed back. Noel felt Mischa move his hands to his hips. Noel moved his own hands to Mischa’s shoulders.

They didn’t realize they were getting a bit heated until they were separated by someone. They both looked over and surely enough, Ocean was there with the most appalled look on her face. “You both need to chill! There are other people here, oh my god!”

Noel started laughing and apparently it was contagious, since Mischa started giggling. Ocean groaned and walked back to where she had been sitting with Constance. Mischa spoke in between his giggles, “I’m surprised she didn’t try to stop it earlier.”

“Me too. Maybe she was stuck in shock.” Noel smiled. He would never admit that hearing Mischa giggle made him feel like he had butterflies in his stomach. “Well, did that answer your question?”

Mischa looked him in the eyes. Noel thought his heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. I liked the kiss during your song, but I thought maybe that was just in my head from Karnak. If it was, I still like boys either way.’”

“Oh, really? Did you like the slap too?” Noel asked, a grin on his face. He expected Mischa to laugh or roll his eyes. Instead, he looked as if he had been caught. His eyes were wide and he didn’t have a smile any more.

Noel started laughing again, “Oh my god, you did!” Mischa put his head in the crook of Noel’s neck and said “Shut up.” though it came out very muffled. 

Over with the others, Ricky had a self satisfied look on his face, Ocean had puffed up cheeks and Constance had an amused smile on her face.

“Told you. Mischa may be the lover boy, but Noel has experience.” Ricky said. Ocean groaned.

“I know! I just thought that if Mischa was going to beeline his way over there he would at least be able to follow through if Noel accepted.” Ocean crossed her arms and scrunched up her nose.

Constance giggled, “Well, he never has thought things through, has he?”

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Gym buddies

Jungkook x reader

Summery: Never in your wildest dreams did you think that buying a local gym membership is going to bring you all that you needed and much more before your time ends…

TW!‼️‼️ suicide!talk. DO NOT READ IF SUICIDE IS A SENSITIVE TOPIC FOR YOU!

A/n: Literally found this in my notes and considering the emotional crisis I’m in right know decided to share.

<

“You’re my last friend Jungkook”

“Y/n I-“ Jungkook wore a smirk on his face ready to tickle your negative thoughts away once again.

“I’m killing myself on Wednesday.” You lock your gaze to the floor. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to worry when I won’t be in the gym on Thursday.”

You two sit in eerie silence for a while before you decide to leave. But before you can make your exit Jungkook grabs you arm making you stop in your step.

“What?” You turn to him.

“What?! You can’t just say something like this and think that I’m not going to react! Fuck for all I care I’m going to lock you up and look after you like you’re a baby if you’re this way!” Jungkooks eyes are blown open and a vain is throbbing on his neck.

“This way! What fucking way!? Depressed?! Suicidal?! Is that so fucking inconvenient to you? Sorry I didn’t ask for your god damn opinion. I just-“ You try to rid yourself of his iron grip on your hand.

“You what? You thought you’d do this and what then? What about me? How am I supposed to go on huh? Just come here every other day and be hunted by the memory of you? Please tell me how I am supposed to continue living when you have stopped?” You watch his eyes fill with tears as he clenches his jaw. He’s locked on you. Eyes never leaving your own.

“Your life is part of my own! You have no idea how much you mean to me do you? You think it’s only a gym friendship we have going on? Y/n I trusted you with my life here. And in return right now you’re trusting me with your own-“ Jungkook tried to make sense of the situation when all he felt was surging panic and pain overtake his body and mind.

“IM NOT-“

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE EVEN DOING Y/N! You can’t even control what you say anymore because you’re crying for help”

“It is not my help line. Don’t you understand how hard it is breathing when I know I could be dead right now?” tears drop from your eyes, all that’s in your heart falling through.

“Why do you say that? Why Y/n?” Jungkook collapsed on his knees, holding his head in his hands, but still not letting go of your hand.

“Because that’s how I feel. And you have never judged the way I feel. So it is not a cry for help but it’s my ‘thank you’ for you, it’s the truth, the thing you value most.” You release your closed fist and pat his head softly, feeling his soft curls slide underneath your fingertips, soaking up your last pieces of tranquility before you go…

>

[morvantmortuary]

12, 56, or 67 for the ask prompts - whichever of these you find most inspired by for our Maxi 🖤

12: "I'll love you til my breathing stops"

56: "I am not myself anymore, I'm yours"

67: "You're so perfect, why do you want me?"

hi bee! :’D sorry I’m an idiot! 🖤

I’ll be honest, this one is definitely more… personal than I intended. I started writing it when I was really Going Through It w/r/t some depression stuff, a minor existential crisis where I wondered if it was worth staying in my program, dealing with the fact that my closest friends were also going through it and nothing I said seemed to help, just a whole slew of stuff that left me feeling rock bottom.

another part of it, I think, is that I have this weird thing where even though these were yandere prompts, I just… had this thing where I couldn’t just write the Reader hearing them? like, I thought for even someone like Maxi, who worships the ground his reader walks on, to out and say some of these things, I had to like - justify them somehow. Like I couldn’t hear them unless I was emotionally bleeding out, almost. maybe it’s because I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort, or something else I need to go to therapy about idk

and then once I got so far in, I was like “rae wtf this is such a fucking bummer, no one is gonna want to read this,” and so for a while I thought about starting over again just for something more fun

but, eventually, I reread this piece again, and decided that even if it’s kind of a sad start, maybe someone else could use something for the worst kind of days. I meant to post this on Yule, bc “longest night of the year” and all, but we all know how I am with doing anything remotely on time :’D

so, if anyone else is maybe having a hard time on this xmas eve, I hope maybe this is a small something to help

warnings for some really vicious self-talk on the part of the Reader, v v v brief discussion of su!cidal thoughts (like I said, I was going through it), descriptions of an anxiety attack, Maxi being a little too happy to murder anyone who hurt you, Maxi and his Reader swearing their deaths to each other, descriptions of necromancy, patricide, etc.

merry xmas, and rora and hector both have pieces coming too - this was just the one that got finished first 🖤 thanks for being kind enough to request, and I’m sorry again it took so long! I hope it’s okay 🖤

it hurts because you’re alive

(maxi morvant x gn!reader)

It wasn’t often you still had to contend with the voice from the darkest part of your brain. The one that had stalked you through the left-hand mirrors from the Masquerade, the one that some demonic presence - essence? Whatever - imitated in Maxi’s own mouth when it was trying to convince you to let yourself lay down and be prey. Since you’d been building yourself a pleasant life in Greymoon, one that you were more than happy to share with the man who’d stolen your heart, it had retreated back to whatever noxious neural fold it called home.

That didn’t mean there weren’t hard nights. Ones where it found you left vulnerable by an insomnia that refused to abate.

This was one of them.

You weren’t sure what had set it off, really: maybe it was the fact that Murphy’s Law had been in full effect at work, and nothing you tried had been enough to turn the day around. Maybe it was the phone call with your mom after, where more than one she’d suggested (albeit gently) that despite all the progress towards feeling like yourself again you’d made since moving here, there was still more you could be doing. Maybe it was the texts you’d swapped with Pavi that afternoon, where she rehashed the latest fight she’d had with a girlfriend she would’ve readily called awful if she’d been yours, Em’s, or Laurie’s. As carefully as you’d tried to point out that Pavi seemed to accept things for herself that she would’ve found intolerable for any of her friends, the two of you had just gone in circles, with Pavi insisting that she was probably just being biased in her recounting of the argument and you nearly pleading with her to consider how she’d feel if anyone else she loved was being treated the same way. When this proved fruitless, you’d eventually stopped and just let your friend vent until she felt better. It was the least you could do.

But long after you’d said goodnight, you were still sitting cross-legged on the end of your bed, lost in thought as you worried the skin on your lower lip with your teeth. After years of living with your specific brain curses, your usual self-soothing method was straightening up your house while listening to music as loud as you could stand it on your headphones; the idea being that bouncing between tasks with something drowning out the Voice would eventually convince it to give up and let you focus on anything else. But tonight, that had only left you more restless than usual. Your brief attempt to sleep had just ended in you plugging your string of fairy lights back in and returning to your playlist, trying to ward off your internal darkness with external stimuli.

How did you think you would be enough?

You trapped a piece of skin between your teeth, and bit down.

No, really. How did you possibly think anything you had to offer, to any of them, would be enough?

“It’s not about me,” you muttered aloud. “It was just a bad day. Shit happens. I’ll live, it’s fine.”

Your teeth, however, bit down once again on the spot. You could just taste the faintest trace of blood.

And now you’re talking to yourself. Just like old times.

Fuck off, you thought instead, but the Voice just seemed to crow in the fact that it’d made you change.

Oh, you little idiot. Just as spineless as you’ve always been. Your job knows that, you know - you weren’t smart enough or quick enough to improvise today. They all saw you fail. You let everyone down. Again.

This is unhelpful. You knew this was unhelpful. This was just wallowing. Everyone had bad days. This would pass. You would be fine.

…Right?

Your progress is not enough for your mother. She knows you can do more, do better. Be more. You can dress up laziness as contentment all you like, it’s still obvious to her. She must be so disappointed in what you turned out to be.

Your teeth kept sawing at the skin, and you winced at the sting of its separation from raw flesh, even as the taste of blood spread across your tongue.

Your love is not enough for your friend. It doesn’t matter how ferociously you care for her - it isn’t ever going to outweigh the hurt she’s willing to endure for even a taste of someone else’s. Someone real.

Stop, you begged yourself. You knew what came next.

How long until that ‘soulmate’ of yours sees all this and realizes his mistake?

You didn’t hear yourself whimper at this over the bass in your ears, the volume hurting now more than helping. You made no move to turn it down.

I’m curious. You suck at math, but make me laugh with an attempt: how long, exactly, do you think it will take for him to realize you weren’t worth the pain he went through? That he’s scarred, now, for nothing that could actually matter?

Your teeth picked a new spot and bit, but the tears were already there.

How long do you think you have until he resents you for your weaknesses? For everything you couldn’t be?

How long until even a creature of the utmost darkness finds you, and your broken little brain and heart, intolerable?

No, you pushed back. He’s not that. He isn’t, even with what he did. Does. He could never be. He’s good, his heart is good, despite everything that tried to force him to be otherwise. 

Fine, the voice amended. Then how long until he gets restless because he’s stuck with a burden like you? Because you could never amount to more than everything you are that no one should ever have to deal with, much less love?

You blinked, feeling your breath begin to shake as something warm slid down your face. 

There we go, the voice purred. You aren’t completely stupid after all. Gold star for effort.

You tried to force yourself to pick up your hands and wipe your face. Try to stem the flow of tears that turned your eyeliner into so much grime under your eyes, something else that added to the pathetic ineptness of your mien.

But they sat, listless and useless, on your thighs that took up too much room.

You can still exit gracefully, you know. …Well. As gracefully as possible for you. You owe everyone that much.

This was a lie. You knew, on some level, this was a lie. But it felt like the conscious You was locked at the back of your brain, kicking uselessly as this creature that seemed to slither and circle around the rest of your skull - and squeeze.

Your boyfriend’s a mortician, for crying out loud. He’ll at least make you look decent so you’re not a total embarrassment to anyone. Your mom won’t even have to clean up the mess when they find it.

…You had to admit. This made a certain, pragmatic amount of sense. It was tidy. Convenient.

Easier, perhaps, than the mortifying alternative of staying. Of letting anyone look too close.

He might even think one of your friends at the service is cute. Two birds, one stone. Provided any show up, of course.

That’s fair, you figured, this would be fairly short notice. People might still have to work, or have other plans, and you couldn’t expect people to drop everything for—

You let out a small shriek as you felt a chilled hand settle on your shoulder, nearly falling off your bed as you pushed hard away from the direction of your door.

When you just caught yourself on the edge of your mattress, you whipped around to see Maxi standing there, flattening himself as best he could against the doorframe and showing you his palms with an equally startled expression.

He mouthed something at you, and you could only blink, still not quite firing on all cylinders. He pointed to his own ear, looking concerned, and you jumped, quickly pulling your earbuds out.

“Sorry,” you managed. “Didn’t hear you come in.” You winced as you could hear your own voice crack, and before you could clear your throat, Maxi’s face changed.

“Hey now.” In one fluid motion, he crossed the space between you and fell to a knee where you perched at the end of your bed, peering up into your face with a familiar, scalpel-sharp scrutiny. “You okay, gorgeous?”

You looked away, trying to avoid his searching gaze, but he caught your jaw gently, guiding you by his fingertips at your chin to look at him again.

He made a small noise of alarm in his throat when you faced him, and when you finally met his eyes, he looked stricken. “Darlin’, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he murmured. His fingers traced over the tracks of your tears, wiping them away. He turned his hand slightly to examine his own fingertips, looking increasingly worried, before he moved closer to your knees to look up into your eyes. “Did someone upset you?” 

For the most part, he still sounded like your partner - sweet, thoughtful, a habitual worrier - but you could hear the edge of something else creeping into his question. Something darker, lurking at the back of his own skull.

But how could you explain? If you told him what was going on - what was really happening - wouldn’t that just prove your inner darkness right? That you were a burden, demanding of care?

You kicked yourself internally, feeling guiltier now. Maxi already had to deal with a lot at his job, people grieving real losses. Why should he have to come home to even more crying from you, who was just wallowing in their own despair?

“Hey,” he urged again, softer, snapping you back to reality. He reached up, gently intertwining his fingers with yours where your hands still sat on your lap. “Angel, c’mon. You’re scarin’ me a little here. Tell me what’s goin’ on, okay? Let me help. Do I need to have words with someone?” He traced his thumbs across the back of your hands, trying to soothe you - but you fixated on the way he subconsciously rolled his shoulder, the one you had marked on that dark Halloween in the cemetery.

For some reason, it was that gesture - so innocuous, yet obvious in how you seemed to inflict yourself on him, on everyone - that finally broke the dam between your sinking heart and the world outside. The spiral had you fully in its grasp, and there was no getting out.

Your eyes blurred over as you looked resolutely down, feeling tears escaping their bounds faster than you could hold them back. A few of them made splattered constellations on the skin of your legs, just adjacent to where Maxi’s hands where intertwined with yours. You bit down on your lip, trying to muffle the sob that had been building for what felt like the entire evening, but the smallest of sounds still managed to wriggle its way out around your teeth.

Maxi let go of your hands abruptly, and you couldn’t blame him for his withdrawal - until the cold clutch of them encircled your face, guiding your head gently upwards to meet his eyes.

What you found waiting for you was the color of blood from deep in the body, seeming to burn of their own accord in the dim of your room. He was practically nose to nose with you, staring at you over the tops of his glasses with a look like a knife’s edge. “Give me a name,” he said, so soft it was barely more than a whisper. His fingers stroked your skin, but his grip was firm. “And they won’t see sunrise. I promise.” He leaned forward to close the distance between you, kissing gently at one of the tracks of your tears - but you still felt the brief, hot touch of the tip of his tongue to the spot. “Let me take care of it for you, please.”

You sniffled, trying to rescue some shred of composure. “It’s n-nobody. Really.”

“Oh, angel,” Maxi cooed, pulling just slightly back. He traced a new trail down your cheek with his thumb, hovering close to you. “You don’t have to defend anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Whatever it was, whatever they said to cause - this,” his hand flipped to stroke your skin with a knuckle. “It’s justified for me.” He kissed your forehead before meeting your eyes again. 

You shook your head as the last of your composure slipped through your grip. “It’s not even a-anybody’s fault,” you managed around the lump in your throat. “I s-swear, it’s just…” You swallowed hard, but the ache just caused you to stop. “It’s just my fucking broken-ass brain.”

“…It’s what now?” You could practically hear the record scratch in Maxi’s brain as the murder dropped out of his expression entirely, leaving him blinking as the glimmering red seemed to cool like the last embers of a campfire.

You hurriedly wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “It’s nothing, I told you,” you mumbled. “I’m just fucking sad again over some stupid shit that doesn’t m-matter, like always,” you tried to inhale, but your breath shook too hard for you to get any relief. “And I c-can’t change it—“

Your heart was thundering in your ears, washing out all other sound. You were drowning. 

“B-because I’m not g-good at making anything better, for anyone—“

Your skin was too hot. You felt seasick. This was really it, wasn’t it. The moment that you finally tipped your hand and showed how much of a wreck you really were inside, and he would make the only logical decision. One you could never blame him for, really, because it was inevitable.

It fell out of your mouth in a rush, insensate almost to your own ears: “And I’m just going to be like this forever, and you’re going to get sick of me and leave, and why shouldn’t you, when I can’t even keep my shit together and just be a n-normal fucking functional—“

You were aware of the words dying on your lips, the sudden movement causing the ache to leave your lungs in an exhale, but you weren’t sure of the cause.

You also weren’t quite sure why the room shifted, or why you were suddenly staring up at your ceiling rather than down at your feet, but you were conscious of being cocooned in the essence of your partner: the faintest hint of embalming fluid, something like wood polish, the cologne he put on this morning, and the touch of laundry detergent that had started to smell like home to you.

You realized he’d taken you both to your mattress in a near-tackle, cradling you before you could realize what was happening. You were caged in his arms now, laying sideways next to him with your hands pressed against his chest between the pair of you. The pressure you felt around your torso was him squeezing like he was trying to keep you from coming apart at your ribs. 

Like you were something fragile.

It took you a moment to realize further that his lips were against your hair, and the hiss you heard was him shushing the tiny, cracking sobs that were finding their way piecemeal out of your chest.

“No, baby, I’m always gonna be yours,” Maxi murmured into your hair. “It’s okay, baby. You’re my life, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He kissed your head like he was trying to kiss your skull itself. “Mine’s broke too. It’s okay.”

You half-sobbed, half-hiccuped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t— you shouldn’t have to—“

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Maxi insisted, somehow managing to hug you tighter without bruising your sides. “You’re mine. I won’t ever go somewhere without you.”

“But I’m a mess,” you blurted wetly against his vest, your chest kicking like a horse from the inside. “I’m such a mess, Maxi, I’m gonna wear you out. I wear everyone out, you don’t understand.”

Maxi shifted so instead of keeping you against his chest, he was eye-level with you, squeezing your shoulders in his hands as his glasses were somewhat crooked against your pillow. “Darlin’, I know everything feels wrong right now, and your brain’s not fightin’ fair,” he said softly, his eyes wide as he searched yours. “But I think your sense of scale is a little bit… skewed, here.” He smiled weakly. “I’m not tryin’ to make light of anything, but I think I have a little more reason to be worried about somethin’ like that.”

Your heart was racing in your chest like you were trying to drive with no way to steer. “I don’t wanna make you tired of me,” you managed, not entirely sure if you were making sense anymore. “I don’t want to make your mark hurt anymore, I don’t want you to come home from a long day to me being a drain, I don’t want you to realize you got a bad deal.”

“Angel,” Maxi soothed, running a hand over your hair. “You’re not thinkin’ straight. That’s not somethin’ I would think about you, ever. You’re talkin’ to the serial killer here, remember?” he added, with a laugh that sounded more nervous than anything. “You’re the one who got more than you signed up for.”

“You had to go through that whole thing with your dad, and They Who Decide,” you went on, as if he’d proved your point. “You wouldn’t have had to if I wasn’t here. You wouldn’t have had to get hurt, or get possessed, or—“

“For you, I’d do it all again tomorrow,” Maxi said, his voice soft. “In a heartbeat. I don’t care.”

You shook your head, not sure how you couldn’t make him see what was right in front of his eyes. “I’m not worth that, Maxi, that’s what I’m trying to tell you now rather than you waste more time.”

“And I’m tryin’ to tell you,” Maxi argued, his eyes plaintive. “That I don’t care what that demon in your head says, baby. I got one too,” he insisted, loosening an arm so he could gesture at his temple. “The real one and the one that comes from growin’ up thinkin’ I’m dead already, and nothin’ would ever change that. You have no idea how many times a day I wish to god,” he smiled, and it was strained. “I wish I could go back, somehow, and tell me when I was livin’ through the worst parts — every dark basement, every broken body, every night feelin’ absolutely fuckin’ inhuman — that we were gonna find you. That all this bullshit was gonna turn out to be worth it. All the years of feelin’ like I couldn’t tell anyone the truth, and we survived.”

Your shoulders bucked slightly as you fought your sobs. “I don’t want to let you down. I’m so scared of disappointing you, you don’t understand—“

Maxi took your face in his hands again, his gaze pleading. “No, you don’t understand,” he said, and you could hear him fighting to keep his voice steady. “You don’t have to be the one that’s afraid of that. You could never disappoint me in a way that matters. I’d swear it to you on our future tomb. I need you to listen to me, baby, I will love you ’til my breathin’ stops and long, long after. There’s nothin’ you could do, no part of you that you hate that would ever make me think otherwise. You could put a bullet through the dead center of my chest, and not only would I think you were in the right, I’d still love you when I hit the ground.”

The idea of causing him harm of any sort squeezed your throat harder than the lump that was already there. “I don’t know how you can say that,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I keep waiting for you to realize that I’m not enough to justify that kind of pain. I’m so scared of hurting you. Of being the reason you get hurt.” Your hands found his shoulders and your fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something to hold on to. “You’ve already been through so much, you don’t deserve to suffer when you can avoid it. I couldn’t stand myself if I brought that on you, on top of all my shit you already have to put up with.”

The red returned to Maxi’s eyes, and oddly, you were more soothed than alarmed. You almost wanted his darker self there as a form of assurance, to know that it could protect the man you loved from the fathomless chasm that felt like it was splitting your chest.

“Listen to me,” he demanded, that shadow from his eyes creeping into his words. “I never… I never got to belong to myself, you understand? I was always my family’s next chess piece on the board, or They Who’s next prize monster, or the reaper’s host. I knew that. I spent my life knowin’ that, and I didn’t see another option.”

You recognized the way his fingers of his left hand moved against your back, his tell for weighing his options. The way his eyes went briefly distant, you realized he was making a decision.

His free hand moved to his chest, tracing the scar there through the fabric of his clothes. “…This wasn’t…” He trailed off, his lips a frustrated line as he chose his words. His eyes met yours again, the red still there, brighter now. “…This wasn’t just my dad,” he said at last. “I mean, he put the first one there. The original.” He hesitated a moment longer, the tip of his tongue briefly tracing his lip. “…When I thought my family’s legacy was all I had — all I’d ever have — I reopened it.”

You flinched in horror at the very idea, knowing just how deep that scar tissue went, how thick it was over the muscle. “Oh, Maxi… why, baby?”

A corner of his mouth twitched into a grimace “There’s all sorts of things you can do with a heart when you know how, babydoll. Unnatural things that no one can undo… that no good person would ever dream of.” His eyes moved to a point in the distance over your shoulder, something in them dimming. “And for a long time, I studied it. I read everythin’ I could find about it. It was all I could dream about anymore.” His eyes flicked back to yours. “I was ready to give up blood, skin, and bone for just the chance that it would work.”

Your tears were sticky on your face where they were drying, and you fought a shiver from somewhere deep in your gut, like it recognized something in Maxi’s words you didn’t. “…So what happened?” You couldn’t help but whisper, despite the fact that it was just the two of you in your room. 

Like you were afraid something else would hear you.

An exceptionally grim smile bloomed on Maxi’s face. “Not my proudest moment, is what.” He looked away from you again, as if he couldn’t bear to hold your gaze. “Or maybe it was, I don’t know. It was the night I buried my mother. I wasn’t sober by any means, but my father was dead drunk. He interrupted me, we got to arguin’, then screamin’, and before I quite realized what I’d done… he was just dead.”

Silence settled over the pair of you as he met your eyes again, watching you like he was waiting for you to recoil from him. To suddenly realize in that moment what kind of monster had been sharing your bed for all this time.

“…Yeah, well,” you murmured. You reached up, gently brushing a lock of his hair away from his eyes as you held his gaze. “Good riddance.”

Maxi’s smile softened into the one you knew best, his eyes relieved despite the shade lingering in them. “I didn’t realize just how lucky I was that night. Not by half.” He reached up, moving some of your hair on your pillow away from your face. “Because later, after so long of never belongin’ to myself, you let me be yours. And you gave me back what was left of me, you hear?” He swallowed hard, and you could finally see the glow that had swept in with the familiar red gleam was at least partially tears of his own. He traced the line of your cheek. “You reminded me I was still a person, somewhere under all of this. That I was allowed to want more than just grittin’ my teeth and gettin’ through what brief mortal life I was meant to have.” He shifted on his pillow again, closing the distance between the two of you. “I spent ages askin’ myself, ‘they’re the closest thing to perfect I’ve ever had, the hell do they want with me?’ And—“ He stopped, forcing himself to take a breath that wasn’t quite steady anymore. “And you took such… care of me,” he went on. “You loved me so much, I started to believe I could just… be human, after all this time. Could deserve to be loved, even.” 

He moved his hands so his arms encircled your waist again, hugging you tightly while giving him enough space to keep eye contact. “You have no idea how many times in my life I went out in the dark and didn’t care if I saw daylight,” he said softly. “But that night we walked into the Masquerade together, I knew I’d fight Hell itself just to stay alive with you for one more hour. I’d never been more certain of anything in my entire life.”

The heat that seemed to fill your own eyes, lingering at your lash line, was from something entirely different now.

“Your brain chemistry can run its miserable little mouth all it wants, darlin’.” Maxi rested his forehead gently against yours. “And I’ll be here to hold you until it quiets down, whenever you need me to. But it’s dead wrong. I know that for a fact.” One of his hands, still cool to the touch, cupped your cheek like you were something wondrous. “There is nothin’ about my life you haven’t made better just by bein’ in it. And we’re gonna live a longer one still. A happy one, despite everythin’, together,” he took one of your hands in his, bringing it gently to his lips. “I love you exactly as you are. I always will.”

Fresh rivulets formed on your face, but these felt… different. Like rain after a drought.

You wound your arms around his neck, trapping his chest — scar and all — against your own. “I love you the same,” you whispered. “Exactly as you are. All of you.” You pressed a single kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And there’s nothing that can ever change that.”

Maxi’s grin was unmistakable. “Y’know, it’s the damnedest thing,” he said quietly. “For the first time, I’m lookin’ forward to livin’ through whatever’s next.”

You smiled for what felt like the first time in days. “I’m glad I get to be here for it.”

Maxi leaned forward to kiss you properly, long and slow as though to make it last the rest of your lives.