#too lazy to draw the braids o(-(

[royaltea000]

Designing what I think a human Barf and Belch would look like -w-

[urfavlarry]

I recently got into School bus graveyard and I COMPLETELY understand the hype, idk if im the only who does this... but literally the moment I was done I went to tumblr for fics, but there's like none?? So maybe some dating headcanons for the group!! ^^

Dating Headcanons for the sbg characters

Ashlyn Banner

best person to have a lazy day with tbh

i swear yall would be like “should we go out today” look at each other for 5 seconds and say “nah”

she would teach you some gymnastics and laugh when your just lying there complaining how you aren’t flexible

probably is more of a person that gives you gifts, or gives you a hug in stead of comforting you with words

she would be a bit awkward at first probably

also I don’t think she likes excessive physical touch cuz red confirmed that Ashlyn is autistic but when she gets used to you she would be okay with it but still, don’t go too hard on her

you let her play/stim with your fingers

you’re always there for her when she gets overwhelmed and she loves you so much for that

doesn’t call you that many nicknames probably a short version of your name but if your name is already short then probably just love or babe

if you speak another language she would definitely wanna know some words or learn with you

if it’s your mother language then she would be like “omg how was [your country] like!”

probably is a nerd in some sort of way

anyway probably a great girlfriend to have but only if you aren’t the type to be really really and I mean REALLY extroverted

Taylor Hernández

this girl is such a cutie!!

would plan dates, sleepovers, night outs..

drawing/picnic dates are a must

watching the sunset or sunrise together on the rooftop

calls you cute nicknames like sunshine, mi vida, sugar and that kind of stuff

is very affectionate

cuddles !!

shes the little spoon probably but if you’re feeling down then she will gladly be the big spoon

you would definitely braid her hair if you know how, if you don’t know then there’s another idea for a date! teaching you how to braid hair!

probably isn’t even that awkward at first probably a little bit shy but gets pretty confident later on

the best partner to have if you’re insecure

makes your insecurities disappear in a heartbeat

overall a 11/10 girlfriend !! we love taylor :D

Tyler Hernández

he is probably a tsundere tbh

acting like he doesn’t care but when you are alone he babies you sm

no matter if your bigger then him, stronger, smaller, it doesn’t matter, he babies you no matter what

don’t let the others know tho

isn’t afraid to show you off like girl bffr

holds your hand, has his hand on your waist, kisses you on the forehead, cheek or lips before class starts (even if you are in the same class)

uses nicknames like mi amor, mi reina/mi rey, baby ect.

nicknames with him are endless

movie night is a must

probably would take you to his baseball practice

has a separate album for you only

everyone in the group can tell he’s love sick like he looks at you with heart eyes

a jealous type probably

would beat up anyone and everyone who looks at you the wrong way

he’s probably touch starved and he hides his feelings from you because he just prioritises you over anything

you gotta full on force him to tell you what’s wrong but after a while he opens up to you normally

a 100/10 boyfriend the poor boys been through too much

Logan Fields

gardening dates!!

gives you flowers when you’re sad or just whenever to make your day!

stargazing dates

yapps your ear off about astrology (you let him tho)

calls you nicknames like bunny, hun, love

gives you honest opinions on everything

regrets his choices when you get grumpy afterwards

makes it up to you by cuddling you or kissing your whole face

introduces you to his grandparents

they approved of course because they just trust that he can pick himself a good s/o

hugs from behind!!

reads you a book when you can’t sleep

helps you with your work but doesn’t do it for you (Barron trauma)

best person to seek when you want comfort and or advice

gives you honest advice so if you were in the wrong expect him to tell you lmao

if you listen to music on vinyls or CDs then definitely brings you to a music shop and he will spoil you rotten

loves listening to your music taste no matter what genre it is he just wants to bond with you

he’s such an adorable and amazing boyfriend it mealts my heart !! :D

Aiden Clark

be prepared to patch this boy up every single second of the day

and also getting him out of trouble every single day

he is a wild one for sure

doesn’t mean he’s a bad boyfriend

loves showing you things he learned on his skateboard and he tries to teach you

does that thing where he holds your hands while your on the skateboard, tells you to jump and flips the board for you

that tik tok kind of shi

while on the topic of tik tok, does every silly couple tik tok trend with you lmao

yapps your ear of all day every day

not the best person to ask for advice from but he will hold you until you feel better!

best cuddle buddy

and hug buddy

if you don’t like physical touch then idk if you could have a relationship with him, he will CLING to you as if his life depended on it

loves it when you play with his hair

makes a playlist for you two

calls you nicknames like rockstar, doll, my love, bae, babe

definitely has you saved as “future wife🤭❤️” or “the mother of my kids🥵😍”

he be weird like that

loves to have you in his lap

idk he probably likes you ass sm, not in a sexual way but just lays on it, smacks it, squishes it..

only in private tho

honestly a pretty good boyfriend but he’s more of like your child then boyfriend

Ben Clark

a chill one for sure

hugs, holding hands are a must

listening to music through his headphones how he did with Taylor in that one episode

jealousy scale is um pretty high

you gotta reassure this boy because he’s just scared of loosing you

would fr fight 100 people at once for you if you asked him to

whenever he gets angry, you’re there for him when Aiden can’t and he appreciates that

loves it when you hold his hand and rub circles on the back of it

forehead kisses >>

probably doesn’t give you that many nicknames since he doesn’t speak, either a short version of your name, bae or hun

the best listener ever (not because he doesn’t speak)

when you start to yap and just talk about the most random things he has your back against his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder

very chill and overall good boyfriend

[sukirichi]

black magic [01]

REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)

CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol

NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!

part one | part two (nsfw)

“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”

“You sound like you care.”

“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”

You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.

It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.

You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.

Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then.”

 “I refuse to be married to you!”

Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?

Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.

Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.

Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.

“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”

“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”

Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.

You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.

Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.

So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”

You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.

Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”

“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.

You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.

“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”

“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“I—”

Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”

“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”

“I hate you!”

Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.

“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”

“N-no...”

“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”

There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.

You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.

You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.

Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”

You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”

“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”

“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”

“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”

“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.

Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”

If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.

[shinebrightlikeanarwhal]

So in your drawing it looks like Travis‘s hair is covering his eyes and I’m like going insane over it. so here is my idea once it gets long enough travis starts wearing it so he can cover his eyes because years of trauma doesn’t just go away but Larry, sal and ash just like beg him to wear it so that they can see his face because he is pretty a very pretty boy. And one more thing he has hidden things in his hair. Todd once asked for a pencil and travis just put his hand in his hair then pulled out a pencil and it confused everyone except Neil because him and Travis do their hair together and you can’t change my mind

YES SOMEONE SAW WHAT I WAS GOING FOR!!!

I was worried people would think I was just being lazy ;o;

He would 100% wear his hair out over his face just because he liked the way it looked and it made him feel safe. He didn’t like people looking at his eyes, which people did A LOT. Especially in college when he dressed how he wanted too. A fashionable pretty boy is a treat to the eyes, but sometimes they don’t want you staring at them.

Larry begging and pleading to see Travis’ face after months of long braided bangs and fros over his face. He was absolutely adorable with his hair pulled back in pretty puffs or braided ponytails. Sal always wants to play in his hair before he does it or gets it done.

The best pet of Travis with a fro is him learning all the styles he can do with it and all the protective styles he can get that would look so pretty on him. Like the different braids and the accessories that just look ABSOLUTLEY stunning on him. (I don’t care Snow White hair on brown skin looks so pretty. Especially with gold decor dangling from it.

Travis getting compliment bombed every time they see his face. He’s so shy and embarrassed it’s adorable. They enjoy the cute little embarrassed actions of hiding his face behind Gizmo, pillows, his own hands. Even burying it into Larry or Sals chest or stomach so no one can see. Don’t even get me started on the way they EXPLODE when he gets glasses.

Travis with glasses is a gift from the gods

- a desperate artist just trynna hold hands

[alexaplaysgames]

Title: Rhythmic Relics

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC(Last Legacy)

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff

Description: The MC listens to the sound of Felix’s relic. It’s cute ig :)

Notes: written for @prakra! Sorry for the delay, the day I do anything on time will be the day I die. Also- I honestly don’t know much about how relics work so I hope this isn’t wildly inaccurate :) send me more requests if you want!

“Stop- hah- stop that!” Felix laughs. He squirms as I kiss along his neck, a playful glint in his eyes in spite of his protests. Though his cheeks are stained by his ever-present blush, he smiles. The sight of it makes my heart flip. The fabric of the sofa beneath him has mussed his hair, and the afternoon sunlight that streams in through the windows makes his pale irises glow a near-white.

“You’re. Too. Cute.” I say, punctuating each word with another kiss. Felix only groans and shoves me off of him, but his smile takes on a softer edge. He looks up at me with that same soft smile, eyes tracing over my features in open admiration.

“You are quite adorable, as well,” he mumbles, drawing his fingers over my cheek.

I fake swoon. Felix snorts.

A moment passes, then he wraps his arms around my neck and pulls back me down for another open-mouthed kiss. As our lips meet, I can feel the curve of his mouth against my own. His eyelashes brush against my cheek as they flutter shut, the softness of his swollen lips familiar and welcome against my own.

I kiss his chin one last time before I lay my head on his chest. Felix responds by nuzzling into the crown of my head with a faint hum. Thanks to the open fabric off his shirt, I can feel the cold skin of his chest against my cheek. I squeeze my arms tighter around his waist. Felix squeaks. His heartbeat rapidly accelerates, which makes me smile, pleased.

The warm sunlight, the steady beating of his heart, and the sound of his breath all melt into a soothing lull that makes me feel lazy; nuzzling deep into his chest, I yawn, tired and sated.

Soon, I almost feel like I might fall asleep, but then another sound catches my ears. Like a faint hum, a low, trilling, musical sound emanates from beneath his skin. It’s quite strange, but frankly comforting and oddly melodic.

“Felix?”

“Yes, my dear?”

I briefly contemplate how to phrase my question without sounding ridiculously incompetent. “Why is your heart… singing?”

Well, so much for that, I suppose.

I can’t see his face, but I’m sure his expression must be priceless. His fingers have halted where they were brushing through my hair, sectioning it into tiny braids. “O-oh,” Felix stammers. “That.”

“Yes, that.”

“My relic. I suppose you can hear it, being in possession of a relic yourself.”

“Your relic,” I repeat. I’ve never really understood the complexities of relics, but I suppose that makes some sense. “I like it. It sounds… nice.”

Is that an odd thing to say? I’m beginning to wonder if making such an observation is strange; Felix’s chest has gone still beneath me.

“T-thank you,” he eventually chokes out. “I’m glad.”

I listen to the sound a few moments longer before I turn my head, nudge aside the fabric of his shirt, and press a kiss on the skin directly over his heart.

I’m surprised, when I return my head to his chest, to find that his heart is still beating. Judging by the sound he made, Felix might have just died. He shivers beneath me, then breathes in deeply before he hugs me tighter again, burying his face in my hair as he always does when he tries to hide his flush.

“Go to sleep,” he grumbles, abashment obvious in his tone.

I snicker before I snuggle deeper into him and close my eyes, letting his heartbeat and the hum of his relic soothe me to a dreamless sleep.

[issamhysa]

kenma and his s/o have a lazy day

!!!!!! i feel love for kenma in this chili’s tonight !!!!!! plus this is purely self indulgent and i thought some people would appreciate it SO here !!!!!!

yisss lazy days with kenma are sort of the best????? first of all y’all don’t get out of your sleepwear bc why would you?? it’s a lazy day you get to wear wearing a hoodie and shorts and like it’s fine we ball

kenma adores these days bc he doesn’t have to worry about having to socialize!! he can just spend the day w his favorite person in the whole wide world doing whatever the fuck they want and it’s an actual blessing

it comes to a point where y’all don’t even know WHAT to do

most of the day consists of you sitting on kenma’s lap anyway so,,,, like he’ll be vibing on the couch and you’ll be almost hanging off the back of the couch?? occasionally he’ll use his nose to push your hoodie up and squish his cheek against your hip bc he likes how warm your skin is

you never win anyway, he always beats you unless he LETS you win >:/ but i mean at least he gets to see your pretty lil smile when you get cross the finish line before him so it’s worth the little teasing remarks you’ll make later

y’all play black ops and it’s all great until you both decide to 1v1. call of duty is the one (1) game you and kenma are pretty much equals at so you’ll both go apeshit on each other??? kenma’s not the type to get physical but he WILL crawl on you to take away your controller if you win too many times

animal crossing is your favorite tho!! you visit each other's islands and vibe and talk about how good you guys are at decorating and i hhhhhhhn it's CUTE you guys play it to wind down cause it's relaxing (unless you're getting chased by the BEES)

when y'all get tired of video games it's netflix time!! you spend a good 20 minutes trying to decide on what to watch before you decide on rewatching demon slayer for like the 3rd time around

perfect time for cuddling :))) please sit with kenma's head on your lap he wants you to run your fingers through his hair he loves your HANDS that's it!! sometimes you'll try to braid it or pull it into a lil ponytail or spacebuns and when he gets up and walks by a mirror he'll go !!!!!!

naptime def happens here like you'll both just look at each other n go "yea" and either stay on the couch or migrate towards the bed, depending on whether you wanna move or not. anyway, you both sleep wrapped in kenma's favorite blanket (it's a plaid blanket but it's made out of wool n very soft n warm god BLESS) <3 it's the best bc you start off cuddling and then when you wake up kenma's taking up like half of the bed and you're dangling off the edge

lazy days mean neither of you have to cook so you're on food duty!! picking between pizza and thai is a chore so like it's harder than you'd expect. plus, the bakery down the street delivers!!! so you get fresh chocolate chip cookies!!! and oatmeal bc they're kenma's favorite (occasionally you'll get kuroo chocolate chunk cookies so he doesn't annihilate yours)

he lets you paint his nails if you’re super bored. he doesn’t really like drawing attention to himself so he won’t go for super duper bright colors but i think he’ll be okay with black?? it’ll look good and he loves it when you touch his hands so it’s a win-win situation here

[whorefordazai]

hi i’d like a matchup please!! my pronouns are she/they, and i’m 5’9 with blond hair and grey eyes. i’m very quiet and i often keep to myself but i can be a lot more talkative and friendly with people i’m comfy with. i’m very forgetful and sleepy, and i tend to be lazy. my hobbies are cooking, drawing, writing, and playing videogames. i like sleeping, cats, and cute things, and i like yellow and pink. i’m ok with being matched with either gender, but i’d prefer it to be a boy. thank you! <33

I match you with...

Nakahara Chuuya! ´ˎ˗

👾 okay—chuuya absolutely adores you. he might be a little more short tempered and loud, but at the end of the day when he comes home to you—it’s bliss. he’s a mafia man—so he’s stressed the whole day. so you’re like heaven to him. all he wants to do is come home and collapse in your arms.

👾 he likes that you can be comfortable with him, it makes him feel special that he sees a side of you that not many others do. cooking—I feel like he can cook so you being able to cook lowkey ticks him off at first LMAO. don’t get him wrong, it’s only because he wanted to show off his cooking skills but you beat him to it☺️

👾 he might like dogs—and you love cats, but he’ll warm up to kitties once you decide to bring him one. he literally can’t reject you once you place the small kitten on top of his lap. mafia man suddenly went soft LMAO. he sometimes lets you braid his hair while the kitten purrs on his lap. so it just ends up being you, him, and the kitten cuddling together💗 SO CUTE AJSHS

👾 dates are kinda spur-of-the-moment between you two. depending on the day, it could either be a fancy dinner or just hanging out casually. on the days that both of you are too tired to get up from bed, you usually spend the day laying in each other’s arms. at one point, chuuya will be taking a nap with his head rested on top of yours—with you in his arms playing video games.

SONGS ´ˎ˗

- without you | lana delray

- runaway | aurora

- fool for you | zayn

- she looks so perfect | 5 seconds of summer

- wrecking ball | mother mother

MESSY LAYOUT ´ˎ˗

[robin-the-enby]

Hey! I love your matchups and I really want one with on the black butler characters.

I am ISTJ and even though I was born in America I come from a Mexican family. So I am fluent in Spanish and English. Along side of Mandarin Chinese (still learning) and Japanese (still learning)

Appearance wise, I have olive skin, long wavy/curly hair that reaches my tailbone (i like putting it in side braid). I also have long bangs that quite often fall over my glasses. And just too lazy to move them. I also have dimples when I smile. I will bite anyone who try poke them.

Personality: I can get hard to know at first because I have trust issues (my heart has been broken okay) . Not too mention people don't try to get know me because of my major Resting Bitch Face. They think I am judging them or that I am scary. But I am not... I am attentive so I will stand up for myself and anyones else. I am patient. Also, after you get to know me you will realize I am a chaotic crackhead with a melodramatic persona. Like "your star is here!" "The stage is calling for me. Move out of my way" "the spotlight is on me so could you move you crusty face?" I like to tease and flirt with the people I am close to. I zone out or daydream a lot. And in the worst times. It could be a serious meeting and I am chuckling because of something in my head. Which have scared people. It could be during a conversation and I will stop listening. But I will always feel bad and apologize.

I also like to scare people. Like tell them the unsolved cases or horrific cases that I know (I love unsolved cases) . This is also why my little siblings hate me. Turns out talking kids murder cases and disapperinv cases was not appropriate for bed time story... woops.....

I like to pop out of nowhere and either flick or playfully punch my friends and say boo. I do accidentally roast people. I don't think before I say things. And don't realize until hours or days later. And I am like "shit"

I am sarcastic and that has gotten me in trouble before. My friend asked for my advice and I didn't know she was being serious. So I gave her a sarcastic advice and she came back to me mad. I was like "shit you believed me?"

Likes/hobbies: i like my anatomy class and I like to read, write, meditate (because I get stressed a lot). I really like to dance and listen to music. Which my music taste is everywhere: Kpop, classical music, jazz, jpop, Spanish songs, rock, metal. Every music genre except for country. I like to play the violin.

My passion lies in the arts and crafts. I would like to do illustration and photography. More specifically street fashion photography and and event photography. Like weddings and funerals. Yes funeral photography does exist and I will like to do it. Since it is also special event. I draw a lot of portraits and landscapes. I have been told that my art is either scary or mysterious. Though I can get a little caught up with my passion. I practice to get better with no rest.

Flaws/toxic traits: I am not empathetic or sympathetic. People always thought I didn't care about my friend's issues. I do i just don't understand them. My compassion does make up for this and will give advice. My other flaw, is the high walls I build to protect myself. I am there for other people. But people were never there for me. People have manupliated me and that cause me trust issues. I don't know how to handle negative emotions like depression, anxiety, self doubt, procrastination. So I just isolate myself in these moods. They really take a toll on me and make me think I can't do my passions. I am afraid of commitment because of toxic relationships i had before.

Love language: I am not obvious with affection. (Because no one ever gave me it). I show it through my teasing and flirting. My love language is however Act of Service. I will help my s/o with anything they need. Chores, work, advice, etc. Sort of the mom of my friend group. But a Savage mom as I have been told. "Stop crying, here I made you a cookie" "do I need to hurt someone" "don't worry I can get coffin with a lock in it". I am also an aggressive supporter. Like "No YOU are beautiful. YOU are gorgeous!" (This happened when someone gives me affection and time try to turn the attention to them as way to hide my fluster)

I will call my s/o like "stupid" "idiot" but in a endearing way. Okay. Occasionally I will use "beloved" and "Cariño/cariña"

I am not good receiving verbal affection or physical affection. I was never given affection so I am not used to it. I will start blushing and stop working. I will also probably say "idiot" or turn the attention to them like "no.. u" but I think fails because I am terrible at hiding my blush. I get easily flustered with affection okay. But I won't ever admit that I like it. Though it is obvious.

Sexuality: i am bisexual so it doesn't matter what gender I am paired up with.

Funt fact i guess?: I love small plants, plushies, and banana milk. Like I have hundreds of different kinds of plants and they each have their own name. Like GGmo, Lily, Melody, Edward. I love Banana milk as I said. I drink it every evening. It always get me happy so when I am sad or had a bad day. I drink banana milk and I am happy. It is also to make up for my coffee addiction. I am addicted to coffee. My friends said no coffee and I was like fine banana milk then :)

This is getting long now... bye.

I'm glad that you like my matchups, I'm trying my best tbh😅 I match you with:

Sebastian Michaelis

Sebastian is very curious in nature, so he definitely wants to know what you're really like, not the front you put on.

He's also very charming when he wants to, he makes it very easy to open up to him and get comfortable around him.

Sure, he, as a demon, doesn't really care much for humans, so when he doesn't have to play the polite, kind butler, he probably has a RBF as well, however, I think that changes when he's interacting with someone he loves.

His sweet words may have been a mask at first, so he could see the real you, but the closer you two become, the more he means every word of praise, encouragment or comfort he utters.

He would most certainly be amused by your crackhead self once you do get comfortable around him, but it's not really his vibe. He wouldn't scold you for being loud, brash or inapropriate, like he does the other servants.

If he's in a really good mood or when the situation calls for it, he can be dramatic as well. Sometimes he'd do it just to get on Ciel's nerves XD

One big pro of being with Sebastian is that he lets you off the hook a lot. If he was talking to anyone else and they'd space out, oh honey, he would stare them down so hard, it's sending chills down my spine just thinking about it. But if it's you it's like a complete 180, Sebastian can't possibly be mad at you, everyone spaces out sometimes, those things just happen.

The other servants make sure to be on your good side so that you could intercede with him on their behalf.

You can't scare him with your true crime stories, but you sure as hell can scare the others. And you can bet your ass Seb's gonna help! The plan is: You tell the story and then he's gonna pop up out of nowhere behind them, giving them mini heart attacks.

If you try to scare him though, you'll need to be on guard 24/7 until he gets you in return. And even if your on guard all the time, he finds a way to scare the life out of you.

Your humor is practically the same, I mean, Sebastian is great at off handed remarks/roasts and sarcastic comments that you have to look for to really see them. You two could be talking shit about anyone and everybody would be like "Oh yeah, normal conversation, yes"

Sebastian would love to dance with you. And trust me when I say this, he is good at any type of dance. If you two are ever at a ball, prepare your feet, because he's not gonna let go of you the whole night (unless his master is in danger of course).

He would be your #1 supporter, he'd go with you out to take photos, and if you asked him to look at some, he'd take a good long look at each and every one of them and describe in detail how he feels about them. Also would go to any art shows you'd host if it came to it.

When it comes to sympathy and empathy, Sebastian also has a hard time showing these feelings. He's been alive for far longer than any human on Earth and he's a demon. He's never had any of the problems humans have, so naturally he doesn't kniw what it feels like to have them. Plus, before you came into his life, he didn't care much for them either.

However, he's gonna be there for you whenever you need him, emotionally or practically, even though he doesn't get your feelings.

You both have walls put up, you because of bad past experiences, him because as a demon, he has major issues with being vulnerable in any way. And I'm not talking just emotionally here, but demons are almost undestroyable, yet they have very few weaknesses that they just need to hide away.

It's rare Sebastian has a problem, but even if he had, you wouldn't know, because he thinks you, as a human, wouldn't understand and so he won't burden your mind with it. However, he's very perceptive and so if your behaviour changes, be it due to anxiety or a depressive episode, he'll know.

Now, he's not the type of person to try and break down your walls by force, but in situstions like these, where he's not sure how to help, you gotta talk to him and he won't leave you alone until you tell him how he can help.

He's not above carrying you around and doing everything for you until you're embarassed enough to tell him

He is very appreciative of your help around, since the other servants are good at everything but what they're supposed to do.

You with your tough love and Sebastian with his teeth rotting compliments and affection, it'd be honestly really funny to watch. He adores how you show affection, because it's different from most people he's known. But on the other hand, you can't expect him not to spoil you afte all the hard work you do every day?

He would really shower you in love and affection, because you deserve it and because it makes you flustered XD

[emsvegetables]

“Can I please request an emergency request? I've been having bad nightmares for the past week or so, and they've been making me dread going to sleep, so can I request Yaku, suga, and mattsun (separately) comforting an s/o who woke up crying from a nightmare? Thank you :)”

hi anon! i hope you’re okay with this <3!!! and i hope you feel better :)

Yaku:

* he startles and snaps open his eyes when he hears you crying.

* then he instantly pulls you into his arms, rubbing your back comfortingly and telling you to let it all out if you need to.

* he lets you hug him for a while, and he makes sure he doesn’t fall asleep bc he wants to be there for you!!!!!

* after a while, you quieten, and he leans down to press a kiss on your lips.

* “feeling better?”

* when you nod your head shakily, he grins and pulls you even closer to him.

* “let’s go to sleep, then.”

Sugawara:

* he jolts and sits up immediately when he hears your sobs.

* he’s instantly worried and is asking you,” hey, sweetie, you alright?”

* he jumps out of bed to go make you some warm tea, and when he returns, he makes you sit up to take a sip and then he’s wrapping his arms around you.

* Sugawara loves to braid your hair, and he’ll let you lean against his chest while the both of you are sitting upright and he’ll braid your hair, whilst telling you that you’re okay.

* when you fall asleep (BC BRAIDING HAIR IS VERY COMFORTING), he’ll smile and rest you softly onto the pillow, before leaning down to peck a soft kiss on your cheek.

* he then curls up against you and falls asleep too :)

Matsukawa:

* he sleeps like a log.

* aka very hard to wake up.

* but when your cries makes his eyes snap open, he’s instantly reaching for you and asking you what’s wrong.

* he’ll brush the tears off your cheek and press a gentle kiss on your forehead, and asking you if you want to talk about it.

* he listens to you patiently, whilst his fingers draw lazy circles onto your thigh (bc that’s comforting and vv soft of him).

* he’ll run his fingers through your hair as he pulls you close to him, and slows down his breathing to allow you to calm down as well bc you’re breathing unconsciously matches with his!

* he makes sure not to fall asleep until you do, and when you do, he’s pulling you close to him, and falling asleep beside you.

hi anon this was a little short but i tried my best to write it as quickly as possible!!!!

[despairingly-hopeful-imagines]

hi hello!! i would like a matchup pretty please 👉👈 I have mid-length shaggy brown hair (I cut it myself) I have green eyes with an orange patch in my left one, I'm 5'8 l, I dress in comfortable oversized streetwear

im a bi female, ENFP, my main hobbies include drawing, reading stories, philosophizing if that counts as a hobby, hanging out and talking to my friends, i'm generally carefree and free spirited, I love nature, I basically want to live my life just chilling, and stargazing, I secretly love affection but I'm scared to admit it, I'm both a giver/receiver, I'd like an S/O who is pretty free spirited/chill

I'd like a match from SDR2 or/and DRV3, thank you, I hope this wasnt too long 💖🍃

Wow! My first actual writing post on this blog in a while! Here's your matchup nonnie! Hope you enjoy!

-Mod Kiibo

Your Danganronpa 2 match is...

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Nagito Komaeda!

Absolutely adores your green eyes, especially the one with the orange patch!

Since you're shorter than him expect forehead smooches from time to time whenever he feels confident enough to give you affection

Sometimes he will even hug you from behind and just rest his head on yours!

Nagito is pretty laid back in general despite the chaos he sometimes causes but he would learn to stop if you wanted him to

He's a smart boy so he would like to talk about philosophies with you! Anything you think of he can converse with!

Just expect some speeches of hope to be thrown in there

Picnic dates happen often but due to his luck sometimes bad things can happen during them but that makes for an adventure!

His favorite thing to do is to sit at the beach with you, cuddling and stargazing

Nagito is very gentle with you and picks up on when you like what he does

However if you returned the same affection towards him he'd be a crying mess

How lucky he was to have a partner like you ♡

Your Danganronpa 3 match is....

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Rantaro Amami!

He loves to play with your hair

Whenever he's stressed and its just the two of you he'll start putting tiny braids into it

You want over sized streetwear? Rantaro has it and is more than wiling to share!

Definitely gives more than receives

So that affection you love? You will get it in tenfold with this man

Loves to spoil you

Also loves to go outside with you and just chill in nature or stargaze!

Rantaro’s the type of boyfriend who would want lazy days as he is one of the more chill characters in the series

Side headcanon but he gives you heavenly massages whenever you need or want them

Rantaro likes to just cuddle on the couch and either read to you or with you, its very comforting to him

Overall an 100/10 boyfriend

[disaster-bay-leaf]

Ok so these were the cutest~ (ㆁωㆁ)

4, 6, 7, 9, 12, 19, 22, 23, 28, 33, 34, 46, 47, 52, 59, 60, 63, 66, 83, 87, 88, 93, 99

I kno I listed like....all of them lmao but feel free to answer whichever you want and ofc you can ask me in return Baybe ( ◜‿◝ )♡

uHUHUHUHU much content for me to answer, im happy bebe 💜💜💜✨

4 - how do you take your coffee/tea?

hm coffee either Very Black No Sugar (for the sleep deprived me) or iced latte three sugars and theres no in between

and as for tea its All Black Teas That Exist, cinnamon-flavoured especially (but basically all teas that come to mind when u think “autumn”), and rooibos!!! okay basically the only oke i dont like is any type of green tea (which is sad because they look cool but my tastebuds said ✨no✨)

6 - do you keep plants?

honestly id l o v e too because i love plants but,,, im kinda horrible at taking care of them though still way better than the majority of my family (research helps) so the only plant i own is kinda a small-palm-tree-looking thing in a bigass glass jar that i saved from my mother’s plant-destructing hands and its mostly doing well (the ends of its leaves are starting to be yellow tho and im worried:((( )

7 - do you name your plants?

yes!!! though the current one was named by my sister and its called “pickett” after fantastic beasts shsjjsj

9 - do you like singing/humming to yourself?

oh god oh dude you have n o idea

i have absolutely n o singing voice but its something i do constantly to give my brain the right amount of stimuli so basically i listen to music 24/7 and hum to myself 99% of that time

12 - whats your favourite planet?

oh i actually didnt think about this for so long but either pluto (hes a planet screw nasa) or saturn (RINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) or venus (girls,,,and libra,,,)

19 - do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw in it?

okay im gonna be completely honest with yall and say that my every single try at keeping a journal failed spectacularly and i lost motivation after like a few months so my only journals rn are my fancy fake-leather-bound calendar to note tests and assessments into, a kinda roughed up notebook that i uses for noting down poems or scribbling or passing notes in class, and a kinda fancy bullet journal notebook that i used as a book of shadows for a while but since my fountain pen died i didnt touch it

22 - are you a morning person?

n o

i am so not a morning person but i wish i could be because honestly dawns are beautiful

but as it is rn im either sleep deprived all the time and loathe every second of being in an awake state or (if i have a few days of schoolbreak) my biological clock moves forward a few hours and i sleep 2am-10am

23 - whats your favourite thing to do on lazy days with zero obligations?

except for the fact that i dont remember the last time it happened, i would probably spend it drawing outside, watching anime with my sister and riding a bike around the forest

28 - sunrise or sunset?

i love sunrises because its so peaceful and everyone is asleep but also i subconsciously immediately correlate them with waiting for a train to take me to school (because thats basically the only time i see them) so its a bittersweet love especially with my fucked up biological clock

but sunsets are really really pretty too and i see them more often so i cant choose

33 - whats your fave pastry?

and isnt that a millior-dollar question dhsjjsjsj

either cinnamon rolls (i absolutely adore them) or that one specific type of cupcake-shaped-thing made out of shortcrust/bread/whatever its called and filled with vanilla pudding

34 - tell us about a stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

awwww this is cute

okay so basically my two favourite stuffed animals (i still have them, they sit in my wardrobe) were two teddy bears (like maybe 20cm high each of them) and one was pure brown and the other was silver-brown and they had stereotypical polish male names “Waldek” (read. Valdek) and Stefan (i think tho im not sure if i remember correctly, my memory is a feeble thing sometimes

46 - tell us the worst pun you can think of

what dog would never bite you? a hot dog *badumtss*

47 - what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

huh a year ago id say pineapple pizza but i guess i dont hate pineapples that much anymore (tho putting them on pizza is still an abomination) but i think that if id ever want to get rid of anything it would be parsley, i hate that freakin herb (does it count as food tho)

52 - what are your favourite memes of the year so far?

the ever given for sure shsjshjsjsjsjjsj

but bullying tramp stamps is gold and pure tumblr energy too

as for fandom memes: im in love with all keeping-up-with-the-todorokis variations and the fact that the entire bsd fandom looked at fukuchi and said “biTCH” and thats one of the only things we’re unanimous about

59 - whats your favourite myth?

i always liked the kora/persephone myth (though demeter is an overbearing parent to the nth power), loki and thor crossdressing at a party to get mjolnir back, atalanta because shes a queen and id politely ask her to kick my ass, and cassandra because she deserved better, and theres a l o t more because alas i was a mythology nerd but this post is long enough for me not to make this section 20 times longer sjjsjsjsjsjks

but there are a lot of slavic myths that are very cool too, though we dont know that much about them as about the greeks for example

60 - do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

o o o o h yeah i do like poetry because to create such a beautifully sounding thing with only words someone has to be a genius

some of my favs are: some works of nakahara chuuya (thank u bsd for introducing me to this man’s beautiful imagery in his works i swear to god the descriptions do it for me) (also his poem about having hangovers is a mood like i feel you buddy), the raven by ea poe (i know everyone likes it but hOLY DAMN THE INTER/INTRAVERSE RHYMES ARE LIKE,,, BREATHTAKING) (and aso im a slut for gothic horror), and many more but also That One Poem From Welcome To Nightvale about reaching the island in the west,,, only perfect vibes from it

63 - are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organised or kinda leave them be?

okay heres the thing. for anyone else both my playlist library and my bookshelf would be considered pure chaos of a mad man b u t they actually have a highly focused system which means that i sort them based on their vibes, lovability and (in case of books) their age and whether or not theyre a part of a series so i would say my bookshelf is rather organised (when a quarter of it isnt occupying my desk that is) and my music is more organised than not but sometimes it gets out of control and i have to sort it entirely again

66 - what would your ideal flower crown look like?

either entirely constructed of simple white daisies, entirely constructed of only white roses, or something that probably would win a “how many different coloured flowers can one fit in a flower crown” competition

or something purple (maybe not belladonna)

83 - whats some of your favourite album art?

god i dont know if it counts but hozier’s wasteland baby is probably one of my absolute favourites and no one shall beat that

“thrifted youth” (dalynn) and “standard deviation” (danny schmidt) have very aesthetic covers too

also the iconic p!atd too weird to live, too rare to die! album cover,,, its just iconic what can i say

and last but not least matt meason’s pink-and-black album covers (though bank on the funeral is really pretty too but like,,, “who killed matt meason” d o e s it for me and so does the 2017 tribulation single)

87 - what are some movies that you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

this is such a hard question because im not a really cinematography-oriented gal but i suppose that (at the risk of not going deep enough into the cinema world):

- the princess bride

- inception

- night at the museum

- SPIRITED AWAY

- forrest gump

- truman show

- E.T. (i cried okay)

- the lord of the rings (because damn me if this isnt one impressive adaptation)

- parasite

and one more personal recommendation: “ready or not” with samara weaving because goddamn i dont usually watch this genre but holy s h i t is it good

93 - whats the hairstyle you wear the most?

honestly just plain hair down (because having curly hair is a menace), split in the middle when i have longer hair and split on one side when its short

also low ponytails or half-up-half-down when im exercising, or double french braids when my hair doesnt cooperate enough to look presentable in any other form

99 - list some songs that resonate with your soul whenever you hear them

this is difficult because my music taste is a goddamn rollercoaster on a good day, but heres some:

- me and the sky from “come from away” musical (this is sort of a test song for my mental stability, if i cry i aint stable)

- dancing after death by matt meason (okay most songs by matt meason except for like,,, hallucinogenics maybe)

- tears and rain by james blunt

- i will follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie

- almost home by mxmtoon

- anything by hozier really but shrike especially

- payphone, the cover by alex g (i cried to this song so many times)

- burning pile by mother mother (can i roast all my problems please)

- long way from home and cleopatra by the lumineers

- autoclave by the mountain goats

oooh that was c o o o o o o o l as fuck thank you sm so much bebe (and sorry for the long post @everyone else)

[a-lonely-tatertot]

Masterlist & About Me

Hello people who decided to check out this hectic blog 

I have a sideblog: @utheria-antics (for my ocs)

My kotlc insta, wattpad, and ao3 all have the same url (insta just doesn’t have the dashes)

Also I have a twitch!!

all of my fics have cursing and so do most of my posts fyi

DRAWING REQUESTS OPEN

About me :D

Call me Tater I am mostly a kotlc fan but sometimes reblog stuff from other fandoms

I ramble, a LOT please give me validation

I love talking about my ocs, if your interested in them check out my sideblog and I will always answer asks about them either there or on here

Come talk to me bitches Im lonely (we dont have to be moots)

If we mutuals you can ask for my discord, snap, or email for hangouts

I also love talking about my fics and art if you ever want me to go more into depth or explain any of those

I try to stay out of discourse

Give me music recs, fic recs, show (animated or live action) recs, or graphic novel recs pl e a se

If you’ve got questions about anything please ask 

ocs are tagged with tater’s ocs or Utheria

my writing is tater writes

art is i drew a thing

Masterlist under the cut!

Fics if you’re too lazy to look em up:

The Fire in Your Eyes and The Screams in Your Throat (marellinh, 1.4k, first person, panic attack/loses control of powers): ao3

“Did I Ever Tell You How Beautiful Your Eyes Are?” (Detz, 2.3k, third person, underage drinking): ao3

Girl in Red But Make it Sophiana (sophiana, 1.1k, third person, drinking, cigarettes why do i have so many questionable things in these): ao3

let me fall you cant save me now (keefex, 2.4k, third person, attempted suicide, happy ending i swear-): ao3

Your Soul On Walls (titz, 4.2k, third person, mentions of transphobia, incomplete ill finish it at some point): ao3

Cuddles (Kam, 500, third person, THE ONLY NON-QUESTIONABLE FIC): tumblr

Kiss me like it’s not allowed (keefitz, 3.1k, underage drinking, homophobia): tumblr ao3

numbers and i dont knows (titz, 1807, two swear words and one mention of alcohol): tumblr

The Nightmares Haven’t Left (titz, 1589, panic attacks, anxiety, mentions of burns, scars, injuries, and blood): tumblr

Finding Home (multiship, currently 27k, tw: talk of nightmares,mention of injuries and some phantom pains): wattpad, ao3, tumblr: 1, 2, 3 (photo update), 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Just Keep Holding Me, Cause This Entire Time You’ve Been My Life Line (Kam, 1715, tw: none): tumblr, ao3

Most of them on wattpad

Some headcanons cause i got those too

Artist!Keefe

Fitz’s Bakery 

Keefe + Touch

Character asks (1, katara, dex)

Titz hc (hair, confession)

Sophie (1, 2)

Fitz & Sophie Sleep

Corrupting the Vackers

Drawings cause why not

Marellinh (Marellinh Dancing)

Biana kelpie tattoo Stina kraken tattoo Wylie wyvern tattoo

Old Habits Die Hard (atla)

Tam braided hair

Biana  (Biana in a suit)

Tattoos (1,2,3)

Linh Drowning

Hello My Old Heart

Short Hair Linh

Fitz’s Bakery 

“Guess who just go injured”

Titz Cuddles

Keefex Request

Spiderverse au

Horned Sophie

Sophiana Angst for Secret Santa

Bronte Request

Kotlc Doodles

Insta Atla Request (1, 2, 3)

Hekster Sketches

Biana Animation

Sophiana Painting

Punk Keefitz

The Dame of Death

None Fandom Stuff

OC ART

Magic System: 1, 2

Confused Harper

OC doodles

Headshots

The Five

MISC. ART

Anon OC request

The Illusion of Music

Sydney the Ozzydoodle

WRITING 

My Infinity

Her

My Word

A Feeble Apology

Pictures

Love

Falling

This Coin

Holes

This Empty House

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Three, “The One Where It Happens”

*Gifs not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 12.3k words

Warnings: Sensitive topics

Music Inspo: Lay Down Beside You by Carl Storm (click to listen, this song is too perfect for this chapter)

                                         SNEAKYYYYY PEEK

I worry. I fear. I cry. I doubt. I struggle for breath. I grieve. I sob. I ache. Because I love. No, not loved. I love.

Love is what makes me want to go back to her, and cover her broken body with kisses. Love is what scares the living shit out of me, preventing me from doing that in this very second, because I’m afraid that I’ll break her all the more. Love is what sends the words tumbling off of my aching lips.

“‘m alright if yer alright, Becks . . . B-But ‘m not alright.”

Life has many ways of testing a person’s will - either by having nothing happen at all, or by having everything happen at once.

- Paulo Coelho 

+

Today had seemed like a dream, and I was unsure of when I’d get used to that, or when I’d get used to all of this. If I never did, I’d be okay with that, because she just keeps amazing me with every step I take. I never want this dream to end, if it is one after all.  

Speak of an angel, and there she is, I think. The thought races to the front of my mind, pushing all of the others aside. She’s always managed to be very good at doing that, I recall. 

“I’m gonna get going then,” she announces, clasping her milky 

white hands together in front of her after walking back into my office. 

A sad smile finds its way to my lips as I admire her, wishing I could spend the rest of my days memorizing every detail of her. The little tan birthmark beneath her eye that she doesn’t cover up anymore, much to my happy findings. The sparkle in her eyes, the left one scattered with more indigo flecks. The always waves in her dark chocolate hair. Her braided silver ring that I’ve never seen her without, always playing with it mindlessly. 

“Harry?” she hums. I blink, focusing my eyes back on her. 

Becks. My lovely Becks. Maybe even . . my girlfriend? Impossible although it had seemed, my lips reach higher elevations on my cheeks at the thought. I don’t let it run away from me, although I’m itching to let the question leave my lips. 

There’s always tomorrow for that, I decide silently as I adore the invisible inquisition toying with her eyebrows. 

“Alright?” Becks asks, taking another step forward until she arrives at my desk. 

“Ya, ‘m great,” I confess softly, pushing at the lip of my desk to get to my feet. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she ponders nervously, a fire sparking in her cheeks as I near her figure dressed in a sleek black pantsuit. A cream chiffon blouse falls under the hollow of her neck modestly, adorned by the opal necklace I haven’t seen her take off since our first date. Yet another confirmation that that night was real, and so is all of this. My bloody God, I wonder when I’ll ever be able to believe it. 

“I dunno,” I giggle, my hands finding their way into the conversation with a shrug of their own. “Jus’ so happy lookin’ at you . . You make me happy, Becks . . Very.”

The dimple finds its place in her left cheek again, and I know then that I’m fucked all the more. A similar sound flows from her lips, and I wish it didn’t have to come to an end as my palm slips into hers. 

“You make me happy too, Harry, so happy,” she titters, peeking up at me with those goddamn blue eyes. The very blues that could send me whizzing off into another oblivion, and I’d feel honored for it. I’m given just enough time to catch the glint in her eye, wetness sitting there in the corner before she looks away again. “Today made me so happy.”

“Me too, bug. I can hardly believe I get t’ do this e’ry day . . with you,” I snicker happily, tugging on her hand until my arms are surrounding her shoulders. 

“Neither can I,” she concurs, the words tickling the skin peeking out from my hardly buttoned shirt. A second of wetness tickles the skin there when my hand comes to cup the back of her head, pressing a kiss below my thumb a moment later. 

“Call me when ya get home, will you? We should FaceTime and watch anotha episode, if yer not gettin’ too sick o’ me yet.”

“Never,” she sighs, nudging my chin towards the sky when she lifts her head. It falls now, to find her moist blue eyes searching for me. It plummets further until my lips catch the hint of a tear at the corner of her eye, kissing it away. “I could never get sick of you.”

“‘s gonna be quite a long time befo’ I get sick o’ you, bug,” I murmur against her cheek, the traces of orange blossoms marking her skin. I can almost taste it on my lips when I leave a kiss there. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says, yanking my eyes to her grinning lips that I envelop with my own. A ‘good’ brushes against her pair between moments of adoring her top lip between mine. The tip of her nose leaves lazy circles drawn on my skin while I sketch my own onto her creamy skin. The moment couldn’t last long enough. I wish I could freeze it in time and enjoy it for longer before my lungs begin to burn for air. 

“Drive safe,” I whisper against her mouth, saying goodbyes into her hair with the motions of my thumb. 

“I will, don’t worry. I’ll call you when I get home, it shouldn’t take me even fifteen minutes to get there.”

“‘Kay, ‘ll talk t’ you soon then,” I smile, touching my lips to her button nose. “Boops.” 

“Now, don’t stay here too long, boss. You’re going to turn into a workaholic or something, Harry,” Becks taunts with her flushed lips drawing me in. 

“‘ll try not t’, that’s all I can promise.”

A laugh joins her answering nod before she surprises me with one last kiss, making me want to take back all of the words I just said, and spend a few more moments kissing her. Minutes, maybe. 

“Night, Harry.”

“G’night, Becks. ‘ll talk t’ ya later . . my love,” I divulge, enjoying the pink that rises in her cheeks at the mention of the simple words. Simple, yet oh so true. 

“Bye, my Harry,” she echoes, squeezing my hand one last time on her way out the door. Her azul blue eyes meet mine over her shoulder when she pulls my door closed, decadent lips curled into a smile just for me. Lips that I already want to have touching my own again, dark chocolate waves I want to be losing my hands in, and that laugh I want to be pulling from her lips. 

It’s never long enough with her, but I get to do today all over again with her tomorrow. The day after that, and after that. Stolen kisses in the copier room, her head on my shoulder while watching FRIENDS at my desk, those pretty fingers dancing along my tense shoulders, and a closeness between us that I’ve longed to have for so long. Too long. 

A closeness with her that I never want to lose.

+

The very last unanswered email is whisked away with a whoosh. Finally, I have that done. With it, it drags my eyes to my wrist that vibrates with an alert. A premature smile graces my lips until it falls at the sight of a different name, not the one I was expecting. 

“What’s takin’ her so long?” I mutter as my eyes flit over Myles’ text, some joke about firing me if I keep staying past five o’clock. 

“Bastard,” I sigh with a shake of my head, pressing my palm to the screen as the time repeats in my head. 

5:26 passes. 

Then, 5:36 passes too as I wait for her to reply to my texts, or to call.

Reckon she should’ve been home by now, having left at 5, I wonder silently, aware of the thrumming of my heart. I’m sure she’s just making something to eat. 

Yeah, Harry, that’s it. 

Why am I worrying so much? 5 o’clock traffic is a bitch, anyways. It’s what made me late to our date the other night, so I should know. 

“She’ll call soon,” I mumble aloud, crafting a quick text to her, adding to the others I’ve already sent her tonight.

i think today may have been my favourite w/ u so far ;) xo

hurry up slowpoke

rebecca ann ur slow. im kiddin. drive safe bug xo

Sighing, I turn back to my iMac where I already have the next episode of FRIENDS queued up, waiting for her. 

A new bloop! sounds when an email arrives in my inbox. Clicking on it, I begin to absorb the words until my office phone interrupts with a loud bringggggg! 

“This ‘s Harry,” I say automatically, and am answered with an eerie silence. A darkness trickles into my chest at the little sounds accompanying it. The pangs of worry return, demanding to be felt amongst the mix of it all. “Hullo?” 

“H-Harry, this is Skye,” a shaky voice replies at last. 

“Hi, what’re you doin’ callin’ me main line?” I joke, hoping to add a lightness to the atmosphere that so direly requires one. The fear threatening at my edges gains strength when I make out the likeness of it in her voice. “If yer lookin’ fer Becks she left half an hour ago, reckon she’s home by now.”

“No, s-she’s not,” she says. I hear it, and I immediately wish that I hadn’t. Denying it with a shake of my head, it doesn’t disappear that easily, the crack in her voice. “She . . d-didn’t make it home, Harry.”

“What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout, Skye? I jus’ saw her half an hour ago,” I contend, rushing through my words as my back straightens to full attention. 

“I know . . I just talked to her on the phone f-fifteen minutes ago, but Harry . . ,” Skye continues, words wandering away from her. They’re kidnapped by the tears that I finally acknowledge in her voice, and now echoing on the line. “S-She was in . . an accident.”

“What . . What kinda accident? ‘s she alright? W-Who told you this? That can’t be right, I jus’ saw her,” I argue, losing my footing quite immediately. 

Rising to my feet, the words are too close for comfort and my knees threaten to give out on me. A hand races to my hair, carding heavy strokes through it that tug hairs loose, but I disregard the pain. Another form of it demands to be felt inside of me, next to my heart that climbs in speed with every moment absent of words. An absence of Becks being okay. 

“I don’t want it to be real either, Harry, b-but an officer just rang me. H-He said a car ran a light and h-hit her . . not long after I got off the phone with her. It was right behind the driver’s side and . . it doesn’t look very good,” she reveals, sobs growing thicker in her voice. My feet run rampant circles around my office as my fingers tug violently at my hair. 

“This ‘sn’t funny, Skye, if yer pullin’ me leg,” I begin with a forced amusement, but it doesn’t make it very far. I don’t make it that far until I fall onto the sofa, my words crashing into loud sobs that steal my breath away. “I jus’ got her back . . I can’t lose her ‘gain,” the confession comes, drenched in tears that shake my body. 

“I know,” she agrees with echoing devastation as tears paint the inside of my palm clung to my face. “She’s been my best friend for t-twenty-one years, Harry. I-I can’t imagine my life without her, and I know she’d never want to imagine a life without you.”

My head shakes rapidly from side to side as the tepid wetness paints stripes down my cheeks, escaping from my eyes that I press shut painfully. Whimpers flee from my lips, the very ones that were just kissing hers thirty minutes prior. 

This can’t be happening. No, I can’t lose my Becks when she just found her way back to me. 

“No, no . . no, no,” I sob, each utterance becoming more indiscernible with the emotions consuming them. “Not my Becks,” I mutter, air escaping my lungs with such force that leaves me dizzy in the head. 

“She’ll be okay, she’s strong, Harry. She’s made it through so much other shit. N-Not this sort, but . . . she broke her leg riding bike one time when we were eight, and she was fine. S-She cut her finger cooking once and drove herself to hospital all herself,” Skye reveals, the trembling words doing nothing to calm my heart that I’m afraid may bound from my chest at a moment’s notice. 

“Strongest person I know,” I concur, a hiccup rattling my voice that fights for composure. “W-What’d they tell you . . ‘bout Becks?”

“They’re taking her to uh, King’s Cross hospital. Reckon there’ll be a waiting room I can meet you at while s-she’s in . . surgery,” Skye explains, and my head rushes up and down with nods now. I shakily get to my feet and take a step towards my door, but once again, I don’t make it far. A wooziness falls over me, and I grab the arm of the sofa just in time to recover. “They said they stabilized her and she was breathing and everything, b-but surgery was in order. Car was totaled, though. That’s not good . . No, that’s not good,” she cries, words falling harder and harder the more she goes on. With every one that she speaks, my sobs thicken and louden against the confines of my palm. 

“Don’t say that . . D-Don’t, she’s gonna be okay. She has t’ be,” I defend, wishing more with every second that I believed my own words. If the words themselves could wish it into existence, I’d speak them over and over until it came true. 

“I’m sorry,” she confesses breathlessly. “I’ll uh, meet you there. C-Call me when you get there. It’s the . . hospital on the west side of town, not too far from you, I reckon. She’s probably . . already there,” Skye finishes before the dial tone drills into my ears, and I’m left listening to my unsteady breaths. 

The phone plummets from my hand to meet the floor with a crrrrrunching sound, but I don’t even care. There’s so little I care about in this moment, because my thoughts are consumed by her. They’re racing, demanding, and making me sick. My chest trembles with another intense sob as my palms press against my eyes. Strands of my hair are taut around my fingertips, my scalp searing with pain. 

She’s become all I’ve cared about in these last few weeks, and it’s been magnified within moments now.

“No,” I cry, salt water dripping over my lips and plummeting from my chin. “Becks, no.”

Sniffling, it’s suddenly impossible to ignore the rock sitting in my gut. Jumping to my feet, my hands fall as I cross the room and fall to my knees harshly. The cold, granite tiles dig into my boney limbs as I retch into the bin. Grouting in the tiles leaves marks on my skin when I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth moments later. 

Sweat beads on my forehead as the room spins around me. Tears press harshly at the back of my eyes when I envision her standing in front of me, kissing me goodbye just moments ago, it seemed. Shakes overwhelm my body within seconds, and my knees kiss the tiles once more. The coolness is welcomed by my flushed forehead as I curl into myself, her smiling face captivating every thought I have while my body convulses with a new sob. It takes the last ounces of strength I can find to pull myself up to a kneeling position, then to plant one foot against the floor, and another until I’m standing. 

“‘m comin’, Becks,” I mumble, voice breaking from the first word. Wiping under my eyes, I rip open the door. Feet pounding down the hallway, I sniffle as another warm stripe cascades down my cheeks. A second and third accompany it when I pass her office, and I yank my eyes away, knowing that I can’t look. I’ll collapse to the floor again if I see her name sitting there on the door, waiting for her to return tomorrow morning. 

Patting my pockets hastily, I yank my ring of keys from the fabric only to drop them. Cursing, I bend down to pick them up before rounding the corner. I’m almost knocked off my feet by Myles who skids to a halt. Unbeknownst to me, I didn’t think I could be hurting more until I found the look that dawns on his face. 

“Hare, what’s wrong?” he demands, grabbing my bicep. 

A sob revokes my words and a hand flies to my mouth. Eyebrows falling, tears interrupt my voice as the explanation plays on a loop between my ears. 

“Becks, s-she . . ,” I try to say, but a shake of my head places a gap in between my words. “Was inn’a accident. I have t’ go t’ her . . tha hospital. I wanna be there when she wakes up, and-,” now, I cut myself off abruptly. Tears blur my vision, and soon I’m seeing stripes. A feeling surrounds me, and I find that it’s his arms crushing me in a hug. His name drops from my lips in a choked sob. 

“You’re not driving anywhere like this. I’ll take ya, Hare,” he murmurs into my ear, out of place back rubbing following his words. “I’m so bloody sorry, mate. Fuck, I just saw her when she left.”

“So did I. H-How can it be real? I just . . . I jus’ got her back, My’. She jus’ came back t’ me and we jus’ started datin’ finally . . I can’t fookin’ lose her all over ‘gain, not fer real this time . . I don’t think I could live inn’a world that she’s not in, Myles,” I confess into his shoulder, clutching onto him. My chest expands and falls against his, convulsing with every worst case scenario that sends tears flying from my eyes. 

“It’ll be okay.”

“Don’t fookin’ say that, ‘coz what if it ‘s not? What if she’s not okay? What if she . . d-dies, My’? I can’t-,” the words run away from me, and for once, I’m thankful for it. They’re drenched by too much reality, more than I can stomach.

I don’t remember following him down to the parking garage, or getting into the car. The next thing I know, my head is tipped against the frosty glass window in his BMW, the lights of London cloudy from behind my eyes. 

“I jus’ bloody saw her, and I kissed her and hugged her,” I whisper, watching the words fog up the glass, if only for mere seconds. A warm tear dives from my chin, crashing onto the v of my chest. 

‘I knows’ answer me back, as well as squeezes to my arms when I least expect them. It all runs into a blur - the traffic, snow fluttering against the windows, and the pounds of tears I shed into the air. Most of all, the thoughts running rampant within me hardly make much sense by the time we’ve parked. The one thing that’s clear as day is how my heart swells with bittersweetness when her face swims inside of my skull, and the love that pours out from it for her. 

I already know that I love her, and it only makes me hurt a million times worse. 

“She’ll likely be in surgery for a good while, it’s a rather long affair, Hare,” Myles announces as the automatic sliding doors open for us, greeting us with a burst of hot air. 

“I know . . Skye said she’s in tha waitin’ room erm, on tha second floor,” I respond, reading from my phone. My eyes fill with more tears as I swipe a finger under the both of them, sniffling. 

“Here, I see a lift.”

Relief ironically escapes me when we finally find Skye bouncing her legs up and down in a chair, arms wrapped around herself as she stares at the floor. It takes her a moment to look up after saying her name, but with her disarray of colorful hair, I reckon she’s the best person I can relate to on this entire floor. 

“Hey,” I whisper when I embrace her, surprising myself at the same time. A shy ‘hi’ fills my ears as her thin frame greets mine. Her shaking arms squeeze me around the middle, and I linger there for a few seconds than necessary before pulling away. “Has anybody came t’ talk t’ you?”

“No, not yet. I just checked in with somebody when I came in, and they said to come up here. S-So, I did, and the nurse’s desk told me somebody would come when they have news. Whenever that is,” she sighs, flicking a thumb below her eye to catch a tear that strays from her waterline. 

“D-Did ya call Robbie and her dad?” 

“Yeah, just now. Robbie should be here soon, and Chuck was just about to leave . . I figure he won’t get here until she’s out of surgery, even though we don’t know how bloody long that’ll take. But, he’ll be here i-in a few hours,” she answers, her voice catching on the last of her words. 

“I’m gonna go and find us something to drink,” Myles interrupts, nodding his head down the hallway. I mirror his actions, grateful for the offer as I clear my scratchy throat. It dried up the second those very words rocked me to the core. 

Silence ensues as I fall onto the lumpy sofa beside her, a telly across the room murmuring softly in the background. Magazines lie open in front of us on the wooden table, chairs and more chairs surrounding us. 

“I wish somebody would just tell us something,” she groans beside me, wringing her hands in her lap. A sob stills in her throat and I watch her face collapse along with it. 

“I can go and ask, ‘m antsy too. Only been here a minute and already I am,” I suggest with a tough swallow. The lump in my throat greets me again as she shakes her head ‘no.’ 

Folding my hands together, they come to sit against my mouth as I now bounce my knee. Eyes flitting in every direction, I will a nurse or doctor littering the halls to wander over to us with their bloody clipboard and lab coat. 

“Find anythin’ else out tho’?” I pipe up, dropping a hand and letting it squeeze hers. I’ve only met this woman a handful of times, and yet, I know that she’s the closest thing I’ve got to a friend here. She’s the only other person who could understand how I’m feeling right now, because she’s the only other person in this damn hospital who loves Becky too. At the same time, my actions are unprecedented and alien to me, this entire situation is. 

Tears arrive in my eyes as I wait for her voice to make a choppy return, “Just when I got here and checked in, s-so to speak, that she was in surgery. They didn’t say what for really, I suppose only the team working on- with her knows,” she explains, and now, I’m the one nodding. A long breath spills from my lips, and it does next to nothing to calm the thrashing of my heart, and the onslaught of my mind. 

The reality of the situation brings my head into my palms again where I spill silent tears, accentuated by the whimpers of my lips. My entire body shakes with every sob, every sob that yearns for my arms to return to her. My eyes to see hers again, those baby blues that now, I can’t stop imagining my babies having one day. That painful thought makes them come harder now while I struggle for air, lungs burning for other reasons now, like nonexistent children that I very well may never have with her now.

Fuck. 

I wish more than anything that I could be back in my office an hour ago, annoying her with kisses as she finished up an email. What I’d do to have my lungs burning in need of the air filling hers, and not for the air around me that may not even hold her life anymore. 

No, I can’t think like that. If I entertain that thought for a millisecond, there’s no going back. 

“You know, you’re her whole world and always have been. She couldn’t shut up about you lately, a-and all of your dates. When I spoke to her on the phone r-right before . . . she was saying how amazing of a day she had had . . with you. She couldn’t wait to do it all over again, she’s so mad about you, Harry. S-She even wrote you this letter once saying how she-,” Skye divulges, the words filling my ears. Instantaneously, they want nothing more than to spit them back out. 

“Don’t! Don’t say all o’ that. D-Don’t say it in past tense, or like she’s not . . g-gonna be able t’ tell me all ‘bout it. We can’t act that way . . She’s gonna be okay, she’s gotta be okay,” I insist into my hands, struggling for breaths. Lifting my head, I turn it away from her and towards the window, my lips squashed into a line. Briny tears drip over them as I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, hiccups finding their way into the air. 

“I’m sorry, I-.”

“I c-can’t talk ‘bout her like she’s- like that. I can’t t-think ‘bout her like that . . her not bein’ here anymo’,” I exclaim, shooting to my feet in order to change directions. 

I thought I couldn’t believe my life earlier today and the direction it’d taken, and now, I can’t believe it one bit. I don’t want to, and I wish I didn’t have to. I thought that I was living a dream today, and now, I know that I’m living a nightmare. I didn’t want to wake up earlier, but I need to now, more than anything. 

I want to open my eyes and find her curled against my chest, snoring peacefully with her body warming mine. Like last night, a moment I could live in for forever. 

A vibrating in my pocket barges into my thoughts, and I’m unsure whether to welcome it as I reach for it. The same ringtone by The Cure sings from around my wrist, and my heart only falls deeper when I see the name claiming it. It sends a wave of relief throughout my body, but it only lasts a few seconds. The only name that could make it permanent is far from an option, and here I am, still wishing for it with my own two eyes. I wish that she wasn’t in an operating room somewhere in this same building, and instead her voice was singing from my phone. That’s how it was supposed to be, anyways. 

“Mum,” I answer softly, steps halting in the hallway. A sob freezes in my chest at the thought of having to speak truth into the nightmare I’m living. 

“Harry honey, what’s tha matta?” my mum responds, worry rocking her voice. 

“‘s Becks. She-,” I confess, but I can’t say it. I want nothing more than to say something else. When she asks if she’s alright, I want to say yes, and it sends wobbles down my legs knowing that I can’t say that. I can’t say it, because I don’t know it. 

“It’s okay, love, take a deep breath.”

“I can’t,” I weep, a wail escaping my lips, muffled by my palm. The tear stained skin flies to my hair that I tug at, ignoring the throb of my head hitting the wall of the hallway. “I can’t breathe, mum . . I can’t not knowin’ if she ‘s okay.”

“Oh, darlin’. What happened to her?”

“She w-was . . . inn’a car accident,” I admit breathlessly, sucking in lungfuls of air that don’t do a thing. A fire still lives deep down inside of my chest, and it was born the moment I heard Skye speak those words. “‘m at tha hospital now waitin’ t’ hear sumthin.’ Her best friend’s here with me, but, mum. ‘m so scared . . that ‘m gonna lose her fer real,” I whimper, swiping my tongue across my trembling lips wet with tears. 

“Oh, Harry,” she sighs, my sadness mirrored in her voice. “I’m so sorry, love. Do they know the extent of her injuries?” 

“I dunno, all they told her friend ‘s that she’s in surgery. We’re waitin’ fer sumbody t’ tell us mo’,” I answer, hiccups stealing my words away from me. “I hate sittin’ here not knowin’, I should go and ask . . but ‘m afraid t’. Mum . . ,” I trail off, weakness overwhelming my body that sags against the wall. I’m not even aware of the people walking past me and the hush of voices, but I couldn’t care less. 

“Breathe, honey, please. Everythin’ will be okay. I know it doesn’t seem that way right now, but it will.”

“Ya can’t say that! Ya dunno if ‘s true,” I exclaim, anger seeping through in my voice, but it’s misdirected. “I jus’ want this all t’ be a dream, I don’t want it t’ be real. I can’t think ‘bout it . . ‘bout her . . dyin’.”

“Shhhh, love. I’m sorry.”

“No, I am. But, God, mum . . I love her. I already know I do. I know it sounds bloody mad seein’ we’ve only been on two dates, but-,” I begin, but she interrupts me, reminding me of where I get my love of it from. 

“No, it doesn’t sound like that, honey. I know how you’ve felt ‘bout her these last few years, she’s been all you could talk ‘bout,” my mother says, and the only relief that I’ve seen is offered in her voice. 

“I love her, mum, and she m-might-,” I try to say, but I can’t spit those words out. I don’t think I ever could, and my desire to avoid them for the rest of eternity trumps all else. 

“Do you think she feels tha same way ‘bout you?” she asks calmly. A huff passes my lips, and I breathe in through my nose slowly. It doesn’t make a difference when a melancholy wave knocks me over. 

“Y-Ya . . I think I know she does now,” I whimper, my voice drowning in the tears. 

“And does she know how you feel ‘bout her, Harry?”

“Ya, reckon she does. I haven’t been able t’ stop lovin’ on her since our first date. And n-now . . I may neva get t’ kiss her ‘gain or hug her or . . ,” the sob leaves more trails of tepid tears on my cheeks. My thumbs press against my eyes, willing the tears to abate, but they don’t obey. Not one part of my body has obeyed my commands since I heard those nightmarish words. 

“Then it sounds like she has somethin’ to fight fer, love. It’s not tha ‘end all be all,’ but tha will to live is a powerful thing, son,” she tells me, the first licks of ice calming my feverish heart. 

“I hope yer right.”

“I’m your mum, I’m always right,” she quips, and the first hint of a laugh graces my lips. It’s gone as fast as it came, stolen away by another round of whimpers shaking from my lips. 

“Everythin’ will be okay, son.”

“And if they aren’t, and . . . she d-doesn’t make it, mum?” I sob, the words finding their exit between sobs that rip from my chest. Pain soars through the tear at the uttering of the words that I have to acknowledge, and wish that I never had to think. 

“Then mumma will be there att’a moment’s notice fer ya,” she replies, and I wish I didn’t hear the crack in her voice. It’s the very one that tore open the slit that the tears poured out through. This all started with the crack of a voice. “Lemme know if you want me to come, Harry.”

“B-But I jus’ got her back, mum. I can’t . . She can’t . . ,” I fail once again, and this time, I’m okay with it. I don’t want to ever have to say that word again, I’ve already uttered them one too many times. 

“You’ll never lose that love ya had, Harry. Trust me, I know ya can’t. I miss Robin every bloody day, but his passin’ didn’t take away our love or tha memories we made . . I know that your love with her only jus’ started, but ya had somethin’ special. I can already see that, darlin’, and you’ll never lose tha memories you made with her, and tha love that ya made together . . Think of those happy times ya had with her while you’re waitin’ for her to be outta surgery. After that, ya should get some rest, love. Sometimes surgeries can take long, and that’s okay, ‘cause you want tha doctors to be thorough and to do all that they can fer her. And they will do all that they can to save her, Harry . . It’s almost six o’clock, love, and even after her surgery is done, it takes a while to come outta anesthesia. It’ll be a long night. Try to get some rest, son, I’m sure she’d want you to,” she explains to me, and suddenly, I wish I could get a hug from my mum. 

The thought propels me into others, wishing I could hide in the arms of another. She’s always been my very favorite hiding place, and another wave rocks through me at the thought of never getting to escape to her arms again. Her smell sends my heart spinning as I drop my phone back into my pocket, aching to have her hair tickle my nose with the scent. Placing my palms against my eyes slick from crying, I hiccup in between tears. Uneven breaths pour in and out of me, and for a second, I can remember the traces of her weight in my arms. The smell of her orange blossom shampoo, the taste of her cherry carmex chapstick, and the strokes of black and gray ink along her wrist. 

“Becks, please be okay,” I mutter underneath my breath. My scalp sings with pain when my fingernails dig into the skin, making me realize this is all real. It’s not a dream that I can wake myself up from, because my life became a dream and then fell away into a nightmare. 

“Harry!” somebody calls my name. I don’t know how much time has passed, standing there in the corner of the hallway pouring my eyes out into my hands. 

It takes a few moments for my eyes to focus ahead of me, and for a fleeting second, her face appears in front of them. Blinking hard, I rub a knuckle against my eye, and she’s gone in a flash. Instead, I find Skye waving me back over to the chairs where a tall man in navy blue scrubs stands in front of her. 

“Coming,” I answer, clearing my throat as my feet remember how to work. The tingles that had settled into my sleeping limbs disperse as I take long, hurried steps until I’m at her side again, trying to forget the words she had said earlier. 

“Is this everybody?” the man says, tanned arms crossed over his chest. 

“No, wait!” another voice pipes up, and I spin around to find Robbie rushing towards us. “I-I’m her brother,” he continues, voice shaky with emotions. His eyes briefly meet mine before he stops at my side, engulfed by a hug of Skye’s. 

“Hey,” I mumble when he pulls away with a nod, his fist brushing along one of his cheeks. The greeting is difficult as my eyes are met with pain and striking similarity. Her very same baby blue eyes sit before me, as well as the wavy dark hair, and a distorted version of her lovely facial features. 

“Hey, Harry,” he returns, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat after his words. 

When his wet eyes meet mine, more unspoken words pass between us including ‘thank you’s and silent understandings. My squeezing grip is met by his taut arm when I watch the shiny tears fill his eyes. He nods back at me, quivering lips absent of words while another tear breaks free from his Holte Blue Eyes. Those goddamned eyes tear another rip into my heart at the mere sight, drudging up the wishes they conjured within my mind just last night. 

Styles babies with Holte Blue eyes. 

Please, God. Please let that still be a truth. 

“Now that we’re all here, I’m Jack. I’m sorry for the circumstances we’re meeting on, but I’m a nurse on your uh, family member’s team. Rebecca was in a serious accident, and we’re doing all that we can. She went into surgery around ten minutes ago, as soon as she got here,” the towering man explains, achieving the closest thing to quieting my mind. I’m just afraid that when he stops talking, my skull will be vibrating with more thoughts, and far worse ones. “She suffered some fractured ribs that unfortunately pierced her spleen, causing internal bleeding. That is the most urgent of her injuries, but rib fractures are incredibly painful. They can make it hard to breathe deeply or to cough properly, sometimes leading to chest infections. In the accident, she also fractured her ankle, but we’re not entirely sure of the extent of it. Due to the impact of the other car hitting her and the location of it, her right arm was broken and . . Grade 2 concussion . . amnesia,” a cloud passes over my ears then, and I turn away, soon falling into a nearby chair. 

Worst case scenarios bloom within the attic of my body, spewing tears onto my cheeks. Waterfalls cascade down them, fueled by the replaying of the man’s words between my ears. Fractured ribs. Internal bleeding. Chest infections. Amnesia. Broken ankle. Concussion. Broken arm. The tears come harder at the realization of every word, and how they laden my heart with further darkness. It falls into the recesses of my chest with each passing moment, the obscenities that left his mouth acting as the anchor that yank it down, further and further. 

I don’t hear my name the first few times, or register the hand on my shoulder. Swarms of possibilities that I can’t welcome lift me from my seat and down the hall once again until I repeat the past, and ram shoulders with Myles. My eyes fly to his surprised face, but it’s ephemeral before he’s pulling me against his front, and his hand is pressed against the back of my head. 

“She’s gotta be okay,” I plead into his shoulder, finding fistfuls of his blazer in my hands. “B-But internal bleedin’ . . amnesia . . broken bones . . a concussion . . infections. My’, I can’t do this,” the revelation feels prickly on my tongue as I fight to flight. 

“You can do this, Hare. You have to. Becky, she- she needs you to, mate,” he insists, hands waving stripes against my back. I shake my head back and forth into him, refusing to believe any of this. 

“No, this can’t be real. It can’t. I jus’ saw her, I jus’ kissed her and hugged her,” I weep, repetitive begging pouring from my tongue. My hands let go and I push at his chest for escape. He only holds me tighter within his steely arms, and I make out the first of his tears. “I shoulda told her that I loved her, I dunno if she knew. I shoulda told her,” I relent, my body becoming pliant against his. 

“She knew, Harry. I think she knew, mate . . You showed it to her in so many bloody ways, you didn’t have to say it. She knew it, she saw it. You’ll get to tell her, and hear her say it back,” he tells me, but my head hasn’t stopped shaking in denial. “Her friend over there is almost smiling, I think. The nurse is too, it looks like maybe it’s not so meek after all, Hare. It looks like she might be okay.” 

“This ‘sn’t funny, Myles, I swear t’-,” I wail, breaths filling my lungs and refusing to remain. A ‘no’ fills my ears, and I’m forced to turn around when he pulls away at the sound of my name. Yet, he’s not the one saying it. 

“Harry!” Skye calls, and her hurried steps follow her voice. Smearing the tears from my eyes, I gulp and find the bravery to look up. Becky’s best friend in the whole entire world stops in front of me, eyes rimmed with red. “They sound hopeful,” she reveals, the smallest spark of a smile sitting at the edge of her lips. Robbie stops a step behind her, shoving hands into his pockets while a tear falls from the slope of his chin. 

“Really?” I croak, stepping away from Myles until his arms fall from me. She answers with a nod and a rosy smile blooms on her lips before my eyes. 

“Yeah, they said her vitals are becoming more stable which is good. They’re amazed that her injuries weren’t worse, they said that she got lucky,” she explains, and it sounds like music to my ears. The first good thing I’ve heard tonight, albeit this whole affair only taking up the last hour of my life. It’s felt like days on end, not mere minutes. “I’m gonna go and call Chuck to tell him.”

My nod answers her words and Myles leaves with a pat to my back, “I’m gonna go and check on coffees again, maybe food later when you’re feeling like eating,” he announces. My hand finds its way to my curls once again, surely free of snarls now after the number I did on them. 

“It’s good to see you here. Well, not good given the reason why, but you know what I mean.”

Looking up, I find Robbie’s bleary blues pointed at me. I do all that I can, and that’s a nod. 

“You too,” I manage at the last moment, patting his arm awkwardly. His feet wander back over to a line of chairs, and I follow him. Falling into the one left of him, a hushed silence surrounds us. 

“Did she ever tell you that she has ‘feelings’ about things?” Robbie mutters, a sniffle interrupting his question at times. 

“Ya,” I sigh, my bottom lip numb from my teeth pressing into it from all directions. “Good and bad feelings.”

“Yeah . . I got one that I couldn’t shake tonight,” he reveals. His eyes flooded with glassy tears surprise me again, and I almost see her sitting in front of me. A memory from one of our times at the hospital threatens to break loose from the confines of my mind, but I hold it back. “So I rang her, she was just leaving work . . with you. She sounded so happy, and I couldn’t figure out why I’d gotten it. Now, I know . . ,” he finishes, an ironically melancholy laugh bringing his revelation to an end. “Twin intuition, I guess.”

“Ya,” I mutter again, unsure of what else to say. I can’t figure out what to think sitting here in my puddle of tears, let alone something something to fucking say. 

“I hated hearing that bloke say those things, detailing all of the shit that happened to her,” Robbie notes aloud, and I find that I can’t tear my eyes away from my hands when I hear the unmistakable sound of tears letting loose. “But I mean . . it helped, and I think I have a feeling she’ll be alright.”

Conflicting tears run races down the slopes of my cheeks, drenching my eyelashes with liquid sadness. It does little to calm the hammering inside of my chest, but the mannerisms of hers I hear in his voice magnify it just slightly. The brash taste of iron spills across my tongue, and I release my bottom lip from its grasp, but it’s too late because the blood is flowing. My hands blur beneath my eyes, the shocks of baby pink and pastel purple burning in my eyes. The very fingers that she held between her own so delicately just last night, swiping the nail polish brush over their naked canvases. Every other is a different pastel wash of color, and I can still picture the bright yellow and teal that I had painted on hers. 

The warm metallic taste concentrates on my taste buds when my lips press together harshly, few salty tears finding their way into my mouth with my new sob. 

“Yer sista, she- I-,” I stop quickly, not even sure of what I’m saying. I could tell a thousand stories, but I can’t decide which one is right. 

“I know, believe me,” Robbie insists, and at last, I glance over to him. Her dark chocolate locks fall over his forehead, longer than from the first and only time I met him at my firm years ago. The fringe tickles at his eyes, and he pushes it out of his face. “You have something else, you two. I’ve only been telling her to jump your bones for the last two or so years,” he divulges, and a laugh so out of the ordinary adorns my lips. It sputters to a stop, feeling wildly inappropriate, but it comes back to life when a similar one echos from beside me. 

His eyes meet mine briefly, and hold me there looking into her blue eyes as we chuckle together. It doesn’t necessarily feel right, because it feels oh so very wrong. When that thought worms its way into my attic, the sound floats away from the both of us quickly. 

“I heard it all, you know. Your story’s out,” he tells me matter of factly, but the sarcasm can’t find a place in his voice. It falls away, forgotten. “I told her it was about goddamn time you two started dating. She should’ve listened to me sooner, but no, she’s too fucking stubborn.”

“Yer tellin’ me,” I hum, running the pad of my thumb over the glossy nail polish. If I focus hard enough, blocking out the ringing of the phones and Skye’s hushed voice, I can hear her laugh in the recesses of my mind. Laughing about messing up my pink thumb last night, alarm raised in her honey-like voice. “‘m not much betta, ‘m afraid. I didn’t even get t’ ask her on tha first date, she beat me t’ it.”

“I heard . . That sounds like her, always gotta be in control. She had to do everything first when we were little. Talk first, walk first, ride a bike without stabilisers, or graduate bloody uni first,” Robbie remarks, dragging the sole of his Old Skool mustard Vans along the edge of his leftie. “I dunno how she’s gonna fair having her dominant arm in a cast, she’ll throw a fit.” 

“Oh, I know. They betta make it purple,” I comment, and he snickers beside me, the tears still falling although silently. 

“She’ll make them do it all over again if they didn’t do it right the first time. It better look all perfect for Ree.”

His tears drill into my ears, yanking at my heart, but a small relief accompanies them. He’s not using past tense, and although hardly noticeable, it makes this bearable. I’ve spoken to the bloke only once in my life, and she was there beside me then, but I find it easier with every second. Save for the moments I peek at him and see traces of her painted all over him. They aren’t bleeding twins for nothing, I admit quietly, even noticing them wearing the same brand of shoes. A pang attacks my heart when I see him spinning the braided silver ring around his middle finger, and too quickly, I could picture it being hers. 

“D’ya think she’ll . . ,” I begin, but it feels wrong from the start, and I wish it’d never begun. With a shake of my head, I pick off a piece of purple nail polish from my pinkie. The action ricochets around in my chest, and I blink hard at the searing action. No, I can’t, because there’s a chance that she won’t be there to fix it. 

“It sounds rubbish, but our feelings are always right, Ree and I. With our dad, her with you, and me knowing something was going to happen tonight. Now, I think it’ll be okay. Stupid, I know, but I just do. I-I can’t . . . can’t think about her not being okay, she’s my . . . twin sister. I don’t want to think about it,” he confesses in between scattered tears, words growing thick and indistinct. 

“Neitha can I,” I admit, my chest falling at the end when more tears break loose from their gates. “She can’t leave, n-not this early. There’s so much I want with her still. She’s made a damn good lawyer already, and I know she’d make a betta mum and-.”

“She will, there’s nothing she’s not good at,” Robbie concurs with a sad smile adorning his face. I blink, and it’s gone as soon as it had come. “She always got back up after she fell too, on our bikes, ice skating, or even with leaving uni and then going back. Working at your firm too, you could even say. I just- I really want to believe that she’ll get back up from this too.”

“Me too . . mo’ than anythin’,” I agree aloud, shuffling my gray rose ring up and down the length of my finger as I picture the flower that adorns her wrist. “I need Becks t’ be okay.”

+

Phoebe and Joey flit across the screen in front of me, laughs and smiles shared on their faces. My head falls at the realization that those are the furthest things I could feel right now, or do. Licking my chapped lips, another tear graces my tongue. They’re fewer now, however long it’s been that I’ve been sitting in this chair. Asher waits with wandering eyes a few seats over now, and somehow, I’ve only said two words to him. It sends crashing pain through my insides to look at Robbie, her literal twin, but when I look at Asher, avalanches of grief fall inside of me. 

The images in front of me spark memory after bittersweet memory, and they try to whisk me away to a time where I was sitting in a chair like this and she was at my side laughing. Shaking my head, I find it in my hands once again, their three voices murmuring off to the side while devouring subs with Myles. 

Somehow, it’s already late. The sky is pitch black outside, and the stars twinkling somewhere that I can’t find. My eyes droop and yawns leave me occasionally, but sleep couldn’t be further away. If it was knocking at my door, I’d ignore it then too. There were few updates, and each one sounded more hopeful, but I’m afraid to get my hopes up. I’ve done that far too many times concerning her, and nine times out of ten, it left me broken. I hope that I can curb that if maybe I don’t get excited, and yet, saying goodbye to the hope fuels the fire killing me off on the inside. 

I want to turn it off, but I can’t find the remote. I wish I could turn all of this off, but I don’t know how. I can’t let myself fall asleep. No, not until she wakes up, and they just left minutes ago saying she was done in the OR after a successful surgery. I was surprised by how little it had phased me, seeing how Skye jumped to her feet and Robbie was all smiles. Myself though, I couldn’t seem to find one anywhere. I can’t find him. Me. I felt Myles watching me, and worrying. I knew she would be doing the same thing if this was all different, and I couldn’t count how many times I had wished for that truth by now. 

I wished that this could all be different, and alas, here I am too scared to believe it could be. The fear debilitates me with every waking second to believe that things could be okay. I’m so afraid to believe that she’ll be alright, because this all seems so sick and that it changes with every corner I turn. 

The rest of the episode passed before my absent eyes, and then Skye was coming back from seeing her in Recovery. Tears plastered her cheeks now, more than before, and they didn’t shy away from mine either. 

“You should go and see her,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be honest, i-it’s awful seeing her like that, b-but . . . it’s her. She’s okay.”

Words flee from my lips, replaced with an adamant shake of my head. I can’t even meet her eyes, because the only ones I can see are Becky’s. Now, I try to push them out of my head as I stare at my feet, the splashes of pink and purple begging for my attention. The color I so deeply crave is only within her eyes, and with a whimper, I try to will the image back to me. I fail, and the tears fall harder down my cheeks, making me wish I could be peppering kisses along hers. 

I’m on my feet before I know what I’m doing, or where I’m going. The instructing words from before repeat between my ears, pulling my feet around a corner and then another. They take me left, and then right. A long hall appears in front of me, and then I’m searching the walls. Numbers climb and climb until I find the very ones I’m looking for. A sob splashes against my palm when it comes to my lips, pressing hard against my mouth. 

208, it reads but that’s not what I see. 

February 8th is what I see staring back at me. The day of our first date, only three days ago. How in the hell has it only been three days since? How in the living fuck has it only been three hours since all of this has happened? 

My feet freeze in their path, and I ignore the nurses and doctors passing me, zig zagging from room to bloody room. Beeping wanders into my ears, and I painfully wonder which one is hers. Which one of those beeps is from her heart? Will it come to an abrupt stop and bring people rushing to her? Can she even hear it? No, she probably can’t, she’s still ‘asleep,’ or so they said. 

I don’t think I’m ready. No, I can’t be. How in the bleeding world could I be ready to see what I’m about to witness? I couldn’t ever be ready for this, and I never wanted to be. I never wanted to be having these thoughts living in my head, more than mere doubts and nightmares planted there randomly. Alas, I know why they’re there, and not for the reason I think first. No. 

I worry.

I fear.

I cry.

I doubt.

I struggle for breath.

I grieve.

I sob.

I ache. 

Because I love. 

No, not loved.

I love. 

All of these emotions and signs of pain course through me, one after the other, because I love that girl lying in that bed just behind those curtains. I love her, and I’ve known it all along. It’s what brought me here, in every way possible. It’s what propels me forward when the nurse at the computer nods, sliding open the gray curtain. It’s what pulls my eyes to the bed, and to the false sounds of breathing. Love is what wrenches the sobs from my chest at the appearance of wires, tubes, and machines hooked up to her. Love is the force that spins me around and makes me shoot down the hall, crumpling to the floor once I reach the corner by the vending machine. Love is what fills my tears that carry images of her lying in that bed fighting for her life. Love fights within myself as my entire body is racked with sobs while I curl into a ball, wishing that seeing wasn’t believing. 

Love is what makes me want to go back to her, and cover her broken body with kisses. Love is what scares the living shit out of me, preventing me from doing that in this very second, because I’m afraid that I’ll break her all the more. Love is what sends the words tumbling off of my aching lips. 

“‘m alright if yer alright, Becks . . . B-But ‘m not alright.”

+

My eyes continue to play tricks on me, but once I blink back the swarm of tears drowning in them, I find that this actually can get worse. Far worse. Their familiar glances shoot over to me and I don’t return them, ignoring the tears staining my skin. They disperse, but he remains there in the center of the waiting room, eyes on me. When I meet those sad blues at last, the newest sob is welcomed by my lips. In a blur, his arms welcome me and I let them. 

“It’s okay,” he croons against my ear, but my head shakes ‘no’s’ again and again into his unfamiliar shoulder. 

“But ‘s not. She’s not okay . . doesn’t even look like her in there. There’s so many wires and tubes and-,” my ragged breaths cut me off in time as his large hands clap against my back. 

“She’ll be okay. She’s a fighter, Harry, always has been. She’s already fighting hard, I see.”

“I wanted so fookin’ badly t’ think that this was all a dream, b-but then I saw her and . . . ‘s not,” I whimper, a new smell surrounding me as I clutch onto the back of his cold windbreaker. 

“Boops has been a fighter ever since she was born, Harry. Did she ever tell you that?” 

“No . . tell me what?” I return, my heart crashing around wildly inside my ribs, about to break free at a moment’s notice. 

“Her and Robbie had to stay in the hospital for a week after they were born,” Chuck narrates, his large palms pressed to my trembling back. “Not Ree, though, she was in and out. It only took her four days to figure everything out - how to breathe properly, eat, and even shit. But Robbie, he took a week. She was smaller too, but somehow she beat all the odds. They say that there’s typically a smaller twin who doesn’t get as much nutrition and the like while in the womb. They don’t have as good of chances thriving outside of the womb, but lookie there. Ree amazed us all, and she’s continued to do so ever since, Harry. I don’t think she’ll disappoint us today either, son,” he finishes, pulling away to cup my face with his palm. The Holte Blues stare back at me, and I catch her features mirrored in his. He nods at me with lips pressed into a flat line, and I see the tears welling in front of the blue as he pats my cheek. 

“Yer daughter, Chuck, I-.”

“I know you do, that’s why you’re here . .That’s why you’re so scared, and I’m rather damn positive she does too,” he returns, ending his words with a wink. 

I love her . . more than there are stars in the sky, and more than there are beats of my heart.

+

I had lost track of how many episodes I had watched of The Office on the telly, but it was wasted, because the images cut in and out in front of my absent eyes. The voices of those around me trickled through when I wasn’t battling with myself. I had long since ignored the gurgling of my stomach, and the buzzing of my phone. The only thing that finally woke me from my drowning senses was when Skye rushed into the room, jittery from the four coffees she'd downed. 

“She passed her vent test to come off it and is breathing on her own!” she exclaims, rather close to jumping for joy. Robbie soon finds himself caught in her embrace, and during my escape, I whiz past them and down the hall. 

“Becks,” I mumble under my breath, scratching at my cheek as the first new tears in the last half hour arrive in my tired eyes. I ignore their trailing voices, and the new sounds I’ve been drowning out. 

I rush past people and their stares, prying and not. Their eyes question me, and I don’t stop, craving the eyes that I’ve been without for far too long. Her blues. But I don’t find them when I delve into that room for the second time in three hours. Yet, I’m met with something miraculous all of the same. 

Most of the wires have disappeared from her body, and the tubes previously hidden in her throat are as well. The first hints of relief wash over me when I take another step, and then another until she’s within reach. It’s not the same and not how I pictured it, but there she is, just a step away. I’m so fucking glad it’s not like one of the ways I had thought of. Her skin is warm underneath my lips, singing praises behind my eyes. The splashes of blues and reds painting her face pull thick streams of tears onto my cheeks as I press kisses to hers. Steady breaths of hers tickle my skin, sprouting the first smile in hours on my lips. 

It’s my Becks. 

It’s her, my girl. 

Prickly stitches smatter her skin in places, but I avoid them as I run my fingers through her hair, brushing it off of her angelic face. A whimper escapes from my lips for a second, silenced by my hand as her face grows hazy from interrupting tears. My tears fall onto her ghost like skin, the remnants of orange blossoms speckled here and there. 

“‘m here, and yer alright. Everythin’s gonna be alright, my Becks,” I murmur against her forehead, peppering kisses to the freckles hidden amongst her skin. “‘m not goin’ anywhere, bug,” I finish, voice catching on the last word when I’m reminded of her saying the very same thing to me earlier today. “And neitha are you. Y-Ya keep yer promises too . . dontcha, Rebecca Ann? . .  An episode o’ FRIENDS came on earlier in tha waitin’ room . . it was our favourite one, ‘Tha One at tha Beach.’ I didn’t wanna watch it without you . . it hurt too much t’, b-but I shoulda known it was a sign that you’d be okay. And now, here ya are, me li’l fighta.” 

“I think . . I think I love you, Becks . . I dunno when I even decided that, seems ‘s been that way fer a while,” I confess into her hair, finalizing my words with another peck to her dark chocolate waves. “Please wake up so I can tell you, li’l one . . ‘ll be waitin’ here ‘til ya do.”

The only response I receive is the steady beating of the monitors sitting at her side. I watch them, sniffling, entranced by the numbers that vary only a few. A calmness washes over me as I lace my fingers with those of her left hand, careful of the wires, while watching the steady numbers. My eyes flit back to her, hidden underneath plain white blankets, and the pain makes a return to me once again. I know it’s all masked under there, the multitudes of stitches, casts, gauze, and brokenness. Injuries that I can’t fathom, no more than when that nurse breathed life into them in the waiting room.

“Ya said yest’day at me house that it was scary t’ admit how ya felt ‘bout me, and bloody hell, ‘s this scary t’ admit t’ you . . Last night I was thinkin’ ‘bout what our kids would look like. ‘m gettin’ ahead o’ meself, I know, only been on two dates so far,” I laugh ever so softly, thumbing at my ticklish nose while the whispers drop from my lips. Circles and curly mazes are left on her hand where my thumb draws them gently, even her name left there in invisible ink. “I hope mo’ than anythin’ they’d have yer gorgeous blue eyes, and prolly some perfect combo o’ our brown hair . . I hope they’d have yer cute li’l dimple, and yer beautiful laugh. Bet they’d be smart like you too, bug, and have yer drive t’ neva give up on sumthin’ . . I dunno if we’d be here if ya hadn’t given up on me . . and I promise you ‘m not ever gonna give up on you, Becks. Never . . ‘ll tell ya ‘bout all tha rest when ya wake up in tha mornin’. Sweet dreams, sleepyhead,” I announce, swallowing against my throat akin to a dessert.

Antiseptic and unfamiliarity greets my nose when I lay one last kiss on her forehead, careful of the nasal cannula across her cheeks. The feet of the metal chair squeal when I pull the chair closer to the bed, her hand limp in mine. Shocks of teal and yellow prick at my eyes, bringing the smallest of smiles to my face with a harsh gulp.

Wiping my nose with the back of my hand, my eyes scan over her obsessively, and lovingly. Underneath the strange blue gown, her chest rises and falls while her fingers remain warm in mine. I settle into the chair, adjusting it until I can lay my arm on the empty patch of bed at her side like a ninety degree angle. There, I lay my head, lulled into a quick sleep by her slow breathing, finally assured that she’s alright.

Only because of that, am I alright too.

+

My dreams had whisked me away, but it wasn’t for nearly long enough. I couldn’t know how long it had been. At the same time, it was too long and yet, not long enough. I didn’t know that I’d be grateful for waking up, and yet at the same time, the bittersweetness would make me yearn for my ignorant dream world once again. 

I’m woken by the feeling of something touching me, and as I slowly come to, I find it’s somebody playing with my hair. As sleep begins to drip off the edges of my subconscious, I can only wonder who that could be, until I suddenly know. My eyes fly open and flit to the face peering down at me. Her’s, and yet, it’s not. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she murmurs in a scratchy voice, propelling my body upwards within a second. 

“B-Becks!” I stammer, blinking hard in between rubbing at my eyes quickly, trying to decide if what I’m seeing is real. I find it hard to figure out what I want to be real, glimpsing again the bruises and cuts brandishing her face. 

“Hi,” she whispers, trying to smile, but I see that she doesn’t have it in her. 

“Becks,” I croak, tears tugging at every breath of the word as my arms go around her, and my face dives into her hair. 

“Ouch, careful,” she protests, and profuse apologies fill the air around us. “It’s okay,” she insists, the wires getting caught between us and my body surrounding hers. 

I back up instantly at the sound of her painful words, but it’s the very last thing I want to do. Touching her and wrapping her up in my arms has been the only thing I’ve wanted to do this entire time, ever since I got the call. Reality blanketing me sends thick sobs from me, and into her hair that doesn’t even smell like her anymore. The smell of orange blossom and vanilla is absent, and it continues to make this entire thing worse. It makes it too surreal, more real than I can handle. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” she hums gently, a crackly sound to her labored voice. Her hands although dainty before, leave ghostlike trails on my back, adding another tally to the surrealness board. 

“D’ya rememba w-who I am?” I ask hurriedly, pulling away to find her exhausted eyes searching for mine. A corner of her chapped lips just barely curls into her cheek, the always present pink color fleeting in the moment. 

“Of course, you’re . . my Harry,” she mumbles with a long, tired blink. The mere five words pull thicker sobs from my lips. I just glimpse the beginnings of tears in her eyes when I return to her arms that beckon for me. 

“‘m so glad yer okay, Becks, so glad. I was bloody terrified ya wouldn’t be,” I confess into the warm crook of her neck, finding a trace of her fruity-vanilla scent tucked away there. 

“Me too, Harry,” she comments a few seconds too late, marked by a clearing of her throat. Although I’m not much better, I hear the evident struggle in her voice like she’s woken up after sleeping, but I know that the raspiness clouding her voice isn’t from that. It’s from the tube that was shoved down her throat to breathe for her, and probably caused the worst sore throat in existence. 

She hardly feels the same, body marked by wires and tubes, a scratchy gown, and an abrasive cast all along her right arm. Prickly threads dot her body in places where the glass left cuts too deep to leave, and the antiseptic smell of a hospital sticks to her all over. I want to hold her against me, to squeeze her all over until I know that she’s real and that this isn’t just a dream. The kiss I press to the top of her head is marred by the smell of iron, and the crusty feeling of blood hidden among her hair. The next one I leave on her forehead is better, and the warmth of her skin under my touch scores a point for reality, although a harsh one. 

“D’ya rememba . . what happened?” I wonder aloud, painfully. My heart, too shocked from the last several hours, doesn’t even budge when the sight of her again astonishes me. Her swollen left eye is surrounded by blue and purple bruises that paint her face in places. 

She nods her head up and down, until her face creases with presumed pain and she stops. My hand covers her entire cheek that I rub with the pad of my thumb, back and forth, back and forth. 

“I don’t know. . I only remember saying goodbye to you, and then . .  talking to the nurse now. I’m glad that’s the last thing . . I remember,” she replies slowly, the words fleeing her lips at times. 

“Y-yer amazin’, y’know that?” I sigh, the tears ever so present, and I’m unsure of when they’ll ever make their departure. A laugh tries to sound from her lips, but not even within a few seconds, her face is overcome with anguish. “Hey, are ya okay?”

“It hurts, but she gave me something.”

“Where’s it hurt, bug?” I question, eyes dancing across her body mostly covered by the thick hospital blankets. 

“Everywhere,” she exhales, sounding short of breath. My lips stray to her forehead once more to leave a peck there, unsure of what more I could do. “Mostly my head . . arm, and tummy.”

“Ya, that’s . . . where they cut ya open t’ fix ya up. And . . ya got a pretty nasty concussion, and a broken arm. It was a good thing ya were wearin’ yer seatbelt, love,” I tell her, struggling to resist covering her in kisses. If only that were the antidote for fixing all of this, for fixing her. I would do it in a heartbeat if it made all of this go away, as if it never happened. 

“Always,” she almost smiles, making my heart flutter. A smile tugs at my lips as I admire her, sure I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life, or bittersweet. She adjusts the nasal cannula feeding her additional oxygen, and I just hope it’s enough. I hope that this is all enough, and that so am I. 

Her heavy eyes drift closed, but the second they do, they flutter open again. They wander back to me and a stronger smile pulls at her lips, mimicking the same motion on the strings of my heart. 

“Don’t fight it, baby, get some rest,” I coo, stroking my fingers through her hair to move it away from her face, careful in doing so. 

“I’m okay . . I want to stay with you, Harry,” Becks admits gently, licking her dry lips. A sound of disbelief leaves mine. 

“Always so selfless, you are.”

“I’m sorry,” she yawns, wincing again at another wave of pain, making me step forward. If I try to again, there aren’t any more that I can take, regardless of the wishful thought that I have to slip into bed with her. “I can’t imagine how . . upset and scared you’ve been,” she apologizes, reaching a hand out to find mine, and it causes my heart to seize with a dose of happiness. 

“No, don’t you apologize. None o’ this ‘s yer fault, ‘s tha asshole who hit you whose fault it ‘s. Yer doin’ so good, Becks, ‘m . . . so fookin’ happy ya came back t’ me . . so proud. My Becks,” I say, smiling through the tears washing out my words. I see the smallest hint of the dimple in her left cheek when they round out from the tiniest of smiles. 

“I’ll always . . come back to you, Harry,” she smiles, and I give in, dipping to press my lips to hers. She may smell different, feel different, and even taste different, but the kiss makes me sure that this is my same Becks, and that this isn’t all a dream. Regardless of the fact that I wish it all was just a made-up dream that I could wake up from, I’m okay with the fact that it isn’t, as long as my girl is okay. 

Finally, she’s my girl. 

And finally, she’s okay. 

My Becks.

+

A/N: Hello, lovely people! Okay.... I am SO sorry for that, but thanks for sticking through it.. I promise Becks will be okay, I would never break up Hecky like that. I apologize for no real content warnings, I didn’t know how to do that without ruining the chapter... Also, please cut me some slack if I get any medical things wrong or they’re unrealistic, I’m not a doctor and I’m doing my best with what Google can give me and from personal experience in hospitals. Thanks SO much for reading all this way into the story, I mean it when I say I’m excited for you to see what’s going to happen! Feel free to visit my askbox if you want to talk after this rollercoaster of a chapter, I feel you. I’d LOVE to talk to anybody about Hecky anytime, or if you want a sneak peek of next week’s chapter lemme know! Make sure to check out the Hecky playlist - although it’s long, I think it has some great tunes on there that remind me of our fav couple! I admittedly had it playing the whole time I was making pasta the other day :P Have a great day, ily c:

[writingamongtheroses-archive]

Showtime, Chapter 12

(I finally wrote that vent scene I once told @andiwriteunderthemoon about! Warning for audio violence and there is some Spanish in this. @h-faith-marr-writeblr.)

Liza stared up at the darkness of the vent.

"...are you sure this is the best way?"

"Well, if the door is locked and since none of us know how to pick locks, then, aye. This will be the best option lass."

She turned from the vent to stare at Bun. She raised a brow. "You're a pirate and you don't know how to pick locks?" The bunny nodded. "I thought- oh, never mind." The duo stood in the kitchen, where Bun had taken off the cover of the main vent in the ceiling.

"Ted knows how to pick locks!" Kitty chirped, busy rolling out a circle of pizza dough on the next table.

Liza raised a brow. "Why does he...?"

Instead of answering the question, the cat put aside her rolling pin to join them. She peeked up into the vent. Her face matched Liza's own. "Yuck. Doll told me once that there's a bunch of spiders." Bun knocked her shoulder in a clear warning for the younger. Kitty was quick to backtrack. "But it's not that bad!"

"Yeah, no, I don't think this will work. Sorry girls." Liza turned away, trying to think of another way. "Maybe..."

"Oh sure, Ted! I definitely know Liza's hiding in here!" The sudden boom of Rex's voice just in front of the kitchen doors made her start. "What?! Puppet says we can stuff her? Okay!" A minute later, Rex poked his head in. He was met with the girls' unimpressed stares. "I thought that would get you going."

Liza raised a brow. "...Thanks for that, I guess?" An idea popped into her head. She snapped her fingers. "I got it! I can just unscrew-"

"You say something, Rex?"

That voice made Liza freeze. The sound of footsteps approaching and Rex pulling his head back out forced her into action. She hopped onto the counter, grabbing the vent and yanking herself up. The vent was big enough that she could comfortably turn to try and grab the grate. Kitty and Bun were already shoving it up. She froze when the kitchen door opened and she heard Ted walk in. Bun aimed a look that said only one thing.

Don't move.

Ted raised a brow at the sight of the two holding up the grate of the closed vent. "What are you doing?" he said, one brow raising.

"Um...the cover fell off!" Kitty said quickly. "Bun was just helping me get it secure!"

"Why don't you ask Liza to fix it?" Rex asked, poking his head over Ted's shoulder. The resulting glare from his twin made his ears flatten against his head.

"Has anybody seen Miss Dorado? I saw her come in, but she's not in her office."

"I think the lass might be cleaning. Somewhere. Not here, in this space. In particular." Bun seemed to shrink as everyone stared at her. She immediately stepped back from the grate, assured that it was either steady or Liza could grab it. "C'mon, let's go look for her!"

Liza saw it as the escape it was. When the kitchen doors swung close, she immediately turned and started crawling.

Surprisingly, Liza fit in the vents.

They were built for someone much bigger than her slender build and it was easy to crawl on hands and knees, one hand holding the office flashlight. Her light bobbed in the darkness ahead of her. She nearly missed the gold and had to pause and back up to look at it.

It was a small drawing of Ted's head, done in golden paint. It looked carefully done, despite the mere childish energy it seemed to give off. Liza dismissed it as a weird thing a construction worker had done until she turned a corner to find another drawing. She found two more in different corridors before starting to think it over. The other possibility, besides a random construction worker doing it before the vents were installed, was that someone had spent hours in the vents with a paintbrush and golden paint, carefully sketching Ted out in random places.

"Doll?"

"Hm?" Her voice was lazy in the back of Liza's mind. She shivered- she was never going to get used to that, now that she knew about the ghost.

She aimed the flashlight at the latest Ted drawing she had found. "Did you do these drawings of Ted?"

"Wha- Huh. Oh, yeah, that. Yeah, that was me, back when I was alive."

"Why?"

"To see through them. And they're not Ted, they're Goldie. Of course, you can't tell the difference with the style...why are you in the vents anyway?"

Liza rolled her eyes at the quizzical answer. "Bun and I were trying to break into Mr. Calworth's office, but the door was locked. Bun suggested that I try the vents but the nearest one was in the kitchen." She looked around. "Do you...know where I am?"

"Um...let me see..." The 'Goldie' head lit up in gold. Liza yelped, staring at it in surprise. Now that it was lit up, she noticed something off. The eyes were simply empty sockets, with no sign of pupil or iris to be seen. As soon as the golden glow came, it left. "Take the next right and you should get there in a few feet."

"Thank you."

Liza continued on her way, took the next right, and found a grate a few feet, as Doll had predicted. She adjusted herself to kick it down. There was a loud bang when it hit the floor after a few good hard kicks. She turned off the flashlight and tucked it into the pocket of her overalls. Then she hoisted herself through, wincing when her work boots hit the grate with another clang. That was way too loud.

Now freed from the vents, Liza unlocked the office door. Captain Bun was waiting outside. She couldn't resist giving a little "Ta-da!" Her smile faded when the animatronic let out a noise like she was stifling laughter. "What?"

"Ye got cobwebs in yer hair, lass."

Liza made a face as she undid her braid to run her fingers through it, pulling out the grey strands and wiping them off, redoing it when she was done. Bun chuckled as she turned on the light. The sudden brightness revealed Mr. Calworth's computer, lying open. The two of them stared at it.

"...well, that was easy."

Liza slid into the seat and started poking on the computer. Bun started to carefully look around the desk. She pulled up a few papers, raising a brow. "Lass, I found something about you."

"And I found out why this office was locked. Mr. Calworth doesn't have a password on his work laptop."

"Were ye really in a coma for an entire month?"

Liza nodded, distracted by poking around the desktop. "Yeah. When I woke up, no memories and couldn't understand a single word of English. Oh yeah, also had a lovely phobia of the dark for some reason. This job just keeps stabbing at it- ooh! Found something!"

It was an audio recording, which must've been hooked to the recorder. Liza pressed PLAY.

"Hello, hello!" She blinked in startled surprise- it was the recording guy. Elijah. "Hey, hey, wow. Night six. I know you could do it." His voice sounded strained, unlike the first night. "Hey, listen. I might not be around to send you a message tomorrow-" Loud, familiar banging in the background made Liza pale. Bun had gone still. "It- It's been a rough night. To be honest, I'm kinda glad I recorded my messages. Hey! Do me a favor and call, um..." There was the crinkle of a paper. "Elizabeth Dorado." Liza fell out of her seat, scrambling to her feet to flatten herself against the wall.

"Tell her...tell her I'm sorry I couldn't do better. She'll be confused, but she deserves to be told that. I'm going to try and hold out to do it myself but if I don't, at least she'll know." There was a nervous chuckle before a music box started to play. "Oh no."

There was a hideous, loud screech, and then the recording came to an end.

Liza stared at the computer. "Elijah?" she asked very quietly. She sank into the chair, staring at the recording. "Wha- What happened?" she said, staring at Bun. "What happened to him?"

The rabbit looked away, simply holding out a piece of paper. Liza took it. "Found it while ye were pokin' around, lass." the pirate said. She was clearly avoiding the question, but she took it. "Looks like a list of goods."

Liza took it. Under an official-looking logo, MENTIRA stared at her. "It is." She said, looking it over. "But, this doesn't make sense. This is a list of parts, not equipment." There wasn't even a list of past orders or related equipment.

"What is he doing?" She wondered. There was no answer. "Bun?" She looked up, seeing the rabbit staring at the doorway. Liza glanced at the doorway and froze.

Ted stood there, glaring at Liza. She stiffened, papers slipping from her grip when she recognized the murderous, black pit stare. Like the night before, her mind started to feel detached from her body. Doll- she was almost certain it was Doll doing this- shrunk in place with a hiss, like a cornered cat.

Doll reached out, intent on warning Rebecca to back off. Only...there was nothing. The ghost wasn't the one doing this.

"Lassie."

Liza blinked, suddenly in control again.

"Run."

Ted ran just as Liza did, but Bun was already there to intercept him. “This ain’t the time for one o’ yer malfunctions! Come to yer senses, Captain, before ye something ye'll regret—" Liza resisted a whimper as she sprinted down the hallway. Then she ran into something big, covered in orange and lavender fur.

She couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as she tried to talk to the cat at the same time "Kitty! Kit- Kitty, something's wrong with Ted, he's..." She froze when she saw the open plate, a red light twinkling at her mockingly. Why was her endoskeleton exposed like that? "Malfunctioning."

Kitty turned, revealing the same dark pits as Ted had.

Once again, Liza felt weightless as Doll took hold. The ghost child, just like Ted's, wasn't the one doing this. Her boy-Rex- was scared out of his wits, actually. Doll scrambled to Liza's feet, managing to dodge out of the way when Kitty let out a loud, screechy hiss and swung. Her claws raked across the wall, shredding the paper and sent wall dust scattering into the air.

They took the chance and ran for the office, ducking inside. The Puppet looked up at her knowingly. Doll grabbed the remote and shut both doors with relieving clangs, but it was Liza who collapsed into the office chair.

She grabbed the tablet and furiously scrolled through the cameras. She stopped on the outside hallway's feed. Rex was there, glaring up at her with dark pits of his own. Static disrupted the feed. When it cleared, the hallway was empty.

Something was wrong with the animatronics, the entire restaurant.

And the pieces were starting to come together.

Liza made a distressed noise into her hands, torn between terror and sympathy for them all. She ignored the loud banging that was starting up at her door.

"I'm...Dios. Voy a arreglar esto. De alguna manera."

[gcrifin]

@autumnswordsman​ chirped:  Drowsy, physically worn down to the wrinkles on his shirt from sleeping on her couch after work, Zoro's idly looking for the bathroom as opens another closet. He hasn't bothered with turning on the lights, and through the blinds weak sunlight slanted across the walls; drawing his attention to a container. Not one to pry into a friend's possessions, but even so his curiosity gets the better of him. At the reveal of various, /creative/ toys, he just clears his throat. "Nice collection."

     Early to bed and early to rise, even for days characterized by nothing but lazy limbs and an empty schedule. Stirring almost always before the sun, if barely from day to day, nails digging sleep from the corners of eyes. There’s precision in the flick of digits; determination, perhaps, if only out of the stubbornness to clear her vision well enough to gather hair at the back of the head. Teeth clenching elastic, a taste more prominent as lips curl inward with movement of the neck, no loose strand safe from the sweeping thumb travelling up her nape. Would be that a process of thorough brushing and braiding of a golden crown would follow, but the day is young still. All but two long, signature locks pulled together and snapped into place with the hairband plucked from between her teeth, a liberated ponytail left to sway against the bare skin of her back. Grooming hands slide multiple fingers along the sides of her face, upward and pressed to bundle cheeks a time or two as if routinely stretching unnecessary muscles therein; all those little, overworked things used for those jubilant, mile-long smiles at the start of every morning . 

     Time between further activities is a long, slow routine geared in the dulcet tones of early birds calling towards the sun. Inattentive in contentment, easily ignorant of the movement in a dimly lit room. Rhythm is kept only with the quiet beat of a heart, toes grazing the carpet from their place just shy of it, legs not quite long enough to touch the floor even from a chair chosen to fit a house fully decorated with herself in mind. Half-lidded expression seeking vengeance against a chipper start tugs longingly at her features, enough to consume Lulubelle with the desire to return to the warmth of sheets for but an hour or two more. No consequences, no rush, with fully illuminated sunbeams to cast natural light upon her face when the time is right and turn its surface into a sundial. Already there’s a picture of glowing veins behind closed eyelids, translucent under the force of that which lies beyond waiting for her to wake; it’s a fairy tale beginning ignorant of current reality, biased in the acceptance of peace undisturbed .

    Slowly that hardback cover turns shut, trudging of weakened physique into private quarters with purpose. Ears regard a sound only well enough to determine its owner from the work day before, comfort in the knowledge immediately quelling fears of the unknown. No turn or consideration for the reasons behind such a venture, only focused on welcoming the sleep she had so foolishly kicked out back into her eyes without a thought to return to the bed. It’s typical, falling asleep amidst newspapers with the scent of polished wood and printer paper like a dull incense one must bury their nose in to properly smell. Familiarity makes a protective pillow, white noise a soothing sound . 

     It all cracks deftly at the bend of hinges collapsing into one another, white folding door opening to disturb hangers fit with organized clothes and a couple of tightly taped boxes. It is behind an innocent surface that suggestive things lie, clean cut business suits belying racy indulgences. Eyes flutter open, attempting to stir the mind enough to process the time, place, and activity going on in the room. It all comes but a moment too late, cleared throat breaking the serenity of the morning as she turns to find a patch of green huddled between dark grey fabric, long since privy to the secrets beneath them .

     Oh, of all the places to wander ! 

      ❝ T-That’s... thank you? I mean ─ No! ❞ Drowsiness is a curse broken by the blessing of surprise at Zoro’s comment. A flush of color masked by an early morning, intense yet languid kicks of the leg looking to touch the ground and stand her up properly as soon as feasibly possible in order to salvage some sort of dignity from the discovery. ❝ You know it’s terribly ungracious to look through a lady’s personal belongings, especially when she’s letting you stay over! What are you even doing in there, anyway ? ❞

      Rapid blinks of the eyes followed by self-conscious grunts laced with the static of standing up too quickly. Realization starts in a low pitch only to peak a moment later, ❝ Don’t tell me... you got lost? It’s a small house !! ❞ 

     Alas, even in a home with only one bedroom and a single bath, he was forever doomed to wander no matter how many times the layout was presented to him. With three of one and two of another, respectively, Lulubelle’s home is about as clear as a four-way intersection without street signs. The side of a foot wedges between Zoro and the toy box and pushes it back into the recesses of the closet out of the natural light. At the expense of never being able to speak of personal virtues in that regard again, she offers him a side glance, acceptance of herself clear enough in tone but presented with accented jest as if to cover some sort of inexplicable shame in unnecessary reasoning .

      ❝ I just like a bit of added fun, is all. There's nothing wrong with that . ❞

[madamhatter]

rebellicnstar inquired: /)///v///(\ { Natsume or Subaru? :O } Send “/)///v///(\” to see how my muse would talk about yours to another person. | accepting ! | @rebellicnstar​

   In the life of the heiress, dexterity and adaptability were tools of her trade. Exchanging between facades of demure submissiveness to diffident civilness to the taciturn schemer -- several more masks hung up in the closet for emergencies -, eclectic she was to personate any caricature best-filling the situation. After all, the theatrics of lying and disguising intentions were merely commonplace in the affluent. And, for she who led a life as the misfortunate of three, subservient to the whims of tradition and family, she would do all that she must as the actress to ensure her sisters’ safety, health, and future

  ...And, perhaps, impersonating different possibilities of life she couldn’t have, were drops of bittersweet euphoria. Far too addicting, Miss Hatter. Best control your intake before plummetting off the abyss.

   What mask had she adorned today? The day embraced winter wondrously, a light cooling breeze swept through the city and, by God’s name, the sun peeked from out from behind her curtains of gray clouds today. A perfect day for an outing and the heiress was roped into such arrangements. From the modest, plainly dress of grey to grey slacks and white button-down, from monotonously shaded, thick shawl to gray blazer, and chipped, old brown boots to one-inch closed-toed pumps of black, and tightly braided low braid to high braid of brown and silver locks, from grey mouse to the silver fox, the Hatter resides in the professional sphere. A controlled smile, observant eye, and illegible mind were all a part of this mask. 

     A gaggle of five -- Alice, Cynthia, Denise, Ivania,  and Samantha -- roughly in their late teens but still younger than Sophie, gathered at the front of the cafe, facing another in their seats, chatting away while silver-haired sat overlooking both the busy street corner and girls. Ivania brushed her fingers through her pixie cut of purple, smiling impishly while eyeing between the dewy-eyed Denise of long, wavy brown locks and wide-eyed, gasping Samantha of straw-yellow and thin, long hair pushed together into a lazy bun. To the left of Ivania was the snickering Alice, twirling her finger into her Rapunzel-length hair, passing comments to a quiet, equally as humored Cynthia, who adjusted her head wrap. 

    Chaperoning was of the most common duties for Sophie, gained by both the trust of her much older business partners and unrelenting demand of her stepmother when she trained. Only out of the rules of social etiquette did the eldest participate -- after all, these relationships held ulterior motives. There no such thing as a relationship in Sophie’s life; all came with a price, a purpose, and it fell on her to provide. After all, she was to be used, broken. That’s all good she’s for. 

     Refraining from eye-rolling, the heiress shifts in her seat, frame straightening, as she opens her sketchbook. A chorus of giggles and whispers aside, the atmosphere remained relatively peaceful, besides from what infested the current conversation. Currently, the topic was among one of those. Typical teenage talk of gossip and...ugh, love.

     Headlong romances, summer crushes, and formal arrangements, none of which suited the teenager. Most around the table had only received from confession letters in their school bags or hidden on their desks. Off-the-table conversations of long term romances were far and in between the young women and their families; there was simply no desirability to follow that tradition with how secured their fortunes were.

    Well, that must be nice, Sophie thought. Back home, and even before she turned eighteen, her postbox had been full of strangers proposing through letters, promising of love, security, and devotion. But, it was only a flaunting show to what they believed she desperately: security and wealth. The greed of man drowned itself in the desperation of the helpless and unfortunate, willing to compromise ethics and create deceits for any means to take advantage. 

     “Eh, Sophie, have you?” Cynthia’s umber irises glanced down the eldest at the table, mildly adjusting the pale pink headscarf carefully yet barely touching the material. Sophie blinks hard, lifting her head. “Pardon?” Sophie twirls the pencil between her fingers, inquiring context. “Has anyone taken a fancy to you?” Cynthia replied forwardly, raising a black brow with slight intrigue.

     Glancing down to the parchment, following the faintest traces of lead and the outline of an undetailed face, Sophie’s lips part. Yet, nothing leaves. Anytime the post came full of proposals, it meant that the fireplace in her father’s study would be well-used that night. She drums the end of her pencil against the sketchbook, drumming along to her thoughts. Yet, for the five seated in anticipation, it was ---

     “Why are ya’ reluctant? Your mum doesn’t know?”  Ivania inches forward. She hadn’t shared any of her personal life with them, Sophie realized. Though, what point was there to blend two different lives she’s already strived to keep separate all this time? 

    “No, no, no,” the heiress waves up her left hand, dismissing the claim. She looks down at her sketchbook. “Ah--” But, there was--

   "Oh, I have.” Sophie’s head snaps up. “A most interesting proposal. An up-coming and rising Japanese celebrity outright proposed without a second thought. Not only that, it was an invitation to a polyamory group...with other celebrities.” 

   “I thought Lettie was jokin’!” Denise gasps. “You’re surely mistaken,” the heiress cocks a brow. Shit, seems like Lettie has a case of leaky lips. How could I even ever tell her of my current predicament? 

     “I did turn it down. But, the one who’d approached my hand is an exquisitely bright young man! He knows how to draw attention to him whenever he enters the room with merely a flash of his smile. I suppose the most telling part of his person as his eyes. Beryl color, large, ever so capturing anyone he sees, and it feels like he listens to every word he could before blurting out everything he wants to say.” 

    “Ahaha--” A stray silver strand rests against her face and she brushes it aside as she laughs. “He’s quite the forward person who’d be honest with his feelings and never shy away about why he would like something.” Like how he adored coins simply for their shine. “It’s so rare to find someone who’d be as willing to say whatever it is on their mind without making a whole game out of it,” she huffs, refusing to name names. 

    “Now that I think about it, I stand taller than him if I did put on my heels, which aren't terribly high. But, that doesn’t matter at all -- I’m not sure why the lot of you at your age take someone’s height to be such an important factor.” Her fingers begin threading through her ponytail. “He’s also a wonderful dancer, from what I recall. All of his unit are, really. They’re a part of the group that he invited me to. Oh, they sing too! They’re musicians.” 

    “Oh goodness, the more I think of it, he’s certainly one who thinks out of the box with his replies. He’s..He’s much like the sun if I think of it now. I haven’t ever seen his sad, but he truly exudes such positive, albeit hyperactive, energy. A free spirit too, ah...” Sophie sighs, curling her index finger through the ends of her ponytail. 

      The heiress waves off her thoughts, clearing her throat. “Forgive me, girls, I went off on a terrible tangent. I don’t meddle with romance. Too much work to do when I’m up to my head with my own business and duties running my corporation.” 

     In unison, the table shouts, “HOW COULD YOU TURN HIM DOWN?”