#when we would visit our cousin and i wanted us all to play together or whatever she'd always turn it into a 2 v 1

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond - s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Five: Somewhere in the Crowd There’s You

a/n: here’s chapter five of my purely self-indulgent fun — a little later than i anticipated because i was sick and got a little derailed. we are half way now and things will be heating up in the next few chapters, haha. wanted to play around with one of my favorite tropes, so here we are with modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

warnings/tags: (10k words); mentions of alcohol; parent loss, both parties; r has a sister and father; smut in later chapters, so 18+, minors dni; additional tags to be added.

masterlist

-

-

“You sent too much money.” 

It’s your father’s voice that spills down the other line. Gruff in a way that alerts you your fears aren’t for naught, as he’s likely had many sleepless nights since the last you spoke. You recall days as a child, when your mother had been sick, and your father would stay awake all hours of the night, if only to clean up the house so she didn’t have to. To make sure that her worries were only meant to be on getting better and resting. 

“I…have a business and it’s going well,” you explain, chewing on your bottom lip. 

Across the room, Steve’s fluffing pillows and putting a champagne bottle on ice. Your guests will be here soon, likely within the next few minutes, though when your father’s name flashed across your screen you knew you needed to answer. 

“Only a few clients now, but I’m hopeful I’ll pick up more,” you continue, exhaling deeply. “I want you to have it. I know Caroline mentioned needing new shoes. Please let me do this.”

There’s a long pause. “Okay, okay. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Clinical year at school, newly married, and now a businesswoman. How is my son-in-law?”

“He’s…” 

Steve rushes into the kitchen where you’re standing, hands curling around either of your hips to shift you away from the refrigerator so he can pull out the charcuterie board you had commissioned for the evening’s gathering. 

“He’s really great. He’s been busy since we got back from our honeymoon, but he’s doing really well.”

Ever since your moment days ago in the kitchen, after Steve had pushed aside picking you up and opted to send Hopper in his stead, your relationship has taken new form. True to his word, Steve started a new habit of not answering his phone after you're done with your clinicals for the evening. Afternoons now had been spent watching your shows together on nights you didn’t have prior engagements with his coworkers, merely existing in the same room together, becoming…friends. 

Literal friends, in the truest sense of the word. And it’s more than you can ask for, though you can’t lie that even the slightest touches leave you a little breathless. There’s also the kisses to the back of your hand at dinner, the way he curls his palm around the top of your thigh while his coworkers regale a particularly interesting story, the lingering press of his mouth against your forehead when he’s feeling especially doting in mixed company. 

Progress. 

You’re making progress. 

“I actually should go and help him. We have company this afternoon. His cousin and wife are visiting us for the first time since the wedding. Still getting used to hosting gatherings as a couple, you know?” There’s a chuckle on the other end, and you know him well enough to imagine the slow shake of his head. “I love you so much and I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

The line clicks, leaving you to witness Steve elbow deep in the sink, washing your coffee mugs from earlier that morning. Your eyes slide to the perfectly operational dishwasher on his right side, though you can’t deny that the sight of your husband, bare arms shifting and moving as he works, is a lovely one. None the wiser of your ogling, you step forward to him, elbow leaning down against the counter. 

“You know, the dishwasher is empty,” you point out. 

“I am perfectly capable of cleaning a few dishes,” he grouses, rinsing a cup and settling it in the drying rack. “I also need to keep moving. Getting antsy now that they’re running late.”

“Hey, Steve?” You step closer, your front brushing his hip. He shakes his head as you do so, a laugh breaking free from his mouth as you grip his arms and still him in his frantic movements. “Put the sponge down. And the plate. The fork, too.”

The three items plunk down into the sink, a loud clatter in your otherwise silent home. Fingers curl around a hand towel and he reaches over to grasp his wedding ring, pushing it back into place against his knuckle. One thing you’ve found, and you particularly enjoy, is the fact Steve’s never taken off his ring. Not once. Even under the false pretenses of marriage, seeing him wearing a symbol of your union, of the vows you shared some time ago now, erupts dozens of bees into your bloodstream. Humming, buzzing, igniting your every nerve ending with electricity. 

“Are you okay,” you ask, hand coming to rest against his back. 

It’s the softest brush, and yet he turns his head all the same, hazel eyes meeting yours, and then trailing up the inside of your arm to where you’re touching. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says unconvincingly, shifting to face you now. That arm drops as he does so, but is replaced by his two large hands cupping your biceps. “Just want to get through this afternoon and then I’ll be much happier.”

Your mouth opens to speak, to ask him why the stress over this afternoon, when his phone rings and the doorman lets him know Theobald and Cami have finally arrived. It’s not the first time you’ve met them. The first had been at your wedding, where introductions to most of Steve’s friends and extended family were done so in a rapid fire manner. They’d been kind enough; as much as one can be in a two minute conversation wherein you welcomed them and thanked them for coming to celebrate your “special day” with the love of your life. 

But now, seeing them there in the flesh, brought a new wave of nervousness into your belly. Theobald Cletus, with his dark hair that resembles Steve’s, with tan skin and the beginnings of wrinkles that crease his forehead and around the corners of his mouth. And beside him, his stunning wife with silky red curls that fell to her waist in ringlets, delicately freckled cheeks, and impossibly green eyes. Ethereal—she looked ethereal and, by your guessing, quite a bit younger than her husband standing with a hand against the smallest point of her back. 

As your mouth opens to speak and welcome them into your home, Cami rushes forward, curling her arms around your shoulders in a frighteningly tight hug that has you wincing and peering over your shoulder to your husband. Steve only shrugs as he steps forward and cups his hand around his cousin’s, only to be tugged forward into a hug of his own. 

“Theobald, you’ve met my wife,” Steve finally says once you’ve managed to extract yourself from Cami long enough to sidle back up to him, his arm settling around your waist, palm curling affectionately around your hip. One of the appropriate touches you’ve discussed, and yet it has your head spinning all the same. 

Just as it does every time. 

“Ah, yes.” His eyes flicker to yours. Darker than your husband’s, corners twitching as his lips curl into a smile. “The new Mrs. Harrington. How could I forget that whirlwind affair?”

Head dipping uncomfortably, you press your palm against Steve’s where it rests against your hip, sliding your fingers between his to lace them tight. “It was pretty crazy, wasn’t it?” Awkwardly laughing, you turn to look to Steve for support. “Should we take this into the living room?”

“Please!” Cami exclaims, flicking her hair over her shoulders. “I would love to hear all about the honeymoon. I want all the details. Should we be expecting any little Harringtons soon?”

Just as you say, “Absolutely not,” Theobald echoes, “My cousin loves kids. Always wanted a brood of them.”

It’s expected, you think. It’s a common question after marriage, no matter how inappropriate. Society says once you’re married you’re to obviously have children next. Frankly, it’s archaic and a ridiculous practice. And even so, Theobald’s words strike a sudden sadness into your chest. This thought that Steve so deeply wants children. A thought you could completely see come to fruition based on his interactions with El and Will alone. They’d been immediately endeared to him. All wide eyes and bright laughter, vibrant conversation, his endless bantering with them. 

Steve Harrington would be a good father to his future children one day with his real wife. Not the woman you are to him for the next three years. 

However, it’s at this moment you rationalize the error in your plans. A real couple would have had these conversations about future children already. 

“Not now, at least,” you giggle airily, curling your arm around Steve’s and tugging him close. His brows furrow as you add, “Right now I’m just enjoying spending time with my husband. I want to be a little selfish for a while yet.”

“Understandable,” Cami agrees, settling down on your living room couch, crossing her legs and revealing a stunning pair of Gucci pumps that likely cost your half of the rent while still living with Robin. “I love our two little gremlins, but they take up all our free time. Constantly running them around to school events, dance classes, sporting events.”

“Sweetheart, the au pair does all of that,” Theobald chuckles, earning a whack in the arm from his wife. “Enough about that. Tell me…how did you two meet? It all happened so fast.”

“As you already pointed out,” Steve warns, hand around yours growing tighter. 

Cami moves to open the champagne bottle, easing the tension in the room with the echoing pop. Glasses are poured and passed around the table, glasses coming together in a soft ‘cheers’ before you bring the champagne flute to your lips and take a large swallow. Bubbles burst against your tongue, eyes training on Theobald’s, just as he passes a look your way. 

A battle of wills then, you think. 

“We met at a party,” you begin, removing your hand from Steve's and gripping the bottom of his chin, shifting him enough that he’s looking at you. “We’d known each other for a bit through our mutual friend, and we’d always kind of danced around one another. In the same spaces always, yet too nervous to make the first move.”

Steve watches you carefully as you weave your tale that isn’t really a tale. It’s mostly the truth, with the romance added in. But it comes naturally. Pours out of you with an unexpected ease that has Cami leaning into her husband’s shoulder, green eyes twinkling as you speak. 

“And then one afternoon, Stevie bought me a drink and walked it over to where I was standing by myself. My friend had just left to use the restroom, and here he stood…all tall, dark, and handsome. We started talking that night and just realized how easy it was to be around one another. I’d never talked so much on a first date, and yeah—I considered that our first date. After that we spent nearly every day together. It didn’t take long for us both to realize we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Some might think it was rushed, but there’s that saying, right? When you know, you know. And with my school starting up again, and us wanting so badly to get married, we thought no time like the present. Now here we are.”

For emphasis, you lean forward. Close enough that Steve’s eyes cross, his mouth dropping a hint at the corners, before twitching upward when your lips press against the corner of his mouth. A tentative press of your skin just barely against his. You linger with your forehead against his, trying not to focus on the temperature in the room, or how it feels it’s creeping higher and higher with every passing moment you remain connected to him. 

“Here we are,” Steve echoes, breath fanning against your bottom lip. 

Were you to even move an inch, your mouths would connect. A thought he must have as well, because he brings his thumb up and taps your bottom lip gently, nuzzling your nose until you hear the excitable clapping of Cami’s hands where she’s sitting on the living room touch. Pushing the hem of your summer dress down back around your knees, you shift and take in the older man sitting across from you. His eyes are narrowed on your face, a twitch not unnoticed in his cheek as he jolts to his feet and suggests Steve and him have a little bit of time as ‘cousins’ on the private patio. Noticing your hesitance at him leaving your side, Steve brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, pours you another glass of champagne, and promises he’ll be right back. 

With the door closed and the men left to their own devices, you look over to Cami. Cami, the picture of beauty. An image of a woman who walks in this world of the elites and has no qualms about it; steps into it and commands it, whereas you’re still walking around on wobbly legs like a baby deer. Even her clothes look like they were made for her. Luxurious fabrics that ebb and flow with her every movement, high neck of her summer dress leading to a gorgeous diamond necklace falling to the hollow of her throat. 

Across from her, your dress suddenly feels too tight. Gifted by your mother-in-law who insisted she owned her own fashion line, and therefore absolutely must dress her only daughter. A quick phone call wherein you protested her suggestions ended with a ring from the doorman alerting you a delivery of multiple garments had arrived for you. Various dresses for each occasion, pants, shoes, blouses and anything you could imagine ever needing were added to your closet. All elaborate in design, and becoming for a new wife to the CEO of a major contracting company. The biggest the city touted, if you were completely honest with yourself. 

Today you wore an off the shoulder floral patterned dress and the diamond earrings gifted by your mother-in-law as a bridal shower gift. You’d pushed aside the thought of heels for the afternoon; instead opted for a comfy pair of sandals that were maybe in their last season of use, but now they only looked garish in the light beside the Gucci pumps on Cami’s feet. 

Comparison, this ugly weed of a thing, grew up within you against your better wishes. Robbed you of what little air fell in and out of your lungs as you sat there, sipping your champagne. You didn’t care for these preconceived ideas of what a Harrington wife should look like, right? You were your own person, had been long before him, and would continue to be so after him. Yet sitting there, watching her gracefully move about the room, and commenting on the pictures you’d added from the wedding, reminds you of how some people were meant for this life. Some people were raised for it. 

You were not. 

“He looks so in love with you,” Cami trills, fingers running along the silver edge of your photo frame, lifting it nearer to her face for inspection. You know exactly which one it is. Jonathan had told the two of you to look one another in the eyes and press your foreheads together. He’d draped your veil over the both of you, the setting sun basking you both in a golden hour halo. It’s dreamy. A shot so dreamy it’s easy to believe it is of a man deeply in love with his bride. “That new love look. Cherish it. You know how these Harrington men are.”

Actually…you don’t. 

You’re not interested in even asking her what she intends by her words, but when she places the photo back down and turns your way, there’s a glimmer of something wet on her lower lashes. Awkwardly, you clear your throat, reaching over and offering to refill her glass. She heartily accepts, fingers combing through long amber locks as she settles back down on the couch across from you, crossing her legs once more. Again, she’s the statuesque image of perfection; cracks visible in her foundation, yet devastatingly beautiful all the same. 

“You’ve got the best one,” she sniffles, grasping a piece of cheese and a cracker within her index and pointer. “Stevie is a sweetheart. Always has been. Theobald is hard on him, and I always try to tell him to ease up. The late Mr. Harrington was always so rough on his son as it is without Theo breathing down his neck.”

The late Mr. Harrington. 

You knew very little of him. From what you’ve gathered—the very scraps of things here and there, as Steve never really mentioned him—their relationship, while his father had been alive, was a strained one. His parents had him later in life; a quick Google search would show as much. The heir to the company born with a silver platter before him, wanting for naught, pushed into the limelight. 

Still, hearing Cami talk about Steve…with pity—grief tightens like a vice around your heart. Envisioning those hazel eyes of your husband, staring up expectantly at a man who never saw his son’s achievements for what they were. And now, at his young age, trying to make his late father proud at the expense of his own self. 

Long hours, constant meetings, coaching calls. Pushing, striving, hustling.

With a long sigh, you glance toward the outside patio, where you can see your husband with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. His left hand curls around the stem of his glass, hand gesticulating wildly in the air as he talks with Theobald, hair in disarray. Like he’s been raking his fingers through it. Eyes trail his shoulders next, along the contours of sinewy muscle, then further up where you can visibly see the rigidity in his form. 

“Steve is…” 

Your voice breaks, eyes tipping downward to your bubbly drink in hand. Cami’s fingers curl around your wrist, a sympathetic frown lining her pristine features, and you know she’s thinking you’re caught up in your emotions. But in reality, it’s because there are so many things he is, all of which swirl like a muddied mess in your hazy mind. 

“Steve is a good man. He’s the best man. I’m really lucky to have him.”

When you glance up, there he is, grin gracing his features. It’s plain as day he’s heard you; those stiff shoulders slacken. Tension eases from the curve of his mouth, as well as in the grip of his fingers around his glass. Instead his face morphs into elation, feet carrying him over to where you sit so he can once more slide an arm around your waist and tug you close. 

Theobald regards you carefully in the distance, taking in the way you slide into the crook of your husband’s chest, seeking the warmth of him. The comfort of someone in your corner, seated in a room ripe with scrutiny. 

“Thank you,” Steve whispers against your ear, just as Cami dives into conversation about her and Theo’s children, revealing photo after photo of their adorable faces on her iPhone screen. 

“We’re the Harringtons, aren’t we?” 

He chuckles brightly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

Day shifts into evening.

Conversations drift around lighter topics. Talks of your schooling, your plans for the future, the business you’ve started. A fact which, to your unamusement, Theobald finds more than mildly intriguing when he later corners you in the kitchen as Steve and Cami flip through the photos she had taken at the wedding on her phone (despite Steve’s pitying gazes for you to rescue him). Instead, you’d offered to start cleaning up, knowing your husband and you had dinner plans with another couple from the office. 

“A dog walking business…” He mutters, elbow dropping down onto the counter. “How quaint.”

“It’s extra money,” you say simply, placing a watery glass into the drying rack. “You’re a businessman, aren’t you? Isn’t it better to make all my money now while I’m younger?”

“That I am. And I would agree,” he murmurs, eyes trailing your profile. “It’s just curious since you know how wealthy your husband is. He’s CEO of the company now, and that’s not even counting the hefty inheritance he got as the sole Harrington son. That kind of money is generational. He could never work another day in his life and be well off.”

“My husband is supportive of my endeavors,” you grumble out, training your eyes on the kitchen backsplash. 

“Obviously,” he agrees goodnaturedly. “He loves you. Everyone can see it. All of a sudden our hard working golden child is leaving the office at normal times, running home to his lovely wife. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

Heat flashes like lava in your gut over the revelation that your ruse is working. It’s hindered by Theobald’s latter statement, mind stuttering over his blasé persona. The question as to whether or not Steve knows what he’s doing. Trying to hide your piqued interest, you harden your expression into one of neutrality. 

As your mouth opens to speak, Cami cuts you off with a shrill, “Theobald, they have to get ready for their dinner. We’ve overstayed our welcome. But I would absolutely love for us to do this again!”

Uncertain if you’re happy or sad about this latest development because you still needed further clarity over Theo’s words, you place the remaining glasses into the drying rack and slide your rings back into place, pressing yourself into Steve’s side as he approaches. For a dramatic flair, you even press your left hand to his abdomen, rings glinting in the light, head leaning against his chest as you wish them a wonderful rest of their evening. 

Theobald gives you one last fleeting look just when his wife nearly strangles you in another bear hug, and claps a hand against his younger cousin’s shoulder. “We will definitely have to do this again. It was nice officially meeting you, Mrs. Harrington.”

The doors slide closed and a sigh spills from your lips. Against you, Steve relaxes, hand rubbing up and down the length of your spine idly, eyes still fixed on the doors across from him. Slipping away from him, you quickly gather the rest of the snacks and glasses from the living room table and drop them down into the sink, pinching at the bridge of your nose. 

“Is he always like that?” You wonder out loud, whirling around to face Steve. 

His head jerks at your words, mouth pulling southward. The solidness of his right hip rests against the kitchen counter. You try to not dawdle on the way his bicep twitches as it rests on the surface beside him, nor as his fingers sprawl around the base of his jaw, keeping his head propped up. 

“He’s usually worse,” he admits. “What did he say to you?” 

“Just commented on my business,” you tell him, deciding to ease in with that before asking what his cousin had meant by ‘hoping Steve knows what he’s doing’, moving to place a plate in the drying rack. “He couldn’t seem to fathom how I would resort to the life of a peasant, when I should be rolling around in your endless buckets of money.”

Snorting, he teases, “Someone’s angry.”

“Yeah, and for once not at you, so I’d be thankful.” Your nose wrinkles as he barks out a laugh, head tipping back in his glee. Mirth bubbles up within your belly at the lyrical sound spilling from your husband, the way his cheeks stretch wide on his face, how the corners of his eyes crinkle in his happiness. “I told him I liked what I do. Is that so wrong? I like having my own thing. Just like you have your own thing.”

Without a warning, he turns the water off. Grips your shoulders lightly, turning you to him. “Theo is an entitled idiot, okay? He thinks he runs the company and the world, and anyone who doesn’t live like him is beneath him. Notice how he’s got this constant look on his face of disgust?”

At that, your lips twitch. Steve coaxes it further by shaking you slightly, earning a giggle. “He does kind of look like he hates everyone around him. It’s a wonder he married Cami. She seems sweet.”

“She is sweet. A saint for putting up with him for all these years, honestly,” Steve says, giving you one last shake until you’re wiping your hands off and slouching against his frame. “What?”

“I want a selfish hug,” you grumble against his shirt, face pressing into a sternum. 

“A selfish hug?” You can hear the questioning lilt, the probing in his kind voice. 

Nodding, you step closer. The tips of your sandals meet his leather shoes, hem of your dress spilling over the dark material. Your head shifts just the slightest, ear resting over the curve of his chest, relishing in the warmth of another body. This. Hugging? It’s not new. You’ve been practicing. As odd as that sounds, and though you don’t want to unpack it, since your argument with Steve he’s come home every day and greeted you with one. You’d say you’re pros at this point. 

“And what might a selfish hug be?” He muses, hands coming up to rest against the center of your back. 

“I just stand like this,” you begin, dropping your arms to your sides, letting them dangle at your hips. “And you hold me.”

You can feel the vibration of his laugh against your ear, but his arms tighten around you all the same, holding you in place. Melting into him, you rest in the comfort of his embrace. Merely focus on the sound of his breath pouring in and out of his lungs, the gentle beat of his heart beneath your ear, the brush of his thumb against your skin, soothing you. 

“You’re too much,” he says, but there’s no weight behind the words. Can feel his mouth curling upward against your ear. 

“Thanks, Steve.”

For the evening. For helping you in a time of need. For holding you now. For holding you tomorrow. You’re not really sure you know what you mean. But all you do know for certain is that, when his arms tug you closer, you loop yours around his waist, and your selfish hug becomes a real one. 

-

Lightning streaks the sky. Bright white illuminates your bedroom, then settles into dark once more. A loud boom echoes, rattling the foundations of your home. Jolts your bed, and thus your body out of it. Grasping at your chest, you try to tamper the frantic rise and fall. The rush of breath forcing itself in and out of your screaming lungs, ejected from your dreams into waking so suddenly. 

Another flash sparks your room in a moonlit glow. Falls dark a second later as you brace for the crack of sound that pierces your ears after. Groaning, you grasp the edge of a fluffy blanket on the foot of your bed and curl it around your shoulders, padding through your home in search of the living room, sights set on watching Netflix until you fall back asleep from reruns of your favorite shows. 

Only upon entering, you find you’re not alone. Already doused in colorful light from the episode of New Girl playing on the screen is none other than your husband. Where you’re standing you can see the frames of the thin glasses he wears, the unkempt bed hair at the top of his head, the hoodie pulled over his body to block out the air conditioned chill in the living room. 

“You’re awake…” It comes out hoarse, the rasp of your voice drawing your husband’s attention. “And you’re watching without me?” 

The mock gasp has him moving over on the couch to make space for you, your rear dropping down into the couch cushion beside him. There’s another blanket across his lap, impossibly soft and a pretty navy color that pops against the pale fabric of your carpet. Getting comfortable, you unloop yours from around your shoulders and drape it across your bare thighs, sleep shorts doing very little to block out the chill in the air. Once satisfied, you lean back and watch the chaos between Jess and Nick unfolding on the television screen. 

“What are you doing awake?” you ask after some time. Wince as another boom of thunder rattles the walls of your home.  

“Couldn't sleep,” he says, breaking off into a yawn. “Had a lot on my mind.”

“From dinner or…?” 

Dinner itself hadn’t been stressful—at least nothing that occurred would have alluded to as much. You’d met up at an Italian restaurant with a business partner of Steve’s and the business partner’s husband. Two older men in their fifties, with graying hair and a kindness that radiated from them. Most of the conversation had been of things outside of work, so you’re uncertain as to what might be bothering him. 

“Not dinner,” he confirms, pausing the show on the TV screen. His head rolls back to rest against the plush cushion, hands coming up to press into his face. Slides his palm down the contours, exhaling deeply. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”  

“Oh,” you mutter softly, picking at a nonexistent thread on the edge of your blanket. “That’s fine. I just figured—”

“It’s nothing personal toward you. I just don’t want to bother you with it. Why are you up?” He queries, head turning to look in your direction. 

“You never bother me.”

Steve levels you with a blank stare and you laugh. “I’m not afraid of thunder…but it definitely woke me,” you admit quietly, sounding more than a forlorn without meaning to. “My room gets really dark at night with the curtains, so when it lit up from the lightning I was a little spooked.”

“Understandably,” he says. “Want me to grab you coffee or tea or something?” 

Head perking up, you ask, “Do we still have the camomile? If it’s no trouble, I mean…”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if it was,” he says, but there’s no hint of any condescension there, only his increasingly familiar thoughtfulness.

You lean your chin over the top of the couch to catch the retreating form of Steve’s back swathed in his dark hoodie. “Thank you.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, starting up your warm drink. “Want anything else? We still have those chocolate covered strawberries from dinner.”

“Do you want the chocolate strawberries from dinner?” 

His grin turns wry. “Maybe.”

“Bring them over, you grown up baby,” you tease, extending a hand so he can place the covered plate in your awaiting palm. 

Peeling back the tinfoil, you rest the tray on the coffee table, hiking your blanket higher around your thighs. Steve’s pouring hot water into a mug that says ‘Future Veterinarian,’ humming a familiar tune as he works. 

“You usually do honey and…a bucket load of sugar, right?” 

Eyes roll. “I like a spoonful of honey in my camomile and nothing else. The sugar is for my iced coffees, thank you very much. Also thank you for making sure Hopper always has it on standby lately.”

“What’s that thing you said to me when we first talked about us getting married?” He taps his chin mock thoughtfully, his other hand twirling a spoon around the inside of your cup. “Happy wife, happy life starts with always knowing her coffee order.”

It’s true, and you hide your lips behind your palm at the realization he’d been listening as he crosses the space between you and rests the steaming mug in your hand, muttering quickly, “Be careful, it’s really hot.” 

“Thank you,” you say as he drops back down into the couch and plucks a chocolate covered strawberry off the tray. “I know you didn’t want to talk about what’s bothering you…but I figure…I don’t know. It’s storming out, we’re both not getting much sleep tonight, we could play a game or something.”

“A game?”

Nodding, you add, “An icebreaker. I know we talk more now, but we could try and get to know each other better. A little look into the person we married.”

Your husband shifts on the couch beside you. Presses his back into the arm rest and stretches out, arching a brow pointedly. Smirking, you do the same. Shift just enough so your back is up against the opposite end, your socked feet just barely brushing Steve’s. 

“Okay. Night out or night in?” you ask. 

“Before…night out.”

“Before?”

“Well, now you force me to watch Gilmore Girls.”

“I don’t force you! And it’s only been a few days. I’m sure it’s an absolute horror of spending time with the woman you fake married,” you gasp, feigning terror. “Just admit it. You like spending time at home.”

His eyes are set on yours as he says, “I like spending time at home.”

“I’d agree for myself as well. Life is so busy as it is lately, it’s nice having a space to come back to.” 

One thing you’re very grateful for on a growing list is the space your new bedroom has given you. Sure, it can get lonely, but it’s an escape from the long days, a haven from stress, a bed to crawl back to when your eyes can hardly stay open any longer after a particularly hard day at clinicals. 

“My turn,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his middle. And no, you don’t allow heat to crawl across your chest at the mere sight of his chest and arms flexing from the motion. “Would you rather go forward or backward in time?”

“And what would be my purpose of going forward or backward? Am I rectifying my mistakes? Seeing the future? Looking to see how my life pans out?”

“I…it’s whatever you want it to be.” He blanches. 

“I don’t really have a lot of regrets in life. I make a choice and however the cookie crumbles is how it crumbles. Exhibit A,” you say, holding aloft your left hand, where two rings glint in the dim living room. “So I probably would want to go forward. But that’s dangerous, because if you go too far forward, you might see things you don’t like. I definitely wouldn’t want to know how I, uh, you know? Check out of here. What about you?”

Steve pauses for a moment, brows drawn in thought. “Honestly? There are things I’d want to change about the past, sure. But I think I’d want to see the future. See if all I’m doing is worth it, you know?”

“You don’t think what you’re doing right now is worth it?” You wonder if he’s talking about the business. Assume he must be, but don’t press any further. 

“I wonder sometimes, yeah,” he admits. 

“Well, what would you be doing if it weren’t what you’re doing right now? To see if something else would potentially be worth it.”

He rubs a hand along his neck, shrugging. “I thought about being a teacher once. My dad thought that was a silly idea. But I’ve always been good with children, and I think I could have been good at that.”

“You are good with children,” you tell him, thinking to Will and El. To the friends you’d met at dinner in the past weeks who brought their little ones. “I don’t think that’s a silly idea at all. Not in the slightest, and I’m sorry if anyone ever made you feel that way. Like your interests were inconsequential.” 

“Thank you.” Clearing his throat, he asks, “Movie night or date night?” 

“Are you asking me on a date?” His eyes grow wide at that. Cheeks darken visibly in the moonlit living room. “I’m teasing you, Harrington. I think there’s a case that those can be one in the same. I would say broader…I love the idea of going out for a date, but I love those inside sort of dates more. They’re more intimate, there’s the comfort of your shared spaces, the fact there aren’t any crowds around you. Only that important quality time with your partner.”

“I don’t have much to contribute there, seeing as I haven’t dated much in the past year. And now I won’t be for another three years.” He chuckles, combing fingers through his hair.  

“Okay, this question is super serious.” You fold your hands across your midsection, inhaling deeply, eyes shut. “Would you rather have a third nipple or an extra toe?”

“Seriously!” 

“I’m very serious, Steve.”

“Extra toe.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck again, wincing slightly as he presses into a spot between his shoulder blades. 

Your lips tug southward. “Are you hurting?”

“Just my office chair, I’m sure,” he grumbles, nonchalant. 

“Get on the floor.”

His brows arch. “Huh?”

“On the floor,” you repeat, tapping the space in front of you on the carpet below. “In front of me.”

“Why?” 

“Do you trust me?” 

He doesn’t answer. Instead, long limbs slip off the edge of the couch and settle down where you’ve asked. You move to tuck his hoodie in as best as you can, fingers moving to spread across the slope of his shoulders. He exhales deeply at the first press of your hands in the muscle wrought with tension. A low sigh spills free, head tipping back to rest on the cushion nearest to your knee. Fingers crave to brush the hair along his scalp, to see if he’ll make that same, soft sigh once more. But instead you continue, pressing slowly into his flesh, listening to his cues, figuring out what works and doesn’t. 

“Would you rather have a big family or a small one?” You ask after Steve has gone quiet, thinking back briefly to the moment earlier with Theobald and Cami. 

Steve, with his wishes to be a father. Steve, who wants a huge brood of Harrington babies. Steve, who wants a family. 

And yet it’s not even that. Not the questions as to what he sees for his future. It’s the tangible worry of slipping up in your facade. Of revealing too many cracks in the foundations of your dynamics. That had been the first, and you know if this relationship is going to hold up for three years, communication is a must. Absolute transparency at all times, so as to not muck it all up and land yourselves both in some hot water.  

“Growing up, it was just me. My parents had me a little older in their life. They were already further into their careers by the time I was born. So…it was often just the au pair and myself,” he explains, letting go of another deep breath. 

His body slackens against your knee caps. Warm flesh of your husband pliant beneath your fingertips. 

“I always had this dream of giving my kids the opposite of what I had. Always knowing love, family outings, doing everything with them. Dance class, football, acting—whatever they wanted. And I’d wanted as many as possible. A silly dream of six of them, running all over the world together as a family.”

“It’s not a silly dream. None of your dreams are ever silly, Steve.” 

Warmth pools as Steve slides his hand up and covers yours where it rests against his shoulder. Heart stuttering, you continue, “Your family will be lucky to have you some day. I, for one, haven’t given much thought to that aspect of life. I hope Theo and Cami didn’t find that suspect. I just…”

“Have been busy with school. You’re becoming a doctor, that’s time and hard work. No one can fault you for that.”

“Right. Yeah.”

You resume your kneading, fingers stroking at shoulders, down the sides of his neck, attentive to all the tension. He grows softer beneath your fingertips, head against your knee, his eyes closed. Where you’re sitting you can see the moles on his face, the length of his lashes, the lines of his nose. Pretty. He’s pretty, and it’s always something you’ve known, but being so close—

“Sunrise or sunset,” Steve asks. 

“Hmm, sunrise.” You poke at the middle of his forehead, and hazel eyes meet yours. “That one was simple.”

“I could tell you were overthinking,” he says simply. “We’re not going to be perfect at this marriage thing. But no one expects us to be.”

“I still think we need to get our stories straight at the very least. And I sorta messed that one up with the honeymoon baby thing.” You shrug, palms sliding down a bit onto his upper chest. He’s still sitting there, taking you in with his stare, hand around yours. “Kind of why I suggested this game.” 

He offers you a gentle smile, saying, “Then let’s keep going.”

The conversation continues until the sun begins to change colors. Until the rain has since stopped, voices carrying above the television playing low in the background. You learn Steve’s a romantic; loves movies like the Titanic and The Notebook. And will also admit to enjoying some of the same romantic comedies you do. 

He prefers rainy days, because he enjoys the respite they give from a constantly busy city just outside the walls of your home. He’d rather have happiness than wealth; enjoys chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven for dessert (and you make a note to pick up some stuff to make them on your next planned night together); he’d never had any pets growing up, but he’d love a dog. 

And you tell him about yourself. How you love cozy socks and would prefer scrubs over real clothes; how you also never had pets growing up and would love to adopt and foster as many as possible one day; how you enjoyed fantasy over romantic movies; how you’d watched Titanic about a hundred times in your life and you still cried. 

How you wanted to watch it with him next, and he agreed, stating it would be the next thing you do when you cook together. 

Before long he’s yawning and your eyes are closing. His fingers remain around yours as you knead his muscles, prattling on about your plans for the week, school, your friends. And he talks about his own schedule, his meetings, proposes dinner for the both of you that upcoming Saturday. A cooked meal in, with a movie and some wine. Maybe you tease him a little, because he makes it easy when he blushes that pretty pink, and maybe he grins up at you fondly, eyes hooded in his sleepy daze. 

Eventually, you lay on your side and he remains in front of you on the floor. You’re hardly awake as he drapes a blanket over your form and tucks a pillow under your head, whispering to one another as the sun starts to come up over the city. 

Eventually, both of you fall silent at last, comforting sleep there to find you. 

-

“I want to make it very clear before we go in there that we are not getting a dog. We are donating all the things we bought earlier, and then we are going home and having dinner together,” Steve reiterates for the umpteenth time that day. 

“We are not getting a dog,” you repeat, mock stonily, looking your husband dead in the eyes. 

Clearly unamused, he shoves at the arm you have jokingly curled around his forearm, but there’s no malice there. Only a gentle huff of laughter as he opens his car door and rushes around the other side to help you out. You never need him to, but he insists every time. Even offers an arm for you to grab as you hop onto the sidewalk. Once back on solid land, summer dress dancing around your kneecaps, Steve walks around to the back of the car and lifts the box of pet food, blankets and toys you’d picked up while at the pet store. Today, you decided, you wanted to give back to the local shelter in your new town. 

And maybe you had an ulterior motive of trying to realize a dream of your husband’s by making him fall in love with a shelter dog in a way where his only option is to bring them home to live with you forever. But he’s been adamant all morning—so certain today’s events will not lead to four legs becoming part of your odd little family.

Inside, you’re greeted by one of the workers. A woman named Chelsea rushes around the counter to collect your donations and asks if you’d like to walk around a bit. Steve’s reluctant at your side, sunglasses peeled off and tucked into the neck of his shirt, but he comes along all the same as you grip his palm within your own and drag him along behind you. 

You pass dozens of kittens and cats. Young and old all alike as you go. Some who meow as you pass, and others who linger in dark corners of their confines. It breaks your heart seeing so many, wanting to adopt them all, knowing you’re unable to. Sensing your unease, Steve squeezes your hand tighter and listens for the both of you while Chelsea speaks and your mind wanders. 

“Down here are all our adoptable dogs.”

It’s a sight you never get used to. Dogs barking as you pass, bodies brushing against their cages, yearning for attention. You linger by Chelsea as you walk, rubbing noses and ears and backs. Tongues glide over your palm, wet noses brush your skin, dark eyes hold yours through metal bars. Somewhere in the midst of introducing yourself to all your newest furry friends, you find Steve’s hand is no longer in yours. Turning on the heel, you find him crouched low to the ground, fingers curled inside metal bars, softly speaking to the animal hidden within. 

“Oh,” Chelsea mutters, shock evident in her tone. Steve looks up to her imploringly, then glances back at the dog inside. “That’s a new arrival. A ten month old male Bernedoodle. He’s a black tricolor puppy. His previous owners got him as a gift, and turned him over when he started getting bigger. They’re a smaller breed, but have a lot of energy and unfortunately you see a lot of this happening. People buy luxury pets and drop them off when they become too much. He’s been very timid since he arrived.”

“He just lost his family,” Steve says to no one, swallowing thickly. The woman at your side doesn’t speak, only watches as your husband continues to gently coax the puppy forward. “Hey buddy. I’m Steve. Wanna come over here? No?” 

“Should we…” the woman beside you begins. 

“Yeah, let’s give them a moment,” you mutter, a little breathless as you turn around and face the other direction, quiet footsteps carrying you further away. 

But you still hear it. 

Still hear Steve’s voice in your ears. A sad, “I know what it’s like. Feeling left behind, left alone. Especially from the people you want to love you most. But you don’t need to be afraid of me. I get it.” 

There’s an echo of soft paws padding against a tiled floor. And the soft exhale from Steve. “There you go. See, I’m your friend. I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid.”

And when you and the shelter worker turn around, you find Steve with his fingers in the puppy’s fur, that pink tongue of his brushing over the inside of your husband’s wrist. That resolve in Steve’s eyes crumbles, your heart shattering along with it as you press the heel of your palm to your sternum. 

He turns to Chelsea and asks, “Can we take him out? Just for a minute?” 

Chelsea passes you a knowing look and that minute Steve requests turns into an hour in the yard outside of the shelter. The puppy seems hesitant at first, lingering near Steve’s thighs as you stand nearby. But once Chelsea hands Steve a frisbee and ball, it’s as though the puppy is sparked to life once more. Soon enough he’s frolicking around the field, playful yips streaking the summer silence as he retrieves his toys and rushes back over to Steve, paws pouncing playfully against your husband’s designer jeans. 

But he doesn’t care. 

No—you haven’t seen him light up like this in the nearly three months you’ve been married. The joy illuminated his features. The crinkle of his eyes at the corners. The belly laughs as the puppy eventually knocks him to the ground and demands belly rubs on the grassy floor below. He falls in love before your eyes. With no warning, impossibly fast, and so suddenly it comes as no shock to either you nor Chelsea when he asks about adoption. 

As you sit in the lobby with the puppy on a leash on the floor, you turn to Steve, grinning widely. “You said we weren’t getting a dog.”

Steve pats his new fur son’s head and grins as the dog tips his head back to look longingly into his new father’s eyes. It’s sickeningly sweet, and does things to your insides that makes you feel hot all over. You chalk it up to the shoddy air conditioner system, tugging at the neckline of your dress to let the air chill your slick skin. 

“I couldn’t leave him,” he says, brushing fingers along a furry ear. 

“He picked you.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Fond. Smitten. He’s so in love it’s ridiculous, and all you feel is affection. 

Affection. 

Towards your husband. 

New. But maybe not so scary. 

You lean down to pet the puppy’s neck. He jumps up and scrambles up with his front paws against your lap, licking a broad stripe along your chin. “Steve, we have a puppy.”

Your first pet. 

His, too. 

“Yeah,” he says, but he’s only staring at you. You swallow. “I guess we do.”

A few questions and references and a small adoption fee later, and you’re both the newest proud parents of your still presently unnamed new puppy who pokes his head in the front seat as you drive to the nearest pet store in search of all the things you’ll need to make his transition as simple as possible. 

Steve, ever doting as he is, grabs the leash as soon as he helps the little guy out and greets you as usual on your side of the vehicle. You spend the better half of the afternoon purchasing things for him. A dog bed, food, toys, a new collar with his name and address engraved into it. 

Charlie Harrington, you both eventually decide, when the cashier asks how you’d like it engraved. 

Charlie Harrington, who the doormen at your apartment building immediately fall in love with as you later walk in, you holding the puppy’s leash this time, and Steve trying his hardest to carry all the things you bought. 

Charlie Harrington who bounds happily into your home and immediately starts sniffing around in his new space, excited to simply be around people who love him in such a short span of time and want to play with him like he deserves.   

“I’ll get started on dinner, if you want to show your fur child around the house,” you tease, laying out Charlie’s shiny new bowls on the floor, and the basket of toys and bones you got for him in the living room, right by his bed beside it. 

“You are a sneaky woman,” he jokes, coming up behind you in the kitchen. 

Heat blooms where he rests his hand on your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek like it’s something he’s done before in the confines of your home, with no one looking. So casually, and yet stark in contrast to the riot of butterflies that stir to life in your stomach. 

“And why might that be?” 

“Played that ice breaker game with me, found out I never had a pet, and then brought me to a shelter…where I then got a pet.” 

You shrug, turning on the stovetop to let the water boil. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you’re welcome. Now go—play with him. I know you’re itching to. You’re like a little kid on Christmas right now. It’s kind of cute, Harrington.”

“Thank you.” 

He smacks another kiss to your cheek, his face pink from your compliment, before rushing into the living room where you hear Charlie barking as he’s once again joined by his new best friend. You reach over to tap Steve’s phone, where Spotify is already open from the car ride, and hit ‘play,’ Leon Bridges the background music to your cooking in the kitchen and Steve’s laughter as he crawls on his hands and knees to rub Charlie’s stomach on the floor. 

Perfect. 

It’s about as perfect as a day could be. 

And later, as you sit together in the dining room, with Charlie sitting patiently in the corner, and talk about the evening, you start to think maybe being married to Steve Harrington for three years will be a little more difficult than you imagined it would be. 

Because the feelings stirring in your chest are beyond that of friendship. 

No—there’s a suddenness to the clarity of your realization that you like your husband. And the sinking reality that this is merely transactional. 

In three years you’ll go your separate ways. Just as you both intended months ago at that coffee shop table. 

“You’re overthinking again,” Steve points out, reaching over to center your engagement ring on your left hand. His thumb lingers over the diamonds. “I was telling you about the benefit gala in a few weeks.”

“Oh,” you mutter tiredly. “Sorry. Yeah, uhm, I’ll go. Obviously. It’s part of our arrangement.” 

“If you don’t want to go with me…”

“No, I’ll go,” you say, taking a sip of your wine glass. “Black tie dinner event, I’m assuming?”

“Buy yourself a new dress kind of event, yeah.”

“Okay, yeah.” 

You nod. 

It’ll be October. 

Approaching four months into your agreement. Time is already flying. 

“Our first big event as a couple outside of our wedding,” you state plainly, gathering your things and Steve’s as you rise to your feet. He grabs the wine glasses and follows you down the hall to your kitchen, dumping all your dirty pasta plates inside. “Anyone I should know or be aware of when we’re there?”

“It’s a lot of partners in the company. Some celebrities, actors, musicians, models. Eddie will be there—he’s been invited. It’s a little bit of everyone. This time they’ve organized donations for a shelter for homeless youth in the city.” He hands you your wine glass, peering into your eyes. Noting your lingering hesitance from your overthinking once more, he continues, “I can cancel you as my plus one. Say you’re not feeling well—”

“No,” you place a hand on his sternum. Pause when you realize what you’ve done. He trails his eyes south where you touch. You don’t move away. “I love the purpose of the benefit. I want to be there. I-I want to go with you.” 

“Good,” he says, stepping closer. You could reach out and touch the outline of his jaw like this. The lines of his perfect nose. “Because I want you there with me.”

You don’t miss the way his stare lingers on your face, or the timber of his voice. The darkness in the depths of his eyes. How the weight of his chest against your palm as he pushes forward has it stuck as a barrier between the two of you. Mere inches of separation. 

It’s confusing, maddening, and terrifying all the same. 

Two years and nine months. 

You’ve got this. 

-

-

[authoreetea]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬

pairing ; conrad fisher x reader

summary ; the three summers that connected you to conrad

warning ;

note! lover inspired 😛 i tried something new and wrote it in reader's pov or your pov, hope u like it!

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

🩷🎀

The coastal town of cousins was alive with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore while the salty sea breeze brushes through my hair, it was the beginning of summer and I wasted no time going to the beach of cousins.

I sat there on the sand, reading cheesy and cliche romance books that twelve year old me longed for such love, which was then interrupted by a group of guys laughter.

I looked up to see three boys, one with curly hair, another with black hair and pale skin. Yet all I cared about was the boy with light eyes and messy hair.

With his messy hair and sunkissed skin, and the way the sun shone in his eyes. The way he pushed his glasses up every time it kept slipping off, or the way he runs his fingers through his hair.

I was shocked when they all walked towards me. I looked up at them confused, "Hi?"

"Hi, can you join us? we were about to play catch but we're short one person, and Conrad here was too shy to ask." The one with black hair asked, receiving a nudge in his rib.

"He thinks you're pretty! What's your name?" The curly haired one exclaimed, he seemed to be slightly younger than the other two. Red rushed to my cheeks as the two bicker in front of me.

I smiled at him, my cheeks red as roses. "I'm y/n, what about you guys?"

The three boys introduced themselves, the curly headed one as Jeremiah, the dark haired one as Steven.

Conrad, as I'd come to know him, he shared the magic of Cousins beach with me on all three summers we connected.

🧸🖼️

The summer when I turned 15, unfolded like a delicate dance between Conrad and I. Underneath the starlit sky, at beach bonfires and friendly gatherings, our eyes met in fleeting glances.

Cousins beach became a place where I visited every summer, thanks to my father and his intentions to bring some fun into the family. Conrad became my best friend since then, so did his family.

It was a battle in my mind everyday as I had developed a crush on my best friend, each day at Cousins it grows. Our feelings danced around each other with each step echoing each other's unspoken thoughts.

It was a really hot day at cousins beach and you were dying to go out and buy some ice cream. Just as you were about to call Belly to buy some, your mother stepped into your room.

"Hey honey, Conrad's downstairs, I think he wants to go to the boardwalk." She says with her warm smile that always insinuates something else.

I try to pretend annoyed and roll my eyes but my red cheeks and smile gives it away. "Stop with that look, you always do that with Conrad. I swear we're just friends, mom." I say, but my mother knew better.

"I didn't say anything, sweetie!" She says, laughing at my expense. I bid my goodbye and walked downstairs to greet Conrad.

He was there, by the living room with his tousled hair and a white tee and khaki shorts. He smiled up at me, adjusting his glasses as he walked his way to where I was.

"Hi connie, you ready to lose at all the games?" I grin, teasing him. He laughs at me as he ruffles up my hair.

"You wish, sunny." he said proudly as I swatted his hand away from my head. The nickname was something he created the day we watched the sunset together as I read him my Pride and Prejudice book.

I like that he keeps the memory close to heart the same way I do. Conrad was always thoughtful, he wasn't great at communication but he showed it in ways many couldn't.

At ring toss, Conrad was determined to win. Our tongues were stained red and blue from the slushie and snow cones we've had through the afternoon.

"Congratulations! You have won a price, which one would you like?" The guy said in a monotonous voice as Conrad finally won a game of ring toss. He thinks thoroughly before choosing the cutest little bear with a pink ribbon stitched by its ear.

He walked his way to where I stood and handed me the light brown bear with its pink ribbon. He sheepishly smiles, "Here, I got it for you."

In that moment I almost melted in a puddle of admiration. "Really? Thank you, Connie!" I said gleefully

He grins at my reaction, unbeknownst to me that he was giving me such an adoring look. "It reminded me of you, you know, with the way you always have a ribbon in your hair."

That alone made me feel all warm, Conrad is observant and he recognizes everything around him, and he noticed the ribbons in my hair.

🍒 🌅

I felt that this summer would be different. I wanted to make it different.

This was the summer I would admit to my feelings and tell Conrad, my best friend, that I was in love with him. I've read books about falling for your best friend, and I hoped it wouldn't ruin our friendship.

It was the night of the fourth of July, everyone was celebrating. Susannah hosted a lovely gathering at their house, and I had planned to confess to Conrad this summer.

Conrad was the one constant in my life, he was always by my side. His presence became a steady anchor, that makes everything in my life a little bit better.

Our group, the younger people, all went to the beach and had a little get together. Secrets were spilled, so were alcohol, and laughter was shared.

Conrad was right next to me, he had his arm over my shoulder as Steven told a funny story from the country club.

"You should've seen his face!" Steven says, and everyone laughed louder. Taylor played some music and ushered everyone to dance, and of course Steven was up in a heartbeat, inviting Taylor to dance with him.

I smiled at them, winking at Taylor. Conrad stood up and grabbed me to stand up. "Hi, dove." He said, a mere whisper.

We were so close to each other that I almost threw up, luckily I did not. "Connie, do you want to dance?" I say, eyeing him with a playful smirk on my face.

He chuckles, "I wanna talk." He said, a smile playing at his face.

It was night time, 24 minutes past nine pm of July fourth, a summer I will never forget.

"What's up, Con?" I say, brushing the sand away with my feet as I waited for him to say something.

"Look up, the stars look really captivating tonight." He says, but he wasn't even looking at the stars.

looking up, I smiled. "It really does."

"Just like you."

With that, I almost gave myself whiplash when I turned to look at him with reddened cheeks and wide eyes.

Conrad chuckles, as he reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through mine. "You know, the last few summers have been something special, hasn't it?" He pauses, looking down at our hands.

I nod, a smile forming on my face as I held onto his hand.

"Each day I spent with you I felt something more different, something that I can't quite put into words." He says, slowly inching towards me. I could feel my pulse quickening.

I sheepishly smile at him, "What do you mean, Conrad?"

He smiles, his hands coming near my face to tuck the stray piece of hair on my face. "I mean... I've fallen for you." Conrad says

His ocean eyes were staring into my soul, unknowingly our bodies were getting closer and closer.

I looked up at him, my eyebrows furrowed together. He continues, "I've fallen for you head over heals, y/n/n."

I took a deep breath about to say something when colors of red, white, and blue were in the sky.

Fireworks, I smiled. I had the biggest grin on my face as I looked at Conrad again, cupping his cheeks and pulling him into a kiss.

He was shocked at first but then quickly kisses me back, his arm entangled around my waist.

"I've loved you three summers now, Connie. And I want them all."

[hoodharlow]

Used to Be

AN: yes I delete this when it flopped 🤭

Requested? No

Warnings: elopment, angst, a mini me revelation, a proposal, and mentions of break ups. Overall mess 🤭

Word Count:

2016

“Until 2003, you needed blood tests to get married?” Urban exclaimed, reading out loud a brochure for getting married. 

“Yeah, you know how whites are. Always marrying their cousins.” Naya commented. She glanced over to Jack and Sydney. “You're sure you're not cousins right?”

“She was the only witness available?” Jack asked Sydney. 

“Yes,” Naya answered. “I'm also the only one who won't tell a soul. If your parents find out you two are getting hitched, you're both dead.”

“I think I saw a vending machine down the hall. Let's get snacks.” Urban motioned Naya to follow, leaving Jack and Sydney. 

Jack relaxed in his seat and reached for Sydney's hand. “Do you think we're making a huge mistake?” He asked her. 

“No, do you?” She asked back. 

“No.” Jack shook his head. “I love you so much, Syd. I've known since we were ten and you hit my head with the tetherball.”

“It was an accident but I'm glad that it made you come to your senses. Because I've loved you since you stole back my latest copy of The Series of Unfortunate Events from Miguel Casillas in fourth grade.” 

Jack chuckled and pulled her to his chest. 

Sydney hugged him tight, sighing contently. It wasn't how she imagined herself getting married when she was playing with Barbies growing up. But it was perfect. She had the man of her dreams at her side with their best friends. Sure they were barely eighteen and fresh out of high school but they loved each other and that was all that mattered. They didn't have much when they moved from Louisville to Atlanta other than their love, aspirations, and support for each other to keep them going. The rest could come later once Jack was settled in Atlanta. 

For now his parents think he's just visiting Sydney during her summer bridge program at Georgia Tech where she was going to study architecture like her late father. Jack didn't apply to any schools. It wasn't in the books for him. His dream was to be a rapper. He was pretty decent at it. With the connections he had back home that led him to Atlanta, it wouldn't be long for him to get signed. He knew a radio host back in Louisville that sent his work to Atlanta to a producer from home that worked with some huge artists he was a fan of. He had everything going for him. From being minutes away from marrying to the love of his life to working on his music. 

Jack and Sydney have been together since their sophomore year of high school. Though they've known each other for way longer than that. They went to the same elementary school and were always seated together because of their last names (Harlow and Harris). When her dad passed away from a car accident, he was at her side cheering her up when she was down. He was always someone she could count on. 

“When I get my first break I'm buying us a huge plot of land for you to design our home.” Jack said, twirling one of her curls with his index finger.  

“Can it be in Louisville? I don’t want the paparazzi up my butt when you're famous.” Sydney said, pretending to shield herself from paparazzi. 

“Where else would we raise our soccer team? Also the only person that's gonna be up your butt is me.” He huffed out his chest.

“If you're up my butt how are we gonna have kids?” She asked playfully. 

“Fine, I'll be up your butt on special occasions.” he gave in. 

“Okay,” she laughed. 

Jack wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, kissing her temple. They talked amongst themselves until it was their turn to go up. A woman in a button-up and trousers walked out with a clip board along with a couple a few years older than Jack and Sydney. The groom was dressed in a formal marine uniform and the bride in a simple sundress. Under her dress was the outline of a small bump. 

The woman with the clipboard looked down and read outloud, “Harlow and Harris?”

“That's us.” Jack said, squeezing Sydney's hand. “Forever and always?”

A bright flash burned his eyes. Jack closed his eyes and blinked until he regained his eyesight. He was brought back to the present. To his engagement photoshoot. 

Jack’s knee began to lose sensation with how long he’d been on one knee. 92830 pictures later and they were finally finished with the shoot. He never thought he was going to spend almost a full day taking pictures of his engagement for some magazine spread. Hell, Jack wasn’t even sure he was going to remarry after his divorce with Sydney. But it was the next step for him and Mallory, his fiance. 

Mallory is the niece of one of the higher ups at Atlantic Records. Jack met her at a networking event a year after he signed to Generation Now. He never paid her much attention after that. But if they ran into each other he would say hi. It continued like that until the night his debut album came out. His team went all out and had a huge celebration. 

Jack had to hand his phone to Urban because he was tempted to call Sydney and show her that paid off in the end. He didn't, he wasn't that cruel. He just spent the night drowning his sorrows with tequila and champagne. The following morning he woke up with Mallory next to him. From there they've been inseparable (he couldn't get rid of her). He grew accustomed to her presence and liked being around her.  When she wasn't shoving her phone in his face for her content. When people found out about their relationship, Mallory banked on it and grew a following for her pottery and sculptures. Did people actually buy her artwork? No, but she had over two million followers and that was something for her. 

“Baby, do you want to see the pictures Gianni took?” Mallory asked him.

“It's fine. I'm sure they came out great.” Jack answered. 

He went to his dressing room where his friend and family were. They were there for the proposal but once Mallory started talking about outfit changes and the photographer she brought. 

“Hey,” he said, hugging his mom.

“Hi.” She said curtly. 

His mom wasn't the biggest fan of Mallory. Mainly because she was best friends with Sydney's mom, Miss Esther, and they still talked. They had a brief falling out when Jack and Sydney divorced but according to his dad, they became best of friends once again a few years ago and they would hang out a lot. Jack wouldn't know, he tried his best to never mention them or when they were over at his parent’ place for dinner he'd avoid visiting. But here and there he would ask his mom about them. Maggie made it obvious that she still hoped that he and Sydney would try again now that they're older but that was never going to happen. Especially with how Jack ended things with her. 

“Look mom, I know you're not Mal's biggest fan but we're getting married and I want you to try to be nice to her.” He said. 

“I've never been rude to her, Jack.” His mom said, sipping her flute of champagne. 

“I'm not saying you are or were. I just want you to be more accepting or at least pretend to be. She's going to be my wife.” Jack said frustrated. 

Maggie's ever present frown turned to a straight line, which was a grin in Jack's books. “I have to get going. I'm meeting Esther for something.” 

“Could you hold off telling her about this?” He gestured around them.

“Baby, you're at the bottom of the list of talking topics we have. Don't worry about it.” She smiled sweetly. 

She motioned to Jack's dad and they bid Jack goodbye. Jack went to Mallory who was busy going through the pictures with her friends. He sat with her and pulled her to his lap. She met his gaze and smiled. Jack smiled back. He looked over to where his parents were and felt a shiver go down his spine. He felt uneasy and couldn't figure out why. 

Jack's friends left not much after. They agreed to meet up again for the Louisville soccer game. Jack reserved a suite for them as a way to celebrate that he was engaged. Mallory's friends that flew in went back to the hotel and Mallory was meeting with them for a girls night. They had a few hours before that, so they decided to check out some houses. A new private neighborhood was hosting an open house. 

There were two rows of various gates and fences with no end. They passed four fences when Jack finally pulled up to a house. He parked on the side of the street next to other cars. He opened Mallory's door and helped her out. 

As they made their way to the house, a gate from the house across the house they were going to see opened. A black Mercedes pulled out and parked in front of the small mailbox. That didn't get Jack's attention. The house in the gate did. It looked exactly like the house Sydney would talk about designing for them. He let go of Mallory’s hand and went to get a closer look. 

“Jack, where are you going?” She called after him. 

He waved her off and crossed the street. Just as he approached the house, the gate closed. He looked over to the Mercedes but the windows were dark. He couldn't get a good look unless he shoved his face in the window. A little boy got out of the car followed by a guy several inches shorter than him. The little boy shoved a small key in the lock of the mailbox and grabbed a small box, leaving.

“It's here!” He held up the box triumphantly to the guy. 

“That's great, but we're running late. Your grans are waiting for us, mate.” The guy said in a New Yorker accent. Sensing Jack, he turned around. “Oh ‘llo? Are you here for the open house? If so it's across the street.” 

“I am, but I by chance saw your house and–”

“It's my cousin's house.” He said. 

“Oh, sorry,” Jack began. He cleared his throat. “Do you know who designed it for your cousin?”

“My grandma has pictures of you at her house.” The little boy said, also cutting off Jack.

“Oh thanks.” Jack said, a bit confused. 

“I wish we could chat, but we have to get going.” the guy said. 

He opened the backseat for the little boy. Jack noticed someone else was sitting in the passenger side. He couldn't see their face but he saw a head full of curls similar to the little boy’s. 

“Bye.” The little boy waved at Jack.

The guy nodded at Jack and got in the driver's seat. They sped off and the uneasy feeling he had earlier returned. His stomach churned, but Jack brushed it off. He crossed the street back to Mallory.

“What was that all about?” She asked.

“Don't worry about it, let's go see if this is our future home.” Jack said, placing his arm over her shoulders. 

He looked back once more at the house before going inside. 

*

Jack couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling and it got to the point that he was irritating people around him. He couldn't enjoy the game because he was so distracted. He felt some familiarity when he saw the little boy. He had the same hazel eyes as Sydney. He silently cursed himself. Sydney is the last person he should even be thinking about.

“Yo, is that mom?” Clay asked Jack in a quiet tone, bringing him back to the game.

“What are you talking about?” Jack frowned. 

“There.” His younger brother pointed to the bottom row of the suite across from them. 

“I can't see that far.” He said. 

“You came to a sporting event and sat yourself in the way back knowing you can't fucking see?” Clay shook his head.

He pulled out his phone and zoomed in to where he was pointed at. Lo and behold, it was their mom. Most importantly the little kid that Jack saw in the neighborhood was sitting on her lap and they were sharing a tray of nachos and a hotdog. A seat behind them was Esther, Sydney's mom, and Jorge, her step-dad. 

“Why is she sharing nachos with that kid? In my twenty-two, almost twenty-three years of life, mom has never bought me nachos.” Clay said in disbelief. 

“Those are Syd's parents.” Jack told him.

“Damn Miss Esther is still fineass-OW!” He rubbed the back of his neck where Jack smacked him. 

“That's my mother-in-law, don't be weird.” 

“Ex mother-in-law.” Clay corrected him. 

Jack held up his finger to tell him to be quiet. He pulled out his phone and called his mom. They looked through Clay's phone camera as their mom looked at her phone then hung up. A message came through seconds later that her hands were full and that she'd call him later.

“I bet her hands are full, sharing nachos with some kid and not her son.” Clay mumbled.

He ignored Clay as he went on about how he used to use his birthday money at the concessions stand because their mom never bought him nachos. Jack snapped a picture of their mom and the little boy, sending it to his dad. His dad saw it. The three dots appeared then disappeared. From Clay's phone he saw his mom look at her phone then scan the stadium. Her eyes landed on her sons. She pushed off the little kid and told Esther something before getting up.

“Come with me.” Jack said, pulling Clay from his seat.

“Where y'all going?” Urban asked them. 

“We'll be right back.” Jack said.

They left their seats and walked to the seats their mom was sitting at. They found her pacing and texting frantically.

“Mom, what–”

“Why are you eating nachos with some kid?” Clay beat him to the punch.

“What are y'all doing here?” She asked them, annoyed. 

“What are we doing here? What are you doing here? And with Syd's family?” Jack asked her.

“It's complicated. We'll talk at home. Why don't you go back to your seats.” Maggie said.

“Mom, what's going on?” he asked her. 

“Maggie, what's going on? My mom was–” a voice Jack never thought he'd hear again. 

“Syd?” He said softly.

“Oh my god! You're Jack Harlow!” A girl, a few years younger than Sydney, squealed.

It took Jack a second but it was Sydney's younger sister. She was eight years younger than them. He didn't recognize her. The last time he saw her was right before he and Sydney eloped. 

“Nina, let's go inside.” The guy from the house said, pulling her away.

“Holy shit, Sydney. It's been forever.” Clay said, pulling her into a hug.

“Hey.” She smiled at Clay. 

Sydney took a step back and stood behind Maggie. The door abruptly opened. 

“Mommy, where are you?” the little boy said. He looked at Jack then to Maggie, pointing. “Gramma, that's the guy in the pictures in your house.” 

Clay threw his arms in the air. “What am I, chopped liver?”

*

Sydney tapped her pen against her desk. She was stressed out of her mind ever since she saw Jack at the soccer game. After three years of living in Louisville, she finally ran into him. Part of her was proud of herself that she was able to avoid him for that long. The other didn't know how to feel. She was scared out of her mind though. 

She never planned to tell him that he had a son, Jaden. She didn't even plan to tell his parents, but they found out a month after she moved in when she was dropping him off at her parents. Sydney had just graduated from Georgia Tech and was working at her grandparents’ (her late dad's parents) architect firm. She begged Jack's parents not to tell him. After how things ended she wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn't like she needed him. She made good money working with her grandparents and she had her own trust fund. Jack's parents help around but she never took any financial gifts from them. She doesn't even know what she's going to do know that Jack knew.

When Jaden popped up at the game she left. She had her bag with her so just scooped up her son and bolted out of the stadium. Since then she's been on high alert, looking over her shoulder in case Jack popped up. He already knew where she lived.

The phone on her desk rang.

Sydney pressed the answer button. “Yes?” 

“Miss Hart, your nine am is here.” the firm's receptionist said. 

“I don't have a nine am.” she said into the speaker. “Hello? Clara?” 

Seconds later there was a knock on her office door. Sydney got up and opened the door. Behind Clara was Jack. 

“And here's miss Hart's office.” the receptionist gestured to Sydney. She turned to Jack, fully taking him in. “Would you like anything to drink? We have still water, sparkling water, soft drinks, juice, coffee and tea as well as danishes, croissants, doughnuts, and muffins.” 

“I'll take your hottest tea.” Jack smiled sweetly at the sixty-something receptionist. 

“Sounds good. If you'll excuse me.” Clara said, leaving them alone.

“How the fuck did you find me?” Sydney asked him, closing the door behind him. 

Jack took a seat on the dark purple couch. He picked up a picture frame of her with her dad's parents from her college graduation. In her arms was their son. He couldn't be more than a year and a half. 

He turned the frame to her. “You're not that hard to find. Your grandparents own the biggest architecture firm in all of Jefferson County right here in Louisville. I thought it would've been a more neutral place than showing up at your house.” 

“Jack, this is my place of work.” 

“I want to meet my son.” He said, dismissing her previous comment.

“He's not your son. He's my son.” Sydney sneered. 

“You had no right keeping him from me, Syd.” he snapped at her. 

“You don't get to be upset, Jack. You don't get to waltz into my job and demand shit from me.” She jabbed her finger at him. “You wanted the divorce. You wanted an out because I was holding you back. But ironically enough you were too much of a coward to tell me. You had to get your little fountain entourage to do it for you.” 

“Syd, I don't want to but I will take you to court.” Jack warned. 

“I'm sure your fiancé would love to read about your ex wife next to her unsold engagement announcement cover for People magazine. Congrats by the way.” She smiled sweetly. 

It hadn't even been a week since they took their engagement pictures when every newsstand and grocery store stand were filled with them. Jack was annoyed because he wanted to wait a few weeks to announce it. Mallory and Neelam rushed it to the stands. 

He reached for the stack of sticky notes and pen. He scribbled something on the baby pink post-it then got up. 

“You have three days to decide if you let me meet him or I'll get my lawyers involved.” He handed her the sticky note. “Here's my number. I'll be waiting for your call.” 

His phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his cargo pants. Sydney saw ‘Neelam’ on the caller ID and rolled her eyes. She and Neelam never saw eye to eye. Most of the animosity came from the fact that Sydney was married to Jack. When they finally called it quits, Neelam was the most excited to see it happen. Her Cheshire cat grin had as Sydney signed every NDA and contact would be forever imprinted in Sydney's mind. 

“Your fucking job was to keep tabs on that shit… How could you miss the most important document? Send it fast so we can get it resolved.” He hung up without another word. Jack rubbed his temples. He looked at Sydney and sighed. “Turns out we're not divorced.” 

 

[inlovewithregencyera]

Elmsworth House, July 4th, 1818

After the proposal was made and the friends and family wished their congratulations to the new couple, the party migrated to the drawing room for some entertainment before the evening was concluded. Helena asked Aurelia to enchant their guests with her refined singing and musical talents. She was reluctant at first, mainly because she hadn't sung in front of Frederick in almost two years, but she did it anyway. As Aurelia's fingers gracefully danced on the harpsichord keys, the notes that escaped her lips left Frederick enchanted by the beauty of her angelic voice. It was like a melody had echoed through the chambers of his heart. All he could do was think of was their last summer spent together, as he tried to hold back tears from the bittersweet memories they shared.

♫♫♫!!!!

♪That now lie sleeping, softly, softly, now softly, softly lies sleeping♪

♪Sleep is a reconciling, a rest that peace begets♪

♪Doth not the sun rise smiling, when fair at evening he sets♪

♪Rest you then, rest, sad eyes♪

♪Melt not in weeping, while she lies sleeping♪

♪softly, softly, now softly, softly lies sleeping♪

*Loud applause*

Ashley: Lord Worthington?

Frederick: What, Mr. Ramsbury?

Ashley: I asked if you were alright-

Frederick: *sniffling* Why wouldn't I be?

Ashley: Well m'lord, it's just that your eyes are wateri-

Frederick: *wipes eyes* I have no idea what you were referring to Mr. Ramsbury.

Ashley: ....

Laurence: *whispering to himself* Dearest, sweetest angel, how come you've graced this earth with your talents along with my heart. For I know I can never have you-

As you belong to him.

Peregrine: Oh she's done excellent.

Helena: I know! Our dear niece has a voice that would make the angels in heaven weep.

Peregrine: And Lord Worthington...

Helena: *trying not to laugh* Oh hush old man!

Emma: Oh mama! How I wish I could sing like Lady Aurelia.

Elizabeth: You have other talents to make up for that my dear, do not fret. I'm sure your harp skills will have you married off by the end of May!

John: Don't say that.

Elizabeth: Oh John!

William: You should delight us next with your singing, my sweet Martha.

Martha: But I want to sit here and gaze at you and imagine our future together.

William: We'll have a nice little townhouse in the heart of Willowfax. But during the Summer, we shall move to a country house in Henford where our children can go and visit their grandparents every day.

Martha: Oh, how grand!

Patience: Grand indeed! *finishes wine glass in one gulp*

Ashley: My dear, that is your fifth glass! Shouldn't you retire the wine-

Patience: Only after I play my song!

Peregrine: Patience I'm not sure that is a good idea considering the state you're in. You can barely stand up straight.

Helena: Oh dear, please do listen to Mr. Ramsbury and your husband!

Patience: Oh but ma'am, my song will ease my nerves.

Ashley: Oh dear!

*Frederick starts rising from his seat*

Ashley: Oh dear cousin, please, take my seat. I believe I need to be up waiting for my poor wife in case she needs my assistance!

Frederick: *whispering* You sounded lovely.

Aurelia: *whispering* T-thank you.

Frederick: May I speak with you later tonight?

Aurelia: Yes, yes certainly.

Frederick: Meet me in the woods, behind the house once everyone is asleep. Bring Sarah, just in case someone sees us.

Aurelia: Alright.

This made Aurelia more anxious than usual as recurring memories came to her head once more. She and Frederick used to sneak out late during the Summer of 1816 when he was staying with their family at their summer home in Brindleton. They used to enjoy each other's company and stroll along the beach whilst holding hands. They of course could never be intimate or physical in public, as it was considered scandalous, so when they had time to themselves they would hold, and hug each other as long as they could. She had been craving his touch and embrace for the past two years, and truth be told, she still loved him. She never stopped loving him, and now that he was in her presence again she felt her love for him grow stronger than it had been once he was away.

♪♪♪

♪Did you not hear my lady, go down the garden singing♪

♪Blackbird and thrush were silent to hear the alleys ringing, oh saw YOU, not my lady, out in the garden there♪

♪Shaming the rose and lily, for she is twice as fair♪

William: Well she's slightly drunk, but this song is quite heartfelt! Her voice is exquisite, but nothing compared to your cousins.

Martha: Yes..indeed.

from the beginning | previous | next

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta if i held an intervention for my cousin?

strap in bc this is gonna be long, but first i need to introduce this little cast of characters: I (26f), my sister (23f) and my cousin (22f) are literally the only young ones in my family. my fathers siblings never married, and i have only my mother's sister (50sthF) who has married and also has a kid. so this made us kind of close since we were kids, especially my sister and my cousin (due to their close ages) were always together. we did live far from each other, and could only meet one or two times in a year.

my cousin and my sister have ocd. i have depression. we all have anxieties. my aunt and my mother both have anger issues, so we kind of can guess what kind of house my cousin is living in. and also from what we could see during our short visits. so yeah, we're all fucked up, but ever since i started therapy and forced my sister to go as well, things started to change. my cousin kept making excuses about money issues, and not really needing any therapy, but her ocd started spiraling down very quickly after her cat got sick last year (we'll get to that soon).

so here's where the problem lies: my cousin has ocd, and needs to constantly ask for approval. she also has severe separation anxiety, to the point that she cant even think about a family member or her cat dying. and see, i get that! we also had beloved pets who died and honestly it still fucks us up, but she is getting delusional about it. god forbid we mention that the cat is now an old lady, or say that shes not as sharp/agile as she was before—this makes her cry immediately. also her ocd is very focused on her cat: she thinks she can carry diseases to her cat, she gets hysterical if we change our clothes near the cats bowl, asks everyone repeatedly if sth unrelated might make the cat sick. shes also of the belief that if someone uses an insect spray, then the poison will stay there till she goes to that place and carries the poison to her cat and making her sick. we kept explaining to her that if the sprays would work like that then we wouldnt suffer from a serious ant infestation for the third year in a row, but as it goes with ocd, she just cant accept it. she only believes what her mother says, and well. her mother gets agitated Very Quickly and they start fighting which makes everything worse.

usually id interfere and tell my aunt to just get along with my cousin as shes going through therapy and medication, and i saw it first hand on my sister that it takes time for ocd to get calmer. its not like oh u started therapy? why arent u already performing like a mentally healthy person?? this is what i suffered from when i first started my therapy. but my aunts main issue isnt her ocd. the ocd is par for the course—the main problem is that my cousin never helps around the house.

we knew this, since we have been together forever, that my cousin never works. she complains a lot, even snaps if u ask her to do two things at once (even if its like hey check the kettle and btw put this glass in the sink as well). and my aunt has zero tolerance for her attitude, which leads to her doing the chore herself and well this kind of encourages my cousin to get away from the chores by complaining. she was like this ever since we were KIDS. she'd play with us and make a mess, but when we were supposed to clean everything shed either not do a thing (saying "i dont know how to" even to simple things like put the thing in the basket) or shed just. vanish. whenever we ate lunch or dinner, shed immediately go to the bathroom, and come out after everything was cleaned and washed. and before u say there might be sth else, it really wasnt. she even admitted to it later. she just didnt want to do a single shit. and well, now that shes older, its getting kind of upsetting. whenever she's alone at home she does NOTHING. and when my aunt comes back from her trip SHES the one who has to clean after my cousin, even tho she has just arrived home. this is why no matter how much she asks us to go stay with her when shes alone, we never go. bc we dont want to clean after her. or when she comes over to our house she just. barely does a thing.

this is taking a huge mental and physical toll on my aunt, bc shes physically disabled (severe migraines caused by a bubble in her head, and recently due to her bad workplace her right hand and arm are also not doing well), and even tho she kind of brought this on herself (but indirectly encouraging my cousins behavior), its still really upsetting. whenever we go to their house, my sister and i try to shoulder a part of chores, bc 1) our aunt shouldn't have to do everything by herself and 2) we were taught to help. my parents never had any tolerance for us slacking off.

cut to last week when we went to their house, and it was a huge war zone. my aunt kept shouting at my cousin for things that werent her fault (like her asking for approval or complaining about sth someone did), and on the other hand my cousin kept dodging the chores, and when my aunt asked her to do ONE thing she kept snapping at her and complaining like it was a huge deal (it really wasnt. example: my aunt asked her to put her clothes which she had already folded and put on her bed away. my cousin snapped at her that she would do it and she should get off her back and then kept complaining that her folded clothes arent bothering anyone and she shouldnt be forced to put them away. this is not an exaggeration.) i also realized that part of the problem with their relationship was how my cousin kept complaining about everything to my aunt, which makes my aunt go insane bc she needs a break from the negativity, but my cousin is very clingy and would call her multiple times a day just to bitch about sth. and hey, i also bitch about things to my mother, but i dont call her that much when shes/im away, and also i try to balance it with good fun stories. i know my cousin isnt like having a very bad life, she just likes to complain about everything. but this, coupled with her insistent need for approval, and her clinginess, makes for a bad recipe.

so, when i finally had a private moment with my cousin, i told her that she needs to do chores, and this would do wonders to the current tension! i said this very gently and very quickly bc i didnt want my aunt to overhear us, and my cousin started crying and nodding and said she would try. this made me feel a bit calmer about the whole situation, until the next fucking day when my grandparents came to my aunts house and my cousin, u guessed, did nothing to help my aunt. at one point my sister found her kissing her cat instead of setting the table, and it made us both extremely mad.

i think that gently talking with her wont do good, bc she'd probably do the same thing again. i feel like i need to be more stern and a little bit harsher to hammer the point home, bc apparently she doesnt understand anything unless its shouted at her. im not gonna shame her or anything, im just gonna say that she needs to a) continue her therapy (which she has dropped for 5 months) b) take her pills regularly (which she doesnt) c) enforce a clear boundary between herself and her mother no matter how close they and d) do the chores. if she doesnt do these stuff, then she wont be able to get any sympathy from me, and my sister. also cant complain about it anymore if she's not going to do any fucking thing to improve her situation.

so, wibta?

What are these acronyms?

[truthseeker-blogger]

Today is exactly one year to the date of the deck collapse.

My apologies this will be long. It was quite the year, and for those wondering what transpired, here it is as best as I can recall.

I first awoke this morning with a leg cramp and looked at the clock, it was 4am.

One year ago, I took Justice out onto the deck at 4:30am, exactly two hours later at 6:30am, the deck let go when Matt and Justice went out onto it and our whole world changed.

The week prior, the husband of the couple we are staying with, was playing his guitar, along with Matt on this deck.

Weeks before the deck collapse, my son who I hadn't seen in 21 years, brought his wife and my two grandsons to visit, and we were all on this deck together, many times during their visit.

Just a quick recap of the last year:

September 7th - deck collapse - emergency room

My boss had me in tears, telling me to show up at work the next day, everyone is dependent on me to be there, even though it's a federal law to be able to stay home to care for a family member (FMLA) and I quit.

October - Matt's doctor visits, MRIs, and physical therapy. He needs meds for PTSD, as the floor feels to be moving out from underneath him .

Landlord tells us not to worry about anything. (my third cousin's wife)

Call my bank about being late with car loan and was told there is nothing they can do to help us.

They then mailed us a notice that with the next late payment, we would not receive notification of any action they may take.

November - 1) Notice to evict - landlord wants to 'condemn' the building.

Sought and obtained legal counsel.

21st) My son hits his head and has a concussion just before Thanksgiving.

Matt and I go both go to counseling to discuss the stress and trauma we are experiencing.

Sell any possessions we possibly could for money to move or to survive on.

December - 4th) Called 911 to bring my son to the hospital because he is incoherent.

4 years prior, while trying to make extra money in his first year of college, on a temp work assignment, my son was pushed off the back of a truck, broke his hip in three places, hit his head on pavement and has memory issues, so any further head injures are concerning.

Son is hospitalized for three weeks. He has heart issues while in the hospital, but that gets stabilized. He is home for in time for Christmas.

January - Served papers by a constable to appear in court, with body attachment like we are criminals.

February - Go to court and if we aren't out by March 31st, we would owe back rent.

March - We searched for campers/RVs to live in, as well as year round campgrounds which were limited as well as booked.

Found many fraudulent ads for RVs, and we could not

get into a new RV because Matt didn't have two consecutive paystubs.

Justice is registered as an Emotional Support Animal (ESA)

20th) Matt's shoulder surgery - they had extreme difficulty controlling his blood pressure and he's in a state of hypertensive crisis. (278/148)*

I'm told to monitor him at home, as well as get a blood pressure cuff to make sure his blood pressure is going down.

If not or he has slurred speech, bring him to the ER asap or call 911.

30th) Move out with the help of Matt's daughter and fiancée and I, as Matt watches, feeling helpless he can not assist

April - Matt continues physical therapy when we have the money for it.

May and June - We're settling in, while Matt continues physical therapy and I visit my son daily to assist him.

My son would not accept outside care and our state does not pay caretakers.

14th) Matt returns to work on limited duty, but is sent home after 15-20 minutes most days when there isn't work he can do in his limited capacity.

June 25th - altercation with new dog upstairs and I injure my thumb.

July - Justice - vet visit to ensure he is ok, with follow up visit 3 weeks later.

While I have an injured thumb, Matt tries to walk Justice, and Justice bolts across a parking lot, and Matt looses his footing as he is trying to control almost 100 lbs of muscle, (Matt hadn't walked Justice in over 9 months) and falls face first into the pavement and into a tire of a vehicle. I call 911 and they come to check him out. His wounds heal miraculously rather quickly within a week or two.

13th) Matt has a cancer screening due to extremely low white blood cells. Relieved to find out Matt does not have cancer.

August - Purchase a dehumidifier due to noticing mold and having to throw out electronics, bedding, clothing, dog beds, etc.

Matt is back to work full time, his forklift license is reinstated, but available forklifts go by seniority, and there are several other senior workers ahead of him.

Matt is still losing occasional days of work due to his shoulder still being sore. Daily he ices his shoulders.

The cortisone shot on his other shoulder wore off and we both agree he can not withstand another surgery, so another cortisone shot is in order.

GRATEFUL FOR:

Being alive

Together

A roof over our head

The food pantry at the church

Church on Sundays

New beginnings

Great supportive friends, here on tumblr

Thank you all for your continued support and love!

🙏🙏🙏❤❤❤

With much love and gratitude,

@truthseeker-blogger 💞💞💞

[swapauanon]

Okay so, I don't know how many of my followers read the webcomic "Erma", but I figured I'd just mention this little theory of mine:

Half of what makes Erma so weird is that she's half yokai.

The other half of what makes her weird is that she's autistic.

In the third strip of Erma #1 (titled "How Rude"), we see Erma shriek after her classmates start arguing around her. Watching her facial expressions shows her getting more uncomfortable than mad, with her gripping her head before doing her horror movie monster shriek.

The next time we see Erma do this is when her cousin, Emily, is visiting in "Episode" 105: "Latched". In response to Emily's boundless energy being a bit more than Erma can keep up with, our protagonist gets increasingly frazzled (not even angry, just overwhelmed), until she finally repeats the same shriek she hadn't done since the start of the series.

In both cases, while she might also be angry, the shriek seems to be more of a response to her being overwhelmed by sensations that she's experiencing too quickly to process, and experiencing a (more or less completely involuntary) meltdown in response. Heck, her Super Powered Evil Side is triggered by sensory overload induced by the voices of hundreds (if not thousands) of damned souls inside the jubokko (that creepy tree with all the skulls), which could imply that the red eyes have less to do with her being ANGRY (although that is a factor) and more to do with her being in extreme pain from too many overlapping voices at once.

There's also the fact that she doesn't always seem to have the best reading on other people's tones, as seen in the "Secrets" arc, where Felicia's playful teasing ends up upsetting her just as much as Widdle Wallace's genuinely malicious taunts.

There's also the fact that Erma, in spite of enjoying playing the horror movie monster, REALLY seems to dislike sudden loud noises, as seen when her parents are watching football together and Erma's reaction to them yelling at the refs through the screen is to huddle up in the corner of the room.

Also, while Erma is a kind and genuinely compassionate little girl, she doesn't always have the best read of other people's feelings, as seen by the fact that she doesn't seem to realize that her teacher is absolutely TERRIFIED of her. Or how she doesn't realize how removing her own head as part of a freestyle dance could horrify all the onlookers who are NOT used to her antics. As seen by her reaction to the aftermath of her (completely involuntary) rampage at the end of the Night Parade Arc: while she may enjoy scaring people, she doesn't want to traumatize them! So it's entirely likely that she just straight up doesn't realize how badly she's scared her homeroom teacher, and would probably be DEEPLY upset if she realized it.

Finally, there's the fact that we have yet to "hear" her speak. While we know she CAN talk, thanks to other characters, the fact is that she seems to be extremely nonverbal, preferring to let her actions (body language, gestures, and facial expressions) do the talking for her. While the decision to never have her speak on page may have been to just take a horror movie monster trope and play it for cuteness instead of horror, I am still gonna take it as evidence because everything else fits pretty well.

[hchollym]

What do you think about the headcannon of Percy being a Prewett instead of a Weasley?

Context: During the first war the Prewett twins, Gideon and Fabian were in a safe house with five other adults. Molly was somewhere else.

Anyways one of them (I picture Fabian but it doesn’t matter which) had a short thing with one of the others there and eventually lead to them becoming pregnant. A couple months later baby Percy is born but his mother dies from the childbirth, since giving birth in a dingy old house, cut of from the rest of the world, in the middle of nowhere, with no medical equipment and no one with any proper medical training is not the best thing ever.

Percy grows up in the safe house with them, with no one to visit them, except a few Order members who come to give updates on the war. Molly and Arthur don’t even know Percy exists.

When Percy is five, death eaters storm the safe house.

He’s the only one to make it out alive.

He’s also too young to clearly remember much, so not wanting him to go through the grief of growing up without parents, Molly and Arthur decide to adopt him. Also, unrelated but Percy is about 3 years younger than Charlie and about 5 years younger than Bill.

-🌻

*rubs hands together excitedly* I have a lot of thoughts about this, so get ready for a long rant.

Do I think it's canon? Probably not. JKR has a nasty tendency to make it very clear when someone is part of a found family (instead of just writing them as family).

What do I mean by that? Well, one example is the Epilogue:

“Our Teddy! Teddy Lupin! Snogging our Victoire! Our cousin! And I asked Teddy what he was doing— ” “You interrupted them?” said Ginny. “You are so like Ron— ” “— and he said he’d come to see her off! And then he told me to go away! He’s snogging her!” James added as though worried he had not made himself clear. “Oh, it would be lovely if they got married,” whispered Lily ecstatically. “Teddy would really be part of the family then!” “He already comes round for dinner about four times a week, said Harry. “Why don’t we just invite him to live with us and have done with it?”

I know Lily is a child, but JKR wrote a pattern of people "needing" to marry someone to officially be part of the family (such as Harry marrying Ginny & Hermione marrying Ron).

Because of this, even if Percy was Molly & Arthur's nephew, I still think JKR would have made that obvious in the books at some point.

Even if Percy was 5 when he moved in with Molly & Arthur and didn't remember anything about his life before that (which is possible), Bill is actually closer to 6 years older than Percy, while Charlie is closer to 4, which would make them about 9 & 11 when Percy was adopted. They definitely would have known the truth, and while they may have never said anything about it, it's unlikely that it was a secret that everyone would have been able to keep from Percy indefinitely.

As a result of Percy finding out (at some point), it probably would have come out during/after the argument, because it would have been natural for Percy to have conflicted feelings about it, particularly when Arthur is acting like Percy would betray his own family, and it's likely that someone (Fred, George, Ron, etc.) would have piggybacked off of that afterwards because they were hurt that Percy left.

That being said, Harry is an incredibly unreliable narrator, so it's definitely still possible!

Now, do I personally enjoy the headcanon of Percy being Fabian or Gideon's child? Yes. I think it's a super fun concept to play around with, and it gives a lot more depth to all of Percy's interactions with the Weasleys.

Even if Percy didn't know the truth for a long time, I think he would have subconsciously remembered another parent (because he was 5 when he was adopted), so he probably would have had some confusing feelings that he didn't fully understand and didn't talk about.

It adds layers to Percy's desperation to be accepted by Arthur, Molly's pride in him & her devastation at him disowning the family, his position as the least favorite Weasley, his break from the family unit, etc. I also tend to think Fabian was Percy's father (out of the two brothers), which adds yet another depth to Molly giving Harry Fabian's watch when Percy was away from the family.

It makes some things from canon even sadder for Percy, but I find it fascinating to think about how it fits in with the complex Weasley family dynamic. And even though the Wizarding World is very different from our own, there are plenty of situations in our society where children live with their grandparents/uncles/aunts/etc. (and sometimes that works out well, but sometimes it doesn't).

I would personally love to see a story where Percy learns about his birth family and comes to terms with what it means to him to be a part of the Weasleys (particularly since Molly & Arthur failed Percy in many ways but undoubtedly loved him).

Let me be very clear so that no one misunderstands me: I do not want Percy to "represent" what adoption looks like (nor do I think he does). Every family is unique and different, and I just want to explore Percy's experiences.

However, I do not like the idea of Percy's mother dying in childbirth. I have a strong hatred of the Dead Ladies Club (which I believe was a term started in the A Song of Ice & Fire community, because GRRM has a tendency to kill off all of the mothers in childbirth).

This is not an insult to you, anon. Is it a realistic possibility for the situation you're describing? Absolutely. I just personally would rather his mother not be a part of the picture for other reasons (such as not feeling ready to be a parent or not wanting to be a parent at all, having mental health issues particularly with the war going on, etc.).

Anyway, this went on way too long, but I do enjoy talking about this idea, so thanks for the ask! 😊

Anyone else have any thoughts on this headcanon? I would love to read them! 😄

[hel-phoenyx]

Willy and Lan Yue belong to @noa-de-cajou !

_________

"Pssst, Emerens-"

He's standing next to me, so awkward in his costume that's not supposed to be worn by seven years old children. We had to be very slick to not be noticed by mom or his dad, because they don't like us playing together ; it is why he stills speaks on a low tone, even now.

I turn my head towards him, still amazed at how similar we look. He's my cousin, but we share so much physical traits people sometimes mistook him as my brother. Mum and uncle hate it.

"yea ?"

"I saw Elvira getting out of her room and I have Carlijn's suitcase. Let's go dress up."

He asks me to dress up a lot. We both like this game. Elvira's dresses suit him, better than they suit me, and we have fun going through mom's makeup palette. Once I did his nails, and I never saw a bigger smile on his face since.

So of course I'm gonna say yes.

Who am I to say no to a smile?

***

"So this is not a phase ?"

We are sitting on my hospital bed. Elvira and Carlijn brought them in complete illegality to see me, and I know from the countless missed calls I am still hearing from my sister's brand new phone that it is gonna be nasty when they all get back, but I feel the selfish inclination to still be happy. I see so few people during my recovery.

They are looking at me, anxious, while I am telling them about all the people I talk to in the geriatric pole of the hospital. Gay people, trans people, and so many other words I wasn't aware of.

When I talked about some of my favorite stories, the ones of the girls that are boys that are neither and that are happy, they told me they were feeling this way too, and weren't sure if it was normal. So I could tell them of the people who discovered that is was.

I shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe. I'm not in your head. i'm just telling you there are people like that."

"... I thought I was the only one, that it wasn't normal to... Not feel that your body is your body. Or that it was, but not like this. It's complicated..."

"Yeah, I didn't get it at first, either. You want me to introduce you ? Mr Hunchausen is adorable, I'm sure he would be happy to talk to you too."

A tiny smile grew on their lips.

"Yes, please."

***

"My name is Willelmien, by the way."

We met for Christmas, like every year. I'm back from Saint-Cyr, feeling the weight of the first year without Thibault, and seeing my cousin is probably one of the biggest if not the only joy of those holidays.

Her hair is a bit longer, as long as someone who appears as a boy could wear without nasty looks. It looks nice on her. I want to let mine grow too, but mom never agreed. She says it's unprofessional.

Hearing that made me smile.

"New name ? It's cute."

"Thank you, thank you. Also, look at this !"

She shows me her hand, hidden under a winter glove she didn't bother to remove before now. Under it is fingers laced with a beautiful ring, adorned with a splendid green nail polish. It matches our eyes.

"Wow ! It looks so cool!"

"I bought it myself, she said, brimming with pride. I saved all my Christmas money for this, but it was worth it. Mom and dad can't see it, tho. Please just pretend I'm cold if they ask."

Fair enough. Mother and father wouldn't like that either. I remember the time they caught me in the bathroom holding mother's lipstick. I will never forget father's stern lecture about how boys don't play with makeup. I can undernstand why she didn't want to be a boy anymore. Can girls be more left alone about that?

This is not only at home, though. Saint-Cyr is worse. We can't hug, we can't kiss, we can't laugh. And I miss my friends so dearly.

I really hope she won't live the same thing.

***

I landed in the hospital again. This time for an entirely different reason.

Everything hurts. I prefered when it was nothing.

This time I can't roam around free, or talk to people, or listen to stories. I can only read in my corner, too much in pain to pick up a pen again, and too unstable for visits. At least that's what they said.

The doctor still comes by sometimes, tells me he found a good edition company for my book, that they promised to read it in behalf of their good relations to the hospital.

I miss them so much.

But as much as I want to see her, I hope for nothing more than the fact she isn't in that hospital.

***

How many years has it been ?

I grew up so much since our times together. We weren't older that twelve when I said my goodbyes, and years later when I finally landed in France, I expected it to be forever.

And yet, after "van Heel, Emerens" the list calls for "van Heel, Willelmien" and there she is in the gymnasium, taller and leaner and so much happier than last time we saw each other. She heard my name and my Ultimate too, and she is searching in the room, too far away for me to see her face but yes not enough to miss the frenzy in her movements.

Finally, our eyes meet. And on her face appears the biggest smile I have ever seen.

Mine is probably the same.

***

Hope's Peak is both an enter towards future and a jump back in the past. I indulged in both during the past week, meeting new people, making new friends, and making up for lost time with my most beloved, my Sharon that, too, grew up so, so much.

And now I am with Willy talking about what has been, and she laughs when I mention my first attemps to play an electric guitar, funny enough for me to land my first time with a girl. People already know us as "the siblings of the school". I do nothing to correct them.

We sit on that bench near the sakura trees. After my exposition of pride about my books and my musical talent, all the art I let myself thrive in after all those years, she boasts about her skills in make-up, care and all the things that earn a woman the title of socio-esthetician.

"And grandma promised to pay for all my hormone replacement therapy," she says with that huge, sunny smile. "She doesn't understand a lot about transidentity, but she is so much better than the other old fucks. Living at her place really was an upgrade, you have no idea!"

She does not talk about how she landed at her maternal grandparents, as I do not talk about Saint-Cyr. I know that she knows, and she knows that I know. There is no need to open up old wounds. I hide mine too well under bands, and her under makeup.

"Old money paying for transness, best revenge ever, right ?"

I wink while saying that, and she laughs.

"Oh, fuck yes. Sadly that's not the van Heels', that would have been a huge slap in dad's face. But, eh, good enough. Still, can't depend on them for everything. I'm out of the will for sure now, and soon enough I'll have to earn my own shit..."

"Need some help in the meantime?"

A fist come hitting me right in the shoulder, his strenght countered by a hearty laugh.

"Oh come on, I do not need another trust fund! Don't worry about me, I'll manage. But I appreciate it, though. One of those days, when I'll be broke, old and unable to work, I'll aim for your bank account, pinky promise!"

That's the kind of promise I do not want to see broken.

***

"Say, Willy, how do you feel about having a girlfriend ?"

My dearest cousin sighs dramatically for the third time this day.

"Oh, please don't ask me! I'm DESPERATE for a relationship, and I can't spend my life in nightclubs like you do, I'll never get to your level of hoeing!"

"Woooooow. Ru-u-u-u-de!"

"Oh don't be sad, Rapunzel, no one can whore around as well as you do. But back to the matter at hand, why do you bring that on the table?"

I smile, albeit mischeviously.

"I want apologies or I'm not telling~~~~"

Acting like a little shit does earn you good things sometimes, but right now my only victory is Willy pulling on my hair. Not quite a victory per say, but hey, I'm laughing, and she is too.

"Oh come on, I know you take that as a compliment!"

"I do, but the condition still stands, Willelmien~"

"Fine, fine, I'm sorry, you little bitch. Now tell me, you made me curious."

"Good enough."

I stop on my tracks, noticing the silhouette of a splendid young girl, sat on a bench with her laptop. She taps on her keyboard completely ignoring the sunlight, only stopping in her tracks to put back a strand of blue hair behind her ear. Her clothing, not quite fit for january, show off a lot of her stomach, probably the source of protection against the cold. And the looks of countless starstruck ladies, including, I noticed earlier, my very own cousin.

"I have this friend that complained about not finding a girlfriend earlier in the week, and I happen to know a very single girl that could be very interested and is right in front of me..."

Willy burst into laughing.

"You wanna set me up a date ?"

"Not quite, not my job to do all the talking, my dear. But I was considering putting you two in a situation where you could talk, and maybe it would lead to something more... Well, not that something more," I add when noticing Willy's wink. "She's asexual and from what I know, sex is absolutely out of the question."

"Oh, I don't care, I want a girlfriend, not a hookup. Well, I hope she isn't fully exclusive, though. I can bear just fine, but van Heels and sexuality, you know..."

"Oh, I know too well. But she may be your ideal girl, because she's polyamorous as hell. So? Interested?"

I know her well enough to recognise that gleam in her eyes.

"Of course I am. Never thought my cousin would find me a date, the wonder of the world... Sure we're gonna hit it off ?"

I let out a laugh.

"I am never wrong in that kind of things."

And as always, I was right.

Because seeing Willy's smitten smile the morning after, holding Nako's phone number written on a beautiful note in one hand, is enough to lighten my whole week.

***

On the other side of the phone I hear a gasp in astonishment.

"You're coming over at the mansion for Christmas?"

"Elvira asked me, I grunted, trying to hide my frustration. I would have said no, but she already asked the old fuckers, so now I guess I'm expected. Never thought this would happen again, and yet..."

Silence takes place one second or two. Before Willy sighs in the mic, static ringing in my ears.

"I guess that's a good opportunity to convince her to get out of here. She missed you, you know. You may be able to make her realise this is not an environment suit for neither of us."

"That's what I thought. And afterwards, I'll go right to Louna's anyway. Her father is bedridden because of an injury and she wanted to be there all holidays, so I'll spend more time in the family-in-law than those other old bitches..."

Not that I ever wanted to see either of those old bitches ever again. The birth givers, the second roles, Leonard still being a rat and Carlijn probably searching for the best way to annoy her parents without paying attention to us.

At least I'll meet Annelies. From what I've been hearing, she's around six and very much not neurotypical. She'll need someone to gift her dinosaurs until she gets tired of that specific interest, because I'm sure as hell no one with money except Willy would try to listen to her.

And maybe I'll have the occasion to talk to Mareva.

Maybe.

My silence must be revealing, since the phone is not enough to mask Willy's worry.

"Hey, man. If you wanna talk about it, you can. And I promise I'll do what I'm able to for you to spend at least an okay Christmas. I know all the ways to sneak out from that rotten house."

"Don't get yourself in trouble because of me, tho..."

"I'll get in trouble for my very nature, Emerens. Let's get in trouble together."

Somehow, that is the most reassuring thing I have ever heard about that godsdamned Christmas.

***

"What the actual FUCK ?!"

I grit my teeth. Willy's reaction is exactly the reason I left her out of this, including the whole family trauma and a big ass lack of time. But I had to warn her at some point why we got a completely trauma Elvira staying at Lan Yue's, and also probably why I think they're gonna fuck in the next days or months depending on the situation and I'm not happy about it.

"Yeah. Father went too far this time. i thought he was a goddamn doormat, and yet..."

"This is not going too far, Emerens, this is goddamn illegal. Please tell me you're taking them to court."

"Oh, I will. But not now. I'm giving her, and us, time to recover. We need that. All of us."

Willy clenches her jaw, and sits down next to me, anger still plaguing her face. She is angry after my fuckers of parents, I know that, but that look in her eyes tell me she's also angry at me, and looking back, she has every reason to.

Still, there is no animosity in her attitude when she throws her arm around my shoulders.

"Fuck. This is insane."

"It is. Sorry for keeping you out."

"I am not happy about it, but I understand. This is high-level rich people fuckery. Nobody would involve someone on their own volition in there, even family."

"Especially family."

A sigh escapes my lips, and I let myself lean against her. I won't lie and say I do not need the contact. That was an awful week for me. Productive. But awful.

We got Elvira out of here with enough grounds to get her at least a restraining order against them, or at the very least a serious dent in their reputation. She won't ever return there, and I have one less reason to spend Christmas at the van Heels'. I finally managed to put words on what happened back at Saint-Cyr to another person than Senri and my therapist, and that person is my sisters' crush and one of my best mates.

Still, I feel like I've been dragged to the bottom of a garbage dump. Probably look like it, too.

Luckily for me, Willy does not push further. In place, she smiles, before poking my nose with her long-nailed finger in a classic Willy tease.

"And now Vivi stays at Lan Yuyu's flat? Lucky her."

I roll my eyes so hard I swear I saw the back of my very filthy brain.

"Oh please don't remind me, I am tired of being the overprotective little brother. I've just been so anxious all this time when I heard about their crush on her."

"Why anxious ? We are talking about LAN FUCKING YUE!"

"I know! Imagine if it was anyone else, my heart wouldn't handle..."

"Pitt-bull that you are, Rapunzel. I know she just got out of a very abusive environment, but she'll be fine."

"Yeah, we can only hope."

Because I want to see her fine. I want to see her happy. And Lan Yue can make her happy, I know that, I trusted him with my secrets and I would trust him with my life. I can trust him with my sisters.

I just don't want to lose her again.

Neither of them.

***

The call in the middle of the night took me by surprise, but when I see Willy's name of the screen, I have no choice but to respond. We do not leave family astray. At least, a specific part of family.

Sharon is sleeping next to me. So my first reflex is to rush to the bathroom, the most silently I can, before answering the call.

"Hey, Willy, are you okay-"

I'm cut short by incoherent stammering. Oh, for that nonexistent god's sake, I think she's hyperventilating... Is she having a panic attack ? why is her voice so far from the mic of the phone ? Jesus fuck, if only she wasn't currently in Amsterdam visiting her grandparents, I would have tried to reach her asap, I can't leave her like this...

I hate feeling powerless but in that situation, I can only try and take control of the conversation so she's grounded to something. Jesus Christ.

"Willy, I'm not going anywhere, take a deep breath. There. focus on my voice, okay? Whatever happened, I'll listen, I promise, but i won't be able to help if I don't understand you."

"Emerens-"

She takes a big breath. Her voice gets a little steadier, but I can still hear the anguish.

"I have a half-sister."

Whatever words I had in stock just end up stuck in my throat.

All I can do is hear Willy tell me about how her world ended crumbling.

***

A half-sister. Of course that was expected to happen. Mother noticed, Mareva noticed, of course I noticed my uncle was not as faithful as he appeared to be. It got worse after the old fucks moved to retirement home, when he just stopped caring about gaining something from being good.

I'd never have imagined it was bad to the point he didn't even take precautions.

She's called Rosaline. Pretty name. History student, around Justen's age. The daughter of a maid of their house, probably very young if I judge by the pictures. I wager she was about twenty when that motherfucker knocked her up.

When she reached out to Willy, it was to connect. But also because she heard about the family feud and wanted to drag her asshole father to the mud. So we're gathering proof for the most nasty divorce ever. With maximum consequences for my bitch ass cheater of an uncle.

And now I'm with Willy to meet her because she wanted nobody else around. Maybe because it's not my first trial against a van Heel, I know the drill. Or maybe just because she needed support. Who knows.

"This feels so weird," grunted Willy rubbing her hands against one another. "I'm meeting a sister I never even heard about months ago, and we're doing that to fuck up my parents marriage."

"No offense, but Diederik fucked his own marriage, not us. By fucking other people in his wife's back."

"None taken, and you're absolutely right, that ass had it coming. But it's still weird."

I let out an ironic laugh.

"Think about it that way, Willy, he fucked to much, and now he's gonna get fucked. Karma always comes to bite you in the ass. You can't fuck without being fucked. The eternal cycle of fuck..."

"Says the bottom."

"Bitch I'm a switch?! And I certainly don't want you to find out!"

"Oh, ew, please, no! There is enough incest in this bloodline already!"

We burst out laughing, and that is enough to forget even for one moment the situation we're in.

Family stick out for each other, huh. I didn't think that would happen again in my lifetime, and here I am, happy to be of the same blood of someone.

[yapcarms03]

A DECADE AND NINE YEARS OF JOURNEY

My life started when my mother was rushed to the hospital. At the hospital, I immediately came out of her womb due to my excitement to begin my journey in this world. I was born at 10:22 in the evening of July 3, 2004. At birth, I weighed 3,300 grams. I had dark brown eyes and no hair.I have five sisters, and I am the fourth one. By the time I was 11 months old, I had learned how to walk. I don't actually remember my first birthday, but I remember my third birthday. It was so special to me that day. I can still remember when my father bought me my first bicycle and my favorite food of all time, and it was palabok. Ever since my father bought me a bike, I've always been thrilled to go to the basketball court, and there I practice biking with my father. When I was 4 years old, I learned how to bike with two wheels. 

During my middle childhood, my life was full of wonder, imagination, and traveling. Every summer, we used to visit my lola house. I'm always thrilled to see my lola aunties, uncles, and cousins and eat delicacies like laing, bicol express, tinapa, pancit bato, and kinalas; however, my extremely favorite is laing and bicol express, especially more spicy. As far as I can recall, me and my cousin always play in the backyard and climb trees to get mangoes, but my cousin climbed these pili nuts, coconuts, and Spondia purpurea (sininguela) trees because I can't climb very high trees. We used to fetch the ducks and pegions, feed the chickens, and clean the stinky cages of the pigs. At the back of the house of my lola, there is a huge rice plantation, and I always like to go there because I can see the splendid view of Mayon volcano, and there I can smell the cleanest air far away from all those pollutions. At that time, even when the sun is out and so hot, I always want to go out there and chill by the beautiful view. It was my ultimate favorite place to hang out with me and my cousins, and there we would harvest the rice plant and put it in a sack of rice, and we would sell it and earn money. I have always been an adventurous, curious, naughty, rascal,and no-bounds girl. Every time we have to go back home,I cry and hide. I always wish summer would never end.

In my teenage years, I've become interested in more adventure stuff. This time, I learned how to drive a motorcycle and got into more accidents. I also learned the basics of skateboarding, which is why I have a lot of scars, especially on my knees. In my teenage years, I also learned how to swim. On my 18th birthday, I learned how to dive and fell in love with cliff diving. I had two best friends who were in my neighborhood. We promise each other to be together forever. They are my childhood best friends.We always used to play Chinese garter, catch ball, patintero,hide and seek,biking on the side of the road, playing computer games, and lots of fun stuff. We used to buy and eat barbecue, ice candy, and ice cream, and buy junk food and soft drinks in the other store; even though we do have a store,it's just that my father will not allow me to eat unhealthy food. We used to hang out in Cafe Namo, SM, and other places. Somehow, the longer our friendships became, the more toxic they became. At the end of the year 2021, December 31, it was night, and suddenly I was contemplating whether I would fix our friendships or end them. I'm an idiot who is terrified to have a conversation with them, which is why my only option is to Gost them. I know it's wrong, painful, and cowardly of me, but I must do it. For a profound reason, in the year 2024, we bumped into each other. And it was totally awkward. She smiled at me, and I smiled back. And she asked me, How are you? I responded, I'm good, and she responded, Oh, that's nice to hear. She actually asked me if I wanted something since we bumped into the store. I said no, thanks. She says okay, and then we go both ways.

I am almost in adulthood. A variety of emotions and experiences define this crucial chapter of my life. I discover valuable life lessons and grow in self-discovery. I am so grateful and proud of myself, despite all the changes and highs and lows I encounter along the journey of my life. And yet here I am, still not giving up. Each day of my life, I'm getting more courageous, resilient, persistent, and determined. And I am always encouraging myself to be open to every opportunity and to never stop learning. As well as never losing hope in the dreams I'm still striving for. Because I know I can be more, I can travel to the places where I want to be, and that's 195 countries. I want to try a variety of foods and cultures in every place I go. I want to try new and adventurous things, like exploring caves, surfing in Siargao,skydiving, scubadiving, riding a hot air balloon in Cappadocia, shark cage diving, swimming with dolphins, going to the Amazon River, where I want to see a real piranha, hiking to Machu Picchu, or going to the Van Gogh Museum. And so on. That is why I need to be wise in terms of how I spend my money, learn to roll the money, and work hard to achieve this bucket list of mine. Lastly, my ultimate goal is to build my parents house near nature. I know this can all be unrealistic, but hey, we never know what our lives are going to be. Because if we did not have all these dreams and goals in our lives, we would be all missirable and lost in life.

[lesless]

glowing, growing 🔮 🍀

It is gently dropping small, delicate flakes of white outside & the air is so still, quiet, like a whisper. My love took the dog & headed out to a town 2 hours away to meet his father so he can spend tomorrow working on an initiative that may prove to be a wonderful investment of time/energy/etc., but not without quite a lot of work first. I am proud of him in a lot of ways, but I will miss him. I do enjoy my down time though, so I will make the most of it.

I had planned on meeting up with a friend tonight after she had dinner with her sister, but neither of us wanted to do much once the sky grew grey & it began to snow. I wrote a list of what I want to do solo tomorrow--tea (I need to reign back my coffee consumption, again), journal, breakfast, eat, go to yoga, get a juice from the place next door to the studio, a bath with the bath bomb I bought at the botanical gardens. Then, get some work done on the photo and/or writing project, buy some yarn to make gifts, write xmas cards, then maybe meet up with that friend I missed today. It sounds like a great solo day, exactly the kind of thing I like to do! A little chill, a little activity/movement in the A.M., a little productivity, a little shopping, a little fun.

It is funny that since I sorted through my clothes & replaced them with quality items I enjoy wearing that I feel like I have SO many options but I have SUCH a small number of items now compared to when I started weeding out synthetics. I have reflected that life is funny like that, sometimes when we lack quality we go for quantity, don't we?

Being deliberate in purchasing/replacing items has been a years-long thing & lately I do feel surprised that interacting with quality on a regular basis is satisfying, though I have kind of always held the idea that spending extra $ on things you interact with daily will make your daily experience more enjoyable. A nice face wash, comfortable bedsheets, decent rubber gloves to wash dishes in. I suppose I will just never stop appreciating little things in life.

Sunday bb will return, we will relax & play BG3, spend our last little bit of solo time together until next year, quite literally. Tuesday our friend arrives, I visit the allergist, then Thursday my cousin arrives, then Sunday we fly to Texas, then it's holiday madness & remote work, then we fly to Mexico, the new year blooms, more remote work, & we return to life & a new semester.

In more mundane news, I told myself that I would learn how to french braid my hair while it's short so I can become accustomed to it as it grows out & I have stuck to my word! 3 successful braids so far, though my arms do get exhausted & I feel feeble every time I braid it. Just as I feel weak every time I do core exercises (2 down this week! pretty good considering I spent 3 full & exhausting days in the office today) at least I'm doing it! I will get better! I can't expect myself to be good at something right off the bat, as much as I want to be for my ego's sake.

I still always feel at least a little anxious after socializing with people I am not intimately close with, & I have done an assload of socializing over the last 3 days, BUT I feel relatively unscathed after this week. 2 fumbles, which I felt I saved, & maybe I shouldn't be cataloging my social blunders mentally but also maybe mentally I'm a little left of center & I should just be OK with that, too, instead of self-monitoring so heavily. Anyway, I think the level of comfort I DO feel has a lot to do with the fact that I really just feel delightful about the people I work with; I really genuinely like them all. They are all such characters, so knowledgeable, incredibly well-intentioned, & most of them are as sassy & quippy as I enjoy in a person without the malicious undertone that often accompanies that trait.

Anyway I am trying to remind myself that bettering is incremental & when I look back at how far I have come I am proud of myself, too. Lastly, perhaps, I must shake the scolding I want to give myself at every imperfection.

It is a beautiful night & I am comfortable, listening to music & watching everything collect a thin layer of white outside of my window. I have things to look forward to, people to love, people to love me back, humble goals, & a deep appreciation for the now. I hope you, too, find a quiet sort of peace as the year wraps itself in darkness & cold. I hope spring makes you feel like you can start over if you need to. I hope you treat yourself gently tomorrow.

[sakuramiku]

03/01/24 - 03/03/24 💐

if i'm being honest, i'm still in such a huge funk but i really wanted to escape so i thought it might be the perfect time to go see the love of my life. i think the timing was honestly perfect because his birthday was on the first day that i arrived.

i left my house for the airport around 4:30am which wasn't that bad. i was so anxious that i was going to sleep through the time my flight would take off but i was thankfully sleeping very light so i didn't have to worry. i charged up my 3DS so i got to start re-playing majora's mask but i didn't play for very long. when i landed, my love actually passed me in passenger pick up and had to double back. i truly hate being picked up from any airport. after he picked me up, we had a very long talk for the drive. he hid his hair the entire time because he didnt have time for a haircut.

when i go to visit him, we have to drive from north carolina to south carolina as he lives very deep in the country. i didn't eat any sort of breakfast because we were supposed to go to eat as soon as i got down there but the drive was so long that he wanted to rest. we took a nap together for the first time in forever, i love sleeping next to him. he holds me so tight. it's perfect. after he got up from his nap, we went to get his haircut and GOD. we waited over an hour to be serviced. so damn annoying. it was loud as well. i met his cousin though and he introduced me as his wife,, AHHHH. it made me so happy. he actually asked me if it was alright when he introduced me as his wife. after we did that, we quickly drove to a sushi restrauant that he likes in town because we thought going to cracker barrel wouldnt be worth it because we were so hungry. i got this tempura based roll and god was it delicious. i really enjoyed eating sushi with him . . though, he got steak and rice. we briefly picked up a few items that i needed from walmart & went back to his house.

i got to truly meet his son in person which made me happy. he is such a cutie. he asked me to pick him up and take him to his room so we could watch tv . . when the loml followed us, he yelled that his father needed to get out and leave us alone. he spent the day calling me his girlfriend and played nintendogs with me and his dad. it was nice. his mom asked us to go get groceries so we decided to take a nap, but we overslept. i haven't been sleeping much and whew. i slept for twelve hours that first night. it was really needed because i was DRAINED. when i woke up around 3am, my lover and i watched a movie but eventually i fell back asleep.

the next morning, we decided to go to cracker barrel for breakfast as that's usually our spot when i go down there and our spot in new york city is this chain restrauant called BBQ's. that was the place where my parents and i enjoyed. we would always enjoy going because times square is always so beautiful. after the breakfast, we explored the mall. we went to barnes & nobles and a bunch of clothing stores including target where my bf got me some stuff. now for the best part, WE WENT TO BUCEES. I LOVE BUCEES. my husband got me some water because i was nauseous and bought myself + my friend some merchandise. i fucking love bucees. i couldn't find the plush slippers which sucked. but the stuff i got was still cute. we drove back to the house and saw all the children including his at his grandmas house. to which his son yelled "my daddys girlfriend" cute as hell. for dinner, we drove to wingstop. it was his first time and he thought it was decent. we are trying american deli next time.

on sunday, we decided to stay at home until it was time to go to the airport and everyone tempoarily left the house so yeah. i got to meet more of his family which was nice. i hate that i had to leave. i am already planning the next trip.

[secondguessing-reality]

Manifested Wrong

Written privately some time in December 2022:

What really happened, as of summer 2023:

You’re here. You’re finally here on my side of the country, in my city where you always said you’d be. I’m here with you, not living together yet but I made it, and you did too. We’re dating, we’re together. We speak daily, see each other a few days a week unless we’re busy - which happens to be often but at least we get a few days.

This is cute. You moved in immediately, and not only do we spend time together every single day, we sleep together a few nights a week. We speak all the damn time! <3

Sometimes you come over just to watch me with housework while I sip wine and have music playing in the background. These nights we spend together end in us tangled up together. Sharing details about our day as you help me put away dishes and place a kiss on my neck.

Oh, my beloved. Things turned out so much better than I imagined. I come home from work and everything I have piled on my to-do list is done already, thanks to you. When we spend the evenings together there's nothing to be done EXCEPT become wrapped up in each other. When we're home, we get so absorbed in our love that we don't even have time to get through videos and craft projects like we said we would. We're just too into each other that anything else seems almost like a distraction from our endless conversations.

On the weekends we hang out with our friends, with my sister and her family, my fiancé, or just with each other. We go places, do activities, find new places to try, all the fun things we said we’d do together. We have dinner at the fancy restaurants I like, and we find new cafes constantly. I take you to Rise or Asa's and you brag that nothing is better than NY bagels. It makes both of us laugh.

We definitely spend more time with each other than with anyone else. I'm happy to report that everything else is true, except I haven't taken you to a bagel shop here, yet. Soon!

I show you all my favorite spots in the suburbs that I call my home, a place that always felt solid and familiar. Sometimes we go out to Milwaukee to visit my family, spend time with my aunts, uncles, and cousins. I’m not afraid of introducing you, especially to my mother's side. Seeing us in the dynamic doesn’t worry me as I thought it once would.

I've shown you many places that hold meaning to me. I feel lucky I've gotten to see similar places to you. The family that has met you has loved you.

Sometimes we go out East to visit your family, your friends. Sometimes it’s for cons, sometimes it's just back to the Island for little weekends, occasionally it's for the City. We watch sunsets, we walk by the beach, I make an excuse to touch seawater every single time I get near it, you tell me about historically significant buildings and landmarks we pass, we share street food, I point out wildlife. You take my hand as we walk through the villages telling me this is the best love you’ve ever had. 

We've been back twice so far. This prediction was surprisingly accurate! Look at it! Everything came true. Well, take me back to the city for another day of adventures.

We share our traditions, or culture, stories from our upbringing and what its like to be raised by parents raised by immigrants. Things I thought most people wouldn’t understand but you do. The good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, and the beautiful parts.

In the nights we stay up talking, joking, having sex, watching Netflix, laying next to each other in blissful comfort. We trust each other. I never thought it was possible to trust someone this much, I thought it was a myth, that it was something I only read or see on TV but you make it real. The closeness, the vulnerability. I overcame aversions because I want to be with you more than I’m afraid of being vulnerable. We learned from each other. The lessons we knew we needed to learn. You helped me to rely on others, to be open with others, to ask for help and let people help me. With my fierce love and adoration, I hope I'm helping you learn how to see the greatness within yourself. We’ve grown with each other, becoming better, stronger for each other all with the intention to continue to grow with and for each other.

Wow, okay. All true. Plus a plethora of pets. We've been through so much else the last few months, but when you look at it from December's perspective, I had no idea the depth of our bond could take us this far, and almost too easily.

I open up to you in ways I haven’t opened up to people before. And the best part, you don’t look at me like I’m crazy, or that I’m from another planet. Even if you thought as such you never make me feel alien for it. I don’t need validation, and you know that, but you let me find comfort in you without the fear of feeling like I made a mistake.

I let you be the weak one when you need to be. You want to be strong for me because I AM strong for you and for myself, but you know when to put away the façade and take a break. We lay down on the couch, your head on my chest as I play with your hair. Your long, silver, cloud-soft hair that I love so much. You talk as if no one is listening, opening up about things you keep buried deep. I respect your boundaries and you respect mine but we ask each other questions and tell each other our concerns without having any worry.

And when we look at each other and into each others eyes, we know it, better than we’ve ever known. We’re in love, and we always will be.

This is what I imagined for us. Prayed for. Beseeched the old Gods to grant for us. And it's true, except...

It's so, so much better than I dreamed.

[allegedllama]

Barbie movie post, ig

The most emotional part for me was after the movie was over, and just, thinking back to how I used to play with Barbies with my sister, before I knew I was trans. And like, those memories of playing with those dolls are so precious to me. We would fight because I would want our dolls to have superpowers, and she would want them to be normal high school girls. We had our one Ken doll who’s pants would never stay up and we named him David and he was always working with the bad guys for some reason and he was always my favourite part of the games.

We didn’t have many fancy dresses for our dolls to wear to balls and stuff so I would take scrap fabric and try to wrap them in a way that they would look like fancy dresses so that they could go the the parties. I was like, a fairy godfather, but the dresses were always a little lumpy and ugly, but I tried so hard to make them for these dolls. Now my sister is the seamstress.

My grandpa had the biggest dollhouse in his basement, all handmade and wooden and I would arrange the furniture so carefully, lining up the tiny wooden books so carefully, and when they inevitably fell like dominos, I would just line them up again. I remember once when I was older, I was visiting and when I woke up and walked into the room where the dollhouse was, there was a little boy playing there with them (He was a relative of mine I didn’t know very well,) and we just, played barbies together. I set up the furniture for him. I remember him asking if I was a girl or a boy. I don’t really remember where in my transition I was at, but I remember he didn’t really care about the answer that much. I would play barbies with my cousins when I was younger, in that same dollhouse. It was a hotel most of the time I think. I remember we used to laugh so much together.

Me and my sister used to watch the movies together too. Especially the 12 dancing princesses. That one was my favourite. We would divide all 12 princesses between us, I would get 6 and she would get 6, and whenever one of our princesses was on screen we had to copy their dance moves. That was my idea, I think. Turns out I have ADHD. That movie is also why I love Mendelssohn so much. When I started learning the Italian Symphony clarinet excerpt in like, grade 9, I told my teacher it was the 12 dancing princesses chase scene music. That’s still how I think about it.

There’s something so precious about that time for me, my Barbie era. When I look back on that time, I mostly just think about my sister. Partly because she still loves barbies so much. But it was maybe the time I felt closest to her. Our silly little bickering about what type of adventures our dolls should go on. Who got to be which dancing princess. At the time I don’t think I knew how important those moments were.

The most important part of the movie for me was remembering how me and my sister used to play with Barbies. The world is so much more complicated now than it was when we used to play, and I have changed so much since then. I mean, I’m not her big sister anymore, but her big brother, and that has changed how we interact, even if just a little bit. But I guess the barbie movie reminded me of just how much I love my sister.

[borathae]

Oh Sibi this chapter really hit me so hard emotionally, just seeing the interaction between oc and her lovely and sweet grandma Lilly made me cry uncontrollably because it reminded me of my grandpa, he passed away two years ago and I was completely broken for months after it, he was the only one that defended me from my younger cousin whenever he hit me or said the cruelest things to me, he was always there for me cheering me up, he would always call me “my queen” or “mija” which is like a shortened version of “mi hija“(my daughter), and he would take time out of his day to go pick me up at school so I didn’t have to go home by myself because he couldn’t bare the thought of something happening to me on the way home, I still miss him dearly every single day and how I wish I could hug him again 😢 so thank you Sibi for showing us this glimpse of oc’s and her grandma’s sweet relationship and with that bringing all the sweet memories with my own grandpa 🥹💜😭

And now to the chapter itself!!! The blue bracelet omg sibi 😭😭😭😭😭😭 THEM THEIR LOVE 😭😭😭😭

And THANKS GOD FOR MY SWEET LITTLE JUNGKOOKIE MY LOVE, for real he’s so sweet with her and if it weren’t for him and his big brain they would still be looking for a cure, sweet boy hit gold with his idea of going into her memories to visit her grandma and he got to be human again during the process 😭😭😭😭 he finally could cuddle with oc in the way he always wanted 😭😭😭 please give this sweet boy all the love and cuddles of the universe he deserves all of it, when oc told him that they will be able to make those memories in the real world too I just 🥹🥹🥹🥹 yes baby boy you WILL get to cuddle your love and make wonderful memories with her 😭 Sibi I love him so much my Kookie Pookie 🥺 I also love that oc now, with her mind more clear can internalizar the fact that she’s not alone in this and that he has someone who understands her completely when it comes to Yoongi, she doesn’t have to carry all the pain alone because Kookie is there for her to share it 🥺

AND NOW WE HAVE A CURE FOR BOONGIE FINALLY HES COMING BACK 😭😭😭😭😭😭 maybe in the next chapter or not but WE WILL GET HIM BACK BECAIE THERES A CURE 😭 can’t wait for them to finally be reunited not only oc and Yoongi but all three of them together, Kook Yoongi and oc 🥹

I hope oc can go back to the witch realm with the boys in tow so she can introduce them to her grandma officially, that would be so so soooo sweet 😭 (I saw the ask where you said you were playing with the idea of short stories with this and I say YESSSS PLEASE I would read the shit out of all that fluff)

That’s all for now Sibi thank you for this fluffy and warm chapter after all the pain in the previous ones I loved it so much and can’t wait for the next one!!!!

-Shy anon

Gosh, your grandpa sounds like an absolute sunshine and I'm so sorry for your loss. Thank you so much for sharing this story with me! Now you can rest assured that he'll always live on because the story of him will stay in a warm and cozy compartment in my heart 🥺💜

for real he’s so sweet with her and if it weren’t for him and his big brain they would still be looking for a cure, sweet boy hit gold with his idea of going into her memories to visit her grandma and he got to be human again during the process 😭😭😭😭 he finally could cuddle with oc in the way he always wanted 😭😭😭 please give this sweet boy all the love and cuddles of the universe he deserves all of it,

I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM 😭😭 LIKE HE REALLY SAVED OUR BOONGIE I'M GONNA CRY 😭😭😭

I also love that oc now, with her mind more clear can internalizar the fact that she’s not alone in this and that he has someone who understands her completely when it comes to Yoongi, she doesn’t have to carry all the pain alone because Kookie is there for her to share it 🥺

YES THANK YOU I AM CRYING ABOUT THIS ON THE DAILY 😭😭😭 THESE TWO ARE SO RIGHT FOR EACH AND I'M GONNA CRY 😭

can’t wait for them to finally be reunited not only oc and Yoongi but all three of them together, Kook Yoongi and oc 🥹

me neither fjadjfajds BESTIES I WANT THEM SO BAD I CRY

I hope oc can go back to the witch realm with the boys in tow so she can introduce them to her grandma officially, that would be so so soooo sweet 😭 (I saw the ask where you said you were playing with the idea of short stories with this and I say YESSSS PLEASE I would read the shit out of all that fluff)

*laughs in author* YES KEEP ENCOURAGING ME I THRIVE OFF THE WORDSSS

[aizenat]

When I was a child, there was a rare time where both my uncle and aunt came to visit. I remembered being annoyed because this was when my family still lived with my grandparents, so the sleep arrangements were annoying.

That said, my other aunt came over with my other cousin, and so it was a rare time when all of the kids from my generation, my brother and I with all our cousins, got to hung out together. By this time, my oldest cousin would have been almost 18; but we all sat outside my grandparents house on a nice summer evening. They taught me and my brother how salt kills slugs, and we all laughed and talked and I loved being around them because they were all so much older and cooler in my little kid eyes.

I remember us getting empty spaghetti jars my grandmother kept and catching fire flies as the sun set. And then when it got too dark for that, we found flashlights and played flashlight tag in the dark until my brother and I, the youngests, got called to bed. I remembered the disappointment of the moment ending, because I had wanted it to last forever.

We’ve never all been together since then. I wonder if any of them remember that night.