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jackabelle73 · 8 months

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Love and Happiness, ch 9

Fandom: OUaT/Rumbelle

Rating: Teen

Word Count: ~3,200 for this chapter; ~31,800 total so far.

Ch 9 on AO3

A/N: this chapter is for @reolf for their birthday. I'm so lucky to have you as a friend. <3

Walking into Storybrooke Island University Library felt like coming home.

Belle stopped just inside the doors, closing her eyes and breathing in the smell of thousands of books. It was a little ritual she had, just taking a moment to remind herself of how lucky she was to be here, in this fortress of knowledge. The small sounds of a working library washed over her… patrons’ feet tapping on the floor. A hushed conversation from the circulation desk. High-pitched giggling from the children’s section. Books being stamped as they were checked out.

“Belle! You’re back!”

The Head Librarian’s voice made her open her eyes. Archie Hopper stood before her, arms loaded with books.

“Yes. My honeymoon is over, and I have my husband’s permission to work. I’m hoping that I can resume my internship here.”

“We could certainly use your help,” he nodded. “Two more staff members have left in the past month, either to get married or because they are expecting a baby.”

“Oh, really? Who left? Here, let me take some of those for you. I’ll walk with you and you can catch me up on everything that’s happened.”

She followed him down an aisle, helping to reshelve books as he told her about the staffing changes and everything else that had happened in the past month. He was called away to deal with an irate patron, and she finished the chore on her own. It didn’t feel like a chore at all, really. She loved this work.

She paused in the act of stepping down from a stool, attention diverted by a book at eye level. The Bear and the Bow, the spine read. The cover showed a large bear, towering over a woman with long red curly hair who was notching an arrow into her bow. The woman looked not at all afraid, glaring back at the bear with defiance.

Hmm. This must be a new acquisition since she’d been gone. A bit of heroic fantasy would certainly be a nice break from all the historical and legal texts she’d been reading for the past month. It was a wonder that the book was on the shelf at all; a story featuring a courageous heroine was not the sort that Queen Regina normally allowed in her library. Tucking the book under her arm, she walked slowly down the aisle, scanning the book spines to see if anything else caught her eye.

The quiet click of a door closing carried to her ears as she pulled down another book for closer inspection, right before Henry Mills walked around the end of the bookcase.

“Mrs. Gold!” he gasped, pulling the large book he held close to his chest and staring at her with wide eyes.

She spied a distinctive red sticker on the spine of the book he held. Only books kept in one section of the library had that sticker, and there was only one door that Henry could have just exited.

“Henry… did you take that book from the government archives?”

“My mom asked me to pick it up for her,” he claimed.

“Mmm. I doubt that, considering how tightly that area is regulated.” She held out her hand, and he surrendered the book with a sigh. “How did you even get in there?”

“My mom’s the Queen and Mayor,” he shrugged. “I have my ways.”

She wanted to ask him more about his methods, but restrained herself.

“If it were up to me, I’d let you take it. I’m not one to inhibit the pursuit of knowledge.”

“So I can have it back?” he asked hopefully.

“You’d never make it out of the library without getting caught. There’s a sensor embedded in the spine, that will set off alarms as soon as you walk out the door.”

“Really?” He peered at the book as if he could see the offending piece of security.

“Yes, really. You’d better go, Henry. I’ll find a way to get this back where it’s supposed to go.”

He gave one last glance at the book she held, before he turned away. He’d only taken two steps before he turned back.

“You won’t get in trouble, will you?”

“No. I’ll be fine, Henry. You should go.”

He nodded and left. Belle looked both ways to be sure no one else was near, before peeking at the title. The Mills: From Laborers to Ruling Family. The author was listed as Isaac Heller. Flipping through, Belle got the impression of a tell-all book, in the style of a tabloid. How in the world had this gotten published? No wonder Henry had been interested… but why would it be kept in the tightly restricted government archives?

Curiosity gnawed at her, as she tried to think of some way she could get it out of the library without being caught, so she could take it home and peruse it at her leisure. When no ideas presented themselves, she sighed and went to the circulation desk, mentally rehearsing the lie she would tell Archie.

“Can we talk freely here?” Belle asked, as they entered the house that evening and hung up their coats.

“The house should be safe. I had Dove here all day, watching for anyone who might try to plant a listening device.”

“Good. I want to tell you about something that happened at the library.” She launched into her tale, finishing with, “I told Archie that I found it on a table near the government archives, and had no idea how it got there. He praised me for turning it in.”

By this time, they were sitting down to a dinner prepared by his housekeeper. With their honeymoon period officially over, Mrs. Potts had returned to her duties. Whatever she’d cooked for their first post-honeymoon dinner, it smelled delicious.

“And young Henry didn’t tell you how he got in?” Mr. Gold asked.

“Only that he had his ways,” Belle smirked, amused by the idea of the Queen’s son defying the rules.

“Hmm. Well, all children go through their rebellious phase.”

“Did Bae?” she asked, hesitant but she felt that he needed to talk about his son. When had he last had anyone in his life that he could talk to about his son, and the devastating loss of him?

There was a barely perceptible pause in the motion of his fork, as he scooped up more food.

“Only a little,” he said briefly, then immediately followed it with, “you didn’t tell me the title of this contraband book that Henry had.”

She nodded, accepting that he didn’t want to talk further about his son, before reciting the title.

“Really? That book?” He actually smiled, a rarity for him.

“You know it?”

He chuckled.

“I have a copy in my library. I’m surprised you haven’t run across it already.”

She dropped her fork with a clatter.

“Where in the library?” she asked, already sliding off her stool.

“Miss French, it’s been there for over a decade. I doubt it will disappear while we’re finishing our meal.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” She returned to her seat, abashed at her questionable manners. “I just… get excited about books.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he said wryly.

Belle was able to laugh at herself, picking up her fork to resume eating.

“I was really surprised to see that book in the Government Archives. I only skimmed through it, but I would expect that the Queen would want all copies destroyed.”

“Most were, believe me. My guess is that Regina held on to one copy so that she had proof of the lies Isaac Heller told about her family. Should he ever attempt anything like that again, she could submit evidence in court that he’d done it before.”

“What a miserable pair of women. It’s sad. Nothing has ever been enough for them. Nothing will ever make them happy.”

“You’re correct about Cora. Had she ever achieved all the power and status she craved, then perhaps she could have been happy for a while… but then she would have wanted more. Power feeds on itself and is always hungry. Regina, though… she might be a different story. There’s a glimmer of hope for her to change, because she’s found something that makes her happy.”

“You mean her son.”

“Yes.”

“I saw them together, the day of our interviews. She really loves him. Anyone could see it.”

* * *

Weeks passed, during which their lives settled into a surprisingly mundane routine. They rose each morning, had breakfast together, and drove into town, where they went their separate ways for the day.

Belle had resumed her studies, and only took a couple weeks to catch up on the work that she’d missed while on her honeymoon. When she wasn’t at school, she was at the library working at her internship. It was a relief to settle back into her former routine and realize that she was still on schedule to graduate on time.

At the end of the day, she would meet Mr. Gold at his shop, and they would share the ride back to his house -- which she was increasingly beginning to think of as not just their house, but their home. They would share stories of their day over dinner, and usually spend a quiet evening together in the den. She would study or read, while he worked on his rental ledgers or sat with his own book.

Their life together was wonderful, Belle had to admit. It was nearly perfect… if not for the shadow of a government threat hanging over them, and the worry over Bae’s safety. There was no way to know if Mr. Gold’s aunts had been able to deliver the crucial message to his son. They could only hope, and wait, knowing all along that they might never get confirmation. The best they could hope for, Mr. Gold told her grimly, was that nothing would happen. No change meant that the government hadn’t captured Bae.

It was an imperfect solution, and Belle could tell that the uncertainty was taking its toll on her husband. Though he was as kind to her as always, she caught him sometimes staring off into space when he was supposed to be reading, and the grim twist of his mouth said that he wasn’t thinking happy thoughts. She’d heard him walk past her door in the middle of the night, and surmised that he wasn’t sleeping well.

She knew he had continued his work to aid the Queen behind the scenes. She wasn’t happy about that, but accepted it as necessary to insure Bae’s safety. For now, they were biding their time. Hopefully, one day soon, they could talk again about challenging the government’s unfair practices, but now was not the time. Not when his son’s safety was at stake.

“I think I found something!”

Belle rushed down the hall toward Mr. Gold’s office, arms wrapped around a large book, and turned into his office just as he was exiting in response to her call, causing the two of them to collide. She rebounded from the impact and would have ended up on her derriere, if not for his quickness in wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her.

She found herself pressed against him, with only the book she still held forming a barrier between their bodies. His face was so close that she could feel his breath when he exhaled, and she realized with mortification that she was staring at his mouth. She forced herself to raise her focus to his eyes and found him staring back at her, his face reddening.

She stepped back and he released her immediately.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, and thank you for catching me. I’m sure that would have been a very undignified fall.”

“No matter,” he assured her, using one hand to smooth his waistcoat. “You said you found something?”

“Yes! It’s in here.”

She passed him to enter his office, no longer feeling like a stranger in his work space. There was a small table by the window, and it was there that she laid the book and opened it to the bookmarked page in the sunlight.

“That’s a very old book,” he commented, reaching out to touch the yellowed page edges.

“Yes. And even this is only a reprint of the original, which is hundreds of years older.”

He gave the words themselves only a quick glance before turning to face her. “You’ll have to tell me what you found; you know I can’t read this language.”

“Right. So… we know that the current constitution, including the arranged marriage law, is based on a model of government established hundreds of years ago, written down in a book that our previous ruler dug out of an archive somewhere.”

“Yes. Always seemed a bit convenient that she found a document that described a government that gave her exactly what she wanted.”

“Very convenient… and badly translated.”

“How so?”

“This section here--” she outlined a paragraph with her finger without quite touching the page— “is the basis of the marriage law. The modern translation of these words reads, ‘the government shall choose for each citizen a life partner, and offer whatever support necessary to insure the success of each marriage.’” She opened her eyes, only then realizing that she’d closed them as she recited the words by memory, and saw Mr. Gold staring at her, lips parted and body tense.

He cleared his throat and glanced down at the book between them.

“So you’re saying that’s not what this book says?”

“It’s not how I would translate it, no. I read it as, ‘the government shall support each citizen in choosing their life partner, and offer whatever support necessary to insure the success of each marriage.’ Mr. Gold… they reversed the verbs in the current translation. There’s a world of difference in meaning between ‘support’ and ‘choose’ and they reversed them!”

“How sure are you of your translation?”

“I’m very sure of how I translated this book. The problem is, this is a later edition of the original. It’s very common for each edition to have minor edits, or changes in translation. What we need is to see the original.”

“Do you know where it’s kept?”

“According to my favorite professor at university… in the Government Archives of the University Library, where I have my internship. It’s theoretically possible to receive access to the documents kept there, but permission is granted to very few. The most commonly approved applications are from academics and scholars, like my professor. That’s how she knows where it is; she’s seen it there.”

“Hmm….” He leaned back against the table, tapping his fingers on his cane as he thought. “It’s unlikely that either of us could be approved to see these documents. There are other ways, though. How about you let me work on that? You’ve done your part by finding this information, and translating it. My skills are more suited to procuring items of value, especially those most difficult to procure. I’m going to enjoy this challenge. Well done on your part, Miss French.”

He gave a small salute as he went back to his desk, and the wink that accompanied it made her stomach flutter. He picked up the phone and started dialing, his attention already intent on his task, so she picked up her research and left, closing the door behind her.

The clock next to her bed read 2:08 when she opened her eyes, wondering why she was awake. She got out of bed and went to her door, opening it a crack to look out in the hallway. It was empty, but the light from downstairs told her that Mr. Gold was awake.

Wrapping a robe around herself, she went downstairs and knocked on his closed office door. She didn’t wait for his answer before opening it and stepping inside.

“Miss French. What are you doing up at this hour?”

“Wondering why you’re up at this hour,” she countered.

He sighed. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I found myself unable to sleep, and thought I might get some work done.”

“You’re worried over Bae,” she stated. He simply nodded. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be, to not know. Can I help in any way?”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing that anyone can do, Miss French.”

“Well, I can keep you company, at least.” She saw him start to protest, and cut him off. “You shouldn’t be alone. Just let me grab a book, and I’ll sit with you.”

He only nodded acknowledgement when she re-entered his office, The Bear and the Bow in hand, and made herself comfortable on the small couch that she’d never seen him use. She didn’t try to draw him into conversation, but focused on her book. She felt his eyes on her occasionally, but continued to read, till her eyes grew heavy and she let her head fall back against the cushion.

She didn’t know how much later it was, when he shook her awake, whispering her name urgently.

“Miss French! Miss French, you must wake up now.”

His panicked tone chased away the last traces of sleep-induced fog. “What is it?” she asked, sitting up. A blanket fell away as she did, and she had the passing thought that Mr. Gold had covered her as she slept.

“Someone is in the house.”

“What?” She was fully awake in an instant.

“I heard footsteps upstairs. I need you to stay here, and lock the door, while I investigate.”

He stood up from where he’d been bending over her, and for the first time she saw a gun in his hand. The sight made her go cold; she’d never known that he owned a gun. He strode toward the door as quickly as his injured leg allowed, and left, closing the door behind him.

What danger was he walking into upstairs? She couldn’t stay here, safe behind a locked door, and let him take all the risk. Not when she could possibly help. Crossing to Mr. Gold’s desk, she scanned the items in plain sight and grabbed a glass paperweight in one hand, a silver letter opener in the other.

As quietly as possible, she left the office and tip-toed up the stairs. Mr. Gold was already out of sight, so she hurried to the top and looked down the hall, to see him pressed to the wall outside Bae’s room. A light shone from beneath the closed door. She moved to the wall herself, and crept closer. She was still several feet away from Mr. Gold when he turned suddenly, opening the door and pointing the gun into the room.

“Stop where you are!” he commanded, and Belle shivered at the menace in his voice. “Turn around with your hands up, or I shoot!”

“Don’t shoot!” A man’s voice. “It’s me, Papa. It’s Bae.”

The color drained from Gold’s face, and the hand holding the gun fell limp to his side.

#ouat #rumbelle fic #jackabelle writes #fic: love and happiness

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pbandjesse · 8 months

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I am very tired today. Which has me feeling a little lightheaded. But it was still a nice day.

I need to not be so hard on myself. I was just reviewing the day before I wrote everything down and was like. Oh you didn't do much, you didn't accomplish much. But that's not true!! I had a good day.

I did end up taking one muscle relaxer last night and it helped me sleep which was nice but I still woke up groggy. At least I didn't have to drive.

I got dressed and felt a little weird in this dress. I think it's the flouncy bottom hem. But I still felt cute. James kept telling me I was cute. And we loaded up the car and left.

We misordered at McDonald's but James got it fixed. And then helped me set up at the market. I was still feeling groggy and a little weird. But I was enjoying talking to Anne and working on some frogs. I got a few done today and that felt nice.

I also wished Stanley a happy birthday. He's going to Atlantic City with his wife and kids tonight for a few days. I hope they have fun and he wins a lot of money. I told him about when my dad left my mom at the beach for gambling quarters and how I can't be trusted to gamble because I have a terrible addictive personality. Made him laugh really hard.

We got baked goods from Ginny. It's the last week for summer flavors! I'm excited for her fall flavors, her stuff really shines that time of year.

I had a good time at the market. I was productive finishing frogs. I got like 5 or 6 done. Even sold one a few minutes after putting it on the table and got lots of compliments and faces (like the sad oh my goodness so cute faces) and it was encouraging. I would sell 3 plushies and 2 stickers packs plus a few stand alone stickers. It was a really good day.

I made a TikTok with my bears. It was the Taylor swift trend where you pick up a pet or an animal or baby and spin them around. So I did that and Ann was like. Jesse that looked so weird you know that right and I'm like Ann I have not one day care what people think about me. And she laughed and said the videos as very cute.

I had some excellent conversations and maybe made some market friends. One with a lovely couple who got a bunch of my stuff and we talked about arthritis and making and how we adapt things so it doesn't hurt so much. I hope they come back cause they were lovely. Someone requested I try to make a pig. So I'm going to attempt that tomorrow I think. Just to see what happens. it's really just going to be changing proportions I think.

One of the funnier parts of the day was when Rod, the bread guy, got terrified by a customer when he wasnt looking and she came up behind him. He legit screamed. It was very funny.

And then a whole bunch of little kids swarmed me. I'm talking like 7 kids! I had then all trying to loom knit. And we got a half a square done through teamwork. These were all 5 years old and you get except for two older brothers who mostly just watched and talked to me. The 2 year old, Luka, did not have the dexterity for it so I held his hand so he could get it. He was all snotty as 2 year olds tend to me and I would ask nicely for the pick tool and would say thank you when he gave it back, we had a good thing going.

The boys kept taking the yarn and unraveling it though which was only mildly annoying but their mom collected it and apologized. I mostly just didn't want them to wrap it around their necks, which they kept doing. I just kept saying "oh no thank you friends." And then redirecting giving them turns doing the loom. Stanley laughed at me with all the kids crawling all over me and my chair and I was like. Stanley I have opened a kindergarten.

Eventually the mom's would take their kids away a few at a time. Until only Mia and her brother were there. She showed her grandma and grandma said she has a loom too so maybe she can do it at home. I love to share especially when it encourages people to make things on their own!!

I was excited to go home though. It got really hot out all of a sudden, even under the pavilion. I would pack up pretty quick. I was already feeling a little woozy. I went inside and said goodbye to James. Chatted with Sarah, it was very nice to see her. And then when I started yawning James told me to go home.

Thankfully there wasn't a ton of traffic. Pratt street, a major through road, was closed for a concert tonight. So I was prepared for bad traffic but I lucked up. And was home before 130.

I parallel parked really well!! Very proud. And then brought everything upstairs. I hugged Sweetp for a bit. And put things away. I accidently squished the peanut butter pie. But it will still taste good.

After everything was put away where it needed to go I would take a quick shower and change. I trimmed my bangs. And laid down.

I would put on the AC and a video and fell asleep pretty fast. And I had intense dreams again. Nothing surprising. Was married to a colonial general in a space/time travel loop on an alien planet. We had three alien babies and were hiding from the government on a desert island/ abandoned nifty fifties.

I woke up woozy still. I went to make a sandwich and then James was home!! I was happy to see them.

They played video games. And I watched videos. And we had a chill evening. I would play with sweetp. And James would go for a bike ride and bring us home burger king. Which I ate in the bathtub. Nothing like a milkshake and fries in a bubble bath.

Now we are in bed. Half watching tiktoks. Half just talking. Resting. I am excited to go back to sleep. I hope it comes easy tonight.

I hope you all have a good night and take care of yourselves. Until next time!

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robielie · 1 year

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Happy Birthday Luna! 🌙

template is from here: 🌙

Luna: Alright….

Luna: This is my second time doing something like this and I’m still nervous…

Luna: It’s all right…as long as I get a cool interviewer, I too shall be cool…

???: …oh sure, you’ll be so cooooll….he he he….

Luna: !?

Luna: YOU!?

???: EEEPPP!!!

Luna: Well I was right. Anyone would like cool next to you, Idia.

Idia: jeez….I can’t believe I’m being forced to do this….

Idia: Trust me, if I wanted to switch with anyone I would. But here we are, so there! Just take your present and let’s get started already!

Luna: Alright, alright. Let’s get this over with then.

Luna: Ugh. It’s pretty heavy. *shake shake

Luna: Is that glass?

Idia: Don’t shake it like a child! It’s gonna break!

Luna: You’re the one whining like a child! Put a fragile sticker next time!

Luna: Huh? Oh….a tea set?

Idia: A four-person tea set with a cosmic design! I think they might be zodiac signs or just random star patterns, idkorthopickeditout.

Luna: Oh so Ortho picked it out! That makes way more sense other than you picking it out.

Idia:......

Luna:.......

Idia:.........

Luna:........

Idia: Can someone PLEASE switch with me!?

___________________________________________

Idia: Fine…let’s do the interview then.

Idia: “If you could bring one person with you on a deserted island, who would you choose?”

Idia: Didn’t I ask this question to another student? Anyway, what’s your answer? Is it your boyfriend?

Luna: First of all, if I EVER found myself in a situation like that, I’m diving straight into the water face down.

Luna: And I’m assuming we can’t use magic on this island, so Azul going full merman on me and taking us back to civilization wouldn’t work.

Luna: Let’s see….there’s loads of people who would survive a deserted island.

Luna: Silver and Sebek are both guards, and I’ve heard they’ve gone through extensive training thanks to Lilia so they’d be prepared for it.

Luna: But then again…..

Luna: I only know a little bit about Zoe’s training, other than her fighting abilities.

Luna: And let’s just say there’s a bit of a connection between her and Lilia. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s prepared for something like this too.

Luna: Besides, I wouldn’t be able to be alone with Sebek for who knows how long, and I’m not that close with Silver.

Idia: So you’re gonna choose you’re best friend? LAME.

Idia: That’s way too obvious of an answer!

Luna: Well, excuse me for having friends, IDIA.

____________________________________________

Idia: Fine, fine. Next question.

Idia: “If you were to join any dorm other than Heartslabyul, which dorm would you choose?”

Luna: Honestly, anywhere I can escape all of the rules Riddle enforces…..

Luna: please don’t tell him I said that

Luna: If I had to choose….probably Octavinelle.

Idia: Do I have to ask why you chose Octavinelle? The very dorm where Azul is their housewarden?

Luna: I mean that’s part of the reason.

Luna: It would just be nice to be in a dorm that’s like a complete 180 compared to Heartslabyul. Not like Octavinelle doesn’t have its rules and regulations, but they don’t have as much to memorize.

Luna: Besides…I think it’d be fun to pair up with Floyd when students don’t follow through with their end of the bargain.

Idia: I guess it makes sense to pair up with someone as scary as Floyd. Getting on his bad side doesn't seem like fun.

Idia: Plus…you have training don’t you?

Luna: Just whatever Zoe’s taught me.

Idia: So yeah. You and Floyd running around together in a dorm would be a nightmare. I can’t imagine if Zoe switched over there along with you.

Luna: Plus, I’ve given Azul some ideas about his contracts and deals. Some of them were a little lackluster lately, so I’ve just been tossing out some ideas.

Idia: He actually shares contract information with you?

Luna:.....

Idia:......

Luna:.....

Idia:.....

Idia: I don’t think I’m comfortable around you and Azul anymore, Luna.

Luna: You were before?

________________________________________

Luna: Thank goodness we’re done.

Idia: You’re telling me. But we’ve still got the gift of good fortune.

Luna: Is it okay if I throw it back at you?

Idia: NO!? That’s not part of the celebration!

Luna:.....

Idia:.....

Idia: You’re gonna do it anyway aren’t you?

Luna: We won’t know unless you throw it first!

Idia: uuuggghh…

Idia: If only there were incentives for stuff like this.

Idia: Fine. I guess I have no choice.

Idia: Luna…Happy Birthday!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst #twst oc #art #illustration

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mysticalnightenthusiast · 2 years

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S.N.A.F.U CH64 ‘Murder in Aisle 9!”

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A/N: Sorry for the long ass wait for this update peoples my getup and go got up and went then I was flooded with loads of inspiration and motivation and couldn’t figure out where to end this chapter! Again my knowledge of English law/law in general is negligible so I apologise for any inaccuracies.

Enjoy!

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Darren adjusted his robes and approached Jem who regarded the QC with a look of distaste on her face.

“Thankyou for your interpretation of the truth Miss Boskovich it was quite enlightening,” he began cheerfully.

“Interpretation?” Jem scoffed “it was the truth.”

“Hmm yes, quite,” Darren replied in a ‘I don’t believe you’ tone I want you to cast your mind back to the end of two thousand eighteen....can you do that for me?”

“I suppose.”

“What date was the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix that year?”

“Sorry?”

“On-what-date-was-the-Abu-Dhabi-Grand-Prix-that-year?” Darren asked enunciating each word as if speaking to someone who didn’t understand English.

“I don’t know!” Jem exclaimed “that was nearly three years ago, can you remember the date of every event in your life? I mean when was Easter that year?”

“Two thousand eighteen?” Darren said “Good Friday was March thirtieth and Easter Sunday was April first.”

There was a long, tense and very awkward silence.

“Awkwaaaaaaard!” Max muttered in a carrying whisper.

“Well good for you, you can remember the dates for Easter that year,” Jem snapped “well done, what’s your point?”

“Well for the sake of the conversation it was on November 25th. No matter, let’s move on shall we?” Darren said cheerfully as he cast his eyes down to the notepad in his hands “are you aware of the London nightclub Cirque Le Soir?”

“Yes.”

“Is it an establishment you frequent?”

“Not now but when I worked for Louis Vuitton I did,” Jem replied “the company had a membership and I often joined the other staff from the Paris headquarters and the staff from the London office at various functions, birthdays, retirement parties Christmas parties etcetera.”

“Hmm and did you attend the club in November twenty eighteen?”

“Maybe? I mean it was toward the end of the year I used to go to a lot of functions with my job.”

“Is there a possibility you attended the club on November 25th twenty eighteen?”

There was a flicker of something in Jem’s eyes but she set her jaw and creased her brow.

“No,” she said “I was in Abu Dhabi that year obviously.”

“Were you?” Darren asked raising a single eyebrow as he returned to his chair and picked up a manila folder with a circular red sticker n the front “m’lady I would like to submit to the court some still photography taken from the closed circuit television footage of Cirque Le Soir, dated as you can see November twenty fifty two thousand eighteen at twenty two fifteen....”

Darren opened the folder and pulled out three glossy still photographs. He gave one to Justice Wickstead then walked across the floor and gave one to Albrecht before turning on his heel and returning to the stand where he gave Jemma her own copy.

“Miss Boskovich could you please look at the photo I have just given you and identify the person circled in white please?”

Jem rolled her eyes then looked to the photo in her hands.

“It looks like me,” she said shortly.

“Riiight okay then, so m’lady That year the Abu Dhabi GP began at seventeen hundred hours or five PM local time which was eight PM GMT, the duration was a little over one hour and thirty nine minutes would make it six thirty nine PM local time or nine thirty nine PM GMT....”

“Objection!” Albrecht called “what is the point?”

Darren took a deep breath and flashed Albrecht and Justice Wickstead a huge grin.

“I apologise if my statement sounds long winded m’lady but I assure the court and learned friend across the way I do have a point and was just finishing up making it when I was interrupted.”

“Very well Mr Cook, objection overruled,” Justice Wickstead replied “you may continue”

“As I was about to say m’lady the flight time between Abu Dhabi and London is about six hours and forty five minutes give or take half an hour so I’m curious Miss Boskovich how you managed to go from the Yas Marina Circuit to Abu Dhabi airport fly from Abu Dhabi to London, travel from any of the major London airports to your home in Wimbledon, get ready for a night out and make your way to Cirque Le Soir in time to be captured on their CCTV footage...what is it? Thirty five minutes? Did you apparate?”

Daniel’s friends and colleagues couldn’t help it ands let out a very audible collective titter of amusement

“I know what happened,” Jem snapped through gritted teeth “the ‘footage’ you have is obviously wrong. Photos can be manipulated or doctored.”

“Hmm yes they can be,” Darren replied “so would it be a fair assessment to say Miss Boskovich you lied about your whereabouts on November twenty fifth two thousand eighteen?”

“I wouldn’t say that....”

“But you did suffer a broken nose that night didn’t you?”

“Yeah I did!” Jem replied petulantly.

“And would you be so kind as to tell us how?”

“How? How? I’ve already said how.”

“You have said so yes, but if you could please repeat that....for the benefit of clarification.”

“You client punched me!”

“After you returned to your hotel room after the two thousand eighteen Abu Dhabi Grand Prix....?”

“Yes!”

“M’lday I would like to submit another piece of evidence to the court,” Darren continued going to his desk and retrieving an external hard drive from his bag “it’s a video file I feel is essential for today’s proceedings.”

“Go ahead Mr Cook.”

Darren made his way over to the TV near the witness stand and plugged it into the back. He then switched it on and selected a file labelled “CCTV”

“Miss Boskovich were you drunk on the evening of November 25th?” Darren asked.

“I can’t remember! It was three years ago how many people do you expect to remember events from three years ago?”

“Everyone who has accused their former spouse of assault and battery Miss Boskovich.” Darren replied crisply.

“Murder in aisle nine!” Michael murmured.

“Well I wasn’t drinking Capri Suns all night if that’s what you are asking!”

Eadaoin couldn’t help it and let out a loud snort of laughter that she immediately covered with and over the top hacking cough.

“You’re terrible Michael!” Eadaoin scolded the trainer with a smirk “behave!”

Darren caught Eadaoin’s eye and flashed her a barely discernable wink before continuing.

“I’d like to bring the court’s attention to this vision.” He said taking a remote control and clicking on the folder “I’ll let the vision explain itself but it’s from the morning of November 26th two thousand eighteen at oh two hundred hours GMT. Please pay attention to the figure with the circle around it.”

A tense silence fell upon the court as Darren pressed play.

One the screen the black and white vision of the front of Cirque Le Soir appeared a tall slender female figure stumbled out the front doors of the club and into the street turning right and heading toward a park bench that was surrounded by a large group of people the figure tripped up and stumbled into another female figure who turned and with a clenched fist ploughed it into the drunken figure’s face, the drunken figure in turn stumbled into the park bench, then got up and ran toward the blond figure returning the punch. The crowd parted and immediately surrounded the two fighting women and appeared to egg them on. Punches were thrown, hair was pulled and kicks were delivered before the dark haired female figure fell into the park bench again.

The vision ended and Darren rewinded it to the beginning before pausing it right on the moment as the dark figure emerged from the club, he then zoomed in and the identity of the figure was revealed to be Jem herself.

“Miss Boskovich would you be so kind as to identify the figure on screen please?” he asked.

Jem’s face fell but she screwed up her nose and looked down her nose at Darren.

“It appears to be me.” She snapped.

“Hmm it does doesn’t it?” Darren replied cheerfully “I would go so far as to say it is you Miss Boskovich you lied about the broken nose you suffered being as the result of Mr Ricciardo’s actions and that in fact you were nowhere near Abu Dhabi on the night of November 25th twenty eighteen and the broken nose you suffered was as a result of a drunken fight with another club patron! How can you expect the court to believe anything you have to say in regard to Mr Ricciardo when there is pictorial and video evidence to prove the contrary, admit it Miss Boskovich you couldn’t tell the truth for all the tea in Chin-”

“Objection my learned friend is intimidating the witness!” Albrecht bellowed.

“Proving your client is lying under oath isn’t intimidation Mr Albrecht it’s proving telling the truth is foreign concept to her!”

Justice Wickstead lifted her gavel and brought it down on its sound block.

“SILENCE!”” She bellowed “Mr Albrecht sit down, Mr Cook reword your statement. You’re both grown men, a court room is not the place to act like a pair of squabbling five year olds understand?”

“Yes m’lady” Darren and Albrecht chorused in clipped tones.

Albrecht slumped back in his seat, giving Darren a look of deep disgust and Darren turned to face Jem with a huge grin on his face.

“Let’s continue shall we?” he said cheerfully “okay we’ve established you’ve already got a shaky relationship with the truth could you please explain why despite your declaration your injuries were as a result of a punch at the hands of Mr Ricciardo in Abu Dhabi after the twenty eighteen Grand Prix neither myself or Mr Hamilton or Mr Russell couldn’t find your name on any of the passenger manifests of the flying into Abu Dhabi every day leading up to the twenty eighteen race or leaving Abu Dhabi in the three days after the twenty eighteen GP? There are sixteen airlines that fly directly to Abu Dhabi from London Miss Boskovich Gulf Air, Qatar Airlines, Emirates Airlines, Air France, Qantas, British Airways, Etihad Airways, Saudi Arabian Airlines, Turkish Airlines, Oman Air, Egypt Air, KLM, Air India, Air Canada, Cathay Pacific, Lufthansa, hundreds of thousands of passengers travelled to and from Abu Dhabi on those sixteen airlines that week Miss Boskovich don’t you think it’s awfully weird not one of those passengers was you?”

In fact according to my team’s research the only places you travelled in the two weeks prior to and two weeks after the twenty eighteen Abu Dhabi Grand Prix was Nice to Heathrow two days before your attendance at Cirque Le Soir, Heathrow to Nice two days after your attendance at Cirque Le Soir then two weeks later when you travelled from Nice to Heathrow then Heathrow to Perth via Los Angeles the latter of which you did with Mr Ricciardo!” Darren exclaimed “if in fact Mr Ricciardo did inflict the injuries you suffered why would you return to Monaco co-habitate with him then travel to Australia where I have it on good authority you stayed at the Ricciardo family farm, slept in the same bed as Mr Ricciardo engaged in relations with him then returned to Monaco with him six weeks later!? That doesn’t describe a battered woman Miss Boskovich it describes-”

“And what would you know about being a battered woman?” Jemma shrilled “you’re a man!”

“I’ve spent the better part of twenty years representing battered women Miss Boskovich and every single one of those women had proof of their situation, photographs, video, statutory declarations from doctors who documented their injuries. All we have from you is malicious accusations!”

“I know what happened!”

“Of course you do!” Darren replied cheerfully “let’s move on shall we? Tell me about the end of your relationship with Mr Ricciardo.”

“What about it?” Jemma asked rudely.

“How did it come about?” Darren asked briefly looking down at the notepad in his hands. If you could please tell the court in as much detail as possible from your side that’d be great.”

Jem drew herself up and formed her mouth into a thin line.

“It was the end of the twenty twenty season in Abu Dhabi,” she replied crisply “Danny was pissed about finishing seventh in the race, he felt he could have gotten on the podium. He went out drinking with some people from Renault and came back to the hotel, we argued abut him going off and not telling me where he was and one thing led to another and he punched me again. It was then I fled to the airport and returned home to Lon-”

“Oh my fucking god what a load of shit!” Daniel exclaimed far more loudly than he intended “Jesus fucking Christ woman!”

Beside him Ralph grabbed Daniel’s forearm and leaned in to speak to him. Eadaoin felt her chest fill with rage and she involuntarily squeezed Michael’s hand. Max reached across her lap and grabbed her other hand and squeezed it as Justice Wickstead slammed her gavel down on the bench.

“Silence in my court room!” she bellowed “Mr Ricciardo please remain silent, you’ll have your opportunity to speak, refrain from foul language or I’ll expel you from the court and order an adjournment understood?”

Daniel clenched his teeth and inhaled deeply a look of deep rage plastered across his face.

“Yes m’lady.”

“Mr Cook you may resume your questioning of Miss Boskovich.”

“See?” Jem exclaimed “that sort of reaction is only the tip of the iceberg of all the bullshit I had to put up with from your client.”

“Hmmm is it Miss Boskovich is it really?” Darren asked in a sing song tone “I put it to you that you didn’t immediately flee Abu Dhabi once again your name didn’t appear on any flight manifests leaving Abu Dhabi that night or the following night. In fact your name didn’t appear on any passenger manifest, commercial or private til three days later. I have CCTV footage of you at Abu Dhabi Airport on December 16th twenty twenty in the company of a Mr Cyril Abiteboul looking rather cosy the flight you boarded didn’t go to London it went to Paris, Charles De Gaulle airport specifically and there you remained for one month!”

Jem’s jaw dropped as Darren unloaded all this information on her

“Holy shit this is a massacre!” Max muttered under his breath “I’m watching someone get murdered right in front of me!”

“I put it to you Miss Boskovich that the reason your relationship with Mr Ricciardo ended was not because of any alcoholically induced violence on his part it was because you decided to engage in sexual relations with Mr Abiteboul starting in March twenty twenty and Mr Ricciardo literally caught you with your pants around your ankles two days after the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix in the Renault garage. I further put it to you that when Mr Ricciardo ended your relationship the next day you became jealous and enraged and since he ended your relationship you’ve been the one to pester and harass him with phone calls and text messages not the other way round as you so claim-”

“Objection, does the plaintiff have evidence of-” Albrecht exclaimed.

“For the benefit of the court, my learned friend and his client I’d like to introduce a hardcopy version of every text message Mr Ricciardo’s phone received from Miss Boskovich’s phone from December sixteenth twenty twenty right up until seven days ago the date of which was November thirtieth twenty twenty one!” Darren said retrieving three inch thick documents from another of the many manila folders on the desk at the front of the court “Mr Albrecht one for you, one for you m’lady and one for you Miss Boskovich.”

“What am I supposed to do with that?” Jemma snapped.

“That’s up to you Miss Boskovich,” Darren said cheerfully “let’s continue this shall we? I put it to you that when you got no response from Mr Ricciardo you began to stalk him and you alone are the sole source of the ‘information’ provided to Deux Moix, inclusive of two mobile phone videos that were attached to the online article containing the defamatory statements you made about Mr Ricciardo....”

“Objection, those videos could have come from any one of the patrons at the venue that night!” Albrecht exclaimed.

“Deux Moix said themselves your client provided them!” Darren exclaimed incredulously “do you seriously expect-”

Justice Wickstead tapped her gavel on the sound block in front of her.

“Gentlemen lower your voices we are not in a crowded room!” she exclaimed “objection overruled. Mr Albrecht sit down, Mr Cook you may continue.”

“I further put it to you Miss Boskovich you continued to stalk Mr Ricciardo especially after he entered into a new relationship and were caught three months ago on the ninth of July twenty twenty one at the Viaduct Tavern filming him in the company of his new girlfriend Miss Eadaoin O’Siodhachain and their friends Mr Max Emilian Verstappen and Miss Kelly Piquet. By Miss Piquet herself.”

“That bitch tripped me up!” Jemma exclaimed.

“Miss Boskovich please refrain from using foul language in my courtroom!” Justice Wickstead informed Jem sternly “you may continue Mr Cook.”

“And finally Miss Boskovich I put it to you that when Miss O’Siodhachain warned you of your legal obligations in terms of defining stalking and harassment you threaded her with and I quote “you’re going to regret that” and this confrontation is what motivated you to go to Deux Moix and give them the defamatory material that they published on their website three days later! So not only have you lied and lied and lied throughout todays proceedings and under oath wasting the court and everyone in its time you-”

“I stand by what I’ve said” Jem snapped acidly “I know exactly what happened at the hands of your client. This isn’t a criminal trial it’s a defamation one and I’m the one being sued in case you had forgotten.”

“Of course Miss Boskovich I don’t disagree with you,” Darren said cheerfully “this is a defamation trial not a criminal one and as such the characters of all participants are being assessed but what does it day about yours when I have evidence to refute every single one of your claims and have ten people present today willing to get up where you are and truthfully swear under oath that they have never seen Mr Ricciardo act in any way violent either when drunk or sober. One of those people has known Mr Ricciardo for twenty years, longer than you have, and what about all the people who aren’t here today who have given me notarised statements to state similar? I have statements from dozens of people from the staff at Renault/Alpine, Red Bull and McLaren and every single driver on the 2020 grid who are willing to declare that Mr Ricciardo is a kind, helpful, genuine decent person. I don’t see anyone willing to do the same for you....”

“Objection!” Albrecht exclaimed “that last comment was snarky and unnecessary!”

“So is being such a jealous sourpuss about your ex catching you cheating that you run to a notorious gossip publication with the sole intention of defaming them!” Darren exclaimed incredulously “surely even you realise that!”

“SILENCE!” Justice Wickstead bellowed as she belted her gavel down on the bench her aged face clouded with anger “the pair of you grow up! I will not have my court reduced to an arena for name calling and schoolyard squabbles. I understand emotionally this is a highly charged session for client and counsel alike but that doesn’t give any of you an excuse to be, rude, insolent an insubordinate, you especially Miss Boskovich, think very hard about how you answer any question from here on in. Mr Cook is correct in saying lying under oath is a very serious offence understood?”

Jemma’s eyebrows shot up.

“Y-yes m-m’lady.” She stammered

“Alright let’s continue this session like educated grown adults shall we? Mr Cook you may continue.”

“I think I have gotten what I needed from the witness for now m’lady,” Darren replied a with a huge grin “I’d like to proceed with calling my first witness to the stand.”

“Very well, Miss Boskovich you may step down.”

Jemma stood up and returned to her seat beside Albrecht shooting Darren the deepest look of disgust as she went. He just grinned then turned over a page of his notepad.

“M’lady I would now like to call Mr Michael Italiano to the stand.”

*******************************************************************************************

A/N2: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

#Daniel Ricciardo FanFiction

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jacksonstories · 2 months

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In Gods eyes

It's been a minute since I've written anything but I finally got inspo to write again, so yee haw !!

TW: religious trauma, talk of suicide?? maybe ??

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In the eyes of God, everything has a place and reason. Everything happened because it was meant to. God saw me before I did, and felt I should be born from a woman who worked for her family to help them in times of need. He chose for me to be born from a woman who never truly had a childhood so she will take mine away too. God wanted me to be from a man who is always angry and doesn’t know how to stop. He wanted me to be born from two strangers who were fighting against the odds of staying together.

In the eyes of God, I am strong enough to break their cycle. I am strong enough to bear this load on my shoulders of being a better person.

But god, I am no soldier. I’m a coward of a poet who writes my father's anger as it fuels me.

I am my father's daughter and I can’t break the cycle. I fear someday my anger will turn away from me and to someone else as he did. I fear someday my need to prove I can do things will take me to a new house with a man I’ve known for less than a year like my mother.

I know to question God is to question myself, but all I can do is ask. Ask for anything, beg, plead for anything. My knees are ached and bruised from countless nights I spent at my bed praying for God to kill me, make me better than my parents, and make me so I’m not like them. And if that means kill me then please kill me. Strike me down, I know I can’t break this cycle for I am not strong enough.

Oh God please listen to me this once, I would plead for him. Like a mistress pleading with him to leave his wife. As a child I asked for so little, all I wanted was to have friends, maybe a fish or pony, stickers, to die. I was so angry as a child, so enraged by anything. But I was so lonely. I spent birthdays alone, waiting at the kitchen table for the doorbell to ring, streams of paper on the ceiling, and balloons on the floor. I was so lonely.

I am still, so lonely.

#poetry #my poem #poems on tumblr #religion #religious trauma #god #breaking the cycle

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freckleslikestars · 3 years

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not me contemplating making a budget to see if I can buy a cricut to make the workflow of various projects easier and more feasible.

#I want to make a load of little stickers for my friends birthday and for my laptop #and to potentially sell #and I also want to start putting titles on all the books I bind #just to make it easier to pick them up when I'm in a rush #because currently I can't identify them easily #other than remembering which cloth I used for each one #There are a couple of other projects I want to work on too that it would help with #but we have legal fees that are still cropping up and after last month despite the fact that I'm now earning #I don't want to risk another short of cash month because I just don't have the energy for it if it happens again #on the other hand #I have got various jobs that mean I'd be able to afford on with the discount the local craft store have going in the next three weeks.#but I have to see whether it is justifiable #but then I was also thinking about finding a cheap second hand ipad to replace my crappy tablet for digital art #and there is no way in hell I can justify both #so it just depends on which one I can make money with more #and that's a really shitty way to look at life #I actually fucking hate capitalism and monetizing hobbies thing #can't I just make things that I think are cool and look pretty #also I actually just want to make things to give to other people and my friends without charging for them #because I love sending people gifts #no jokes sometimes I just send my best friend random packages with pins or a little painting or whatever #just because everyone likes the feeling of getting a package and I like giving people that feeling

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jerzwriter · 2 years

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Acts of Kindness - Valentine's Day - Intern Year

Book: Open Heart (Book 1)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan)

Rating: Teen

Category: Fluff with a tiny bit of angst

Summary: Valentine’s Day has long been one of Kaycee's favorite holidays, and this year she found a cupid accomplice in her fellow dolphin, Sienna. They manage to ruffle a few feathers as they try to spread cheer around Edenbrook, but can Kaycee's kindness chisel away at the most guarded of hearts?

Words: 2500

A/N: This one was a challenge. I wanted this to be part of my HC for Ethan & Kaycee, so it needed to reflect several things. Kaycee's determination to remain her bright, positive self; the pining that still remained between them (post-Miami); Ethan's resolve to stay away from her; the hospital staff noticing all of it; HER SELF-RESPECT (something PB often left out); and how much he second-guessed his choices. On top of that, I wanted her friends to play a role. I don’t know if I pulled it off in 2500 words, but I tried. Happy Valentine’s Day!

A/N 2: Participating in @choicesfebruary2022challenge - Day 24, Cupcake

A/N 3: Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge To be or not to be... this is still a 💔 not to be (its book 1, people lol)

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS

“Sienna, do you have the cupcakes?”

“I’m boxing them up now,” she yelled in from the kitchen.

“Well, hurry! Our Uber only has to wait five minutes for us, and if they leave, we’re screwed.”

Jackie stood by the doorway, her arms crossed and shaking her head in bewilderment.

“I can not believe that you two are bringing so much crap to work that you have to take an Uber.”

“Jackie,” Kaycee grinned. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Everyone should feel loved today, and that's our mission.”

“Oh, they should feel loved today," Jackie smirked. "What about the other 364 days of the year? Do they count? Or only the one Hallmark tells us we should feel loved on?”

“Of course, every day counts, Jackie! But it’s like a birthday; everyone should feel just a little more special today. For example,” Kaycee slid the aluminum foil off the top of a container she was carrying and pulled out a heart-shaped chocolate chip cookie. “Here!" She placed the cookie in Jackie's hand and a peck on her cheek. "Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Jackie brusquely wiped off her cheek in protest. “Seriously, MacTavish, that’s supposed to make me feel special.”

“Just eat the cookie, Jackie. Then we’ll talk about it,” she winked.

“Less chatting, more running!” Sienna interrupted as she hurried past them. “Now we're really in danger of the Uber leaving.”

“Don't worry!" Kaycee assured. "I’m right behind you!”

"And uhm, save me one of those cookies!" Jackie yelled after them. "What? They're good!"

_____

Bryce and Raf were waiting for them when they arrived at the hospital. Lahela shook his head when he saw the large haul.

“Thanks so much, guys! I don’t think we would have been able to get this all upstairs without your help.”

“How the heck did you two manage to bring this down from your apartment alone?” Bryce asked.

“I’m sure Jackie helped them,” Raf replied.

Kaycee couldn't contain her burst of laughter. “Jackie? Help? You’re funny!” She turned back to Bryce, “It was quite comical. If there were video, I am sure you’d be amused.”

“Hey, I’m not beneath bribing your doorman to get my hands on the security tape. Here, give me that bag.”

All four of them were loaded down. Heart-shaped cookies, elaborately decorated cupcakes, red sugar-free Jello hearts, tons of cards, decorations, stickers… it seemed like they didn’t miss a thing. Inez was in amazement as they walked down the hall. While Zaid muttered something about stupid and Hallmark under his breath before walking away.

“I can’t believe you guys are doing all this!” Inez gushed, “This is going to make everyone feel so special!”

“That’s the goal!” Sienna beamed.

“What, no flowers?” Zaid smirked from across the way.

“No, silly!” Inez responded. “That would compete with the nurse’s annual roses sale! This year the money is going toward pediatric cancer research.”

“A great cause!” Kaycee beamed. "Zaid, I fully expect you to purchase each of your residents a rose today.”

“Ha!” he chortled, “Sure, that’s as likely to happen as an autographed photo of me in my Valentine’s Day jammies. Not happening, MacClennan. Now, finish up. I did not receive word that you’ve resigned to replace Cupid, so according to my schedule, you still have real work to do.”

“He really needs to get laid,” Bryce whispered as Sienna concealed a laugh.

“He just hates holidays," Inez assured. "All of them, really, but this one in particular.”

“That’s too bad,” Kaycee sighed. “I’ve always loved Valentine’s Day.”

Laura, a nurse whose crush on Dr. Ramsey was as strong as her dislike of Kaycee, smirked over her shoulder. “Really?” she sneered, “Even when you don’t have a boyfriend and have to spend it alone?”

“Sure! I don’t need a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, to enjoy Valentine’s Day. It’s about all kinds of love, and I am lucky enough to be surrounded by plenty.”

Sienna gave her friend a side hug just as Ethan approached the nurse's station. His eyes were like stone, and there was a noticeable change in Kaycee's demeanor as he approached.

“What’s all this?” He asked without moving his eyes up from the paperwork in his hands.

Sienna looked worriedly between him and Kaycee, then back again. When it was clear her friend was not going to answer, Sienna jumped in.

“These are just some treats and trinkets we made… for the patients and the staff. We want everyone to feel special today.”

Ethan rolled his eyes dramatically. “And what makes today different than any other day of the year?”

“Uh, it’s Valentine’s Day,” Sienna simpered.

“Well, I don’t believe in such nonsense,” he muttered and hurried away.

“What a freaking shock,” Kaycee muttered, a little louder than she had hoped. Everyone except her scattered, and you could hear a pin drop when Ethan turned on his heel, his icy gaze fixed upon her.

“Excuse me, Dr. MacClennan. Do you have something to say?”

She looked so uncomfortable even Laura appeared to take a small amount of pity on her... for a moment anyway.

“Yes. I do. Frankly, I’m disappointed in your response. Studies have confirmed time and again that when patients feel they are receiving attention and feel cared for, they respond better to treatment, heal faster, and experience more positive outcomes. Surely you can’t object to Dr. Trihn and I wanting to lift their spirits now, can you?”

Onlookers' jaws went slack, but none could divert their eyes from the spectacle. It was like watching the scene of an accident, but the crash had yet to occur. Dr. MacClennan always spoke to Dr. Ramsey more directly than any intern that came before her, and all took notice. But this was a step beyond, even for her. The muscles in his reddened cheeks were taught and his lips pursed. Everyone braced for the outburst that was about to come, but it never took place.

“I suppose you have a point since most people buy into this absurd holiday. Carry on, MacClennan... Trinh.”

If jaws were slack before, they reached the floor now. The hush that had overtaken the station was replaced with whispers and stares.

“He has got to be banging her,” a night nurse loud enough for most to hear.

“He is not!” Laura protested angrily.

“I’m with Laura,” Sarah added, “If he were banging her, he wouldn’t have been so mean to her in the first place.”

Sienna was turning red, desperately wanting to defend her friend. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. But Kaycee had asked everyone to just ignore it, it would be better in the end.

“Don’t you have anything better to do,” Maureen admonished. “This is the last time I want to hear this idle gossip, do you understand? You’re supposed to be professionals!”

Her eyes flicked over to Sienna and then to Kaycee, who smiled with gratitude.

Sienna looked up with sad eyes. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“It is what it is, Sienna. But I assure you, I’m not sleeping with him.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“Good,” Kaycee chirped. "Now, come on, let's go spread some cheer before our rounds begin.”

For the remainder of the day, the two doctors spent their breaks and downtime bringing their treats from room to room. Ms. Gernstein’s room was one of the last Kaycee visited before her shift ended.

“Mrs. Gernstein,” she grinned.

“It’s Clara, Dr. MacClennan. How many times must I tell you.”

“Well, that’s fine, but then I insist, I’m Kaycee.”

“I suppose I could do that,” the old woman agreed. “What are you doing here? You already stopped in before?”

“Oh, that was work; this is social." She handed Clara Jello-heart wrapped in colorful cellophane paper.

“What is this?”

“It's just a little treat for Valentine’s Day.”

Unbeknownst to Kaycee, Ethan was passing by the door, and he stopped when he heard her voice.

“But I can’t have sugar.”

“I know, Mrs. Gern… uh… Clara. That’s why it’s sugar-free.”

“That's too kind,” she gushed, taking Kaycee's hand. “You know, this is the first Valentine I've received in almost fourteen years.”

“Really?”

“Yes, not since my Harry passed away. He always made such a fuss, even though I told him not to.”

“Well, I’m glad I broke that trend. Everyone should get a Valentine." She pulled up a chair and sat next to her patient. "Why don’t you tell me about Harry.”

Ethan could have walked away at any time, there was no reason to stay, but he was mesmerized listening to the women talk. Kaycee's sincerity and warmth were evident, and for all the times he had treated Mrs. Gernstein, he had never heard her sound so joyful and full of hope. If anyone would have seen them, they would have been amazed at the goofy smile on his lips. Dr. Ramsey, as a lovesick puppy, was not a sight anyone was accustomed to. But that look was replaced by one of horror when he heard Kaycee's chair slide back, and she began to leave the room.

“Well, it has been lovely talking to you, Clara, but I have to go finish up. But I promise I will stop by tomorrow.”

“Please do. And Kaycee.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I hope you get a Valentine too!”

“You’re very welcome, Clara. My Valentine is seeing you so happy.”

_____

Her face was aglow when she exited the room. A glance at her watch reminded her that her shift ended fifteen minutes before. She was delighted with how much happiness had been spread, but now she was eager to join her friends at Donahue’s for their Single’s Awareness Day party. She was about to step into the elevator when...

“Dr. MacClennan,” he bellowed.

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey.”

“I need to see you in my office. Right away.”

“Of course,” she said, a long slow sigh escaping her as she followed him.

He pointed to a chair as he circled this desk and told her to take a seat. “Have I done something wrong?”

“On the contrary, you’ve done something right.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been watching you today.”

“You have?” She asked with an arched brow.

“Yes, and… to be honest, I was astounded by the sincere kindness you displayed to our patients.”

She shrugged her shoulders, dismissing his words, “I was just being nice.”

“It went beyond that, Rook… Kay… Dr. MacTavish. You are a rare person, and I hope you know that.”

“I’m just being nice. It's not that hard to do, you know.”

“Meaning?”

“You should try it more frequently. It would be good for you and those around you.”

Embarrassed, his eyes fell to his desk. That’s when he took notice of a small white plate topped with a heart-shaped cookie, a generously iced cupcake, and a little note that read, “Every day is Valentine’s Day when you are loved.”

“What is this?”

“What does it look like? We certainly weren’t going to give one to every staff member and patient on the floor… except for you.”

He lifted the note from the plate and studied it carefully, tilting his head back to her. “This isn’t your handwriting.”

Kaycee leaned over the desk to take a look. “No, it’s not. Sienna wrote that one, we split the job in half to make it easier.”

A tender smile came to his lips and he wasn't sure if it was a result of the sweets, of the smell of her perfume, which he missed more than he admitted.

“When did you find the time?”

“Don’t you know, Dr. Ramsey? Interns don’t sleep. I’ll do that one day when I’m an attending... like you.”

“Ha!” he laughed, “yes. I suppose you will.”

He fell silent for a moment, and Kaycee was about to ask if she could leave the room when he blurted.

“What are you doing tonight?” It was so spontaneous, he startled himself.

“Uh, I don’t know if that’s any of your….”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine," she smiled. "But, if there is nothing else, I….”

“Could you just wait here… just for one minute before you go?”

“Sure,” she said, falling back into her chair. She stared at the clock on his desk in his absence, watching as the hands slowly tick, and she was so fixated she didn't realize he returned.

“Kaycee?”

She looked up to find him standing next to her, a single red rose in his hand.

“It’s one of the flowers the nurses are selling, you know, to raise….”

“Yes, their charity rose sale... I know.”

“Well,” he blushed, handing the stem to her, “I want you to have it. Happy Valentine’s Day, Dr… Kaycee.”

Kaycee took the rose from his hand, smiling softly as she admired its beauty. “It’s beautiful, Ethan. And very sweet of you, but… I can’t accept it.”

Ethan's face crumbled as she placed it back in his hands.

“What, why not?”

“It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“But you….”

“Sienna and I left you a treat. The same as we did for everyone on this floor. Now, if you want to go buy a rose for everyone on the floor, I’ll be happy to accept one from you, but if not... I can’t. I don’t want to hear the nurses grumbling about me sleeping with you anymore… especially when I’m not.”

“They’re WHAT?”

“How long have you worked here? You know how hospital gossip is.”

“I try to pay it no mind.”

“I try to do the same, but sometimes it’s hard when you’re the topic, and you don’t have a private office to retreat to.”

Ethan lowered his eyes and stared at the rose he was twirling between his fingers.

“I understand,” he replied sadly. “Why don’t you get going? I’m sure you have plans this evening, I won’t hold you.”

“Thank you. And I appreciate the gesture. Oh!” she said standing up, “you know what you should do with it?”

“What?”

“Go give it to Mrs. Gernstien in 529. If getting a Jello heart from me made her day, a rose from you should make her happy for the next year. Would you do that?”

“Is that what you want me to do, Kaycee?”

"Yes," she nodded. "It is."

“Then I’ll bring it over to her right away.”

With a slight smile on her lips, she made her way to the office door. Her hand was already on the doorknob when he called out.

“Oh, and Kaycee?”

She turned back over her shoulder. “Yes?’

“Happy Valentine's Day.”

She swallowed and smiled sadly, “Good night, Dr. Ramsey.”

_____

A/N 3: I HC that he took a moment to stare at the rose after she left, feeling the loss of her presence. Then the soft look on his face turned to stone. He hits the speakerphone and tells Maureen to come to his office, where he lambasts her (poor thing had nothing to do with it) for allowing the nurses to gossip about him and Kaycee. The nurses have gossiped about him for years, and he's never cared. Maureen smiles because she knows he really has it bad for his intern. She assures him she'll stay on top of them. He is absolutely incorrigible when dealing with any of them going forward. Word gets back to him that Laura is the ring leader. Every time she sees him, she bats her lashes and smiles, and he is now determined to make her life a living hell. lol

PERMATAGS IN REBLOG.

OH Tags: @aishwarya26 @alina-yol-ramsey @kat-tia801 @onikalvoer @panda9584 @peonyblossom @queencarb @swiminthegarden @toadfrog26

Ethan Only Tags: @rookiemartin @takemyopenheart @gryffindordaughterofathena @sincerelyscarring @cryomyst @mysticaurathings @wanderingamongthewildflowers @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #choices fic writers creations #choices fics writers creations #choices monthly challenge #choices february monthly challenge #fics of the week #cfwc fics of the week #valentines day #valentines day 2022

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bitchassbucky · 3 years

Text

.exe

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: stalkers, bucky being a creepo, reader being a creepo. dark!IT!bucky x dark!reader :-) female & male masturbation, voyeurism (i think), cyber crimes being committed.

A/N: this is my birthday gift to @babyboibucky <3 to my boo, I love you and you have a special place in my heart. this is gonna be a multi-part thing, it's too long to be considered as a one-shot, oops.

please enjoy! :D

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

4:49 PM

Just 11 more minutes until he can pack his bags up for the weekend.

One new ticket - URGENT

Goddamn it.

Bucky pulled his earphones out in annoyance, just another office idiot who doesn’t know how to print A4 sheets. If the office were to be held hostage and printing out was the only thing that can save them, half of the floor would be dead.

The new name caught his eye, Y/N Y/L. A new hire, it seems like.

Subject: One new ticket - URGENT

Hi, this is Y/N, employee number 0008675309. I’m new here and was told to send a ticket for the equipment request.

Thank you and have a great weekend!

Oh, Bucky’s gonna have a great weekend indeed. Out of pure curiosity, he’s already pulled up your employee file. A cute smile to a cute name. His annoyance dispersing already, just by thinking of ways how he can spend time with you.

Hey, Y/N! Bucky types into the text field, Welcome to the company. I’m Bucky and I got assigned to help you get settled. Do you prefer having a desktop or a laptop? I’ve attached a form in this thread, send it to me once you’re done.

Have an awesome weekend too!

As much as he hates sending out chirpy emails, he can’t help but to smile when you immediately send a reply back.

Thanks, Bucky! So sorry for sending in the request super late. Got caught up with the onboarding. Is it okay if I use my laptop until we can get a unit to my place? PC or laptop is fine with me.

Best,

Y/N

Bucky fights off another smile, rubbing his hand over his stubbled cheek as he carefully types out a reply. Unlike other days, he doesn’t mind staying beyond 5 PM today. It’s not like he has other plans for his Friday night.

No worries, Y/N. He’s already loving your name. Happy to help!

Do you have your laptop with you? I can set it up before you go home for the weekend. I can probably send in the ticket to the guys so you can have your work equipment next week.

His deft fingers are dancing over his mechanical keyboard, clacking away while the clock ticks closer to the weekend.

A ping, another reply from you. You’re new, you’re still excited to make friends in the office. If you only knew how stupid they are, though.

Yeah! I have it on me right now. I actually work on the same floor, I can drop it off there right now.

Bucky glances around his office, looking for any reflective surface he can check himself on. He runs his hand through his hair, taming any stubborn locks that fell out of his low bun. His shirt hangs just right against his huge frame, his pants hugging his figure, accentuating his silhouette even more.

Just as the clock ticks 5:00, a soft knock raps against his door, “come in!”

You are cuter, prettier in person. Your perfume hits his nose and he’s floored—metaphorically.

“Mr. Barnes,” you say, your demeanor somewhat meek and shy. Well, of course, you are. Your frame is nothing against the hunk of the man who just stood up to greet you.

“Bucky.” He prompts, smiling. You reciprocated the smile, but you really weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a scrawny little dude mousing away on a keyboard?

“Bucky, thank you so much for doing this. I know you’d rather get off of work since it’s Friday and all.”

He hums, taking your laptop in his hands. You notice the rings adorning his fingers—complementing his tanned skin tone and—it’s not appropriate to stare at a stranger’s hand.

Heat creeps up your face as he turns to look at the stickers stuck to your laptop, “you know, I like this band.” Bucky says, pointing to an old sticker, he carefully sets down your laptop on his workstation.

“They’re great,” you muse, taking a seat on a plastic chair by the door.

You take a gander around his small office. There was nothing out of the ordinary but the big black server blinking at the back, so why do you feel trapped?

“Sorry about the temp, we have to keep the room cold for the server in the back,” Bucky explains, noticing how your arms are crossed over your chest. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing you any better too.

You stammer out an it’s okay with a small smile.

Bucky worked on your computer quietly, using a USB stick to load all the applications you need to set up a temporary work account on your laptop. After a few minutes, he beckoned you to come here. You scoot over to his desk, rolling the chair forward and beside him. Not too close though.

“So, this note has all your generated passwords. Type those into the app when you first log in, then you can change it if you want to.” Bucky explains, the cursor idles on the screen. He tries not to get too close to you, to give you personal space. It’s a professional workplace after all.

“This app,” he drags a window, pulling up an application, “tracks your hours and your keystrokes. It’s company-mandated because managers want to micro-manage their people, I guess.” Bucky shrugs, his disdain showing through his voice. His tone shifting lower than what you’d expected.

“Sorry, I just hate their new protocol,” his face and voice softening as he looks at you, “it’s a total privacy breach if you ask me.”

You’d normally disagree but something tells you that maybe he’s got a point. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leans closer as if to whisper something, “this note right here? It’s a nifty thing, a little script so your computer doesn’t go to sleep when you’re away. It enables and disables your numlock pad so it counts as a keystroke.”

A smirk finds its place on your face, “well, that’s…something, isn’t it?”

Never in your life would you find yourself flirting with a co-worker but there’s something about Bucky that made you excited. Interested. Intrigued.

Bucky nods, rolling his chair away to fetch a pad of sticky notes. “Another thing from your friendly neighborhood IT guy,” he peels off a leaf and sticks it on your laptop’s built-in camera, “keep your cam covered.”

You give him a chuckle and a playful salute, “yes, sir.”

Bucky’s a modern man. He sees a pretty girl and he gets giddy. He talks to a pretty girl and he gets flustered. But you—you make him feel more than giddy and flustered. There was something familiar about you, and your eyes. Has he seen you before? Met you, even? No, that’s impossible—if he had met you before, he’d surely remember you.

It was 5:34 PM when he gave you your laptop back and sent in an urgent request for your equipment. While taking down the elevator to the lobby, Bucky gave you a few tips on how to ‘survive’ working in the office. According to him, as far as you go in on time and kept your head above the rumors, you’d do fine.

He asked about your first week and he told you about this joint near the building that serves the best burgers and fries.

You’ve got a good feeling that you just made your first friend.

—

The sun was already setting down when you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. At the very last minute, you turned into a drive-through and got some food on the go. The side trip took out 10 minutes of your time but at least you dodged the awful traffic that was building up by the highway.

Along with your laptop bag and your food, you trudge up to your third-floor apartment. It wasn’t what you wanted—the windows faced the street, the screen door doesn’t lock all the way—but it’s the one you got. As long as it’s got four walls and a roof, right?

You slip out of your work clothes and into some comfy jammies after a rewarding shower; the sooner you can get your food heat up, the sooner you can eat, and drink and then go to sleep.

So while waiting for the microwave to beep, you pry open your laptop. You told Bucky not to shut it down after he worked on it as to not lose your work on another profile, which he understood.

The work account he set up greeted you, along with the bright pink sticky note he stuck to your webcam. That wasn’t real, was it? All those cautionary tales of hackers using webcams to peep on you. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you, like some kind of initiation. Without a second thought, you took off the sticky note. It was kinda annoying anyway.

Clicking the Log Out Work button, your personal account popped into the frame. Your opened apps and documents displaying themselves for you to use. You pulled up Spotify and clicked on the first playlist you saw—which happened to be your intimate playlist.

Sure, the Pavlov reaction is real because halfway through the first song, you already found yourself getting all hot and bothered. This one’s your favorite song too.

You groan in annoyance, your food’s no longer a priority.

Picking up the laptop from the table, you walk to your bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You live alone, it’s fine. You put the laptop on its loudest setting, setting it on your desk and you plopped down on your bed, the pillows and the comforter pooling on one side.

Your room is illuminated by a streak of light from the street. Your curtains flowing softly with the breeze that just came in.

Glancing at your laptop, you remembered Bucky. How his office smelled when you first walked in. How he stood tall when he greeted you. How he smiled. Those goddamn rings of his.

Before you caught yourself thinking rationally, your fingers are already splayed even over your thighs, caressing the soft flesh of your legs.

Bucky’s smirk and his cologne finding purchase in your fogged brain. Thoughts of him pulling you aside into his office to fool around—voices above hushed whispers as your skin erupts in goosebumps, the chilled air of his office finding its way up to your spine.

Oh, fuck it.

You undress fast, flinging your shirt over your head, dropping it somewhere below the bed. The air in your room making your nipples hard and erect as you pinch them. You breathe out a sigh, the heat of the moment creeping up your torso.

The material of your panties dampening as you imagine yourself bent over his desk, your skirt bunched over your hips as he laps your sopping cunt. Bucky’s tongue exploring your folds up and over until your pussy’s a quivering mess of drool and spit.

Your fingers slip past the band of your underwear. Even you surprised yourself by how wet you are.

God, you met him once and he’s already inching his way into your mind.

But who could blame you? You’ve been all over his Facebook profile when you learned his name via the office’s organizational chart. The first time you saw him, walking around the office with a laptop in his hands, you already knew you wanted to at least formally meet him. A scroll on his page, you found a band that you could tolerate listening to. (They’re okay, just not your taste in music.)

A plan came to mind when your department head told the team that you can work from home from time to time—only if you agreed to use a work laptop, a company-owned one. Your manager advised you to put in the request as soon as you can, for you to secure a unit before the on-hand supplies dwindle.

Deliberately sending in the request late—way, way later—than what your manager told you just so you could pull up the ‘new hire’ card and act dumb.

And it looked like he bought it too.

The image of him fucking you quiet while he grabs you from behind played inside your mind like a memory—a vision. Of how his thick cock would fill you up until your pussy is clenching around him. Would he pinch your throbbing clit, making you squirm and cream around him?

Your fingers are compared nothing to his, that’s for sure. But it does the work for now.

A breathy moan comes out of your mouth as you play with your clit, your cunt dripping down wetness as you continue to fondle your tits.

His hands would make a great addition to your chokers.

Your toes curl and your breath quickens, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening—white-hot heat creeping up your limbs.

Oh, fuck, Bucky!

—

His ears perked up as he heard you moaning his name.

Bucky was busy watching you enjoy yourself when he got caught in the moment and decided to enjoy himself too.

He was barely keeping himself behaved when you first walked into the floor wearing a button-up and slacks that accentuated your backside. Bucky wished he was the one who gave you the tour and know your name for the first time, but that was impossible—he was in the IT department.

So when he got the news that new hires will be given the chance to work from home, he hoped that he gets to be the one to help you set up.

He was losing hope by the time he got your request, he thought that you opt not to work at home but then there you were, sending him an apologetic email on a late Friday afternoon.

Of course, he happily obliged. He even set up himself a little virtual camp in the background of your computer just so he can continue spending time with you.

Just thinking about you is already making him hard again. Bucky already came in hot spurts of white as he watched you desperately undress earlier. What can he say—he was waiting for you to show your tits already. As such, he correctly guessed that you’d be annoyed with the glaringly bright sticky note he used to ‘cover’ your webcam with.

But seeing you fingerfuck yourself all alone just wasn’t enough for him, he has to have you all by yourself.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff

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little-fam-ily · 3 years

Text

Build a Bear (Sanders Sides Agere Oneshot)

Read it on ao3

Rating: G

Word Count: 4,079

Characters: CG Logan and Patton, Agere Virgil

Pairings: Queerplatonic Analogical, platonic Analogicality

Warnings: Kink mention

Summary: In which Logan and Virgil take a trip to Build a Bear (brought to you by a Build a Bear employee).

Virgil’s eyes widened as he stared at the commercial on the TV. It was for Build a Bear, talking about how you can put different sounds in ‘your new furry friends’. He smiled around his pacifier. “Lolo!” He called to Logan, his caregiver.

Logan popped his head in from the kitchen, “What is it?”

Virgil pointed to the TV. Logan was able to catch just the end of the ad. “Virgil, I don’t think-” He stopped himself as he looked at Virgil’s wide, pleading eyes. “Oh, oh Virgil, don’t,” He sighed, “You know what the puppy eyes do to me.”

Virgil just let out a whine. Logan looked at him sternly, “You know they’re very expensive, Virgil.”

He nodded, “I know…” He glanced away, cheeks red. Logan shook his head, thinking about it, “Well, it’s almost your birthday anyway, We’ll make a day of it.”

Virgil smiled wide, “Weally?”

Logan nodded, “Really really.”

Virgil jumped up and embraced him in a hug, squeezing tight, “T’ank you, Lolo!”

Soon the day came, and Virgil and Logan sat in the car, getting ready to go into the mall. Virgil was sucking his thumb, and Logan was looking at him with concern, “Do you think you can be big enough to pass?”

Virgil glanced at him, cheeks turning pink. He dragged his thumb out of his mouth, stopping at the tip where he could still bite down.

Logan sighed, “Better.” He paused before he spoke up again, “Virgil, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You don’t have to hide it if you don’t want to.”

Virgil whined, “I jus’, don’ wan’ people t’inking i’s kink.” He murmured around his thumb.

Logan nodded, “That’s understandable. But what we do is none of their business. I’m pretty sure the average person doesn’t care, and if they do, then they’re not a good person.”

Virgil glanced away. Logan let out a sympathetic breath, “Well, if you’re ready I’m ready.”

Virgil nodded. Logan stepped out of the car, then helped Virgil out of the car. They walked into the mall holding hands.

The line to Build a Bear was already a mile long. They got in, and Virgil was ancy with anticipation. The wait seemed like hours. Logan could tell he was getting impatient, so he squeezed his hand. They smiled at each other.

Finally they got to the door. They were greeted by a young woman with long brown hair and a wide smile. Her name tag read Valerie.

“Hey there! What brings you to the workshop today?” She smiled. Virgil panicked, looking to Logan for help.

“It’s his birthday next week, but I thought I’d take him early.” Logan turned to her. Her smile grew wider, “Wow, that’s great!” She got out a sharpie and a pack of stickers from her apron, “How old are you turning, sweetheart?”

Virgil took a deep breath, preparing himself to answer, “Twenty.”

“And your name?”

“V-” He started, but stopped himself, having to pause for another moment, “Virgil.”

She wrote everything down, tearing the sticker off and handing it to him, “And have you built a bear with us before?”

Logan and Virgil glanced at each other, then back to her, shaking their heads.

Valerie kept her smile, “So to your left is the wall where we have our whole selection of bears to choose from. Once you pick your new friend you’ll head over to the sound station to pick any scents or sounds that you’d like.

“Then you’ll come around over to that blue square where we’ll stuff your friend and perform the heart ceremony. After we get them stitched up you’ll go to the back wall to get their clothing and accessories, head to Station 4 to give them a name, and then you’ll be all ready to check out and take your new friend home!”

Virgil’s breathing became shallow. That was a lot to keep track of. Logan sensed his anxiety, squeezing his hand, “Ready to head on in?”

He looked at him, hesitantly nodding his head. Valerie opened the rope barrier and stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter.

They stepped in, and Virgil was already overwhelmed by the large selection of stuffed animals. There were more than bears, there were rabbits and cats and monkeys and unicorns. There were themed bears too, like Frozen and Star Wars and Paw Patrol.

Virgil’s eyes scanned the wall, biting down on his thumb hard. Logan stepped up to him, “I know it’s a lot to think about, and there are a lot of steps, but I remember all of it, and I will be with you every step of the way.”

Virgil nodded, then his eyes widened as they settled on a fluffy brown bear with the Harry Potter logo printed on its back paw. He pointed to it, “Harry Potter bear.”

Logan smirked, “You want that one? We can put some Ravenclaw accessories on it.”

Virgil smiled wide, nodding. He grabbed the unstuffed pelt and felt the fur, holding it close to his chest.

Logan smiled at his little, then noticed the birthday sticker still in his hand. “Here, let me help you with that,” He took the sticker, peeled it off the back, and stuck it right on Virgil’s jacket, “There we go.”

Virgil smiled at him, leaning on his chest. They stayed like that for a bit, then a young man with an apron walked up to them with a smile, “Have we picked our new friend?”

Virgil looked at Logan, then at the man, who’s name tag read Terrence, nodding.

“Alright! Right this way,” Terrence beckoned them over to a white counter with computers on each end. He reached for Virgil’s bear, “Can I see him real quick?”

Virgil glanced at Logan, then hesitantly handed over the pelt. Terrence pulled a sharpie out of his apron and started writing on the tag, “I see your name is Virgil, is that right?”

Virgil nodded. Terrence put the sharpie away, “And I can also see it’s your birthday! Well, have a very happy birthday,” He smiled, then continued, “Now, we have some scents you can choose from. We have strawberry, birthday cake, cotton candy, and bubblegum.”

Both Virgil and Logan took some time smelling the scents. “Strawberry,” Virgil decided.

“Alright!” Terrence got out his sharpie and wrote some things down on the tag, then took an unopened scent packet, peeled a sticker off, then stuck the sticker on the tag. The scent was a plastic disk shaped like a bear head.

“Now we get to pick a sound we put in the paw of the bear right here.” He showed them the right paw, which had a little heart shaped patch on it.

Virgil smiled. This was the part he was the most excited for.

Terrence moved to one of the computer monitors, “Here is the sound station, we have a huge selection of sounds to choose from. You can scroll up and down as well as side to side. There are generic animal sounds, themed sounds from movies and TV. I see you picked a Harry Potter bear, maybe you’d like a Harry Potter sound?”

Virgil thought about it, scrolling through the Harry Potter selection. He looked, but decided it would be best to just pick the theme from the movie.

He pressed the icon, jumping at the loud noise coming from the computer. Logan grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb.

“Alright, I’m just gonna scan his tag really quick.” Terrence moved the tag under the scanner. “Now you’re going to grab one of those chips,” He pointed to a hole in the counter which housed a bunch of plastic sound bytes shaped like bear heads. Virgil did as he was told, holding it tight.

“Place it right here,” He pointed to a little divot in the counter where the chip fit perfectly. Virgil set it right in. Then Terrence pressed the ‘buy’ button on the screen, which started loading. It only took a couple of seconds for the sound to be transferred to the chip.

“Great! Now press it to see if it works.” Terrence smiled. Virgil pressed it, holding it up to his ear. That was a bad idea, as he immediately had to move it away.

“Looks like it works!” Terrence chuckled, then took the chip and pushed it into the bear’s paw. “You’re all set! Once that group is done with their heart ceremony you’ll move right on up to that blue square where my friend Mr. Patton will get this little guy all stuffed up for yah.”

Logan and Virgil nodded. “Thank you,” Logan smiled, then turned towards the machine. Virgil tried to get a look at what was going on up ahead, but they were too far away to see or hear anything.

The wait seemed like forever, but soon it was their turn. The young man working the machine got up from his chair and turned towards them, “Alright folks, are we all good to go?”

Virgil smiled slightly as he noticed a shiny they/them pin on their apron. They had a mop of curly brown hair on their head, and circular glasses were perched on their freckled nose.

He looked at Logan, then nodded. Patton smiled, “Great! I’m gonna have you come around this way to that blue square over there.” They pointed to a large blue sticker on the floor next to the front counter. It had white paw prints on it.

They both stepped on the square, waiting to get started.

“See, the thing about this machine is that it needs energy to get it working, right?” Patton started as they put the pelt on the nozzle. “So that means you gotta either hop hop hop! Or clap clap clap! Or wiggle wiggle wiggle! To get the machine running. Do you think you can do that, kiddo?”

Virgil’s eyes widened as he blushed at the pet name. Yes, he did indeed want to clap clap clap, or hop hop hop, or wiggle wiggle wiggle, but he didn’t want to do it alone. He tugged on Logan’s sleeve. Logan blinked, “Oh, do I? Do I have to do it too?”

“If you want!” Patton smiled. Logan sighed, rolling his eyes, but nodded.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Patton exclaimed as they turned on the machine. Logan and Virgil started clapping, and Patton stepped on a pedal, moving the bear around the nozzle to get the stuffing in every limb, its chest, and its head.

“Alright! Great job kiddo!” Patton smiled as they took their foot off the pedal and the bear off the nozzle, checking it themself to see if it was the right softness.

“Now for the scent. Do you want it in the head or the belly?” They asked. Virgil bit down on his thumb. There were so many decisions to make! It was getting a bit much.

Logan sensed this, “We’ll do it in the belly.”

“Okay,” Patton smiled, taking the disc out of its plastic sleeve and slipping it into the bear through the hole in the back.

“Now we get to choose a heart! There’s either a red satin heart or a checkered heart.” Patton picked up two felt hearts from two bins on the machine and held them up, “Which one would you like, kiddo?”

Virgil’s eyes flitted between the two. After a pause Patton spoke up, "I know, it's a hard decision to make."

After another moment Virgil decided on the red one, pointing to it. Patton smiled, "Alright!" They placed the heart to the side, then picked another heart up, this one big and plastic, "We also have a beating heart option! We put it in the chest of the bear, and when you press down on it, it beats like a heart!"

Virgil’s eyes widened. He looked at Logan with them, pouting his lip a little. Logan smiled at him, giving him a nod. Virgil turned back to Patton, nodding enthusiastically.

"Okay!" Patton smiled, taking a heart, peeling the sticker off, and putting the sticker on the tag. They then placed the heart right in the front of the bear’s chest where a human’s heart would be.

“Now,” Patton said as they got up from their chair and took the now stuffed bear and the heart to the counter Logan and Virgil were standing next to.

“We are going to perform what is called the ‘squish test’. Which means you take your new friend and you give him the biggest hug that you possibly can!” They wrapped their arms around themself, “To see if he’s either as soft or firm enough as you want.”

They turned to Logan, “And if he’s too firm we can always take stuffing out, and if he’s too soft we can always put stuffing in.”

Logan nodded, then turned to Virgil, “Do you want to give him a hug?”

Virgil nodded, walking up to where the bear was sitting and grabbing it, feeling its arms, legs, chest, and head. He then embraced it in his arms, holding it as tight as he could. He smiled as he felt the pulsing of the heartbeat.

“Is he good?” Patton asked. Virgil turned to him, nodding.

“Perfect!” They smiled, “If you would put your friend back on the hug station, we are going to perform the Heart Ceremony,” They put emphasis on the last two words, “The most important step in this entire process! You’re going to take your heart.”

It took a minute for the request to process in his brain, but Virgil went back to the counter, put the bear back where it was sitting, and grabbed his heart.

“Now we gotta get it beating, alright kiddo? So you’re going to take it, hold it up like this,” They held it high above their head. Virgil did the same.

“And you gotta wiggle it like this!” Patton started waving their hand around. A smile broke out on Virgil’s face as he mimicked their movements. They wiggled for a moment, Patton giggling, “Do you think you got it beating, kiddo?”

Virgil nodded, smile not fading. Patton smiled at him, “Alright, now you’re going to go to your new friend, and you gotta wave it in his ears so that he’s a good listener!”

Virgil stepped over to the bear and waved the heart over its ears.

“Wave it on his arms so he can give you great big hugs!”

He waved it over its arms.

“Wave it on his legs so he can run and play with you all day!”

He waved it over its legs.

“Now grip your heart, hold it close, and make a great big wish!”

He held it close to his chest, closed his eyes and made his wish, I wish for me and Logan to live together forever.

“Did you make your wish?” Patton smiled. Virgil opened his eyes, smiling back as he nodded.

“Great! Now you get to do the honor of putting that heart into your friend through the hole in the back.”

Virgil grabbed the bear and shoved the heart in as far as it could go.

Patton gave a nod, “Alright, now if you would put your friend back on the hug station and step right back on that blue square, I’m gonna do the hard job of stitching him up, okay?”

Virgil nodded, doing as he was told. Patton stepped up to the counter and started pulling on the stitches. They glanced at Virgil's sticker, “I see it’s your birthday today!”

“In a week,” Logan corrected them. They nodded, “Oh! Okay, well, happy early birthday!” They looked closer, “And you’re turning twenty! Wow! I turned twenty this January!”

“Interesting.” Logan commented. Patton tied the last knot, cutting the extra string off. “Alright! This little guy is good to go! I’m gonna have you come around this way,” they pointed to their right, “to the back to pick out his clothing and accessories. Then you’ll take that tag to station 4 and scan it to give him his name!”

“Alright, thank you.” Logan smiled, leading Virgil around the direction Patton pointed them towards. Virgil looked back one last time to see Patton waving at him. He waved back shyly.

Thankfully the Harry Potter clothing section was right next to the stuffed animal section. Virgil’s eyes scanned the wall. He definitely wanted the traditional robes and a wand. But then he spotted a Quidditch uniform, along with a broom and a snitch.

He gasped slightly, turning to Logan, who nodded, “You can get both outfits if you’d like.”

Virgil whined, “But i’s ‘spensive…” He glanced away, biting his thumb.

Logan chuckled, “Virgil, it’s your birthday, and it’s you. You’re worth it. Besides, I’m getting paid soon anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”

Virgil scrunched his nose, but took both the normal uniform and accessories and the Quidditch uniform and accessories off the hangers. He had to get on his tip-toes to reach some of them, but he got the hang of it.

“I’m guessing he’s a seeker, hm?” Logan hummed. Virgil nodded. Logan gave a nod back, “Alright, let’s give him a name, shall we?”

They walked over to the back corner on the other side of the store, where Station 4 was. Logan pressed some buttons, scanned the tag, and a menu popped up asking them to put in information for the bear’s birth certificate.

Now it was time to pick a name. Virgil bit down on his thumb, thinking very hard. Logan tilted his head, “What would you like to name him?”

Virgil smiled mischievously, “Logan!”

Logan scoffed, “Virgil, please. Pick an original name!”

“I’s original! ‘N Logan’s my favorite name!” Virgil beamed, turning back to the screen and typing in the name, “Logan the seeker.”

After the bear’s birth certificate was printed out, they walked up to the cash register. The young man standing at the register’s name tag read Joan. “Alright, are we all set?”

Logan nodded, putting all their findings on the counter. Virgil bit down on his thumb as he watched Joan scan the tags, starting to zone out. He wasn’t really interested in this part.

“Would you like to dress it here or when you get home?” Joan asked him. His eyes widened as he was snapped out of his daydreaming. He looked at them, then at Logan, then back to them. “Um, home,” He responded, now ancy to leave.

“Alright, would you like to hold it or put it in a box?” They asked. Virgil whined a bit under his breath. This was way too many questions for one day. “Box.”

Joan nodded at his firm answer. “Alright, with all of the accessories, your total comes out to one hundred and thirty five dollars, and forty five cents.”

Virgil gasped, looking at Logan with concern. That was a huge number. Logan just smiled at him reassuringly, “It’s alright Virgil, I really don’t mind,” He turned to Joan, “He’s a little concerned with money right now.”

“Oh I totally understand that,” They gave a smile, “I mean, I’m working two jobs and even I can’t afford to pay rent sometimes.” They turned back to the computer, muttering to themself, “Late stage capitalism.”

They took the bear and put it in a box, then bagged up all the clothes, “You should be all set. Oh! It’s your birthday! We have to ring the birthday bell!”

As they picked up a large bell from the shelf behind them, Logan squeezed Virgil’s hand, “It’s going to make a very loud noise, Virgil.”

Virgil looked at him as he braced himself. The loud ring of the bell crashed in his ears, running through his entire body. He cringed as he shut his eyes, stopping himself from covering his ears.

Then it was over, and he was able to open his eyes again. Logan leaned into his ear, “Good job.” He smiled. Virgil smiled back.

Then they were all good to go. Logan took the box and the bag, and grabbed Virgil’s hand as he led both of them out.

“Have a good day, kiddo!” Patton called with a smile as they walked past the machine. They both glanced at them. “Thank you.” Logan said before finally reaching the door.

“So, what did you wish for during the heart ceremony?” Logan asked as they took their purchases and headed for other stores, mostly Hot Topic.

“I tan’t tell you!” Virgil teased, “Or it won’t tome true.”

---------------------------------------------------------

Patton smiled to themself as they walked into the back room, unlocking their locker and taking their backpack out. Once they made sure everything was still in check, they took their apron off and slipped it in their locker, closing it and locking it again.

Today was another great day at work. Patton loved their job, really loved their job. They got to interact with all the cute kids and families that came in, and they adored all the smiles and giggles the heart ceremony provided.

There was always at least one memorable family that came in, and today it was a young couple, one of which had his birthday today. His name was Virgil, Patton remembered.

He was memorable because of one fact. Patton could see it in his eyes, in his posture, in his energy.

Patton got to meet a little.

They themself had been a babysitter for a couple of years now. Their friend Roman was a little, and when her partner Janus was busy, Patton got to babysit her. It brought them a lot of comfort and happiness, and they one day hoped to have a little of their own.

A pang of disappointment hit their chest. Virgil seemed so adorable and fun and loving, but it looked like he already had a caregiver. But they were happy for him nonetheless.

They brought themself out of their thoughts as they headed on out, waving goodbye to their coworkers. Their brisk walking speed got them to the food court fairly quickly, where they planned to have sushi for lunch.

But their eyes widened as they caught sight of a couple across the food court. It was Virgil and his caregiver! A smile broke out on their face, and they knew they had to take this opportunity to get to know them better.

They rushed to Virgil’s table, slowing down a bit as they got closer, “Hey! You guys are still here!”

They both turned to them, and Virgil jumped, quickly taking his thumb out of his mouth. His caregiver nodded, “Yes, we took a bit of time to do some extra shopping and get some food.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I was able to catch you guys! It was just the end of my shift so…” They smiled, trailing off a bit. “We didn’t really get to actually meet. I’m Patton!” They held out their hand.

“Logan,” Virgil’s caregiver took it, shaking firmly. Virgil just waved slightly, “Virgil.”

“Yeah, well, it was really nice to meet you guys! I hope you had fun, I always do.” They laughed nervously, trying so desperately not to make it awkward.

“Yes, I can confirm that our experience was most enjoyable, don’t you agree, Virgil?” Logan said, then turned to him. He nodded with a small smile on his face.

Patton stood there for a moment. They knew what they wanted to do, they just didn’t know if they had the guts to actually do it. “Hey, I don’t usually do stuff like this, but, can I get your guys’ Instagrams?”

“Oh, I don’t have one, but, Virgil? If that’s alright with you?” Logan asked him. He looked to Logan, then to Patton, but eventually nodded.

Patton smiled wide, “Great! Uh, here’s my phone, you can just put it in.” They handed Virgil their phone. He took it, quickly typing in his username in the search bar. He handed it back to them, a shy smile on his face.

“Great! Thank you! Again, it was really nice meeting you!” Patton beamed.

“It was a pleasure meeting you as well, Patton.” Logan responded. Virgil nodded in agreement.

Patton let out a sigh of relief, giving one last wave before heading down the food court the other way. They couldn’t help but continue to smile as they skipped along, soon reaching the sushi restaurant. They didn’t know how yet, but they knew this was the start of something special.

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glitterge1pen · 3 years

Text

Have You Ever Considered Craft Supplies Instead Of Drugs? Then This Might Be For You.

Kyōtani Kentarou x reader, sfw, fluff, 1,691word count

His room for the most part was clean. It’s main function was for sleep though. This was apparent. His clothes, which were mainly basketball shorts and blank t-shirts, were scattered about in a way that told you he threw them there when going to bed.

Kyotani had told you to give him a few minutes, while he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and struggling with the cap of his eyeliner pen. You felt comfortable enough in his apartment to check the fridge and see if anything was worth your while. But still you felt a bit like an intruder in his bedroom, which is where you had wandered off to.

The walls were white, mostly bare. There was a poster up for some band you didn't recognize, and another one advertising the Sendai Frogs that looked like he had ripped it off one wall to get onto his. You smiled at the thought of him stealing the poster from the grocery store display window or stadium parking lot.

You give his room one last once over before turning to leave. On your way out you trip over a shoe box. You would have just ignored it but a few tufts of paper flew out from the lid. You bend down to collect them but find that these aren't just trash from the shoe box. Quietly, and with a tinge of guilt, you kneel down to gently put the papers back in the box. The little scraps of paper you had found were actually sticky notes, you couldn't decipher the writing on them because of how faded and old the paper was.

You get one quick glimpse inside the shoe box on Kyotani’s floor. There are dozens of papers, printed photos, receipts, tickets, and what you assume are old keys. You feel like you've seen something very private of Kyotani’s and when you turn around to find him standing in the doorway, you gasp in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

He seems more concerned and confused about you versus the fact that you are in his room. You decide sarcasm is the best choice of action.

“What? You embarrassed about me being in your bedroom?”

“Shut up and get out!”

Kyotani puts his hands on your shoulders and tosses you out into the hallway.

“Hey, hey, what time is it because we might actually be late to the movie now,”

You say pulling out your phone to get a glance at the clock. There was only twenty minutes before you were supposed to be at the theater.

“We’ll be fine, the trailers always play for too long anyways”

He says leading you out the front door.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

When the team wins a game and you head out to eat with the guys afterwards, your eyes don't usually follow Kyotani’s hands so closely. You hope that no one else has picked up on your new habit. But last week's venture into his bedroom has left you reeling in thought.

Kyotani doesn't really like to be hugged. During movie nights he sits separate from the pile of pillows and bodies. He tolerates head pats and high fives. When he hangs up the phone you can feel how difficult it is for him to say something like “bye I love you” platonic or not.

You hadn't really considered it before, at least not so intently in relation to Kyotani. Most people were easy to understand in their affections and how they garnered it. Or if they weren't so obvious, they made some sort of distinction, a simple “I don't like when people do this” or “I prefer this”.

Being friends with Kyotani you had assumed that he was content with what people gave him because he never asked for more. He didn't hug you when you two parted ways, and you never forced him to. He didn't ask or push on others boundaries but now after seeing that shoe box you wondered why he had never advocated for his own. You thought perhaps it wasnt that Kyotani disliked those other forms of affection or care, but rather he didn't regard those other acts as affections at all.

The sounds of the restaurant fade back in as your thoughts simmer down. You feel Tsukishima and Yamaguchi next to you. Enthralled in a conversation about some show they had been binging together. Apparently Yamaguchi had watched a few episodes without Tsukishima and everyone found the annoyed, bitter expression on Tsukishima hilarious, the table erupting in laughter.

“You good? You've been staring at nothing for five minutes,”

Kyotani said to you before taking another bite into his food. He sat across from you, his elbows propping him up over his plate of food.

“Yeah, just tired today,”

You say shaking your head as if trying to wake yourself up.

As the evening wears on, your eyes still follow Kyotani’s hands. Trying to catch the moment of thievery in action. To see if your contemplations are grounded in Kyotani’s actions or rather thoughts with nothing to hold as they pass you by.

But as everyone files out of the restaurant, the bill already split, the copy of the receipt abandoned on the table, you watch as Kyotani lingers for just a moment, to pocket the slip of paper.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You couldn't remember the last time you had attempted to burn a CD. Was it you who did it or a friend? It was years ago though that was for sure. You had made three playlists on spotify, checking and double checking that they were private playlists. After arranging them and finding the songs that fit just right with each list you started finding youtube videos of each song. From there you converted the links to MP3 audio.

While your computer whirred and the audio filed loaded onto the disk you thought about decorating the CD cases. Of course covering the clear plastic case with glitter gel pen and cute stickers was very tempting. But you weren't sure that was Kyotani’s style. At the same time this was supposed to be a gift from you. You met yourself halfway. Decorating one CD case like how you would have wanted, and the other with more of a Kyotani flair, the third somewhere in between the two.

When the CD’s were done you carefully placed them into their new plastic homes. Grabbing a black sharpie to scribble the playlist names onto each. You felt like wrapping them would be too extravagant so you settled for tying a ribbon around the two.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What the hell do you want?” Kyotani says as he pulls up next to you on the curb outside your place. You had texted him earlier while he was at work, asking if could stop by after he got off. He has the window rolled down and you take it upon yourself to unlock the passenger door and climb inside.

"I wanted you to test these out"

You were hoping that you had done everything right with the computer.You hand him the CD's, he flips them over in his hands inspecting them.

“Is it cool if I take these ribbons off?”

You nod and he turns the car radio on to insert the CD’s. As the first song starts playing you turn to him.

“This is that band you like right? The one on that poster in your room?”

Kyotani is visibly flustered by this.

“Yes? Did you...did you make these for me?”

You throw your head back in a laugh.

“Yes, I made them for you,”

“Oh,”

He says in a rather soft amazed tone.

“Look, I didn't mean to, but when I was in your room the other day I tripped over that shoe box you have,”

You keep your eyes trained on the street outside the dashboard window. Unsure and a bit nervous to see what Kyotani is thinking. Tempted by curiosity though, you do look at him for a brief moment, only to find him also intensely staring off into the street. His face lit up red with embarrassment.

“I’m glad that I saw it though. Because that stuff is important to you and I want to know what you think is important”

The air in the car feels like it is clinging to your skin with tension. You think the pressure will start to crack your bones when Kyotani’s voice splinters the suspense.

“It's easier to feel something when its tangible, when you can hold it, it's why people still buy polaroids and go to museums and shit”

You nod, a jovial ease overcoming you as he continues to speak.

“I don't really like, uh, I guess physical affection or even talking or it’s not like talking, people call it words of affirmation or whatever,”

You hold the smile of your lips down, you don't want him to think you’re teasing him in this moment. You're just happy that he is comfortable enough with you to say such things.

“I know lots of other people like to have those types of things though, and I worked really hard to get used to stuff, but I don't know, this is what I like,”

He says gesturing with the CD case to you.

“I mean so like, birthday cards, post-it notes, bus transfers? Things that are directly attached to memories and people? Anything else you want me to know about?”

While it hurts a little that he’s struggling to talk about this matter, you can't help but revel in the unusual brash shyness of Kyotani. He does mutter something, but when you lean in closer to signal that you didn't hear him the first time he repeats himself.

“Event pamphlets. I know it's trash but I like it”

“Promise you won't get mad?”

You drawl your voice out and make it sweet so he knows you're messing with him.

“Hm?”

He says, eyebrow quirked in question.

“I think you'd be really into scrapbooking”

“Shut the hell up before I kick you out of my car”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: Took a break from my current writing obsession to spit this out .

#kyotani x reader #kyōtani kentarō #kyoutani kentarou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #kyoutani kentarou x reader

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some-kindofgnome · 3 years

Text

august slipped away

i. ii.

Otherwise known as the Thanksgiving fic.

characters: mirio x f!reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), quirkless AU, angst, Thanksgiving long-distance woes, mirio’s very ugly little subaru

notes: Happy Birthday @drapetomaniac! I’m so glad I was able to get this finished on time. I’m so grateful to have met you on this lil site, so consider this my birthday gift to you! 💖 This serves as a part ii to my Kinktober fic “with autumn closing in.” It got ANGSTY. I hope you love it.

on the prompt: “It’s November – the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.” This beautiful line was written by Lucy Maud Montgomery, a wonderful Canadian writer, in her novel Anne of the Island, published in 1915.

MASTERLIST

Mini Prompt Event!

It’s November – the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.

Despite the traffic, the drive into your hometown’s been remarkably quiet. You’ve hitched a ride with a friend, and with Starbucks in your cupholders and weeks worth of laundry piled into her trunk, you ride back in near-silence.

She knows what’s on your mind as she pulls off the exit, the all-too-familiar sign that marks your hometown sending a rush of anxiety straight to your gut.

You’re not looking forward to this weekend as much as you should be. You miss your family- your parents, your dog, your bedroom- but there’s another gaping question mark that fills the rest of the weekend, too harrowing to ignore.

Mirio.

After a very tearful goodbye at the end of the summer, things were good between you. You texted all the time and called him whenever you could. You even wrote letters back and forth in the first month of the semester. Mirio’s were never decked out in stickers or lavish penmanship like yours were, but they teared you up all the same.

But college is difficult. And you’re both starting this year, so it’s been a lot for both of you to adjust to. You and Mirio always kind of sailed through high school without too much extra studying, so the amount of work it takes to do well in college has been a massive wake-up call.

It’s putting a strain on your relationship with him. Slowly, at first.

You were too busy with papers and assignments to call during the week, but he was too busy with practices and games and training to call on the weekends. The letters dwindled in frequency and then ceased altogether. Now you’ll go days without hearing from each other at all.

There’s never been a doubt in your mind that long-distance was going to be difficult. But you’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to feel like this.

Your friend drops you off in the driveway and squeezes your tight shoulder. She promises you that it’s going to work out, one way or the other. Then she pulls away to continue to her own city and you climb up the front steps with two garbage bags of laundry in your hands.

You’re attacked by your ecstatic dog at the door, and your mother doesn’t follow far behind. The house is already fragrant with the spiced aroma of baking pumpkin pies, and your mother cries as she hugs you tightly. So do you.

A few minutes later, with your first load of laundry spinning away, you flop onto the couch. To your delight, there’s a text from Mirio. You’re kind of hoping to see him tonight, but you’re not sure what time he was planning on getting into town. Still, a text from him seems promising.

Home yet? It reads.

You’re trying not to let it show that you’re brimming with happiness.

Just got in, you text breezily, curling your knees to your chest with a little smile tugging at your lips. It feels so good to talk to him again here, knowing you’ve got nothing but time to spend with him this weekend.

You text back and forth a little bit, soft little messages about how good it feels to be home and how glad you are that he got home safe. The last message you type out feels indulgent but so good, and you send it with every expectation of an immediate response.

Wanna come over?

Read 7:12 pm

Dull silence persists from your phone. One hour goes by. Two hours. The temptation to send him another message is overwhelming. You’ve been well past the point of avoiding double texts for as long as you can remember.

But this feels… different. Like you shouldn’t bother him. Like, somehow, that’ll only make the silence worse.

So you don’t. Fair enough.

The next day, you’re up to your elbows helping your family get ready for dinner. Your mom has an unfortunate habit of pulling out the stops, but the meal turns out fantastic. Dealing with your extended family is as draining as always, but you’re texting Mirio every so often under the table and he seems happy enough to respond.

You think about bringing up his sudden disappearance last night, but figure he’d been preoccupied with his family. Tonight, his texts are in good spirits.

It’s not until you’re curled up in bed with a belly full of turkey that you try again.

Wanna do something tomorrow? I have brunch in the morning, but I could meet you after.

Read 10:36 pm

Nothing.

Fool me once, you don’t want to let yourself think. But Mirio’s pretty good at putting his phone down when it’s time for bed, so you tell yourself he’s just gone to sleep. He’s gone to sleep and in the morning you’re going to wake up to a sweet little text from him with fresh plans from the afternoon.

Unfortunately, the trend continues. You catch and hold his attention for a few messages a time every day, but every time you mention meeting up in person, you get radio silence. It’s gotten to the point where you know it’s on purpose, and yet every time you fail to confront him, your embarrassment deepens.

Mirio doesn’t play games with you. It feels wrong, to have him jerking your heart around like this. But you give him the benefit of the doubt all weekend.

Finally, it’s Sunday. Your washed, folded laundry is packed neatly in the hallway. You’re finishing up dinner and your family knows, at this point, to keep quiet about Mirio.

You’ve given up on seeing him entirely.

As your family cleans up, you try one more time. You know you shouldn’t. You have every expectation of being treated the same way you have all weekend- why should this time work out any differently?

But you do it anyway.

Hey… I know you might be busy with family stuff, but we’re both going back tomorrow so tonight’s kinda the last chance I can see you…

To your surprise, just a few minutes later, you get a reply,

Want me to pick you up?

Within half an hour, his familiar little Subaru is waiting for you in the dark. Your heart clenches tightly, watching him parked in the driveway. You haven’t seen him in months.

You’d expected a happier reunion.

Still, there’s a sort of lightness that tugs at your heart as you pick your way down the front steps. You tug open the passenger’s side door- the inside of the car is toasty from the rattling little heater that’s always smelled just a little bit burnt.

Mirio has a sad sort of tired smile on his lips, but you can see the relief in his gaze. You’ve almost forgotten what he looks like in real-time like this.

“Hi,” you gasp, almost shyly. You tug the door shut and he shifts the car into gear. You can’t help the little clench of anticipation you get when he puts a hand on the back of your seat to glance over his shoulder.

When he looks back at you, he looks a little brighter.

“Wanna get some coffee?”

He takes you through the Starbucks drive-thru and buys you both iced coffees. The ice rattles cold and sweet inside the cups as he drives you out of town, taking you up the winding road to the point. Neither of you says a thing. You haven’t planned a thing, but you don’t need to.

As you draw closer to the familiar little lookout, your stomach tightens.

Something feels very wrong about the way he’s treating you. By the time he pulls off the road and rolls along the battered gravel path, you’re almost in tears.

You should’ve seen this coming the first time he left you on read. Mirio’s never left you on read before.

“Well,” you mumble, your heart pounding in your throat. You know you’re going to regret this, but it’s killing you to sit in silence. You reach into the centre console and grab your coffee, shaking it weakly in front of him.

“At least you bought me a coffee before breaking up with me.”

Mirio reacts visibly in the dark next to you.

“What?” He looks over, dark eyes shining with betrayal. His blonde brow is firm and set, but there’s genuine surprise in his expression.

“Break up with you?” His voice is trembling. “W-why would I-“

Now you feel even stupider. The tears come, hot and fast and unrelenting. Your next words come in a pinched sob.

“Why wouldn’t you?” You’ve cried like this in front of him before, but this is the first time it’s ever seemed embarrassing.

“I tried to see you all weekend, all I wanted was to see you.” You’re sniffling wildly, and you knee open the glove box because you know he always keeps tissues there. “I missed you so much and-and you wouldn’t even talk to me.”

He whimpers your name, quiet as a prayer. He’s tearing up, too, gripping the steering wheel tightly with his face screwed up in pain.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I was… I thought…”

He’s pausing like you’re going to interrupt him, but you don’t. He bows his head, continuing.

“I was afraid to see you,” he confesses, “because I thought you wanted to break up with me.”

The relief you expect doesn’t come. Instead, a deeper, sicker pain wraps itself around your heart.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you don’t talk to me anymore,” he ejects. “Not in the same way. I… I know you’re busy, and I know I’m busy, but… things just felt different. Ever since Homecoming, I-I just…”

Homecoming was the one weekend that Mirio had been to visit you since the summer. That was a reunion that felt as good as it was supposed to. You’ll never forget bounding out of your residence hall to find him there, leaning against the edge of his little car like it was a souped-up Harley Davidsen. You’ll never forget the way he laughed when you launched yourself into his arms.

But that was where the bliss had stopped.

Homecoming was a bad weekend for him to visit. You should have seen that coming. You were busy with your brand new friendships, hopping from party to party. And though you were both all smiles when he was climbing into his car again on Sunday night, you’d known he left feeling a little neglected.

“Mirio,” you sob, reaching for him. You pull his eyes to yours with a hand under his jaw- a little unshaven, scratchy- and his cheeks are wet with fresh tears of his own. “I missed you like hell. I love you. I mean that every single time I say it. And I-“

You hate this kind of thing with him. Neither of you takes conflict very well. And though there have always been fights, this is the largest reckoning you’ve ever had.

“I had so many plans for us this weekend,” you admit, and the hurt takes over. Because no matter how you resolve this, that’s time that you can never get back. “And now I have to go back tomorrow and so do you and this is all we’re gonna have.”

“I know,” he sniffles right back. His voice is weak. Trembling. You haven’t seen him like this since his dog died, right after you graduated high school. “God, I-I… I’m so sorry.”

He’s reaching for you now, winding his arms awkwardly over the centre console to pull you close. You have to lean way over but you do, burying your face into the chest of his jacket.

You both sob openly, for nobody but yourselves.

“I don’t want it to be like this,” you plead. “I don’t want to be fighting for things to feel right. I can’t take four more years of this, Mirio, I can’t.”

He’s stroking a palm down the back of your head now, burying his nose into your hair.

“It won’t be,” he promises. “I’m gonna try harder. I’m gonna- I promise.”

“It’s both of us,” you reply. Your voice drops as you start to, slowly, regain control. “It’s me too. I need to try harder, too. I don’t want it to end like this.”

You nose your way to the surface, peering up at him. You both look ridiculous, faces pinched and teary. But none of that matters when you’re leaning up and he’s leaning down and he’s kissing you, all soft and loving in that way that used to make you melt.

It still does.

You let it grow heated, let yourself grab him by the cheeks and pour all of the desperate longing you’ve been doing into this kiss. It becomes very clear to you that you’re not going to be getting out of this car a single woman. And relief spreads warm and gooey through your gut.

“I wanna,” you whisper, pulling back with your eyelashes fluttering. Mirio cups your cheeks and warmly swipes the last of your drying tears away. He leans in and nuzzles the chilled tip of your nose with his.

“You sure?”

You bite your lower lip and shoot him a quiet, sly little nod.

This time, when you climb into the backseat together, no blankets or pillows are waiting for you. But you don’t care. You let him splay you across the narrow back seat, hitching one knee up over the backrest and stretching the other one out alongside him.

It’s a good deal colder this time around. And you can’t wait to get to each other. Your clothes are barely shoved out of the way by the time he’s nudging his stiff tip against your folds. You’re pushing the long hem of his sweatshirt out of the way for him, and he looks down at you with such determined adoration that you wonder why you ever doubted his love in the first place.

He eases into you slow and gentle, just like the first time. Very unlike the second time, harried and rushed under the covers of your rickety dorm bed.

You drag his lips to yours while he bottoms out inside you, wrapping that free leg around his hips and keeping him buried tight.

He fucks you just like that, in deep, tiny little strokes that nudge the tenderest parts of your belly and send pleasure trickling right down your spine each time. He kisses every part of your skin that he can reach, whispering his devotion to you over and over and over again until his voice breaks. Until all he can do is grunt and sigh and shake above you as he pours his climax into you, bringing you to a quiet little peak beneath him.

You stay tangled for a long time, despite the cramps quickly developing in your forcibly angled limbs. He lays between your thighs, listening to your heartbeat as your lazy fingers drift through the sweat-damped strands of his golden hair.

“Hey,” he murmurs warmly, lifting his chin to find your eyes. “I wanna drive you back to school tomorrow, okay?”

“What?” You frown. “Mirio, that’s two hours in the opposite direction for you. Don’t-“

“Please,” he insists, and something in his tone makes you stop. He slides his hands up your sides. “I want to. I didn’t… I should’ve seen you more this weekend. Let me. Please?”

You give a breathy little laugh, laying your head back against the edge of the seat. Your heart throbs with that all-too-familiar warmth.

“My mom’ll be pissed,” you tease, and you feel him grin against your chest.

You’re going to be okay.

#mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #lemillion #mirio togata #mirio #my hero academia #mha fanfic #boku no hero academia #lemillion smut #angst #bnha

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brittledame · 3 years

Text

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐊𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢/𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐄𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟏𝐊

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢’𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭!

Birthdays, a single day marked down on the calendar. It’s the same date, unchanging, yet year after year, Taichi’s birthday still catches you by surprise. Nevertheless, while curled up in bed with his legs completely entangled in yours, came the discussion on how to spend it.

Taichi seemed indifferent about celebrating, soon claiming exhaustion and that had put the topic on ice until the next day. From the conversations in the weeks leading up to it, you gauged that he wasn’t into a party on his actual birthday, which unfortunately placed on a Tuesday this year. You wholeheartedly agreed – a mid-week hangover wasn’t in the cards.

After much back and forth with Taichi arguing he’s fine without a party for his 24th. You both finally come to an agreement of a small gathering with new and old friends and family that weekend.

Taichi, in all the years you’ve known him, can be summed up in two words: easy going. He was happy to have a party so long as it didn’t put either you or him out in anyway. As the date neared, you could tell from snippets of conversation that he was looking forward to meeting up with old high school friends and his parents that he hasn’t seen since January.

What Taichi didn’t agree or know about was that you were planning a surprise on his actual birthday. What he didn’t know won’t hurt. It was probably for the best because in the end, he was scheduled an entire gruelling day of university classes and work.

You bemoaned that it was a poor way to celebrate his day, but he shrugged it off. What else was he to do?

Now with today being the day, he was already up and gone before you could muster a kiss and a ‘happy birthday’. The rest of the day saw to you darting in and out of the shared apartment, followed by a stressing in the kitchen.

It was unexpected receiving a text that they asked him to stay back and being who he is, Taichi reluctantly agree for the paycheck. Guilt swelled inside you at the relief you felt reading that. The extra hour would give you plenty of time to finish arranging everything.

An hour later found you finishing up cooking a miniature feast to make up for the lacklustre day. You ended up ordering in some dishes in that you weren’t brave enough to conquer – the spread was enough to astound a food critique. You hoped that Taichi is hungry after nearly losing a finger by making the sukiyaki that he constantly craved.

You had asked his mother for the recipe, knowing that he’d appreciate it even if it wasn’t as great as hers. She was more than happy to pass it down to you, gushing about how sweet you are for doing it for her son. You weren’t compelled to tell her that you’d walk over a bed of fire for Taichi and everything he’s done for you. This was the least of what you could do for you.

It was as you rinsed off a plate, table set out with the modest layout of food, when the door creaks open.

“Babe, I’m home!” He calls out, keys rattling as he places them in the key dish.

“In the dining room,” you call out in kind.

Dropping the plate in the dish drainer to deal with later, you dry your hands and dart into the adjoining room, beating him by a hair of a second. He blinks at the streamers thrown around the room, following their colourful trails until his eyes widen as they alight on the food-laden table.

“Surprise!” You announce, arms held wide and invitingly. “I know this isn’t much, but I thought-“

Taichi doesn’t let you finish, instead sweeping you up in a strong, all-encompassing hug that quickly became his trademark.

“It’s perfect.” He murmurs into your hair, grip somehow becoming tighter as you run your hands through his hair.

Patting him on the back, you try to delay your own welling emotions by whispering back, “Happy birthday, iron giant.”

Taichi pulls away with a small grin. “I’m not even that tall, but okay.”

“Sure, mister six foot four.” You roll your eyes and grab his hand, tugging him towards the table and seating him. “Please tell me you’re hungry because I think I might cry if I have to throw this all out.”

“Absolutely famished.” Taichi replies, picking up his chopsticks and letting them hover in the air between dishes, as if he couldn’t decide where to start.

“Here, let me serve you up,” you offer, scooping up his bowl and piling it full of food that you think he’ll enjoy the most. His eyes light up at the loaded dish as you pass it off with a caution, “Please remember to chew, I don’t want to take you to the emergency room tonight.”

“I dunno,” he drawls, plopping a bite into his mouth and swallowing it. “Sounds like fun to me. They might even give me a sticker for being a good boy.”

Shaking your head at him, you take a seat and start eating alongside him. The conversation doesn’t waver, instead taking off to him gushing about how good everything tasted and morphs into surprise when you confess that you made some of them.

Even after long and tedious day, it warmed you to see him so full of vigour. Well, at least Taichi’s own special brand of it.

After the dishes are nearly empty and the table is cleared away, Taichi and you set up shop on the lounge. Stretching and drifting away in the post-food coma, the both of you watch the random movie Taichi selected with little interest, instead paying more attention to each other’s quiet comments on the acting.

From all the food you hated to see wasted, you were full enough to contemplate a life living out on the lounge, comfortably perched between his askew legs on the over-stuffed lounge. The poor slice of the cake that you had to rushed to pick up earlier today at abandoned on the coffee table Taichi was brave enough to put his feet up on – neither of you being eager enough to eat again so soon.

You softly knock your elbow into his ribcage. “No feet on the table, not when food is on it, please.”

He exaggerates a long-suffering groan before he bends forward and picks up the cake, settling back into place behind you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that you didn’t trust in the slightest.

“If you smash my face into that cake, Taichi, I swear-“

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling dearest.” He purrs, swiping some of the frosting off with his forefinger.

Knowing Taichi wouldn’t expose his plan, you’re silent as he tilts your head to meet his gaze head-on and smears the frosting on your lips. His breath fans across your skin and warms your rapidly heating cheeks.

“Now it’s time for dessert.”

You couldn’t deny Taichi on a good day, but on his birthday? You were happy to spend a night indulging every request he made.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝!

#taichi x reader #kawanishi taichi x reader #kawanishi taichi #taichi drabble #kawanishi x reader #shiratorizawa #haikyuu!!#haikyu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu!! x reader #haikyuu x y/n #I wrote this in an hour and I wish I'd planned ahead rip #hq #hq x gender neutral reader #haikyuu reader insert

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yyxgin · 3 years

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a lot has happened at work recently!! but who cares bleh. libra season!!! which means bday celebrations!! except i’m at work BOO 👎 and my two assistant managers have officially left (i’m helping them move on wednesday) and they were probably the only two who knew when my bday was apart from my supervisor but he’s gone to a different branch to train to be an assistant manager before coming back so i’m super bummed bc now i have to deal w al the new staff by myself 😭

also one of the ladies in kp read my palms?? and she told me i spend too much money impulsively which isn’t false… but i have to spend money impulsively or if spend none at all (which is good for saving ig) but i’d also be doing nothing other than working and that would make me sad lol. she also told me bc i’m a libra this month i’ll be unlucky with love but lucky with money so 🥺🙏🙏 i was having a relatively bad day that day so she was cheering me up n all of that.

did i tell you when my txt and skz albums came, they also came like a week or two later (again) bc they’d accidentally doubled up my order? it was like heaven with skz bc changbin baby is my ult n he was in some of the pulls for the second album 🥵🥵 the limited edition of no easy confuses me bc it’s not like the last one of theirs i bought and typically groups stick to a style when they design albums like mamamoo are all in these cute magnetic flip box thingies and nct’s are all little books type things as well as txt’s but skz switched it up and there’s a fair bit of loose stuff? but it’s okay bc i have two posters n all of the mini flip card things for the members and some bangchan (i’m gifted in pulling chan).

im also hopefully getting a car?? the barman hasn’t gone to prison yet bc the court keep moving his sentencing date(s?) so when i discussed this w my mum she said they’ll probably throw it out and relief filled me!! but ik i shouldn’t be so hopeful but at the same time it’s like why would you mess someone around so much? anyway i’ll move on, i wanted to drop him home in my car bc he deserves a lift everyday what a sweetheart❣️ my co-worker facetimed me today as it was my day off and i said hi to everyone it was so heartwarming to see everyone missing me but also not bc my manager overworks me and he knows that after this weekend 💉🩸

im jumping about with my points and things i want to say but i’m horrible at internet friends so this is okay for me as recently i’ve just not had energy for any friends which is awful of me but i’m still trying to find the balance between work and social. also everyone’s gone to uni and i’m just chilling. i like my life.

i want to redecorate my room. i don’t like the vibe other than when people compliment my kpop wall bc it’s a bunch of my art and then other peoples art and i thoroughly enjoy decorating w pictures and stickers and stuff but it’s literally just a door and it’s depresses me that my happiness is reduced to the back of a singular door now. i want to redo the vibe in my room and make it more me. i’ve never felt comfortable until recently and even now i’m going back to feeling uncomfy now that i know i want it a certain way and to give a certain vibe. idk, maybe it’s bc i watched sex education and seeing lily’s room in the most recent season (i won’t say much more in case you are watching/haven’t seen it yet) really made me realise i want to love myself and love the space i create for myself more. do you enjoy your space you’ve created for yourself? i always feel like peoples rooms say a lot about them as a person but how they see their room in their own eyes always says more.

i want to ask loads of questions and am awful at asking them so please just tell me everything i missed or should be updated on!! ily, always

~ 🌻

LIBRA SEASON !!! omg did i ask you when's your bday ?? i hope i didn't miss it. >:( happy birthday !!!! you deserve so much love. also, i'm sorry about your managers leaving. dealing with new staff is hella stressful and i hope you don't have to have too much responsibility and nerves <3

ooh palm readings are hella interesting. i've never had one but i think i'd like to try. spending money impulsively isn't a bad thing, if it's not an irresponsible spending. and if it is,, well who cares. yolo. i feel you on that tho, bc even tho i am really stingy w money, sometimes i just buy stuff i don't need and act on impulse.

OMG THAT IS A DREAM ?? getting free albums ?? (at least i hope they were free lmao). i like it when groups stick to one type of packaging although i must say i dont like the book thingies nct uses bc there is no magnetic part so it falls apart on my shelf and i hate that. i acutally like the sleeve packaging txt's albums have ?? everyone seems to bitch abt it on tiktok but i find it the most conveniet. also i'm glad changbin came home to you <3

YAAAY TO THE CAR !! AND ALSO TO YOUR COWORKER. i am praying he won't have to go, then, i am really hopeful. he is a sweet soul and doesn't deserve that. pleeease don't put up with your boss overworking you. take care of yourself :(

YOURE NOT HORRIBLE AT INTERNET FRIENDS we are besties. okay ??? and its totally okay to have no energy for friends as well, bc as you can see, i am struggling as well recently. it took me so long to reply to this ask and i feel so bad but it is what it is :// social battery has been low and i am busy with studying and work and trying to put my shit together. i am rooting for you !! <3

go for the decorating !! i actually haven't watched sex education and am not planning on watching so i dont really understand what you mean, but i hope you get to create a space for yourself when you feel free and comfortable. i share a room with my brother so its kind of difficult to decorate it how i want it, but i honestly like sharing a room tbh. he's not here half the time anyway so it's good to see him at least when we go to sleep lmao. but i have a bunch of stuff in my corner that are kpop and my side is full of plants, so i feel good surrounded by them hihi. i like it here.

i don't have many updates. i am actually living a very boring life, so i have nothing to share. preparing for graduation exams has been making me anxious and also depressed with everything that's been going on lately, but it's okay. i'll pull myself together <3 i love you a lot, take care !! i missed you

#our convos are always so long i love it #missed you sm #sorry for taking ages to reply #💌ask #🌻 anon

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mellowrat21 · 3 years

Text

Rough Changes.

AU where the bullying Sal recieves from Travis, his school crush, gets so hard to him, it almost kills him, so he decides to close some cycles and get the hell out of the situation. Cw: mention of self harm, bullying, graphic violence, strong vocabulary, polyamorous relationships, mild (really really mild) implied sex scene(?, heavily loaded with angst. Fandom: Sally Face Words: 4800 Hope you enjoy it!

The first time Sally went out around Nockfell he used to wear a beanie to hide his bright, long, electric blue hair and wore discrete clothes, but as the time went by and he started hanging out with Larry, Ash and Todd, his confidence slowly started going higher and higher until he started going to school with his signature hairstyle, some hairpins and his favorite clothes, he was a cis guy, and he was bisexual, but who cared, everyone who saw him thought he was a girl and probably a lesbian since he hung out with Ashley so much. And he didn’t give a flying fuck about it, he wouldn’t make an effort to change his voice to make it sound “more feminine” or go to the women’s restroom because he didn’t feel the need to, he was a guy, period. Some people didn’t seem to agree and thought he was a trans guy or something, which was terribly stupid and Sal and his friends would always mock the people that harassed him on the streets “you will never be a real woman, you tranny!” or “no matter how many chemicals are in your body, you will always be a girl!”, people never knew if he was a girl or a boy, and that amused him a lot. But then, when they got to the middle of 8th grade, a new kid was introduced to his class, he was a tall, brown boy with shiny blonde hair, he had what appeared to be a bruise on his left eye but Sal thought it was rude to stare, so he lowered his head, wondering if it was a bruise or a birthmark. The kid got to sit beside him, they didn’t talk at all, if not just the common “hi” from when a new kid gets introduced to the class and you’re the one sitting next to them. Dear diary: Today in class there was a new kid, he is cute, I wanna be his friend and maybe share drawings or stickers or even Pokémon cards, what if he collects them too? I could find the ones I don’t have and he could benefit from mine too. He’s my age, his name is Travis. I think he’s religious, so not cool, religion is boring, I always sleep in religion class. I’m gonna ask him if he wants to sit with me at lunch, he might be lonely since he’s a new boy at school, I wanna be his first friend, I could even introduce him to the group!

Alright, gotta sleep, Sal out.

The alarm clock was buzzing, letting Sal know it was time to get out of bed and ready for a heavy Tuesday of school, he hated Tuesdays, no band club, no art classes, nothing, just geometry, math and a lot of history, Spanish and English, oh, and religion too. He got up and went to take a quick shower, it was cold and he didn’t really like turning the heater on, it was too noisy for being 6:40 in the morning the time he showered for school. When he got out of the shower, he put on his underwear and with a towel around his hair he sat on the sink to take care of his reddish scars, that day they were way more tender than usual, it stung and even hurt in some places the q-tip touched with the lotion. He sighed, getting back down from the sink and finding a meowing Gizmo on his bed, who stretched as soon as he saw his owner, asking him to pet him and rub his belly. “Aw hi little guy! Did you get some good sleep?” Sally asked in a tiny voice, thoroughly shaking Gizmo’s big belly, he earned a purry meow from him, who got up and walked out of the room to get food. Sal let out a breathy giggle and started going through his closet, thinking what he should wear; he found a white skirt he thought was really cute, tried it on but found out it was way too short and it showed the scars on his thighs, he didn’t want any more visits to the school counselor for self-harm even though his scars were a combination of cuts made by him and scratches made by Gizmo. He decided to stop thinking so much and just grabbed a pair or ripped black skinny jeans with patches and chains Larry had gifted him for his 15th birthday and a pastel blue gloomy bear t-shirt to go with it, by the time he tied his usual blue converse he thought of grabbing a hoodie, so he grabbed a red zip-up hoodie and threw it on before he went to get some breakfast, some peach slices and Greek yogurt did the job and after a little bit of him styling his hair with his dryer and iron, he went to brush his teeth, he grabbed his bag after putting his prosthetic on and headed out. On the way he found Larry, with whom he went to the bus stop while chatting a little bit. “hey Lar, did you see the new kid?” Sal asked, eager to hear the answer, he was so interested in him, he was excited to know him. “uh yeah, that Travis boy? He’s chill, why? Larry said, munching on a chocolate chip cookie that might be his breakfast, he had his hair tied back in a messy bun which showed he didn’t shower, and those bruise-like bags under his eyes made clear he didn’t sleep either. “huh? What do you mean chill, did you talk to him?” Sal’s eyelids perked up, surprised by his friend talking about his interesting future new friend. “oh hell no, he’s religious, I would never get near a religious guy, they’re scary with all their crazy ‘god loves you’ shit” Larry shivered jokingly, earning an annoyed sigh from Sal, who playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “he can’t be that bad bro, he’s 14, he probably just uses the cross necklace because his dad makes him.” Sal tried to shrug it off, then the bus came and they got on. While looking for a seat, Sal spotted a blonde head, and when he got closer, low and behold, it was Travis. He was talking to another blue haired kid that attended their school, but they suddenly locked eye contact and Sal smiled to him, only to remember he couldn’t see it, so he shakingly waved until Larry softly pushed him to sit behind Travis and the other boy that was there. “come on dude, you’re gonna fall if you stay there!” Larry tugged on his hoodie, which made him sigh and sit next to his friend, his face red as a cherry and the blush spreading to his ears. That was so embarrassing… “woah woah dude are you okay? Do you have like a fever or something? Your face is hot as fuck and your so re- AH DUDE NOT COOL!!” Larry said worried, getting elbowed on the stomach by his flustered friend who was literally shaking on his seat. “i-I am- I’m okay it’s j-ju-just I-… fuuuuck” Sal stammered out, not being able to form a sentence from how hard he was shaking, then he hear a gasp from the

seat in front of him. “what? Are you- are you a boy?” a flustered, weirded out Travis was looking at him, he looked disgusted and scared. “uh m-me? I- I… yes, I’m a boy…” Sal stuttered again, scared, the first words they exchanged and they were not at all the ones he expected. “what the- ugh, boys don’t wear skirts, you shouldn’t wear that kind of attires, it’s ungodly.” The disgust in Travis’ face was growing with every word and Sal was literally at the verge of tears from how scared he was, even though he had picked a gender neutral looking outfit he got a bad comment, from the boy he wanted to be friends with. Sal tried to talk but the words were stuck in his mouth, when a sudden movement startled him to the point he yelped. “yo, clothes don’t have gender. Go fuck with someone else smartass.” Larry had jerked up from his sit, completely angered and with a threatening stand. Travis got scared himself and he just turned around mumbling something under his breath. Sal was silently crying, little sobs slipped from under the mask his day didn’t start well at all and he had heard what the boy in front of him had mumbled.

He called him a faggot.

His day went on horribly, boring classes, all of them where he sat next to the boy who he had a little crush on, it was all wrong, all he wanted to do was go home and curl up in a ball to cry, and cry and cry. Before lunch started, he got up rather quickly, Travis used the opportunity to trip him and he fell over, he scratched both his knees and it wanted to make him cry again, and it did, he just ran to the restrooms and locked himself in a stall, hugging his legs and silently crying again, what a shit day, he just wanted it to end already. The urge was suddenly unbearable, he needed to get himself off of that situation, he reached to his hoodie pockets and pulled out a little envelope that contained a stainless steel blade he hadn’t used in a while. He then pulled his sleeves up and angrily started making multiple deep cuts in every dimension, that made him sob and gasp, and when he was done, he was just a mess of blood and tears, he reached for the toilet paper and luckily for him, there was, so he quickly put it on the wounds and made some pressure until the blood was almost gone, he pulled the sleeves back down and sighed, he wasn’t relieved, but he wasn’t around Travis so he was good for a while. Then he remembered his next class was religion, fuck no, he was going to the principle to ask him to call his dad, he needed to go home, he couldn’t resist any more time with Travis let alone it being in religion class, fucking religion class, that was the last thing he wanted to happen to him. After he decided he was calling his dad to go home, he got off the toilet and opened up the stall door slowly as to not find any “unwanted guests”. Once he double-checked and triple-checked he was able to get out of there an run to the principal’s office, only to blink and open his eyes back up at a hospital room, surrounded by Larry, Ashley, Todd, Todd’s boyfriend (he didn’t remember his name) and his dad, all looking both worried and relieved. “oh my god, he’s awake!” Ashley almost yelled, rushing to hold his friends hand. “huh…? Wha- what am I doing here?” Sal asked, looking around, noticing his arms were uncovered, showing his fresh cuts and the catheter where the liquids where flowing. “uh, you passed out and Larry found you completely splattered on the ground, your hoodie was soaked in blood so he told us and we rushed you to the hospital. It seemed like you lost a lot of blood, Sally, what’s wrong?” Todd talked, looking concerned. “Salvatore, please tell me you’re not going to start cutting yourself again, I already signed a document to refuse your admission to the mental hospital, I know you don’t wanna go back there and I don’t want you to go either, that place only drugs you and prevents you from everything…” Henry spoke, worry and sadness gushing out of his mouth while he talked. Tears started falling down Sal’s eyes, he was mortified, and now he was in the fucking hospital, he was sure this was a nightmare, he needed to wake up, he needed to fucking- “SAL, WAKE UP!!” Larry said, worried and scared, it had been a day since Sal got out of the hospital and he stopped going to school for a while, Larry was taking care of him every day after school to make sure he was eating and cleaning himself, he was worried his best friend would kill himself if he spent too many time alone and he wasn’t risking losing another loved one. Never again. Sal jerked awake, all startled by his friend’s yelling. “what do you want Larry…” annoyed by his sudden awakening, Sal rolls over on the bed and starts falling back asleep. “I brought you some pancakes and chocolate milk… I know you like them…” Larry sighed out, he was sad to see his best friend like that, he hated it, he fucking hated whatever was going on with him to make him that depressed. Sal sat up and started eating bit by bit, the bandages on his arms were getting loose and a bit gooey, so after Sal finished eating, Larry carried him piggyback to the bathroom to clean him up.

That was only the beginning of the worst four years of his life, days of never ending bullying, depressive episodes, fights, detentions, panic attacks and breakdowns.

Last break of their last year of school was nearing in, that was the last day of school before break and they’d be back for a month and a half more of school and everything would be over. Sal was excited because he was going on a field trip with the squad, not knowing those plans were going to be completely crushed by goody two-shoes blonde fuck Travis, who had woke up that last day of school and chose complete violence. That day was living hell for Sal, he never stopped mocking him and calling him names, but Sal just pretended to ignore him, until… “Hey freak, you faceless faggot motherfucker, did your mommy do your hair for you? It looks shitty! Oh wait, no she didn’t. why, you ask? OH YEAH, BECAUSE SHE’S DEAD, SHE MUST BE CRINGING AND CRYING IN HER GRAVE BECAUSE SHE’S ASHAMED OF YOU, ABOMINATION, UNGODLY MONSTER” Travis was following him around, tugging at his hair and pushing his head around, until Sal snapped. He didn’t say anything, just a hit, square in the nose, a loud crack and a scream followed, Sal just kept hitting and hitting until Larry had to physically drag him away, he was frozen, scared, absolutely terrified of himself, of what he did. Luckily it was finally break time and he got to dip out of there, he locked himself at home and ravaged the tree on his backyard, then when he was tired of it, he decided to go back inside and look at himself in the mirror, he then found himself staring down to a pair of scissors on his nightstand. His breath became shaky and anxious, he didn’t want to do it, he made him do it, it was all his fault, all his fault, he fucking did it. “LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID, TRAVIS FUCKING PHELPS!” he cried out, yelling and shaking after he looked at himself back in the mirror, his pretty blue long locks were completely gone, leaving him with a mess of hair, he didn’t want it anymore, he didn’t want to look like a girl, he didn’t want to be bullied anymore, he didn’t deserve it. “I am a man, I was born a man, I will die a man, and if I am a man I will fucking behave like one. Did you fucking hear me, Phelps!? IM GONNA BE WHAT YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE, A FUCKING GUY, NOT THE UNGODLY FAGGOT YOU ALWAYS SAW ON ME!! ARE YOU HAPPY? ARE YOU GLAD?! FUCK YOU! YOU MADE ME LIKE THIS! ME! THE ONE WHO ALWAYS THOUGHT FONDLY OF YOU, THE ONE THAT THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST SCARED OF ME! The one who… the one… the one who fucking liked you…” Sally couldn’t speak anymore, he was shaking, sobbing and crying out loud on the bathroom floor, just to stare back up and find Larry and Ashley looking down at him, both crying, completely worried and scared of what they were looking at. Larry picked him up as he drifted away, passing out from all the crying. They let him sleep, he was sleeping soundly as the other two were slowly falling asleep by his sides. When he woke up he found them sleeping there, he woke them up too since he had an enormous headache and needed some assistance. “Lar… b-bring me some medicine please my head hurts like hell…” He went to grab onto his locks and all he found was a nest of tangled up short hair, he found himself scared but then remembered what happened before he went out and tears started gushing out of his eyes. “fuck, I really did it, I cut my fucking hair.” Sal unbelievably laughed, a melancholic laugh. Larry got up and Ash stayed there, hugging him softly. “don’t worry, blue, I’ll take you to a salon after you take your medicine and we’ll get that mess fixed, alright?” Ash held his hand, reassuringly squishing it softly. Sal nodded then looked up when he saw Larry pop out of the doorframe holding a pill and a glass of water which he gave him to drink. “So dude… after you get the haircut… do you wanna go get some food and maybe get high at the abandoned house down the hill? I know Ash is out of this because she has to babysit her brother but we can go if you want.” Larry asks rather shyly, trying not to give Sal any strong emotions. “I’ll take the food offer, but no weed for me today, this headache will get fucking worse if I even get near the stuff” Larry nodded, joining the hug

after Sal had swallowed the pill, closing his eyes at the pleasuring hug. After the pill kicked in and Sal was no longer in pain, the three young adults went to the hair salon to get Sal a haircut, then the other two sat back reading awfully boring magazines. Mid haircut, Sal asked the stylist to dye his hair black, he wanted to change himself completely, never look back at himself how he used to be. They finished washing his hair and he went to show his friends who looked completely dumbfounded by the new look, so dumbfounded Sal started to worry. “guys? What is it? Do-does it look bad? Do I change it or-“ he was cut off by a wave of NO’s from both of them, they were both in love with what they saw before them, they rushed to hug him and cradle him, Larry cried, because he loved him, he loved every single piece of his existence and now he looked so different, not happier, but completely different, he was proud of him, of his baby, not blue anymore.

The road trip never happened, but they stayed together at Sal’s house the whole break since Henry was away for a business trip that meant a lot of money coming to them afterwards. The three spent the break like a little family, they tried doing all sorts of things, like cooking, hiking, stargazing, burning all Sal’s “feminine” stuff as a symbolic sacrifice (even if Ashley wanted to keep the makeup and some stockings he had) and well, other kind of stuff between the three of them. The day they had go back to school went… not so badly. The squad had agreed not to talk to Sal a lot at school so people thought he was just absent or something, and it worked out until some person started to suspect. “hey, you, uh… Salvatore?” Travis approached the guy shyly, tapping his shoulder. “yeah?” Sal tried to lower his voice to confuse the oblivious blonde even more. “well I wanted to talk to you about something, in private, so… do you mind going with me to the school’s auditorium? I promise it’ll not take long.” Travis stepped a little further from him as to not scare him. “uh yeah sure, why not.” He nodded and followed behind, not too closely, while he texted his partners about it, he was shaking, scared and stressed about what might happen there. Porcelain doll: school auditorium, quick, heading there with Travis, apparently he wants to talk about something.

Ashey<3: oooo someone is getting confessed to!!!

Lar-Bear: be there in 3 minutes, dragging Ash with me if something happens.

Porcelain doll: nice, thanks babe.

Ashey<3: no worries boo ~

Lar-Bear: we love you, Torey.

Sal sighed in relief knowing his boyfriend and girlfriend were going to be around if something bad happened, so he ruffled his hair and jogged a bit, trying to keep up the pace. When they got there, Travis pushed the big doors to the entrance, the dim lighted room was scary enough with the theatre people in it, let alone it being completely empty, except for Ash and Larry who were hiding in the console room.

Travis cleared his throat, he was… nervous? Maybe Sal was imagining it, there’s no way that motherfucker was nervous.

“so… what did you wanna talk about?” Sal spit out rather venomously, stressed and annoyed by Travis’ presence.

“I promise it wouldn’t take long so it won’t. Salvatore Fisher, Sally Face, I wanted to tell you I’m absolutely sorry for what I did to you, all those years of suffering because of my fear of… of… uh… of…” Travis was struggling to take it out, he was disgusted by his own words though he knew he had to say it somehow. “of liking another man, of liking you, Sal… I was taking it all out on you and you didn’t deserve it, I’m working on myself, on becoming a better person for you, because I know how much damage I caused you on the outside, but on the inside, I know I left you a wound that is rotting and I will never know how deep it is.”

“Bro. You waited four years. Four fucking whole years to apologize for something you did to me every day nonstop, the words, the names, the hits, the hair pulling, all of that, and now you’re just telling me that you’re sorry? What do you expect? That I fall on your arms, begging you to hold me and forgiving you right away? Fuck no. Totally not. I will never forget what you did to me, and you know what? Fuck you. You’re the fucking faggot, you’re the one that deserves to get your shit rocked every single day of the rest of your fucking existence. You’re the sissy, little blondie piss baby, what’re you gonna do, huh? Cry out to daddy for him to save you? Only sissies cry, Travis, man the fuck up and piss your pants anywhere else but near me.” Sal gushed every word that came out of his mouth so naturally it was like he had rehearsed that speech a thousand times. He pushed him, making him trip over his feet and fall to the ground before he left, fuming, at the verge of tears, and before he closed the doors of the auditorium he yelled “FUCK YOU TRAVIS PHELPS, EVEN IF I STILL LOVED YOU, I WOULD NEVER TOUCH YOUR FILTHY FLESH IN MY MISERABLE LIFE, Y’KNOW!?” and with that said, he slammed the door behind him, actually hearing rushed footsteps from the other side. Todd and Larry were waiting for him outside but Sal ignored them, he was too busy wiping the tears off of his face as his legs gave in and let him sit on the floor, resting his back against a stack of lockers nearby. Travis barged out of the auditorium, tears desperately streaming down his face, yelling out for Sal. “SAL PLEASE FORGIVE ME, I LOVE YOU WITH MY LIFE AND IM SORRY I HURT YOU SO MUCH PLEASE JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER!!” Travis was full on begging, he needed him so bad but Todd and Larry stopped him, Larry had hit him square in the face while on the floor Todd kicked him on the side, completely angered to see how poor Sally was crying too, with Ashley by his side hugging him and comforting him, they would never let Travis get near Sal, ever again. Since the principal actually knew Sal and Travis situation, he didn’t end up expelling anyone and didn’t give them detention, Travis, Todd and Larry were given a warning and Ash was congratulated because of how good of a job she did comforting Sally while he was having his panic attack. Finally they got to go home and do their homework and onto the next day.

Finally, the school year, graduation and prom had been completely over, and Ash, Sal and Larry were moving out of Nockfell to live together in the city since Larry had gotten a job and Sal was planning to start university with Ash, they were both planning on enrolling in art school even though Sal wasn’t too excited about it since he wasn’t as good at art as Larry and Ashley were, but they both always reminded him that he doesn’t need to be good, he needs to be passionate. That way he would finally get better.

The news of the moving got to Travis, so, as a goodbye present, he left a letter and some candy for Sal in his letterbox, promising him and himself that they would never cross each other ever again. Sal thought it was a cute gesture, maybe in another life they would’ve been together, but in this one, they just peacefully drifted away after all the suffering they felt throughout the years. He went in to smoke some weed, he took the letter with him and read it out loud, he cried a little while, and after that he just burned the letter and went back into the empty house. Ash greeted him with a soft kiss on the lips and smiled. “The moving crew called, they’ll be here in ten minutes. Lar is upstairs saying his last goodbyes to the house.” Ash kissed his forehead and let him go with a playful spank on his butt, making both of them giggle. When Sal went up he found Larry crying, he softly approached him and sat beside him, hugging him tightly.

“hi doll, sorry you get to see me like this, I got nostalgic and I was thinking of how glad my mom would be to know that I found a job, that I have a beautiful loving relationship and that I’m moving out with them, with the beautiful people I love.” Larry sobbed onto Sally’s chest and he howled as soon as the words left Larry’s mouth.

“I’m sure little old Lisa is really fucking proud of you, of me and of Ashey, like, we’re both successful young adults and we’re taking off, we’re living our lives just like Lisa, my dad and Ashley’s wanted, so never doubt it, they’re all pretty proud of you, bear.” Sally reassured him with a big smile, Larry kissed him softly then pulled out with a huge smile.

“good god Torey, I love you so fucking much.” They ended up cuddling on the beanbag they didn’t pack, it was big enough to fit three people there, so they were comfortable, kissing and cuddling there. They started getting heated up and kissing more aggressively. Rough kissing and hickeys, until Ashley interrupted them.

“I knew I was hearing my little porcelain doll moaning, why am I not invited again?” They all laughed and pulled her onto the beanbag, but then again there was another interruption, the doorbell rang, the moving crew was there, they started loading the stuff to the moving truck and the other stuff inside Larry’s truck, then took off, they were leaving, finally leaving that damn town, the memories, the suffering, off to a new life, a better life where they had love to give and receive, wealth and success, so they weren’t sad. Obviously they were nostalgic, but never sad.

They finally got to the new house, it was big and pretty, the furniture looked perfect and the bedroom was cozy and welcoming. They were so tired that day, they just slept through the whole night and the next half of the day.

There their life started, their new life, where the worries were different and the old problems were nowhere to be seen, and they were happy, they were completely free. Free, loved and happy, just how they deserved.

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