#well. not really a breakup but rather a realization that we meant completely different things for each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cafedanslanuit · 3 years

Text

♡ — pairing: kazutora x reader

♡ — summary: after a long day at work, you want nothing but to spend a calm night with your boyfriend. however, you have no idea this is the night were all his demons finally get the best of him.

♡ — tags/warnings: female reader, angst, breakups, hurt feelings everywhere, mention on mental illnesses and nightmares, based on ben platt’s song ‘carefully’, mention of tora’s job in one of the future timelines.

♡ — a/n: i enjoyed writing kazutora so. damn. much. also, i’m quite proud of this one and the small details i added~ thank you @ofoceansandtombstones for being my lovely beta <3

♡ — masterlist

And all this time you've had a gentle way of holding me

So could you please release me that way too?

— “carefully” by Ben Platt

“It’s open, come in!”

The first thing Kazutora sees when he opens the door of your apartment is you, kneeling on the kitchen floor and picking up pieces of a broken baking dish. Red sauce has splattered everywhere and his mind betrays him for a second, imagining an accident far worse than what has truly happened. He blinks twice and starts to notice the small details that finally slow down the fast beating of his heart. There are pieces of chicken breasts next to the open oven door and what he thinks are sliced carrots next to your right knee.

You hiss when you pick up a piece of the shattered glass, the sharp end pinching your finger. Kazutora comes back to his senses, widening his eyes as he realizes he’s just been standing there.

“Hey, let me. You’ll cut yourself,” he warns, walking up to you. Grabbing both your hands, he eases you into your feet and then guides you to the living room. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises as he goes back to the kitchen and starts cleaning up the mess.

You let yourself fall on the sofa with a loud thud and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I just had the most awful day,” you whine, taking off your apron and leaving it on the arm of the sofa. “Work was hell, I got scolded by something that I didn’t do— like always, only this time my boss was all like: ‘You gotta be more careful, we wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable employee’. Like he was going to fire me over someone else’s mistake?!”

Your voice is getting louder by the minute and you take advantage of the fact Kazutora is in another room to keep the volume. You have been waiting the entire day to see him and vent about what a trainwreck you day had been. Just as always, he listens intently, the only noise coming from the kitchen being a soft scraping sound as he picks up everything and throws it to the trash.

“Then, I went to the store and of course they had run out of basil. Tell me, how does a store that big run out of basil?” you ask. There’s no answer from the kitchen so you continue. “I mean, yeah, I could have gone to another store but my feet were killing me. I’m just not meant to work in heels the entire day,” you sigh tiredly, swinging your feet.

You reposition yourself, now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Putting your right hand on your left shoulder, you stretch your neck, feeling your sore muscles releasing a bit of tension with a small ‘pop’.

“I ended up preparing something entirely different than I had planned for dinner. I tried to let it go but just as I was going to put it in the oven, it slipped my hands and—”

“I think we should break up.”

Words die in your lips the moment you listen to your boyfriend speak. The silence becomes loud and abrasive as you struggle to understand what was happening. Why was Kazutora breaking up with you with such a small voice? What had triggered him to come to that conclusion? Why had he decided to bring it up now? You turn your head to the kitchen door and watch him slowly make his way towards you, doubtful steps as he takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“What?” you ask, your voice hoarse. His lips form a tight line and you see him swallowing nervously.

“I’m not doing okay— haven’t been for a while. I— it’s been two years since I left prison and I still haven’t— I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” he explains, looking down at his hands.

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend where he’s coming from. Turning your body towards him, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s okay not to know,” you assure him in a soft voice. “Just… take it slow. One day at a time and then I’m sure you’ll—”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Kazutora confesses and you notice his voice wavering a little. “I— I keep having nightmares about— about that day and— and also about the motorcycle shop. Those two mix up and…” he takes one of his hands to the side of his head, his fingers grazing his temple. “And I’m hitting Baji in the head. And there’s so much blood— so, so much blood and—”

Leaning forward, you take his hands. They’re shaking and extremely cold and you rub your thumb over his knuckles, trying your best to soothe him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, Tora, you’re—”

Kazutora pulls his hands away hastily, leaving a tingling sensation on your palms.

“I can’t!” he says as he shakes his head. You spend a moment looking at your empty hands, never before having felt your boyfriend’s rejection. “I feel like I’m drowning and— You know what? I think relationships just aren’t for me,” he shrugs, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures. “That’s why I never cared for dating, never got myself involved in that kind of shit, not until—”

He finally looks at you and, fuck, you wish he didn’t. You’re not sure if you have the strength to deal with such hurtful discourse. You lick your lips and take yet another deep breath, deciding to ignore his hurtful remark.

“I’m… so sorry you’re feeling this way,” you say, slowing down your words, trying your best not to show how hurt you were. This isn’t him, you tell yourself. So no need for that tightness in your throat. “But you have to understand it’s not because of me. It’s because of everything that you’ve gone through and how hard it’s to deal with them. I don’t blame you, it is hard. But this… us,” you gesture to the both of you. “This is a good thing. Despite all the pain and hurt we’ve both been through, we—”

“Please, stop,” he says, raising his hand and pressing his eyelids together. “I can’t be with you anymore. That’s it, that’s all—”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” you counter. You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. Kazutora’s eyes shoot open and you notice his pupils shaking in fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I love you,” he breathes out, and for a moment you see the boy you fell in love with in his amber eyes that are quickly filling with tears. “I do love you but it’s killing me. I feel like I’m dying,” he chokes out. He looks away from you once more and starts tugging at his fingers. “I’m rotting inside and I don’t know what to do to make it better. I just want it to stop. I want it to stop and— I don’t want you around when I’m like this. I want to figure out what the hell is happening and—”

“But if you love me and I love you then why—”

“I’m not happy with you!”

Kazutora widens his eyes, scared by his loud outburst. He parts his lips, silently muttering nonsense as he tries to come up with words that can make it better. You lower your head and he wants to punch himself over it. He doesn’t want to make you cry, not after everything you’ve done for him. Is he really going to be the person that hurt the one that made a home for him in her embrace? Is he going to hurt the only person that was brave enough to pick up the pieces of his shattered soul?

“I’m…” he babbles, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

You snort. “No, you really did mean it, Tora.”

He can sense the hurt and sadness in your voice, even if now you’re the one that won’t look at him. He watches helplessly as you stand up and walk towards the living room window in complete silence. The apron you took off is still on the couch and the vast memories of all the times he embraced you while you were wearing it quickly fill his mind.

He wishes there was a way he could keep you. But no matter how much he wants to, he knows there really is no other way. He’s thought about this countless times. He has gone to work without getting proper sleep, stared at his blank tv screen for hours on end, trying to come up with a plan where he could keep you. Was staying with the person he loved the most too much to ask?

No matter in how many shades of light or with how much care he handled the memory of you, the only way he could spare you the greatest amount of pain was to leave you— even if he knew he’d end up shattering your heart as well.

Kazutora notices the way your fingers tightly close around the edge of the window, your knuckles turning white. He had come to terms that he’d lose you today, yet he never expected for it to be this way. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. If hating him would mend your wounds faster, then he’d take it. Anything that would make the heartache he was causing you a little bit lighter. He knew you were the last person on Earth that deserved to go to bed carrying that much pain in her soul.

Looking out the window, you focus on a small girl walking her dog on the street. It’s a brown labrador and by the size of it, it’s barely a puppy. Rather than walk, it jumps on its four legs, his little head looking back at the girl every chance he has as he happily wags his tail. The pet shop Kazutora and Chifuyu work at immediately comes to mind. Would it be like this from now on? Small things eliciting memories of your days together without your consent and leaving a sour taste in your mouth?

You will need to find a new commute, you think, as you had been stopping by the pet shop on your way home for the past year. Is there another bus that you could take? As you try to remember the lines and their respective routes, you’re engulfed by the memory of the first time Kazutora dozed off with his head resting on your shoulder as you rode the bus together. You close your eyes and you can clearly see his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips as he slept, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours. His breathing is slow and his hands are cold and you wish you could go back, even for a minute and place a kiss on top of his head, since you wouldn’t be able to do so from now on.

Where exactly had you failed? You had just been complaining about your day when he dropped the bomb. Did you complain too much? Did you talk too much? Or was it you the one that was too much? You tried your best and supported him as much as you could but as it turns out, it hadn’t been enough. Good intentions were nothing but useless as you were now saying goodbye to the man you had loved the most.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Kazutora’s cold knuckles against your cheek, wiping your tears. You gasp, startled by his touch and take a couple steps back until your back hits the wall. It takes a few seconds for him to bring his hand now, unsure on what to do next.

He looks so scared and small— it fills your heart with frustration. Your whole body is screaming to take a step forward and comfort him, cradle him in your arms like so many times before, assure him he’s safe with you and that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. That, if you can still go home to each other at the end of a bad day, you can take anything life throws at you.

But that’s the thing. You’re not each other’s home anymore. You don’t get to bury your face in his neck and hum happily when his perfume reaches your nose. You don’t get to have him take a nap on your lap as you watch a series or feel his lips ghost against yours seconds before colliding in a kiss.

You hate it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his feet. “Please, don’t cry.”

“You know what, Kazutora?” you say, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You taste venom in your words, yet that doesn’t stop you. “If you’re not happy with me, then what are you doing here?”

He flinches at your words. Biting his inner cheek, he nods, still incapable of holding your gaze.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “I’ll go. I really am sorry.”

Kazutora turns on his heel, walking towards the door. Maybe it’s the way you know he’s not coming back this time that makes your desperation afloat. You don’t want him to go and you also know you can’t make him stay. And even if somehow you could find a way to keep him by your side, it would be worthless.

He’s just not happy with you.

“Are you happy somewhere else, though?” you ask, your words leaving your mouth before your head has time to process them. He stumbles on his feet and stops. “Because if you just can’t manage to be happy, then it’s not on me.”

Kazutora doesn’t have to turn for you to know he’s second guessing himself. The next seconds feel like years as he just stands there, mid-way to the front door, thoughts so messy and loud you can almost hear them.

“That doesn’t matter,” he finally says with his back to you. He closes his fists and you see his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “This way you don’t have to deal with... with the mess I am and—”

“Oh, please, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating an ex-convict.”

The weight of your words fall onto you the moment they leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse. It takes no time for you to walk towards Kazutora, standing between him and the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tora, I didn’t— you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears flowing free down your cheeks. Your wave your shaky hands, desperate to make your point across. “I just wanted to say I knew things would be difficult but I loved you— I love you and I—”

Kazutora shakes his head, a gentle yet sad smile on his face as he takes your hands in his. He holds them in front of his chest, squeezing them gently as they don’t stop trembling.

“Stop, it’s okay,” he assures you. “That’s what I am.”

“It’s not,” you protest. “I mean— yeah, but you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that. You’re caring, you’re noble— you’re so tender with the animals at your shop. You’re so sweet with me, always checking if I’ve eaten and offering to help me out if I have chores I need to do. You always come pick me up if I’m working late. You— you’re so fucking special to me.”

Kazutora’s lips form a tight line. “I wish I could see that,” he whispers.

“Then just— let me try. Let me try until you can look at yourself the way I do,” you almost beg. You let go of the hold he has on your hands to gently cradle his face. “I’ll do anything, but... don’t patronize me. I’m not a little girl. Whatever life throws at me, I’ve always been able to handle it. No— we’ll handle it. Together. Like it’s always been, you and me, I just— please, I don’t want you to go,” you cry. “We were going to be happy together, you were going to live with me and I’d give you half my drawers and half my closet and half… half everything. Please, don’t go. Don’t go, Tora.”

The sadness in his amber eyes only confirms what you’ve been fearing this whole time. You sob, your thumbs softly stroking his cheeks as you feel the world crumbling around you. This time, he doesn’t stop you, letting you cry as you hold his face, coming to terms with the fact he’s really leaving after all.

Your hands move to his hair, gently threading your fingers across his long, dark locks. Tracing the outline of his face, you push one of the dyed streaks away, only for it to fall back right where it was before. You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. He’s so pretty, you think, as the pads of your fingers gently caress his face. Your thumb grazes the space between his bottom lip and his chin and you dream of a world when he’s not saying goodbye, but rather falling asleep under your touch on your shared bed. You never knew loving someone as much as you loved him was possible-- yet the way your heart was crumbling in pieces was evidence of how much your soul was aching by being separated from the person it belonged to.

Sniffling, you rub your cheek against your shoulder to wipe your tears. You swallow before raising another question.

“Is this a… temporary thing? Or for good?” Your voice comes out in a whisper as you place down your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He wants nothing more than to put his arms around your body like so many times before, but he’s aware that it will only make things more difficult. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting in vain. You should move on.”

Kazutora realizes how much he hates the idea as it leaves his lips. The idea of you starting over with someone else rots in his tongue. He doesn’t want you to hold anyone’s face the way you were just holding his. He wants to keep you all to himself, to go to endless visits to the grocery shop, to watch you fall asleep during movie night and then pretend you didn’t, to massage your hands as you tell him about his day.

But you don’t deserve the guck that’s forming inside his mind. He knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes out pouring and reaches you. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the one good thing he’s had in his life for many years. He promised to himself he wouldn’t let his ill state of mind touch his loved ones. Never again.

He watches you nod and feels his heart shattering, even if everything is going just the way he intended. You rub his shoulders and look into his eyes, a sad smile on the pretty lips he would never get to kiss again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We’ll end this but… when you leave, never doubt how loved you were. No— how loved you are. I don’t know what is coming for either of us but… I do know a part of my heart will always belong to you, no matter who I hold hands with. I will always love you, Tora.”

Your words are enough to finally break him. Kazutora clutches your body tightly against him as he loudly sobs against your shoulder. You hold him, tears flowing free once again as you try and soothe the man you love, leaving small kisses on the side of his head and whispering soft reassurances that it’s okay. It’s not, you tell yourself. It’s never going to be okay. But it has to be.

Carefully, you move him back to the sofa, helping him sit down while he refuses to let go of his hold on your body. You lean on the back pillows, both your arms cradling him while he whimpers like a small child. Kazutora clutches the fabric of your sweater with desperation, wishing there was a way he could stay with you.

Why does he have to give up the person that had put a smile back on his face? He can’t quite remember a time when his stomach had hurt out of laughter before he ever met you. Or when he’d experienced such peace as the night he stayed at your apartment and got to see your sleeping face first thing in the morning. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you and, for all he knows, he may never love like this again.

But he could never risk tainting you. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Kazutora softly pulls away from your embrace. His eyes are blotchy and red and you’re sure yours look the same or even worse. His nose is red, like it always does when he cries. It’s endearing, you think. Everything about him, from his hair, to his eyes, his hands— you’ve come to love every part of Kazutora. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to let him go.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says in a whisper, resting the side of his head on the back pillows of the sofa.

“Like what?” you ask, gently pushing his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“Like I matter to you. Like I’m making a huge mistake.”

You take a deep breath. Imitating him, you rest your head on the back pillows as well, so you’re both facing each other.

“I don’t— I don’t fully understand what you’re going through,” you admit, your eyes locked on his. “But if you need to… get away, then you should. You’ve been nothing but loving to me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not. You deserve to fully experience all the beautiful things life has to offer.”

Silent tears fall from both your cheeks and his.

“I should be thankful I got to love you for this whole year. Because even if it ends this way… God, I loved you so much,” you sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “And I felt so loved. Isn’t that magical in itself? That we got to love each other at the same time?” you wonder with a sad smile.

Kazutora parts his lips, yet the doorbell interrupts him before he can even speak. You look at the front door, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before you realize who’s probably there.

“Food’s here,” you say, wiping the tears from your face.

“Food?” Kazutora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Didn’t I tell you? The baking dish broke so I called that restaurant, the one with the burgers we like.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t really listening back then,” he admits with a pang of guilt. He sits up on the couch and turns his head at you. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You sit up as well. “I ordered for the two of us. C’mon, stay for dinner. Let’s… remember us this way, okay? Without so many tears and sadness,” you offer, tilting your head towards him. “I even ordered your favourite one.”

Kazutora rubs his face with his sleeve, erasing the trail of the tears he just shed. Looking at you, he nods, drawing a small smile on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll get it.”

He only walks a few steps towards the door before he feels you tugging at the back of his shirt. Turning around, he notices you’re standing right behind him. Your eyes look up to him, biting your bottom lip and not even a ghost of the smile you previously offered him.

“Before that, uh— I want you to know I… I mean it,” you firmly say, taking in all his facial features, loving how they soften every time he looks at you. “I’ll always love you. No matter how many years go by or if I ever stop being in love with you— I’ll still love you.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You finally let out a soft chuckle and squeeze his hand back. The doorbell rings again and you walk around Kazutora to get to it. This time, he’s the one that stops you, not letting go of the hold of your hand. Looking back at him, you notice the soft pout in his lips and how they softly tremble, looming more tears.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you know you’re saying it to yourself as well. “Who knows, we might get together again someday. Have our own Casablanca moment. We’ll always have the pet shop,” you joke, trying to fight back to tears that threaten to fill your eyes as well.

It’s Kazutora’s turn to chuckle, only this time he does it along with you. You let go of his hand only to hold his face tenderly, a soft smile as you look at the man you love. Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against the beauty mark under his right eye. You feel his hands setting on the small of your back and watch his smile widen when you fall back on your heels.

Locking your fingers with him once more, you open the door.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #kazutora x reader #hanemiya kazutora x reader #kazutora hanemiya x reader #kazutora hanemiya #hanemiya kazutora #tokyo revengers #kazutora angst #tokyo revengers angst #kazutora x you #kazutora x y/n #hanemiya kazutora x you #hanemiya kazutora x y/n

986 notes · View notes

folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

Still The Louvre (m)

A/N: Someone requested this and I hope you like it! This happens when you have Lorde’s Melodrama on repeat whilst writing…thanks for inspiring me queen (although I’m not sure why breakup songs made me write this lol) Also Merry early Christmas to those who celebrate!! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fluff, smut, car sex, childhood friends to lovers, a tiny bit of angst but only for 0.5 minutes maybe, I hope this heals someone who’s given up on finding love, you all deserve someone who sees the best in you!!!

words: ~ 3.9 k

“We’re just friends. Guys and girls can be friends! We’ve always been best friends, ever since we were seven. Nothing more.” That’s what you used to say. Now look who was the clown in those conversations all along. You guessed correctly - it was you. Because on your sixteenth birthday, he showed up in his black tee and baseball jacket, with your favorite candy and a heart-shaped necklace. Little did he know, if you could, you would have carved his initials into it, right there and then. Because it was that day, you understood one thing. You were head over heels in love with your best friend.

You would have been the perfect high school sweethearts – had it not been for the three different girls he had dated instead of you. He always had all their hearts, the only thing he needed to do was pick. And who could blame the other girls? He was all you could ever ask for, so there was no point in being bitter about their adoration for him.

Multiple times, you had tried to convince yourself you were over him. Like when you went out with one of the popular guys, only to realize three dates in that he was the possibly most boring person you had ever encountered. Or like that one time you agreed to go to prom with the class clown. He almost made you spit out your drink of laughter all night long, but when he tried to stick his tongue down your throat at the end of it all, you changed your mind. Your most successful boyfriend stayed for a full six months, before leaving you. He had been jealous of your relationship with your best friend. And you couldn’t even resent it. Your then-boyfriend had been in second place all along, and you should have never even dated him.

Long story short, whenever you looked at boys, you compared them to your best friend. And your best friend was an invincible competitor. It was safe to say, your teenage years weren’t what the films made them out to be. Except if there was a movie about a girl who cried so much about her best friend who she loved, she almost thought there was something seriously wrong with her. Some days the pain was so heavy, you’d get mad at him for no reason. Then you’d have to tell him lies that wouldn’t worry him and move on. Who could you tell? Your best friend was the one supposed to help you through boy trouble, wasn’t he? Yeah, that wasn’t going to work for you.

But that was the past. Lately, life was better. You couldn’t pinpoint when you first noticed the way he looked at you. Was it when he told you he felt like no boy in the world would be good enough for you, so maybe he should date you instead? It sounded like a joke, but his eyes said differently. Or was it when he asked you to sleep in his bed instead on his spare mattress at one of your sleepovers you’d had since you were eleven? He held you without words being shared, and neither of you addressed it in the morning. Maybe you both knew what it meant, either way. The mere thought of him liking you back was almost unbelievable for you. But after last night, you had no doubt. You had been in the elevator in the cinema with him. It was only ten seconds, and before you could have kissed his face that was inches from yours, the doors had opened. But he had chuckled and grinned at you for thrice the time afterwards. As if you had a new inside joke now.

It seemed you both knew what you wanted. But were you willing to take your friendship to that level?

Today, you were sure you were willing. Your heart almost ached in desire for him when you saw him standing with your shared friends. There, on the beach in the dark of night, with a bonfire drawing the warmest orange glow on his skin, you thought he had never looked more handsome. It was a small get-together between old school friends you both hadn’t seen in a while. And you should have been all over them, asking them about their lives and how they’ve been. Instead you only had eyes for the person you saw every day of your life. You swore you’d never get enough of his sweet smile and eyes so trustworthy you wanted to put all your deepest secrets right into his hands. His chest was heaving from laughter as he pat his friend’s shoulder in agreement. Oh, how dearly you wanted that hand to slip into your very own.

It was a warm night, you had been eating marshmallows, sharing genuine laughter and looking up at the stars and the full moon. Only one thing could have made your experience better, or one person, rather. You silently cursed yourself, because the night was coming to an end – some people had already left – and you still hadn’t made your move on him like you had planned it. But then your song played from the speaker. The very song you two always played in your car whenever you drove somewhere together. Every small beat reminded you of him and the lyrics were carved into your heart, it seemed.

When he noticed, his eyes shot up and met yours. They crinkled up into a smile that you returned. Finally, he made his way over to you and automatically your arms opened for him. Like coming home, he melted into your figure, arms mellow around your body. Quietly, he sang along into your ear, like every little word was meant just for you. You only pulled away slightly, so you could look at each other’s faces. You could’ve cried, realizing the time you had waited for him had been worth it after all. He was giving you a look you had thought would be forever reserved for other girls – but never for you. The starry sky above you wouldn’t stand a chance compared to his dreamy eyes and the fresh ocean air could easily be forgotten, if it meant to be in his arms and breathe in his familiar scent. If you leaned forward only a little, you could kiss him.

“Guys, we’re headed off,” a voice interrupted you.

“We should get going too, don’t you think?” he said. Almost mechanically, you nodded. You reminded yourself that you would still be in the car with him for twenty minutes until you’d arrive at home. And he’d stay at your place. You had him all night long. As you walked to your car, his hand brushed against yours softly, and you weren’t sure if it was just an accident, at first. But he was smiling as if he knew everything when you looked over at him and there you had your answer. The moment he had sat down in the passenger seat of your car, he was digging around for a CD to play. He settled for a playlist he had made for you in spring.

There was so much to be said and simultaneously silence had never felt more comfortable while you drove. You were going south along the high cliffs to your right. It was truly the most beautiful part of your hometown.

“I hate driving here,” you said.

“You don’t like driving along the cliffs? Too dangerous?” he asked.

“No. It’s too beautiful here to just look straight ahead at the road,” you said. He chuckled.

“We can stop at the tourist spot if you want to look at the sea,” he suggested. You smiled because he knew you so well. The ‘tourist spot’ really was a small parking spot right by the road, with space for about ten cars. You could already see it ahead of you. On sunny days lots of people driving down the coast liked to stop there for a rest and to take photos. Now, it was completely empty, of course. You parked at the spot closest to the cliff, so you could look down at the sea without having to get out of your car.

The slow playlist he had made for you was still playing when you switched off the engine. You knew right then and there, no matter where the night went, you’d remember this moment forever. The glow of the full moon was sparkling on the wild billows beneath you. Your eyes fixed on the horizon for a moment, as if you could have seen the closest island if only you paid enough attention. But it was only a wild vastness seemingly without end. Momentarily, you thought you spotted something in the water. Whales? But when you looked closer, there was nothing but the white and dark blue colors of the tempestuous waves.

“It’s gorgeous,” you spoke into the silence, your chin resting on your forearms on the steering wheel. You waited for his response. When it didn’t come, you turned to look his way. He was already looking at you. If cupid was real, he had just fired another arrow at your heart. Never could you have guessed how your best friend’s foolish grin could have made your heart skip a beat like this. Without another thought entering your head, you bent over to him. He knew what it meant when you mirrored his smile.

And then, you closed your eyes. You could admit it now - every time you had blown out your birthday candles, this was all you had ever wished for. His lips fit so perfectly onto yours. After the amount of times you had imagined it, really kissing him still was so much better than it had ever felt in your wildest dreams. His hands tangled in your hair and you almost couldn’t breathe. But then again, you didn’t need to. Right then, you didn’t need anything but him. For the first time, you touched the back of his neck in the way you had always wanted to – to pull his mouth closer to yours.

When you pulled away, everything in you screamed ‘Do it again! Now!’. It was as if your mind was worried that he would slip right through your fingertips if you didn’t hold him close to you for the rest of your life. Too many times you had thought that maybe you could have him, only to be let down because your hopes were too high.

“When did you first want to do this?” you asked, because you needed to know.

“About four months ago, probably. What about you?” he said. His hand was still on yours, as if to say “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere”.

“Ever since I was sixteen,” you said. You could have lied, but what was the use? You loved him too much to ever deceive him. His eyes widened. His hurt was yours, and so you understood the way your words must had pierced through his heart. Now he knew. You could practically read it in his eyes, how he realized the pain, the jealousy and disappointment he had caused, for years, without ever intending to do so. And although you should have wanted him to understand your hurt, the guilt and pain in his look was unbearable.

“It’s not your fau-“ you started.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “I’m so sorry – god I’m such an ignorant asshole.”

“No!” you said, taking his hand in both of yours. “You are my best friend, and you have caused me endless hours of happiness. I would have taken any sadness if it meant I could be your best friend forever.”

His eyes were watering and your heart felt like someone had gripped and twisted it in their bare hands.

“I was dating people and you had to sit and watch,” he said in disbelief.

“It meant to see you happy,” you said. “Hating you or those girls wouldn’t have changed your feelings for me. Because we don’t choose what we feel and for whom we feel things.”

“I love you,” he let out. “I’m so in love with you and I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life, I swear.”

His words hit you like a torrent and you didn’t even care about the years of hurt anymore.

“There’s nothing you need to make up to me. I just need you to be here with me. Let me love you the way I’ve secretly loved you all this time,” you said. You touched foreheads until your breaths mixed.

“I’m yours – all yours,” he said. “I’m sorry. It took so long for me to realize and you were here all along, waiting for me. I never wanted to hurt you. How can I apologize properly?”

“Just kiss me again, please,” you said, almost begged. “Kiss me and it’ll all go away.”

And so he did. You had never known how much emotion could be in a kiss. But then again, you had never felt this strongly for anyone else but him. You deepened the kiss, bending almost all the way over to his side of the car. His hands were touching your cheeks so gently, but they were coaxing you closer and closer. When his tongue stroked over your bottom lip, you sighed against his mouth.

“I want you,” you admitted. You thought about driving home, but you needed to be honest to yourself. Driving in this state of mind was probably not safe.

“Backseat?” he asked, lips barely leaving yours alone. Hastily, you nodded. He climbed back there first, then you followed. It was only ten seconds that you couldn’t hold him for, but you yearned for him more than ever when you finally sat down in his lap, facing him. Without hesitation, your hungry mouths attacked each other again. You swore, you could have sat there all night long, kissing and touching him, if there hadn’t been something you wanted even more.

Swiftly, you slid his shirt over his head. Of course, you had seen him shirtless before, but never like this. Never with his chest practically heaving against yours, never with your hands being able, being allowed to touch him. Your fingertips were shaky against his smooth skin and you must had looked at him as if he was carved directly from marble. So he put his fingers under your chin and you looked into his eyes. If his body was marble, his eyes were diamonds. Ever so gently, he kissed you again. For a while you sipped on each other’s lips, only pulling away for a moment so you could remove your own shirt. You had opted to not wear a bra that day, out of comfort but also laziness. All along you used to think that saying someone’s eyes darkened in lust was an exaggeration, but when you looked into his, you understood. It was true. The way he eyed you was beyond all your most daring dreams you had ever dreamt about him.

Your lips meddled messily as his hands ran down your body starting from your neck, to your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples. He was careful not to tickle you, knowing from hundreds of childhood play fights where your weak spots were. Your back arched against his chest, wanting more than his careful touches. On impulse, your hips ground against his crotch. As if on cue, you both let out strained noises. By now, your breaths were heavy when you pulled away shortly. Dreamy eyed, he touched the pendant of the necklace between your collar bones.

“I gave you that…,” he started.

“For my sixteenth birthday,” you finished his sentence. You caught a flash of regret in his gaze, but you weren’t going to let him feel that way. Not now. Like you had wanted to so many times, you bent to his neck and began peppering kisses on his skin.

“Can I give you a hickey?” you whispered, almost afraid you were still in a dream.

“Just one?” he asked, and even without looking at him you could hear the grin in his voice. After sharing him with so many girls for so long, it almost felt selfish. But you reminded yourself that he wanted you now, after all. He groaned when your teeth grazed his skin and you sucked purple marks onto his neck and shoulder. His restless hands touched all over your boobs and hips, down to your ass where they slid into the back pockets of your pants for a moment. Again, you pressed your crotch against his hips, yearning for any kind of friction. At the same time, your hand wandered along his chest to the hem of his pants. Without looking, you opened his belt and the zipper of his bottoms.

He hissed when you grabbed his clothed dick through his underwear and his fingers dug into your sides. A few times you pumped his already hard shaft through the material. Then he moaned your name and you had never heard anything more perfect. The mere sound of his breathy, husky voice turned you on so much more than you had ever imagined.

“Fuck me, please,” you spoke, kissing him deeply. He hummed a needy yes against your lips and nodded. You climbed off him so you could lie down on the seats. He wriggled out of his pants and then helped you out of your own. When he lay down between your thighs and you felt his weight on top of you, it seemed like he had always belonged right there. It had been a hauntingly long journey, but now that you knew the end of it, you accepted all the sleepless nights you had experienced.

“Hold on,” you said, finding your bag on the floor to reach for the condom inside. He hummed a thank you as he ripped the pack and rolled the rubber over his stiff member. His fingertips teased the inside of your thighs, while he pressed open mouthed kisses onto your neck. A drawn out moan of agreement left your lips and momentarily, your eyes shut in the bliss of anticipation.

“You look so beautiful in the moonlight,” he said. His fingers run through your folds, collecting the wetness. You couldn’t help but whimper at the contact, and maybe also slightly because his words made your heart swell in the most marvelous way possible. Through flattering eyelids, you watched his stupidly handsome features as he curled his fingertips against your clit. All of you wanted more, but you only managed to moan his name in pleasure.

“You ready?” he asked, and you weren’t sure if you brain had even processed the amount of rapture he was causing you – but of course you were. You had been for years.

“Yes,” you said. Just for a moment, he run the tip of his cock through your wet folds. When he finally entered you, you realized you had been holding your breath – now it came out in a relieved sigh. He groaned at the mere sensation of filling you up, and when you opened your eyes to look at him it almost made you dizzy in admiration. Gradually, he thrusted into you, hips fitting against yours like two puzzle pieces finally united.

As he picked up the pace, you moaned in surprise but more in agreement. You felt his hand on yours and linked your fingers. Other men had made you feel good before – but only now you realized how true those statements from women were, when they said that nothing was like sleeping with the one you were in love with. The mixture of pleasure and the way you mooned over his whole being was a lot to take in. But it would never be too much. He was perfect for you. When you threw your head back you spotted the full moon and the brightest stars in the sky, trying to outshine each other.

He hit a spot inside of you that made you arch your back off the seats. Tightly, you shut your eyes and squeezed his hand.

“Oh my- You feel so good,” you moaned. When you felt the tip of his nose brush against yours, you opened your eyes. They met his galaxy eyes, and his mouth was parted slightly. You could barely breathe at the way he looked at you. When would anyone else ever see you in this way? It didn’t matter, you only wanted him either way.

He reached for the back of your thigh, lifting your leg slightly. The different angle felt even better, making you whimper and grab the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for somewhere to hold on to. He groaned when you pulled his hair a little, and you smirked. You could barely wait to find out all the other things he liked and wanted to do to you in the future. But for now, you weren’t in a rush. It had been a long time since you had felt so at peace and full of happiness. Time was nonexistent right then. All you knew were his soft lips on your jaw and the way his perfect cock was making you see a blur of stars in front of your eyelids.

“I’m gonna- come,” you whimpered.

“Hmm…me too,” he groaned. “Let go for me, baby.”

His hand came in contact with your clit, feverishly rubbing the sensitive nub. The nickname he had called you would have made your cheeks heat up, had they not already been that way from the intensity of your emotions. Your stomach tightened and you only wanted to pull him closer to you.

He reached his high shortly before you did. A few curses fell off his lips as you felt him twitch inside of you, hips moving in sharp thrusts. Even if you had wanted to look at him, it was impossible for you to keep your eyes open, as his fingers still worked their magic on you. His last thrusts were hard and short, but they sent you over the edge too. Just as he pulled out, you met your climax. It was like falling but knowing there was a pair of gentle arms right there to catch you, so you didn’t have to be scared. You moaned his name, and this time he was actually here to hear it. Your chest pressed against his, foreheads touching, your legs tightened around his waist from sensitivity. After slowing down, he removed his fingers from your center completely.

Together, you lay in silence trying to catch your breaths and clear your heads. You scooted over a little, so he could balance his body on his side next to you. Light as a feather, his fingers brushed over your lips, before he bent down and kissed you again. This time it was a long kiss, with less need but even more passion. For what felt like the hundredth time, you questioned reality. Almost as if to check if it really was him, you stroked over his cheek and gazed up at him. But he was right there. Your best friend. Now more than your best friend. Through the opened crack of the car window you made out the crashing waves that caressed the cliffs underneath you two. Mingled with your song playing from the car’s speakers, the mysterious noise seemed to pick you up and tell you “Look at what you’ve been through, only one last time, then put it behind you. You’re where you’re supposed to be, now.”

563 notes · View notes

wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

If It’s Meant to Be

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: After you breakup, Loki regrets how he pushed you away. He can only hope that you’ll come back to him. Warnings: lots of angst and some fluff at the end A/N: Requested by the lovely @gaitwae. Hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord

Disclaimer: Gif not mine.

It happened on a sunny day that Loki found out you’d moved on and started seeing someone else. It didn’t feel right that the world should be lit up by the golden rays when there was such a storm inside him. He tried his best to push his thoughts aside, he really did, but you kept popping into his mind. You and that boorish new boyfriend of yours. Loki didn’t know the man, but he already hated him. In reality, he hated himself far more for letting you go.

Loki had blocked most of the events leading to your breakup from his mind, but on the floor among the glass he’d shattered, it was coming back to him. He hadn’t even meant to break anything, not exactly. It was just that he was so angry, he wasn’t looking where he was going. Then the god bumped into the end table and, in a fit of rage, flipped it over. He hadn’t been thinking about the vase sitting on top of it. Or what was in it for that matter. Otherwise he may have been more careful as not to end up sitting among shards and your favorite flowers.

Back when you were dating, he had gotten nervous that he was no good for you. You had always been so understanding of his feelings, but it was different this time. He hadn’t told you how he felt, so you couldn’t help him through it. Instead, he started going on more missions, sometimes not even telling you. It hurt him when you confronted him on that.

“You’re just up and leaving without so much as a goodbye,” you said with teary eyes. “I keep finding out from Tony that you’re gone again. Is it something I did? I’m just... I’m just worried about you, Loki.”

He held you closer that day than he had in months. “I am so sorry, darling, please believe me. I will tell you from now on, you have my word.” He kissed the top of your head and rocked you back and forth. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and cried a little. “You also must know that this is not your fault. I swear it on my life, it is not because of anything you did. I love you, my darling, truly I do.”

“Then what is it, Loki?” you asked, raising your head and lifting your hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch. “What’s wrong? You used to tell me these things. You know you can still talk to me about anything, right? I’m still here for you.”

“I know. I just... It feels like something I need to work through myself.”

“I understand. Just, I’m still here, ok? We don’t have to talk, even. I could just hold you.” You paused, looking into his eyes. You saw it in that moment, his heart fracturing. “You know, like you used to let me.”

You were too pure for him, he knew it. He knew it as you spoke those words. He knew it as he let you hold him, the vile, venomous snake that he was. And you did it gently, so gently. Somehow he was still breaking. Loki kept himself together as much as he could manage, started telling you when he was leaving, though the missions only became more frequent. And longer, too. For your part, you held on as long as you could, were there for him as much as you could be. But it was too hard when he kept distancing himself from you.

“Listen, Loki,” you calmly said one night after he returned to the Tower, as tired and removed as ever. “I love you. I love you so much. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t be in a relationship with you if that’s not what you want. And it seems like you don’t want it anymore. Your gone so much, and when you’re here, you’re so far away that you may as well have not come back. Just talk to me,” you pleaded. “I want to this fix this. Just talk to me.”

“I am sorry, darling. I can’t. I- I just don’t want to ruin you,” he replied, head bowed.

You took a deep breath, trying to quell your tears. Loki winced as your voice broke. “Then I’m sorry too, but I have to go. I wish you all the best, my love.”

For one final time, you kissed him. It was slow, it was gentle and tender. It was a goodbye. Still, you looked over your shoulder before you closed the door, silently praying for him to say something, anything, to stop you. He didn’t move, and so the door clicked behind you as he let the best thing to ever happen to him walk out of his life.

What was it that you Midgardians say? If you love someone, let them go. If it’s meant to be, they’ll come back to you. Well, Loki decided that was a load of rubbish. Because you most clearly were meant to be. Maybe the first part had some merit to it, though; he let you go because he loved you and couldn’t bear to let you chain yourself to a monster. He couldn’t help but wonder if he actually was one though, for surely monsters didn’t have hearts. But him? He knew he had one because he could feel it breaking.

After that day, Loki tried to hold on to the fragments of himself as he felt he was drifting off into space. He didn’t slow his pace on the missions, now a distraction to numb his pain. Then one day, Tony made him take a break. He spent nearly a month moving around the Tower like a wraith, void of any outer expressions. Avoiding the lower floors at all costs, he mainly stuck to the private sections where he and the other Avengers lived. It was a precaution to keep himself from bumping into you, who worked in the Tower.

Two months later, he felt well enough to go outside again. He took the stairs down with Thor on one of the days he knew you wouldn’t be in. His brother looked afraid that he might turn to ash by stepping out into the sun for the first time in a while. Needless to say, he didn’t, but Thor kept throwing him worried glances as they went on their run.

From there, Loki took things one day at a time. He still thought about you often. About three months after the breakup, he started visiting the floor where you worked, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Maybe if he saw you, he’d even get the courage to apologize. Then again, maybe it’s better if he just leaves you be.

He still hadn’t decided which was better when he got too careless one day, and you caught sight of him. He heard you say “excuse me” to whoever you were talking to before taking off in the direction where he was. Panicking, he fled the scene, but you still followed. At the end of the hall, he turned. But by the time you rounded the corner after him, he was already gone, having teleported back to his quarters.

Now he wonders what you would have said to him. Alas, he stopped seeking you out, so he’d never know. Plus, Tony was finally letting him volunteer for missions again, so he could fill his time that way. Even that began to hurt, though, as he realized he used to have your warm embrace to return to. These days, he went home to a cold, empty room. He’d lay on his bed and create small illusions of his memories with you until he realized it was doing his mental health more harm than good. Wasn’t that what had gotten him into this mess in the first place? His mental health? So, he sat up and stretched out, finally deciding to drag himself out of this slump he was in.

If there was one silver lining to come out of this, it was that his teammates actually became his friends. He wasn’t sure exactly when he began to think of them as such, but he did. It was in no small part due to the increased amount of time he was spending with them in your absence. You would have been proud of him if you knew. You’d always encouraged him to get to know them better, to not be such a loner. Satisfied with having you and his brother, he never did much listen to you on that matter. Well, now he was being forced out of his comfort zone. After all, he could only handle his brother in small doses, and he was all Loki had now.

Five months had passed since you’d left Loki, since he’d pushed you away. After weeks of trying, Loki’s friends had finally coaxed him into attending Tony’s latest party. So, he appeared in a full suit and tie with his fellow Avengers. Rather begrudgingly, he was enjoying himself.

He was laughing by the bar with Wanda and Bucky when he saw you. Despite trying not to look your way again, he failed and kept stealing glances at you. Eventually, he caught your eye, and you gave a shy little wave. He returned it along with an small but excited smile. Just as he was about to take his first step towards you, a man he didn’t recognize came up next to you. The stranger put his arm around you and handed you a drink. And then you kissed him, shattering Loki’s heart all over again. By the time you looked back over, the trickster god was gone.

Storming down to the ground level of the Tower, he pushed through the door and out into the world, desperate for fresh air. Suddenly feeling like he was being choked, he loosened his tie from around his neck before taking it off completely. It was too bright out, the sunlight blinding his eyes as he walked without direction. Just away, far away. He walked until the sun rose again the next day, the same thoughts circling in his mind the whole time. This was his fault. He’d let you go. He’d pushed you away. There was no one to blame but himself.

Loki slept all the next day, worn from his mindless wandering. It was like all the progress he’d made over the last several months were drained from his body. Still, he tried to carry on with his normal routine, and went for his morning run with Thor. Sometimes Steve and Sam joined them, too, but they were both on a mission at the moment. It was a good thing, too, because Loki didn’t think he could handle the embarrassment of the double take he did had they been there. Just as he and his brother were exiting, the man he could only presume to be your boyfriend entered. But you weren’t working that day, and sure enough, he swiped in with his own card. Now not only would Loki have to avoid you, he’d have to avoid your boyfriend, too, lest seeing his face threw him in a blind, vengeful rage.

Four more months passed, and Loki was doing an excellent job of not seeing you or Owen, which he later found out was your boyfriend’s name. And yet, he longed for you. Your gentle touch. Your kind words. The Avengers kept pushing for him to start seeing someone else, but he still didn’t feel ready, leaving him to pine for you from afar.

Loki walked into the elevator after quickly dropping off a file on the floor you worked on. Thankfully, he managed to avoid seeing you. As the doors began to close, he heard a voice asking him to keep them open. He obliged while the person quickly rushed over, the large stack of papers they carried covering their face.

“Thank you,” they said, struggling with the unwieldy stack, voice slightly strained as they desperately tried to keep from dropping it.

“It is no problem. What floor?” Loki responded, hitting the button that corresponded with their answer. “Would you like some help with that?”

“I’m fine. I-”

Loki caught the falling stack with impressive reflexes as the person cut out and dropped it. He looked at their now exposed face. It was you. Neither of you said anything for a moment as you both somewhat awkwardly balanced the papers between you.

“Oh! Hi, Loki. I, um,” you cleared your throat, “I guess I could use some help.”

“Yes. Very well, then,” he said, taking slightly more than half the stack. It was oppressively silent for another moment as you both stared at the numbers denoting what floor you were on dropping far too slowly for your liking. Loki swore the elevator had never been this slow before. “So, uh, how have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been fine,” you replied, diverting your gaze for a minute. “You know, same as usual. How about you?”

“Fine, fine. Same as always, really.” Another awkward silence. “I heard you were seeing someone. How is he doing, your boyfriend?”

“Do you mean Owen? We actually broke up a few weeks ago.”

“I am sorry,” Loki apologized. “I did not know.”

“It’s totally fine,” you laughed it off in a way that was music to his ears. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

As the doors opened and you deposited the papers where you needed to, Loki couldn’t help but think of that Midgardian phrase again. He’d loved you, and he’d let you go, completing the first part. Well, maybe it was time to make good on the second.

“I do not suppose,” he began, “that you would like to go out for a coffee sometime? Just to catch up, is all.”

You smiled at him softly. “I would love that.”

After setting your plans, you parted ways. Loki felt happier than he had in a long time. After all, you’d come back to him, even if it was just as friends for the moment. But he was certain it would turn into something more, sooner or later. Why? Because deep in his heart, he was sure he’d always known it. You were meant to be.

231 notes · View notes

eleanore-delphinium · 3 years

Text

Reciprocate I (2021 Version)

DISCLAIMER: Repost with additional details and edits from same title piece found in DAMIRAE ENTRIES (A03).

Part 2: Reciprocate I

Finale: Reciprocate III: The After

~.~.~.~.~.

Reciprocate I: Raven

'There she was again at the foot of her bed, in her room in the Titans Tower—weeping. It was like she was grieving. But knowing her—she probably was.' Damian couldn't help but think as he stood unmoving by her bedroom door.

Raven's head was buried into her hands as she cried.

This again. How many times has Damian seen Raven like this? How many times had he come and comforted her?

Raven noticed someone's presence inside her bedroom. And she knew that there was only one person who would come into her room in the state that she was in.

Damian Wayne.

Damian Wayne who is the leader of the Teen Titans at the age of nineteen, which Raven had been a member for seven years and at twenty-one she has been one of the longest active team members, alongside Garfield or also known as, Beast Boy.

'Garfield. It has to be him again.' Damian thought bitterly as he gazed down on the floor with a darkened gazed. And how many times had he comforted her over him? Of all people, how many times had he comforted her over Garfield?

"Damian?" Raven called out in a broken sob as she wiped her tears and glanced to her left side to find, and to no surprise, that it really was Damian who was inside her bedroom. Garfield would never come to comfort her after their arguments, she came to realize at some point, the one that did that was Damian. When she met his blank gaze after he looked up from the floor, she couldn't help but give a faint smile and cried again.

"We broke up again." She cried into her hands and in response to her words, Damian just clenched and unclenched his right fist. Of course, Raven would not feel the turmoil he was feeling and had not seen his reaction. She always failed to notice him.

He wandered very frequently, like right now, if his existence held any weight to her at all. If he was someone that would make her react the way she was, about a man who didn't see her value the way he did.

"And what? This is for the nth time. Am I supposed to be surprised?" Damian said in a rather cold voice laced with something else he couldn't identify at that moment. But his breathing was uneven and yet Raven still didn't notice as she stopped crying and stared at him- and he regretted his tone. He regretted making her look so broken and hurt and he simply just wanted to undo how he had said his words. But the thing was—he meant it, with every beating of his aching heart.

"You don't understand." Her voice comes out so weak that his heart sunk for her or maybe for him. "This time—" Raven's eyes widened a bit. "This time—it's for real. No more do-overs. No more makeup. This time—" Raven started to hyperventilate. "This time we're really done."

And saying the words aloud—despite it not actually being loud enough perhaps because of how broken and in pain she was, made Raven realize how true the situation really is. Only a tear slipped down her left eye as she sat there frozen and very unmoving. The situation sinking deeper into her soul.

This time it's for real. The words echoed in both their heads, and yet their emotions towards those words were quite different, almost opposite.

How many times had he heard that-was he supposed to believe it? But seeing her empty gaze and unmoving body—he knew—that this really was for real. And in Damian's mind he had already reached out to caress her face to comfort her.

There was a small amount of happiness in the back of Damian's mind as opposed to Raven's sheer grieve over those words: This time it's for real.

'Until that 'for real' becomes another lie.' Damian's mind couldn't help but whisper to his heart, the small glimmer of happiness damped just as quickly as it came. He shouldn't even find happiness in her sorrows.

"He says he's leaving the team— he's going to join Young Justice." Damian was surprised to hear this as the information had not gotten to him yet. "He told me not to follow him—because this really is the end of the line for him and I." She pressed her lips together.

He didn't know what to say, how to comfort her at this moment. He stared intently at her but with as much a gentle gaze he could offer. If what she said was true, perhaps this was his chance. He shook his head, to shake the thought out as it should not be the priority now but he couldn't help it. His heart has become so weary.

"Raven." He called out to her as he approached her slowly. Her eyes flickered to meet his gaze and as she did so, silent tears fell from her eyes again. "Maybe that is a good thing."

And Raven did not take it well. What did Damian mean? Her tears fell faster as she broke into a sob, she covered her mouth with her right hand, unaccepting of what he had just uttered to her.

"Raven." He called her again, as he sat beside her and touched her left hand with his right hand. "This could be a good thing. You can finally let someone take care of you the way you deserve."

This wasn't what she wanted to hear and it wasn't what she expected to hear from him.

Of all the times Damian had comforted her over her numerous break-ups with Garfield he had never—ever—said such a thing to her. And she felt as though he had punched her yet all she could do was wept loudly in response.

Damian sighed and hesitated to hug her, but eventually was able to wrap his arms around her shaking form. It was not the tightest hug he could give, but it was all that he could muster to give to her. And this time he couldn't help but wonder if she could hear his aching heart from such a close distance.

"I love him, Damian." She wept as she gave him a tighter hug and Damian flinched at the words she spoke. But of course, Raven failed to feel it, just like the pain that he was clearly resonating from deep within his bones and soul.

Love? Damian wanted to snicker at her and yet it was also something that would be directed at him.

"Have I not tried everything to please him? Where have I failed?" She pulled away from his embrace, the distance between their faces only a mere two feet away. Her hands were on Damian's chest as she looked up at him. "Am I not enough?" She sobbed as he furrowed his brows at the words he knew to be so ridiculous to hear.

Not enough? He felt the anger that he had buried a long time ago shimmer from very deep within him.

"Is my love not enough? Is this why he never chooses me? Didn't I try everything to please him? Do I not deserve love? Is this why I'm always—just—I'm never chosen?" She ranted as her left hand wrapped around Damian and her forehead rested on the back of her right hand that was on Damian's chest over his heart. And Raven continued to cry. Her words reflected the way he had been living for how many years now.

He silently bit his lip. Even though her hand was already resting so firmly over his heart, she still couldn't feel or hear his heart breaking at that very moment. How many times had he let her break his heart over and over again?

"You call this love?" He whispered unexpectedly. And when Raven pulled away to look at him with confusion on her face—Damian understood that he had spoken his thoughts aloud. He can't take it back now. He looked down at her, mirroring her confusion but water was pooling on his lower eyelids.

"How can you call this love?" He said in such a low voice with plain disbelief and confusion. "How many times have you cried over Garfield? How many times have you said you two will never get back together—and yet somehow you get back together—despite how many times he has hurt you. But you hurt him too—but still—the pain you two inflict on each other—when will it be enough?"

Raven felt like he had dumped cold water on her and as Damian looked at her expression- even, he had felt that he had dumped cold water on her.

His mouth quivered as he contemplated whether he should take it back-of how he should take it back. But he had meant every single word and Raven's face was ashen from his words. She took in three long breaths controlling the ache in her chest. She found that at this moment, she was more hurt over what Damian said than over her breakup with Garfield. Damian wondered when his cycle would come to an end.

"How could you say that?" It came out barely as a whisper and her grief over her break up had become forgotten. She wiped the tears off of her face, as she completely pulled away from Damian by standing up from her bed.

"How could I?" He asked with a broken laugh as he stood up to face the door, Raven behind him as he secretly wiped the tear that slipped out of his eye. "How could you not? How many times have you two broken up in the span that I have been a part of the team? Let's not count when I wasn't part of the team! How can you—" A pause as he controlled his temper and the tears that wanted to fall. Damian closed his eyes as he deeply inhaled. When his green eyes opened there was a coldness befitting a son of an assassin and he turned to look at her.

"You two—not respect one another enough to just call it quits the first time—or maybe by the third time of your break ups. Why would you—you two—drag out this pain for all these years?" Damian's voice had a hint of suppressed tension in it. And Raven laughed at his rant, but the laughter sounded so resigned that Damian's heart couldn't help but flinch. She had looked away from him as she continued to laugh.

"Of course, you wouldn't understand how I feel!" Raven paused from laughing to stare at his green eyes coldly trying to compete with the indifference he was showing her. "I can't believe that I had thought you understood me—I can't believe I expected you to understand!" Another fit of broken laugher. Damian clenched his fist at her words. The disdain she had for Damian—he felt. And yet she still did not see his feelings- she still did not feel his feelings. How his heart at this moment was aching because of the love he had for her that he could never say out loud.

"I knew him for seven years Damian! Seven bloody years! And I love him. I love him so, so much." And Raven could not help but start to cry again. "I love him- for seven years."

It was a fact, it was undeniable. It simply is. He smiled brokenly at her, the indifference gone.

"Time does not guarantee that you are meant to be with someone." Damian said it so simply and when the words fell on Raven's ears—she froze.

"Why are you doing this?" She whispered not expecting an answer, as she simply had just spoken what was in her mind. She really did not expect this from Damian.

"Just because you know someone for a long time and love them just as long—it doesn't mean you could not love someone with the same intensity even when you just met." He continued on his voice soft and in a very resigned manner, and yet Raven wanted to scream at him and ask why he was continuing on.

Why was he doing this?

Her heart was aching enough already. Why were you adding to that? She wanted to say but found her lips could not form those words.

"Get. Out." Raven heard herself say after a minute had passed, it came out softly and with no weight to it. Damian looked at her with evasive eyes. "Get Out." She said a bit more firmly to which Damian stood unmoving with furrowed brows in front of her.

He seemed like he wanted to tell her more, but Raven did not allow him to. She wouldn't let him break her heart again. Why did this feel even worse than her breakup?

"Get Out! I said get out!" She yelled. Damian glared at her with his jaw clenched and hands in a fist. She tried to match his anger as she glared back. But Damian knew he was at a loss, he would give anything to make her happy. And so he concedes and leaves quietly out of her bedroom. Before the door was fully closed, he heard Raven fall on her knees and wept again, muttering something he couldn't quite catch.

"I love him- for seven years…" She whispered and repeated. She wondered for a split second if she was trying to convince herself of this fact. And she continued to grieve alone in her bedroom.

~.~.~.~.~

Damian was in the gym room of the Titan Tower. He was punching a sandbag with wrapped hands. He had been at the gym for a few days straight to vent out —in fact since his first failure at comforting Raven over her break up. He had tried to be unbiased, but everyone had a tipping point and Damian Wayne simply hit his tipping point on the matter.

Even so, he tried to act accordingly as the leader of the Titans. He had started comforting Raven in the pretense of his obligation as the team leader. But maybe it wasn't a pretense—and if so—when had it started becoming a pretense? When did he start convincing himself that it was part of the duty as the leader? When it was clear-looking back- that he had a weak spot for Raven and that he gave her special treatment.

Raven and Garfield appeared to be as civil as they could around each other after their recent breakup. And finally, Garfield had talked to Damian about leaving the team. Something about moving up the ladder. And God hearing that made Damian want to punch the man.

What did that entail 'moving up the ladder'? Did Raven not fit Garfield's desire—is that why they broke up this time around? She wasn't too high up that ladder? But Damian never voiced out the thoughts that invaded him as he heard Garfield say what he did.

In fact, Damian tried not to comment about Raven and Garfield's relationship, or lack thereof, just as he always had but the same could be said with anyone else. He tried to be as much of a team leader as needed be—and he did not—absolutely did not mention their personal romantic relationships with one another unless it was to remind them that he does not wish for it to affect the group dynamic. And maybe that was what led him to comfort Raven the first time around.

Damian valued the team dynamic too much just for a couple to ruin it. But when it was Raven who was so upset over her relationship, he would find himself in front of her door and then in her room, comforting her the best he could and with more effort than he would if it was someone else.

After Raven kicked Damian out over what hopefully was the last break-up of Garfield and Raven, Damian went out of his way to avoid Raven in the most casual and indifferent way possible. It almost bordered normalcy and yet it was clear that something had changed.

"Damian." A familiar voice called out to him, but he did not hear it as he was focused on his punches.

"Damian." He paused and Damian steadied his sandbag and turned to look behind him with furrowed brows.

"Raven." He greeted simply and was about to continue punching the sandbag again. But she called out to him again and he sighed.

"What is it?" He asked indifferently and with a sharp edge, his hands on the sandbag, keeping up the appearance of steading it.

"I'd like to apologize." He raised an eyebrow, shook his head and mock punched the sandbag and it swung a bit.

"You don't have to—" He steadied the sandbag. "I should be the one apologizing." His eyes do not look at her though.

"I suppose." She said quietly after what felt like a minute had passed in silence with no apology from Damian. "But you made a good point." He stiffly nodded, the apology he has been meaning to say was at the tip of his tongue. Another minute passed in silence.

"I know you're looking out for the team. Thank You." She said quietly, waiting for Damian to respond but he just nodded again and another minute of silence.

"I—I think I will take your advice—" Advice. She had called it advice; Damian's eyes looked up at her. He was surprised to see her violet eyes look at him intently with patience. "I—I should move on—close that part of my life. Start a new book." Damian's right eye twitched in surprise. The apology he had been meaning to say still stuck in his mouth.

She smiled at him and she nodded and then did a 180 turn on her heel.

"I'm sorry." He finally said but it was only a whisper. His disappointment and anger in his own inability to apologize properly made him clench his right knuckles against the sandbag, as his eyes followed her back. For a moment he thought she froze on the spot, but she continued to walk away.

'No. She had heard. But she did not give me a hard time over it.' Damian thought as a faint rueful smile found itself on his lips.

She deserved so much better. He sighed aloud as he looked up at the cieling.

~.~.~.~.~

'Why was I back in this situation again? Had she not said that it was over for real then? I guess today is the day it finally became a lie.' Damian stood inside of Raven's bedroom as if he had seen a ghost.

Last time he was here—she was twenty-one. Now he is the twenty-one-year-old and she is twenty-three. Two years had passed since the last time he was in this situation—in her room—watching her cry herself raw on her bed.

And yet Damian knew—it has to be about him again.

Garfield.

His right eye twitched at the thought. An empty smile on his lips as he looked at Raven sob.

'Didn't you say it was over—so what is this.' The words never came out of Damian's lips, but it almost had but she felt his intentions. And if Damian had known that his thought had been conveyed to her through his emotions—then maybe he'd think: for the first time she finally noticed my feelings.

Raven noticed that Damian had entered her room—how could she not with what he was emitting. It has been so long since the two were in this situation. It had been two years to be exact. And she felt guilty—because the last time he had comforted her in here—she said her and Garfield were really done.

And here she is—the proof of a lie.

"I—" Raven tried to muffle her cries but failed. "Him and I—we hooked up." And to Damian those words were crushing but not as crushing as what the word 'hooked up' entailed. Was she—she couldn't be— "And so we secretly dated after that." Damian couldn't help but sigh when he heard her say that.

It wasn't as bad as the thought of Raven being pregnant. He thought that he must be an awful person for thinking such a thing.

"But then… does that mean—" Damian looked at Raven in confusion, piecing something together in his head. How long has she been lying?

"For almost a year." She softly sobbed as she wiped a tear away. Damian felt like he had been punched. A year. He had been trying to make her happy for two—but that one year—that half time he placed in effort, even when it was masked mostly as group activities—was happiness that Damian was not able to give her—but Garfield had.

And Damian simply saw the truth of the matter, the recent year when Raven seemed even more happier than the last—it was not because of him. He should have known. No—he must have noticed—Ah. That is right. He had seen the signs but chose to ignore it.

"Isn't he with that girl named Terra?" Damian asked softly, quite blindsided by the truth. Raven nodded in response and he felt that same old anger he had not felt since that time two years ago—in this room, seeing her nod to his question- return to the surface. A symbol of agreement resulted in an anger that had been buried which was now reignited.

"But they had taken a break when Garfield and I got back together." She quickly added before he could say something and oddly enough that subsided a bit of Damian's anger. "It was just a hookup, no attachment. He was upset and hurt and I was lonely—and we knew each other well." Raven had stopped crying at this point and was picking on her fingertips looking for hangnails with furrowed brows.

She sighed as she looked up at her ceiling as she let her silent tears fall, "It wasn't supposed to mean anything—"

"But the love you had for him was reignited, right?" Damian couldn't help but cut her off with a bite in his tone. And he chuckled—it was empty and shallow. "So, what is it this time? Am I supposed to be surprised you broke up again? Well this isn't the first break up you two had—and last time surely wasn't the last!" A hollow laugh came from Damian as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"God, how stupid!" Damian suddenly yelled and Raven stood up to glare at him.

"How can you call me stupid! I loved him whole-heartedly for seven years and I continued to love him for two more—you don't forget that. Even when it's muddled—it's a fact that I have loved him for so long and invested so much into him—into me—for him and me- us. And even when we broke up—I will always love him. He will always have a special place in my heart." Raven paused to calm herself, the words she was spilling felt as thought she was stabbing herself too. "Even when he broke up with me now—because he realized he loves Terra." She bit her lip and Damian looked at her like she was the stupidest person on earth.

Damian suddenly laughed, it was a rather wholehearted laughter and yet it held such muted grief.

"You think I called you stupid?" He looked at her in the eyes, and something about his stare hinted to a degree of insanity. "You actually think I called you stupid?" He shook his head with a faint smile on his lips as he glanced at the space beside her. "I'm the one who's stupid!" Raven took a step back in confusion as she studied Damian with a knot in her chest—she thought that Damian looked a little mad.

"I like you! For the longest time, I have liked you!" Raven looked at him as if he had grown an extra head. "I might even actually love you—but what do I know—after all—you said it yourself: I don't know what that is like!" Raven looked at him thinking when had she said that, and she realized it must have been the last time they were in this room together when he was comforting her. She had opened her lips to tell her that: that was not what she had meant, but Damian continued on.

"But you never noticed my feelings for you! I was just a fly in comparison to Garfield. Maybe if I wasn't three years younger than you—then maybe you might take me seriously! Or maybe if I had known you first than Garfield—then maybe you would actually look my way!" Damian's stare had started to become a hateful glare. "You know when you two broke up for reals-" He said mockingly. "I thought that maybe—maybe—this was it. This was my chance to get you to notice that I have liked you for the longest time. Maybe this was the moment you would let Garfield go and let someone else show you—just how much you deserved to be treated. How special you are to that one person—how important you are to at least one person." Damian's angry glare softens into resignation.

"It didn't have to be me. It could be anyone." He paused as he pressed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut for a second and he looked at her again. "That is fine. I don't think I deserve that kind of special someone to dote on—and love me." He paused again, but Raven didn't know what to say as he looked down on the floor. "But I wanted you—" He looked back at her again with mournful eyes. "I wanted at least for you, to be happy. I wanted to know that all the years you spent crying over some stupid guy over a stupid little thing because of a stupid relationship—is happy. I wanted that for you." He pressed his lips together as he shook his head and evaded her shock eyes.

And then the silence allowed the two to think of what had just happened. It gave Damian the time to really process what was happening—what he had said and he was shocked at what he had done.

No.

He had just confessed to her.

No.

He looked up at her with a shocked expression, his eyes so wide in realization. He had said aloud the thoughts that have been plaguing him for years, the glimpse of how his thought process has changed as Raven's relationship with Garfield became a bane of his existence—of what he thought was also her's and Garfield's.

Damian's face paled, wishing he could take back what he had just said and done. The secrets and frustration he had held in was finally said. And it sat between them rather heavily.

"I—" They had both spoken at the same time and a pause followed. Damian stared at Raven, unsure who had spoken—was it her or him. Before anything else could be said and done, Damian stormed off with his fist clenched and with long strides close to a dash.

Damian had been punching the sandbag aggressively for almost two hours now following his confession. He was embarrassed and frustrated. And thinking of so many ways to take back what he had said and done. Prior to those thoughts, he had evaluated how he could have handled the situation better.

Damian gave the sandbag a very powerful right punch that the poor weakened sandbag gave in to the hit. His fist was inside the sandbag and as he was about to pull his fist out, the sand spilling out from the hole, he heard Raven calling his name. He turned to his left to look at her with furrowed brows, and her eyes shifted from him and the sand pouring out from the sandbag, her expression worried.

Raven had been calling out to Damian a few times already before he had noticed her. If Damian knew he would be greatly disappointed with himself.

"Damian…" She started at Damian's fist that was still half inside the sandbag.

"Look—forget what I had said. I said it to distract you. I did it as my obligation as the team leader." He said coldly as he fully retracted his fist from the sandbag, more sand poured out from his action. He looked away from her as he checked his fists for damage. He was surprised to see that he had bruised and had cuts on his hands. His right hand had the most damage.

"No." Raven said as she took a step forward, he turned his head at her with a glare. Raven does not back down. "We need to talk about this."

Damian was contemplating how to bolt from this situation and Raven could tell his intentions. So, before Damian could act about his thoughts, she grabbed his fists and he flinched.

"Seriously, we can't have our leader's fists injured." She said as she checked his injuries up close, turning his fists in her hands, taking her time. He was quiet but his jaw was locked and his brows so closely knit to each other.

"I—" Raven looked up at him, straight into his eyes and Damian was startled as his eyes met hers. "I had noticed your feelings before." She softly confessed and Damian's fists clenched, before he could yank his hands away from hers- Raven firmly held his hands in hers. "I had noticed." Her expression seemed to have glazed over and she sighed aloud and dispelled her thoughts.

"I had noticed. But it became overlooked as I was more focused on—other things—" And for a moment her eyes glazed over again. "On Gar." A sad smile on her lips.

"His love overshadowed your little crush on me. I—focused on him and me so much that anything else was just white noise. I forgot that you had a crush—it was just an afterthought that was forgotten." To Raven, Damian looked as though he wanted to yank his hands off of hers and storm off, but with clenched jaws he fought not to. "And I am truly sorry." She said as she healed his hands.

Raven licked her lips and pressed it together but her eyes looking at the ground, "And—yes—our age had been a factor – why I didn't take you seriously. There was one time that I considered the possibility of dating you. And our age gap-" Raven made a displeased face. "bothered me. And three years, I know it isn't much," She glanced at Damian. "But it's undeniable that at some point I was of legal age and you weren't. And that—that unsettled me. But mostly—it's because of my love for Garfield- that made me always overlook your crush. And—I really am sorry."

Raven was looking at Damian with wavering eyes, she felt guilty, but she was also very sincere on her apology.

'This,' She thought. 'is the final push I needed to really move on from Gar.' As she lets go of Damian's hands.

"I hope, everything said and done today—doesn't affect our relationship—in fact I hope it clarified the things between us." Raven said dispelling the guilt she had. "You are a great leader Damian, you always think of everyone, and I guess that is why you never said or did anything that could be permanently damaging to the team."

With that Damian buried the thoughts that he was having, like did he have a chance to be with her now? No—Raven is right—he couldn't risk the team dynamic. But he also came to love her a little bit more. She seemed to always see something more in him, things he could never see in himself.

'It's probably why you never attempted to confess to me—to not add to the mess that was Garfield and me.' Raven had mulled over in silence with a smile that was neither sad nor happy. Which made Damian curious if it was a smile out of happiness or sadness because then he would know the meaning behind her smile.

~.~.~.~.~

Three months after Damian's sudden confession, Raven took the initiative to go to Damian who was in his bedroom.

It was rather late at night but she had made a decision already and wanted to tell Damian at that very moment. The room was rather dark but they were both used to it, their eyes adjusted well or maybe even better at the dark.

After Damian's confession, their relationship was rather strained- how could it not be with such a revelation? But the two worked hard to flatten out the strain and finally they were in a position that was back to normal but never quite the same. But it was perfect—in the oddest way—it was perfect and they were content.

"Damian, I know it's late…" Raven rubbed her left elbow with her right hand. "But with everything that has happened these past few months—I know I have to tell you this now."

Hearing this Damian was worried. "Please Raven, continue." He said as he pats the space beside him, on his bed. But she shook her head in rejection and she avoided his gaze. He understood that the words she was going to say were difficult on her part, and he waited patiently. He quietly observed her as she chewed on her lips and finally sighed.

"I'm planning to leave." The oxygen in Damian's room felt like it wasn't enough for him to breath. And Raven instantly became worried seeing him in a mix of shock and fear. She approached him cautiously, her hand extended towards him. Raven was two steps away from Damian when he suddenly shot up to his feet and she froze as she studied him.

Damian was ashen, his jaw clenched and his fists flexing, but his eyes that were on her—seemed to go through her and in his green eyes she saw him shredding his initial reaction into oblivion. He closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath and when he exhaled, that was when Raven found herself unfrozen and had touched Damian's arm. She looked up at him, a fear in the base of her throat that felt like it was going to burst, but he only glanced at her in silent confusion.

"I don't plan to leave now—I was just making you aware that I will—maybe in a few months." She blurted out, in order to speak before Damian could. "I think it's for the best—it's still kind of hard to see Garfield. Especially now—no maybe particularly now—because I really want to move on from him."

"He will always affect you." Damian whispered with the smallest hint of resignation. And before Raven could acknowledge it, he added, "It can't be helped, our team and Young Justice cross paths now and then—and recently it seems to be more frequent." His tone was that of a firm leader that Raven completely forgot his previous remark.

"Yes, that is exactly it." She softly agreed. In the silence that followed she realized that she was still resting her palm on Damian's arm, she pulled away quickly and looked away from his general direction.

"I'm not planning to leave anytime soon—so you really don't have to worry about my replacement yet." She said jokingly but he only quietly nodded as he observed her.

Not even a week after Raven's revelation of leaving due to the difficulty of seeing Garfield, the three found themselves in a room in the Titan Tower. Damian was standing in front of Garfield while Raven stood by Damian's left side with her arms crossed over her chest. A rather strained triangle was formed between the three.

"We need your help on this Damian, I'm here to try and convince you." Garfield said as Damian took notes on Raven from the corner of his eyes. She looked as neutral as she could, but he knew that she must be having difficulties seeing him so soon— with Garfield acting as though him and her were not a thing a few months ago.

"I don't think I need convincing, Garfield. If it's an order from the league I cannot say no to it." Damian simply responded.

"Well, that is true, but I guess I am here for formality's sake." He replied but his eyes glanced at Raven, who had caught his eyes and so did Damian.

"Raven is my right hand, and she has been in the team the longest. We will discuss how we can best assist and inform our team." Damian firmly decided, Raven nodded her head, arms still crossed.

"Oh—well—" Garfield glanced at Raven then Damian, "I thought maybe I could—"

"We need to discuss how best to help as soon and as quickly as possible." Damian cuts in, and Raven nodded again silently. Garfield at this point is blatantly looking at Raven. He had intended to try and talk to her, but it seemed that she did not want to.

"I—" Garfield had begun to say.

"We will contact you Gar." Raven quietly said before Garfield could say anything else.

Maybe she did want to talk to him, it's just that they were more focused on the mission and intel he had just provided. Garfield thought as he nodded absent-mindedly.

Damian turned to leave and Raven followed before the conversation between the three could be dragged out by Garfield.

Damian walked quickly to his room and Raven followed absent-mindedly. When they arrived in Damian's room, Raven just stood in the center blankly. Damian cleared his throat.

"I know this isn't the best place to bring you in—" She heard him say and she glanced at her surroundings, realizing where she was. Damian had led her to his bedroom. "But you don't have to participate if you don't want to." Raven simply shook her head.

"No. I am a part of this team; I am just as responsible as you are Damian." And he knew her well enough to know that Raven had made up her mind, and that she will not change her mind. If only he had known then, what would happen in the mission- because he had allowed her to go, then maybe things would be different for him and her.

"I know you wanted to leave because of Garfield—and this happens—if you ever want to leave this mission half-way, I totally understand." Raven looked at him with a gentle gaze, glad for Damian's thoughtfulness. But this was work, she should be able to do this mission. And maybe—this should be the last. And she nodded as she responded to his offer, little did Damian know that Raven was thinking of having this as her last and final mission as a Titan.

A good way to end a bad relationship she supposed—working one last time with an ex she was trying to avoid.

"I need to call in for a team meeting." Damian sighed while shaking his head and putting a hand on his forehead. And she smiled faintly at him, but her mind steered back to a green skinned boy, she still knew she loved.

~.~.~.~.~

Damian did not expect things to turn out like this. They were pushed in a corner, the creature facing his direction trying to spot anyone on his side. Tim was somewhere behind the creature tending to a team member who had fallen. Damian was unsure if Tim was tending a Titan or a member of the Young Justice team from his hiding place behind a car.

Terra attacked the albino twenty-foot creature. And Raven who was on the far side of Damian's general left area, heard Terra's battle cry. The next thing Raven knew was a knot in her heart as she heard Garfield who was in vulture form, screaming Terra's name.

Raven instantly stood up from her hiding place and ran to the center still very far from Damian. Raven saw Terra's body flung towards her general direction and Raven catched her by putting a shield around Terra which slowed and protected her from a dangerous fall. But the act left Raven extremely vulnerable.

Garfield had landed near Damian and shifted back into human form. Raven's eye caught the black eyes of the creature—if you can call them eyes. And she realized what it was about to do, she placed a force field around herself quickly as she reprimanded herself for her stupid move of going out of her hiding place to help Terra out. She knew completely that her decision was impaired due to Garfield screaming Terra's name with such fear. She hated herself for being affected by it.

She hated that she still places him in high regard.

Suddenly—it was quiet. Raven's face twisted into confusion. The shield around her was up, so why did she feel the blood drain from her? She felt rather weak. She heard Garfield screaming her name—she couldn't help but smile. Thinking that Garfield could still scream her name the way he did when he screamed Terra's—was oddly comforting. She turned to look at her left where Damian and Garfield were, confused as she could hear another male call her name.

Raven's eyes landed on Damian's face, a contortion of shock and fear and maybe five other more emotions that she could not quite place. He was screaming her name, looking as though at any moment now, he would run to her. And she was even more confused. She turned back to look at the creature, but with her gaze that was casted down, she noticed what had happened.

Yes, her shield was up. But there was a black spike that passed through her shield. No—it wasn't that it passed through, it seemed that her shield allowed it to—or to be exact her shield couldn't close onto the black spike. She followed where the spike continued on after passing her shield, and she was in a state of serenity to see that it hit her- just below her sternum.

The mix of screams from Damian and Garfield was something she tried to focus her mind on.

Her shield dissipated as she found herself coughing blood, and the black single spike on her chest retracted. She stared at the creature blankly as the spike entered its palm. Raven slowly dropped to her knees; her brows furrowed. She could not think straight.

They were still screaming her name. She turned her head, initially planning to look at Garfield, finding it so very odd to hear him call out her name the way he was. She never knew that he would be worried about him like that after everything they had been through. But when she turned her head to the left, as her body tilted back—it was Damian who her eyes laid on.

And her eyes widened as she realized the truth. She could only hear Damian's screaming now—but she was aware that Garfield was screaming her name too because he was in clear view from where she now laid. But her eyes focused on Damian.

For the first time she had seen and felt Damian's fear, something she was certain he couldn't express prior to this moment in time. She could just feel him telling her not to give in, but her eyes were droopy. She felt tired.

And for the first time she truly felt his feelings for her. The rawness—the intensity. How could she have missed it?

Raven tried to extend her hand to Damian, feeling rather guilty—and hoping she was at least able to convey her apology though the act. But it was so very difficult to keep her eyes open.

'I should have known.' Raven thought as she tried to keep herself conscious. 'I shouldn't have taken you for granted. I should have given you the chance—I should have taken the chance sooner to move on from a relationship that did me no good.' Raven thought she saw Damian running towards her—but maybe it was just an illusion.

'If there is some other life—I wish to give you a chance. I wish to be happy with you.' She swore to herself.

And her eyes fluttered shut. Raven was unsure if she indeed felt her body being lifted up from the ground. Damian held her gently in his arms as he glared at the creature's back who was currently distracted by Tim on the other side.

'I should have seen and felt you. I am a pathetic empath for missing such an important thing. It was clearly so obvious—and clearly in front of me. You do love me Damian, I wish I could tell you that. You had loved me for the longest time—and I did not notice.

It's pure and true—it is still love; The love I have been wanting—I'm glad I got it from you.' Raven silently confessed to herself, the words she wished he could hear, she wished that she could have confessed it to him.

~.~.~.~.~.

This is a 3-part one shot.

Finale: Reciprocate III: The After

Tumblr: Eleanore_Delphinium

A03: Eleanore_Delphinium

FF: karencow

#damirae #Damian Wayne #raven #Damian al Ghul #damian x raven #au #unrequited #teen titans #justice league #ANTI bbrae #angsts #death #fanfiction #nine years of pining

35 notes · View notes

zeppelin-and-unicorns · 3 years

Note

"Eric and Donna are great, but they have very different personalities and very different opinions on stuff". But, isn't that literally the exact same thing with Jackie and Hyde? Isn't that half of their appeal? The fact that they almost never see eye-to-eye yet they form a connection and learn from each other? Why would that be a downside for Eric and Donna?

I think that I used the wrong wording in that previous ask, and I’m sorry, because yeah, Jackie and Hyde are seemingly opposites, she’s the bitchy cheerleader, he’s the city’s burnout, but once you start to analyze their characters and their history, you realize that they just fit together.

They’re not the complete opposites we all thought they were at the beginning of the show, I mean, while they have completely different aesthetics and obvious differences in personalities, they do have a few things in common, the most evident one being their family issues. The show never gave us a lot of details about it, because it was a sitcom, and well… most of the stuff Jackie and Hyde went through with their respective families were not funny at all, but they have similar pasts and they were the only ones from the entire gang who knew what being abandoned felt like.

They had similar traumas with their respective parents, but they have different responses to it. Hyde, in fear of being abandoned again, tends to push people away before they could push him away (as said by the wise Kitty Forman), and Jackie does the complete opposite. She smothers people in fear that if she doesn’t give them enough attention, they’ll leave her.

According to Jackie, that’s why they’re such a good couple, and I have to agree with her. Hyde needs someone who’ll force him to deal with his feelings and that won’t let him back off of some situations that might make him uncomfortable at first, but will be good for him in the long run, he needs someone who’ll inspire him to be better, to do better, and that’s Jackie. Jackie needs someone who’ll help her be more grounded and soothe her insecurities at the same time, someone who’ll encourage her to be more independent, someone who’ll inspire her to be the best version of herself, and that’s Hyde. They both motivate each other to be the best version of themselves, and in a certain way, they both taught each other how to love.

Jackie and Hyde are happier and better people when they’re with each other, unlike Eric and Donna.

I believe that Eric and Donna are just… okay. I mean, their relationship is just so different from Jackie and Hyde’s, it’s almost as if they never got past the whole “high school love” phase, y’know? They used to learn some things with each other, but that stopped completely at some point. I don’t think they add something to each other’s lives, and I think they both can do better.

I think that what makes me think that way is the fact that Eric and Donna have completely different opinions on topics that I consider to be very important in a relationship, and they both refuse to cave and learn from each other, so they just keep on bickering for what seems like forever.

For example, Eric has some rather sexist ideals, like thinking that the man has to be the provider, that the woman's job is to pamper him and have babies, while the man works. Ideals that Donna said multiple times she would not put up with (but she kind of ends up doing it anyway later on the show, which makes no sense to me, but well, the writers are stupid and they threw Donna’s character development in the trash).

Eric and Donna's breakup on season 3 was sad, really, it broke my heart, but it was actually very in-character, and when we stop to analyze it, we could see it coming from a mile away. Eric kept getting more insecure about their relationship, and as a consequence of that, he kept tightening his grip on Donna, trying to control her and limit her so he wouldn't feel threatened by her independence. For example, the promise ring, in my opinion, was Eric trying to reassure himself that Donna would not leave him, that by accepting his ring, she wouldn't stand up for herself as much as she does, that they would be okay, that they’d get married one day and have kids, just like he always dreamt of.

Donna had a point in not accepting it, and Eric should’ve listened to her.

Jackie and Hyde had a similar problem in later seasons, where Jackie was pressuring Hyde for marriage and he was starting to feel pressured, but I believe that this problem was solved on s6ep18 “Do You Think It’s Alright”, after he saw her in that wedding dress.

I believe that after that episode, Jackie and Hyde had an off-camera conversation about their future, because Jackie quit it with the marriage talk, and their relationship was okay again after that episode (until the writers ruined it on s7).

Jackie and Hyde often talked about their problems and worked through them as a couple, they both communicated and learned how to compromise to make each other happy (ex: s5ep10 “The Crunge”; s5ep11 “The Girl I Love”; s5ep12 “Misty Mountain Hop”; s5ep14 “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You”; and honestly many, many more).

Jackie, Hyde, Donna, and Eric are all very stubborn characters, the difference is: Jackie and Hyde know how to compromise and make sacrifices for the sake of their relationship, while Eric and Donna don’t. They just swipe most of their problems under the rug and pretend like they never happened, when they do talk, their talks are always “Eric, you’re stupid”, and Eric agrees and promises he won’t screw up again, and then he proceeds to screw up again in the next episode, and it’s an endless cycle.

Eric and Donna are not a bad pairing, not at all, I really liked them together, especially in the earlier seasons. But the writers did them dirty (just like they did J/H dirty on many occasions). Most of Eric and Donna’s problems could’ve been solved with proper communication, but they would both need to make compromises in order to make their relationship work, after all, they are still very opinionated people with completely opposite opinions on topics that are very important in a relationship.

So I guess the correct wording would be: Jackie and Hyde are compatible, and Donna and Eric are not. At least that’s what I think.

And yeah, that's my opinion and my interpretation of their relationships. It’s okay if you don’t agree with me, most people don’t.

God, I ended up writing a whole ass essay, sorry about that, really! But I hope you understood what I meant, I’m not a very didactic person and I feel the need to overexplain things too much, which ends up making things even more confusing, and… I’ll shut up now, lol.

#ask #eric x donna #jackie x hyde #donna pinciotti #eric forman #jackie burkhart #steven hyde

8 notes · View notes

spicyspencerreid · 4 years

Text

Just Friends|Part 5

A Timothée Chalamet Imagine: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

THIS TOOK ME SO LONG FOR NO REASON. Okay well lots of reasons. Distance learning is destroying me. Anyway I hope you enjoy!!!!

Female!Reader, Dancer/Actress!Reader, CoStar!Reader, FrenchSpeaking!Reader// 4,656 Words

Summary of part one, two, three, and four// Reader and Timothée are best friends. They are going to be costars on a new movie where Y/n plays a dancer and has a small, but still important, role, and Timothée’s a lead. There’s a storm and Y/n’s hotel is having issues, so she has to stay in Timothée’s apartment. She stays with him really realizes she likes him, then he starts dating Lily, asks to go out to dinner so everyone can meet her. Then they break up, boom Timothée and Y/n kiss. Now Y/n has been asked to go on Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts with James Corden, but their relationship is still secret.

Warnings// Grammar/spelling and lack of proofreading. FLUFFFFFFF!!!

Key: French writing (english translation), Y/n/n-Your nickname, Y/f/n-Your first name, Y/l/n-Your last name

(Added July 2020) Note: this whole series was written before Ansel Elgort’s allegations arose, and honestly, in the most disrespectful way possible: I hope he rots in hell. I ALWAYS stand with the victim, and if that’s going to be a problem, find another series to read. If the mention of his name is triggering to you, PLEASE do not read. If you or anyone you know has been sexually assaulted or abused, do not be afraid to speak up, but if that’s not the route you personally want to take: you can call 1-800-656-4673, available 24 hours every day and 100% confidential.

Not my gif (but isn’t it absolutely adorable): enjoy!!!!

It was 2:00 AM and you were pacing around the kitchen, but what you were really doing, was overreacting. And while you were overreacting, you definitely weren’t being irrational. This was a problem. You’d just gotten off the phone with Kelsey, you’re publicist who was in Rome with your assistant, Kelly, and she was beyond happy to inform you she’d already talked to Zendaya’s publicist and the both of you would be joining James Corden next week on his show. This would be completely fine if it was just a normal interview, you’d done many TV interviews, but no, Kelsey didn’t just sign you up for a normal interview, she signed you up for spill your guts or fill your guts.

It’d been almost a week and a half since Timothée had pushed you up against a wall and finally did what the both of you had been aching for almost a full year. You were going to tell Kelsey, not like you had any choice anyway: you guys were practically sisters, except it was also her job to know everything happening in your life.

Why you hadn’t told her about it though, that was for two reasons. One being, you didn’t know how combined with the fact that she was in Rome and there was a six hour time difference. Not to mention you were barely able to tell Z and Ansel, who probably would’ve been able to figure out just by looking at you. The other reason being that you were just stubborn. You were annoyed everyone was right, especially Kelsey. You would never forget it if you picked up the phone, dialed her number, and spoke, “Oh hey Kels, yeah that interview you signed me up for, can’t do that. Why you ask? Well, it turns out you, my mom, all of my friends, our fans, and the whole word was very, very right. Timmy and I? Yeah, we sucked face the other day. You and I both know I have the world’s weakest stomach, so if I get forced to choose between downing a shot of blended salmon or answering a question about Timothée, we’re going to need to figure out how we wanna address everything. Because while I would hate to lie on national television, I would rather perjure myself in front of the supreme court than bite into an animal dick.” As for you and Timothée, it had only been ten days, five of which you spent together. To be completely honest, you were absolutely terrified the night after he kissed you.

“YOU WHAT?” You backed your phone away from your ear as Zendaya screamed into it from the other line, “I’m coming over.” She hung up before you could say anything else. About ten minutes later your door opened. You were laying face up on your hardwood floor, staring at the ceiling, contemplating your existence. Ansel laid down on the right side of you, Z taking your left.

“So...where is he,” Ansel asked, Z. They were both giddy, and you were laying there like an idiot, unable to get the smile off of your face.

“He has a photoshoot,” you sighed out, “he’s very pretty, needs to be photographed for the world to see.”

“So what happens now?” Z asked the question that a voice in the back in your head had been screaming as she poked into your side; you instantly started laughing at the poke in your weak spot. That was your one worry, what did happen now? The kiss was quick, but you both knew it meant something, and you were beyond happy, but that didn’t stop your worrying. Worrying about the same reason that stopped you from making a move earlier. You wish you didn’t worry, but you did, the public had been shipping you guys together almost since before you met, but what about your friendship? It seemed easy, it really did, you were already practically dating, just without the kissing, the sex, and the formal dates or announcement, but what was going to happen when things got complicated?

Soon, your worries started to simmer down. The next day, you and Timothée went out to breakfast, as usual, trying to keep to your hands to yourselves as much as possible. Lily already released a short twitter statement, saying that the relationship just didn’t work out, but swearing that they were both on great terms and planning to stay in touch throughout their careers. She said she’d be disgusted by any comments coming after how fast or slow her and Timothée moved on from their relationship, considering the fact they weren’t even officially in a relationship or anything, and considering all the hate she’d received while being involved with him. You’d called her shortly after, checking up to make sure she was alright, already feeling pretty guilty even though you knew their breakup technically wasn’t your fault. She’d told you she was alright, excited to start her new modeling campaign, even telling you not to tell anyone but she was starting a clothing line. She also lightly hinted towards you and Timothée, acknowledging the way he looked at you, her little way of giving you both her blessing. A couple had speculated this was your doing, earning you some lovely little DMs on Instagram calling you a home-wrecker. You and Timmy talked, for a while, and you were just happy it wasn’t awkward. After that you walked for a little bit, deciding you would take your day off as a shopping day. He kept his arm on your back as he usually did when you walked around the streets of New York, even though all you wanted to do was hold his hand. You knew what you both wanted. It was a tiny jump, barely existent, the jump from friends to more for you guys. It was obvious how close you were, and dating wouldn't change much, but really all you wanted was one thing. Time. Not away from Timothée, or your friends, or any of that, but just time to be happy together before you guys told the public. A week and three days was simply not enough time.

You had to have only been pacing for a couple of minutes when Timothée made his way over to you. You went over to his apartment a little bit after lunch. You were beyond tired after a physically and mentally draining Giselle practice, so the first thing you did was shower and put on the comfiest clothes of his you could find. He turned on a movie, and you fell asleep super fast, snuggled in his arms under a pile of blankets on his couch. But of course, you were both awoken by your phone ringing, and with a groggy voice, you excused yourself into the kitchen to answer Kelsey’s call.

Timothée’s hands scared you, causing you to shiver at his cold touch. He placed them on your shoulders, stoping your pacing, “What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. I’m just thinking,” you put on your best fake smile, but your best wasn’t good enough.

“You’re pacing in circles. When you’re in deep thought, you pace in straight lines, but when something’s bothering you, you pace in circles,” he lightly rubbed your tense shoulders, calming you down, before lightly kissing your lower neck. You sighed, pissed off he knew you as well as he did.

“Z and I have to go on James Corden,” he backed away from you, and his face burst into a bright smile. He instantly knew what was going on.

“Kelsey? Elle ne le ferait pas...(she wouldn’t...)” he was full-on laughing at this point.

“Oh, she did,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to hide a laugh.

“Spill your guts or fill your guts? There’s no fucking way...” if anyone knew how weak your stomach was, it was Timothée. About three weeks after meeting him, you, Z, Ansel, and he all had drinks at Ansel’s apartment. You usually didn’t drink more than one glass, because of your weak stomach, but Z had just been nominated for an award. So, you had three, maybe four, and then threw up all over Timmy’s shoes. You were mortified, the event has happened in the early stages of your friendship, where you still had that little celebrity crush, but he just laughed really, really hard.

“Stop, I already feel nauseated just thinking about it. What am I supposed to say about us?”

“You don’t even know if they’re gonna ask...”

“We both know something about you is going to be asked.”

“You’re right, but people want us to date, and Lily’s in Italy right now, I’m almost positive she has an Italian boyfriend there, so we don’t have anything to worry about,” he wrapped his arm around your waist, and your head found its way to his chest. You both stayed there for a while, thinking before he reached in your back pocket for your phone, he opened the phone app and handed it to you.

“I just...je voulais du temps,” (I wanted time).

“Moi aussi,” (Me too) he sighed, “here, you should call Kelsey back,” you backed away to meet his eyes, sighing as you typed in her number in from memory. He didn’t move from his position, keeping his arms around your waist and hands resting on your exposed back.

“Hey Kels,” you were hesitating, and she could tell.

“Y/n...what did you do?”

“Um, am I on speaker?” It wouldn’t have been the first time

“Kelly’s with me, what’s going on?” Kelly was gonna love this.

“Timothée and I...um,” dead silence on the other side of the phone, you knew she knew where you were going with this, she just wanted to here you struggle to spit it out, “we’re...together,” you heard a little yelp come from Kelly, she might be your assistant, but just like Kelsey, she’s only a year apart in age difference, which means she was also like another friend to you.

“Oh my- Y/n?! How long?” Kelsey must’ve been pacing now, you could hear the sound of her heels click-clacking back and forth.

“Only a little over a week, I swear, I was waiting to tell you, and I thought I had time, but then that interview, and...yeah,” the sound of her heels stopped, and you heard her trying to stifle a laugh, “Okay, let’s hear it,”

“Y/n Chalamet, Y/f/n Y/m/n Chalamet,” Kelsey could barely get it out, and you could hear Kelly’s wheezing laughter in the background.

“Kelsey!” You looked up to see Timothée smiling, you reached up to cover his mouth with your hand.

“No, no wait, she’s definitely a hyphen kinda girl,” Kelly grabbed the phone out of Kelsey’s hand and spoke, you were blushing hard now, “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n-Chalamet, I like the way that sounds,”

“That’s enough-” your voice was interrupted by Timothée’s laugh, your hand wasn’t enough to stop him. You were never gonna hear the end of this.

“Oh my god is he there?” Kelsey yelled into the phone. You removed your hand from his mouth.

“Hey Kelsey,” you glared at Timothée, hating how he was just egging them on.

“He’s in your apartment?!” Oh god. This is probably the best day of Kelsey’s life.

“Um no, I’m in his apartment,” not like that was any better.

“Is he...naked?” Kelly whispered through a giggle, earning another laugh from Timothée.

“No, oh my god. Focus, we have a real issue here.” You spoke through laugher.

“Okay, okay, we’re flying in tomorrow. Once we’re all settled and well-rested we’ll come over and draft a statement or something, and we’ll do some interview prep.”

“Great, I’ll see you then, bye,” a weight had been lifted off of your shoulder.

“Bye, oh yeah and...bye Timothée,” you hung up as fast as you possibly could.

“What are we gonna say? The media will eat this up, twist it, and then spit it back out, and we’ve only had like a week to ourselves, and everyone’s gonna think you and Lily broke up because of me, no matter what Lily says, she can’t stop that response, and-” you were rambling again.

“Y/n/n, it’s gonna be fine, I swear. We’re gonna figure out what to say if anything gets leaked. If anyone can handle this, it’s you and Kelsey.” He lifted you up by your waist and spun you around, making you laugh as he spoke, “Everyone thinks we’re dating anyway, so we’ll just explain that we were in denial, which we definitely were by the way, and then it’ll be fine, we’ll be happy, and the whole world will be sunshine and rainbows.” He was laughing with you now, as he continued to spin you in his arms.

“Timothée.” you giggled and he put you back down, “Je suis serieux.” (I’m serious.)

“Je sais, je sais,” (I know, I know) his smile faded and he stared at you for a second before pulling you in for a hug and muttering in your ear, “mais tu es fou si tu pense que j'attends une autre année pour être avec tu,” (but you’re crazy if you think I’m waiting another year to be with you) You smiled and playfully rolled your eyes at his corniness, knowing the Y/n from a year ago would be going crazy if she saw this.

“Can you still walk me home?” Growing up in the city still didn’t change the fact that walking home alone at 2:00AM would be terrifying.

“Mhmm,” he snuggled his head into your neck, “do you have rehearsal tomorrow?”

“Nope,” you shook your head, trying to ignore the fact that he completely dodged your question, “les entraînements de fin de semaine sont annulés pour ce mois.” (weekend practices are cancelled for this month.)

“Then...you can stay here tonight and I’ll walk you home in the morning,” he presented the idea with a few nerves in his voice, you’d spent the night at his place before, but never without Z or Ansel, and definitely not in his bed.

“Okay.”

“Vraiment?” (Really?) You were quick to answer, maybe too quick. He almost thought you were joking for a second.

“What?”

“Well if I knew it’d be that easy to get you into bed I would’ve done it a long time ago,” you laughed and slapped his arm, pretending to be angry, “oh that’s how it’s gonna be?” He lifted you up and ran into his room, laughing as he playfully slammed you into his very comfortable bed. He climbed over you, pinning you down by the shoulders and attacking you with his lips, leaving wet kisses all over your face. One he finished his kiss assault on your face, his lips met yours for a moment, stopping your giggling at it source.

“If you snore, I’ll suffocate you with a pillow,” you pulled away for a second, threatening him against his lips.

“Considering you’re a dancer, I thought you mind find a more creative way to take me out.”

“Very funny,” you said it sarcastically, kissing him once again. You both naturally pulled away, fatigue kicking into your system. You fell asleep with your head against his bare chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. When you woke up Timothée walked you back to your apartment. A day passed and Kelsey called you once again, saying she and Kelly were coming over to your apartment for interview prep. You decided not to release a statement or anything, which was not exactly what you wanted. You weren’t exactly the most go with the flow kind of person, you wanted a plan, and you didn’t exactly get one. To be fair, there wasn’t exactly a way for you to just say “no comment” on national television without being obvious about what was going on.

When the night of the show came you were doing it again, pacing, but this time in your dressing room. You were extremely nervous, and Z was beyond tired of it.

“The sound of your heels is giving me a headache,” you stopped for maybe three seconds to glare at her before continuing, “it’s going to be fine, how much damage can you do in a ten-minute interview?”

“We’ve all seen people destroy their careers in less than thirty seconds,”

“Yeah, but you’re not an idiot, do you wanna call Timothée?” Her request was genuine.

“Hell no, that’ll make me ten times more nervous,” talking to Timothée now would only drive you more insane, he might know how to calm you down, but hearing his voice right before speaking in front of millions would be a dangerous game to play.

“Whatever happens we know how to go into damage control mode, we’re prepared for this kind of thing,” Kelly spoke from across the room, “...not that that’ll be necessary.” For an expert in public speaking, her eloquence was largely lacking today.

“Ladies, we need to take you over to the stage entrance.” Kelly fixed your hair, gave you a quick hug, and sent you and Z on your way. You heard your names being presented and felt your knees go weak. Z linked arms with you as you walked across, you put on the best smile you could and made your way to the table. James gave you a quick hug as you greeted him. You sat down and took a deep breath.

“Nervous?” James smiled at you, way too happy about this.

“A little...um...I have a pretty weak stomach,” you spoke through clenched teeth. Zendaya tried to hold back a laugh as you spoke.

“Weak stomach is an understatement...,” you gave her an angry look as the audience laughed along with James.

“I’m just admiring what I got myself in to,” you locked eyes with the fish eyes across the table right in front of you, “Is it okay if I...” you slowly turned the table over a little bit so the bird saliva was right in front of you instead, still not appetizing, but better than eyes. James and Z laughed at you and you laughed along before James went along with the introduction.

“So here’s how this game works, even though I’m sure Y/n watches lots of this in her free time,” he turned to you and laughed as you shook your head and sucked on your lower lip, a nervous habit of yours, “we have platters of lovely food here,” he turned the table and presented all of them, Z jabbing you with her elbow when he presented the salmon smoothie, “we are each gonna ask each other questions. We’ll choose the food, then ask. I will ask to Y/n, Y/n to Zendaya, and Zendaya to me. If you don’t answer, then you eat. If you don’t want to eat, you just answer the question. It couldn’t be simpler.”

“Okay Y/n, I am going to give you...”

“What’re you going to torture me with James?”

“I can practically feel how nervous you are, so I’m going to be nice and give you the shot of hot sauce, how’s that?” You winced a little bit, knowing it wasn’t the worst, but knowing you’d take any chance to get out of it, “You like spicy food?”

“About as much as I like stubbing my toe, James,” you laughed a little, earning laughs from the audience and Zendaya as well.

“So the question is...” he let out a little giggle as he read, pausing for dramatic effect, “You are very close to Ansel Elgort,” you smiled and nodded, knowing he was crying laughing at his television with Timothée right now, “which is your least favorite movie of his?” The audience let out a little oooh. You stared at the drink in front of you. You started to reach for it and James let out a laugh.

“Really?” Zendaya said, .

“Your hand is shaking, look at her hand shaking,” he motioned to the audience, really soaking this up. You picked up the glass before sitting it back down.

“You know, I’ve never been the biggest fan of Paper Towns,”

“That’s such a cop-out, that’s one of his smallest roles!” James poked fun at you.

“What can I say? I love his movies. Cara’s lovely in Paper Towns, and it wasn’t a bad movie or anything, I just wanted them to end up together, not that that makes a bad movie, I was just disappointed with the ending...” you were rambling at this point and Zendaya was giggling at you try to justify yourself and not get a text from Cara Delavinge later, “I’m just a hopeless romantic okay?”

“That’s for sure.” Z was taunting you at this point, enjoying this way too much.

“Okay then Z, let’s see..., what should I give you?” You had a mischievous smile on your face.

“Oh no...” Z could’ve begged, but she knew the damage was already gone.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking bull penis?” You rotated the table, feeling less nervous as you knew you were only a couple questions away from ending the show, “and you’re question is...ah!” You let out a laugh.

“Spit it out, Y/n,” she playfully glared at you.

“If you had to choose one cast member of the Greatest Showman to recast, who would you recast, and who would that be wi-” You didn’t finish as she picked up one of the bull penis and dropped it in her mouth. An uproar of applause came from the audience.

“Damn Z,” “Okay James, what should I give you?” She smiled at you before turning the table to James, hitting him with the scorpion. The next couple of questions were quick, you were only asked decently easy questions and were able to curve most of them, only having to drink a hot Cheeto smoothie, which wasn’t that bad.

“Okay Y/n, you will be the last question of the night, and since you haven’t had to eat anything but that hot Cheeto smoothie, I think,” he turned the table, his eyes on the fish smoothie.

“No, James, I am begging you,” the pink drink sat in front of you.

“Relax, you don’t even know what the question is and you look like you’re going to faint.” Zendaya squeezed your shoulder as James spoke through a laugh.

“She absolutely hates seafood. I tried to get her to eat shrimp the first night I met her and she was too sweet to say no, so she swallowed the whole thing and to this day I still have never seen anyone else regurgitate a whole shrimp, and I never want to, ever again.” You remembered that day, it was a rough, and embarrassing, night.

“It was so veiny and...shrimpy,” you nudged the smoothie away from you, earning some laughs from the audience.

“Okay Y/n, just answer the question and it’ll be fine,” he picked up the card, read it, and instantly burst into laughter.

“Oh no...”

“Y/n, you have been faced with dating rumors involving you and Timothée Chalamet for a very long time, and you have denied all of them,” you gulped as a pit formed in your stomach, “Lily-Rose and Timothée have concluded their relationship of maybe three weeks, so now that they are broken up, were you lying about your relationship with Timothée beforehand, and did it have anything to do with the break up of Lily and Timothée?” You sighed, maybe this question was easier than you thought.

“Wow, saving the longest one for last, huh? Well, Lily and I still talk and as far as I know, their break up was solely based on the fact that Lily was offered an exceptional job, and they just didn’t connect well, but really you should ask them about that, it’s barely my business,” you smiled, happy you were able to successfully answer the second half of the question, “and, as for the rumors: no, no I wasn’t lying. Every time I denied it, it was true.”

“Was?” You gasped, not even realizing you’d made that mistake.

“Oh god, Y/n,” Zendaya sighed out through a laugh. She genuinely couldn’t believe you’d made it this far and then slipped up like that. You were asked a question about your past exes, only having a couple while in the public eye, and you still managed to curve it, so she had no idea how you possibly messed this one up.

“Oh shit,” you clapped your hand over your mouth after you realized what you said, and the audience up-roared into applause and gasps. Then, you remembered you cursed, and even though you cursed online, you weren’t supposed to curse on live television, and you were usually so good about it, “I am so sorry, I just cost the network money didn’t I?”

“Just a little bit,” this wouldn’t have been the first time a celebrity had cursed on his show, “don’t try to change the subject here,” his face was red from laughing.

“I’m not, I swear, I just don’t like being interrogated James,” you were laughing, but your heart was beating at a mile a minute.

“So you and Timothée Chalamet are finally together?”

“Woah! Slow down James, I don’t remember saying that-”

“You didn’t deny it did you?”

“Wow, you should be a detective,” you giggled as you tried to figure out what to say here, “I...um...”

“You have such a way with words, Miss Valedictorian,” Z interrupted you and laughed, giving you a couple seconds to think.

“I guess you could say...we’re...um...testing the...waters?” You were mortified.

“Oh Y/n, come on, this is the most we’ve ever gotten out of this segment, you’ve gotta give me something here. I don’t even know what that means.” His face was red from laughing at this point.

“To be honest, I don’t either. I think I’ve already said wayyy too much. All I know is I don’t have to drink that disgusting cup of blended fish guts, and that is all that matters to me,” you sighed in comfort, even though your whole world was crashing down right in front of you, making the audience laugh.

“You got lucky with that one,” Zendaya was enjoying this too much.

“You’re calling what just happened lucky?” The audience loved you laughing at yourself.

“And on that note, we are out of time for today. Zendaya and Y/n everyone!” The audience clapped and you quickly hugged James before getting off the stage as fast as you could. The second you made it back to the dressing room you plopped down on the couch and covered your face with your hands. Z was still laughing at you.

“How? How did you do that?” she was crying laughing at this point.

“It wasn’t that bad, right? Right?”

“Y/n, it was hilarious, people are going to eat that shit up, Y/n”

“It’s all okay, Kelsey’s on the phone for you?” Kelly entered the room.

“Okay Kels, you’re on speaker. Give it to me straight, how bad?”

“Bad? Oh Y/n, honey, people are in love with you and Timothée. Absolutely. In. Love.”

“Really?”

“There’s a video on twitter of you stuttering over your words and laughing and people are absolutely in love with it, over three million views already and it was just posted by someone a couple of minutes ago,” you could practically hear her beaming, “and then there’s another video of your eyes widening when James says Timothée, two million views. I already talked to Celine, she said Timothée’s going to release a statement on twitter tomorrow,” you sighed out of relief, “I told you Y/n: you’re loveable, Timothée’s loveable. No matter what you think, people want to see you two together. Now call him.”

“I will, thanks Kels,” you handed Kelly her phone back and picked up your own, dialing Timothée’s number in, he answered immediately, “Heyyyy Timmy,” you giggled into the phone.

“Hey Y/n/n, so much for time huh?”

“Yeah, so much for time.”

I thought this was adorable, and i am SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK. I think this is going to be the last chapter, unless you guys have suggestions for anything else I think this is a good conclusion. Seriously though, thank you all so much for the love on this, I can’t wait to write more, leave me some requests :)

Taglist: (THANK YOU ALL) @sspidermanss @fandom-food-fire @gigi-maria-argu @meaganl124 @danidomm @ewistel @booklover240 @daygiowvibe @spiderdudetom @tom-hollond @ilsolee @iidontgiveafuckuniverse @plsdontfindthisblogpeople @antoouu @xahnah @ethevenly @doobdabdib @ahoyparkwr @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @bilesxbilinskixlahey @babybloomer @bluemoonsnail @kenny-0909 @mysticalinsomniac

384 notes · View notes

xinfamousxunderdogx · 3 years

Text

Did our fairytale go bad?

Since I'm currently rather uninspired to write something new I decided to post an older one shot I wrote last year.

Pairing: Ymir x Historia

Source: Attack on Titan

Trigger Warning: kind of alcohol abuse / getting drunk

I just wanted to write a dramatic breakup story. I hope you like it. A bit different than my last two quite fluffy Jaskier x reader one shots, but I hope you'll like it anyways ^^

______________________________________________

‘You can’t just leave!’, I shouted, trying not to let my voice show her how hurt I was. How broken. How desperately I wanted her to stay. I looked at her, but she kept her gaze down, slowly shaking her head, strands of her blond hair covering her eyes. Those deep, blue, ocean eyes.

‘I can. And I will.’, she said calmly, eventually looking up. Her face didn’t show a single emotion. Did she really not care at all about all this? About us? About me? I thought I would mean at least a bit to her. But apparently not. Otherwise she wouldn’t have chosen Reiner. Not to sound selfish, but that jerk didn’t deserve her. Not at all. He was just so … I don’t know. He seemed so self-centered. I doubt that he cares about Historia the way I do. This girl deserves to be treated like a queen. But apparently that was not what Historia was looking for.

She sighed and grabbed her coat from the chair in the kitchen. ‘My uber-driver should be here any moment.’ She looked at me. I looked back, trying to figure out what exactly was going on inside her. Nothing. Historia turned around and made her way to the door. And I … I just stood there, frozen. I couldn’t let her go, but I couldn’t figure out any way to make her stay.

‘Historia, please!’

She didn’t stop, nothing that showed that she regretted her decision at least a little bit. I couldn’t move, my eyes were basically glued to the back of her head. This blonde, soft hair I ran my fingers through so many times.

Even though every part of me tried to resist this, a loud sob escaped my lips. Fuck. I hated showing feelings. Historia was actually the very first person I was with where I allowed myself to be me. To even show weakness from time to time. It was still one of the things that scared me the most. Appearing vulnerable.

“Please don’t leave me.”

My voice was cracking, I took a deep breath and bit my lip. And for a very short moment Historia stopped and her movements became more hesitating.

“I’m sorry, Ymir.”

These were the last words that left her lips, almost too silent for me to even hear them. Then she left and the last thing I heard was the door closing shut and footsteps running down the stairs.

Almost automatically my feet made their way to the kitchen, to the window from where I could see the street in front of the house. Historia stood there, next to a black car with tinted windows. And Reiner was there, too, he was leaning against the back of that car. When Historia came out of the building he smiled, approached her only to place one hand on her waist and a kiss on her forehead. Unfortunately, her hair covered her face so I couldn’t see if she was smiling. But that was better for me, I assumed.

I clenched my fist, so hard that even my short nails were digging into the skin of my palm.

That bastard.

When Historia got in the car he looked up, directly at me as if he had already known I was standing there, watching them. He even had the nerve to slightly smile at me. As if he’d conquered me or something. As if Historia was his trophy that showed his victory over me. This man was so disgusting. Historia was nothing but a toy for him, someone to brag with, and someone to be seen with. I knew that outside he’d pretend to be the perfect boyfriend, caring, courteous, protective. But as soon as they were home, alone, he wouldn’t care for her, except when it would come to his desires.

At least that’s how I expected him to behave. Maybe it was just a product of my jealousy that wouldn’t let me realize that Reiner maybe really was better for her, and that Historia actually could become happy with him.

Afraid that Reiner could read my face I turned around. From the corner of my eyes I could see him get on the back seat of the car next to Historia. And I was somehow glad they were finally leaving. I couldn’t stand seeing them together.

---

I felt as empty as back in the days where I was all alone, not knowing who I was, not really having a name or an existence. Before I met Historia.

I sank down to the floor in the hallway, closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall. Within a few minutes I lost the most important part of my life. The person that meant everything.

Where did I go wrong?

I don’t think I ever told Historia how much she actually meant to me. We also hadn’t been together for a very long time, officially together at least. Almost a year. Even though things started way earlier. But in the beginning, everything was just more of an open on-off relationship. We hooked up from time to time, went to several clubs, Historia pretending to find a guy and me pretending to help her even though we both knew that we’d end up in my bed. Together.

But I never dragged her to make things official, to decide and to state what exactly the thing between us was. I didn’t want her to feel constrained or anything like that, not only because I was the first woman she was with, also because she told me her parents were very conservative. I didn’t want her to get in trouble.

And I admit it, I was kind of afraid to confess how much she really started meaning to me in such a short amount of time. I didn’t want to acknowledge that I saw more than a friend or fuckbuddy in her. Because it scared me that I caught feelings, on top of that such strong feelings, so quick. That has never happened before. Which as well made me realize that Historia was different. My soulmate, even though that sounds corny as shit. My feelings for her were different. I’ve had several relationships before, not many, but enough to be able to compare them to Historia.

All this went on for … let’s say a bit over a year. And then Historia was the one who asked to make our relationship official. Not in public, at least not to everyone. But for us. She asked me to be her girlfriend. And I was so overwhelmed and happy. I refused to believe that all this should be over now. Everything we had.

I just wished I was more honest with her. About my feelings I mean. I wished I would’ve told her how much she really meant to me; how special she was to me. I don’t know if she knew, but I never specifically said it to her. And now I’ll probably never again have the chance to do so.

But why Reiner? Why him? She could’ve had anyone. I always saw how people looked at her whenever we were outside. And not only boys. But mostly. Hardly surprising. Historia was stunning. Not merely her character. Her bright, blue eyes, her soft, blond hair, and her smile. My god, that smile.

But why, of all other people she could have, did she choose him? Reiner, the biggest jerk I’ve ever met. It just didn’t make sense to me. To be honest, it didn’t really even make sense to me that she left me at all. I thought she was happy. I thought we were happy. Together. Was it something with her parents? Did they force Historia to get together with Reiner?

I didn’t know her parents very well, I’ve met them twice or so, but that was enough. It wouldn’t surprise me if they forced Historia into this relationship. In their eyes Reiner was probably perfect for their princess. Tall, popular, from a wealthy family. The exact opposite of me. He was perfect. Highest graduation, and probably about to be the next head of his father’s company. God dammit, why do I know so much about this bastard? Right, Historia had told me about him. Not often, she just complained that her parents always reproached her with what a perfect guy he was. Comments, that subtly meant that they wanted him and Historia to get married and have lots of children together. But Historia also always told me how ridiculous this behavior was in her eyes. And how disgusting Reiner was to her.

“He doesn’t really have much respect for women. He’s that kind of guy that thinks a woman belongs in the kitchen and who wants his girlfriend to stay at home, look pretty and be completely dependent on him.” She said all that with a face that clearly showed her disgust about his attitude.

Was this all a lie?

I buried my face in my arms which I’ve rested on my knees. I couldn’t prevent a single tear from running down my face. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Maybe I didn’t mean as much to her as I thought I did. Maybe I was kind of an experiment for her. Maybe she saw the past two years as an adventure, a break from her stereotypical, normal, boring life. But now she’s had enough and wants to get back to her usual, previous life.

The last thing I wanted to do now was to drown in self-hatred and doubts again, but I couldn’t help. Too many questions were running through my head.

What if I did things in a different way? Was there anything I should’ve done different? I could or should’ve done better? Did I hurt her without noticing? Did I give her the impression I didn’t love her?

“Fuck!”, I whispered, my voice thin and raspy.

How do I shut my fucking brain off? I don’t have the energy to overthink about every single thing that I did in the past weeks. But I still do. My brain automatically starts overanalyzing everything, every single situation from the past weeks. Everything I said, everything she said. I even tried to remember if she behaved differently or anything. But I couldn’t remember. And that stressed me out. I felt horrible because I knew that it must have been my fault. I must have done something wrong.

I furrowed my eyebrows, my teeth clenched as I aggressively ran my fingers through my hair. Then I abruptly got up and made my way to the living room, directly to the cupboard next to the TV and opened it. I hated myself because alcohol seemed to be the only thing I could think about when it came to coping mechanisms. Why wasn’t I able to handle things in a normal way? My other coping mechanism had been sex, healthier than drinking, but well, kind of hard to practice when you just got dumped. So, I had to take the other opportunity.

I didn’t want to fall back into old habits. But I kept telling myself it was just this time, only tonight, that I just needed distraction until tomorrow, when I could maybe see this whole situation clearer. When I would be calmer and wouldn’t feel the shock that deeply anymore.

I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured the liquid into one of the glasses that were standing on the counter. Then I took the bottle as well as the glass with me to the sofa where I sat down. There was no need to lie, I knew I would drink more than one glass.

I took a sip, bigger than I intended and hated myself for it. This wasn’t a solution. I hated myself for being better at drinking my feelings away than talking about them. And I guess that was the main problem.

How could you be so emotionally dependent on one single person that they could leave you as a total mess as soon as they were gone? When did I even allow myself to become so attached to a person, to become so vulnerable? In a way that I couldn't come up with anything but drinking my feelings and my pain away? And even though I told myself it was only today, that I’d feel better tomorrow, that everything would be fine again in a few days.

But a tiny part of me knew that that was not true. That I wouldn’t stop drowning my sadness in whisky or any other strong alcohol. That I wouldn’t get over this so fast.

I grabbed the bottle and filled my glass again, taking a big sip to silent this voice in my head that was whispering all these verities to me, at least for tonight.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #ymir x historia #yumikuri #yumihisu

14 notes · View notes

harrysweasleys · 4 years

Text

summer blues // s.f

Summary: Can you write a Seamus Finnigan imagine where he and his girlfriend spend the summer before 6th year together in Ireland discussing their future and the impending war? Especially since during 5th year they hit a rough patch when they broke up over their differing opinions on Voldemort’s return and believing Harry but got back together after he realized and they’re stronger than ever. More of a fluff request than angst please

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: so this is my first time writing for seamus! i hope you enjoy! gif isn’t mine, as usual. xx

“You’re telling me that you believe all that rubbish?” Seamus’ voice was angrier than you had ever heard it, and it was — to your displeasure — directed towards you.

“Course I do,” you argued back, “What good does Harry gain from lying about You Know Who’s return? Everyone’s ratting on him — including the Prophet, which you’ve so kindly decided to use as an example.”

You loved Seamus, you really did, but his ignorance was driving you through the goddamn roof. Ever since Cedric’s death the previous year, he had been blabbing on and on about how Harry was delusional, how he had been so damaged as a child that he looked everywhere he could for fame — even through the death of a fellow student.

You, on the other hand, had found his accusations rather ridiculous. Of course, no one knew what really happened the night Cedric Diggory had been killed in the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, but you could tell right away that something was wrong. So when Harry announced You Know Who was back, you believed him in a heartbeat.

“Don’t be stupid,” Seamus waved his arms in exhasperation, “Stop siding with Harry. Blimey, if you like him so much go date him.”

“No, you are not turning this into a contest,” you snapped, pointing a finger at him as the anger continued bubbling in your chest, “Just because you’re in denial does not mean you can bring down those around you.”

“I am not in denial,” he crossed his arms, approaching you, “You’re just insanely gullible.”

Your heart felt as if it was being constricted, “Seamus, please. Just come to your senses here. I can’t keep arguing the same stupid points with you anymore.”

Seamus straightened up, adjusting his sweater before giving you a cold look, “Fine. Then let’s stop.”

You let out a relieved sigh, thankful that the fight was coming to a close. You walked over to him, ready to call it a night and go to bed — now that you were exhausted from the fighting — but he stepped away from you and clenched his jaw.

“By stop, I meant stop dating,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze completely by this point. Not that it mattered, his words had the same impact. Your heart shattered and all the air had been completely knocked out of your lungs. You gazed at him, mouth open like a fish out of water.

“What?” your voice was faint, distant, as if it wasn’t even coming from you.

He shuffled his feet across the floor, eyes looking everywhere but you, “I think we should break up.”

The boy’s dorm room had never felt smaller as you stood there, staring at Seamus with every ounce of you wanting to fight, to argue, to go down any other path. But you were silent. Your mind told you to leave. To walk out and not bother. So that’s exactly what you did.

You stormed out of the boy’s dorm, passing Dean and Neville on the way out, both of whom asked if you were alright, not gaining an answer from you. You rushed up the stairs to your own room, shutting the door violently behind you. Luckily, Ginny and Hermione were out for the day, along with Pavarti who was rarely around anyways.

You threw your body down on the bed, clutching a pillow to your chest, and began to cry silently, the heavy rain pounding against the window matching exactly how you were feeling.

And now, without Seamus by your side, and with the looming threat of an upcoming battle, you had never felt more alone.

— —

“I’m still sorry about that, ya know,” Seamus spoke softly, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, which were now calloused due to the amount of physical work he had been doing over the summer.

You nodded, gazing up at him with a faint smile, “I know, so am I.”

“I always want my girl by my side,” he pressed his lips to your forehead softly, causing a delighted shiver to go down your spine, goosebumps rising on your bare arms despite the sunlight beaming down.

The summer holidays were a bit of a drag this year as opposed to how exciting they usually were. After the ordeal at the Ministry and the death of Sirius Black, and of course, the rise of You Know Who, there was very little to enjoy or look forward to.

Your fifth year had been one of your most beneficial years yet, thanks to Harry and the secret army that he founded in the Room or Requirements. You had learned spells that you didn’t think you’d be able to do only in your fifth year. Your life changed drastically, and no matter how much you were dreading the eventual return to school, you were prepared this time.

Seamus, after coming around and realizing that Harry was right all along, had turned out to be one of the best wizards in Dumbledore’s Army. Even you were surprised by how talented he was, considering you had been watching him blow up potions for five years.

— —

“I uh — I reckon you’re right.”

You gazed up from the breakfast you had been munching on and met Seamus’ eyes. His hands were fidgeting and his hair looked disheveled, as if he hadn’t slept the night before. You, on the other hand, had taken the opportunity to not sulk. Yes, he had broken your heart mere weeks before, but with the help of your friends and Dumbledore’s Army, you still found yourself feeling... good.

“Right about what?” you raised an eyebrow, placing your fork down. You hadn’t actually spoken to him since your breakup, but you had seen him in every class. It was quite frustrating, if you were being honest. You missed him like hell and he was always just a few seats away from you. You often found yourself wanting to apologize, but why? He was in the wrong. And he was the one who broke up with you.

“About Harry. About You Know Who,” he mumbled, sitting across from you to avoid looking like he was making a scene. He continued to fidget with his fingers nervously.

You pursed your lips, nodding your head slowly, “And what, may I ask, made you change your mind?”

He peered up at you, running a hand through his hair, “I — uh — I was speaking to me mum the other day and we both agree that the Prophet articles don’t really match up. The Ministry is clearly making stuff up.”

You nodded, raising your eyebrows and clearing your throat, “Clearly? I thought it was clear when I told you Harry was telling the truth. Was my word not enough?” You were glad Seamus had finally come to his senses, but there was still a part of you that was angry he didn’t believe you in the first place.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he sighed, running his hands down his face, “I’m sorry I didn’t side with you. I guess the thought of You Know Who returning to power was too much.”

You let out a small chuckle, “It’s okay, Seamus. I’m messing with you. I’m glad you’ve come around and realized the truth.” Reaching across the table, you grabbed his hand and linked it with yours. It was sweaty, clammy, but the familiarity of his fingers laced with yours was enough for you to pull your mind away from all the other things.

“I’m sorry about everything I said to you too,” he admitted softly, his eyes showing every ounce of his apology, “I really do love you. I feel horrible about what I said.”

“I love you too, you idiot,” you grinned, lifting your hand to poke him in the cheek, causing his smile to appear. Already, as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders, his eyes looked livelier and more awake.

You finally had him back.

— —

“I may be an idiot but I’m a lucky idiot because you took me back,” Seamus’ voice was still soft, his hands pulling away from your hair to pluck at a dandelion that had been sitting in the grass, placing it gently behind your ear.

You leaned up, resting your elbows in the patchy dirt, “I’m too smitten to not take you back, you big goof.”

He grinned down at you, leaning back and laying in the grass next to you, placing his hands behind his head and gazing up at the clouds passing overhead. The view from Seamus’ yard was quite spectacular. The rolling hills could be seen in the distance, the never ending fields of gorgeous grass and flowers surrounding the cozy house, and the garden that his mother used to grow her food was unlike any other. You really loved it here.

“I don’t think our next year is going to be as calm as the rest,” Seamus looked lost in thought as he spoke, eyes still glued to the clouds.

“You thought our previous years were calm?” you scoffed jokingly, “Professor Quirrel was crazy, then we had the Chamber of Secrets, then we had Sirius Black — which if I recall correctly, you were terrified of — then the tournament—,”

“Ok, I get it,” Seamus chuckled, waving his hand to cut you off, “It hasn’t been... uneventful, I guess.”

“But,” you spoke up once your laughter had died down, “I reckon you’re right. I think things are going to change.”

After the ordeal at the Ministry made headlines, captioning the fact that the one wizard everyone had feared to their very core had returned, you doubted your sixth year would be anything like the rest. Both you and Seamus had already received Owls from both Hogwarts and the Ministry saying that security at Hogwarts was bound to be at an all-time high. Not that you minded, safety was important, but that was bound to change things.

“What if things take a turn for the worst?” Seamus leaned over and gazed at you, resting his head in his hand and lifting his other one to wrap around your waist and pull you closer, your loose hair tangling in the grass as you moved towards him.

You leaned up, sending him a gentle smile, “Well, we may not know what’s to come, but I think you and I will be alright.”

“You think?” he raised an eyebrow, a questioning look on his face.

You nodded, “I do. And I also think that now since everything is surfacing, we’re bound to be taught everything we need to know.”

He seemed to agree with your words, “You’re right there. The professors ought to know we need to protect ourselves. Especially being classmates with The Chosen One and all.”

You giggled, leaning down and shoving his shoulder, knocking him onto his back. You took the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder, raising one of your hands to run your fingers through his short hair, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’ll stay by me, right?” he asked softly, running his fingers up and down your other arm, which was draped around his abdomen.

You lifted your head to press a kiss to his cheek, “Course I will. Wouldn’t want to stick by anyone else.”

He chuckled, squeezing you closer to him — if that was even possible at this point. You could feel the warmth leaving his body, the soothing thump of his heartbeat, and the smell of grass and soil. All in all, despite the oncoming darkness, you felt at peace.

You guys sat in the warm sunshine for quite some time after that, unfortunately rushing indoors once heavy clouds rolled in and cold rain poured down, soaking you both to your core.

He pulled you inside by the hand, the two of you laughing and being careful not to drip all over Seamus’ family’s furniture, which happened to be a lot of antiques and handcrafted items that his mother loved to tell you the stories of.

“C’mon, let’s go dry off,” he was still slightly laughing as he made his way towards the linen closet, pulling out two towels for the two of you to dry off with.

After patting yourself down, you chucked your towel over his head and rubbed it on his hair, his laughter muffled through the cotton.

“Nice, real mature,” he threw it off of him and glared at you playfully, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and beginning to tickle you. You let out a scream, smacking his shoulders and begging for him to stop.

“Seamus! Stop — I can’t —,” your words we’re struggling to come out through your laughter. You could feel your entire face heating up at the contact, hoping his parents weren’t going walk in.

He pulled his hands away from your waist, so you rushed to catch your breath in case he decided to once again resume his tickle attack. But, instead of doing so, he gently placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. He was still drenched, but his heat was soothing flushed up against your own body.

“I can’t get enough of you, y’know?” he brought one of his hands up to your cheek and cupped it lightly, leaning his head down to place his lips against yours. Your body felt ignited, the warmth spreading through you incredibly quickly as if hot water had been poured over you. His lips were cold, but they pressed against yours with enough passion for you to feel hot.

He had always been such a gentle kisser, taking in the moment and savouring then contact. This time was no different. You could feel every ounce of love he poured into the intimate gesture, sending your heart soaring and your fingers tingling.

He pulled away after a good moment, leaning his forehead up against yours, “Love you.”

You smiled, cheeks hurting from the giddiness you were feeling, “Love you too, you goof.”

#seamus finnigan #seamus finnigan imagine #seamus finnigan imagines #seamus finnigan fic #seamus finnigan fics #seamus finnigan one shot #seamus finnigan one shots #seamus finnigan reader insert #seamus finnigan x reader

151 notes · View notes

monkberries · 3 years

Note

Wait what's wrong with the AKOM How Do You Sleep episode? I remember it being fine but its been ages since i listened to it so if you've got any thoughts I'd love to hear them :)

Be aware, this is only about the first episode, not about the George-focused episode. If they resolve any of the issues I have with the first episode in the second episode, then I sincerely apologize.

First, there are some things they talk about that I agree with! Near the end of the episode, they discuss the dynamic between John and the people around him in a really insightful way, and in a way I’ve often thought about it; both John and the people around him were all kind of in this mindset of “oh, Paul rejected us? Well, we didn’t want him ANYWAY! So THERE!” They also discuss the fact that John was very easily manipulated, and nearly his entire support system (minus Ringo, and shame on them for not mentioning that) basically egged his anger and viciousness on. And they also play/read some interviews with John about the song and tangential subjects, and it’s always nice to hear primary sources.

However, much like their post about Lewisohn, I find a lot of this episode excessive, overtorqued, and generally far too exaggerated. They perceive an imbalance in narratives (which I do think is there, just not to the extent they say) and overcorrect, imho.

First, I want to get my opinion on the song itself out of the way: I listen to it a lot. It’s on my Fall 2020 playlist. I enjoy the musicality, the style; the mood it evokes is extremely strong to me. Sometimes it’s fun to indulge in feeling evil or mean without having to actually be evil or mean! Plus, I love playing it right before Jealous Guy, or Steel and Glass, or I Know (I Know), just to get that maximum John Lennon Mood Whiplash effect. I think George’s solo is vicious and perfect for the mood as well. However, the lyrics are pretty horrendous in terms of their effect on Paul and his feelings; they’re also horrendous in that they’re just not well-written lyrics. IMHO you can tell it was written by three different people all throwing insults at the wall to see what would stick and rhyme. Half of the digs don’t even make sense. “So Sgt. Pepper took you by surprise/You better see right through that mother’s eyes” Wut? “The one mistake you made was in your head” ??? The hell do these things even mean lmao

Anyway. Onto the episode itself.

Around 1 minute in, they say that there’s not a lot of check and balance in the Beatles fandom w/r/t this song, and that much of the fandom espouses that HDYS was “deserved” and “honest”. They reiterate this sentiment over in different ways throughout the episode, and I just do not see that kind of thing being a majority opinion in Beatles fandom spaces at all. Perhaps they are occupying different fandom spaces than I occupy (tumblr/Hey Dullblog/beatlebioreview), and it is true where they are? (In which case, my goodness, find some better blogs to follow, babes!) They talk about how they’ve never seen anyone pick it apart before, and that the discussion around it has not changed, that people have been saying Paul deserved it since it came out. Again, this is does not jive with my experience in the Beatles fandom.

From Shout!, a book with a well known anti-McCartney streak, published in 1981: “John’s Imagine album - despite the plea for universal peace and brotherhood in the title track - launched a thermo-nuclear strike back at Paul with ‘How Do You Sleep?’ a title suggesting crimes almost in the realm of first-degree murder. The McCartney references were unmistakable, and, often, cruelly unjust: ‘The freaks was right when they said you was dead... The only thing you done was Yesterday...’ There was even a two-fingered gesture of contempt for Paul’s new outdoor life with Linda on their Scottish farm.” Also, the RS review spends two paragraphs talking specifically about how heinous and unjustifiable HDYS is. You can definitely say that rock journalism takes some of the attitude of HDYS and runs with them, such as Paul’s music sounding like muzak - that sentiment certainly persisted. But I would argue that most of the shit journos are reacting to and buying into comes from Lennon Remembers primarily, where John says all the same crap and more, and worse, rather than HDYS itself, which they seem to balk at.

They make the claim as well that the Imagine LP has been elevated to some kind of untouchable, un-criticizeable status. In the years after his death, I think there is probably some truth to that, although again, untouchable is an extreme word. Even in 2003, the LP was number 80 on Rolling Stone’s top 500 albums of all time. However, it was 227 on NME’s list in 2013 and dropped to 223 on Rolling Stone’s new 2020 list, suggesting a waning in popularity over time and a willingness to look more objectively at the quality of it.

The thing that really bothered me about this episode is like... They talk about the need for nuanced discussion of the song, right? And that’s all fine and good, and I agree, nuance in any Beatles discussion is essential if you want to get close to any actual truth. However, they then go on to say, quite adamantly, that if you say the music of the song is good, even if you think the lyrics are awful, then they wouldn’t even bother having a conversation with you. It’s very “We want nuance! NO NOT LIKE THAT! YOU’RE DOING NUANCE WRONG!” Like, I’m sorry, the music is good, in my opinion! John is very good at evoking a mood! The fact that I think George’s solo is incredible, or that the keyboard riff gives me chills, or that I think the bass goes super hard, doesn’t mean I don’t understand how rough the lyrics are or the effect they had on Paul. In fact, imho, I think it’s important that we discuss how quality the music is because it underscores the calculated cruelty John exhibited. He worked hard on this song. He wanted to create a very specific feeling out of it, and he succeeded in spades. I think if it had been crappy musically, people would have been much more contemptuous of it than they already are. As I said earlier, some of the digs don’t even make sense; I think they’re bolstered and propped up specifically because the music underneath them is so good. Also, it’s not fucking wrong to enjoy a groove.

I also take some issue with them saying that HDYS was easily among the worst things John ever did. Like... equivalent or worse than going on anti-Semitic, homophobic rants? Yikes.

There are many instances in this episode where they will go “I often read things like...” or “Jean Jackets will say...” or “I see this a lot...” and then never actually talk about where they see these things or quote directly from them. One instance goes “I often read things like, ‘John Lennon is expressing years of pent-up resentment over creative differences’, as if John is some kind of, like, drunk art teacher doling out free advice to Paul on his music.” I’ve read a lot about HDYS and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that. Just about every discussion of the song I’ve seen says very clearly that it was an unjustified, deeply personal attack. I realize there is an aversion to publicly Naming Names when you’re calling out people who perpetuate a bad narrative. But I want to know where this stuff comes from. I want to actually see what it is they’re upset about.

Lastly, they talk near the end about music innovation and experimentation, and this is where I think things go much too far in overcorrecting a narrative. The well-known narrative for many years post breakup was that Paul was a boring square who wrote granny music. That is true; he was much maligned in the press about that. However, I think post-Hertsgaard, post-Revolution In The Head, post-Complete Recording Sessions, and post-Many Years From Now, that attitude has changed quite a bit. Most serious Beatles fans know now that Paul was the first one to really get into Avant-Garde stuff; most fans know about the fact that he made McCartney 1 basically alone in a homemade studio. Most fans have probably heard or at least heard of Temporary Secretary, lmao.

But it feels like these women are still living in the past where Paul was still being maligned for being a square, so instead they go way far to the other end and say “Paul was the musical innovator, not John.” And that is just flat out NOT true. They were BOTH musical innovators. The fact that Paul was the first to get into avant-garde art does not exclude John from also being incredibly innovative and experimental in his own way. Perhaps he wasn’t doing that on Imagine; they are right that Imagine is a collection of really good but fairly commercial songs. But they utterly discount the fact that he did Strawberry Fields Forever, and I Want You (She’s So Heavy), popularized backmasking, was one of the first if not the first to use amp feedback in a song in I Feel Fine, experimented with recording his voice differently with Tomorrow Never Knows and Revolution, and also the entirety of Plastic Ono Band!!! You don’t have to downplay or erase John’s experimental contributions to music in order to elevate Paul’s. You can elevate both of them. It’s fine.

Also, this is the episode where they say Lewisohn’s book is exactly the same as all the other Jean Jackets books except thicker, and I have a viscerally bad reaction to that for many reasons I have already outlined on this blog. Suffice to say, it is demonstrably untrue (not least because Lewisohn hasn’t published anything in his Tune In series that goes beyond 1962) and unfair to someone who has done an unbelievable amount of legwork to back up his writing. They also compare Lewisohn to Goldman (???????) and call them John and Yoko’s “fuckin bitch boys saying the same shit over and over again.” I have to imagine Goldman was a misspeak and she meant someone else, but still that jarred me lmfao

#about the blogger #Anonymous #podcast blues

22 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1177

survey by joybucket

Have you _____ during this pandemic?

Worn a mask? I mean, of course. I put one on even when I’m only picking up deliveries from my doorstep.

got tested for coronavirus? Never. I also hope I’ll never have to go through this, I don’t want a stick up my nose and throat D:

known someone who died from the virus? Personally? Too many people at this point.

gotten the COVID vaccine? Not yet, but I have many relatives who’ve already gotten theirs, my mom and grandmother included, so at least. I know my employer has a plan in place over the next few weeks or months, so I’m just currently waiting for updates on their end.

started a new hobby? Yeah, I started on embroidery late last year. I haven’t been able to keep it up, but I’m still very much interested and want to go back to it soon. I also plan on getting one or two new Klaypel kits so I can finally replace and throw out the ones Gabie gave to me as gifts.

hated being stuck at home? Yeah, especially during the start when there seemed to be no end in sight. When they heightened quarantine protocols again earlier this month, that also made me feel aggravated about being stuck at home indefinitely since I had already started going out on weekends for self-dates.

worn a mask someone made for you? No one has made a mask for me, but one of my uncles got me a supply of a certain kind of face mask that I didn’t initially use.

sewn your own mask? No.

purchased masks at the store? Not me personally, but my dad regularly buys a supply for the family to use.

purchased a KN95 or N95 mask? Again, not me. But we regularly have a stock at home, along with the blue surgical face masks.

complimented someone on their mask? I don’t think so. I barely pay attention especially towards mask designs.

protested mask-wearing? ????? My name’s not Karen.

complained on Facebook? Nothing mask-related, but I have definitely complained about the government’s negligence and lack of proactivity about this entire situation.

read a book? I started on Midnight Sun which my parents got for me, but I never finished it. I got busy immediately the week after since I got accepted into my internship, and it was also because I was dealing with my breakup and could not focus enough to read for more than 5 minutes.

had an event canceled you had been looking forward to? My college graduation, which I’ll forever stay bitter about.

stocked up on toilet paper? I don’t think so. My parents didn’t believe in panic-buying.

been to the store when it was crowded? I do remember the mall being packed when I went last-minute Christmas shopping. Not to a crazy extent, but there was still quite a number of people.

been to the store when the toilet paper aisle was empty? N/A. We don’t have toilet paper aisles, but all stores have hand sanitizers and temperature checks by their entrance.

lost your job? I didn’t have a job before the pandemic because I had still been a student when everything started.

worked from home? Yup, and still on an WFH arrangement until now.

still had to go to work? I’ve had to go two times, but that was because it was absolutely necessary to go to the office to get the work done. My employer is pretty strict about this anyway and if something could be done at home, they’d decline the request.

went to a protest at your state's capital building? Well we don’t have states so this isn’t really relevant to me. Should a credible org plan a protest against the government though, I’d be interested in going.

watched the news for updates on the virus? We keep the TV on during dinner, at which time the news is always on. Whether I want to or not, I always get updates on the Covid situation in the country.

wondered if you had covid? Yeah, when I got extremely sick in May last year.

not left the house for a week? Way more than a week.

watched YouTube videos? YouTube is pretty much a part of my daily routine, with or without the virus.

spent a whole day watching movies? I’ve only watched one movie since the beginning of the pandemic.

cleaned your house from top to bottom? Not me, but my mom.

ordered something online? Too much crap.

ordered a pizza? I’ve gotten pizza a few times for my family, yeah. I remember ordering from Pizza Hut, Motorino, and most recently, Yellow Cab.

prayed to God?

completely forgotten a holiday that you normally celebrate? Nah, I usually remember when holidays are because that means I get a day off hahaha.

voted in an election? There haven’t been any elections that have taken place since the start of the pandemic.

gotten to know your neighbors? Somewhat. I only say hi to them and greet them a good morning/afternoon when I walk the dogs, but I don’t initiate conversations.

sanitized everything in your home? We always do this, especially when a package arrives for someone in the family.

wrote someone a letter? Started one but never finished because I soon realized it wouldn’t be worth it.

wished this pandemic were over? Don’t we all?

been surprised this pandemic has lasted so long? Yeah, I definitely thought things would be normal by now.

worried about catching the virus? I think the worry exists for everyone. I just wouldn’t say I’ve ever gotten super anxious and panicky about it. I feel pretty resigned at this point and just want everything to be over, so I can finally have the life I was meant to have back.

stayed home because you didn't want to catch the virus? That, and because I was required to stay home to begin with.

been to church? We watch a service on YouTube every Sunday morning.

watched an online church service? ^ Yeah, that’s what I meant haha oops.

been stopped by a police officer? No, but there was one time I was cleaning up Cooper’s tray and there happened to be a village guard cycling by our street, and he just kindly reminded me to put on a mask or shield since I had forgotten to do it.

seen a lot of police cars patrolling the area? No. I would definitely be pissed off if this happened - especially in a residential subdivision - and share a pic on social media to alert everyone about the unnecessary mess that is the police.

had someone cough on you out in public? No. But again, this would also piss me off and I wouldn’t hesitate to confront the asshole who would do something like that.

has someone stand less than six feet away from you while waiting in line? Always. Some people here can still be unbelievably stubborn.

had to use an inhaler? Never needed one.

been to the doctor? Yeah, to have my blood and urine tests examined.

had increased asthma and/or allergy symptoms? I have neither.

felt like you were fighting a virus? Like I said, I got a bad fever sometime last year. Even though I didn’t show any of the common Covid symptoms (e.g. I had wet cough instead of a dry cough), I felt as if I was rotting away lmao. I could barely stand up and I felt like fainting the second I would raise my head.

been diagnosed with the coronavirus? No.

felt lonely? It’s natural.

went somewhere with a friend? Just a couple of times. I went to UPTC with Andi at the start of the year, then back in Feb I went to Perfy’s with several friends, well aware of our ignorance but badly craving for a sense of normalcy for even just a night.

attended an online event? BANG BANG COOOOOOOOOON. Best 8 hours of my life during the pandemic thus far.

had a business in your area close down? Like the people I know who’ve died from the virus, too many.

received a stimulus check? Hasn’t happened.

received food stamps? No, and I don’t think we have that system in place here. The government just lets the hungry go hungrier.

applied for disability? No, not applicable.

applied for food assistance? No, thankfully we haven’t reached this point.

visited a food pantry? ^

had a fever? Just back in May. Hasn’t happened again since.

believed a conspiracy theory about the virus? Cringe, no.

had to take online classes? When the whole world was still at a loss on how to handle a global pandemic, aka early March, I briefly took Zoom sessions for some of my classes. But it proved to be difficult what with many students struggling with internet connections or being stuck somewhere without their school supplies, so my university canceled the sem altogether not long after and gave everyone general passing grades.

ate at a restaurant? I did a few times. I frequented coffee shops rather than restaurants, though.

walked through a drive-thru? I’ve...driven through a drive-thru, but not walk.

had your mask fog up your glasses? Every damn time I get out of the car, hahaha.

had to go to the hospital because of covid? Nope, not for myself or for someone else.

had to go to the hospital for a different reason? For my fever.

used hand sanitizer? At least once a day.

felt encouraged, joyful, or blessed? Now, especially. Things are starting to look up, at least for my own life.

#survey #surveys

4 notes · View notes

bbyboybrock--archived · 4 years

Text

Foreshadowing (Sam Golbach Imagine)

Summary: You take some time to reflect on your relationship with Sam and realize feels familiar.

Written: 2020

Word Count: 1,485

Warnings: Fluff

Masterlist

“Do you ever have this overwhelming déjà vu feeling? But it’s not déjà vu, it’s… I don’t even know what it is.” I ask Sam randomly.

Sam looks up from his phone and raises an eyebrow at me. Which completely is valid because this is the first thing I’ve said to him in the past few hours. I came over as soon as I woke up just to have a lazy day with him. I walked into his apartment and just situated myself on his couch. We exchanged a few words, where Sam told me he had to edit part of the new Sam and Colby series so I just watched movies on my laptop while I waited.

When Sam finally came down to spend time with me, I was responding to work emails and fans. One fan asked us to do a relationship Q and A which sparked a thread of questions for us from other fans. While going through the questions and silently answering them by myself, I had this feeling like that stuff in our relationship happened before. Which is ridiculous seeing as Sam and I started dating three years ago after being friends for two years.

“What are you talking about? The fact that we’re lounging around in my apartment or something else?” Sam laughed. His eyes were bewildered.

“Never mind, let’s go out for dinner. Maybe catch a movie?” I suggest as I finally close my laptop and set it on the table. I swing my legs off of Sam’s lap and stand up to stretch.

“Let’s go to one of those theaters that serves food during the movie. We haven’t gone to one of those in a while. Then we can go out for dessert.” Sam mentions as I walk into his room. I give him a thumbs-up before going through the clothes that I left here.

****

After our impromptu date, I went home. Sam said that he had a photoshoot in the morning. Which is fine, I have to film in the morning anyway. We spent a chunk of the day together, which is all I could ask for. But for whatever reason, I can’t stop thinking about the non-déjà vu, déjà vu. It’s been bothering me all day. I don’t know why, but the fact that I can’t put my finger on it is bugging me.

It wasn’t about the whole lazy day with Sam that felt familiar, we have one of those at least every other week. It was all of it, how we got together, when we got together, etc. Even that doesn’t make sense. All of my past relationships started differently and at different points in my life. When I looked back at our relationship earlier for the imaginary relationship video that I was planning on filming, it almost felt like I was describing a movie that I’ve seen a hundred times. Like it didn’t really happen to me, that I watched it.

The thing is, nothing spectacular happened when Sam and I met. We met three times before we actually became friends. The first time we met was at the grocery store believe it or not. We bumped our carts to each other. Of course, at that time I also met Colby, who was the reason Sam wasn’t paying attention in the first place. Colby then left to grab something that I pretty sure they didn’t need just so Sam and I could talk. That didn’t surpass a brief conversation bout cereal. The second time we met at a party a week later. We were both in line for the bathroom and I was almost certain that I had seen that particular blond haircut before. Then again, there were a lot of blond-haired guys in LA. So when he turned around, I was surprised that I was right. We found out that we were both in the social media world, he was still new to YouTube but a pro at Vine, whereas I only did YouTube. The last time we met before we decided to use become friends was at our apartment building. We found out that we were neighbors. We must have walked past each other hundreds of times without even realizing it. Meeting twice was a coincidence, but meeting three times in less than a month was a sign.

I was at the end of a messy relationship when I first met Sam. Not too long after I had an even messier breakup. By the time I was ready to date again, I realized that Sam probably didn’t see me more than a friend, and I was fine with that. I rather keep Sam in my life than screw up the dynamic that we had. It took two years before I even realized that Sam felt the same way. He took the first plunge and asked me out for Valentine’s Day. We normally did something on Valentine's Day anyway because we were both single. That year he took me on a brief tour of all the three places that we met. Well, we went outside of the house that had the party because the people that lived there moved. At each place, he told me one thing he took away from our first encounter. Then he took me to a fourth location, the beach. That was the place where he first realized that he was in love with me.

We went to the beach a few months after we met. I took him. I had just broken up with my boyfriend of four years. I didn’t want to be at home, I wanted to be in my happy place. Sam didn’t I had literally just broken up that jerk. He said that I looked the happiest I had been in months. It was Fall and the coldest day it could be in LA. And all I wanted was to go in the water. And I dragged him with me, and that was it. After the drive home, I told him about the fight I had with my boyfriend, I cried a little, he wiped my tears away, and then I went into my apartment.

That Valentine’s Day, we had a picnic at the beach, watched the sunset. I kept poking fun at because of his fear of the setting sun. But he kept insisting that there was one thing scarier than the sunset at that moment. After the last ray of the sun faded, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes, we kissed, the end. We’ve been together ever since.

My attention was cut off by my phone buzzing. I picked it up to see a message from my group chat with my high school friends. It was a link to a BuzzFeed quiz. It was a “when will you meet your soulmate” quiz. That’s it, that has to be where déjà vu is coming from. But it can’t be. A quiz online is only meant to be for fun, you’re not supposed to base your entire life around them. We’ve been taking these quizzes since our senior year of high school. But out of curiosity, I started to check all of the old results. We would share what we got with each other. There are years of messages that I have to go through.

By the time I finished searching, I found three quizzes taken before key moments that I had with Sam that lay out what’s happened in our relationship. Oddly enough, they’re made by the same person. The three quizzes were, “how will you meet your next partner,” “what your next partner’s first initial be,” and “who will say I love first.” The last quiz was also made by the same person. This could all be a coincidence, but I take the quiz anyway. Just for the novelty of it all.

As I’m about to get my results, there is a knock at the door. I stare into the void that is the darkness of my apartment and blink. I might get murdered. Or maybe one of the drunk college students that live next door could have gotten the wrong apartment number again. Stupidly, I get up, grab the baseball bat from the door, and looked through the peephole. I take a sigh of relief when I see that it’s Sam on the other side. I drop the bat and open the door.

“Sam? It’s nearly three am. What are you doing here?” I ask as I let him inside.

“I couldn’t sleep and I was lonely. I missed you Y/N.” He says as he wraps his arms around me.

“Fine, get to bed. I’ll be there in a second.” Sam kisses my cheek and walks into my room.

I pull my phone out of my pocket just to check the quiz. It only had one sentence.

You’re already with them.

#sam golbach #sam golbach imagine #sam golbach imagines #imagine #imagines masterlist #Sam and Colby #sam and colby imagines #sam and colby imagine #fluff #valentine's day #valentine's day imagine #valentine's day imagines #sam golbach x reader

178 notes · View notes

thisiskatsblog · 3 years

Note

Hey, sorry if this is too personal or if you’ve already answered it. Would you mind telling how you realized you were bisexual? I’m kinda confused and struggling a bit 😫

Hi there! Warm hugs to you! Confusion happens. Struggling with that is really normal and okay. Whatever it is that’s confusing you, there’s probably a lot to unpack, but it’s good you’re not running away from it. For me, there were cues all along, but clarity came when for the first time, and this was in my mid- twenties, I allowed myself to sit with all of my feelings, without pushing any of them away. Because pushing them away, I only then realized, I had been doing for a very long time.

It was almost insignificant. My partner commented positively on the female violinist at a Sparklehorse concert. I was really pissed and scolded him about it. He said I shouldn’t feel so offended as “She’s your type”. For a moment I felt like I was about to explode. He meant to say she looked like me, but for a second I understood something different. And I had a flash of realization. I had been about to act offended, which would have been blatantly homophobic, but underneath, I had also felt a tinge of relief, YES she WAS my type, I liked this woman, I’d do her. And it was this mix of “oh god I almost acted like a homophobic prick” and “oh god FINALLY someone GETS me” that made me realize - OH. I have these feelings, and they have been making me miserable, because I feel like I should be pushing them away. But what if I didn’t act like a prick to myself, what if I stopped being scared of them, stopped pushing them away? I watched the rest of that concert mesmerized by the wonder of my feelings for Sparklehorse’s cute violinist, and realized, yes, I feel sexual desire for women, and that’s never going to go away. My sexual desire for men had always been clear and without question to me, I knew that wasn’t going to go away either. So that was the start of a long, and still ongoing, journey of gradually looking my feelings in the eye, and starting to understand I was always going to feel attracted to more than one gender, and trying to navigate that fact in a biphobic and bi erasing world. It is not always easy and simple. I don’t feel I’m fully there; but looking it in the eye really made me a better, nicer, happier person.

I have probably shared the full story in the past and I may have tagged it “bisexuality” or “me”, but I feel ya so I’m happy to tell the story again. Under the cut. And: always here to talk.

Clearly it’s something that was always there, and the realization came in many many stages. When I first heard of the concept gay people (it was the eighties, in the context of AIDS) I asked my mom “but what if I turn out to be gay” and her absolute certainty that I wouldn’t, really did not sit right with me. I was 8 and could not imagine getting naked with anyone, but I could imagine marrying a girl. I think I already realized I liked some girls a bit more than others in my very early teens, but it took the form of strong admiration. I grew up in a strongly religious and homophobic environment, incredibly powerful incentives all around to ignore those feelings, stay far away from them, not explore them, just, pretend they were not there and label them “I just REALLY want to be her friend”. Just blame that tingly feeling in your chest when you sat close and she talked in your ear on the strong smell of her perfume. And later, telling yourself this is a phase, a test. Yep, must be God testing me - praying (something i considered useless long before I lost all faith), but praying, probably the last time I did it, please God, help me, please let this go away. I cried an entire night long. And forgot about that episode for more than ten years. Pushed it as far as I could in my memory.

Knowing for absolutely sure I liked guys, I was sure I could not be a lesbian (and didn’t want to be, the homophobia was deeply engrained) and I was sure this would eventually go away. And it did, I got a boyfriend, he was cool, and beautiful, and delicate, and he had long hair. Boyfriends came and went until I met a girl who instantly became my best friend on the day we met, and someone - probably thinking we looked cosy - handed us a flyer to an LGBT event at uni that same day (I should write a fic based on this I know). She said “let’s go, for fun”, and me, remembering the goddess from high school who had inspired my desperate prayers, though, yeah, I should look into this, and said, “yeah, for giggles”. We went and I... did NOT feel at home. I’m rather femmy, and most of the women there were pretty butch, and I just... did not feel attracted or like I belonged. I also didn’t like it when the groups split up and the guys went elsewhere. We watched a lame movie about a woman discovering herself and my friend had opinions. One of which was “I don’t want to go for the drinks after, you’re prettier than any of the girls here anyway, let’s go to mine and have some tea”. I am pretty flirt blind I have to tell you that at this point. Over all the years that we were best friends we emotionally functioned as a co-dependent couple, but I never took any of those things she said, like “you are more important to me than any boy could be” seriously. Like, at all. I was pretty dense. Plain stupid, really. But I agreed with her and said, yeah no, not interested, let’s have tea at your place. All the environmental homophobia had deeply hidden me from myself. So we stayed best friends who acted a bit like a couple.

So i was completely oblivious, but it must have been around this time that I at some point woke up from a very sexy, pleasing dream, which I had not wanted to wake up from, and realized, hey, that was a girl, with delicious boobs, lush lips and beautiful curly hair I was just dreaming of. SHOCK. It was not a phase... By then I’d had sexual experiences, had grown comfortable with being a sexual being (coming from such a religious upbringing, that in itself took ages) and I could look it in the eye. Sexual desire for women. But I thought it was just that. Hmm, I apparently like thinking of sex with women. Not a hair on my head that considered a romantic relationship, building a life with a woman. It was before women could get married to eachother and have children. Ellen had come out maybe a year or two before, or three, or five, I don’t know - point is: I didn’t know any long term female couples. There were no examples.

That said, my friend and I were sometimes perceived as a couple (I will never forget the time someone congratulated us on planning to move in together, or the time someone called her my sweetheart instead of my friend (girlfriend and friend are the same word in Dutch, so I cannot imagine the times people used that word meaning something other than I took it for, or the times I said it and people took it for something else). But people really close to us thought we were an item. Except there were boyfriends, coming in and out of our lives through revolving doors. They generally didn’t bother me. I mean, mine, always delicate long haired boys, sometimes wearing makeup or girls’ clothes, DEFINITELY did not bother me. But they annoyed her. She never thought any of them was good enough for me. I didn’t think any of her boyfriends were quite good enough for her, but she was clearly also not serious about them, so they didn’t bother me. Until we made plans to move into an appartment together and she sent me househunting with her then boyfriend who was also looking for something, and he inadvertently said “i don’t need something big, I expect I’ll be spending most of my time at your apartment”. I cancelled the plans immediately and I didn’t even know why it hurt me so much.

Worst. Breakup. Ever. She was extremely upset over it as well. People who knew us well could just not get what had happened. And it took me years to figure out how I had been separating my strong emotional attachment to her very neatly from any sexual attraction I felt to the female body. Years later, I figured out that my behaviour on a beach holiday with our respective temp boyfriends, had been pure jealousy and repression. One time she wanted to bathe topless and I got completely upset. My boyfriend was upset at me “not trusting him”, her boyfriend was upset at me “being a prude”, and she was upset at me refusing to look at her and “treating her like a slut” (I wish). But really I was scared shitless. I did not want to look at her boobs. Without being in any way conscious of it, I looked away to avoid having to recognize sexual feelings. That same holiday her boyfriend at some point stood stark naked on a table. I looked away from his private parts as well, a little less though, those feelings were also not desirable considering he was her boyfriend, but - you know - more familiar, and less scary. When I heard her bumping the headboard in the room next door, I wanted to have loud sex with my boyfriend too.

And years later, I had sex with her boyfriend as well. After he’d long been dumped and replaced, after I’d cancelled the moving in plans. After she and I had tentatively started talking again. I begged him never to tell her anything about it ever. It felt like the worst betrayal, as I knew she had truly cared for him and I couldn’t bear for her to find out. I don’t think she ever did. I also never stopped feeling guilty about it. What she thought of me was the only thing I cared about.

There was a short interlude with a hot redhead I’d developed sexual desire for, still not taking the possibility of a relationship with a woman seriously, and running into her in the underwear department with exactly the same set in her hands, and thinking, oh, to buy underwear for her, wrap it, gift it to her on her birthday, and that eliciting the picture of a longer term relationship with her, and thinking, yeah for her I might not mind people thinking i was gay, I’d be proud to introduce her to my friends - an easier thought to entertain when it’s entirely hypothetical and also realizing then: uhm. People thought I’d be a lesbian, like they now think I’m straight. Perhaps this is the reason why I do not know anyone who is bisexual. I just think of them all as straight, or gay. The invisibility of people who are bisexual was a really difficult one for me. It’s SO difficult to picture coming out as bisexual when no one you know is living any kind of example. Anyway. This was a fantasy, but a useful one in making progress towards understanding myself.

Enter the man I ended up having a child with. He had been in the picture for a while. The “girlfriend” from before (that’s what I call her now) had always warned me off him, didn’t think we’d be a good match. But I really liked him, that wasn’t going away. So when it turned out he liked me too, we got together and it worked. It was our last year of uni, and after, she moved away for an internship, and I moved in with him. She visited once, which led to his confession that he hated her guts, and her confession that she hated his, followed by a list of denigrating comments about our living circumstances. She was clearly not supportive of the relationship that was everything to me so the decision was easy to cut her out. This was even worse than the first “breakup”, complete with nightmarish dreams and withdrawal symptoms. I kept dreaming about her an din those dreams we’d make up and apologize for all the horrible things we had said and done to eachother. I also kept having sexual dreams of Madonna, and a hot friend of ours. Which I’d discuss with my boyfriend. He could relate. It must have been around this time that I started truly questioning the nature of my lost relationship with the girl.

The relationship with my boyfriend was good but I did display some serious unpleasantness around... certain issues. I’d always had that with my boyfriends. I had issues with pictures of beautiful girls on their walls. Particularly if they had nice boobs. They had all seen that as inappropriate jealousy or prudishness. Jealousy it was, but not the kind they thought. To me, the realization FINALLY came as I was at a concert with my boyfriend, and he was talking appreciatively about a female violinist. I acted angry and upset. He called me a prude. I denied it. He called me jealous. I denied it. He thought I was acting like a pain in the ass anyway and said I should feel honoured, cause “She’s your type”, he said.

And my brain went “Ah”. Indeed, she is my type. I’d do her. BUT I CANNOT SAY THAT AND I HATE YOU FOR BEING ABLE TO SAY THAT. I was jealous, cause he was allowed to express desire for women, and I felt that I was not. So that was it, my aha moment during a Sparklehorse concert. He had meant ‘she looks a bit like you’, I got him completely wrong, but I am so thankful I did.

That’s unfortunately not the end of the story. But it was the turning point. I had finally understood. It was the starting point of me revisiting all the past issues, stringing all the beads I just painted for you together, making sense of my own story. I made a resolution then and there, that - whatever else - I was probably never ever going to come out, because bisexuality did not exist in my world, but I would allow myself to feel sexual desire for women. I was going to stop hating myself for it, and I was going to stop hating others for being allowed to feel something I didn’t allow myself to feel. I instantly became a much more pleasant person to everyone I know. And enjoyed my raunchy dreams about Sparklehorse’s violinist, Madonna, and a certain redhead.

On online fan forums I started migrating to LGBTQ content, it was my way of staying in touch with my community, as there was none in my real life. There was no local bi group that I knew of, and though I did attend some lesbian parties with a lesbian friend, besides her, most lesbians I met were not very welcoming. The fact that I had a boyfriend of course did not help. I should not be blaming them.

I found my people online. Started introducing myself to people I met online as bi. Started figuring out how I had been suppressing my sexual desire for women. Then when I couldn’t deny that anymore, had been separating my emotional attachment to women from sexual desire. Realized that societal heteronormativity had made it almost impossible for me to conceive of women as potential long term romantic partners. Casual sex with women I could definitely conceive of, and co-dependent strongly emotional more than friendships eclipsing all the men entering and leaving through revolving doors. But a healthy, stable, romantic, emotional and sexual partnership with a woman? That seemed impossible to me.

I worked hard to change that, and opening my mind to it, and to the idea that sometimes, you love more than one person at the same time; This has really helped me accept my feelings, myself, who I am. And as I said, it made my life a lot better. It’s gradually allowed me to develop the confidence to come out to people I trust, friends, colleagues, and to try and find, and even build bi+ communities. It’s been great to meet and talk to other people who don’t fit into narrow categories, and allow themselves not to.

Wishing you the very best on your journey; thank you for sharing with me; and always here to talk anon

#bisexuality #me #the story goes on quite a bit longer #but it's important for me to tell it #i am still trying to make sense of it #warm warm hugs anon #whatever comes to lie on the surface when you let it sit #there is a place of acceptance for you #and you are the first person who can give yourself that #Anonymous #ask

8 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #370

“breakdowns, obscenities, it’s all i wanna be”

Do you have any bad habits you aren’t working on changing? If so, do you ever think you’ll try to break them? Downloading music, for one. I really should just start using Spotify... but my iPod has over 1k songs on it and I just seriously don't want to got through all the trouble. When was the last time someone surprised you with their reaction or behaviors? Hm. I dunno. What kinds of videos do you like to watch on YouTube, if any? I watch SO many different kinds. It used to be pretty strictly let's plays, but I've definitely expanded my watching interests. Now I'm really into watching educational reptile and tarantula husbandry and keeping channels, I watch one woman who is like my weight loss idol (Jordan Shrinks, she is amazing), there's a few vloggers, I enjoy some World of Warcraft channels, and then there's a couple urban exploration guys I like. I also occasionally watch some beauty YouTubers just for their personalities and the art of it. Have you ever reached out to a crisis center for mental health support? If so, how was the experience? Yes, but they were so busy that I didn't connect with anyone before I finally gave up and ODed. When was the last time you did something you were afraid to do, and how was the outcome? Ummmm I don't really know. What is one positive thing you believe about yourself? I care a lot about other people. What is something you have been through that has made you stronger? The breakup. It brought me to the lowest of lows, where every day was a struggle to survive. It taught me I can endure through almost anything, even if it doesn't feel like I can. Other than money, what is something you wish you had more of in your life? Happiness, contentment, being in love, motivation, energy, activities, travel... There's genuinely a lot. IIs there anything that you tend to ignore for the sake of your sanity? I'm very bad at ignoring things. If something is bothering me, it's going to put up a beastly fight to be at the forefront of my mind. What is something you wish was different about your family? I wish we were closer and better off monetarily. What keeps you going lately? The hope for a happy, satisfactory future. Have you ever been in an unconventional relationship (long distance, polyamorous, same gender, age gap, etc)? if so, what challenges did this relationship present, and were they worth overcoming? I've been in a long-distance relationship with another girl. I think the hardest part was that there was not being able to physically be there for each other when one of us was really struggling, and sometimes communication was an issue, not being able to read body language when we voice chatted or hear the tone in which we "spoke" when texting, though I'm pretty sure that's an issue with any online relations. I also feel it's difficult to really build and experience your chemistry with one another when you're not physically with the other person. I still think all these challenges were worth overcoming, though. I in no way regret the relationship and got only good things out of it. What is the most unhealthy relationship (whether friendship or romantic) you’ve ever had? What made it so unhealthy? Do you still talk to each other? I'm kinda torn between Jason and Colleen, but I think my bond with Jason was ultimately more unhealthy because it went beyond love: he was an obsession. Having him with me was the only thing that brought me joy, and I lit-er-a-lly could not imagine my future without him. Like that concept just didn't exist; it was entirely impossible in my head. On his end, he failed to communicate what he was going through emotionally, which only contributed to the damage. I never knew he was struggling because of me. Without realizing it, I put so much pressure on him to make me happy, so to answer the last question, no, we don't, by his decision - and I don't blame him. Have you ever been abusive in any way? Were you able to change or make amends, or, in general, what do you think people should do to make amends in that situation? A neverending battle I have with myself is if how I treated Jason after the breakup was qualifiable as emotional abuse, specifically with messaging him things like "thanks for sending me to the ER" and shit. My therapist reassures me that it wasn't abusive because I wasn't being deliberately manipulative, but rather genuinely hurt and convinced I had been wronged and wanted him to know and acknowledge it. She agrees that it was wrong, which I entirely agree with, but sometimes, I'm still convinced I was abusive. I fucking hate answering this question, so hurrying up: I don't know if he's forgiven me. As for how others could reconcile, that's not for me to say. I know sometimes the answer is to NOT make amends and completely stay away from their abuser. It's not my right to tell others how to cope with their abuse. Have you ever forgiven someone for being abusive or allowed someone toxic back into your life? Did this person change for the better or not? My former best friend Colleen was toxic as all fuck hell, and I let her back in way too many times. No, she never changed. I honesty doubt she ever will, given her pride. When was the last time you did something “meant” for children? Do you think it’s okay for adults to do these things (ie. watch cartoons, have stuffed animals, dress in cute clothing, etc), or do you think there’s an age beyond which it becomes unacceptable - and if so, why? Hmmm... I know this was semi-recent, but whatever it was is evading me at the moment. I personally have zero issue with adults engaging in activities like that; let people do what they enjoy if they're not harming anyone, especially things as innocent as dressing how they think is cute, etc. I would far rather people "act like children" (not emotionally, you know what I mean) than run around the streets selling drugs and shit. What was the last thing to “trigger” you (as in, in a true mental health sense, I’m being serious here) and how did you cope with it? What kinds of things do you tend to find triggering? What do you do either avoid or face your triggers? When I was riding to the sleep study section of the health plaza, where the hospital is, my anxiety spiked quite a bit, recalling all of my ER stays for being suicidal. It didn't help that the psych hospital I visited most is also in that whole jumble of buildings. I dealt with it by reminding myself I was in that area for a very different reason, and Mom reassured me that where I would be staying was more like a small hotel room than a hospital bed, which was true, so that helped. Regarding the next question, I'm not gonna lie to ya, I have a stupid amount of PTSD triggers: certain music, shows, fandoms, places, smells, even tastes of certain foods. I tend to stay away from my major triggers, but I'll *sometimes* fight the tiny ones, because I want that sense of ownership of myself back. If you’re diagnosed with anything, do you feel that it accurately represents what you’re experiencing? Yes. What are some minor physical discomforts that really bug you (eyelash in your eye, a wedgie, rumpled socks, etc)? I'm VERY sensitive to feeling anything in my nose, and it leads to me needing to blow it a lot. I also can't stand having holes in my socks, but since I wear flip flops essentially everywhere, I don't experience this much. Are you ever afraid to admit to liking something because you’re afraid other people will judge you for it? What is the worst that’s ever happened as a result of you liking something different from the crowd? What about the best thing that’s come as a result of a unique interest? Y E P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nothing really bad has happened because of admitting my interests, other than hearing things along the lines of "I don't get it." It's very odd, just how horribly receptive I am to judgment about things I like when I don't recall a time where I was ridiculed for anything. But anyway, the best thing to happen from sharing interests for me is making a new friend that likes the same thing, and I will IMMEDIATELY be closer to you than most people I associate with once you've helped me past that vulnerable spot of mine. Have you ever remained good friends with an ex? Yeah. Do you have a negative view of mentally ill people, or are you mentally ill yourself? Do you ever call others crazy, insane, etc? Do you ever call yourself those things? I'm mentally ill and empathize heavily with those who suffer themselves. I absolutely do not have a negative look on mental health sufferers; we don't choose to be victims. I'm definitely not a big fan of abusing terms like "insane," because I've fucking been there, and it's not a term to take lightly. I've thrown 'em around before, but I try to avoid it. I don't call myself any of those things nowadays, but in the deepest trench of my depression and PTSD, I honest to God think I fit the definition of "insane." Does it bother you to have people comment on what you’re eating, or do you not care? What are some comments that would bother you, if any? Do you ever comment on what other people are eating or make assumptions about their intakes? YES. JUST DON'T FUCKING COMMENT. I get EXTREMELY self-conscious when my mom does this sometimes when I occasionally need a small snack to hold me out overnight, and I absolutely never will say something to someone else. It's just rude, imo. Well, I guess if someone was really destroying their health and I was close to them, I would out of concern and be very gentle, but when regarding most people? I'm keeping my thoughts to my damn self. Do you like Redbull? I've never tried it and don't want to. I'm not an energy drink fan. Who is the last person you spent money on? My mom. I remember I bought us fast food when we were out once. What are you looking forward to in the next 4 days? G U Y S!!!!!!!!! I GET MY TATTOO TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!! :'''') Also on the same day, I start my TMS therapy, which I have high hopes for. Have you ever gone a whole day without eating? No. Do you sometimes use your music player to help you fall asleep? No, but I did that for years back in middle school. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you shave your legs more than once a week? Haaaaaaaaa. If you could cuddle with anyone right now, who would you pick? I really wish I could cuddle my late pup Teddy again. :/ I was thinking about that recently. Are you tanned? God no. I never am. Do you try to wear dresses whenever you can? No. I wish I was in a shape where I was comfortable wearing spring dresses again... I had this floral skull one in high school that I adored. Are you wearing something that belongs to someone else? No. Have you ever been called a bitch? Yes. Did you like the person you last kissed when you kissed them? I loved her. Who did you have a meaningful conversation with last? Sara. Do you have feelings for someone? Yeah, but they're like... on a leash, you could say. I don't let 'em run free and wild, and I know that even if nothing comes of those feelings again, it's fine. Are you trying to avoid liking somebody at the moment? I think Jason will be this answer for a very long time, if not forever, given the trauma and all. I have to remind myself frequently that I love his memory, not him, because I don't even know him anymore. It's been YEARS since we spoke. Just like I've changed incredibly, I'm sure he has, too. If you saw life in black & white, would that be okay with you? I mean, it would suck, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. When you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, what kinds of things are you likely to do? How often do you find you have trouble sleeping? I do exactly what you shouldn't do and get back on the laptop. I'd say I most often get on WoW and refresh the auctions I have up because that tends to tire me out because I do that shit manually to avoid any addon mishaps, and I have a looooot to put up as a gold farmer. What was the last lengthy packet you filled out? Something to see if I qualified for a sleep study. Are you a patient person? What is one way you have a lot of patience? What about not very much patience at all? I am NOT patient, at least regarding more trivial things, like sitting in waiting rooms. I do have patience though with other people with more serious things, like getting someone to open up to me. At what time during the day do you tend to feel your best? What about the worst? When I first wake up. It's a "fresh start" and it's nice to feel rested. Plus, I open a fresh can of cold soda as my "coffee" for lack of better word, haha. I'm in my worst mood probably late afternoon/early evening, by which time I am incredibly bored and just dulled down. What was the last thing you did that you wish you could take back or do differently? The last thing... I dunno. How frequently do you stay overnight somewhere that isn’t your own home? What things do you miss about home when you’re away? Do you tend to get homesick easily? Pretty much never. I do miss my room and its privacy when I'm away from home, but I wouldn't say I get homesick all that easily, so long as I have WiFi, haha. Do you tend to eat more in the beginning of the day or at night? Do you have a tendency to snack when you’re bored? If so, what kinds of snacks do you normally go for? Not necessarily the beginning of the day, but definitely more than at night. I am BAD about snacking when I'm extremely bored, but at the very least I'm conscious enough to try and find something semi-healthy, like granola bars, fruits, a scoop of peanut butter, but I also sometimes just eat like... a slice of bread or a tortilla. Horrible choice. I'm a carb fiend and I hate it. If you have any dietary restrictions, do you ever miss foods you can’t have? If not, what’s something you haven’t had for a long time that you wish you could eat again? I thankfully don't have any. I've been craving cheesecake like a madman lately. :< The spicy shrimp fritas from Olive Garden, too. Is there something you still can’t do even though you’re an adult or might be expected to do this thing? I don't have my license, and my driver's permit is even expired. I'm terrified of driving. I also don't have a job, and I can't cook. When was the last time you congratulated someone? Were you happy for them, indifferent, jealous? Uhhh I think someone on Facebook had a baby. Of course I was happy for them. What was the last milestone you reached in your life (graduating, buying a car, starting a family, etc)? What milestone are you going for next, if any? Um... I haven't reached a true milestone in years. Hell, I don't think since I started recovery from the breakup. Do you enjoy getting comments or messages? How likely are you to leave comments or messages for other people? Yeah, it makes me feel cared about. It really depends on the platform on how much I leave other people comments, and I'm extremely shy about messaging, but I'll do it sometimes. When are you most likely to scream (either out of fright, anger, or whatever)? Do you scream or yell often? When was the last time someone screamed at you (or in your presence)? Frustration, for sure. I've screamed into a pillow more than once. I definitely don't yell or especially scream often. I'm sure the last person to yell at me was Mom, but I don't remember about what. What would you say is your STRONGEST emotion? Maybe not the most frequent, but the most intense? And what emotion do you feel most weakly, even if you might feel it more often? I'd saaaay... maybe love. When I love something/someone, I love HARD. I think I experience joy the weakest; it's very muted for me. And lastly, what are you listening to? Is this a band you listen to a lot "The Heretic Anthem" by Slipknot. I wouldn't say I listen to them a lot, but I have been more than usual lately.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''the heretic anthem'' by slipknot

3 notes · View notes

luciferpens · 3 years

Text

Loved You Once || Aurora & Kass ft Zoey

What: Another accidental run in -- except this time... more people get hurt. Where: Poseidon Beach When: March 25, 2021 Who: Aurora, Kass (@kassmeifyoucan), ft Zoey (@icarialex) TW: Abuse, death, breakups, lies,

Pacing never seemed to actually help any kind of situation but here she was.... Pacing. She was nervous, and not just because of everything that had been going on as of late. No, it was also due to the fact that she had planned out something special. A date. An actual date where she called it a date and they both knew it was a date and—look. It was a date. Granted, she hadn’t exactly told Zoey that it was a date. She’d just said it was a surprise but... Maybe part of the surprise would be that it was actually a date? To her nerves and utter horror, Zoey wouldn’t be off of work for another half hour, maybe less depending on how long it took her to close up shop. A whole half hour for her to be alone with her thoughts. To worry over every detail. The campfire was lit, the guitar and the food basket and blankets were hidden behind a large piece of driftwood. The blonde would be none-the-wiser! It was perfect! Until it wasn’t. Because there she was. And no, not Zoey. Aurora. What the hell was she doing walking on her beach? ....Okay so it wasn’t her beach. But still. The fuck. Without missing a beat, Kassandra crossed her arms over her chest and called out to the other woman. “Um... Hey?”

—

Aurora was not used to Island life or Island time, everyone here seemed to move at a different speed, a slower one, a less get up and go sort of speed. And when you come from the chaos of LA and the FBI anything other than 100 seemed like a snail's pace. Though…. She was slowly learning to enjoy it. Those she met were slowly convincing her to take things a bit slower and enjoy the view. So she decided to take their advice and enjoy the view of the ocean. She slipped out of her shoes and laced them over her fingers as she started to slowly walk up the coast line, just letting her mind wonder and flutter between all the things going on. Running into Kass and then running into Juliette, she really should just leave. Leave them both to their lives without her showing up and being a bomb. There was so much to be done too… with Jane being taken she needed to keep her safe and then close the file; there were still other files on her desk back home, other people she needed to find; other things she needed to do -- and yet she couldn’t leave Icaria yet. Not until she was 100% sure Jane would be safe and had everything she needed here. So she was stuck. Stuck with these thoughts, this place and the anxiety of knowing every moment here meant so many other things she wasn’t ready to deal with. Lost in thought she almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a familiar voice. Her hand, not the one holding the shoes, flew to her chest. “Oh -- hey.” She said with a tiny, tiny smile but as the tone of Kass’ voice registered in her head it faltered and she glanced away, “I uh -- didn’t even see you there, I can go back” she tossed her thumb over her shoulder indicating she could turn back around and walk away, give her space. “I hate to intrude or -- anything.”

—

"Its a beach, Aurora. You're allowed to be on it. I just... Sorry, I guess I find it funny and also kind of like the universe is.." Kassandra sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment before she held up her hands in a surrendering motion. "Look. You can be wherever you want. I'm not going to force you to leave. It's just hard seeing you. Logically I know it shouldn't be because you're not even.... Nevermind." Kassandra breathed deeply for a moment, trying to calm herself down. The good part of this whole interaction was that Zoey wasn't here, something she was super incredibly thankful for. That would be a whole can of worms that she didn't think she was ready to explain. Mainly because Zoey, Gods bless her, was the sweetest human bean to ever exist. She'd probably be so nice that her and Aurora would become friends and -- Nope. No. Do not think like that. It was then that she realized she'd been stuck in her own head and that she should probably say something that came off as completely awful. "Enjoying the weather?" No. Not that, you absolute fucking disaster of a human-ish being.

—

"It is." Aurora said with a slow nod, she wiggled her toes into the sand trying to use it to ground herself and not get upset. She was normally so good at keeping her cool and not getting emotional, but apparently that could be thrown out the window when it came to her ex-girlfriend. Clearing her throat she tilted her head to one side. "I'm not even?" she asked eyebrow shooting upward rather curious to know where Kass's mind was taking that sentence. But when no answer came quickly she realized Kass was lost in her mind and just cleared her throat hoping the noise would snap Kass out of her thoughts.

"The weather?" She asked glancing up to the sky, the ocean then to Kassandra again, "It's a nice difference from the places I've been lately. Not having to wear a ton of layers is -- a nice change of pace.”

—

Small talk. She could do small talk. On a beach. With her girlfriend not girlfriend planning on showing up at any minute. While she was talking to her ex girlfriend. Of course, totally fine. This was normal, right? Yeah, super normal. "You're not even gay." She finished her earlier thought, hoping that Aurora would understand. "So it's not like I should be upset about that. I'm not. But that's neither here nor there. Glad you're liking the weather though. It's a lot different from Portland." Kassandra sighed, rubbing the back of her neck before taking a cautious step closer to Aurora. "Look, I'm sorry. About my behavior since you've seen me, I mean. I'm not sorry for past me because honestly... Past me is still hurting which means... Present me is also hurting." She could slap herself. "I don't know what I'm saying. You make me forget how to function and it's annoying the absolute shit out of me." Kassandra put out into the open in probably the most honest thing she's said to Aurora in a long time. "But I'll manage.... So uh. You and Brandon? Still together?" Saying his name left a bitter taste in her mouth but she pressed on, wondering if she'd genuinely felt happy for her ex or not.

—

Aurora slowly tilted her head not understanding why in the world Kass would think she was straight but as Kass continued to talk the pieces fell back into place and she slowly nodded her head letting out a huff of a laugh. "Let me -- first clear up some misconceptions." She said running her free hand through her hair and tossing it to one side. "I am not gay, this is true, but I'm also not straight. I'm demi -- well, pansexual. Have been since we were children." Aurora swung her arms behind her back and looped her fingers together. "Two, you never need to apologize to me about your past or what happened between us. I know I fucked us up and hurt you and I take full ownership of that. Yell at me if you need to, tell me you hate me or slap me if it will make you feel better. I deserve it." She shrugged. She honestly knew she deserved it, she knew she had broken Kass when she did what she did; and while she would have done it differently knowing what she knew now -- she knew that in the moment young Aurora was doing the best she could to protect herself. "As for Brandon, no. We --" She shook her head, "Weren't ever seriously dating, after we were," she motioned between them with a free hand " he basically -- was a beard and he knew it, I knew it. It was a safety thing." She shrugged. That sounded bad, but Brandon knew something bad was happening in her house and he just -- never questioned and did what he could to give her safe spaces to come to instead of being at home where her mother was.

—

She wasn't meaning to see red, but here she was. Listening to every word that came out of Aurora's mouth and letting it cut her deep, just like her words had when they were sixteen. "You're fucking kidding me." Her arms crossed over her chest, staring incredulously at her ex. "Do you have any fucking idea how much internalized homophobia I felt because of my mom? Because of you? I get that you couldn't have told your mom. I fucking understand. But you could have told me. I spent the next two fucking years of my life hating who I was because of who I loved." Kassandra felt sick to her stomach, taking a few staggering steps away from Aurora as she bent over, hands moving to her knees as she gulped in air. Before Aurora could potentially make a move towards her, she held up a hand. "Don't you fucking dare come near me. I can't... You.. He was a beard. And you're..." Kassandra swallowed thickly, wishing the bile away. "You're pan. So you..." Green eyes tore upwards, looking at Aurora with such a broken gaze. "What was I to you? Was I some kind of fucking joke to you? An experiment? Because clearly whatever we were didn't fucking matter if you couldn't tell me the truth. You let me believe that I wasn't..." Tears flooded her vision, nausea ramping up in her belly. "Am I worthless to everyone I try to care about?"

—

Aurora felt her heart ripping from her chest. Why she still had it she wasn't sure; her heart had been ripped out -- well now three times. Twice by the same woman. It was a useless item, only seemed to cause her pain. Gods she should just go back to Quantico. Why was she still fucking on this gods forsaken island? Seeing Kass crying, seeing her in such pain made Aurora want to throw up. She never meant to hurt her. "I --" she shook her head, "I don't think you totally understand why couldn't tell my mom, why I had to do what I did." she swallowed, looking away and stopping herself from moving to comfort her ex love. "I'm so, so so, fucking sorry about it all, about hurting you, about -- all of it, Kass, I really am." She sucked in her lips tears welling in her eyes. "You are -- were the one person on this planet I love--d more than anything" She caught herself caught the present tense and while sure, it was still true she didn't need to hurt Kass more. "I couldn't tell anyone the truth. I didn't even tell my own father until I was already 18 and about to graduate highschool. I didn't tell a SOUL about all the abuse I suffered through until I was 23 and -- honestly since then you're the only other person I've even mentioned it to." she shook her head thrusting her hand down to her side before stepping forward, anger in her movements but determination as well. "Don't you fucking dare Kassandra." She didn't curse often, but here she was, cursing and angry too. "You are not in any way worthless Kass. I didn't -- break up with you because I didn't love you. I loved you so much that I had to to keep my crazy mother from literally killing one of us. You have never -- ever been worthless and I am so sorry I ever made you think you were."

—

All Zoey had to go off of was a cryptic text from Kass telling her to meet the woman at the beach after she got off from work. Typically she’d worry about not having her bathing suit on her that day, but since the brunette didn’t like getting in the water, she didn’t worry so much. Zoey would rather spend her time with Kassandra than swim anyway. She could do the latter anytime. Still, she wasn’t used to being antsy to close shop. The artist loved her work, but she’d be lying if she didn’t love spending time with the mysterious and sometimes juxtaposing woman as well. When five o’clock finally came around, Zoey closed everything up and then began her short walk to the beach. She checked in with Noreen on the way to make sure everything was okay at the Inn, and then followed Kassandra’s directions on which street entrance to take that was closest to her destination. The blonde was so engrossed in her phone that she didn’t notice how close she was to her desired spot until she heard Kass yelling. The pain in her tone caused pain in her heart, but Zoey stood back and waited. It seemed important, and the illustrator didn’t know if she should interfere.

She had no idea who the other woman was until she heard her mess up between love and loved. Then, Zoey’s heart stopped. Aurora. That’s who it had to be. Not being ready or able to hear what Kass’ reaction to that would be, she turned back around and walked away. Zoey wouldn’t go far because she’d seen the effort Kassandra had put into setting everything up in the background. So, she found a nearby bench, sat down, and did what she always did when she was upset or anxious. Zoey began to sketch.

—

Her brain had turned off as the rage and nausea consumed her, Kassandra staring at Aurora as she looked at her with that unreadable expression. It all shifted in her face when she stumbled over her words, stumbled over that word. Her eyes narrowed, she wanted to challenge that. Because no. No. Aurora didn't fucking get to do that to her. Not after a decade. But before she could even get out a word edgewise, the other woman was rounding on her. Kass visibly flinched, taking a step back as she wrapped her arms around her torso. It was then that she heard footsteps from behind her, causing her to turn around to see Zoey's retreating form. No.... No no no. Fuck. She wanted to go off after Zoey but she knew she had to deal with the woman who was right here, in front of her. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to come back into my life and stumble over that word, Aurora. I loved you. Loved. Past tense. I thought... I thought that a part of me would always love you. But I don't know how I could ever..." Love someone who hid the truth from me. She couldn't even say it, realizing how much of a hypocrite that would make her. "You were my first love. And I want to one day not hate you. But you don't get to insinuate that you still love me. Not after... Not after everything. Not after twelve fucking years." A tear fell down a cheek, Kassandra quickly wiping it away. "I need to go because that woman you saw walk away? Unlike you..." She locked their gazes, taking another step backwards in the direction of where Zoey had gone. "I can't let a good thing slip through my fingers." Kassandra turned to walk towards where she'd seen the blonde head off to, stopping for a moment to turn her head just enough so it was barely looking over her shoulder. "I need time.. Time to process what you've told me. Just please don't... Don't hurt me again." And with that, she walked away.

—

Seeing the flinch made Aurora recoil, to fold in on herself. She never wanted to be scary to people she cared about; those she was hunting for work, sure 100% she'd be fine being seen as threatening. But Kass? No she didn't want to do that. She took a couple stumbling steps backwards as Kassandra spoke. There was a stab of pain in her chest. She knew better than to not calculate her every word, when she let her mouth run she got hurt. This was just more proof of that. More proof she needed to slow down and think before she spoke. As Kassandra continued, as she laid into her, saying she didn't know how she could ever her stomach dropped. She didn't connect the dots, didn't totally realize there was more to be said and instead took it as a sentence. A statement. Kass, in Aurora's mind, didn't know how she could ever have loved her. Right. This -- this was. She deserved that. She didn't deserve to say the things she did, even if some part of it still felt true to her. Nope. The muscles tightened in her jaw as her fists clenched and tears threatened to spill. Another jab as she mentioned the other woman; some blonde who had walked up looked confused, hurt and then walked away. She just nodded and watched as Kass started to walk off. She was unmovable. Frozen as still as a statue as Kass slowed for a moment to say one last thing. She didn't look up, didn't dare even breathe. She waited a few moments until she could hear Kass's steps fade and she finally let out a breath. With that breath the tears came, the anger flowed and she felt an intense level of fear and hatred towards herself. She turned on a dime, kicked the sand creating a small cloud before she walked off, eyes down.... only to stop ten feet forward and see what Kass had been hiding when she first walked up. Oh. She had messed up a date with -- that blonde girl and now -- she felt even fucking worse. She slipped her shoes on and started to run, exercise being the only thing to clear her mind.

#discord #Aurora #Kass #Zoey #Aurora: c: Kass #Aurora: c: Zoey #You Broke Me First

2 notes · View notes

beatricebidelaire · 4 years

Note

🔥 ernest and bertrand perhaps please? (Love your blog btw)

(thank you! this got a bit long so i’ll put most of it under the cut)

“So, you and Beatrice are leaving,” Ernest said. The two of them were standing on the balcony outside his office. “After the wedding.”

“Yes,” Bertrand said, his voice calm and even. “We are.”

Ernest looked thoughtful. He took his time surveying the city streets. It was a busy day, the traffic, mixed with horses and cars, flowed underneath the cloudy gray sky. Then he turned slightly, leaning against the railings and offered Bertrand a smile. “So, you’re willing to leave VFD for her, but not for me,” he concluded, keeping his voice pleasant.

Bertrand’s expression did not falter. “I don’t recall you asking me to,” he pointed out.

“Fair point,” Ernest agreed, his tone cordial but his gaze challenging. “But you wouldn’t have done it anyway even if I had asked … or would you?”

Bertrand shrugged. “You know I’m only ever going to answer that, no, I wouldn’t have.” Because even if I would have, there’s no use in letting you regret - or pretend to regret - that you never asked.

“There you go,” Ernest said lightly. “You wouldn’t have.” He casually met Bertrand’s eyes and held his gaze.

Bertrand didn’t look away. “My apologies,” he said. There’s some sincerity in his voice now, not too much, just enough to convey an acknowledgement.

Ernest waved it away. “Nothing to apologize for,” he said magnanimously. “I’d like to know why though.”

Bertrand studied him. “Well, leaving VFD for you actually meant something different, doesn’t it? It would’ve meant switching sides and joining the firestarters, which I’m not willing to do. It wouldn’t have meant running away from all of these.”

“Because you think I’m not going to agree to actually leaving and not coming back?” Ernest challenged.

Bertrand raised an eyebrow. “Would you have agreed?”

A pause.

“No,” Ernest conceded. “And you know why.”

Bertrand did. It would’ve complicated many things, put his brothers and his own life in danger, and ruined the current balance of the schism. There had never really been a choice for him. “Hobson’s choice,” he murmured.

Ernest smiled faintly. “Yeah.” He leaned forwards against the railings and sighed. “I do envy how you two could just leave, VFD’s just willing to let you go like that? If I knew it’s that easy - maybe I should’ve just waited - ” He whirled around to look directly at Bertrand. “You know, we never properly fought. After the breakup. Well, not before the breakup either. And of course, it’s even debatable if it counts as a breakup in the first place but - we never fought.”

Bertrand looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

Ernest’s lips pulled up, “Don’t you think we should?”

Bertrand tilted his head slightly. “In the name of closure?”

“Maybe,” Ernest said. “I mean, it’s always been fun with you. Pleasant. Enjoyable. And I liked that. Like that still. But you’re leaving, Bertrand.”

“Let me guess,” Bertrand said. “There’s no need to worry about not leaving on good terms if we fought, since we might never see each other again?”

“Exactly,” Ernest agreed. “Plus, it feels … not real without a proper fight. Like it’s never meant to be a serious thing. Like neither of us cared enough to fight.”

It hadn’t meant to be a serious thing. That had been what they’d agreed upon. A fling. Casual, fun, no fights, staying friends after the breakup.

“Which,” Ernest continued. “Was what we intended, so there’s no problem there. But we also chose not to fight because we worried that would ruin the possibility of being friends again - but you’re leaving. We don’t have to worry about that.”

Bertrand arched an eyebrow. “So you want a proper fight, is that it?”

A smile danced across Ernest’s lips briefly. “Are you refusing?”

Bertrand glanced at the city streets for a moment. “Very clever,” he murmured. “I suppose you have a topic in mind. I wouldn’t mind listening to what you have to say.”

“Ever the gentleman, you are,” Ernest said wistfully. “You make it very hard to fight with you.” He paused. “But since you don’t mind listening, I’ll go ahead.”

Bertrand nodded, and Ernest opened his mouth again before closing it. He frowned, deep in thought, as if to prepare himself, and then spoke again. “I’m jealous, actually. Not so much about the idea of you marrying Beatrice, but the idea that you two get to leave VFD - just like that. Easy, no repercussions. You get to be free. I wish I can say I’m not jealous but -” He drew a sharp breath.

Free wasn’t completely accurate, but it was close enough - or so Bertrand hoped it would be - so Bertrand didn’t correct him. The truth was a little more complicated.

VFD didn’t let volunteers go easily, especially not in the current climate. But he’d long wished to leave - and apparently, so had Beatrice. The opera night and the darts shot from their hands left a mark, but that really was just the last straw that broke the camel’s back. They both knew leaving wouldn’t have been easy, not without a good reason, not while they could still contribute to their side of the schism.

Beatrice and he ended up concocting a plan, that even if they couldn’t completely leave, it would help them distance themselves from the more dangerous and more morally questionable missions for a while. With Beatrice’s eloquence and charm and his well known good student reputation, they’d managed to convince the VFD higher ups that at the rate things were going, there wouldn’t be enough volunteers left to raise children who could become the next generation’s volunteers. Sure, they could always recruit outside of the organization, but experience had shown that in the times of the schism, children recruited from outside of the organization, children whose parents weren’t VFD, were more likely to defect to the other side than those from old VFD families. It would be useful to have two volunteers to “pretend” to leave VFD, raise children outside it but teaching them important VFD skills, and eventually provide the organization with useful new recruits.

At least, that was what they had told the higher ups. Of course, it’s also just an excuse for now, to cut ties because some days Bertrand felt he’s quite close to a line that once crossed, everything would change. If he kept going, some day he’s not going to be able to take all these. And that day was getting closer. It’s a delaying tactic, to catch a break for a while.

It was also a lie - or rather, the part about the children was. They would have to keep up pretenses and actually teach the children important skills, just in case someone was spying from a distance. But he and Beatrice both agreed that they didn’t actually want their children to join VFD - at least, not a VFD that was like this. But maybe it would change for the better in a few years, maybe in a decade it would be an organization they could accept. Or maybe VFD would cease to exist in a decade. And worse case, they would move away and go into hiding and get new identities. It’s a lie that they hoped would buy them at least a couple of years. Hopefully even a decade. Maybe even forever, but he knew the chances were quite low and he shouldn’t get his hopes up high.

He and Beatrice had worked well as a team before, and now they’re going to continue working as a team, only for a very different kind of challenge. They both wanted out, and marriage and kids were a perfect excuse. Plus, they liked each other well enough, had been friends long enough, and respected and understood each other. It’s not love yet, but they’d agreed that one day it might be. And they dreamed of kids, too, kids who could be raised in a very different environment than the one they had both been raised. Sometimes one could only choose the practical choice and hoped for the best. This was never a fairy tale, but a carefully concocted plan to earn a certain kind of freedom away from the organization.

He didn’t explain all these to Ernest. He’d always liked Ernest, but heart to heart conversations were rather not their thing. He could only offer an apology. “I’m sorry,” Bertrand said. “I know it’s not fair.”

Ernest smiled bitterly. “Not fair at all.” He looked away. “I think I hate you, just a little. Well, not really, but I’m so angry that you get to leave. I don’t have that choice. I never had that choice.”

“I know,” Bertrand repeated. “I’m sorry.” Because what else could he say?

“You’re so understanding,” Ernest muttered. “So damn polite. Aren’t you supposed it’s my fault that I impulsively switched sides? That I only have myself to blame for being stuck in the current position?”

“That’s not what I think, though,” Bertrand said, which was the truth. It had always been far more complicated than that.

Ernest huffed, exasperated at how amicable Bertrand was, but then he deflated. “Do you love her?” He asked.

Bertrand froze. The only correct answer was of course “yes”, it was what he and Beatrice agreed on to pretend. It was necessary for the marriage, for the wedding all their friends would still attend. But he didn’t like lying to Ernest. For all they were never completely honest with each other, they usually did it by being deflective, by redirecting the topic to side step the questions artfully. Outright lies were never their style, it was an unspoken agreement but it was there. Perhaps he didn’t have to continue following it after their breakup, but a part of him still wished to.

Ultimately, though, the current plan with Beatrice came first, came before anything, including nostalgia brought by ex boyfriends. Still, he supposed he did love Beatrice as a friend, as a mission partner, as a long term partner who was about to go hand in hand with him into this new challenge. He couldn’t deflect this question, because then Ernest would realize he’s hiding something. But Ernest never specified which kind of love, so there’s a loophole there. “Yes,” he said, calm and sincere, if only a beat too late.

The moment of hesitation was too long, his posture was too tense for a minute, and Ernest’s previous frown shifted into a curious expression, and then a thoughtful one, until realization dawned on his face. He looked amused, now. “Aha,” he said softly. “So it’s like that.”

This isn’t good, Bertrand thought. He considered his options on how to bluff his way out of this one.

“Don’t worry,” Ernest smirked. “I’ll keep your secret. Won’t even tell my brothers. I always approve of people plotting against and lying to VFD.”

Bertrand considered denying, perhaps pretending that he didn’t know what Ernest was talking about. But one wrong move could make Ernest decide to not keep this a secret, and he couldn’t afford that. Plus, all that weird not lying unspoken agreement loyalty thing was getting in the way. He should be less sentimental than this but unfortunately he wasn’t.

“In that case, thank you. I appreciate it.”

Ernest smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Not a problem.” He moved close to Bertrand at a fast speed, and gave him a quick peck on the lips - the first (and the only, the last) one after their breakup. “Happy marriage, darling.”

send two characters and 🔥 for an argument scene between them

#asoue #ernest denouement #bertrand baudelaire #beatrice baudelaire #answered #jcbookworm #sbg x arguments

13 notes · View notes