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#Really each other first true friends and no one has ever brought so much joy in their life
dedahblog · 1 year
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About the "ichiruki being BFF" debate
Blech fandom is a joke.
(Just some thoughts I wanted to get off my chest. Basically me rambling)
People are calling Ichigo/Rukia just friends or BFF as an attempt of restraining how much they mean to each other while IRs fans are getting triggered every time writing essays as if this is the worst insult ever made.
Like ... seriously ?
Let's be logical. Is it really worth having a debate about ? Is the opinion of fans of sh1tty pairings like RR and IH really relevant ?
I'm not trying to roast them or anything (ok ... maybe a little) but their standards are pretty low : getting this euphoric when their only ship canon validation is porking. All you have to do to invalidate their crap is tearing off the last two pages where the porking products appear and that's it. Nothing to see.
I block / don't interact with anyone of those guys not because I'm a "salty IR fan". Actually I loved Blech much more than IR. And God knows how much I love IR. If anything, I'm more of a Blech salty fan and I don't want to discuss anything related to Blech with people happily dancing on its ashes claiming "they won".
Is the opinion of those who are euphoric about an ending where Yuzzu is molesting her nephew that important ?
People who think a final chapter that ended with a random character yelling "whaaat " has any credibility ?
Or people who can't read crystal clear facts
Juha back : I will come back when you feel happy Ichigo !!
then Akon: wow this is the first time JB reaistu appeared in 10 years.
What about Porking Product Number 2 idolizing Mayuri who killed and tortured innocent souls ? (as mentioned in the hell chapter)
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As for their passive aggressive way of insulting IR fans, let's just set it straight
Rukia and Ichigo trust each other like no other since day 1.
They are each other's salvation from their guilt of not saving their loved ones (Kaien and Masaki)
No one has ever made Rukia happy like Ichigo since Kaien's death and the same with Ichigo since his mother's murder.
When he didn't believe he could defeat his hollow, it's neither Rukia kicking his butt nor her pep talk that gave Ichigo courage. He regained hope when Rukia told him how highly she thinks of him.
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And Rukia trusts Ichigo so much that she has never shown her crying face aka her vulnerabilty to anyone but him.
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Ichigo takes so much pride in being a shinigami because he places high value on Rukia's ideals
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When she thought she was going to die in the SS arc, Ichigo was the reason Rukia cried when she said goodbye because it's Ichigo's existence that brought hope to her life.
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There is no other relationship in this manga that had such a mutual positive impact on each other
Calling them best friends isn't really an insult, if a best friend is someone who helped you have faith in yourself, regain hope, learn from your trauma and move forward.
If that's how they define best friends, then Reji and Orhime are not even worthy of being called their friends at that point
".....w-well a-at least they f***ed !!".
.....RR and IH fans please enjoy your canon to its fullest. Kub0 had granted you the power of being associated with that crap till the end of time. Be blessed by this almighty gift .
Your low self worth is second to none
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poeticpascal · 9 months
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Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)
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Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.
Word count: 10.6k
Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!
A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖
Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.
The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.
Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.
It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.
Like losing someone you really, really love.
Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.
You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.
And there aren’t even any cows.
That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.
So when she left, that hurt. 
Because she found purpose.
Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.
Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.
It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.
It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.
And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.
But it still goddamn hurts.
About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.
You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.
But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.
Which only calls for one thing.
“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.
“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.
“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.
“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”
She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.
“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.
“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”
You had a feeling she’d say that. 
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.
She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.
She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.
Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.
Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”
“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go. 
“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.
You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.
She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.
She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet. 
“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”
You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”
Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”
“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”
She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.
“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before. 
You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.
“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.
“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”
Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”
You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”
She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement. 
“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.
“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.” 
“Will you really come with me?” 
You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.
“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.
“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?
Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’
You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.
“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.
“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions. 
She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.
He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.
“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.
The memory changes, then.
It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs. 
Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.
“51 Mulberry Road
Travis County
Austin, Texas
Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”
Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…
You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”
“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”
Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”
You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”
She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”
A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.
“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.
“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”
She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness. 
Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.
The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed. 
You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.
“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies. 
“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”
Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”
Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’. 
“Well then, which one, babygirl?”
She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.
“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat. 
“She’s just like you, Daddy.”
Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”
Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!” 
“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”
Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”
He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.
“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her. 
“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”
“Keep getting memories, huh?” 
You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts. 
More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.
Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.
She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.
“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”
She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window. 
She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back. 
‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’
She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.
“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.” 
She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood. 
“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road. 
“Are you nervous?”
“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?
“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”
You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.
“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.
You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.
Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.
And there she is. Sarah.
She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.
“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression. 
You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”
You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”
She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade. 
Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.
“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”
Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face. 
“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”
Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.
But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’
“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.
“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.
“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.
“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.
You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes. 
“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.
Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?” 
His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.
“No, Dad, but-“
He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?” 
He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.
“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them. 
“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”
Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.
That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.
But it really doesn’t feel good right now.
You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.
You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears. 
“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.
Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”
And that makes you really smile.
You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.
“Is it true? Are you really… her?” 
Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.
“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.
“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands. 
“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“
Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“
“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.” 
You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.
Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”
“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.
“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.
“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”
“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”
You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”
“Oh.” It’s all she says.
“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.
“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”
You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.” 
You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face. 
You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”
You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.
“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it. 
“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”
You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”
You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.
You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.
Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.
You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.
There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.
“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.
“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.
Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”
You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.
You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”
You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”
She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.
“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?” 
She must see the slight panic in your eyes,  as she quickly scrambles to reassure you. 
“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”
You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.
“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!” 
You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least. 
He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.
His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.
You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.
“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.
“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.
He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.
“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.
He finally speaks again after a long span of silence. 
“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”
You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.
“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care. 
Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.
“How do you get back?”
“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.
You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”
He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you. 
You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.
“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.
“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him. 
He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”
You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly. 
“What do you do? In Barbieland?”
“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.
“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.
“So is that, like, on a ranch?” 
He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.
You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you. 
“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”
He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.
“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.
You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after. 
“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.
But then he laughs.
It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.
You tell him as much.
“You have a pretty smile.”
He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.
“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.
And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. 
“So do you.”
It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry. 
You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before. 
But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway. 
It’s powerful.
You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.
He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.
And things are good after that day. Really good.
The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.
Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.
And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.
Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room. 
“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.
You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.
“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further. 
“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”
You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.
She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”
You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.
“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.
Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you. 
You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.
“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.
Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.
“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers. 
“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.
You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face. 
He doesn’t fight his, either. 
You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.
Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it. 
Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion. 
“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.
“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two. 
“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”
You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.
“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.
“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.
But then again, people can change. 
“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.
“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”
He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.
You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”
“Yeah.”
You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.
You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.
It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.
You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.
“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”
“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.
You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.” 
You look at him. “Love.”
He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.
The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice. 
Until you put your foot in it.
“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.
You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”
Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”
You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.
You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.
My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.
But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.
“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”
He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.
“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”
His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry. 
“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart. 
That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.
You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”
“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.
“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”
He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.
You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”
“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.
“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.” 
That really, really hurts.
And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.
“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”
He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.
“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”
Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”
“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.” 
He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard. 
He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.
So you do what he said. You leave.
You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”
She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face. 
You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.
Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.
“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.
“I have to.” 
You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.
“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”
Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”
She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”
Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.
“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.
You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.
So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?
“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.
She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.
And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.
There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.
You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.
A world that isn’t the same to you now.
You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.
“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”
You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.
And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.
“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”
“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.
He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”
You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.
“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”
“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.
“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.
“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.
“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”
There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own. 
“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”
You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.
“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”
You look into his eyes. You know he means it. 
And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment. 
You kiss him.
You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.
When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined. 
“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.
“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.
You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.
You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.
You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.
You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-
“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen
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junosmindpalace · 1 year
Text
unrequited love (& other clichés)
☾ ft. tetsuro kuroo
☾ sfw. kuroo starts seeing you in a new light.
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you and tetsuro have been friends for a long time.
so much so that he knows you like the back of his hand. he knows how to approach you on your darkest days, to know the phases of your life that you’re most embarrassed about. he knows what makes you tick, what motivates you to get up in the morning, your favorite shows and movies.
the opposite is true too, because you always know what to say when it came to his volleyball club, you know his routines by heart and when not to interfere with them. you know which of his guilty pleasures to hold over his head as blackmail in case you ever needed to (but sometimes indulging in them with him as well). 
something shifted in the way kuroo viewed all the things he knew about you one day. over time, he started noticing how he he looks for you more often than not in the crowds of his games, that your little mannerisms you were more than often unaware of made him flustered, that the friendly touches on his arm or shoulder sent shivers down his spine. 
you and tetsuro never really understood love.
more like never really understood the kind of love poets wrote about, the cliches, and whatever else it was that people seemed to find so endearing. the two of you look on at the students in your school who cuddle close together, who stare at each other as if they were each other's entire world, who whisper sappy words into each other's ears and just couldn’t understand the appeal. the corniness of it all made you and kuroo scoff and laugh. 
some people may say it’s because the two of you were jealous, because you were alone and insecure and unimpressive when it came to romance. but you had your friends and family, good school careers and of course each other; you were perfectly content. simply looking from the outside in brought you more joy than you think you’d get being in a relationship. 
you and tetsuro leaned toward one another exchanging giggles under your breaths as you overhear a girl fawn over a love letter she received from an athlete on the soccer team. this was routine. you never sought out couples to tease, but eavesdropping was practically irresistible.
“what a romantic.” you rolled your eyes as tetsuro chuckled and looked down at you, arms crossed against his chest.
“what? you mean you wouldn’t like someone calling you a light at the end of their dark tunnel?” and the sarcastic question made you break out into a new fit of giggles.
but as his feelings toward you shifted, so did tetsuro’s view on love. suddenly, he found himself yearning to experience a tender moment in the rain, to wrap someone up in his arms and spin them around, to exchange kind and loving words with someone he could call his. he wasn’t so quick to judge affectionate couples in the halls anymore, or people who would go on about their relationships whenever given the chance. he became sympathetic, almost jealous that others could experience those things with the persons they liked and he couldn’t. 
kuroo has known you long and well enough to know that you hate cliché relationships.
you’re sitting on the sidelines of the gym floor as you watch kuroo practice. this was also routine. he’d come over in between games and talk with you idly, a common topic being whatever sort of cheesy exchanges you had witnessed from your schoolmates that day. 
“you’re gonna laugh when you hear this. a girl in my homeroom got a massive bouquet of flowers addressed to her but the message was anonymous! just some corny message about meeting them after school!” you snickered as you recalled the events from the morning, your friend sitting beside you on the balls of his feet, arms draped over his knees. for the first time, he wasn’t joining in the laughter. 
he really doesn’t know why or when the shift happened, especially towards one of his closest friends. maybe it was when you wore your hair a little differently than you normally did. maybe it was when you ran up to him after a game, punching his arm and chest as he recoiled into himself telling you to cut it out like he always did after he won. maybe it was when he watched you sit side by side with kenma on the sidelines after practice, both of you immersed in the game he was playing on his console and his chest swelled up with a sudden overwhelming happiness. 
“maybe they thought it’d be romantic?”
maybe it was when he vented to you about some problems with the team and you talked him out of his doubts. maybe it was when you pulled an all-nighter helping kuroo make game-plans for the team. maybe-
you snorted.
“they always think it’d be romantic.”
tetsuro watched you in silence as you looked onward with a dazed smile. you have a hair out of place, and he wants to tuck it behind your ear, let his hand linger by the side of your face to admire your features. just like a cliché. 
your eyes shine under the gym lights, and tetsuro thinks they look gorgeous, that he can stare into them forever. just like a cliché. 
when did this happen?
“yo, kuroo! we’re starting up again!” 
he’s startled out of his thoughts, and you both turn toward shibayama signaling the beginning of the next game. you eyed your friend with a smirk before shoving him to his feet, him tripping as you did so. “go get 'em, lover boy.” 
tetsuro’s face curled into a look of disgust. “don’t call me that.” 
he spared one final glance in your direction before turning away and calling out ‘coming!’ in response to his teammate.
he let out a long sigh as he jogged toward the court. what the hell was he supposed to do? 
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annoyinglandmagazine · 4 months
Text
Elrond and Celebrian’s wedding thoughts
I’ve had this really weird idea about how the brutality of the first and second age in which so many elves have lived could influence certain traditions, especially the Noldor exiles because I think they did a very sharp u turn from ‘all I’ve known is bliss’ to ‘the world is composed of fire and corpses’ and went well off the deep end a lot quicker than the Sindar did. Because the Sindar adjusted to the darkness a lot less violently and suddenly than the Noldor did and are just generally more stable seeming, less entirely batshit insane (because of course all the Noldor exiles present in First Age Beleriand are the batshit insane ones who either burnt the ships or crossed the Helcaraxe).
So the Noldor are so focused on war that it inserts itself into every aspect of their lives including ceremonies because how is anything meant to be binding without blood spilled? Bonds are forged by saving each other in battle, avenging a lost friend with a bloodthirsty rampage, how are words meant to hold weight or impact over the life and death situations that define them? So I think that in certain factions, at certain points, it becomes tradition for there always to be some form of blood involved in a wedding ceremony.
How varies, probably it originated from people just straight up getting married on the battlefield one time too many, seems like a very Noldor thing to do (no I’m not talking about the LACE kind of wedding before anyone’s mind goes there). Then it evolves to different things, scrapes along hands before linking them, cuts on knuckles before bringing them to lips, slicing a finger and leaving a bloody mark over the partners heart or on their forehead, or (my personal favourite) cutting the lips before kissing so the blood mingles.
This brings me to the main point of this ramble which is that Elrond and Celebrian by the start of the Third Age are some of the only people who still value this tradition. Despite their extremely different upbringings fundamentally, and this of course is up to personal interpretation as we know very little about Celebrian sadly, I’d say they were both born into the world at the point of apocalypse, desensitised to violence. Very used to the sense of impending doom and willing to take any hope or joy when they can. They are fundamentally children of the first age and it shows.
Mirkwood obviously doesn’t do this because they obviously aren’t Noldor and don’t have those kind of traditions (because they aren’t that mental) and Lothlorien probably wouldn’t because it’s predominantly Sindar (and also more chill) and since a good proportion of the First Age elves are either dead or in Valinor by the end of the second age suffice it to say everyone who is at their wedding thinks it’s concerning when they pull out their ‘good daggers’ and prick their lips before embracing, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes and grinning wildly all the time as if there’s nothing messed up at all about the fact they brought daggers to their wedding.
Thranduil expected there to be at least one disturbing Noldor feature of the day, his father gave him enough vague warnings, not that he ever thought he’d end up at a Noldo’s wedding, and he’d certainly no hopes of Celebrian being a tempering influence on Elrond’s blatant Feanorian sympathies with how much she loved to wreak havoc but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of little droplets of blood smearing on their mouths as they pressed their lips together, otherwise perfectly romantically. He does not attend any more weddings in Rivendell after that.
Galadriel and Celeborn probably married in a Sindarin way but they find the gesture touching anyway, not unusual in the slightest but more quaint, a true symbolic end to the previous ages in the joining of the last descendants of Finwë in the wartime fashion before an age of peace.
Is there a possibility Arwen and Aragorn did it too? Absolutely and Legolas has thoughts on it which he will be bemoaning to Gimli the entire ceremony.
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hooked-on-elvis · 4 months
Note
Just a little wish for a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year to some blogs that have brought me joy this year
🎄🎁🎄
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Awwww. You're so sweet!!! You made my day. I mean it.🥹 Thank you for sharing this with me. I'm glad my blog brought some joy to you this year. So glad! I love your blog too. Very much! ♥ Wishing you the happiest Christmas and that you have an excelent 2024 ahead, dear.
🎅🏼🎄✨🩵
Since we're on the thanksgiving mood, I'd like to thank my favorite blog owners here too, some of the wonderful people I got to talk a little bit this year - or not talk in a personal level but either way, I appreciate you very dearly
I feel you are my priceless gifts this year. ♥
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First, I'd like to mention @elvisanddenise. I didn't have a one-on-one talk with you yet, but I'd like you to know you were the reason I wanted to rejoin Tumblr this year in the first place. I am 28 years old now, so I've been a Tumblr addict in my teenage years (for a different reason other than Elvis) but I lost that passion long ago. I didn't even actually use to share anything. Back then I used this account purely to read some fanfics on one of my favorite TV shows characters and that was all, until I got over it a bit. My Tumblr was forgotten for many, many years. This 2023, you were the reason I found it would be fun being active here again. Before I had my Elvis account here, I already accompanied your content daily. DAILY. Your account has a special tab in my browser, which I check on every single day. I mean it. It's been almost a year and, well... I gotta thank you for all the awesome posts you share, the great Elvis pictures and accurate info you upload to your blog, dear. Many great, even rare, pictures of EP are shared on your blog like, weekly. Yours is my favorite blog on Tumblr so far. Thank you so much for sharing your love on Elvis with us. I can see how you dedicate yourself to this passion and I highly appreciate it. ♥
Now, I got mention @eptodaytommorwforever as the first friend I got to talk when I came back to being active on Tumblr this year. I appreciate how kind and sweet you've always been to me. Thank you for all your wonderful, accurate info shares on your precious blog. ♥
Recently, I got to interact a lot with @jhoneybees @lookingforrainbows and @thetaoofzoe. You're so much fun, always making me laugh with the silliest things, which are the best kind of laughter ever! You've been nothing but the sweetest human beings to me and I also love the great content you share daily on each of your blogs, the fanfics, the pictures, everything! I hope you feel how much my words are true. A big hug from this new Elvis friend of yours here. I hope you're all safe and happy. ♥
@bellanotchewrites My dear, I hope you're doing fine. You're so sweet. I'm sorry if I'm shitty in answering my DMs. I really struggle on that, don't even know why, but you've been on my mind. Keep strong, sweetie. i'm wishing you the best! I care for you. ♥
@vintageshanny Always with the best tags, thank you for remembering me this year, dear. Although I don't always manage to participate on the tags content you share with me, I always have great fun seeing all the interaction from the other friends you tag. I love your blog so much! ♥
@dreamingofep I didn't got to read many fanfics this year because I have a hard time focusing on anything recently — and I know I'm missing a lot of great content from other friends here. I hope next year I manage to read a lot more of our talented Elvis writers. Anyway, I 'd like to say your "Sinned Awakening" series is my favorite! I love Vampire Elvis. You're doing an excellent job on that series, dear! I'm loving it! Thank you SO MUCH for sharing your writing gift with us. ♥
And last but not least, some of the people that are always sharing or liking my content here but much beyond that, the people I love following. You make everything better. I love interacting with you and I appreciate your shares deeply. All of you have wonderful blogs. ♥ @precious-little-scoundrel ♥ @claire-elvisgirl @nothing-but-elvis @i-r-i-n-a-a @lett-them-eatt-cake @vintagepresley @suraemoon @bigdaddyelvislover @velvetelvis @presleyenterprise @alvvaysonmymind @ccab @almightybigbrain @aliengoth3 @pinkcaddyconfessions @tupelomiss @loving-elvis @heartbrake-hotel @elvisflowerchild @peaceloveelvis @helen06dreamer @sissylittlefeather @yintoeveryonesyang ♥
I really hope I didn't forget to tag anyone I care for, I'd hate that. But if I did, I'll remember eventually so I can tag you later.
✨ THANK YOU SO MUCH, MY FRIENDS, FOR MAKING MY DAYS HAPPIER THIS YEAR.✨ I wish you all stay safe, healthy, feel loved and appreciated. I pray for you all. Wish all of you a wonderful Christmas and a great holiday season. Enjoy your families and loved ones this holidays, babies. May your 2024 be filled with laughter and joy.
And thank you once again, @precious-little-scoundrel. For inspiring me after pouring so much love on many of us today. God bless you. ♥
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Sincerely yours, much love,
Lally.
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snowblossomreads · 1 year
Text
To Find Joy
Summary: In where Richard reminisces about what the holidays meant to him in the past and what they mean to him now. (Prompt 23 Cherishing Joy)
Pairing: Judge Turpin x Wife!Reader
Tag(s)/Warning(s): narrative heavy (sorry lol), a dash of angst and realization, a sprinkle of adoration and love, a pinch of fluff and wholesomeness (mix it all together to get this finale!)
Word Count: 2.2K
A/N: And here we are! This will be the last fic I have for Rickmas!! I'm so sad that this is ending 😭😭 but I have had a blast this whole time! It has been fun writing for different Alan characters but it also made me a little weepy 🥺🥺. But enough of that for right now please enjoy this cute little fluff piece and I'll see you at the end. ❤❤❤
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Christmas. It was a time for being merry and joyous. A time for giving and being grateful for all the things that had transpired during the past year whether they be good or bad. It was a month when people were more generous and when family from near and far gathered together and celebrated. 
And it was also a season that Judge Turpin deeply loathed since boyhood.
Ever since he could remember he hated how insincere everything about the holiday felt around him. How people seemed to change their attitudes toward all that was around them. Suddenly there were family members showing up after months of not seeing them even though they were only a carriage ride away. 
Then there were the leeches from high society. The schmoozers and wealthy families that his parents used to host and it disgusted him the way those people would laud his family only so they could seek favors from them later on. 
What was particularly irksome to him was that his parents seemed to reveal in the praise of people who only cared about what they could do for them. So Christmas to him for those many years just happened to be the season that the mask people wore every day was simply now decorated in bells, and glittery things to reflect the true version of one's self. To deceive and make oneself look more generous and kind than they really were.
And if there was one thing he hated, it was deceit. 
Maybe it was all those years that caused him to become such a harsh interpreter of the law. To bring those, no matter how petty the crime they committed, to justice. To make sure that their lies and deceit would no longer affect the peace and stability of society's order.
Wasn’t that the greatest gift he could give to the people of the city as a High Judge?
Yet it seemed that no one cared. No one was grateful for the work he had done on their behalf to keep them safe during these treacherous times. No, they just caroled away ignoring everything that was wrong around them for some silly holiday that truly had no meaning. A holiday that was supposed to bring joy to the world. 
But for him, he felt none of it. Each year he would spend the season alone. No decorations, no carols, no feast or visits from so called friends and acquaintances. Only the housekeepers and other servants in the house kept him company as he worked the month away ready for it to be over as he found no delight in the festivities.
For many years he thought the holidays maddening. Hating that joyful bright month he felt no true happiness in even though all around him people were merry and cheerful. He found the celebrations bothersome, unnecessary and distasteful.  All of it he despised and he would be more than happy for it to never exist in the first place.
That though had been him almost five years ago. 
A bitter, dark, stern man who brought fear to those who dared cross his path. A man who hated the season as much as he hated the liars, thieves, and criminals who roamed the streets. He was still all of those things to the public, never faltering when it came to making sure people knew who exactly he was. Lord Turpin High Judge of London. The man who dealt out death to all those who decided they were above the law.
But as he pushed open the door to his home. There was a change that could be seen and smelt. No longer were the walls dreary and dark; instead, they were filled with beautiful deep green wreaths of holly and mistletoe. 
Multitudes of candles were neatly placed on top of shelves and drawers that were covered with deep red and green cloth to match the other decorations. Each candle cast a warm orange illumination over the area making the area feel cozy and welcoming unlike how it was previously. 
The smell of freshly baked cookies mingled with the natural smell of the greenery around him. An interesting yet not at all unpleasant combination as he shrugged his coat off to hang.
When he had stepped foot over the threshold of his home he was no longer the High Judge that men feared. No, he became someone different than he had been those joyless years ago. He had become-
“Papa!”
The sound of tiny footsteps rapidly approaching him had him turning around, his gray eyes, seeing the blur of a red night shirt right before he felt a small body wrapping itself around his leg. Looking down he was met with a toothy grin that was accentuated by chubby cheeks and bright eyes full of awe and excitement.
His body relaxed and the stern frown that his lips had been drawn into the entire time he had been away melted into softly knitted brows and a small smile reserved only for the two he deemed worthy of seeing it. 
“Hello there little prince,” he murmured, reaching down and gently picking the boy up who happily traded in hugging his father’s leg for being held in his arms. “Were you well behaved for your mother today?”
“Yes!” He chirped, wrapping his arms around Turpin’s neck and beaming at him. “We made cookies and mum even let me lick the spoon!” 
“My word it seems you had a most productive day then?”
The little boy nodded eagerly about to say something else when another pair of footsteps echoed toward them.
“William, be careful my darling! I don’t want you hurting yourself, or knocking something down. Lord knows we don’t need a fire to be set.”
Even when she was scolding the little boy in Turpin’s arms she sounded beautiful. Her voice rang so sweet and clear like those bells people used to decorate all types of things during this season of giving.
It was nothing like the grating voices of those at court and it soothed his ears as he watched her appear from the sitting room doorway. Freezing at her husband’s sudden appearance, her expression of concern for her sweet son morphed into one of surprise not expecting him to be home already.
“Mama! Papa’s home!” William squealed, elated at seeing his mother and wiggling excitedly in his father’s arm as he turned to wave at the woman. 
“Richard!” 
The twinkle in her eyes was more beautiful than the moon’s light reflecting off freshly fallen snow as she bounded toward him. Her confused expression was no more as it morphed into a radiant smile as she wrapped her arms around his shoulder, squishing the little boy closer to his father as she leaned up to give Richard a sweet kiss.
William, who was a bit squished in between, didn't seem to care at all as he giggled happily nuzzling into his father’s neck as Richard leaned down to meet his wife with a tender kiss of his own.
“[Y/n] my heart,” he murmured in that rich baritone that had her shivering while he shifted a bit so that he was holding William with one arm and able to snake the other around her waist.
Her eyes were bright as she watched him hoist the little boy up with ease and hold her with the same amount of effort. Goodness she loved him so much, so strong and gentle with both of them it made her heart flip and warm as she gazed up at both of her loves in adoration.
“My sweet you are home early I wasn’t expecting you for another two hours,” she said, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek and feeling some of the rough stubble that had begun to grow. “Is everything all right? No trouble at work today?”
“No, nothing of that sort,” he answered, stroking her waist and becoming lost in her serene features that gazed upon him softly. 
If it was someone else giving him such a look, he would be offended, disgusted even that they would stare at him in such a manner. It felt like they were pitying him and he needed nor wanted any of that. But with [Y/n], it felt so, right, so soothing to have someone so sweet and radiant look upon him with such adoration. Maybe it was why he had been so eager to propose marriage to her so soon after their meeting
“I just thought that after all the work you and the house staff-.”
“And me to papa!” William cut off exuberantly causing both his parents to look at him with amused expressions. “I helped mum put up that flower,” he pointed out to a wreath hanging above a shelf right against the staircase.
“And of course you too little one,” Richard added leaning down, placing a kiss on the young boy’s forehead causing him to giggle and quiet down again after his recognition. “I just thought it ungrateful of me to not cherish what my sweet wife and son have done to make our home look so wonderful.”
A bashful look overtook [Y/n] and she suddenly felt herself become shy at his words of adoration. Even after being with him for five years, she couldn’t help how much she loved to hear his praises for her. But of course, she knew how much he didn’t like the holidays. 
It had been something that was discussed during their first Christmas together as husband and wife and it absolutely had her thinking about what she could do to at least lessen his hatred for it. Because to her, it was the season for joy and family and she had always adored it growing up in a close knit family. 
So to have him slowly warm up to it each year, made her heart happy. And she was sure now that they had a little one that had somehow softened him even more regarding the subject.
“Oh, Richard! As much as I want to say you didn’t have to,” mirth in her voice as she stroked his cheek before moving her hand and repeating the action against the little boy’s making him giggle. “I do love being able to spend time with both of my loves. You two bring me so much joy and I wish to cherish it for as long as possible.”
“I know, and it was a wish that I hoped to grant you this year seeing as I failed to do so the last year.”
Shaking her head at his words her smile never faltered even at the reminiscing of the past Christmas where things had not gone as planned. Still, they were able to be with each other as a family and that’s what mattered.
“My love, do not let what did not happen last year bother you, you are here now and it is all that matters,” she spoke, assuring him as always. And for a moment he mused about how wise she was even at her young age compared to him. 
How he had studied and interpreted law for decades yet with just a simple sentence of understanding she had calmed and warmed him. 
“So if it is agreeable with both of you,” she started, eyes darting between Richard and William, “should we have an early supper and maybe some stories by the fireplace?”
“I have no objections my heart, but does our little one find it agreeable,” Richard asked looking down at the boy who was just happily watching mum and pa as he cuddled Richard.
“Can you read papa,” he asked sweetly, head lifting from his father’s shoulder to look at him with wide eyes that the older man had become weak to after so many years. It didn’t help that the little one had the same color and shape of eyes as his mother which made Richard adore him even more than he already had.
“I like it when you read and so does mama!”
“Is that true love?” He asked knowing the answer as he looked at [Y/n] knowing full well of her answer, “do you enjoy my reading?”
“Of course what kind of question is that!” 
Humming, as if he were truly contemplating this matter as if it was a law to be decided, he finally answered after a brief moment.
“Well then I believe this is a settled matter. I will read for both of you after dinner to show my gratitude to you both.”
A cheer broke from the boy as he tightened his hold around Richard leaning in to kiss him on the cheek happy that his pa would be reading to them. It warmed him, so much he couldn’t stop from squeezing the little boy and retightening his grip on [Y/n] who happily went to wrap her arms around him hugging him and nuzzling him just the same as their son was doing
And he felt that after all those years of hating the holidays that brought him no happiness or cheer. He had finally found a reason to cherish the joy the season seemed so well known for. And they were both in his arms. 
A/N: That's all folks!!!! I hope that you all enjoyed reading these stories as I had so much fun writing🥰🥰! I may or may not be sobbing that this is over as I've been rewatching so many of Alan's works recently and I'm super heartbroken that we never got to see more of him in movies or on stage😭🥺😩I'm sure he would have been fantastic and as many said we will never see the likes of him again.
But I'm so happy we still have a fandom that keeps his memory alive even though it has me weepy sometimes when I see posts and such (chill out girl). It's made of such great people and I hope it stays forever ❤❤❤ This was so much fun and I hope to do it again next year and write for even more prompts and I didn't have time to write for all of the ones I wanted to this year!!!
Of course, thank you to the wonderfully talented and amazing @deepperplexity for hosting this and also giving us some fantastic stories to entertain ourselves with🎉🎉🎉🥰 you're so great ma'am, and know we adore and appreciate you!!!!! I'm definitely going to go binge some other Rickmas fics that people wrote though for some holiday comfort hahaha.
Thanks again you all and have a Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas 🥰✨🎄❄
(P.S. there may or may not be a second part to an earlier prompt coming out right before the new year is not technically Rickmas but still😉😉)
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sheen1514 · 1 year
Text
To my ex best friend,
I've endeared you for so long, I've held you really close to my heart for an exceptional seven years and now it's finally time to let go.
I considered you as close as my real sister is to me, we were best friends after all. We were there to counsel each other, to provide warmth to each other and to rely and be reliable for each other. I brought about such drastic changes in myself for you, for your sake i opened up more to people, I became more talkative, I called you regularly, everyday (even though we met everyday) and I did everything, not just to please you but because it mattered a lot to me as well but then tell me why you ended it all so bitterly and instantly, without my knowledge?
We used to talk about things that mattered to us, so tell me, did our friendship matter so little to you that you didn't even care if you lost it forever? Did I not deserve to have one last peaceful word with you?
I think about you often. We shared lots of moments together but one that strikes out most to me is that day in school, when everyone else was celebrating in the small field and we snuck out and ran up the ladder, above the auditorium and in front of the home science lab, with our food and novels. I remember before we got there I was running around looking for you, to tell you how much I loved you and how I never want to lose you, even after school comes to an end but I did, didn't I?
When we were up there, we talked about everything warm and sweet. We planned our whole lives in a span of mere minutes, didn't we? I remember lying down with my head on your knee and both of us just looking at our classmates in the field below and thinking to ourselves how different we were from them, that we held true friendship and love for each other, then why Mehar? Why?
That day you came over to my place for your very first sleepover. We had a gala time and I still have pictures from that day. We celebrated festivals together, went on trips together, shopped together, watched movies together, read books together and all other things in the world then where did it go wrong for you? Why did you decide to tear it up into pieces?
I still have that photograph of you as a kid, you told me to keep it safe and I have. I hope you kept mine safe too. I don't know if we'll ever cross each other's paths again for you're miles away now and I'll be starting college in a few months. I never got to tell you about the man whom I fell in love with and now intend to get married to, you would've loved him for me.
However there's no worth in dwelling upon the past now. I'm writing this so as to relieve my soul of all the grief and sorrow it has endured over the past couple of months and to put a seal on it. Here I am finally moving on and hoping you've moved on just as merrily as you wanted to. I shall find happiness and comfort now in knowing that the great sacrifice of our friendship has led to me finding my one true friend in my current best friend of six years and has given me a reason to be all the more grateful to her. In doing so, you've rid me of all fickle friendships and have provided me with a long due lesson in this art of friendship.
On this note, I shall put an end to our conversations forever - which I've had with you personally and which I've had with my own conscience since the time you left me. May you find peace and joy wherever you go and with whomever you are.
To the happy times lived, to the grief stricken days with undertones of betrayal and bitterness, to the friends had, to the friends lost and now to newer and happier beginnings, I bid you farewell.
Your once dearest friend,
Sheen.
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pr14nce15 · 17 days
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So This Is Goodbye 😥😔
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I’ve dreaded this day to come but here we are. The last Grandparent we have all sadly lost and this one really breaks my heart because I have spent a lot of time with Grandad Chris and to see him go like this is really sad but nature had to take it’s cause😔
I’m gonna pass this on to my Uncle Marcus first.
Dad, you have been an absolute legend for the way you took care of all of us. Including Mom when she was sick. I always looked up to you because you had a strong presence around all those who loved you. You were the foundation to our family. You taught me how to be a mature man and role model. Now that you are gone. It’s time for me to keep your promise. The promise to be the main man of the family. To look after my Sisters. My Brother in law’s. My wife. And my niece and Nephews. I will miss you very much but I know somewhere you will always be watching over us💙
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Auntie Keisha.
Dad, I never wanted this day to happen because I always hoped you would be here forever. Sadly it was not meant to be. I always think back to when I was little how we used to have such a special bond with each other and how I brought Henry into the world how much you loved being a grandparent along with Mom. Life is not gonna be the same without you in it. One thing I will always be thankful for is that you watched all three of my children grow up. And for Orion knowing who is Grandad was. I know that you will always have a special place in Rhys’ heart because you treated him like he was your own. Dad you were one in a million to me and I want you to be one in a million to everyone else up there. I love you so much and I will miss you forever🥺
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Mom.
I don’t really know how to start this.😔This has got to be the hardest thing I’ve had to do. Because I’m not ready to let you go yet. I’m not ready to say goodbye😢I was so happy that you moved in with me and Tyler after Mom passed because all I cared about was making sure you were okay. Okay to face the last chapter of your life without her but instead you spent it with your family. And ever since you have brought smiles to a lot of people’s faces. Warmed people’s hearts and you were the heart and joy in my home. I am so glad you had the opportunity to meet your other grandchildren and they loved you as much as we did. Dad you were like a best friend to me. Daddy’s little girl. You helped me with so much throughout the years. Although I was a bit of a mischievous girl when I was younger, you did nothing but loved me no matter what. I loved you more than you could ever imagine. Even living together you helped me and Ty sort out our relationship. I’ve grown such a close bond with you since and I’m really sad we won’t have the opportunity again. I hope during this time I get to reminisce with the family of all our memories of you together and show them what a true gentleman you were. So Dad, I don’t want this to be a goodbye, I want this to be a see you soon because one day it will be our time and we will get to be together again. Take good care of Mom when you finally get together and my beloved friends up there and I love you always❤️
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Me on behalf of The Grandchildren.
Grandad Chris. What can I say? You've been a massive part of our lives. Speaking from Me and Simone you've been the only grandparent we have spent this time with. For me and Henry, we had the opportunity to be with you and Grandma Michelle from birth. But for all of us, you have been an amazing grandfather and we absolutely adore you. Simone and James are happy that you could be there for them before their prom. Orion is grateful that you have helped him achieve his academic goals. For Henry, you helped him overcome his depression and helped him to talk about his feelings and struggles. And for me, I am glad that you were here to attend the most important day of my life. We are completely saddened that you won’t be here to watch us grow into strong adults. But you will always be in our memory. Me and Henry will make sure to tell your great-granddaughters about what an amazing person you are and I’m sure with all our children we have in the future we will keep your memory alive forever❤️we love you Grandad Chris and we will miss you dearly💕
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Now to end this post here are some family Memories❤️RIP Grandad
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RIP Christopher Campbell 09/04/24
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summersareknives · 1 year
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hi ess <3
lily best milf ever SO TRUE!!!! & i did see theinvisiblemuseum's art its SO good i love their art sm.
tay time! closure, out of the woods, & clean <3
and omg pink lemonade! i loved that fic it was so good. (im trying to get my fic rec for u but AO3 IS DOWN RN. UNBELIEVABLE!! ill have one for next time i promise)
chatting time <3
having a pic of a pigeon as a souvenir from a trip is pretty funny tbh. imagine travelling across the world and the only thing u brought back was a single photo of a kinda-ugly bird.
podg ben & dune timmy❤️ im so excited for the next dune film purely for more scenes editors can use for reg. like yes i like the dune series but im a simple woman. i have priorities.
medium well on an exam is better than medium bad !! i think its a cause to celebrate. also i hate it when everyones talking about the answers they got and u got something completely different. i start panicking so bad.
we truly did win the bff lottery. get urself a friend who brings u food in the rain and dances in the kitchen to jazz with u or threatens to send u to a mental hospital. theyre rare.
tbh kentucky seems like the kind of place to have colonel sanders just everywhere. thats their pride and joy he must be displayed. i bet they have tons of kfcs too.
L & E AND L & B FTW!!! so real. and u have a marriage pact? thats so cool. liv has a long term bf so we dont but if i asked her to she might leave him so. i did have a marriage pact with another good friend but she moved away </3
and omg i hate condescending people sm. they piss me off so much like STOP UR NOT BETTER THAN ME!! especially if shes asking if u know what a computer processor is like girl who cares there are bigger things to worry about i promise.
LIKEAFUNERALL'S XENO>>>>> pandora was winning fr.
gary oldman and timmy in the same video = literal jumpscare. and yes ive seen that pic of ben & andrew and i literally cried. i thought it was edited at first but it wasnt and i cried . #wolfstar
a hozier concert would fix me and i truly believe that. also my entire tiktok fyp is just edits with work song now?? like how does it know we were talking abt that song on here. i fear tiktok is spying on me .
and omfg. i have seen the jesus/judas edits. at first they were really funny like why are people making jesus fancams.....but then they got like actually kinda sad and i felt bad for jesus. like sorry u had shitty friends man . i promise ur really popular nowadays </3
i swear harry is being americanized. he spends so much time there hes forgotten his roots and that the rest of the world exists. like why does he need to do several shows in la or nyc when he can travel elsewhere !!
i dont trust people who dont scream cruel summer ESPECIALLY "he looks up grinning like a devil" like its a scream-or-nothing situation.
piss & gladiators <3 sorry rome but its true. maybe i can fit something else in there. rome, the eternal city of piss , pickpockets, and gladiators.
u should totally give them detentions. abuse ur power. especially if theyre making u late to exams?? so rude of them tbh.
i hate being full named sm. luckily im the one who full names liv and not the other way around so i can live in peace <3
im always seeing art with lil baby harry calling remus his uncle moony and it KILLS me every time. :((
also omg "dumpydumpster"..... fuck that old man fr.
book lovers>anyone else!!!! i cant imagine being with someone who doesnt know who remus lupin is its just not happening.
yes chess!!! every time i play i channel all my beth harmon from queens gambit energy. even if i lose it doesnt matter im still slaying.
u know putting down an answer for every question on ur exam is all that matters !! its better than nothing and i live by that.
annotating books for each other>>> i had a friend and her and her gf annotated sappho's poetry for each other. it was so fucking sweet i wanted to cry.
and hozier writing a song abt u?? literally my cause of death. get urself someone who will write a beautiful song abt u <3
i wanna go to portugal so bad. i looked up the sanctuary of our lady fatima and it looks so peaceful <3 i love old churches tbh they always have such a nice calming vibe. and omg algarve?? that looks SO NICE!!! i need to be at a beach there rn. and all the food sounds so good. im so hungry now.
oh what id give to have james' no-hangover power......that should be me.
the ship name moonwater kills me cause like why are we using reg's cause of death😭 give him a break !!!!!
omg secondary house slytherin!! welcome <3 & the only reason i have so many patronuses is cause i was unsatisfied with the first few so i retook the test a bunch LOL. i figured raven was good enough so i left it at that.
dairy queen <3
"ex gifted kid now try hard" SO TRUE!!!! why cant things just be easy now .
omg timmy tim at the oscars! if i see two timmys this year ill know whats up.
american chocolate is SO GROSS like i know canada has a lot of american chocolate too but at least we have SOME european chocolate thats actually good.
sadly the snow is pretty much gone :( it rained and now its just mush. bad day for snowmen enjoyers.
wait thats so funny to have a taller georgie i love it. and a shorter clown thats hilarious id laugh so hard
killing barty is so funny to me. like yes i like him but yes he absolutely deserves it.
ill make liv get that tattoo even if its the last thing i do idc.
hoarding nail polish and lipstick> so real of u. my nail polish collection is way too excessive and some colours are just Not it. like girl why do u need 3 different browns theyre so ugly.
that quote kills me every time i read it ( i had to read that play for a class and it was like a slap in the face fr.)
mskingbean knows whats up. and omg yes little women references<3333 they take me out every time i read them.
seeing seth rogen & john mulaney was really weird but u know whats weirder? seeingf the entire riverdale main cast walk by only for a literal train of teenage girls run after them. im not kidding it was so funny.
humpty dumpty party mix is a such a funny name ur so right actually. it even has a little humpty dumpty egg guy on the bag i love it <3
omg lover being ur first dance song <3 its the perfect song for that fr. but yes rep is perfect for when ur needing to feel like a criminal !!
fr seeing the parthenon changed my life. i need to go back or ill perish.
i think harry would be proud if he knew i came out to his song tbh. but lu figuring u out? SO REAL. liv already had her suspicions and after the crying told me i radiate "potent bisexual energy" so.
r(edge) 4ever idc. it just sounds sm better.
AHAHA va fa napoli kinda is a swear, it doesnt actually have a bad meaning but it basically sounds like "vaffanculo" which means basically "fuck you" or "go to hell". & omg wanting to learn swedish for young royals MOOD!! i took french throughout all of primary school and im still shit so. bad canadian over here
ur qs
being a gold digger is so real of u. i support this endeavor.
lily evans is such marriage material its not even funny!!!!!
SIX LANGUAGES!!!!! THATS SO COOL!!!!! we got the rosetta stone over here people. i had a friend who was gonna teach me some hindi but she moved away
topaz obsidian & amethyst <33 all so cool.
u should totally watch it, its so good. the last episode where that quote was from was genuinely the most heartbreaking and beautiful episodes of television ive ever watched like ever. it was so good.
forests <333 love myself a nice lil sun dappled forest with woodland creatures wandering about. tbh where i live u can visit all 3 at the same time so i could never pick just one.
omg a hairdresser i love that. im actually my own hairdresser (ie i dont wanna pay for a professional so i just cut and dye it myself) i wanted to be a makeup artist but that dream didnt last long.
wait cancer thats actually cool. i dont think many people know much about how it works & biology is so fascinating sometimes. and yesss ofc platonic soulmates <333 we dont have time for superficial friends!!!
timmy and louis <3 (get louis away from grandma STAT!!!!) ofc flo and zendaya. excellent choices.
*gasps in spotify user* okay but to be fair apple music & spotify are like nearly identical at this point. i only use spotify cause i dont wanna move all my music to apple music itd take way too long.
i love canis major sm. and draco too its such a cool looking constellation.
AWW i love that sm. cant believe he danced better than u thats hilarious. he came to slay and to slay ONLY!!! and the toaster gift? thats so funny and sweet. i hope hes ready to slay again at the next wedding🕺
omg wingstop i want so bad too. they make it sound so good and i need to try it before it die. and omg birria tacos are SO good. highly recommend.
answering qs
ive got a few topics actually: the life of agrippina the younger (emperor nero's mother) and her rise and fall to power; the sociopolitical role of a woman in sparta versus athens; lord of the rings as a whole; the tragedy of star wars and the themes of hope and rebellion. oh and space! i love space and astronomy sm.
worst advice ive ever given: i accidentally helped someone get rejected💀 it was the guy who liked me on and off during high school, he liked this other girl for a bit and asked me what he should do, so i told him to be honest with her and tell her how he feels or else nothing will ever happen between them, so he did and she turned him down for being too forward. oops! at least hes not into women anymore.
worst advice ive taken: tbh ive got no idea. i can be a very paranoid person so when people give me advice i take extra care to think it through so ig ive managed to avoid shitty advice.
which element id be: bismuth bc its symbol is Bi <3 and its rainbow and cool. gay element fr.
undercover spy name: this is so lame but if we're going along the james bond theme id go with 008 cause my fav number is 8.
savoury or sweet: savoury forever. i love sweet stuff but its easy to get sick of it if u have too much.
fav friend: phoebe!! also monica but only bc im a clean freak like her & i also love to cook.
3 wishes: gimme a couple million dollars, the power to stop racism/homophobia, and an endless supply of pasta and im a happy girl.
how long id last in a zombie apocalypse: id like to imagine id be absolutely killing it out there but id probably freak out and die like right away. id at least try and be the best doomsday prepper i could possibly be but i cant even drive so i dont think im lasting long
fav stone: opal! biased bc its october's birthstone but its so pretty. i also love emerald cause thats my fav colour. also malachite. very pretty colour.
fav constellation: scorpio (again, biased. but its cool looking), canis major, leo, & lupus. i cant choose just one.
weirdest dream: i once dreamt that i had lunch with anne hathaway?? it was just a normal lunch. i think i had like mac and cheese or something. i woke up very confused.
worst dream: i once dreamt that i got pregnant and my mom kicked me out & when i woke up all i wanted to know was who the father was tbh.
best dream: i once dreamt that i was living my normal life but my soulmate was there and it was great. except they didnt have a face cause idk who my soulmate is but at least i got to have a dream about it.
timmy or ben: timmy. i love ben but timmy will always be it for me. lil timmy tim girl since day one💪
movie food: popcorn for sure but also reese's! sometimes gummy worms if they have them.
last text i sent: i told one of my friends to watch lockwood & co. on netflix. v fun lil ghost hunting show based on a book series, highly recommend!
last text i got: one of my old roommates said "im always thinking about morbius" like okay girl!
phone calls or text messages: text messages!! phone calls make me so anxious. text messages at least give u time to think of a response if ur anxious. phone calls are merciless and will expose ur antisocialness.
greek tragedy hero: i got achilles. not sure how i feel abt that but okay! (omg u got orpheus thats the best possible answer imo!!)
fav meme: idk if i have one specific fav meme but dumb tiktok humour gets me a lot. back in the day old vine humour was hilarious to me (def mostly cringey now but oh so nostalgic)
qs for u!
whats something on ur bucketlist?
do u have any hobbies?
fav app on ur phone?
least fav icks?
what would u do if u won the lottery?
do u believe in ghosts/the supernatural?
where can someone find u at a party?
go-to karaoke song?
whats the craziest thing youve ever done in the name of love?
if u had to lose one of the 5 senses, which would u pick?
early bird or night owl?
if u were stranded on an island, what 3 objects would u bring with u?
unpopular marauders opinion?
what would u do if u were the last person on earth?
fav number?
fuck marry kill: james, reg, lily.
whats one language u wish u were fluent in?
thats all for now <3
(also i realized these are always SO long & im prob clogging up ur page with my rambling so if u ever want me to stop just lemme know!!!)
-bee
hi hey hello bee :)))))
THEIR ART IS LEGITIMATELY TOP NOTCH IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD.
tay tay -
closure - JEGULUS - listen , I think it's literally James after they break up. like to me it's him 'seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain' I can so so so imagine that being him to Regulus after a long day and all he can feel is PAIN.
out of the woods - JEGULUS - claiming this song especially for my jegulus , but to me it screams of a pair of people (James and regulus) absolutely in love and one of them (regulus) trying so so hard not to be , but 'the monsters turned out to be just trees' and 'when the sun came up you were looking at me' - so so so them.
clean - LILY - ok at first I WAS thinking jegulus , but then I listened and I was like 'Lily Evans' like can you imagine???? her after finally telling Snape to fuck the fuck off , and feeling so much pain , but then one morning waking up and finally being 'clean' (side note - I forgot that u existed is also for them)
SKSKSK I haven't finished it yet - reading mental by sara_holmes - a legilmency drarry fic in which a miscast spell makes them hear each other's thoughts. ( also no. 'tis not okay. execute you.)
chatting :))))) -
pigeons are motherfuckin ugly and I would NEVER waste my camera storage on them. I'd literally rather take a picture of a rubbish bin. hate those pesky arse bastards.
YES YES YES oh my god I'm so excited for dune 2. it has Timmy , zendaya , Flo - literally a bisexual's DREAM cast (and also Austin butler??? I think???) can't wait to go there with the old lu and fucking watch every second ( he fell asleep in the last one.)
I celebrated by getting brownies !!!! nah , honestly when they do that , I'm all like 'keep ur gob shut u mf lepers' they have no common decency like DUDE can you let me fail in peace ???
kitchen jazz , walking through the ran and threats to go to the mental hospital <3333 how lucky we are :))))
they should have a colonel sanders statue like the one of Jesus in Brazil. like , I've said this before , but no one would KNOW Kentucky if not for kfc. and horses , I think. kfc and horses.
lelblelblelb !!! that's so rude of her she should break up with him immediately. pronto. see lu hasn't had a girlfriend in the entire time I've known him. so I'm thinking he'll still be a loner at 40. I might not be. (jk we both won't be. he'll find some girl and I'll find someone too!!! (said depressed because I haven't yet found someone) )
nah she's a bitch for real. but she's pretty. but she's a bitch. girl fuck your RAM and your motherboards. and there are so many bigger things to worry about. like global warming or whatever.
IK IK IK I LOVE HER XENO SO SO MUCH !!!! pandora was winning fr fr. (as was he. both are equally lucky to have each other)
I KNOW THAT MOMENT REALLY MADE IT FOR THE WOLFSTAR SHIPPERS !!!!!! like damn we made it happen. I just fuckin know it (so did we with the Timmy x Gary thing. like they for sure knew.)
hozier literally HEALS my soul. like he (and lu) are the only men ever <33 I think I'd be in fuckin tears if I ever went to a concert. (also same??? I got like three videos of Canadian glow coins ???)
Jesus/judas - nah I saw one of the Great War nd I fr was feeling for JESUS. like bro knew it was judas and he didn't say anything and ,,,, tragic (listen it may be blasphemous but I can so see like a Jesus/judas style marauders au. like it's so blasphemous. but it would be so good.)
BOY FORGOT HIS ROOTS. HE FORGOT THAT IT WAS US BRITS THAT GAVE HIM HIS CLAIM TO FAME. WITHOUT US HE'D NEVER 'GO AMERICA' THAT LITTLE BASTARD.
IT'S YOUUUU SHAPE OF YOUR BODY IS BLUEEE FEELING I GOT IS OOOOOH WOAH WOAH IT'S A CRUEEEL SUMMER (gotta go throw rocks at someone's window fr fr and have him look up 'grinning like a devil' like DAMN.)
piss , pickpockets & gladiators <333 London is the city of pigeons , rain and red buses. what's yours up there in canada??
I TOOK AWAY HOUSEPOINTS. IF THEY DO IT TOMORROW IT'S A LUNCH TIME DETENTION FOR THEM. I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THOSE LIL BITCHES. full respect to the ones that keep out my way , love them.
it's so cool u can full name liv , because it's the other way round for me. like in a fully LOUD voice he full names me and I'm like 'fuck okay this shit serious'
and about lil harry and uncle moony I found this canary u might like (ac: letraspal)
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I hate dumpydumpster so much. how dare u hurt my boy harry like that. (u bet I'm going to take it out on him in doa)
yes how am I supposed to be with u if u don't read. how are we supposed to keep each other silent company u don't fuckin read. and and remus lupin is god how can someone not know him.
CHESSSSS. I LOVE THE VIBES AND I'M GOING TO LEARN I SWEAR. and queen's gambit energy slays whether u win or lose. just saying.
except when the question is some astronomical shit and all u can think of is - damn. gonna pull a hitchhikers guide to the galaxy and go for '42'.
ANNOTATING SAPPHO'S POETRY FOR EACH OTHER??? THAT'S SO SWEET AND ONE OF THE MOST ROMANTIC THINGS TO EXISTS EVER ???? I WISH THEM NOTHING BUT THE BEST AND I HOPE THEY GET MARRIED FR FR.
ahhhh Fatima is my safe space.( and yes old churches on top. but there's an abandoned church like three streets away and it's like a horror movie style church. literally abandoned. posters from the war or some shit it's scary fr fr) and ALGARVEEEE algarve is home home. (the food is top-notch so I get u so hard) !!!
no same because hangovers are the reason Lucifer fell from heaven like wtf ???? (although lu does have a hangover cure , and if I'm the drunk one and he makes it I'm always at least 50% better. he a real one for that.)
THIS. EXACTLY. like moonseeker? at least do that?? give my boy a break okay like damn.
yes exactly like u better not stick me with shit like mole or rat or something u best believe I'm retaking that test. (thank u I feel welcomed indeed. but careful because I'm still a brave at heart.)
I want to go Dairy Queen.and wingstop. ESPECIALLY. wingstop.
got them chills from tmt like that song HITS HITS.
Timmy Tim and Tim Timmy <333
european chocolate is the only chocolate that should exist. ban American chocolates. (also cannot believed they banned kinder eggs. like wtf dude???)
that's annoying as fuck I hate when that happens. sue the sky.
EXACTLYYYY OH MY GOD. a taller Georgie and a shorter it and it was fucking hilarious. everyone complimented us and we were so proud!!!
yes like I like him in fics in canon he go fuck himself into the deep pits of the nether worlds.
YES, U DO THAT , I DO LU AND WE WILL CONVERGE AT THIS POINT WHEN WE SUCCEED.
I would just burst into tears. straight up.
mskingbean oh how I love her. lw references have my heart (literally going to write one in chapter 13. so excited.)
who the fuck would run after them. if it was me I'd be running away.
I WANT TO GO THERE. I WILL ONE DAY. ONE DAY JUST U WAIT.
nah that sounds like such a fun cute lil snack I love that shit.
harry would love that for u. liz and lu know what's up , they got their bisexual best friends , and now they're allied as fuck.
glad it's a semi-swear. that's so fun omg. also I also took French in primary and secondary and I still cannot speak more than 'je ma pellet' (not correct but u get it). Lu's a fluent frenchie though , so I always got him to do my French hw , and I'd do his English. fair exchanges , that way .
GOLD DIGGER STYLES !!!!!!
LILY EVANS THE WOMAN THAT SHE IS <3333333
THANK U I LOVE BEING MULTILINGUAL !!!! also why everyone of urs moving away. that's kinda sad. (I teach u Hindi. then u can watch Bollywood movies which HIT.)
OKAY OKAY I HEAR U I SEE U I'LL WATCH.
yes like picnics in the forests with little bunnies running around in the sun aahhhhh. (also not being able to pick is so fuckin real of u. like I get that so hard.)
I too am my own hairdresser ( I lied because I tried then just called lu to do it for me so TECHNICALLY he's my hairdresser but I digress) I'm gonna be honest here. glad u moved away from the make up artist dream because no way would I be paying 500£ for facial makeup like girl damn does that shit come with a free diamond necklace or something ???
I know I know I moan about it tonnes but bio and them are my THINGS. and oncology + cancer has always been a bit of an interesting thing to me. very cool to learn about . (and yes!! we take only diamonds of friends !!!)
GET LOUIS AWAY FROM GRANDMA. and straight to me. I could treat him right. ( all jokes I have one louis already (that's lu right there.) however I might abandon my louis for that louis !!!
Apple Music is just BETTER. sorry , bee , I shall never use Spotify. Apple Music is like the HD version of Spotify.
Canis Major (especially the alpha star wink wink) & Draco stay winning I love them so so much.
he SLAYED. he slays always he's so good at dancing makes me jealous fr. and yes a toaster , and I told him not to bother but he did. which , admittedly , very sweet of him.
one day many years in the future I shall brave America just for the wingstop. (now I want to eat those birria tacos so bad like god come in my mouth rn bbs.)
reviewing ur q's <333 -
THIS ALL SOUNDS SO INTERESTING ??? I AM SIMPLY IN AWE ???? also yess yess yess space and astronomy forever like looking through a telescope being there being real and just so .... ethereal. love that for us ex-astronomy bitches.
nah bro got done so bad he switched to the other side. now I wanna know if he's still getting done bad by the men. but u did what u had to , and it's really just his fault.
avoiding shitty advice like YESS YESSS DAMNNNNN I wish I could do the same.
bismuth for bi is so real. bisexuals for the winnnnn. I'd be polonium because I want to be a poison. dangerous as fuck.
008 sounds so cool , but 007 has a ring to it. like it just does. idk what I'd be. 007 is my go to. so double oh seven it is.
no literally I can never get tired of savoury stuff , but I can of sweet things. like no one ever gets it , but I'm absolutely right. (brownies are the only exception to this rule)
Phoebe and Monica !!!! my baes I love them so much !!! my favourite friend is joey. I aspire to be a loveable slut too <33
a couple MILLION???? I'd be shooting for the billions ??? bad one bee. endless pasta yesssss as u should !!! (and yes so noble of u to stop the world problems. such a good person !!!! )
nah same I'd be killing myself before any clown kills me. or I'd be like Eddie , survive till the second movie then die on the cusp of happiness.
OPALS ARE SO PRETTY THEY'RE LIKE MADE OF PARADISE I SWEAR. and I fucking love emeralds and malachite (idk what the last one is but I'm trying)
YESSS SCORPIO IS SO PRETTY TOO!!! Canis Major also a win yessss. and Leo. ahhhh reggie I love u . but not as much as sirius. but I love u. AND LUPUS OMG (makes note of sirius telling remus about his very own star)
idk what you're talking about having lunch with Anne Hathaway is perfectly normal. and Mac and cheese with the queen of Genova ??? stay winning girl , love that for u and ur funny little brain.
nah because same. I had a whole ass baby with someone , beautiful and blonde and it was a cute lil baby boy and I was such a happy mother then I woke up and I was sad ???? like bro u were never a mother LET IT GO !!! pregnancy dreams are weird as fuck. especially when u dk who the father was.
ahhh yess having your soulmate by your side yessss I love. I've had so many dreams but I never know who the person is. like reveal yourself heathen so I can find u and kiss you on the mouth.
yes ben barnes hits but not as hard as Timmy Tim Tim.
this movie food sounds lovely. once I took a whole steak too the movies. + Yorkshire puddings. (but its okay because cinemas here don't have ushers. ) and people around us were eating shit like fucking lobster. like idk what we were on but that movie everyone was eating high cuisine. (but I love a good box of smarties , nachos + gummy worms myself. ALSO THE RAZZLE DAZZLE CHOCOLATE BUTTONS. THE WHITE ONES.)
ooooh interesting. I've actually seen some ads for that shit , adding to my list rn. (my own last text was 'can I be the banker today' and u can very well guess who it was to)
yes girl ! go ! to therapy !! (the last text I got was 'YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY NOT BEING THE BANKER. FUCK NO. I'D RATHER KILL MYSELF. )
no yes I so get this because same. there's literally only one person I'd ever phone call/ FaceTime (lu) and I'm on ft with him now (he's not being neglected it's like a mutual study session where I study and he studies and also makes sure I'm studying.
achilles ! wow idk how to feel about that myself. u better not lose your lover or else you will literally raze the earth. (and I better not lose mine or I'll lose them again)
no same there are so many good memes idk how to choose it's way too hard. this one is my favourite-
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my q's !!! -
getting married and having a family. I know I know some people will say 'not very feminist' (fuck them feminism is about choice) and dw CAREER is still on top. but I know I'm going to do that shit. I want that true love type of thing. the kind where you look at someone and go 'yes. you. you're the one.' that kind. damn this shit got me sentimental as fuck. and I really just want that happily ever after with my person and I want to have a family too. AND A CAREER. but I'd do that on my own too. u get me ??
eating brownies. and baking brownies. and jazz dancing. but brownies and jazz. and also , obviously reading and writing !!!
probably Tumblr. everyone is so chill here I love it.
are u asking about my idk ?? like the one thing that a potential date or someone would do to turn me off immediately ??? I'll answer it like u are hold on. when he's a mummy's boy. (and I've had this experience specifically with a boy). like oh my mum doesn't like it when u do that. my mum doesn't want me to do that. my mum would do that for me why don't u. idk motherfucker maybe because I'm not your mum????? the fuck ??? go date her then ????
world trip with my best friend and buy a huge giant mansion and fucking have the time of my life. and donate to charity and stuff , obviously.
near the window next to the snack table eating a cracker and holding a can of coke and chatting to lu. (if sober) // if not sober then on top of lu piggy back style trying to unscrew the light bulb and saying it's too hot but getting cheered on also by the unsober crowd. true story. happens weirdly often ?? but I always ask for piggy-backs when drunk it's like ... a thing.
*coughs* *brushes lint off of jacket* *coughs again* I CAN'T LOVE YOUUUUU IN THE DARRRRRKKKKK I FEEEEEL LIKE WE'RE OCEANSSSSSS APARTTTTT.
hmmm. going to go for platonic soulmatism (sorry to anyone I've dated. I just haven't crazy things for u. u were nice though. some of u that is.) I put itching powder in the uniform of a guy on the rival hockey team (he'd fouled lu and he was all taunty and shit and I had it in my pockets only because we'd passed by a partica shop and I had to go inside to buy shit for a party and I was like 'damn itching powder this is fun'). rest be assured Lu's team did indeed win. (the guy had rashes on his face next time I saw him , which , not my fault because that's not where I put the itching powder ??)
speaking. I can write notes , I can hear music , I can see my peoples. I don't mind never talking again.
night owl. I love getting my shit done late and staying up till like late then going to bed and refusing to wake up ever. this is also another reason I get full-named by lu sometimes. he literally has had to wake me up by throwing shit at my window before.
Swiss army knife , first aid kit , and lu. if people are not allowed , then I say phone. call for emergency and shit. or if people aren't counted , then I say monopoly. maybe the imminent cause of death will make him let me be the banker.
listen this is very unpopular but -it's not misogynistic if people say 'lily potter' instead of 'Lily Evans' . like that was her name. people are fully allowed to call her that??? it's not unfeminist to take your husband's last name , and someone should tell them that. (not talking about when she isn't married to James or when she's younger. ) but u get what I mean. like let people live damn she is a potter. at least in canon.
kill myself. very simple. but I'd need lu at the very least. can't live on the earth without the best friend (very sirius x James . except sirius did live without James....) I'd straight up kill myself if he died. very dramatic , I know. but we go down together !
3. u might have seen the reblog on my blog of this number going everywhere. but 3 is very dear to me. I think I really hate 2 though. like that bitch can go die in a ditch somewhere. '23' is a close second (hello I was born on the 23rd)
fuck lily marry James kill reg. sorry reg but I'm pulling the 'they're good people' thing. but I still love you. but I love them more.
hmm. I do wish I was fluent in French. I think I'd love to understand half the shit lu keeps saying to me. and maybe I'd've got a better grade in my French exams in secondary school !
q's for uuuu -
are you a mirrorball or this is me trying ?
drarry or dramione (feel ashamed to ask but I feel like I should )?
one ship has to go - jily or regulus ?
wolf star or jegulus ?
craziest thing you've ever done in the name of love ?
craziest thing someone's done in the name of love for you?
funniest story you have ?
craziest rumour you've ever heard ?
bitchiest thing someone has ever said ?
harry or Hermione ?
dramione or romaine (again , obvious answer , but I still want to ask )?
(AND NEVER STOP RAMBLING !!!! I LIVE FOR THE RAMBLES!!! THEY ARE ALL VERY VERY DEAR TO ME I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. come back soon bee I will miss u too much <33)
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selkiecoded · 2 years
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its funny to go "haha ones he loved most will kill him kdj is so gay" and like. he is so gay. it is pretty gay to die in another mans arms. but also its so much how it wasnt necessarily one person or thing that kdj loved the most (and would therefore be killed by). it was a collection of his family and friends and the stories they had built together he loved. he loved them as a friend/participator and as a reader. this is i think one of the first moments that really lay out how much all of kcom loves each other (although the mourning after kdjs sacrifice is really really good). like its the first time that they as a collective and their experiences has brought true love and joy to kdjs life when.. nothing had really ever been able to do that before. and its an amazing precursor for the 3yr gap and its subsequent stories. ohhh i just. i really really love the demon king arc, it hits so good and sweet.
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businessbois · 3 years
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“you’re the most orphan child i’ve ever met” an attempt at analysis of c!phil and c!tommy’s relationship
this is entirely an analysis of c!phil and c!tommy’s relationship. im not gonna be talking about morals or terrorism or really even wilbur or fundy because those are whole other points. just these two and the convoluted abyss of “canon”
title quote from technoblade here
manburg war- november 16th
doomsday- january 6th
butchers army day- december 16th
i mean phil’s first day, the manburg war, itself implies a lot of history and relationships with these characters. tommy shouts “philza minecraft” in joy and recognition when he sees him. phil says these two lines that confuse the hell out of me. “whatever tommy and tubbo do, i’ll follow them” and “i gotta take care of my kids.” again, “my kids” doesn’t have to mean biologically, he can just be a father figure, see them as his kids, but i suppose we retcon these? because of the relationship they imply that doesn’t really line up? “i’ll follow them” is a statement of devotion, loyalty. i’m not saying his goals couldn’t have changed from these, i’m saying that in order to have this goal of “following tommy and tubbo through whatever” in the first place, he’d have to really love and care about these kids. that doesn’t line up with how people are claiming he doesn’t know them or owe them anything. im okay with retconning these because this was when i think cc!phil still believed the family dynamic was canon.
but the thing about decanonizing something big like that, is that, okay, maybe we can get rid of the conversations and lines, but then we have physical things like friendship emeralds and tommy slippers. he visits tommy in exile and gifts him these things. a friendship emerald isn’t something you give to a random kid, it’s something gifted to ghostbur—his son—and techno—his best friend. i guess you could say he was just being nice to this strange kid? but then like, he could’ve stopped at the slippers? why the emerald? the emerald is a Big Thing, no? and we can’t decanonize or retcon, like, all of phil and tommy’s interactions, especially something with physical items involved because that’s beyond spoken lines and can’t be dismissed as easily. but then it also leaves us with this utterly confusing narrative. there’s the line from the butcher army day, “carls okay. technos okay. tommys okay. thats all i wanted to know.” do we decanonize that too?? it’s a statement of deep care “that’s all i wanted to know” and he includes tommy in it. (tommyinnit haha) with interactions and lines like this, you can’t just say “they’re not biologically related, so they don’t know each other and phil doesn’t have to care about this kid.” because he did at some point. a lot. and these lines prove it. you can’t decanonize every moment like this. (i mean, i guess you can, i cant stop you) not when tommy and phil’s interactions are littered with it. not when tommy keeps a friendship emerald in his special chest right next to phukkit (a prized gift from tubbo) to this day. 
moving on to tommy.
cc!tommy is very smart and very good at what he does. he’s studying film in college, he got a 9 on his english gcse, he’s got every cc he’s come into contact with singing about how clever he is. he makes character choices deliberately. i don’t wanna write off too much of this as him just doing bits and faffing around because tommy’s literally always in character. i am down to decanonize the supposed mishap of shouting phil’s name when getting locked in prison, though honestly, it doesn’t necessarily seem like an out of character action for tommy who has a history of calling for phil when he feels upset. see: “where’s dadza?” (this instance is strange too because “dadza” is a strange slip up to make. it feels purposeful. i don’t think cc!tommyinnit calls his friend “dadza” outside of roleplay. and honestly the whole delivery and head shaking is very much in-a-character) and @/my-stupid-fandoms said some smart stuff about it here. but anyways, sorry, i’ll take what’s surely canon. in the manburg war we have “AND PHIL’S HERE,” incredibly excited from him and tubbo. familiarity. they know him. look up to him. we have the heartbroken "philza minecraft?"s from doomsday, indications that he trusted phil and feels hurt and betrayed. then, we have some lines that are very interesting coming from Big Man “i raised myself” TommyInnit which are as follows “I want to go ‘Philza Minecraft, I built that hotel.’ Even though it’s a lie, it will feel true.” “And then I get to go ‘Philza Minecraft, I made this house, I made this house. Are you impressed?’ And he’ll go ‘Yes.’ And then he’ll pat me on the back and then he’ll teach me how to ride a bike.” “TELL PHILZA” “AREN’T YOU PROUD?” tommy loves phil. wants phil to be impressed with him. wants phil to be proud of him. during his encounter with the egg, he says “it didn’t hurt any of the other boys. it didn’t hurt phil.” he wants phil to be safe. cares about his well being even if this is not reciprocated by phil. he follows his “it didn’t hurt techno” with an “not that i care about techno” but there is no such denial for philza. and now, immediately after being dead and pieced back together, tommy asks after five of his friends. phil is third after tubbo and jack who are tommy’s Boys™. phil is also called for the most, four times to tubbo’s three and everyone else’s one. it does seem like everyone got the memo about phil not being tommys father except tommy. 
there’s a theory around that like, wilbur found tommy and brought him home and so tommy grows up looking up to phil but phil doesn’t reciprocate. this gets to keep the kind of found family on tommy’s end but maintains the “loosely connected strangers” thing for phil. i think maybe this holds more credence than anything else, but also, “loosely connected strangers” just doesn’t add up with the stuff i’ve mentioned before: friendship emeralds, “tommys okay,” there had to be some reciprocity to their familial-ish (or at least caring) relationship. he visited him in exile. he gave him the emerald. he said all those lines. there was a relationship there. of care. of trust. where tommy saw him as someone to look up to, to protect him. at any rate, i like the theory and since we simply have No Backstory for canon sbi at all, it works just fine even if it still just doesn’t fit.
closing
honestly i don’t know what this is. this is all the evidence, all the information i have. there’s no way they were strangers. tommy obviously definitively looks up to and cares about phil. this was reciprocated to some degree beyond “i kind of know you.” i’m a big defender of c!tommyinnit and that surely comes across here. i mostly just did this to get everything i have about c!phil and c!tommy’s out and to figure out what i actually make of it and all the confusion about it. this is here and the clips are linked, draw your own conclusions that are smarter and more concise than mine.
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angryinternetduck · 3 years
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yellow & blue
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[not my pic] Hello and welcome to 2.7k words of pure angst! This doesn’t really have a purpose lol but it’s sad and angsty and features 2020 Brits Harry so why not!!! Have some depressed Harry, angelic reader, and yellow suits. Featuring Harry Styles x famous!reader. Inspired by Woman by Harry Styles, It Isn’t Right by the Platters, and When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars (which should give you an idea of just how angsty this is lmao).
The first time he met you, Harry was wearing a yellow suit. The first thing you said to him was a compliment about it. That suit sparked a conversation, and that conversation sparked an interest, and that interest sparked the best two years of Harry’s life.
If Harry said he hadn’t thought about that suit while preparing for the 2020 Brits, he’d be lying.
The chatter of the table he’s at isn’t boring by any means, but it’s not anywhere near captivating enough to keep Harry’s attention on the conversation and off of you. He heard about your new boyfriend, of course - who hasn’t - but this is your first public appearance together and Harry is having just a little bit of trouble breathing.
It’s been four months. Four months since you broke up, three since the news went public.
As far as the public knew, the separation was mutual. As a brand new artist, you needed to take a second to find yourself as a person. As Harry Styles, the man the myth the legend, Harry needed to focus on his next album and possible future acting career. He also supported you in your decision, and knew that the two of you would, of course, remain the best of friends.
Most of that’s true. You only just released your second album - which is doing spectacularly, of course - and Harry really does need to get this next album done. But it wasn’t mutual. Harry doesn’t think any of his break ups have been truly mutual. You broke up with him. There isn’t really any getting around it. Not that the public has to know.
The problem is that Harry understands why you broke up with him. As heartbreaking as it is, he realizes what he did. He knows that he wasn’t a good boyfriend. He doesn’t really have an excuse, either; he can explain away his faults all he wants, but at the end of the day, you’re just too good for him.
Which makes it all the more depressing to watch you positively glow without him.
Part of him wants to go over and beg for your forgiveness. He wants to walk over and get on his knees and say, I love you with all my heart and I’ll never make another mistake again and I’ll love you forever and ever, please, please take me back, I’ll do anything.
Another part of him loves you too much to do that. Maybe you’re meant to be with this new guy. Maybe he’s your one, your only, the one worthy of all your love and attention. Maybe he’ll make you happy in ways Harry never did.
Because really, all Harry wants is for you to be happy. He wants you to glow like this all the time, to forget the feeling of sadness, to never cry a single tear again. He wants the only pain you ever feel to be an ache in your cheeks from all your smiling.
He just wishes he could be the one putting that smile on your face.
One thing he’s noticed is that your happiness seems to coincide directly with his. Whenever you’re happy, he’s happy. Not at the moment, actually, because you seem happy as a clam and Harry feels like his chest is caving in on itself, but whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” he thinks of moments with you. Of moments when you were happy. Moments when you were happy because of him, with him, for him.
He surprised you with a picnic one year for your birthday. He went all out, spreading a blanket down and everything, and the two of you drank wine, ate sandwiches and snacks out of a picnic basket, and talked in Harry’s back yard until after the sun came up.
Whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” that is the moment that pops into his head.
It wasn’t a loud sort of happiness, either. It wasn’t a bouncing on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his blood, head pounding with excitement and joy and energy sort of happiness. He wasn’t breathless or wide eyed or buzzing with emotion.
No, this was a quiet happiness. It was the very definition of content. It was your head on his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his, your whispers of, “I love you,” the soft kisses exchanged as the sun set and the stars began to twinkle into the sky. It was your giggles at his jokes, your eyes brighter than the moon, softer than the wispy clouds suspended in air.
Harry’s getting a hollow ache in his chest just thinking about it. It hurts, really, because each of those memories, those days, those nights, carved a little hole in him and filled him with love and adoration and the purest happiness anyone’s ever experienced in the history of the world.
Now that you’re gone, that happiness has disappeared and all that’s left is a hollow, empty pit.
Since you’ve been gone, other memories have started creeping out of the shadows. These are different memories, memories of Harry’s failure and your disappointment and nights spent apart and tears sliding down your cheeks.
The problem with these memories is that it’s not a specific memory. It’s not one singular memory that Harry can turn over and over in his head and decide what went wrong. It’s not one thing that Harry can think about and solidify and apologize for.
It’s a whole bunch of things. It’s all the nights spent at the studio instead of with you. It’s all the last minute anniversary gifts and half hearted, distracted dinners, and all the forgetting of events and details. It’s the gradual falling away of random weeknight flowers, it’s the slow decline of hidden poems around the house he set out for you to find.
Well, maybe there is one thing. It might have been that one date night he cancelled. It was at the very end, during the knowing glances after frequent fights, after the slow, painful descent into acceptance but before the official conversation.
Dancing with the Stars had come on TV one night.
“Hey, I’m a star,” you murmured to him, curled up against him on the couch.
“Got that right,” Harry hummed, and you smiled up at him, and that smile made this night one of the good memories. “It should be just us two,” you told him, watching the pairs made up of one professional dancer and one celebrity dance on screen. “No professional.”
You giggled. “Yeah, we’re too good for them anyway.”
You took to dancing around the house after that night. Your dancing always brought a smile to Harry’s face. Funny how all you had to do was twirl, laugh, smile, breathe, and Harry would want to smother you in kisses and gift you his entire heart.
Sometimes you managed to rope him into it. Often you wouldn’t. Often, Harry would wake up to soft music playing in the kitchen, and he would walk in and see you dancing. He’d sip his coffee, and you would spin around and make up fancy footwork, and Harry would grin and blow you kisses and whisper, “I love you.”
He offered to take you dancing one night. He lay next to you in bed and traced his fingertips over your cheeks, lips, nose, and told you all about the night the two of you would have. He talked about live music and warm food and twinkling stars and dancing. You closed your eyes and smiled and hummed one of his songs, and Harry kissed you.
Then he got busy at the studio on the night you decided on. He stayed long. He called you. You didn’t pick up, because you were in the shower, getting ready for you big night. And you didn’t see the voicemail until after you were ready, until after you were sitting on the couch waiting for him, and when you saw the voicemail you jumped up because you didn’t look at the time it was sent, and you thought the voicemail was him calling because he was outside to pick you up.
You weren’t crying when he arrived at home. You just had a quiet sort of disappointment in your eyes, one that was almost more painful than tears, because this look told Harry that some part of you expected this. Harry didn’t look particularly guilty because he hadn’t realized how excited you were. He thought you probably didn’t even get ready. He thought you’d say, “Aw, well,” and move on.
He didn’t think he’d find you on the sofa, dressed in the most beautiful summer dress he’d ever seen, looking like an angel with a broken wing. He never dreamed you’d be so upset, never dreamed he’d be the reason for you being so upset.
That was the night he realized he was nothing but a mortal man in the presence of an angel.
An actual, real live angel.
An actual, real live angel who was losing her glow because of him.
Harry takes a miserable sip of his drink and tries to involve himself in the conversation happening around him. It doesn’t work. The noise level in the room is almost headache inducing, but somehow Harry can still pick out your laugh through the chatter.
He thinks, for a moment, that he’d like a shot of that laughter. He’d like to bathe in your happiness just once more. Maybe that’s all the closure he needs. A gasp of fresh air after what seems like eons of suffocating loneliness.
Then Harry thinks he sounds pathetic even in his own head and he excuses himself from his table. He walks almost blindly through the halls without even a semblance of an idea as to where he’s going. It’s quiet out here, at least, and he can clear his head, and take a breath, and maybe -
"Hey.”
Harry freezes.
For a moment, he thinks he’s imagining things. Then he turns around, and as it happens, he’s not.
There you are, in all your glory, a hesitant smile on your lips. You’re wearing a lavender dress. It fits you perfectly, makes you look like you’re floating off the ground, and Harry wants to cry because it matches his bow perfectly and that wasn’t even planned and goddammit, universe, that’s just salt in a gaping wound.
“Nice suit,” you say, and now your smile looks more sad than hesitant, and Harry feels the tears building in his throat because you remember too, of course you do, and Harry opens his mouth to reply but he can’t get his words out and now he’s on the verge of tears not only because he’s sad but also because he’s embarrassed.
“Thanks,” Harry finally chokes out.
“You’re welcome.”
The corridor suddenly feels long and empty and silent.
“Heard Feather on the radio the other day,” you say.
Feather. One word, a million memories shifting through Harry’s head faster than lightning.
A gifted necklace, filled notebooks, picked out notes, hummed melodies. Murmured lyrics in ears in early mornings. Night after night in the studio, together. Rubbish takeaway food, in the studio, together. Laughter over everything and nothing. Falling over each other in the booth, soft sighs and blissful gasps replacing giggles and shrieks of amusement. Late, late nights, together. Hearing it on the radio for the first time, together, almost driving off the road because of the excitement.
Hearing it on the radio last time, alone, almost driving off the road because of the stab of grief.
Harry’s not sure what to say to that. What do you expect him to? Oh, great, me too, fantastic song, innit? So he pauses for a moment and then replies, “We should make a sequel.” That gets a laugh out of you, and the thought strikes Harry to bottle it up and wear it in a little bottle around his neck.
“That would be something, huh?” you say.
“Call me,” Harry says. “I’ll book a studio.”
You smile. “Yeah, sure.”
“Don’t forget,” Harry tells you.
“I won’t,” you say, and there’s a beat of silence. Your smile fades as you look at him, as he looks at you, and Harry looks away because your smile’s about to disappear completely and Harry doesn’t think he could stand being the cause of your smile disappearing one more time.
You clear your throat. “Alright, well… Expect that call.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll see you around, H,” you say.
“See ya.”
You turn around and walk away. Float away. Fly away.
Again.
Flight, Harry thinks, watching you go. That’s what the sequel would be called. Feather. Flight.
You wore a white dress the first time the two of you performed it live. It’s such a love song. It’s the sappiest shit ever written by anyone in the entire world. If anyone else had written it, Harry would’ve rolled his eyes and said, Bullshit.
But it wasn’t. The song wasn’t, the love wasn’t, nothing was. It was the complete opposite. As pure and true as love could possibly be. Which makes it all the more painful that Harry couldn’t keep his shit together enough for you.
That’s another one of the Happy Memories: that first time performing together. You in your white dress, Harry in a silver, shimmering suit. The two of you did a whole choreography; you messed up every other move and Harry tripped over his own feet quite a few times, but the effort was there. The combination of the overwhelming yet familiar excitement of being on stage and the otherworldly bliss of simply being in your presence is a feeling Harry will never forget.
The air in the hallway grows heavier and heavier with each passing second.
Harry should get back to his table.
He starts to walk. He peers up at the ceiling as he does, hands locked behind his back, deep in thought. People are cheering out in the main room. Harry listens to the noise and closes his eyes, trying to shut his brain off.
The fans, he remembers, were devastated upon hearing the news of your breakup. It was kept quiet long enough that the questions and concerns weren’t particularly invasive, but it still hurt. It hurt like hell. It was ripping off the bandaid of the first month and poking and prying at the wound until Harry cried onstage and ducked out of an interview and missed a show.
Feather was taken off the setlist.
Once, during a lull in a show, the audience began to sing it. That was kind of strange. Harry looked up at the bright lights and swaying figures and heard his song, your song, being sung back to him by hundreds of strangers. It occurred to him, then, that it was not, in reality, your song. By that point, it meant something to other people as well.
That was very strange.
Harry ended up strumming out the chords for them. He smiled when the audience grew louder.
He heard later that the exact same thing happened to you. It was a few nights later, maybe the next week, and there were some technical issues. In the quiet, the fans began to sing Feather. You joined in just a second later, adding in your bit of the choreography.
Harry tried his hardest not to watch the footage, he really did, but he couldn’t help it.
He cried a lot that night.
When he finally makes it back to the main room, you’re situated under your new boyfriend’s arm, smiling brilliantly. Harry looks away as he sits down and downs the last of his drink. He grins at whoever’s talking at his table and shuts off his brain.
At the end of the night, through an alcohol- and exhaustion-muddled haze, Harry spots you by the door. He sweeps you up and plants a big messy kiss on your cheek, which you return with giggles and a kiss of your own. Harry leaves the 2020 Brits with two lipstick prints on him.
Despite the pictures splattered everywhere the next morning, Harry feels an air of contentment.
It’s done, he thinks, taking a deep breath. It’s done, and that’s good.
Because really, nothing gold can stay.
Not even the gold of a yellow suit.
***
ummm... yeah lol. hope u liked it...? lskdjf anyway there's that.
thx for reading! a reblog and some feedback would be fantastique!!!!
masterlist | ask
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okaymybeloved · 3 years
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can you do a txt as your best friend to lover trope? i love ur blog
txt best friend to lovers (´∀`)♡
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best friend to lovers!txt x reader
aaaa first txt req!! super excited about that, also thank you so much anon!! i’m glad my blog can give you joy :))) i hope you enjoy this!!
a/n: also sorry i was gone for so long,, i went on vacation hehe
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soobin
you two were the quiet kids in the back of the classroom
unexpectedly, you guys started becoming good friends when your moms met each other at the farmers market
maybe they did that “go hangout with the other kid while we go and gossip”
kinda forced to be together for hours which in return, turned you two into best friends
+ more under the cut!
he brought you to the tree you guys usually hung out at after school
soobin kinda looked nervous and suddenly just bursted out
“y/n, i usually don’t do this but i really like you and i really hope i didn’t ruin the friendship oh god oh god bye”
literally sprinted away
it took you a minute to process what just happened but you chased after him
catching him, you gave him the biggest hug
“why’d you run away before i told you that i liked you too”
yeonjun
okay, not to be stereotypical but yeonjun was literally the it boy
you’ve always wondered why he’s stuck with you for this long, ever since elementary school
what’s funny is that everyone knew that yeonjun had some sort of feelings for you, everyone except you
he turns down every person who asks him out and always reports back everyone who asked him out
tbh you wondered why he would tell you all of this but didn’t think much of it
until you accidentally heard him turning down one of the most popular girls in school
“sorry, __ i actually like someone right now”
honestly it made you kinda sad hearing that since you didn’t think it would be you
quickly turning around, yeonjun grabs you by the wrist
“y/n. i know you heard what i said. come on, i’m taking you out on a date today”
you were shocked but accepted excitedly
beomgyu
choi beomgyu. your best friend from middle school. or as everyone else knows him as, the class flirt.
there has not been one person that he hasn’t flirted with
since you were his best friend, you got the worse end of the stick
it didn’t bother you much at first but admittedly, it has been bothering you recently
why did butterflies appear every time he called you cute? he’s been calling you that since middle school, why is it happening now?
you really couldn’t handle it anymore so one day you just blurted it out while he was actively flirting with you
“choi beomgyu, i can’t tell if you’re actually flirting with me or not. i like you and i really can’t handle this”
he looked so shocked but it was replaced with a bright smile
“oh my god finally y/n. i’ve literally been trying to flirt with you since middle school but you didn’t get the hint”
you blushed hard
“WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME THAT YOUVE LIKED ME SINCE MIDDLE SCHOOL”
“I WAS NERVOUS”
“i really do hate you, beomgyu. now take me out before i kiss your stupid smile away”
he winked, “i wouldn’t mind that”
taehyun
you guys have been best friends for about a year
would tell each other everything, including things that were super personal
none of you guys have ever kept a secret from each other… well, until now
taehyun was generally very gentle with everyone, treating everyone with the same respect even if they were younger
however, you started noticing that he’s been completely going out of his way to be super gentle and respectful to you
since you were his best friend, it was a weird change to the usual chaotic taehyun
nonetheless, you ignored the butterflies you would get when he would help you with things
he asked you to go bike riding with him and you agreed
the bike ride ended up taking you to a small park where you both sat on the swings
both of you were sitting in a comfortable silence until he spoke
“y/n, i really like you. i’ve been thinking about it a lot recently and you are the best person i know. i cherish our times together and i hope we can spend even more”
call you a crybaby but just that alone made you cry
not even giving him an answer, you attacked him with a giant hug and small pecks all around his face
“hehe, you’re my boyfriend now”
hueningkai
y’all know the typical “childhood best friend” type thing? yeah, you guys were the living embodiment of that
you guys would spend so much time together, people automatically assumed that you guys were dating
both you and kai would insist that it wouldn’t work out and that you guys would be better off as friends but everyone knew that wasn’t true
the way he would always become super soft with you, the way your eyes always found him in a crowded room, the way your guy’s eyes sparkled when the latter’s name is mentioned
yeah, no way people didn’t think you guys were dating
honestly, you really wanted a relationship with kai
he was handsome, sweet, funny, smart, the whole package
kai thought the same thing, you were beautiful, hardworking, determined, and knew what you wanted
you were both pining at this point and your friends couldn’t handle it anymore
one day, they just locked you two into a room and threatened to not let you out until you talked to him
it was super awkward at first, no one wanting to make the first move
kai had enough and just straight up said
“i like you a lot , y/n. can we just get this confession over with and just date now. my heart can’t take this anymore”
you laughed bc that was the most hilarious way to confess
“fine then. we’re dating now, love”
hearing the pet name made his heart skip a beat
seeing you both walking out hand in hand, your friends silently high fived each other
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We'd Better Get Cracking (Simon Kalivoda x Reader)
WC: 1322
Warnings: Language, semi-suggestive content (this warning will make more sense after reading lmao)
Summary: Night shifts at the grocery store can be so boring, but Simon always finds a way to mix things up.
A/N: Jesus Christ it's been so long since I've written anything, but the lack of writing for the Fear Street movies really pushed me back into it. I hope you guys enjoy this, I know I had fun writing it
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Why the Shadyside Mall’s opening hours stretched so late into the night had always baffled Y/N. The sheer amount of crime in Shadyside was one reason she always questioned the opening hours, but also the fact that the whole mall was dead after 5pm, despite being open until 9pm. Manning the grocery store on closing shifts was always incredibly dull given the lack of customers, save the occasional high schooler coming in to sheepishly buy condoms or some other random item. The only thing that kept her shifts interesting was Simon Kalivoda.
The two had been friends since they were kids, and they were both ecstatic when they got jobs at the same place. By the time they’d started working closing shifts together, Simon realised just how boring it could get and took it upon himself to always make them fun. This promise was the reason why Y/N was currently watching her best friend since childhood stage some very provocative scenes using the remaining fresh produce they had in the store.
“For the love of God Simon, I want to know what happened in your mind to make you think that soft-core fruit porn was the way to go today.” Y/N said, shaking her head as she watched Simon’s intense concentration break before he turned to her.
“Would you rather a repeat of last Thursday night?” Simon said, raising his eyebrows as Y/N recounted Simon’s boredom-breaker from last Thursday.
“Simon, what the fuck are you thinking?” Y/N hissed, watching as Simon dropped a watermelon in front of the bread-slicer.
“Well, I’m thinking that everything else I’ve tried has gone through pretty easily, so why not try go for the gold medal of the ‘random shit in the bread-slicer’ Olympics?” Simon said, his eyes gleaming with absolute chaos.
“If you break the slicer there’s no way we’ll have jobs tomorrow.” Y/N said, looking around to make sure no customers had walked in. Although she always condemned Simon’s crazy behaviour at work, she loved seeing all the different ideas he would come up with each closing shift.
“I’ve been employee of the month for the last six months straight, management couldn’t get rid of me even if they wanted to.” Simon said, shooting Y/N a somewhat cocky smile that the girl just scoffed off. She watched as Simon fiddled with the different buttons and switches on the bread slicer, laughing when he jumped at the noise that signalled the machine was on.
“It’s showtime.” Simon said, his poor imitation of Beetlejuice earning a groan from Y/N. The pair locked eyes, and Y/N noticed a hint of softness in his eyes that almost stopped her in her tracks. Before she could think about that look for too much longer, she was rudely brought back to Earth by the sound of Simon’s gold medal attempt.
“Jesus Simon!” Y/N exclaimed, watching as the watermelon slowly made its way through the slicer. Simon let out a manic laugh, clearly shocked his plan had worked.
“I am never letting you doubt my genius ever again, Y/L/N.” Simon said, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. Y/N scoffed, unsure as to why her cheeks suddenly felt so hot.
“I never said I doubted you Kalivoda.” Y/N muttered, relishing in the proud look Simon gave her. Simon opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly shut it, widening his eyes when he looked at the slicer.
“I think we may have a problem, Y/N.”
“Yeah I fully thought we were gonna get fired after that so fruit erotica doesn’t seem so bad now. Please, proceed with your masterpiece, Kalivoda.” Y/N said, jumping off her seat on the check-out counter to move over towards Simon.
While Simon had his back towards her, Y/N took a moment to observe Simon at work. He always carried a crazed sense of joy with him no matter what he was doing, and Y/N had always loved that about him. He paused for a moment to survey his scene, and Y/N took note of the way he furrowed his brow and bit his lip. She suddenly felt the urge to turn away, her cheeks flushing almost immediately.
Simon quickly went back to work arranging a peach and a carrot in a manner that was certainly not safe for work. As she watched him Y/N came to a crushing realisation she had known was true but been fighting for quite a while. She had it bad for Simon Kalivoda. She cursed under her breath, realising that Kate’s incessant teasing was now annoyingly based in truth.
“Y/N, my masterpiece is ready. May I present to you, the fruit of my loins.” Simon said, his smile growing after the groan Y/N let out. He gestured towards the set up with a flourish, and Y/N instantly burst out into laughter.
“I gotta hand it to you Simon, that’s some impressive fruit porn. You take a class or something?” Y/N said through her laughter, examining Simon’s work closely. He laughed, looking over her shoulder at the assorted fruits.
“No baby, that’s all natural talent.” Simon said, and Y/N jumped at his sudden proximity. She turned around to face him, hyper aware of the limited space between them.
“Can I ask you something?” Y/N said after a stretch of silence, and Simon nodded, trying to keep his eyes from drifting any lower than her face.
“Why do you do all this?” She asked, and Simon cocked his head in confusion.
“Do what?” He said, and Y/N took in a deep breath.
“All the crazy shit every closing shift. You always have something whacky, and I certainly appreciate it but why? It’s a whole lot of effort Si.” Y/N said, and Simon’s stomach started to fill up with butterflies.
“I, uh, it’s for you.” Simon muttered, and suddenly Y/N was the confused one. Simon never mumbled, he was always open and outspoken.
“What was that?” She said, and Simon sighed, running a hand through his blond hair.
“I do it for you.” He said, and Y/N looked up at him with eyes like saucers. She didn’t say anything, so he kept talking to fill the silence.
“I remember how bored you got on that first shift, and I just hated seeing you like that so I decided that I wasn’t going to let you go a shift with me and be bored again. I’ve always liked seeing you happy Y/N/N.” Simon admitted, and although he never explicitly told her how he felt, he prayed to God she could pick up on the subtext.
Y/N gasped softly, and Simon could feel his heart thudding in his chest. “You’re such an idiot, Simon.” Y/N said, and before Simon could respond, Y/N was kissing him. His brain almost short-circuited at the feeling of her lips and hands on him. He pulled her closer to him, taking note of how perfectly she fit in his arms.
They broke apart, and Y/N rested her forehead against Simon’s, the only sound in the store their heavy breathing. “I have a terrible feeling we owe Kate some money now.” Y/N muttered, relishing in the sound of Simon’s laughter.
“I think she’ll just be glad she doesn’t have to hear me pine over you anymore. I swear she was this close to locking us in a closet together until we made out.” Simon said, and Y/N snorted at his comment.
“You realise we still have to close up shop right?” Y/N said, and Simon groaned, hugging her even tighter.
“Surely we can go home and if anything happens to the store then we can just skip town.” Simon said, placing soft kisses to Y/N’s head. She reluctantly broke away from him, pulling a face at the puppy dog eyes Simon shot her way.
“The quicker we close up, the quicker we can be making out at your place.” Y/N said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
“Well, I guess we’d better get cracking then.”
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diaphragmjellyfish · 3 years
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What Did I Miss?
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So this blog has grown a ton in the last couple of months. Going into this year, I had maybe 15 followers. Now, I’m at 100. That might not seem like a lot to some of you, but to me, that’s 100 people who love my writing. 100 people who find comfort and joy in the things I put out there. And it means so much to me <3 I always wanted to be a writer, but always felt like I got lost in the sea of content. I couldn’t come up with anything original or anything that would get noticed. And then I started writing for Cobra Kai. It’s a pretty small fandom so anything put out there gets seen. Then, I started writing what I wanted to read. Vaginismus smut/ general feminist fics are a niche that has almost no writers, but so many of you have sent me private messages saying how much those fics mean to you. So, to honor all 100 of my new followers, I have combined my two genres. I now present to you… Eli Moskowitz x vaginismus!reader. I hope you love it! 
You have been doing your physical therapy for about a year now. It was a long process, full of ups and downs, good days and bad days, but you were proud to say you were done! The biggest dilator could be easily inserted with the right amount of lube. It made you feel more...normal. Let’s just say, you weren’t exactly the most popular girl in school. People didn’t notice you. And when they did, it was “who’s that shy girl that hangs out with those losers?” Yup. Your best friends, Demitri and Eli, were the only people you really felt comfortable around at school. You found each other back in elementary school, because everyone else was making friends and running around on the playground, while you three just wanted to stay inside and play board games. So you weren’t cool, which you were okay with. But being diagnosed with vaginismus a year ago after almost passing out trying to put in a tampon had made you feel like even more of a freak. You couldn’t do the one thing girls were wanted for. You’d be alone forever. 
But it was over. You could have sex. At least, you thought you’d be able to. You never actually tried before. What if it put you right back to square one? What if you totally embarrassed yourself in front of a guy you liked? These thoughts zipped through your mind at the speed of light, faster than you could keep up with, when something snapped you back into reality. 
“Y/N?” Eli asked timidly. You guys were hanging out in his basement waiting for Demitri to show up so you could start your Lord Of The Rings marathon. Your head snapped up, eyes locking with his. 
“Yeah? Sorry,” you laughed awkwardly. You had been thinking about sex while hanging out with Eli. That wasn’t cool. 
He studied your face for a second. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine. Is everything okay… with you?” You questioned back, trying to play it cool. 
“Umm, yeah. You’ve just been spacing out a lot today.” You were about to make up a reply when his phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of you guys. He reached over to pick it up, scanning the screen before letting out a soft sigh. “Demitri’s mom is making him repaint their kitchen. He’s not gonna be here until 9.” He looked at your face at this for a reaction. 9 o’clock.  It was 7 right now. That left you with 2 hours to be alone, here, with Eli. There weren’t many times where it had been just the two of you. Demitri was always there as a talkative icebreaker, and you hadn’t truly appreciated it until now. It was getting awkward. 
You both sat there quietly, staring at the black TV. Neither of you were very talkative people. This was probably what it was going to be like the first time you tried to have sex with someone. Awkward, quiet, and the guy would probably leave when he realized he had to be beyond gentle because of your vaginismus. Yeah, you were thinking about sex a lot lately. But you’d just finished your therapy, so of course you were wondering about all the possibilities now. 
“Y/N,” Eli spoke, this time making you jump a little. You had been spacing out again. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to drive you home?” 
“No! I mean, thanks, but I’m okay. Just have a lot on my mind today,” you laughed shyly. 
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked hesitantly. 
A pause. You definitely were not about to tell Eli about all your vagina problems, but you were itching to vent your concerns. Maybe you could just phrase it in a way so that he wouldn’t know what you were talking about. 
“I- I kind of have this thing.” You looked up at him, gaging his reaction. He was listening intently, no sign that he was about to say anything, so you kept going. “Basically, I’ve been doing physical therapy to fix it for the last year, and I’m finally done. So I’ve just been thinking about… all the things I can do now. I mean now that I’m… healed.”  
Sensing that you were done, he asked, “You seem nervous about it.” 
“I mean yeah. It kind of opens me up to a whole new world of experiences. But I still need to, I guess be careful? Take it slow. And I’m worried people might not want to… be a part of it.” 
He nodded, thinking about what you had just said. He was wildly confused, you had never seemed injured before, but he didn’t want to push you to talk.
So instead, he just said “Well I’ll always be here for you. Anything you want me to be a part of, I’m down.”
You thought about this. Eli was so understanding and supportive. He always had been. If you couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t tell any guy. Maybe this would be good practice for the conversation you’d inevitably have to have with someone. 
“Thanks. You kind of can’t be a part of it, though. I mean, it’s just really… personal.” He didn’t seem hurt by this, so you decided to let him in. “It’s kind of hard to talk about. Basically, it just causes me a lot of pain whenever I try to... “ you made some unintelligible hand gestures, hoping he would get what you meant without you having to say the word. He just shook his head no, showing that he didn’t understand. “Like, whenever I put something… inside.” You blushed deeply at this, giving Eli another hint about what you might mean. You were staring at the floor. He said nothing, and when you looked back up at him, he too was bright red. “Sorry. I’m probably making you really uncomfortable. I can just go and come back later when Demi-” 
“Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to go.” 
A pause. “Okay,” you replied. 
“You said that you were.... Healed. So does that mean you can, like, do stuff now?” he was still staring at the floor, fiddling with his hands as he said this. 
“Technically, yeah. I just still need to like… take it slow. And I guess I’m just nervous that no guy is gonna want to have to deal with that.”
“Well then they’re stupid,” he scoffed. You looked up at him, shocked at his little show of emotion. “Sorry. I just mean that, I know what it’s like to feel like no one will ever want you like that. And it’s dumb. You’re really cool. And smart, and funny… and pretty. And if there’s a guy that doesn’t want you just because he’s gonna have to be gentle, well he’s a grade-A asshole.” 
You laughed loudly at this, which made Eli smile at you. “Thanks. That’s really sweet of you to say,” you smiled. “And if you’re talking about your scar when you say you know what it feels like, don’t worry about that. You’re totally cute and any girl would be lucky to kiss you.” His earlier words had you feeling bold, so you figured you would compliment him back. Guys almost never got compliments, especially quiet guys like Eli, so you felt like it was important to give him the same kindness he had given you. He turned so red, he looked like he wasn’t breathing. 
“That’s not true. I mean, thanks for being nice, but no girl at school has ever wanted to kiss me.” 
Well, here’s your chance. You guys were in his basement alone, the lights were turned down, and you guys just had a super personal conversation. So you went for it. “I can think of one girl who would be honored,” you whispered into the dimly-lit room. 
You could feel his head snap up at this. You were staring at the TV again, but his gaze was piercing. The air was thick, so you turned your head to look at him. He was in awe, looking at you like you were the warm sun on the first day of spring. You guys had been sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but you scooted close to the middle. Eli looked panicked, but pushed it away, swallowing hard before scooting to meet you. He was practically shaking with nerves. Were you really about to kiss him? In answer, you looked down at his lips, then back up at his eyes. You slowly leaned in, Eli frozen in place, scared to ruin the moment. Your lips barely touched his, being sure to ghost over his scar, before you pulled away a few inches and opened your eyes. You smiled at him, and once he realized that you had just kissed him on purpose and liked it… 
You gasped as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, leaning back in to kiss you again, slightly deeper this time. His lips were soft, but firm. He tasted like cherry chapstick and the coca cola he’d been drinking. This wasn’t your first kiss, but you knew it was his. You knew you would have to lead. So, you brought your hands up around his neck and swiped your tongue lightly over his bottom lip. You heard him sigh, and then felt him open his mouth as his tongue met yours. Sure, it was his first kiss, but damn he was a natural. Shortly after this, you pulled away again. 
“Woah,” he said, looking at you with a twinkle in his eye.
“Woah,” you parroted with a giggle. 
“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. You laughed at this, throwing your head back. 
“You don’t have to thank me, Eli. I wanted to.” There was a beat of silence as he rubbed his thumb over your cheek. 
He said honestly, “Well I kind of feel bad now. You helped me with my problem but I didn’t help you with yours.” Your smile dropped, thinking about what he was implying. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that! I swear I’m not trying to like take advantage of you or something. I just meant that-” 
“I know what you meant. It’s fine.”  You smiled again. You knew Eli would never try to convince you to have sex with him like that. Seeing him flounder reminded you of how sweet he really was. The kind of guy you hoped you would be able to have sex with one day. “Honestly, I’ll probably just do it to get it over with. And if it hurts, I’ll just go back to therapy, and if not, great. But the anticipation is kind of killing me.” 
“Oh… well you should still do it with someone who cares about you. I mean, it’s your choice, but don’t just pick some random guy who’s not gonna care if he hurts you.” Eli was so heartfelt when he said this, you could have cried. He actually understood. And cared. And the moment was pretty intimate. 
“So you’re saying I should do it with a nice guy.”
“Well, yeah,” he responded as if it was obvious. 
“Are you a nice guy, Eli?”
He was quiet, thinking about all the meaning behind that simple sentence. After a few seconds, he nodded. You leaned back in to kiss him again, this time with much more passion. He took initiative this time, being the first to swipe his tongue over your lip and into your mouth. His hands moved from your face to your waist, supporting you when you moved to straddle his lap. You guys made out like this for a while, lost in the feeling of each other’s lips. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathing hard. 
“Wait, wait,” he stopped you from moving back in. “Are we doing this right now?” 
“Do you not want to?” you felt a pang of rejection at this. Making to move off his lap. He grabbed you firmly by the hips. 
“Are you seriously asking me that question? The girl I’ve had a crush on since 3rd grade is sitting in my lap making out with me right now. Of course I’m into it.” You smiled at this. “I guess I just feel like I want to know more about your… thing first. I don’t want to hurt you.” You were definitely making the right choice here. Eli was so genuinely kind, you knew for sure in that moment you wanted to do this with him. 
“Okay. It’s a condition called vaginismus. Basically, my pelvic muscles get super tight as like a reflex whenever I try to… do anything. And that makes it super painful,” you explained. 
He nodded in understanding before asking, “And the physical therapy? How does that work?”
“Well, there are these things called dilators,” you blushed at this. “They come in a bunch of different sizes. You start with the smallest one, and just condition your body to relax while you put it in. And when you can do it with no pain, you move up to the next size. The smallest one is like the size of my pinky, and the biggest one is like… you know.” 
“A dick?” He asked as you both laughed. 
“Yeah.” 
There was a beat of silence before he looked at you in a way that said he was completely committed. “What do you need me to do?” he asked. You felt yourself tear up a little at this. Ever since you got diagnosed, you always imagined perfect scenarios in your head in which the guy you were with asked you that question. Of course, you always believed it would stay a fantasy. No guy would realistically care this much. But it turns out there was a guy, and he was right in front of you your entire life. You leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss, which caught him a little off-guard. 
You then leaned back and began to explain. “Usually when I do my therapy, I’ll start with some breathing exercises. And then get my dilator and some lube and just kind of, sink down on it? And then I just stay there for as long as I can. Obviously sex involves a lot more movement, which is kind of the part I’m nervous about.” 
“We can go super slow. And if it ever hurts, even a little bit, I want you to tell me, okay?”
You nodded. “Are you sure you want to? I know you just had your first kiss and I want to make sure you’re ready, too.” 
“I’m ready. I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but I’ve actually imagined this situation before… a lot,” he murmured the last part. 
You laughed, and awe’d at his cuteness. “As long as you’re sure.” 
“I’m sure.” 
He leaned in to kiss you again, starting slow and building in intensity. Once the kiss got heated, you grabbed his hands that were still lightly gripping your hips, and moved them down to cup your ass. He inhaled sharply and squeezed. You moved your hands from his neck down to his chest, sliding lower and lower until they were at the hem of his shirt, and then under to his bare stomach. He shivered, and then kneaded your ass harder. 
“Can I take this off?” you asked, tugging at his shirt. He nodded and leaned forward so you could pull the hem up and over his head, his hands only leaving you for a second before they resumed their previous position. 
Your own hands roamed his chest, before he slid his hands under your shirt, silently asking for you to take it off as well. Wordlessly, you reached down, gripped the bottom and pulled it off, Eli’s eyes going straight to your bra. 
“I would have worn something a little cuter if I thought we’d-”
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he cut you off. Your face turned bright red as you smiled down at your lap. “Hey,” he said as his thumb came to your chin to lift your face back up. And then he kissed you again, sucking lightly at your bottom lip, eliciting a soft sigh from you. You started to lightly grind your hips into his, and you could immediately feel that he was already hard. His hands gripped your ass firmly, helping to guide your movements. You felt a slight pleasure between your legs, so began to grind down harder, Eli moving his own hips back up into yours. His length brushed a certain spot that made you let out a small, involuntary moan. You slapped your hand over your mouth, eyes wide. He smiled, bringing his hand up to move yours off your mouth, and grinding into you even harder, with a new sense of excitement. He moved back in, but instead of bringing his lips to yours, he brought them to your neck, licking and sucking softly. You felt a rush of heat flow through you at this, never imagining that neck kisses would feel so good. 
“Oh, wow,” you whispered. You felt him smile- no, smirk, against your neck. Then, he moved one of his hands to your stomach, lightly brushing his knuckles across the skin, before untying your sweatpants. This excited you. He slowly brought his hand under the waistband, giving you plenty of time to tell him to stop. You didn’t, and he eventually felt the fabric of your underwear, opting to stay on top of them. He rubbed your center with one of his fingers clumsily. Eli obviously had never done this before, so you did your best to move your hips on his hand to try and give him the idea of what you wanted. He seemed nervous though, and didn’t really get the hint. 
“Small circles,” you instructed breathlessly. He brought his face out of your neck, furrowing his brows in concentration. He moved his fingers like you said in small circles on your left lip. You wanted to giggle, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings, opting for bringing your hand into your pants on top of his and guiding it to the right spot, moving his fingers in tight circles with slightly more pressure than he had been using right over your clit. You moaned softly at this, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows. Eli looked at you with an adorable excitement, proud that he was able to get you to make that sound, and knew that he wanted to hear it again. He got the hang of it pretty fast, and didn’t need your hand for guidance anymore, keeping the same pace and rhythm that you had shown him. 
“Oh my god, Eli,” you whispered softly in his ear, hips grinding against his hand once again. 
“Fuck,” he whispered back, more turned on than he had ever been just from watching you. At this, you brought one of your hands down to cup him through his pants. He hissed, sitting up straighter. His jeans made it hard for you to do much, though, so you said huskily, “Do you want to take them off?” He nodded, and you stood up and took your sweatpants off as he unbuttoned his jeans and slipped them off his legs. When he looked back at you, he saw that you were taking off your underwear too, so he did as well. 
Once he was naked and you were left in just a bra, he tentatively asked you, “Should I… get a condom?” 
You had completely forgotten about protection! That was pretty important, so you responded, “Yeah, do you have one?” 
“They handed them out in health class last month,” he said nervously, answering your implied question which was Why do you have one? He stood up, walking into his room through the doorway in the basement, returning shyly with a small silver packet. You were kneeling on the couch awkwardly, not really sure what to do, when he raked his eyes over your body. There was almost a predatory look in his eyes, one that you had never seen before in Eli. A sign of confidence hidden deep down. He suddenly stopped, as if realizing something, and said “I’ll be right back,” before running upstairs butt-naked. Thank God no one else was home! He returned with a jar of coconut oil in his hand. “I know you said you normally use lube, and I don’t really have any of that, so I thought we could use this? Or I can run to CVS and get some if you want, it’s up to you!” He added that last part hurriedly. 
You took the jar from him, opening it and gathering a small amount on your fingers before rubbing them together, testing the substance. “This should work just fine, thank you.” 
(Guys please don’t use oil as lube, it can break down the condom! Sorry for the 4th wall break!)
He looked at you for guidance, questioning, “So, how do you want to do this?” 
You looked around for a second, before deciding “You can sit down again. I think I want to be on top. Just so I have more control and stuff.” He nodded understandingly and went to sit back down on the couch, holding his hands out to you as you straddled his hips once more. 
“This?” he asked as he brought his hand up to your bra strap, slipping it down your shoulder in a wordless plea to take it off, which is exactly what you did. When your breasts were exposed, you thought Eli’s eyes were going to pop out of his head. He never thought he’d see actual boobs one day, and here they were, right in his face, attached to his naked crush who was sitting on his lap. What a day. He brought his hands up to gently cup them, making you smile at his softness.
“Having fun?” you joked. He just looked at you and giggled, nodding his head. You took the condom packet and opened it, sliding the slippery rubber out. “Do you have any idea how to use this?” You questioned with a laugh. 
“Yeah, here,” he took it from you, placing it on the tip of his dick and rolling it down the length, inhaling sharply at the feeling. He reached for the coconut oil once more and took a finger-full, melting it between his hands and spreading it all over the condom, before taking the remainder on his fingers and rubbing softly at your center. He watched your face intently for any signs of discomfort as he did so. When he found none, he brought his pointer and middle finger back to your clit, rubbing circles once again, making you let out a sigh and tip your head back. He did this for several more moments, until your hips began to writhe. 
“Okay,” you said to tell him you were ready to try. 
“Hey, I just wanted to say… please don’t be insecure about anything. Take all the time you need, and if it hurts, we can stop and I won’t be disappointed or anything. I promise. I want you to be comfortable.” 
You kissed him in response, smiling as you pulled away. “Thank you.”
You sat up on your knees, taking his dick in your hand and lining it up with your entrance, rubbing it back and forth to distribute the lubricant. You closed your eyes, taking some deep breaths to relax your muscles, and lightly sank down in his tip. You stopped about an inch in to adjust, before lifting off and sinking back down again, 2 inches this time, before stopping to adjust once more. You kept this up until you could take about half of him comfortably, realizing it was taking a long time. You opened your eyes to look at Eli, and noticed that he had his eyes closed, brows furrowed, jaw clenched, breathing labored. Jesus, he was probably dying right now. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, full of embarrassment. His eyes snapped open at this. 
“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, embracing you. “Don’t you dare apologize.”
“It’s taking a long time and I can tell you’re not having fun,” you worried. 
“I’m having the time of my life right now, Y/N. Seriously. This is the most amazing feeling I’ve ever felt. Please don’t worry about me. This is about you.”
This was everything you really ever wanted. A guy who was giving you the time you needed to adjust and be comfortable. Why the heck were you questioning it??
You smiled lightly at his kind words, nodding your head in agreement, and then started your routine of up, down, pause, again. Several minutes later, you were fully seated on Eli’s cock. You didn’t move, instead saying “This is normally where I stop. I’m not really sure what to do now.” He brought his hands up to cup your face, kissing you softly. 
“I guess, you can stay like this for as long as you need? And then maybe we can try moving a little bit?” he answered. You nodded in response, and after a few moments, you lifted your hips and sank back down. The friction felt slightly uncomfortable, but you tried again nonetheless in an effort to power through it. This time, you felt a stinging sensation, wincing lightly but hoping Eli wouldn’t notice. He did. 
“Stop,” he muttered. 
“I can keep going,” you pleaded. 
“Y/N, I said stop.” You did. “You’re in pain,” he pointed out. 
“I’m fine,” you said, but avoided his gaze. 
“Why are you lying?” he questioned, sounding hurt, which made you finally look at him. 
“I- I… I don’t know. I want to be able to do this, but it stings,” you said sadly. 
“Well then we’ll stay just like this,” he said sweetly as he brought a hand up to pet your hair. You once again nodded, too mad at yourself to say anything. “You’re doing so good,” he added. 
Instead of answering, you leaned in to kiss him. Making out had been fun, but making out while Eli was inside you was a whole new level of intimacy. His hands wandered everywhere. First to cup your face, then down to squeeze your breasts, then to the small of your back and around to your ass. After a few minutes of this, he brought one of his hands back around and down to your center. And this boy was a fast learner. He had the exact right spot, rhythm, and pressure on the first try this time, making you moan softly into his mouth. He smiled into the kiss, proud that he got you feeling good again. He kept this up, careful not to change a thing. You felt a heat pool in your stomach, your center craving more, so you began to involuntarily grind your hips into his hand. 
You gasped as the tip of his dick put pressure on a certain spot inside you. He noticed your gasp, letting the hand that wasn’t on your clit go to your hip in an effort to guide you to grind against him some more. Once you realized this movement didn’t hurt, you rolled your hips over his. Not the up and down that you had tried before, but side to side, back and forth, and in circles. And it felt good. You began to let out small moans at the combination of the pressure inside you and the feeling of Eli’s fingers massaging you. His eyebrows began to furrow and his breathing labored. This was his first time, so the small movements you were making were enough to bring him to the edge. 
“Shit, Y/N,” he murmured. You moaned loudly in response, and the sound made Eli’s eyes roll back in his head. He had to think of the most un-sexy things just to keep himself from cumming. You guys kept at it for god knows how long, until you felt that heat in your stomach turn into a heavy knot about to unravel. 
“Eli, I think I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, almost surprised. You had not been expecting an orgasm during your first time. You kept grinding your hips at the same pace, hoping that he would keep doing exactly what he was doing with his fingers. And he did. Your moans got higher and higher in pitch as you got closer to the edge, your legs beginning to shake from the effort. Your stomach dropped, and you came hard, mouth open in a silent scream. 30 seconds later, you came down, finally opening your eyes to see Eli looking at you like you were an absolute goddess. You reached down to peel his fingers off you, the sensations becoming too much to handle. However, you kept grinding in an effort to get Eli to cum too. About a minute later, his eyes squeezed shut as his hips stuttered under you and he spilled into the condom.
As soon as he opened his eyes, the first thing he said was, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
You huffed a laugh, “I’m more than okay. That was awesome.”
He looked relieved that you had had a good time, and nodded, “Yeah, totally awesome.” 
You gave him one last kiss before sitting up and pulling off of him. As you stood, your legs shook, knees threatening to give out. “Woah,” you murmured under your breath. 
“Here,” Eli said as he guided you by the waist to lay on the couch. He went into the bathroom and came out with a clean, damp towel and wiped you off as best he could before handing it to you to finish up. He gathered both of your clothes, handing yours back to you, when his phone once again buzzed on the coffee table. He picked it up when his face suddenly dropped. 
“Shit. Demitri’s here.” 
You both shared a shocked look before scrambling to get dressed. Eli threw the coconut oil and condom wrapper into the bathroom, and turned to notice your neck covered in hickeys. He ran into his room, grabbing a hoodie and walking over to you, motioning for you to put your arms up. He put the hoodie on you, and pulled your hair up through the hood to cover the sides of your neck. Just then, you heard the front door open and Demitri yell “Hey guys! You better not have started without me!” He rounded the corner and came down the stairs, looking at both of you sitting on opposite sides of the couch, staring at the black TV screen just as you had been exactly 2 hours ago. He plopped down on the couch in between you guys and grabbed the remote, switching it on. When he went to put it back on the coffee table, he noticed a small scrap of fabric on the floor. He bent down, grabbed, and held up your underwear. 
“Ok, what the fuck did I miss?”
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disasterofastory · 3 years
Text
Married to Vikings Part 3 (Ubbe x Reader x Torvi)
Married to Vikings Part 3 Ubbe x Reader x Torvi Warnings: none
Y/N spends time with Torvi and Ubbe.
The gif is not mine.
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Your life in Kattegat starts with shopping. Torvi comes with you to the market.  You need warmer clothes than you brought with you. She speaks with the traders and helps you with the seamstress. You focus on their words while Torvi assists when you forget something, or you say them wrong. You enjoy your day together. The Viking woman is much different than you or any other woman you ever met, and it’s refreshing. She is not afraid to say what she thinks, but at the same time, she patient with you and your questions. She shows you around the village, helping you to remember where everything is. The Viking woman even chooses a few daggers for you. “Are you sure I need them?” You ask her uncertainly. “You need to learn how to fight,” she says, examining the weapons. “Of course, we won’t send you into battles, but you need to know how to protect yourself.” “Okay,” you murmur, watching her buying the right ones. At the back of your mind, you already think about how you could learn to fight. You're nothing like a shieldmaiden. You are not strong enough and definitely not brave enough. “Um, can I ask you something?” You ask her after a while as you wander around the market.
It's very different from what you're used to. The traders are from different cultures with lots of exotic spices and fruits and trinkets you never saw before. Their words are heavy with an accent as they bargain with others. “Of course,” Torvi nods, looking at you from a stall. “Why are you nice to me?” You ask her. Torvi was nice to you from the beginning. You glanced at her a lot, waiting for any disapproval showing on her face because you are the second wife. “What do you mean?” “Well… I don’t know how I would feel if my husband married another woman beside me.” “It’s not that strange here,” she explains, paying for the fruits she picked out. “If a man wealthy enough, he can have as many wives as he wants.” “But still,” you insist. “I just don’t want you to hate me, and I don’t know how to act because of it.” “You shouldn’t worry about it,” she smiles at you, pulling you along. “I must admit,” she continues. “I spied on you a little bit before the wedding.” “What?” You look at her, surprised.
Yeah, that’s true. Torvi needed to make sure you are a good choice for them. She didn’t want an uptight woman who does nothing but praying the whole day. When she first saw you, you were with your sister in the gardens. You talked and laughed. You were lively and pretty.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “But I wanted to know who Alfred’s choice was.” “No, don’t be sorry,” you tell her. “I understand. If I had a chance, I would have done it too. And… so what are we to each other?” You ask her. This question jumps around in your head since last night. “For now, we are friends,” she says with a nod to herself. “For now?” You ask back, puzzled. “Have you ever been with a woman before?” She asks you suddenly. The blood flows up to your face in seconds. “O-of course not,” you shake your head. “And you don’t find women attractive?” The question makes you stop. Every part of your beliefs says that the answer is no. It’s sinful. But if you want to be honest… you find Torvi attractive. She radiates confidence and bravery. And she is beautiful with her blonde, almost white hair and her big, green eyes. She smiles knowingly, amused at your embarrassment. “You are pretty, Y/N,” she says. “And you don’t have to be afraid of my disapproval. If I had opposed this marriage, you wouldn't be here.”
With new, warm clothes you can start to learn about the farm. Torvi shows you around the animals and the way how to take care of them. They have chickens and goats and a few horses. And to your biggest surprise, you are good with them. You enjoy taking care of them even when you are dirty and tired at the end of the day.
Ubbe and Torvi are happy to see you adjusting to their world. They are amused at your Christianity and your naivety but impressed at your working tolerance. You crawl around the mud without a second thought if it’s needed. You don’t complain, but you tell them if something is wrong. You are still shy and a little bit distant, but it’s understandable. The Viking world is still new to you, and you can’t get used to it in a few weeks. “What do you think about her?” Ubbe asks his wife, sitting at the table with a slice of apple pie in his hand as he watches you through the opened door. “She is great,” she says, following Ubbe’s eyes. You scatter food around the chickens, chuckling at their enthusiasm. “She still has a lot to learn, but she is eager.” “Did you talked about… me?” He asks, glancing at Torvi. “No,” she answers, a mocking smile forms on her lips. “But I know she likes me.” “Do you bragging?” He asks, biting into the slice. “Are you jealous?” Torvi asks back teasingly. “A little,” Ubbe admits with a shrug. “You should talk to her more,” Torvi advises her husband. “I will meet with Lagertha. This is your chance.”
You are so engrossed feeding the animals you don’t notice Torvi’s departure and Ubbe’s standing form at the door, watching you. The Viking man finds himself enjoying your focused expression and your curves in the pants you wear. “Y/N,” he says your name after a while. You look up at him, surprised. “I will go hunting,” he continues. “Do you want to come with me?” “Sure,” you nod, but your voice is uncertain. Being alone with Ubbe is still new to you, and you always try to be with Torvi. The man never showed you any hostility, and you know he was attentive the first night you spent together. Other men would have continued their movements, but he made sure he gave you as little pain as possible. “Did you ever hunted?” He asks, and you answer him with a ‘what do you think?’ expression. He smiles at your reaction, giving you your furs before he grabs his weapons.
The walk into the woods is quiet but not awkward. He makes sure you can keep up with him while you are too busy watching everything. You enjoy nature. You've never been this close to it, and now everything looks new and intriguing. You feel like a child again with new experiences. “How are you feeling here?” He asks you after a while. “Torvi told me you adjust well.” “Yes, I guess,” you answer, moving closer to him when you step into the woods. “I know I still have a lot to learn, and it annoys me when I don’t understand what others say, but I never thought I would… enjoy it.” “Are you enjoy being a heathen?” He asks teasingly. “I...’m not,” you want to argue with him, but you pause. Since you are here, you didn’t really think about your God. At first, you tried to pray every day, but soon you became too busy or too tired. You tried to reassure yourself that God probably understands your lack of prayers, you are in a new place in different circumstances, but as the weeks passed, you didn't even care about it anymore. Ubbe watches you amused. He is having fun seeing your uncertainty. Of course, if you choose to remain a Christian, he will respect it, but if he has the opportunity to change your beliefs, he will. You have much more chance to survive in their world if you follow their rules and traditions. “Did you ever used a bow before?” He questions you again, changing the topic. “No,” you shake your head, looking at the weapon in his hands. “Try it,” he says, pushing it into your hands. You look at him, shocked, not knowing how you should use it. “I’ll help you,” he says, stepping behind you adjusting your hand and arm the right way before he gives you an arrow. You feel small before him, feeling his movements around you. He leans over you, explaining everything you need to know, and you really try to listen to him, but you are too busy with his close presence. His voice is deep and gentle next to your ear, his breath is warm, and his touch is calloused on your skin. He places his hand over yours, pulling on the string till it stretches enough. The arrow flies out from its place, hitting a tree not far before you. You look up to Ubbe behind you, smiling with joy, but you know it was not your work. Ubbe’s led your every move. Without him, the arrow would probably have fallen out of your hand. “You should be worried,” you say to him teasingly. “Maybe I will be even better than you.” “We will see,” he says, moving back from you to continue your way deeper into the woods. The afternoon you spend with Ubbe is pleasant. You enjoy your walk among the trees, listening to animals, and trying to stay still when he says. He tells you about his family, and he asks about your past. He is teasing and easygoing. You laugh at his jokes and banter with him when it’s needed. When you step out of the woods, it’s already dark and cold. You pull the furs closer to you to keep yourself warm. “Did you have fun?” He asks you, dead rabbits hang over his shoulder. “It was good,” you nod. “Thank you.” He smiles at your politeness, pulling you closer to himself by your shoulder. He had his own insecurities about this marriage between you and him. Firstly, he wasn’t sure about Torvi’s acceptance, no matter how many times she said to him that it’s okay and he didn’t know how you would adjust in their lives either. He imagined a pompous, fussy woman who can’t do anything on her own, and you were a pleasant surprise. But now, especially after this day with you, he can see a well-balanced relationship between the three of you. You are clever in your own way, and you complete them just the right way. “There will be a feast in a few days,” he says. “It will be a little bit different. Do you think you are ready for it?” “Are you going to sacrifice me?” You ask him, and you don’t know you mean it as a joke or not. “No,” he laughs. “You will be safe.” “Okay then,” you nod. “And soon you should meet with the children,” he adds, looking at you for your reaction. “Okay,” you nod more confidently. You saw their children from afar a few times since you are here. Torvi talked about them a lot to you, and you are excited to get to know them.
When you get home, Torvi is already waiting for you, and soon you two cook the rabbits for dinner. You tell her about your day with Ubbe while the man skins the animals. You feel content under the dim lights of the fireplace and candles with your husband… and wife. This is the feeling you always imagined as a child when you imagined your marriage and… well, love.
Tags: @ritual-unions-gotme​​ @mystic-shadows42​
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