after many tears and many hours of writing - it is here

An open letter to my husband

by reddit user VenomousHeroine

A friend of mine recently bought a second hand laptop from a busy garage sale, the seller said that the thing won’t turn on. Being the nerd that he is, my friend got it working and found a strange letter saved on it. He mailed it to me after I asked him if I could share it here. So here goes:

“Dear Matthew,

I’m writing to you to tell you that I know everything that you do not want me to know. I know you must dread hearing this- especially coming from me, but I really need you to listen to what I have to say.

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anonymous asked:

(1) Hi Viria, I hope you are well :) I am sorry to bother you with this, but it's really important for me, and I wanted to share it with you. It'll be long and kinda sad at first, but it gets better, trust me. I'm a 23 y/o latina art student. When I was a baby, my mom left my dad and remarried, and my little sister was born when I was 10. She is the light of my life and I love her to no end. Our mom, however, had had and undiagnosed and untreated mental illness for years, and one day

(2) during a severe crisis she hurt us really bad. I was 12. She was taken away to a psychiatric hospital and Child Services prohibited her from ever getting near us again. Since then, I have been taking care of my little sister and practically raised her while my stepdad worked 2-3 shifts to afford our education and payment for my mom’s hospital, living and meds. He was always working and I took full responsibility for my sis. As you can imagine, even though I loved her with my life, 

 (3) the situation was very stressful and exhausting for me. By the time I was 15, I looked every bit a teen mom. One particularly hard night when my little sis had been crying about mom, I couldn’t sleep. So I turned to something that calmed me: the Harry Potter books. I read them online, and somehow ended up searching for HP fanart. That was the night I stumbled upon your DA account. And boy, did I love it! I know back in 2011 your skills weren’t what they are now,

(4) but I was blown away, and what’s more, I felt inspired to draw. I had never tried to make any art before; it wasn’t “my thing”. But that night, you inspired me. As time went by I kept drawing and closely followed your improvements. Your art was so relaxing, calming, and inspiring, that it really helped me during hard times. You kinda dragged me into all the cool fandoms, series and animes, and I found life to be far more bearable with so many awesome things to love and think about.

(5) Your DA and Tumblr were some sort of safe sapce for me. It always cheered me up and gave me joy, peace, inspiration. When the time came, I choose to study Art at college. It turned out you did too, and you kept up all the good stuff in your blogs. Weirdly enough, I kept feeling a sense of pride whenever you improved and got better. I was so strange that you were so so far away and didn’t even know I existed but you helped me so much.

(6) I got accepted at my country’s top University to study Fine Arts; I moved cities and took my sister with me; she grew into a wonderful, sensible, peaceful child, and her presence motivated me to be the best version of myself, while your art motivated me to keep expanding my academic/artistic abilities. Life was hard but good at college, and I had incredible opportunities. I am graduating this spring with an advanced studies specialization, and was recently hired to work at

(7) of a movie. It’s like living a dream. And tonight, just a couple hours ago, the most incredible thing happened. After dinner, my little sis came to me, phone in hand, and said “Hey Ana, you won’t believe what I found. There’s this girl who makes amazing art of all the fandoms you’re in. Her drawings are gorgeous and she has so many!”. She showed me your tumblr. I wanted to laugh and cry. She was amazed when she saw your old drawings and your current ones; speechless.

(8) She fell in love, and you know what? Immediatly after, she went to draw. She’s been doing so the past hours. I know this was offensively long, but Viria, I needed to thank you for what you did. Your art has always been SO much more than just digital drawings of fictional characters. It’s been the source of peace, safety and joy that so many of us crave. You have wonderfully impacted and influenced many people across the world with everything you make.

(9) I am so glad you exist and do what you do; you gave me the hobby that grew into my passion, thaught me so much, inspired me beyond belief and most of all, you helped make life more bearable. And now, you have made the same for my sister. Viria, the world wouldn’t be the same without you. You are truly a magnificent light among us, and for your existence and passion I’ll be forever grateful. Thank you, and may you always live the beautiful, happy, awesome life you deserve. Thank you.


I’m not even kidding I was sitting here peacefully chewing sandwich and by the end of these messages the sandwich was too salty so was my cappuccino I swear you got me to tears and now i’m just like

I’m a shaking emotional leaf but thank you so much for writing me! It means so much and i’m so touched and i just wish you and your sister all the best of luck, though it seems like you don’t really need it. Thank you, and I hope life goes wonderfully for you and your family! 

Among the Crowd (Soulmate AU)

Summary: Soulmates’ worlds go from black and white to colors when they are in the same room for the first time. Bucky is a famous actor in the middle of a convention, trying to find his soulmate, you.

Word Count: 2,232

A/N: This is a re-write of a Dean W. fic and I hope you all like it :D 

Originally posted by v-writings


Bucky took a swig of water, tightening the cap on the bottle before setting it to the side. His meet-and-greet was about to start. He could hear the bustling of the crowd right outside the door and took a deep breath. Alongside him was Clint, a co-star.

“You doing okay, buddy?” asked Clint, eyes concerned as he placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

After a few minutes, Nat Romanoff and Sam Wilson took their seats next to each other and the writer of the show, Bucky’s oldest friend, Steve Rogers, emerged from behind the black curtain that had been put up behind the actors.

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Weight

Anon: Can you please do one where lance is self-doubting and staying up really late and training? Like he gets really sick from not sleeping. Like can’t keep anything down sick. It’s okay if you don’t want to do or you already did this already. Please and thank you!

Anon: Maybe something where Lance is getting berrated (idk why) and Keith comes to his defense like in intensness or something.

A/N: When I started writing this, I didn’t intend for it to be so dark. Hot damn. Deep shit ahead. Also, I’m horrible at pet-names. I tried to write from 3rd person Keith instead of omniscient so here we go ᕕ(ツ)ᕗ

It was a particularly depressing mission.

The Blue Paladin had to make a near-impossible choice. Surrender Voltron, or surrender a resource-heavy planet and all its inhabitants. Death wasn’t mentioned in either scenario, but it was very heavily implied. In the end, Lance made the choice to save Voltron on the basis that they would save many many other planets by defeating Zarkon in the long run.

But that didn’t mean a whole planet’s worth of deaths wasn’t weighing on his soul.

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are you drunk, mrs. lahey?

Originally posted by lovershub

a night out with the girls takes a surprising turn of events, and isaac’s not likely to deny his wife what she wants. (humor/smut)

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Hallelujah, You’re Home

Read on AO3


          It’s been two years. Two years since they’ve felt rain on their faces. Two years since they’ve seen their families, since they’ve spoken to their families. Two years since they really started to learn what war was. Two years since they stopped being teenagers and became soldiers. Two years since they left Earth. Three, for Shiro.

           But now they’re going back. They’re going home.

           Well, for a little while, at least. The war isn’t over. The Galra Empire has been taking over the universe for over 10,000 years, it can’t be taken down in simply two. But in two years, the Voltron Alliance has grown substantially, and they’ve taken down enough Galra higher ups that Voltron is almost universally known and called upon, and with fame, comes questions. It’s not a secret anymore that the five Paladins of Voltron are from Earth. Everybody knows, so there’s no point in avoiding Earth anymore. At least, that’s what the Paladins keep telling Allura. Earth is vulnerable now; it’s a target, and with it’s technology as unadvanced as it was when they left, they’re at a serious disadvantage if the Galra ever attacked. They probably still have no idea that aliens even exist. Earth needs Voltron. Earth needs the Voltron Alliance, and the Voltron Alliance needs Earth.

           Also, Lance just really needs his mom.

           So, here they are, entering the Milky Way Galaxy, all waiting anxiously at their stations on the control deck.

           “Ha! Boom, bitches! Wi-fi is up!” Pidge punches her fists in the air in triumph and ignores the half-hearted look her father shoots her when she says “bitches”.

           The others have long since gotten used to Pidge and her amazing technical ability, but they still all look at her in shock, except for Matt. He had obviously helped her.

           “Pidge, how the hell did you get wi-fi in space?” Keith asks incredulously.

           Lance nods in agreement. “Seriously. Tell me how I can’t get a signal in the desert outside of Galaxy Garrison, but you can get one past Saturn.”

           At this, Pidge snorts and raises an eyebrow at them. “You didn’t have me. Or amazingly amplifying Altean technology.”

           “Something tells me it was mostly the Altean tech.”

           “Shh and bow before my genius.”

           Pidge, Hunk, and Lance all immediately grab their phones and start scrolling on them, ignoring Coran’s announcement that they’ll be to Earth in two dobashes.

           “Oh my god. They told everybody we’re all dead. We have a memorial!” Pidge exclaims.

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daffodil

The problem is that Eren is ridiculously handsome these days.

Sure, Levi had always acknowledged that the kid was kinda cute, especially after he’d started growing his hair out and learned to control his temper better. That had been it, though, and since back then Levi had still been his Captain, he’d never really even allowed himself to dwell on such things. But now when he’s retired - and growing soft with age, as Eren himself had claimed once with a twinkle in his eyes - he’s become painfully aware of just how attractive he finds Eren.

He’s sitting amongst tall grass and wildflowers, more focused on admiring the line of Eren’s broad shoulders than paying attention to what he’s doing with his squad. Since he can’t deny a single thing from Eren, he’d naturally agreed to come along and watch them train. It would be really helpful, Eren had said, worrying on his bottom lip with his teeth in a way that had been horribly distracting to Levi, because even though he’d now officially been promoted to Squad Leader, he could use some feedback on his training methods.

They’ve been at it for what must be hours now, and Levi’s quite impressed. Maybe he really is old and soft, because he’d have allowed at least one break somewhere in between. Eren’s more strict than he would’ve imagined, even tense at times, and Levi’s not at all envious of his squad members.

It’s quite nice, in a way, sitting in the sun and merely allowing time to pass. That’s a luxury in and of itself, he thinks, being able to stop and smell the flowers, both figuratively and literally. He’s plucked a freshly blooming daffodil from the ground and is twirling it in his fingers when Eren seems to have decided it’s finally time for a break.

Without hesitation, Eren comes to him, leaving his squad to cool off amongst themselves. He plops down on the ground next to Levi, a little out of breath but still no less gorgeous. There’s a small frown resting over his features and Levi wants to kiss it away, to press his lips against the crease in his brow and the downturned corners of his mouth.

“Hi,” Eren says and manages a wry grin. “How am I doing so far?”

Levi tears his gaze away from the shining green of Eren’s eyes and instead turns to watch his squad members, most of whom are also on the ground, trying to catch their breath. “Well,” he starts off and intends to go on, but apparently that’s already enough for Eren.

“Really? I don’t know,” he sighs, taking a hand through his unruly hair. He’s discarded his jacket long ago and rolled up his sleeves, and Levi finds himself hopelessly transfixed by the firm muscles in his arms. Not to mention his hands, dear God, those broad palms and long skilled fingers that Levi’s imagined touching him all over so many times that he’s lost count by now.

To top it off, Eren towers over him by now, having grown several inches over the years. That’s completely unacceptable to Levi. This is Eren, his Eren who’d he’d vowed to protect, the perpetually angry and squeaky-voiced kid who’d looked at him like he’d hung the damn moon. His Eren is not allowed to be this attractive, because Levi honestly cannot handle it.

Eren is in the middle of rambling about something when Levi realizes he hasn’t been listening at all. He’s fidgeting in place, that much Levi registers, hands clenched into fists and his stare darting back and forth from Levi’s face to his own feet as he talks. There’s something trapped in the green of Eren’s eyes that reminds him of a panicked animal, and Levi wants nothing more than to soothe him and tame him.

“Hey,” he interrupts, making Eren stop abruptly. “It’s okay. Breathe. Relax.”

It’s a horribly clumsy attempt at comforting him, but Eren’s shoulders do drop a little. “Yeah. Okay,” he repeats with a long exhale. “Sorry. It’s, uh, you being here just makes me a little nervous.” It’s all said in one hasty breath, almost fearfully.

Levi blinks. “It’s okay,” he repeats, and having ran out of things to say, reaches out and hands his daffodil to Eren. “Here. Take this.”

It’s silent for a while, but Eren does extend his hand and pluck the flower from his hand, his face questioning but also a little hopeful. “What?” he asks, as if he hadn’t quite heard right.

“It reminded me of you,” Levi says and opens his mouth to explain further, but when nothing comes to mind, he closes it again. “Make sure you don’t crush it, though. Maybe train your squad a little less intensely.” He’s not sure if Eren can manage that for even a fraction of a second, being less intense than he usually is, but for the sake of his overworked squad members, Levi sure hopes so.

“Thank you.” Eren’s lips are curving into a tiny smile, and it’s the most beautiful thing Levi’s ever seen. “I’ll try to take good care of it.”

“I know you will,” he says, more to himself than to Eren since the kid is already up and ready to continue,  newfound enthusiasm in his voice.

One of the members of his squad outright whimpers when told to get up and resume training, another one actually has the gall to talk back at Eren, but none of them even mention the delicate daffodil now tucked behind his ear.

Doodle | Jungkook

genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff, a nice pinch of angst if you squint, soulmate!au, slight artist!jungkook

word count: 1,655 i tried

description: “soulmate!au where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker, it will show up on your soulmate’s skin as well”

warning: cuss words, innocent baby kook becomes fuckboy kook


i got inspiration for this post from a text post about a list of soulmate!au ideas, couldn’t find it though yikes.

Originally posted by nnochu

Soulmates. A term to describe two people that were born for each other– a term so strong in this world it would be completely unacceptable to call anyone that unless you share the same markings on your skin.

The day you learned what soulmates were exactly and how your world viewed soulmates was the day you first began to notice how once in a while, little doodles that looked like they were made by a ballpoint pen etched their way onto the skin of your arms and hands. You had just turned eight and as all eight year olds are, you was curious. You approached your mother and asked her about it and she squealed in joy. That day, both of your parents sat you down and explained that there was another person somewhere out there, that was drawing that exact design on their skin and that they were your soulmate. At the time, you didn’t exactly understand what they were saying but as you grew older, you began to understand what a soulmate exactly is. 

By the age of 15, you would stare at your skin in awe and wonder during class as small but intricate drawings slowly spread across your forearm. You would always look forward to what your assumed soulmate would come up with next. However, you never really thought to draw anything on your own skin as you were so encompassed and enthralled by the little sketches that would decorate your entire left arm. 

After many. many years of having doodles fill up your arm, you began to learn about the person that was considered your soulmate. He was right-handed for sure, as the drawings only appeared on your left arm. He was also very creative because no drawing had ever been the same. But, there was almost always a star involved which showed he enjoyed the night sky. He also drew constellations. Slowly, you found myself falling for this boy you had never talked to, but only seen the drawings that he would sketch out.

When you were nearing the end of senior year in high school, your mom began to bug you about writing a time and date and place on your skin so this mysterious boy and you could finally meet up but every time you would tell her that if it really was fate, you both would meet without arranging a meeting.

Once you hit sophomore year of college, the drawings stopped. It was like he had dropped off the face of the earth. After two weeks of no drawings, marks, even just small doodles that used to appear every single day, you began to freak out. You thought that the boy that was your apparent soulmate had died. But then a phone number appeared on your skin at 11 on a Friday evening. And then another one the next day. And then another one the next Friday. And another. And another. Some of them came with hearts and others came with blatant phrases like “let’s fuck another time” or “call me for another round, baby.” It absolutely broke your heart once you saw the first message and you began to realize that maybe, the man that you thought would be your soulmate thought that it was complete bullshit.

After that night, you never dared look at your arms and always wore long sleeve, never wanting to see the amount of phone numbers or “love notes.” Now, you’ve completely blocked your so-called “soulmate” from your mind and began to go out more and hang out with friends.

You woke up one morning and looked at the clock. “Fuck!” you exclaimed as you shot out of bed, realizing that you were an hour late to your morning class. You rushed to get ready, grumbling to yourself about how you need to get a new alarm clock that actually wakes you up on time. You rushed out of the dormitories after grabbing your backpack and began to speed-walk to the building where your classes were on campus. But, of course with your luck, you were stopped by a friend.

“Heyyy! Y/N!” Yoona– your friend– called out once she saw you, grabbing your arm.

You looked over to her in a rush and nodded, “Hi, Yoona, what is it? Sorry, I’m in a big rush.”

She nodded in understanding and got to the point, “Are you still on for coffee at the new cafe downtown at 3″

“Shoot! I totally forgot!” you cursed to yourself, “I’ll be there but I completely forgot what it’s called and I’ll most likely forget the time.”

“Don’t worry! I can just write it on your hand,” she offered, already grabbing a pen and your hand and writing down the name of the cafe and the time to meet before you could protest. She said a quick goodbye and let you be on your way. You read your hand and shrugged, realizing that even if your “soulmate” saw it, he wouldn’t even care. You then rushed into class.


Ever since Jungkook was little and had heard about the whole soulmate thing when he was six, he began to avidly practice drawing on pieces of paper so he could impress what he called his “future wife.” Once he was eight, he finally gained enough courage to begin to draw on his skin to start telling his soulmate that he was alive and here. He continued to draw every single day on his skin for the rest of the week, hoping he would get a drawing back. Sadly, he didn’t. Instead of jumping to the worst conclusion, he was hopeful and thought that it was because she was also practicing her drawing for him. Little did he know that the one who was his soulmate was just so fascinated in his drawings that she never thought to draw any back.

Years passed and Jungkook’s faith in soulmates slowly began to fade away. In high school, he believed that his soulmate was never even born, or had died early and that he didn’t deserve “true love.” But because of hope, he continued all throughout high school. It wasn’t until sophomore year of college did his friend Taehyung tell him to give up, as it was tearing Jungkook up so much. Taehyung began to introduce Jungkook to the party scene so he could forget all about the ‘dumb idea of a soulmate’ as Taehyung put it– although he was a complete believer in true love, he only did it for Jungkook’s sake.

After partying for two weeks and not drawing anything on his skin during that time, he slowly pushed back the thoughts of true love and began to focus on a temporary love.. in other words, a temporary lust. He started with flirting which he had never done before other than to a mirror or his friend to practice for when he met his soulmate and once he was confident enough, he began to invite him home. Many girls wrote numbers on his wrists and no one would ever see him without a girl on his arm whether it be at a party, or on campus. If someone did see him without a girl right next to him, it was when he was in front of them and telling them that they were done, without an expression on his face. He soon developed the nickname “Iceboy” due to his icy and cold appearance and heart.

A couple months later and he was still at it, but this time he had a different girl every night and maybe even two or three a day. While chatting up a girl in the hallway of a class building– having her against the wall as he propped up against the wall with his own arm– he saw something slowly appear on his arm. His eyes widened and he stopped what he was saying to stare at the thick black lines of words on the back of his hand. He realized that the thing written on his hand was a place and time, and it could’ve only been written by– no, no way– his soulmate! He looked at his watch and realized the time written on his hand was only five minutes away and he immediately pushed himself off of the wall and made his way to the parking lot where his car sat. Of course, the girl that he had against the wall called out his named in her whiny, high pitched voice but he ignored it, persistent to see if he really did have a soulmate. 

He hopped in the car, pulling out his phone and typing in the destination’s name to get instructions on where to go. He followed the directions into this quaint but modern-type cafe and made his way inside.

He looked around, noting that there was only two girls sitting at a table and a family sitting on the couch. He kept his eyes on the girls and grabbed a Sharpie from his bag. His eyes traveled down to her hand that lied on the desk and began drawing one of his favorite constellations right on the back of his other hand. He watched her glance down at her hand and gasp before slowly bringing her hand up to look at the drawing that began to appear. A smile pushed past his lips as he began to walk towards her quickly. He placed his hands on the table, showing both of the same exact matching markings on their hands. He could feel his heart quicken once their eyes met and he found himself not wanting to look away. He lost his breath before another grin framed his lips.

He took a deep breath before saying the words that he’s wanted to say for a very long time. 

“I finally found you.”

And when I’m gone... - Bruce Wayne/Batfam x Reader

Summary : The Batfamily’s reaction to your death…

I just wanted to write a sad piece today, because of reasons, so…yeah. Hope you’ll still like it, and that it’s not too shitty :

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

_______________________________________________________________________

You promised you’d fight, and fight you did. With all your energy…but it wasn’t enough. It took you away from them anyway.

As Jason would say : “Cancer’s a bitch”. 

This sickness was wickedly cruel. It gave so much false hope to your children and husband…A few days before you died, you were getting better, doctors were hopeful, you started to really have a chance. You felt better than you ever did in that last year, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d get to see your babies grow up into the wonderful adults you were sure they’d became, and you were going to be able to grow old with your Bruce. However, the disease had another idea, and after this almost miraculous recovery…you got worst than ever and were dead before the end of the week.

Cancer’s a bitch. 

In the span of a short little year, it had taken you to the grave, and left behind six broken men. Or rather, two men and four boys who would have to learn how to be men without you. 

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Liberty and Justice (NSFW)

Eggsy Unwin x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Kingsman/Avengers AU - The Avengers are a branch of the Statesmen located in New York, Eggsy and Merlin have come to the states in search of Harry and you have been assigned to work with Eggsy to help find the man who may have kidnapped him causing Bucky (Sergeant) to get a little jealous.

Warnings: Smut

A/N: DONE! If there are any glaring grammatical errors just let me know and I’ll fix it in the morning. I’m too tired right now. I pulled these images off google to make this gif so I don’t know who the original artists are. If you do let me know and I’ll credit them. Glad I finally managed to write this because I honestly wasn’t sure how I was going to do it at first but I’m (sort of) pleased with the result. Also, this is still a reader fic but because everyone in Kingsmen and Statesmen going by code names the reader and the Avengers go by code names. Just trust me on this.


“Are you fucking serious? I have to go back there?” Eggsy groaned, throwing a small tantrum.

“Yes Eggsy, you and I have to go back to see the Statesmen, they are the only ones who can help us find Harry.” Merlin sighed. “But don’t worry, we are going to see the New Yorkers this time, not the mid-westerners.”

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unbreakable

this is just a little spec fic I wrote after tonight’s episode. i’m very sleepy and this is very un-beta-ed, but enjoy!


This wasn’t the first time.

The first time someone had tried to break him.

Physically, mentally, emotionally, he had endured so much in his life, by now he should be numb.

How much easier would it be for him if he just didn’t feel anything anymore?

He had lost track of the days he had spent chained up in this cold, dark room. The hours he was alone were almost harder than Adrian’s visits because the only company he had was the words of his captor echoing in his mind, imprinting themselves as truths, continuing his torture.

Old wounds that had never fully healed had been reopened, not just the ones currently dripping blood all over the concrete he was laying on, but deep emotional ones that had been hastily patched up underneath whatever crisis was more of a priority that year than giving them time to heal. Adrian knew everything about him, knew where to twist the knife to make him scream, to haunt him with memories he had tried to forget.

He knew his teammates were looking for him, knew they wouldn’t stop until they found him, but every minute he spent here made him more afraid that time had run out, that Adrian had gotten to them, one by one, before they got to him.  

The sound of the metal door scraping the floor caused every muscle in his body to tense up in preparation for whatever blow would be delivered to him this time. Would it be the one that finally shattered him?

Lifting his head ever so slightly, he saw in the dim light through his blurred vision a sight that made his breath catch in his throat.  

“Oliver…”

She rushed forward, collapsing to the floor beside him and gently cradling his head in her hands.

“We need to hurry,” John’s voice reached his ears. “Adrian could be back any minute now and we need to get you two on your way.”

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why i went into guardians of the galaxy vol.2 apathetic & with low expectations and came out with my crops watered, my skin cleared, my bills paid for and the angels singing (or – why everyone should please watch this blessed movie – MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD IF U CARE ABT THAT):

i just rly need to make this post bc this film was just So Good it took over my whole bitter-at-marvel being in under a week k thanks love u byyye:

1) okay, first: the whole movie was character-centric and contained. you had REAL EMOTIONAL RESOLUTION. and you had that real emotional resolution because they BUILT THE PLOT around the characters, rather than establishing a plot and having the characters enter from stage left. for one of the first times ever, I watched an ensemble superhero film where every single character got a decent individual arc that somehow complimented the central arc of the film, also character centric, and it worked. nearly all the arcs felt satisfying, because they were all interrelated, because they whole thing was about family. someone said that it was like, a really good fast and furious film in space but with no casual sexism, and tbh like …. really tru boys. the stakes of the film were in the characters, not the End Of The World or in some MacGuffin device. yes, ego’s machinations would have caused death and destruction on a galactic scale, but that was secondary to the real conflict; peter’s understanding of who his real father was, and, ultimately, who he was, through his relationship with his family – the other guardians. the movie was frickin’ hilarious, action-packed, and entertaining the whole way through, and gave you a unique story structure that didn’t feel like a cookie-cutter rehash of so many other action/superhero films we’re given lately. and when the movie ended, you felt alive. you felt like you really had closure, and that everything came together well, but you were also sad, and yet had also simultaneously had a really!!! fun!! time!!! 

just … i’ve seen so many sad attempts at ensemble movies in the past and while it’s obvious that writing an ensemble story is tricky, they really, really, truly, for the first time ever gave me the ensemble superhero film I have always wanted.

moving on:

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Would Never Call It Love | Finale

After many many many weeks of me being gone, I’ve finally gotten the courage to write the finale of a story that I’ve had so much fun writing, and have had so much fun seeing you guys reactions to it. This story is now my most popular with the most notes I’ve ever gotten on a post, and I can’t thank you guys enough for always pushing me to be a better writer. Sad to end this one, but I have ideas in store for a new story, can’t wait to share it with you guys hopefully soon :-). Enjoy.

(not my photo)

Previous parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 


This day had to come. This day was bound to creep on us sooner. This day may not seem huge to some people, but it’s huge to me. 

The last show of their first leg of the tour. Also known as, the day I’ve decided to go back home to my lonely, small, quiet home…all by myself.

When did I decide this? Probably about 5 hours ago at 7 am when I impulsively bought a plane ticket, while at breakfast with Luke, Ashton, and Arzaylea. While the couple talked throughout breakfast, Ashton kept nudging me and bugging me about what had me so fixated on my small screen, but he leaned over a little far at one point and gave an annoyed sigh before throwing his share for his own food and walked out of the eatery. Luke and Arzaylea still haven’t figured it out.

Now here I am, packing my things, the memories of the last couple of weeks with the boys coming down on me. I picked up a black and white stripped shirt that I wore the day of their 3rd concert, the one where Michael spilled a little too much water on me backstage after the show, and my bra peeked through; of course he didn’t seem to mind though. I then started placing the different colored bracelets Ashton gave me within the second week of tour inside a little pouch in my suitcase. They made me smile because they matched his, so I’d always have a little part of him.

Then it got to my lingerie and undergarments, many of which I wore when Calum was over. I held back tears, my throat becoming itchy, as I packed them deeply away underneath anything else I could. 

I heard a knock at my door, and saw Ash standing there, leaning against the door still looking displeased.

“You know they’re asking about what happened at breakfast right?” 

I only rolled my eyes. “Why am I not surprised.”

“I’m not telling them, you are.” He strode toward my suitcase and began taking out the nicely folded clothes and even took things out of the pouches. The room went silent when he saw the colorful bracelets, and even the same bra from that night when everything took a turn for the worst. He bent down and studied them both, the memories hitting him hard as well.

“After all these weeks, you still have these bracelets?” He questioned quietly. I only gave him a nod. “And this…I remember this little number…everything felt so right that night.” He smiled sadly at the moment that practically changed everything; the friendship, the relationship, his ability to forgive himself for one mistake.

“Well, at least for one person it did.” He threw it back down next to the bracelets and began striding out of the room. I took two big steps before pulling him by the cuff of his sleeve, stopping him.

“Don’t do that to me. You don’t get to be mad at me for the decision I’m making. So what if I’m leaving? So what if I don’t want to be here anymore? It is not my fault that because of my stupid mistakes I don’t want to be in a place where I am not welcome anymore Ashton. Sorry that you don’t have a choice. You’re a part of this band, these are your best friends and even though you’re having a fight with one of them doesn’t mean you can take it out on me because you can’t run away from it like I’m doing.”

“You’re being selfish. You’re thinking of only yourself. Which is exactly what Calum said the other night when you tried talking to him right?” Slap. Instantly my hand landed on his right cheek, making it head and hair whip to the side and cover his face. My breathing was heavier and louder, the feeling of my cheeks getting red growing. He turned his head back slowly, his eyes like dagger stabbing into my skin. I could just the anger dripping off of him.

“Y/N look…” he tried to sound sympathetic, but I only held up my finger and pointed it at the door.

“Just get out.” He knew he was defeated, and that he hit a spot in me that stung. Before I shut the door on him, he turned back slightly and whispered, “Just call me when you get there, please. I need to know that you’ll be safe.” I hummed in response, and shut the door, leaning my back against it. 


Hiding my suitcase backstage behind a bunch of curtains was surprisingly easy. It was easy access, and since I would be leaving 15 minutes before the end of the guys show, nobody would really know that I had left. The only person I’d truly have to say goodbye to is Ashton since he was the only one that knew, or so I thought.

Arzaylea caught me at the snack table and tugged on my jacket, getting as far away from the boys as possible. I gave her a confused look, waiting for her to tell me what was going on since she looked so worried.

“Arz, w-what’s going on-”

“I bugged Ashton for hours about what went wrong this morning, and he finally told me.” She crossed her arms staring me down, while I was looked down messing with my fingers.

“Look, please don’t be upset with me-”

“Oh, you think I’m just upset. That’s rich. I’m more than upset with you Y/N. You’ve become like a sister to me, I thought you were stronger and had more integrity than you’re showing right now. You’re letting a stupid boy get in the way of you living your best life. You think you’ve fucked up? You think I haven’t fucked up either! This-this is all just so disappointing.”

“You have to understand that I’m miserable here now. There’s never a day that goes by anymore that I don’t blame myself for how things have laid out the past couple of weeks. I’ve only made things worst since being here, when I wasn’t even suppose to be in the first place!” I felt the water prickle in my eyes, but clenched my fists to help make it go away.

“If you’re mad because you feel like once I’m gone you feel like we’ll never see or talk to me again, then I can make a promise that that won’t happen.” She only scuffed, but in an amusing way.

“That’s partly why.” She pushed my shoulder playfully as we both smiled at each other.

“I’ll still text you, facetime you and call you. Just because Calum and I can’t get along great doesn’t mean I have to give up some of the best people in my life. I just have to…give him some space. It’s for the best.” I peeked over her shoulder slightly to see Calum biting into a green apple, water bottle in his other hand. I couldn’t help but shutter at the veins popping out of his neck and how defined his jawline got when it jutted out to eat the piece of the apple. It’s the simple things Calum did that got under my skin.

Arzaylea pulled me into a tight hug then pulled back to smile at me, and proceeded to do what most girls do with their best friends, take a snapchat. She pulled up a funny filter to get me to calm down and smile, but after the picture was taken, something slimy and runny was piled on top of my head.

Arzaylea and I jumped back from each other as some of it did get on her too, then we turned around to find Nia with a smirk holding the big plate that was dead center of the snack table that was labeled “Spaghetti.” The crew and everyone stopped doing whatever they were doing, and watched to find out what was going to happen next.

“Nia what the fuck!” Arz yelled, wiping off the bits of tomato sauce that was now on her clothes and hair.

“She deserved it.” She came up close to my face, trying to intimidate me however I held my ground and stared her right back down.

“That’s for making Calum break up with me.” She chuckled. “You think he’d really eventually end up falling for you? Oh girl, you’ve got it so wrong. He told me all the awful things you’ve done to him, but don’t worry, I fucked all the bad feelings out of him.” Before I could hear another word, I pushed past her walking fast toward the curtain where my suitcase was located. Sure, I’d have to wait in the airport for almost 2 hours, but I couldn’t stand to be in anybody’s presence anymore. I felt an arm tug me around, and the same husky voice from before rang through my ears.

“Y/N what are you doing, you can’t leave now!” He yelled in my face.

“Ashton! Stop trying to make my decisions for me. You may love me but you don’t know what’s best for me.” His grip instantly loosened and I took the chance to take my arm from his hand. “Now let me go.” And grab my suitcase hoisting it up from the ground and running toward the back exit.

I didn’t see it, but I left Calum standing there with his food now sprawled across the floor at his feet, a dumbfounded look on his face, and for the first time in a while, an aching heart. 


Calum’s POV

The last show of this first leg of the tour was thrilling and exciting, but once my body left that crowd of energy and happiness, reality snapped back into me, and all my confusion and frustration came out of me when I chucked my water bottle at the nearest wall, and it exploded everywhere. Michael’s soft voice could be heard right behind me, telling me to calm down and to not take my anger out so aggressively like that because who knows, I could’ve hit a person instead. 

“Look, I know MIkey, I’m sorry…I just-I’m so confused right now.” We both plopped down on the couch in our dressing room, my hands coming up to my face.

“What did Ashton mean by ‘you can’t leave now’ when he was talking to Y/N? And what was in her hands when she was running away…”

“She left.”

My hands came down from my face, hoping and praying I’d see a laughing MIchael after that statement. It just couldn’t be true. But after a few seconds had passed, he continued to nod his head, as if he was still trying to make the situation seem real.

“She left Cal. She went back home tonight. Ashton told me before we went on stage tonight. He couldn’t tell you because he knew it would only distract you more. He just doesn’t want to keep making you mad mate, he cares for you so much even after everything.” His hand came up to my shoulder giving it a friendly squeeze. My chest sank lower in my chest trying to piece together just how bad everything had gotten, my life outside of the lights and music, was falling into shambles.

“I need to go make up with him first.” Michael smiled and agreed, both of us quickly grabbing our stuff before heading out. He informed me that Ashton had drove straight to the hotel we were staying at right after the show ended, and that Luke and Arzaylea were spending some time together tonight out and about. We headed straight after to him to patch things up. Even though that was the first thing on my mind, I was secretly hoping Y/N just might be there.


We raced up to the elevator and impatiently waiting until it reached our floor, only to find Ashton just closing his door as if he was leaving. I ran up to him and tackled him in a big hug, his weight leaning against mine to stop us from falling. I was holding him so tight the indents in my arms were showing through, and my hand veins were popping out. 

“Ash, ash I’m so sorry for everything dude. You come before anyone else and I shouldn’t have blamed you for everything happening.” We pulled away and he smiled so big his famous dimples showed, and the crinkles near my eyes accompanied my own smile.

“Cashton, always man.” And we did one of those bro handshakes, Michael leaning against the hallway wall watching this beautiful moment unfold. My eyes slowly drooped after things quieted down. Ashton could read my mind, and his arms reached out to gently rub my shoulders.

“So, she’s really gone?”

“I just got off the phone with her. I raced back here to see if she’d still be here but, no luck.” I shook my head in disbelief, disappointed in myself for being as stubborn as I was and almost losing my best friend, along with the girl of my dreams. “Her plane should be taking off soon, I’d say text her Cal. She needs to hear from you that you at least don’t hate her.”

“But that’s the point. I don’t hate her at all, I feel so strongly for her, more than I ever thought I could for someone…” Michael came behind me and leaned his head on me sighing. The weight of her gone now upon all of us. The atmosphere seemed different, the vibe between all of us was still off, as if the Earth was off its axis and everything seemed…wrong. 

“Why don’t we get some rest now guys, we’ve worked hard these past couple of weeks. Let’s enjoy these next few days before our next leg? Am I right?” We all agreed and they decided to walk with me to my room and stay the night, just so we knew that we were all there for each other if one of us needed something throughout the night.

As we entered the room, I walked in first to see a familiar jet black sleek suitcase sitting next to the door. My eyes widened and I looked up to see Ashton holding back a small grin, jutting out his chin, telling me to go see what I was already thinking. My legs quickly carried me past the small curve of the room into the bedroom, seeing a small Y/N sitting crossed legged on my bed in the first t-shirt I ever gave her to keep when I wasn’t around her, my Maine t-shirt.

She stood up upon hearing my loud strides and the shirt fell to just above her privates, her hair disheveled and her makeup slightly streaky, like she had been crying.

“Calum…” her voice croaked. I looked back at the boys, watching them in awe as Michael’s face lit up at the sight of her, Ashton looking proud. And they both walked slowly out of the room, leaving us alone.

“They told me you left…” I said in disbelief.

“I couldn’t…I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t get on that plane and fly away from you, not without fixing things first.” She walked closer to me timidly. I had to bring her closer, so I pulled her in by her waist, wrapping my large hand around the back of her head and placing it underneath my chin, my other hand tightly wrapped around her waist. My breathing became heavy, my heart beat racing, my head filling up with euphoric memories.

“You’re-you’re heart is beating so fast Cal…”

“It’s because it’s happy to be close to you again.” She pulled away to look up at me, her eyes glossy once again, a happy yet sad look in her eyes, as if she didn’t know how to feel in his moment.

“Y/N I am so sorry for never letting you have a chance at explaining things to me, or never giving you a chance to speak and finish your sentences. And I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize it and that it took you almost leaving for me to realize that I never stopped feeling for you. But I promise if you stay, right here, with me, you won’t ever have to go through something like this again. We could have the love we’ve always wanted.” I pleaded. Without hesitation she reached up and brought my face to meet hers, her lips lightly pressing the softest kiss we’d ever shared. I couldn’t help but deepen it, feeling her smaller frame pushed up against mine again. We rested our foreheads against one another as she brought her hands to rest on my chest, lightly rubbing her thumbs over the material.

“I wouldn’t have ever called this love before.” Gesturing to the past complicated relationship we had.

“What about right now?”

“It’s the only word I can use to describe it.”


YAY IT’S FINISHED. I was going to add smut but this alone took me 3 hours so I’m extremely tired you guys ;( request smut though if you want it! Again, thank you so much on the love for this story! I put up a ‘would you rather’ post so if you could, please look at it and tell me which story you’d like to write next. Btw GGMOW will be up soon as well!

A Letter From You PT2

AN: HERE IT IS! I’m sorry it’s not super long… Thanks to @teen-mendes for.. well I think you know why and @saysweartogod bc I needed to be threatened Shit also thank you for the insanely overwhelming response for the first pt. It was incredible and hopefully this lives up to it 

Part 1


Originally posted by pickeringgod

I almost knock on the door, considering how I’ll feel if I see her face again. If she sees me, again. Will she yell? Beg me to leave? Ask me to say? Give me a look of pain, wondering what came over me to suddenly show up? Will my craving of her finally turn back to my reality?

Instead I leave the letter on the ground, covering it so it won’t blow away. Just that simple task gives me hope she’ll read it. Of course she will. No matter how many voices in her head tell her no she’ll have to know what words I wrote.


“So it’s done?” I nod, slipping out of me shoes and the jean jacket she gave me. Aaliyah is leaning again the wall, but I can’t figure out the blank expression on her face. I know it’s been hard on her. To keep herself together when I’m the one who’s affected in a different way, but I won’t pretend like Aaliyah isn’t hurt. That’d be stupid.

“Do you want to do something today? We could drive into Toronto? Go to the mall?”

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—One of these nights 💔touken&blackreaper headcanon

summary: Months after turning into the Black Reaper, Kaneki makes Touka a phone call.

I think I’m gonna keep doing this for a while now, “mini fics” for certain headcanons that I don’t feel like writing as a 3,000(or more) word fic due to many reasons (lack of inspiration, the plot not being strong enough for a long fic, things I wanna keep short..) all of these mini fics (that will reach their limit with 1,000 words approx..) will end with “headcanon” at the end of the title… you can read the rest of these headcanons // mini fics series here, and I will add the link on my fics page as well. These headcanons will have a very poor and light writing, so don’t expect the greatest prose of all—hence the whole point of being just a headcanon, haha. You can also request headcanons/mini fics for me to write this way, it’s way easier and faster(&less frustrating) than writing a whole one-shot :’) remember, these are not full fics like most of my writings, so there might be some writing differences! 

enjoy this little thing!


It’s been months since Haise went to :re.

Actually, almost a year.

Yes, Touka kept the count. It would have been embarrassing to admit it years ago when she was still a teenager, when proud was like a shield that would protect her lonely and wrinkled heart from people obsessed with abandon her. But she’s not proud anymore, and her arms feel way too tired to keep holding the shield against her chest when her heart has been already torn apart so many times. She has lost so much already, that sometimes she feels that there’s nothing else to lose anymore. So it won’t matter… it won’t matter.

She counts the days, the minutes, the hours, as she feels Yomo’s gaze upon her back, parting his lips to say something (something that she fears it may sound like “he’s not coming back”) but quickly shouting them again, not finding the courage to speak. She stares behind the window, waiting for something, always waiting for something… but nothing appears.

Last time Haise visited :re, he decided that he would be a bold guy. Girls like bold guys, and if he really wanted for that pretty waitress to set his eyes on him and actually see him, instead of seeing something else (he had that vague impression sometimes), he decided to give a small but decided first step. When she turned around towards the counter after delivering him his coffee, he took a paper and a pen and with shaky hands he wrote a simple but important question.

“Can I have your number?
-Haise.”

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Friday Night Yikes

masterlist

pairing: hamilsquad x reader

word count: 2400

warnings: swearing, period talk!

summary: game night wasn’t quite going as planned.

a/n: for all you lovely people who may be going through that time of the month, this is for you (and me bc i had cramps all day n im suffering) enjoy


Friday was game night and movie night.

“Yo, Alex, where’d you put the Coke?” John Laurens called, his head stuck inside of the fridge.

“In the drawers with the vegetables,” Alexander Hamilton, who was finishing up an essay, answered from his bedroom.

John looked at you, perched on the countertop, and rolled his eyes. You laughed and swung your legs back and forth, leaning your head back against the cabinet.

You had become friends with the boys your first year of university, although you didn’t quite see them as much as you liked due to your course load. You were taking five classes and spent every minute living in a state of constant stress and worry. You were at school from 9 to 6 every single day, with only a half an hour break at lunch, and when you got home you were either revising, writing essays, or sleeping. The guys tried to get you to go out with them, but you were always too busy. This was upsetting for every party in the situation, but especially you, because you just wished you hadn’t taken so many courses from the beginning. If you hadn’t, you would be able to spend time with people who made you feel genuinely happy and free. Finally, right after your finals in your second year, you had a breakdown (that Hercules Mulligan had to sop up your tears during) and decided that you would take two less classes your third year. By the time September rolled around, you were a lot less stressed. And yes, you still had a lot of work to do, but at least now you could spend some amount of time every week dedicated to your boys. Friday was the day that worked best for everyone. So Friday became your date night.

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the art of slaying dragons

“Cooking is at once child’s play and adult joy. And cooking done with care is an act of love.”
― Craig Claiborne

Nalu | Chef/RivalsToLovers AU
part 1/? 

words: 1475
rated: M
read: all

I can’t even believe it myself, but I am… back?! And it feels great. :’) I know I haven’t written in ages but I hope you haven’t forgotten me entirely my pals my buddies my frends… and this time around I’m writing about one of the great loves of my life: food. ;) Well, maybe not only about food. But there will be food. Yum.

 Cooking, despite what some might try to tell you, is an art.

It is art, and it is magic. There is art in an idea, in the careful execution, in the swirls and patterns of thoughtful arrangement on a simple plate. There is magic in old, scribbled recipes that endure time, in the love you pour into your creations, in that first bite. It is in the smiles of the people who taste your food, in the way they come to know you without ever having met you, because you took a part of your soul and held it to their lips.

The art of cooking—

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Resisting the urge to hurl her pen against the next wall, Lucy Heartfilia leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Maybe this was why she had not become a food critic in the end. As much as she loved writing, it did not come easy to her. It was hard. What she could do, however – what she had taught herself to do with passion and endurance – was to create dishes that spoke for her. Or at least she hoped that was what she did. Some days, she didn’t know anymore.

Maybe this wasn’t the best time in her life to be writing an article for a renowned food magazine, when she wasn’t even sure if she deserved to be in it. With a heavy sigh, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tried to focus on the task at hand.

But she did not finish it that night, or the night after.


“Chef, appetizer for table six is ready to go.”

“Thanks, Cana. Gajeel, ready to go on the main?”

“Aye.”

“Cana, send it out. Gajeel, start in five. I want this energy to continue, alright team?”

“Yes, Chef!”

Lucy was in her element. She was in control. Everything happening was happening as it should; the magic (as she liked to call it) was flowing splendidly tonight. Yesterday’s doubts were still in the back of her mind, the anxiety over that new restaurant across the street a thorn in her side, but for tonight she pushed it all away. This year, she reassured herself, would be the year she would finally earn her first michelin star.

There was no one who could do it like Lucy Heartfilia. No restaurant that could rival The Fairy’s Tail, not in this street or this city or the entire fucking country. She had to believe this.

“Chef. Chef! Lucy!”

Blinking away her stupor, Lucy gave a start. She found herself confronted with the stern face of her head waitress, Aquarius. She swallowed. The scowl on her face bode nothing well.

“The guest at table seven asked to speak to you.”

All that Lucy heard in her tone and bearing was ‘What did you do wrong now, silly girl?’ but she merely nodded and skidded away from the woman’s likely wrath. Lucy might be her boss, but god, could Aquarius still be scary after all these years.

Scary, too, was the prospect of meeting that guest. It didn’t help that Aquarius had not hinted at the nature of the request. Would she be met with a complaint or a compliment?

Pondering this simple yet nerve-wrecking question, she made her way through the kitchen doors and out into the dining area, into her restaurant. For Lucy, it was the kitchen which felt most like home: this was where she lived as much as she worked. But here, amidst neatly decked tables and careful arrangements, amidst the sound of conversation, softly clinking cutlery and low laughter, here was where the soul of her restaurant lay. It felt good to remember that from time to time. Here, what she did felt easy and joyful and right. The blood, sweat and tears that had brought her to this point lay behind her, forgotten easily in the face of what her work could accomplish. Steaming plates, inviting dishes, colourful details… it all looked so simple, despite the hours of thought so many people had put into it. Her food brought people together; it made them smile.

And that was all she had ever wanted, in a way.

The table she was headed for was one of the small ones close to the wall, with the soft emerald cushions. There was only one person sitting there, comfortably lodged between table and wall, looking entirely at peace with the world. Some of the tension dropped off Lucy’s shoulders. His eyes moved and caught her approaching, and the smile that spread across his face lit up his eyes in a way that was, she found, entirely pleasant. A very good, content smile.

Her initial impression, however, was quickly redacted when she arrived at the table and he opened his mouth. 

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L$D

Jughead X Reader

Wordcount: 1,888 

Request:  Bit of a different request, but could you do something where Jughead is helping the reader recover from past substance abuse and addiction?

Warnings: Mentions on substance abuse, swearing, angst 

A/N: This issue is very personal to home with me, that’s why I’m writing it. Last year I lost a friend due to substance abuse, and many of my friends take drugs recreationally and have become addicted, so I’ve dealt with addiction first-handedly. I’ve seen the way this has affected them and it’s not a pretty sight. There is plenty of support out there if anyone ever needs to speak to someone about substance abuse. My inbox is always open if anyone wants a chat…Even if it isn’t about substance abuse. 

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the heir - pt.1

Group : BTS 

Member : Park Jimin 

Word Count :  3,423

Description : It has been eight years, long enough for you to forget about him. But seeing your son everyday, who is almost a duplication of him, always brings back the painful memories of how the only one you had ever loved had died eight years ago. Killed by the police for being a criminal who had broken into a bank and kidnapped a hostage.  

next 

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Summary: After Betty confronts her dad about Polly’s and Jason’s engagement as well as learning about the Coopers - Blossoms feud, there’s only one person that can take her mind off things. (Takes place after Betty’s and Hal’s fight and before Bughead’s scene at the Blue & Gold.)

(Taking a small break from your prompt requests to write something that stuck in my head and I had to get it out lol. I was listening to Let It All Go by Birdy feat. Rhodes and I had way too many feels so yeah… Hope you like it guys!!)


The Hitchcock blonde was once again locked in her floral pastel room that nowadays didn’t seem to match the air of depression that spread around the whole town and, most specifically, this very house. Soft music was playing in the background, the girl wanting to silence down the million thoughts that were running inside her head and suppress her still boiling anger and deep disappointment at both her parents. Usually, her mother would always win first place in the list of people Betty felt smothered by but after that evening, her dad was ranking a close second. She was at least thankful that he had the good sense to let her be, keeping himself busy in the house office downstairs for hours.

Dear Diary,

I don’t even know who my parents are anymore. How can the two people that are supposed to be everyone’s most valuable confidants in life, hide behind so many lies and weave webs of conspiracy and mystery around innocent teenage kids? How can I not know what is going on in my own house, with my own sister? They keep pushing me to drop the subject, stop snooping around and bury it all under the carpet like they did and for what? An idiotic vendetta that probably costed the life of two kids that did nothing wrong but fell in love. Why do we have to break so hard? Why does my life get to be filled with such uncertainty and fear of what the future will reveal next? I dread even to think about the obvious, I try so hard to hold my mind back, for it to not go there but it is already there and I feel scared. Sometimes I wish I was just another person, the identity of Elizabeth Cooper to not weight so much on my shoulders…”

The characteristic sound of pen against paper stopped and the red ink covered peak hovered over the rest of the empty line, Betty taking a moment to breath and slow down the gradually quicker raise and fall of her chest. One of her usual panic attacks was the last thing she needed right now, she thought and closed her eyes, dropping her head back against the wall, clutching the teal cover of her diary inside her icy cold fingers. She didn’t know how many hours had spent there, sitting on the wooden bench of her window and pouring into paper the anger and extreme sense of unfairness she felt after the fight she had hours ago with her father. But the worst of all, she felt hopeless, too small in a secret too big for her to handle, something that made her eyes whale up with tears again. She brought a palm to softly swipe the corner of her right eye in hopes of stopping the waterfalls but she failed, letting them finally be and watching as they soaked the paper in small shy droplets.

The chime of her phone had her eyes lazily turning to the side to face the machine, not in the mood of interacting with people right now. The message that brightened the screen surprised her though.

Don’t cry. Please.

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