My First Fic - Blog Posts

Sunday tea with the king

summery: the King and Virgil used to have tea every Sunday, but now Virgil is left with an empty seat at a table by a bay, with extra macaroons, and a cup of tea untouched. Roman left with a faint memory of fine china and kind eyes. Remus is left with the faded memory of macaroons and a table by a sparkling bay. Both of them share the memory of loving Sundays. Patton’s guilt will forever eat at his chest, and he will do anything to make it up to Roman and Remus.

Warnings: sympathetic Remus, mention of food, a deformed Horse, Remus being Remus, capitals, bad grammar.

Author notes: this is my second time writing this, cause I’m an idiot and deleted the first one. I’m doing this a second time because I can’t find a thing on the relationship between Virgil and The King.

word count: 1193

Masterpost

AO3

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The King's decision to split was the Kings and his alone. He wanted to rid himself of the memories of Patton’s disappointed stares after he gave a “bad” idea. The soft knocks of Virgil on his door to come in and hold him as his cries turned to whimpers.

he had to lose something too. The King lost the memories of studying different animals, judging people in court with Janus in the imagination, and he lost the memories of Sunday tea by the bay with Virgil. Yet there is something that lingers in both Roman’s and Remus’ brains.

Roman remembers some of their time with Janus, and tea in fine china, and  kind eyes .

Remus remembers their time with Logan somewhat, along with a sparkling bay, and macaroons.

Both think the memories that have, the kind eyes, a sparkling bay, tea in fine china cups, and macaroons, are connected because when those memories come to thought so does the love for Sunday. Neither of them knew why but an overwhelming love for Sunday has always been there.

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

It was Sunday and Virgil knew that he shouldn't cry, but the ache for his old tea parties was rampaging through his soul. He knew that the decision to split was the Kings and the King had made it, but that did not get rid of the want for those happy days of macaroons, gossip, and tea in fine china tea cups. Virgil still had the macaroons and tea in fine china cups, but no gossip, dirty jokes, or happy smiles. 

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

Roman and Remus both decided to find out the mystery of Sunday. They went to who they thought would never ban them from knowledge, Logan.

“Hey Logan, are you in here,” Roman yelled into the giant study that was Logan’s room. Logan walked through two bookshelves to the two brothers. “Yes, I’m right here Roman,” Logan said. “oh good, I was wondering if you knew why we like Sundays so much, I mean it could be any day of the week but it’s always Sunday, why is that?” Logan looked panicked after Roman said that. “Hey Lolo why you look like we just asked how to murder you?” Remus said. Logan glanced at both of them, took a deep breath and said, “sorry you two but I’m not the one who should tell you.”

“That is fine” both the brothers said sadly.

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

Both knew that they wouldn’t get a straight answer from Janus, so they went to Patton. the one that both of them had no memories of from before the split.

“Hey Pat,” Roman said to Patton who was making lunch. 

“oh hey kiddos, whats up!”

“me and Remus were wondering if you knew anything about our memories that don’t have anyone in them by the bay?”

Patton suddenly looked sad. “Oh yeah, I do. Do you want to know where the bay is? I’m pretty sure that he doesn't come back till later so you can ask all the questions you want to him. He was the one that knew the King the best...”

“Yes, yes, yesity, yes, please with a juicy butt hole on top,” Remus said smiling viciously.

Patton looked pained not to throw up right there on the spot, “Right... it’s in the King’s imagination, by the chestnut bay is the butterfly meadow. Don’t go close to the butterflies. They can poison you just by touching you unless you have a special charm, they only person that has the charm is Him.”

“Who is this Him, you keep mentioning, he seems important because he has access to the King’s imagination, along with having a charm that no one else has, and him knowing the King better than anyone else?” Roman said.

Patton just smiled and said, “that is for you to find out when you get there.” With that he started making lunch again.

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

Both brothers stood at the door to the King’s Imagination. Roman took hold of the detailed gold handle, and pushed. the door swung open, the brothers walked through. The air was filled with the sweet scent of lavender and roses. Remus summoned a horse with their bones showing here and there. Roman summoned a white steed with flowers and golden thread in its mane. both mounted their rides and began the trek to the meadow.

The sights were beautiful like Roman’s, but deadly like Remus’ Imagination. when they got to the meadow they had nearly died three times, THREE!

 They saw a Friesian horse tied to an old oak tree, a little bit after at a white table with fine china cups with a flower pattern on them. a display with macaroons on it was in the middle. seated at that table was a man in a black hoodie with purple patches stitched into it, the stitches were exaggerated, drinking from a floral tea cup. It was Virgil.

Roman and Remus approached through the soft grass. Roman cleared his throat, Virgil opened his eyes and looked straight (gay) at them. seeing that it was them his poster softened a bit. “hey, guys’ I’ pretty sure that you guys’ want to know about the king?” 

“Yup,” roman said, ”we want to know why we love Sundays so much and who it was in our memories, but you being here answers who it was, but not why we love Sundays.”

“Well it is possible that the reason that the king loved Sundays so much is because he used to join what I'm doing right now, except we used to have more gossip, and sometimes Remy, plus the dirty jokes.”

“would you like to join me?” Virgil asked.

“Sure,” Roman said, grabbing Remus and sitting down. the tea pot raised up on it’s own and poured some tea into the cups. Remus started stuffing his face with the macaroons. Virgil let out a laugh as tears started forming in his eyes, “ the King used to do the same thing.” tears started to escape his eyes, smudging his eye-shadow on their way down. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t be crying,” Virgil said, wiping the tears away, serving to smudge the eye-shadow. Roman and Remus got up from their chairs, and held the crying boy.

what they didn’t know was both of their Imaginations were becoming one hooking themselves to the King’s Imagination, and at that moment the land was completely done moving, the land masses were now one. the memories of the king rushed through both of their brains, both of the brothers now remembered all of it.

“It’s okay Vivi we both remember now.” Remus said holding Virgil closely.

“Yeah storm cloud, we remember all of it. we may never be the King but we are still parts of him, and all of him loved you with his whole heart. so of course we love you.” Roman said holding Virge just as close.

they didn’t know how long they stayed like that, Remus and Roman holding V as he cried whispering sweet things. And as a result none of them noticed Patton smiling from the tree line. After all Patton will do everything to make it up to those two.

Echoes Of The Rain

Synopsis: Bakugou Katsuki grieves the loss of his best friend (rival? lover?) beneath rain-filled skies. He catches a glimpse of Midoriya Izuku's ghost, a shadow of what he once was. He is forced to confront the pain of holding on—and the inevitability of letting go.

Preview: "With every otherworldly meeting between the two, the details he had once held so dearly—Izuku’s laugh, the way his hair felt under his fingertips, the warmth of his touch—were slipping from his grasp. He could no longer count the freckles on the boy's face—a number he once knew by heart. The rain was washing it all away."

Words: 2.1k

Tags: bkdk, major character death, grief/mourning, healing, hurt/comfort, ghosts, regretful bakugou katsuki, unresolved emotional tension, bittersweet ending

Notes: my first work lol been thinking about getting this off my mind for soo long please free me of my shackles.. also cross-posted on ao3!!

Raindrops kiss the grass. Echoes linger in the storm. Dreams fade, soaked in gray.

Bakugou Katsuki was no stranger to solitude. He didn’t mind being alone—preferred it, most days. Yet, every so often, his feet found their way back to the river.

The rain hit hard, relentless. It soaked through his clothes, ran in cold rivulets down his spine. He barely noticed. He just stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight. It had been weeks. Weeks since Izuku had—since he was gone. And still, the stupid nerd wouldn’t leave him alone.

Katsuki had always hated the rain. It made him feel weak and pitiful—just as he feels now. He stared solemnly at the riverbank; the pitter-patter of the rain masking his cascading tears.

He missed the nerd. Every damn thing about him. From his incessant muttering to the foolish look in his eyes whenever he called him "Kacchan". His mind wandered back to their second fight in Ground Beta. Back then, Katsuki couldn't believe he was having a panic attack in front of him. In hindsight, the vulnerability had been a strange relief. It felt cathartic to pummel him into the ground, a twisted form of therapy. He'd never say this to Izuku's face, but he was thankful he stuck by him through every moment of prideful stupidity.

He would have taken a lifetime of coming second to Izuku over this. Katsuki kneels into the muddy earth, eyes glossing over. The rage inside does little to quiet the voices overtaking his conscience. Every wave of anger begrudgingly surges within, moving in rhythm with the water's ebb. How does one simply get over the loss of their soulmate? He knows he shouldn't be feeling like this, that Izuku didn't mean to leave him, that he died the noblest death a hero ever could.

He saw him in the back of his mind—a constant presence, a painful reminder of the beacon of light he is now devoid of. Katsuki slams his fists into the ground wrathfully, bitterly aware of how pathetic he looks. It felt pointless to keep pushing forward, to keep throwing himself into the fray without an equally persistent rival—his rival. Who would chase after him? Or rather, who would he chase after? He wishes, more than anything, for Izuku to show up. For a passing instance, Katsuki wonders if Izuku remembered the last time they were both here, together.

The cacophony surrounding him made his heart ache. How could the clouds continue to weep? How could the stream continue to ripple? How could his own heart continue to beat—when Izuku was gone? It pounded in his chest, forming an unsteady rhythm, making a mockery of the silence his twin flame had left behind.

Katsuki tilts his neck upward, hair drenched and clinging to his forehead. His usual fierce glare is absent, replaced by a vacant, almost lost expression. The rain poured unceasingly, cold and heavy, but it didn’t wash away the tension in his jaw or the way his shoulders slumped, as though the weight of the world was too much to carry. His crimson eyes, usually sharp and cutting, are dulled by grief, clouded with a deep, aching sadness.

He exhaled sharply and tipped his head back. His hair stuck to his forehead, his vision blurred with rain. He should go. He should stop standing here like an idiot and move. But his legs wouldn’t work.

And then—

A flicker.

His breath caught, sharp and sudden. His heart slammed against his ribs. It was just the mist, the rain playing tricks on him. That’s all it was.

An eerie stillness settles in. Izuku's outline glisters before him—indistinct, translucent. Like embers of a fire, barely hanging on. It's just a hallucination, he tells himself. And yet, his own hands betray him, mindlessly reaching out. His chest tightens, a flood of unspoken words caught in his throat. Despite all the time spent contemplating what he'd do if he got one last moment with Izuku, Katsuki subdues. All the overwhelming rage that filled him before diminishes, replaced by an unwelcome emptiness.

The air is thick, heavy enough to cut with a knife. Neither speaks; no words of comfort or regret passed between them. Izuku's expression is light and carefree, his lips curling into a soft smile that seemed at odds with the grief that weighed down Katsuki's heart. His expression softened, mouth opening and closing, an embarrassing lack of words coming out. Izuku stood there, hazy with a delicate aura outlining his figure—untouched by the rain.

To Katsuki, Izuku was everything. His beautifully radiant eyes seemed to glimmer, outshining any star in the sky—green as twin pools of emerald. Katsuki had to physically restrain himself from reaching out to smooth his dark tousled curls, as if he could make everything right by simply touching him.

Izuku’s silhouette stood out starkly against the dim, wet background. It served Katsuki as a reminder that he was no longer looking up into the face of his companion; but a fleeting memory that he no longer had the right to hold on to. He had always thought of Izuku as some kind of hero, but more than that, he saw him as something more—a myth, a God of serenity and grace, too untouchable, too beautiful, for him to grasp.

His hands fall back to his sides, trembling with quiet desperation. Damn it. Katsuki clenches his fists tighter, swallowing back a surge of frustration. What the hell is wrong with me? He didn't want to look so weak in front of Izuku—was this even him?—his breath hitching unevenly. But oh, of course he'd notice. Ever the kind soul, he lowers himself to Katsuki's level, his comforting presence glinting just in front of him. Katsuki can't help himself—his heart pounds as Izuku’s arms reach out, wiping away tears he didn’t even realise had fallen. The touch feels real—cold, yet strangely comforting against his skin. And for an ephemeral moment, it almost feels like everything would be okay again.

Katsuki’s breath shudders as he feels the phantom touch seep into his bones, like ice-cold water flooding an open wound. Izuku's fingers move towards him—hesitant, gentle—thumbs brushing over the other's cheeks. He handles him with the utmost care, as though he might shatter like glass at any moment. Izuku’s touch was paradoxical—both a lifeline and a cruel reminder of how far beyond his reach he truly was. His gaze remained unswerving, tracing the delicate lines of his face. Katsuki had never felt so vulnerable, so powerless.

His tears mingled with the tempest’s fury, as if the storm itself were mourning beside him. Katsuki’s breath hitched, a sharp tremor running through him, as if the weight of his grief took on a tangible form, like an anchor, dragging him into the ocean’s depths. He calls out to him, voice cracking, as though it might break entirely. The other's expression takes on something akin to sorrow, a look that Katsuki thought didn't belong on his face. Reluctantly, he welcomed the touch. He could feel every careful movement as if Izuku was trying to hold him together, piece by fragile piece. He wanted to pull away—he always did when someone tried to comfort him—but his touch just felt so right.

Izuku couldn’t help but run his fingers across Katsuki’s jaw. His muscles rippled as though they were carved from marble, moving with a swift grace that betrayed the vulnerability in his expression. He would never know it, but Izuku thought his beauty divine, unearthly—hidden behind a mask of anger and conceit. Like a force of nature, his presence commanded the skies above. There’s an undeniable pull between the two, as if the universe had woven their fates together, only for one to be ripped away too soon. It’s a thread stretched too thin, threatened by the magnitude of loss.

Katsuki closes his eyes for just a moment, letting Izuku's touch wash over all the doubts in his mind. His pulse steadies, his breath no longer shaky. His demeanour eases, as if something inside him is finally, slowly, beginning to break free. Yet, even in this fleeting moment of relief, he knows—Izuku couldn’t stay. He never had been able to.

Katsuki allows himself to bask in the other's consoling touches, confessions and apologies spilling from his lips without thought. He doesn't know how long he's  standing here, being comforted by the boy he was missing mourning. The steady patter of rain gives way to silence, and as the last drop falls, the stillness between them feels like a new beginning—a pause in the storm that has raged inside Katsuki since he lost him. As the sky clears, and the days pass, he finds himself looking for Izuku's shadow wherever he goes, longing for his solace whenever it pours.

Izuku’s ghost hasn’t been around for days now, and a nagging thought lingers at the back of his mind. He swallows hard, trying to push it down, but it won’t go away.

Has he forgotten something?

It’s a thought he can’t shake, and his gaze darts around, as if half-expecting Izuku to be standing just behind him, waiting for him to admit it out loud. He grits his teeth, biting back the urge to call out, to hope for a hint of the familiar warmth that used to be there. He won’t give in to this. But his eyes linger on the space in front of him, almost begging Izuku to confirm that he’s not truly gone. The hesitation is brief, but it cuts through him like a blade—just a flicker of weakness that he immediately tries to ignore. Moving forward feels like betrayal, like leaving Izuku behind for good, but is it really betrayal if it’s all he can do?

Fuck. His throat tightened. He clenches his fists, furious with himself for even thinking it. For needing confirmation.

But there’s no answer, no ghost to speak back to him. Just the rain. Just the silence.

As much as he wanted to hold on, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that Izuku's ghost was fading away. With every otherworldly meeting between the two, the details he had once held so dearly—Izuku’s laugh, the way his hair felt under his fingertips, the warmth of his touch—were slipping from his grasp. He could no longer count the freckles on the boy's face—a number he once knew by heart. The rain was washing it all away.

Katsuki had tried to trace the scars on Izuku’s arms, but his ghostly figure had started to dissolve as the seasons passed. The lines he had once followed like a map blurred into obscurity. The once-vivid greens of his eyes, bright and unyielding, were now dim smudges in Katsuki’s mind. Each encounter left him with less, and each time, Izuku seemed more like an echo than the boy he had fought alongside—the boy he had loved. Katsuki fought to keep every memory intact, clutching at fragments with the desperation of a drowning man. But grief was a relentless tide, pulling pieces of Izuku further into its depths. He feared the day when he would wake up and find nothing left to remember.

Katsuki stares out into the downpour, expecting the familiar flicker of green eyes to appear, but all he sees is the blur of the storm. He frowns, his heart stuttering for a moment before it settles into something else—something quieter.

The space beside him remains empty, and for the first time in so long, it doesn’t feel like a void. The ache is still there, but it’s different. It’s less like a wound and more like a scar that’s begun to heal, its edges softened by time. He realises, slightly unsure, that he hasn’t seen Izuku’s ghost in weeks, maybe longer. And it’s okay. The thought doesn’t fill him with guilt; it doesn’t feel like betrayal. It’s just... the way things are now. He’s allowed to move forward, even if the past will always linger in the background.

Grief wasn’t something to be defeated; it was a river, something that would ebb and flow, forever changing, but never truly halt. He stopped searching the storm for a figure that would never return, realising that the sun would rise again, even if it took time to burn through the clouds. In the space between the rain, he found a new kind of peace—one that was less about forgetting, and more about learning how to stand in the quiet aftermath.

The rain had stopped, and with it went the faint illusion that Izuku was still near.

Here is my life is strange fic:

I really enjoyed writing this, and updated it soon.

Remember this is a Warren centered fic.

He also goes through it😳!!

j.t. | all i wanted

pairing: jason todd x unrequited!reader & platonic!dick grayson x platonic!reader

a/n: dear fucking god- this hurt to write- and this is an au where all the robins are living at the manor. reader is close friends with the batboys. also “she” is the new batgirl- also, there isn’t a specific iteration of the characters that is mentioned, i left that up to your imagination. :) and i didn’t know how tf to begin this-

request: yes by @artistichoodiegirl : “i wrote a poem that reminds me of jason. can you write an angst fic based off of it?”

warnings: ANGST OMFG THE ANGST- also, i don’t know if i like the way this came out, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. :)

you wanted to deny your feelings for him, but being as that felt physically impossible, you felt like a lost cause. crying your eyes out almost every night all because of a stupid guy. your brain tells you that you’re an adult, that you shouldn’t be so messed up over a guy, that you’re pathetic for feeling this way.

this night wasn’t any different, laying on your bed, wallowing in your own self pity.

dick walked down the hallway to your bedroom to tell you that dinner was ready, but when he heard your sniffling through the door before he was about to knock, he became concerned for his best friend. dick knocked, not giving you a chance to respond before turning the handle and opening your door to find you and your room a mess.

tissues everywhere, empty water-bottles, and and dishes on your bed-side table. he sighed before asking the same question he had been asking you for days, “are you okay?”

you turned to him, and what he saw shocked him. your hair messy and all over the place, eyes and nose red, it didn’t look like you were just sad, you looked ill.

“yeah, i’m just peachy.” you replied sarcastically, trying to deter him from being serious with you. “y/n i’m being serious. you’ve been cooped up in here for what seems like days, the boys are worried about you.” you chuckled, still trying to make it seem like you were okay.

dick walked a little bit further into your room before closing the door, knowing you didn’t like your door open. he moves to your bed, sitting across from you, “is he worried?” you asked, already thinking that this certain “he” couldn’t give less of shit about you.

“yes, jason is. he’s been wondering if you’re okay, why you’ve been avoiding him, and why you won’t even so much as look at him anymore.” you keep your eyes looking away from dick, knowing looking at him would make you sob again. “you know i can’t tell him why.”

“why not? you aren’t going to ruin his happiness with her by just talking to him about how you feel. i bet you’d even find at least some closure by talking to him!” you know he’s right, he usually is about these things. you, again, didn’t respond. opting to keep your eyes away from dicks gaze.

“if you’re not going to talk to him, fine. but at least come out and get dinner, talk to the rest of the family for a little bit, please?”

“i don’t know dick-“ “please, for me?” you shouldn’t have looked at him, his gorgeous blue eyes are impossible to say no to. “…fine. but let me get ready, i look like absolute shit right now.”

“yeah, you do.” that earned him a pillow to the face.

you closed your bedroom door before heading down the hall and to the kitchen. were you nervous, yeah. did you really want to speak to jason, no. but, you were doing this for your best friend and no one else.

and of course, the sight that you didn’t want to see the most was right in front of you, jason sitting on the couch with her in his lap, almost on top of him.

“hey, look who finally came out of hiding.” you mentally cursed tim for making it obvious. heads turned, but jason’s and hers stayed where they were, as though the couldn’t care less. you looked away from them and moved over to where damian, tim, and dick had been sitting after already getting some food.

you were 90% sure that tim knew about your feelings for jason, you didn’t know if damian knew or cared, and of course, dick being the emotional support friend, of course he knew.

you four sat in comfortable silence, occasionally hearing jason and her giggle, making you want to shiver from how uncomfortable it was. tim seemed to notice this and gave you a look of sympathy, damian lyes back on the couch and muttered to himself, “idiot…” looking at jason.

you chuckled softly, you didn’t know what it was, but damian had a way of making you feel better, even if it was unintentional. of course he knew, your moping had been kind of obvious.

making comfortable small talk with the other boys while eating, jason occasionally looked at you. ‘i should talk to her.’ he thought, before being distracted by the woman in front of him.

laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling trying not be/ feel pathetic for being upset that he didn’t even speak to you during dinner. you grabbed the pillow on the other side of your bed and pushed it over your face, and screamed.

even though jason has never slept in your bed with you, it felt…cold and lonely. he was something you craved, but knew you could never have, like god just wanted to continue to fuck you over.

there’s a knock on the door and you’re sitting up very quickly, “hey, can we talk?” it was jason.

hoping you looked okay, you gave a little huff and said to yourself, “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…”

“come in!” jason heard through the door, turning the handle and making his way into your room. your eyes widened and tried to act normal, like his presence didn’t make your stomach do flips. he closes the door behind you and sits next to you on the bed, you of course still not looking at him.

“why have you been avoiding me? you haven’t talked to me in days, and you can barely look at me. what’s going on?”

you wanted to tell him, you really did. but you couldn’t ruin what they had, knowing it’d be awkward for you, jason, her, and the rest of the boys.

“nothing is the matter jason, i just…haven’t been in the best state of mind recently, that’s all.” you mustered enough courage to turn and look at him, automatically regretting it to find him already looking at you. his eyes full of concern, but void of love. sure, maybe an almost sibling love, but not romantic. before all of this you had tried to make it painfully obvious of how you thought of him. but after she showed up, there was nothing really you could do.

“y/n, i’m going to take your word for it, and not pry. but i still want to talk to you.” “about?”

he looked at you once again, “does it matter?”

no, it didn’t, all that mattered was that he was talking you, something you had tried to avoid but internally yearned for.

asking the most painful question, just to make it seem like you really were okay, “how’re things going between you two?” he laughed, his beautiful smile never failing to mesmerize you.

“they’re going pretty good actually, i think i want to marry her.”

why were you surprised? they had been going for awhile now and of course he’d want to marry her. she could give him everything he wanted.

you tried not to whip your head around at him, you also tried not to burst out in sobs upon hearing those words. he wanted to marry her? “oh wow, that’s…a big commitment.” you laughed, trying to seem normal.

he in turn laughed a little too, “yeah, i know, but she just makes me so happy. i finally have the chance to have the family i’ve always wanted,”

“have two kids, preferably daughters. i am definitely going to name one amber.” of course he would, he’d always loved that name.

the pain in your chest is indescribable, you had hoped that he’d be having that family with you. but , it seems as though you may have waited too long. “that sounds amazing…i’m so happy for you.”

the words sounded disingenuous, but at this point you didn’t care. it hurt too much to see the person you love the absolute most, talk about starting a family with someone other than you.

faking a yawn you stood up, “i’m pretty tired, so i’m gonna have to kick you out now.” jason gazed up at you, faking being offended. “wow, we just started talking again and you’re kicking me out? rude.”

you laughed as he stood up and walked to your door, you following not far behind. when he stood just outside your door and in the hallway, there was an awkward silence. “goodnight, jason-“

“before i leave, can i get a hug? i’ve missed you y’know.” jason held his hand between the door and the doorway.

you hated how much you loved those words, he said he missed you. “yeah, you can have a hug.”

jason pushes the door open and quickly wraps his arms around your waist, and you wrap your arms around his neck. “please never avoid me like that again.”

he muttered in your ear, sounding genuinely hurt by what you had done. “i won’t.”

it felt like minutes before he pulled away, looking down at you and smiling. “you should get some sleep, i can see your eye bags underneath your concealer.”

“shut up, asshole.” you laughed, knowing he was just teasing you. jason stepped out of your room and into the hallway, “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, jason.” you both smiled at one another before he walked down the hall to his bedroom. you closed your door and suddenly everything hit you like a ton of bricks.

he was going to marry her, he wanted her children, and he’s going to name one amber.

he’s going to have the “big, happy family life”, something you knew you probably would be apart of. possibly babysitting his children.

you hated thinking about it, but, as long as he was happy. you’d do anything for him, even while suffering in silence.

now you were left to yourself, again, laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down the sides of your face and soaking your hair.

“fuck, i’m pathetic.”

you cried yourself to sleep, for the 7th time that week. wishing you would have been brave enough to just tell him how you feel, but instead you’re all alone.

and who else is there to blame, but yourself?

also, here’s the poem that the requester wrote! <3

I tried to win your love but

I can't compete

when she already won

god she's so much better

you should give her that diamond ring

I was begging for

I bet she's dying for you to get down on one knee

You probably already sing her to sleep

brush her hair

like you used to do for me

now i'm alone

got no one to hold

god my bed is so cold

But I still hope she's happy

make her smile when she's lonely

and give her a home

now that I'm alone..

imagine all of the little babies

you'll have driving her crazy

You'll probably have 2 daughters

I bet you'll name one Amber

you always really liked that name

you'll be such a wonderful father

I know you had those doubts

but I know she'll even them out,

And even though we aren't together

you always have my shoulder

for when your doubts

start to make the world dark

I just hope I'll still be around

to meet all of your little ones

but for now

I'll sit here and watch you…

be happy

I bet she's feels lucky

I'm glad you have one another

to hold each other

and keep the bed warm...

I hope you're happy

and never ever feel lonely

I'm glad you found a home

now that I'm alone...