#THOSE PHOTOS HAVE LEFT ME DEVASTATED

[elysiarte]

finally finished this after like 2 months

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie and Steve and their three daughters are sitting around the kitchen table one evening when four-year-old Hazel asks –

“Now that I’m here, are you gonna get married soon?

Steve blinks.

The question isn’t entirely out of left field – not for Hazel, anyway, whose preschool teacher got married a few weeks ago and came back with all kinds of pictures and stories. Apparently, Hazel’s been eating it all up, and she’s their most romantical kid, so to speak, so that’s not really a shock.

Thing is, Eddie and Steve are already married – have been for six years this past May, so…

“Uh, we are married, Hazy-Jay,” Eddie answers before Steve has a chance to say anything.

Hazel’s face falls, her mouth parting.

“Huh?”

Steve inwardly cringes.

“You got married before?” Hazel asks, her chin quivering like she’s only a few moments away from tears (and she’s their most emotional kid too, so she probably is).

“People get married before they have kids, Hazel,” seven-year-old Robbie points out all matter-of-fact.

“Well,” Steve pauses, because, yeah, Robbie is mostly not wrong, but those pesky gay marriage laws had kept him and Eddie from getting married until Massachusetts finally legalized it in ‘04 (when Moe was three and Robbie six-ish months old and Hazel still two years away). He’s pretty sure that level of nuance might be lost on their four-year-old though.

“Not Dad and Papa,” Moe cuts in, “Me and you were there, Robbie.”

“Moe,” Eddie mutters, “Not helping.”

“What?” Moe shrugs, “It’s true!”

Hazel looks positively devastated by this information.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Well, hon, we didn’t know you were coming,” Steve tries, “We didn’t know any of you were coming!”

“That’s not true,” Moe points out, “You knew about Robbie.”

“Moe,” Eddie hisses.

Steve reaches behind him to snag a framed photo of him and Eddie and Steve and Moe and Robbie all smiling at the camera on the steps of Boston City Hall off the shelf it perches on.

“You know this picture?” he asks as Hazel climbs into his lap. She nods, “This is from the day Dad and I got married.”

“It doesn’t look like a wedding,” Hazel says skeptically, her nose all scrunched up. 

“‘Cause it wasn’t really a wedding,” Steve tells her, “We got married at a courthouse in Boston – same courthouse where we adopted you and where we adopted Moe and where we adopted Robbie.”

“Why did you adopted us?”

“Well, you know how sometimes we take emergency foster placements every once in a while and we’ll have a new friend for a few days?”

Hazel nods.

“Dad and I used to do that all the time,” he continues, “and that’s how we met Moe, and so for two years it was just me and Daddy and Moe, and then we found out that you guy’s mom was gonna have another baby, and then we met Robbie.”

“And then me?”

“And then you,” Steve nods, “It was me and Dad and Moe and Robbie for three years, and then one day we found out that your mom had another baby, and that was you.”

Hazel wordlessly mulls this over for a bit, and then she lets out a pensive little sigh.

“If you would’a known about me before, would you wait?”

“To get married? Of course we would’ve waited.”

“And then maybe you would’a had a real wedding?”

“Maybe,” Steve affirms, even though…probably not, because that shit is expensive and, seriously, nothing out there could have prepared Steve for the reality of their college savings goal doubling overnight.

“Where is our mom now?” Hazel then asks.

Moe, helpful as always, cuts in with, “She’s dead now.”

“Moe,” Eddie exclaims for the third time, “Jee-eez, read the room please!”

[strwberrykisses]

it is so absolutely, irrevocably heartbreaking to me that john and paul no longer exist together, and that there is a chance, depending on your belief, that they never ever will again.

whether you believe they were platonic or romantic or whatever else, there is no denying they were two souls so made for eachother, so perfectly intertwined and matching like two pieces of a puzzle, more so than almost any other duo in our history. and because of the selfish decisions of another person, an outsider with delusions and a deranged nature, those two souls have been split up and taken from eachother and it just absolutely makes me so devastated to think about.

It’s very difficult to look at john in all the beatles interviews, especially early ones, and all those clips from the 70s and all those songs with his voice, and recognize that he is gone.

He exists in memory and in spirit and in the stories and songs of Paul, the books and the art of Cynthia, the faint memories of Sean and what it was like to have his father in those early early years. Even in some of the photos Linda left behind. But in the end, that is a person who no longer exists in physical terms. That no longer breathes or has a thought or feels a certain way when they wake up in the morning. That lives a life. It was all taken. And because of that, such a perfect pair will possibly never, ever get to exist together again. Paul is stuck here with all of us, missing someone with no physical connection anymore. Dreaming about him, painting him, being forced to speak about him in almost every interview even though it’s got to hurt.

I just don’t understand how you can see a pair of soulmates, of best friends, of two people that entranced with eachother, that beautifully connected, all of it from some kind of divine intervention, some kind of special moment in our stars that caused them to be put in the same place in the same era at the perfect moment as the other, and want to rip them away from eachother so cruelly.

all I can wish is that when the time eventually comes and paul passes, that they end up back together, somewhere peaceful like Paris with Elvis records and banana milkshakes and their Mary Julia star and endless fields of strawberries.

[disneyprincemuke]

oscar's logan's girl * ls2 op81

oscar truly never thought he would ever see the girl that was the cause of his first ever heartbreak

pairings: logan sargeant oscar piastri x fem!reader

notes: first of all, i want to thank everyone for liking the first part to this huhuhu i PERSONALLY think this is one of the fics i've written for an individual driver that has gotten this much feedback and responses... i never thought, in the 6 hours it took me to write that, that people would even like it so much... thank you for the kind words u guys <;/3

and now i would like to apologise if this did NOT go the way you thought it would... i couldn't bear hurting either logan or oscar, and holding grudges seemed like such an unlikely thing for a man of oscar's caliber... sorry if it doesn't go the way you thought <;/3

word count: 2.3k

(oscar's girl) // (f1 masterlist)

you let out the heaviest sigh, clutching onto the almost empty mercedes cup in your hand. you look over your shoulder, watching lily and carmen walk away without you in the direction of where the boys would be.

you stare at the unfamiliar, yet somehow most familiar, pair of brown eyes boring into your own. in the back of your mind, you remember the hushed giggles and how his hand used to feel in yours while you were in the streets of melbourne. you can almost remember what he sounded like when you were just kids, and the man that stands in front of you barely looks like what you remember of him.

you were devastated when you lost oscar's phone number. when you moved away to inevitably stay in the united states, you had every single intention of keeping the friendship with oscar. you just needed a week of settling in. you barely made any other meaningful friendships worth keeping in melbourne; all except the one that you had developed with oscar.

arguably, you could have done more to find him again. you could have gone on instagram, or any other social media site to try and keep the friendship alive. but you thought, after all those tears you shed before your departure, it would be better to stay away.

you only ever thought of oscar once in the past couple of years. the night before your first date with logan: you couldn't fall asleep from the nerves and anxiety. you had gotten along well over the phone, the williams driver playing his cards right every single time he would send you a text message and had your cheeks hurting from smiling too much and kicking your feet in the air.

you came across pictures of you and the young boy in melbourne, tucked away in a dusty photo album that you kept stored under your bed. you don't reminisce much: the memories you had up until you were 16 are a blur in your head. too much had happened, and the only memory that you keep with you is the fact that you moved around more than the average person.

"it's been a while," you finally speak, readjusting your shirt. the wet patch on your shirt, now slightly cold from the weather, your jacket doesn't really do much now to keep you warm. "how have you been?"

you can physically see the gears in oscar's head turn. his eyes bore into yours as he contemplates what he will say to you. if this had happened sooner after you had stopped talking to him, he would know what to say to you. because he spent his nights, and logan's mornings, talking about what he would say to you.

oscar presses his lips into a thin line. he has two choices now: unload the frustration he's forgotten about as he grew into an adult, or just be civil with the girl he could have sworn was the love of his life at 14. you never left his mind, even after all of these years, up until the moment that he met his now girlfriend, lily. he's a firm believer that you would have lasted forever if you had just stayed.

"i've been good. i'm a race car driver now," he smiles, gesturing to the paddocks around him. he's just going to try and ignore the fact that you're dating his literal best friend. "i told you."

you throw your head back with a laugh, making oscar drop his smile in the slightest of ways. he feels his chest close in on itself at the sound you're making. sometimes he fears that he'd never truly gotten over you, but that seems more like an overreaction in normal circumstances.

oscar wasn't aware of the fact that it could very well be the truth right now.

"you always did tell me you're going to be a racer," you agree with a smile. you remember going along with him to an obscure go-kart establishment once when you were growing up. it simply wasn't your thing, but you supported him through and through even as a young 14-year-old. "small world, huh?"

oscar nods with a small smile. "so, um. what happened?"

you tilt your head. "what do you mean?"

"you stopped answering my text messages out of the blue one day after you moved," oscar laughs softly, shrugging. "did i do something wrong? what happened?"

you sigh, closing your eyes as it hits you. there is something about the way his eyes are turned down slightly, and it doesn't take a genius to tell that he's trying to smile through whatever emotion he is feeling.

and you understand it if you were to put yourself in his shoes. it's genuinely all on you: you had promised that you wouldn't drift away from him before you left. you promised him, back then, that there would come a time that would bring you back together to give your relationship a fighting chance.

keeping in contact was very essential to that promise.

you don't think of oscar. but now that you do, you can see the scene of when you were about to leave playing vividly in your head. he had asked you for one simple thing: not to drift away so that someday, you can meet again and give yourselves a real fighting chance.

because realistically, at 14, there was not much to fight for but the overwhelming surge of emotions you have for something that is often categorised as puppy love.

but oscar knew even then that there was definitely something more.

"i dropped my phone in the lake. i got a new phone and a new number," you whisper dejectedly, trying to avoid the intensity of his stare. and you're prepared to receive the brunt of his anger, understandably so after you had unintentionally ghosted him. "i'm sorry. in hindsight, i should have done more to reconnect with you - social media is powerful, after all."

oscar nods, his lips pressed into a polite smile. though you can notice him clenching his jaw as he tries to force himself not to cause a scene in such a public setting.

a setting where your boyfriend, his best friend, would be involved. and his girlfriend who doesn't deserve this type of scandal tied to her name.

"we were just kids," oscar shrugs. but there's a bitterness in his mouth that he cannot ignore for too long. there is a bubbling urge from the deepest part of his gut to scream at you for all those days he swore he was going to go crazy from the pain of suddenly losing you. "i was bummed, though, when i lost you."

bummed is an understatement. the degree to which he grieved is unspoken between him and logan.

he doesn't blame logan for being overprotective of him when lily started to come into the picture. he was sat down by the american, by the sidewalks during their morning run, asking him to think long and hard about this.

it's the only time they had spoken of the instance that oscar almost lost himself. oscar waved off his concerns and said he was sure of what he has with lily, and that's a decision that he is still very proud of.

"i was devastated. but i was also scared," you whisper with a smile. "we were 14, but what i felt for you at the time... it was bigger than us, oscar. we had no fight against something like that."

oscar smiles. "logan is good to you, i hope?"

"we only just got together a couple months ago," you nod, "but he is amazing."

oscar nudges his head towards the direction that lily and carmen had walked towards earlier. you hop off your spot to catch up as he starts to walk by his side. "i've got a girlfriend of my own now. her name's lily too."

"doesn't that get confusing when you're all together? with alex's girlfriend and yours?"

"sometimes. but we don't hang out with the older drivers often," oscar admits with a scrunch of his nose. you have to bite back a laugh at his habit, seeing that it's something that has never left him. "it's a bit awkward. logan and i are typically together more often than not."

"how come?"

"we've only got each other," oscar shrugs. " we met at a karting race when we were really young. we kept in contact when we were apart. i think i may have told you about him a couple of times - my best friend living in florida."

you purse your lips, trying to rake at your brain for a time that oscar said that to you. unfortunately, your memory doesn't go that far back into the details of what you had. "wow. there's a lot i must have forgotten. i didn't know you went way back."

oscar smiles. with the little bit of resentment he has towards you, he completely understands (at his big age) why you don't seem to remember it as well as he did.

which is why he hated that he fell in love with you. he had made you his world and the meaning of his life, causing him to fall apart and crack at your goodbye.

you were an integral part of his life, but he was just a sliver of a memory in one of the places you had stayed in for a year or two. it had taken a while to start seeing it the way he does now. he hated you for what you did for years until everything started to fall into place for him in his head.

suddenly he understood why you were hesitant to befriend him in the first place. it must not have been easy to keep leaving friends behind.

"nah, it's alright. if i had such unstable environments like you did growing up, i'd have turned out much worse than you," oscar laughs. "did you move again after you moved to washington?"

you nod again. "one more time. we moved to la after three years - you know my dad. but it wasn't as severe as moving end to end of the world from australia to the united states, i guess."

"ba- oh." you calmly turn to the side, beaming when logan approaches you with confusion on his face. "i was looking for you all over the place. lily and carmen told me you ran into an old friend?"

logan had noticed oscar before you, the bright papaya orange that oscar sports all year around is not easy to miss. "i see you met oscar! what a coincidence."

"yeah, we," you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully as you meet him halfway, "funny enough, babe. we used to go to school together. in melbourne when my dad had business there when i was younger."

oscar presses his lips together, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet. he knows it won't take long for logan to complete the puzzle.

"oh?" logan furrows his eyebrows at you, one hand on your back protectively. "small world. oscar's actually my best friend - he's on the family fridge back in florida."

"yeah, he mentioned!" you beam, wrapping your arms around his. "who would have thought that the oscar you keep talking about is the same one i know?"

logan smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "right! so this is my guest for the weekend, man. my girlfriend - we met over the winter break. i can't believe you guys go way back! this makes it so much easier, doesn't it?"

oscar wants to run away. doesn't matter where, or how he will get there, because all he can focus on is the way you're leaning into logan's touch and the way logan's smile is so bright that it could be seen by the stars.

you clearly just had that effect on people. he's just another one of those people who fell for the welcoming aura you emit.

"did you guys know each other well?" logan asks.

oscar shares a glance with you. but he knows logan, more than you, perhaps. if logan finds out the history that you share, he will not be able to live with himself. he would leave you, leaving all three of you devastated.

so as you open your mouth to respond excitedly, oscar speaks over your mutter. "not really, just had a couple of classes together," oscar lies with a smile. he reluctantly settles for logan's excitement instead of your confusion. "we bumped into one another, i thought she looked familiar."

"oh, yeah! have you got an extra shirt i could borrow? i spilled coffee all over my top," you laugh, pulling down the zip of your jacket slightly to show him the patch.

"mate, i need to go and find lily," oscar says, reaching out to pat his friend on the shoulder. "i'll see you tonight. dinner afterwards, right?"

truthfully, he wants to ditch it. but you were both 14. it's not fair to keep holding it against you when all the odds were stacked against you both.

"absolutely. i'll see you tonight, man," logan smiles, waving at him as he walks away.

he can briefly hear your conversation as he fought all urges to turn around and glance at you.

"are you sure you want to borrow my shirt? i've only got my williams team shirts in my driver's room. i can ask someone to go out and find you one, if you'd like."

"no, of course not! i want everyone to know i'm with the williams driver, you know? announce it to the world."

logan sounds so into you, and he can't fault him for that. you've got a way with people that just reel them in. he should know - he was one of those people that were wrapped around your finger.

oscar's girl, as logan would tease during karting when he was resigned to a corner to text you after the race.

but in his head, you will always be his girl, because that's what he used to call you. that's the memory of you that will live in his head forever.

@myxticmoon @fangirl-dot-com @f1enthusiastsstuff @barnestatic @ladywhistledownx @holy-macncheese-balls @lightdragonrayne @almostjollypizza @sleepybrokenmelle @flyclaren @sagestack @de1u1ugyal @starssfall @cherry-piee @cstads-blog @renarots @strrgirlxqs @uuoozzii @bringbacktim @esposamultifandom @ssprayberrythings

[sgiandubh]

PSA: An Appalachian cry for help

Rather unusually, I have received this poignant message yesterday, in the middle of the European night, and I am now honoring it, with @novel-dreams' permission to share part of our DM convo:

@novel-dreams also provided this dramatic on-the-spot feedback:

[Click here for a more complete reblog, photos included: https://www.tumblr.com/the-elder-polls/762929863960166400/to-those-of-you-reblogging-this-thank-you-i-have?source=share]

And S himself shared the American Red Cross' appeal on behalf of the victims of hurricane Helene in North Carolina and Tennessee:

So, if you want to help and I strongly suggest you do so, even symbolically, as even dimes can make a difference to those left with absolutely nothing, here are a couple of other links for vetted local NGOs:

Most of these, such as Operation Airdrop or Manna Food Bank, may not take overseas donations and this makes me feel somewhat helpless, but all I am asking you, really, is at least to help spread this message, if you are unable/unwilling to pitch in.

In the meanwhile, we are ploughing through our own dressings, Shipper Mom and I, because we also had devastating floods in my own country and there are thousands who lost absolutely everything.

Let this be a reminder climate change is no joke.

[Later edit]: @txgenelady added this extra resource:

And I am adding The American Red Cross' dedicated link: https://www.redcross.org/donate/dr/hurricane-helene.html/

This post will remain open and might be regularly updated if you have any other idea or resource.

[Later edit 2]: Adding in the link for the North Carolina Disaster Relief Fund (thank you, @poughkeepsielass!): https://pay.payitgov.com/ncdonations (I have donated a very small amount here, from the 💖, the RC won't take my money), along with World Central Kitchen (thank you, @sarcastic-poll!): https://donate.wck.org/give/622465/?_gl=1qcys45_gcl_auMTQzNDU4MTEwMi4xNzI3ODA1MTkz_gaMTEwMjkzMjY4Ni4xNzI3ODA1MTkz_ga_5WKVY8503C*MTcyNzgwNTE5My4xLjEuMTcyNzgwNTIxNy4zNi4wLjA.#!/donation/checkout

[Later edit 3]: added The Cajun Navy Relief (https://www.cajunnavyrelief.com/)

[amarantoestrella]

*+:｡.｡ VIDEO GAMES: HAYATO SUO x FEM READER｡.｡:+*

CWs and disclaimers: manipulation and power imbalance dynamics, inexperienced reader, alcohol mention, dubcon. Everyone mentioned is 18+. Minors do not interact.

Heaven is a place on Earth with you: The small clumsy flicks of your tongue against his bare skin sends devastating ripples of heat down Suo’s spine. That wasn’t supposed to be part of the game he’d made up, yet here you were ever so eager to add your own twist to his favorite passtime.

“Fuck, not like that.. ‘s too much. ‘Member we’re just playing until my sister gets back from the store because you said you were bored.”

Suo’s smile is aggravatingly diplomatic and completely mismatched to the rest of his disheveled demeanor as he fastens the buttons he’d taught you to undo with your tongue and teeth. His white shirt is littered with dampened patches, made dark from saliva where you’d taken too long to complete your objective. The antics he gets up to when his sister is out of sight get stranger and stranger, yet still you can’t decide whether you continue to play to appease your competitive spirit or because you like the fact that these secrets you share with your best friend’s older brother make you feel special.

“Why’d you stop me? I only had two left!”

You huff, more than a little indignant. The two buttons still safely tucked away in his trousers. Your brows furrow much to your own confusion because it’s not anger you feel— but something else much more desperate that you can’t quite place a finger on. It’s warm and a little dizzying, and though you usually don’t sweat much, your thighs seem to have found a new affinity for doing so, collecting a pool of sticky heat at your core.

“Did you want to win that bad?”

You did, and more importantly you’d hoped to see if Suo shared the same confusing feelings you had once you’d gotten him halfway undressed. Hana’s arrival puts those thoughts quickly to rest, if only for a while.

Hana’s room is a familiar comfort you’ve slept in countless times. You know the way she arranges her teddy bears and photo frames like the back of your hand, and yet tonight you can’t seem to let sleep take over. You venture out to the kitchen for an innocent glass of water, definitely not because you will pass Suo’s room on the way.

The door to his unlit room is wide open, almost as if he’s expecting you to pass by looking for him. The silly little thought is plucked right from your silly little head because of course he isn’t. Still, you linger in his doorway, listening to the rustling of sheets and heavy sighs that sound like anything but restful sleep.

The floorboards groan under your weight as you attempt to retreat and if Suo could be startled, you’d think the expression would be similar to the one he casts at you through his door frame. Fabric slides down his torso as he sits up in bed, his head cocking to one side.

“Can’t sleep?”

You mean to nod in agreement, instead your feet move further into the man’s room of their own volition. The predatory lilt to his voice is unmistakeable for as much as he attempts to honey it over as he pats the space in the bed next to him.

“I might have a game, a new one.”

—

The game he proposes is simple, much like the previous ones you’d played at together. They began in indirect kisses and stayed quite innocent until recent moths as you come to the realization that all of his games seemed to have been geared toward exploring one another’s bodies. Tonight feels as if he’s blurred all the lines and rules of his games to turn them into one big one, the undressing, kissing, touching.

Suo’s mouth is over your own swollen lips suckling up stray moans and sighs, his tongue wrestling yours down keeping you quieted enough as a second finger pumps into your all too inviting center. He tastes faintly of alcohol, but that’s not the only reason your head is spinning. Heavens, you’ve only managed two of the agreed upon five fingers and the stretch is already unbearable. That heat and wetness between your thighs increases in tenfolds, maybe even more as the man mutters praises and obscenities at the invitation your body extends to him. So soft and pliant, warm and ready, all for him and yet only his fingers have the pleasure of knowing the confines of your walls. He shudders at the thought of forgoing the foolish guise of entertainment he’d proposed, pinning your thighs down with his own and taking you the way he so fervently wants.

“Another?”

Your voice is need as his is sand and he complies.

“Another.”

Your breath catches like fire in your throat when another long digit pushes to the knuckle inside of you with an embarrassingly soundable squelch. His fingers curl, hitting a spot you hadn’t known existed and never would have if not for the blinding white pleasure it elicits, sending waves of tension that are quickly tamed into relaxation down your limbs. A miserable excuse for speech falls from your mouth in a whine that you don’t even recognize as your own.

“Suo, please.”

He’s never taken you for the greedy type, regardless he surely is and rewards you with double your request. The pad of his thumb is rough, slow circles winding your nerves like a wrist watch, enough to distract you from the new fullness pumping into your sopping cunt. Suo’s patience wanes with your sanity and the finger smoothes over your clit like a switch, faster with the aid of your slick. The friction sends you tumbling down, and you hold on for dear life, nails digging for purchase into the milky skin of his shoulders. If you’re spiraling then you’re bringing him down with you, and by the frenzied look he casts from beneath his heavily lashed eyelids, he’s already promised to follow after you.

The word “enough” holds no significance in this room. There is no sense of satiation when it comes to the way your bodies mold into one or the way your sweat and saliva mix with his into ambrosia. The head of his cock is heavy in your belly as his weight pushes you further into the comforter beneath you, your pussy clamping down on his every inch filling you more delectably than his fingers could ever hope to.

Suo takes you like a prisoner does his last meal, savoring every bite, holding out so that it never ends. His length drags and shoves at a pace meant to conquer and memorize. You hope that your body is as much of a solace as his is to you, that he feels the same numbing tingle of pleasure at the tips of each of his hairs as you do. It’s only when his hips stutter, quickening and crashing into your the rounds of your ass with several claps, his blunt head bullying your insides to claim the deepest parts of you like he’ll stop taking air into his lungs if he doesn’t, that you realize he does. The sheets are damp and soiled from where the fluid inside of your bodies had been too much to contain between you, still hot and trickling out of the mess of your womb, now Suo’s. The man that throws a protective arm over your chest is no longer your best friend’s older brother.

“Suo.”

His smile this time is uncharacteristically bashful. He’d never meant to lose the game he’d been playing against himself the moment his sister had brought you home.

“Chérie.”

[pianocat939]

Yandere Chrollo Hcs/Mini-Story

I couldn't conceal the thoughts anymore- they were eating me up so bad. I RAMBLED. LIke this feels more like an informative thing than an actual narrative style so I'm sorry lmao. It's so unorganized too.

(The entire story is based on the fic I'm working on, but with more detail on characteristics and what not.)

Tw: brief mentions of kidnapping, implied controlling behaviour, Chrollo's character is altered but is in correlation to the past I've thought of.

MC is from Meteor City, and was Chrollo's best friend. But- They end up being kidnapped, and having retreograde amnesia. (I'm not going to go into further detail just because I don't want to spoil to anyone who is currently reading my fic) Meanwhile, Chrollo is absolutely obsessed with MC. He trusted them more than anyone, and all of the sudden they disappeared.

Chrollo, who slowly grows cold-hearted without MC, starts to resent whatever happened to them. He's desperate to know what happened to them. As he first builds the troupe (As an actual gang of thieves), his personal mission is to find MC.

Some of the troupe members know this goal he has. Especially if they were friends with MC before they were kidnapped. So they try to help him in anyway possible.

A few years of searching, the troupe manages to locate MC. But when Chrollo goes to meet them, everything just falls apart. They don't remember him at all. To him, this is devastating since he had practically devoted over half of his life to them. He becomes more unstable with his internal conflicts.

Since there's no photos or records of their memories, Chrollo repeats his fondest moments with them. He is desperate to get them to remember their friendship.

The most prominent memory he will say is the time he found a near-brand new toy and gave it to them. To which MC was grateful of his search back then. This memory is also the start of his obsession (which explains why this event in particular is the most important).

Slowly, MC manages to remember their memories with him. It takes a while, honestly. Maybe a few months. But MC is incredibly happy to see him alive and well. Only for one thing to be a downfall...

MC doesn't view him romantically at all.

Well, since MC is just barely recovering their moments they really only focus on what happened. Since they were children at that point, MC holds nothing but platonic affection for him.

Chrollo, however, is down bad for MC. He would and honestly will devote himself to their life. He doesn't care for much in his life. But he does care for the one thing that made him feel any joy. Over the years they were apart, Chrollo develops an almost glorified view of MC. He thinks they can do no wrong, and anything against them is his enemy too.

Now, Chrollo will kidnap them. No questions. Of course MC is freaking out, but once they see more old friends they know they're screwed.

Moving on to more about what Chrollo will be like with MC during captivity:

In front of the troupe members, he acts very nonchalant. He won't do any more than keep their side pressed to his or have them sit on his lap.

Alone? He's fucking insane. He'll do a lot for MC. He'll do most requests for them in a way to prove his "worthiness" to stay by their side. He wants them to rely on him so he can keep them obedient to his affections. The reason I even mention this as a worshipping characteristic of him is because back when they were children, Chrollo had friends. MC, however, was like his true best friend. The one he could trust wholeheartedly no matter what. Which I think is still left behind in his mind.

Also, while he's alone: definitely more affectionate. He tends to give lots of pecks on their face or hold them close. In his most vulnerable moments, he likes to do a few nuzzles. It's like he reverts back to being the clingy friend he was all those years ago.

In a way he's possessive. My idea of him is weird. So one side, he wants to prove his worth to MC so they'll acknowledge him as they did before. But on the other side, he wants a feeling of superiority and reliability.

He talks about fate often, mostly about the connection between the two. He'll repeat at least multiple times a week that fate has led them together just as they were before. He also loves to mention that they're his and he's theirs.

...

(OK. I'm done. I rambled so much help- it's really unorganized. Nonetheless, this is the most I've written in one go in a while. So that was fun.)

(I know I altered his character quite a bit, but that's because I altered his past as well. So it kinda goes hand in hand.)

- Celina

[lihyot-am-chofshi-beartzeinu]

This was sent to my main but I didn't want this putrid shit on my aesthetic blog. @trudgemank99, I'm going to try to explain this as best I can without insulting you.

Zionism is not a fascist ideology, and it is not responsible for an "ongoing genocide".

You don't even know what Zionism is. Seriously, you and others like you straight up don't even know what it means. You don't know its history, you don't know its cultural and religious significance, you don't know its politics, you don't know how it has saved so many Jewish peoples' lives over the 20th century. How dare you apply your own made-up interpretation of it to give you an excuse to go around harassing Jewish people on the internet?

You know how I see you? I see you as a Nazi. Because you have replaced "Jew" with "Zionist" in your vocabulary, so that you can get away with the same hatred of Jews that has festered within society for thousands of years.

You claimed in that other thread that you cared about the Palestinians. But you don't, because instead of, oh, I don't know, donating to charities or uplifting Palestinian voices, or even supporting joint Israeli-Palestinian peace movements like Standing Together, Women Wage Peace and A Land For All, you chose to desecrate the images of dead and grieving Palestinians who are victims of the tragedy of the conflict to "prove" it was a genocide (it's not; the ICJ ruled that Israel must take steps to prevent actions that could be considered genocidal. War and civilian death is horrific enough on its own; you gain nothing by misrepresenting what it is.)

You couldn't even name a single person in those pictures when I pressed you. I don't even know if those photos were of the conflict, because you didn't link to any reputable sources or date the images or name the photographer. For all I know they could have been pictures of the devastating war in Syria, which have taken on a second life with people attributing them to Gaza. Either way: how dare you use the dead as props. They were real people with real families and friends left behind to suffer - they are not your "gotcha" gore card to play on the internet.

Despite all of that, I don't hate you. I don't hate anyone. I don't want anyone to die. I want the conflict to end but I am realistic about why it occurred and why there is no ceasefire yet (hint: it's because Hamas keeps refusing ceasefires, because they want to send as many Gazan civilians to their deaths as they can). There is nothing I can say or do on my blog that will work towards an end to the conflict, and nothing I can do or say in my real life that will end the conflict - because I don't have a direct line to Netanyahu's office, and calling my local politicians here in Australia will accomplish fuck all. Because Australia doesn't influence Israel, just as Israel doesn't influence Australia.

So how does ranting incoherently at Jewish people on Tumblr save Palestinians? Go on, answer how screaming at me demanding I call it a genocide helps anyone.

I'm not defending Israel. I don't need to. What I do talk about is fighting Antisemitism and anti-Zionism - because there is no difference between them anymore. You and people like you might keep using the word "anti-Zionist" (something that I consider to be grossly inappropriate and culturally appropriative, actually) but we all know that, deep down, you're just Jew-haters.

If you can't admit to yourself that you are operating on a basis of incoherent hatred for Zionists (aka Jewish people who believe in the existence of a Jewish homeland in our ancestral land of Judea; something, by the way, that is fully compatible with the existence of a Palestinian state) then I'll do it for you: you are a Jew-hater.

Oh, wait! You did admit it:

Thank you for this mask-off moment. Truly.

[sidthedollface2]

A Crown fit for a God

(Part 2)

(Part 1 here)

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader

Summary: An enemy threatens Velaris leaving Azriel to choose between his found family and a long lost friend. Can he juggle the two or will he fall for the enemy?

Ch Summary: After you threaten Velaris with war. Azriel is tasked to find you and bring you to the prison above the mountain. He shadows have other plans when they confront you.

word count: 2.6k

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, hurt/comfort,light smut, war, including injuries, fighting, sign language, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )

A/n: I hope this Ch sheds a little light as to what reader is and about her powers. I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol

In the beginning there was Khaos. The first God in existence to precede creation. Khaos filled the space between, invoking darkness and shadow. Unable to witness her work, her intense desire to see flickered before her. Discovering her own spark, she flew towards it, the force of her wings igniting, leaving a trail of stardust; giving birth to the vast universe. From her own will khaos had created the primordial deities that would reign over the elements of the universe. And thus terra, sky, darkness, light, night and day were created.  

 From the very desires of the first primordial gods, Demi Gods emerged, living among mortals and immortals. Soon enough these half gods no longer wanted the responsibility of mortals. Thanatos and his sisters, the Gods of Death grew tired of being witness to so much violence and bloodshed. Leaving their duties caused a riot. No other God would carry the burden of their responsibilities on top of their own. Those loyal to the Divine fought in the war of Gods, neither side backing down regardless of how much blood had been spilled. Khaos wept as she witnessed her slain children. Fighting against her kin, tears streamed down her face as she slaughtered her very own. Devastated, she fell to her knees in defeat, between her sobs she whispered in the ancient tongue, “I bind myself to the darkness of death, overpowering my light within so long as my spark prevails through the moonless journey.” All fighting ceased as every God witnessed khaos, bringer of life, descend to the lands in the form of a falling star. The fates of two entwined. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house of wind was anxious, each door closed with a slam, rattling the photos that hung along the walls. The foundation, made from the mountain rock, shook and with it pieces of rubble and dust would float to the floors. Often the roaring would come back, leaving its inhabitants wide eyed and on edge. 

every member of the inner circle sat in Rhys office. The air thick with tension as Azriel explained his actions, why he blocked Cassian from hurting you, why he needed to be the one to search for you. Many questions left unanswered. How did you find Velaris? And what kind of ancient magic would allow you to pass through his wards so easily?

“Rhys, I know her! We were childhood friends!” Azriel pleads, “let me find her.” 

Elain’s eyes darted to Azriel, questioning his reason for his blatant lies. She knew he saw you once and never again. Yet she remained silent, a question for another day. 

Rhys sighed, leaning back in his chair. All eyes were on him as he stared at the map of Prythian that lay across his desk. He took a sip of his whiskey, considering his next move. One by one he informed them of their duties, sending every member away as soon as they received their mission.

Cassian was sent to Windhaven to ready the warriors and ensure their weapons were up to par for battle. Amren and Nesta were to stay in Velaris to survey and defend the city in case you returned. Mor was to revisit the courts that had scorched farmlands and buildings, to see if there were any more details that they overlooked. Elain wished to stay in Velaris and investigate the reason the house was slowly deteriorating. Rhys agreed. Finally he ordered Feyre to accompany Azriel in his search for you. 

Azriel ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, “No Rhys it has to be me alone. You can trust me.”

“After what I saw today, I’m not so sure where your mind is. I trust that you ‘ll do the right thing, but I don't agree with your current judgment so I’m sending Feyre with you.” 

Azriels shoulders slumped as he nodded in defeat. Feyre placed a gentle hand on his back, attempting to soothe his disappointment.

~~~~~~~~~~

Feyre walked Azriel back to his room but before he entered she grabbed his arm moving him to face her. “ I have a friend I need to visit and he doesn't like when others tag along,” she whispered, hoping no one else would hear her. Azriel narrowed his eyes. “ So I hope you understand that I won't be joining you on your mission,” she winked, releasing her hold on him. Azriel just smirked, mouthing her a ‘thank you.’

Back in his room, Azriel cleared his desk of all the healer books he had meticulously studied.  All these years he’d been searching for a healer when in fact you were a God, at least according to Amren. He spent hours searching Death Gods and tracing back their lineage and none had the powers you possessed, the power in which made him search for you. The power to heal. “You've been at it for hours, come to bed honey,” Elains sweet voice brought him out of his thoughts. “None of this makes sense,” he said mostly to himself as he shook his head, ignoring Elains request.

She stood behind him, gently kneading his tense shoulders with her slim fingers. His back tensed at her touch, purely focused on his work. Determined to get him to bed, Elain rested her chin on his shoulder, angling her head towards his ear as she whispered seductively her desires. His eyes fluttered closed in frustration, as she placed wet kisses to the curve of his neck, humming at the taste of him. “Not tonight.” Coldly he shrugged her off, hating the pain she held in her eyes. Without a word Elain stepped away, leaving Azriel to drown in his work, drown in his thoughts of you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And then I pushed through, you should have seen their faces,” you chuckled, recounting the events from Velaris to your dearest friend.  “No matter the job you always try to make it fun.” He replied, petting the hen that sat in his lap; a gift you had brought him for the delicious tea leaves he had acquired. 

You smile, enjoying his company that you often missed. Out of the corner of your eye, a wisp of shadow scurries into the darkness of the night, earning your full undivided attention. Nothing but silence is heard. “What was that?” you ask, turning back to the Suriel. “An invisible thread that weaves and winds, binding hearts two of a kind.” you gape at him, blinking your eyes rapidly, “I don't even want to know.” A chuckle rattles in his throat, “go before he finds you.” Without another word shimmer and darkness envelope you, winnowing you far from the Night Court.

Azriels shadows darted through the low grounds of the woods, swerving through a dense thicket of birch trees and rock formations, scouring each bush and body of water in search of you. Once they spotted you, they quickly returned to their master, curling around his ear ,whispering ‘Suriel.’  

Just as you winnowed away a blade launched itself toward the Suriel; flying through the air from a shroud of darkness, pinning his cloak to a tree. “Where is she?” he asks, tone impatient and demanding.

“Here, there, everywhere.”

Azriel pinches the space between his brows in annoyance. Shaking his head he asks another question, hoping for a straight answer.

“How do I find her?” 

“Evoke emotions without a single touch, no wings yet able to fly. To catch this God let her hear the cords of the night.” 

“I don’t…..these riddles. I don't understand.” Azriel paced in front of the Suriel, wracking his brain for any clues. 

“The touch of a memory will carry her to you.”

“Stop with the riddles!” Azriel fumed, teeth clenched tight as he stared the Suriel down. 

“Are you not a shadowsinger?” he replied, pulling out the blade that held his cloak to the tree. “I've answered your questions, whether you can decipher the meaning is no business of mine.” Finished with Azriels questioning, the Suriel made his way through the woods, hen in hand for a fresh slaughter. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had taken Azriel a few days to figure out the riddle. Repeating the words over and over, analyzing each term and its meaning. The line ‘hear the cords of the night’ was what led him to realize it was a song, but what song was what stumped him. He felt like a fool singing his favorite songs in the middle of the forest, belting it out with his whole chest.

He sang songs that made him teary eyed and even sang songs in the ancient tongue, but none of those had lured you to him. The Suriel mentioned ‘the touch of a memory,’  “oh Gods, I’m an idiot,” he said to himself. He only had one encounter with you, so it was easy to remember the events of that night, all these years he could never forget. He would never forget the song, the song he thinks is about you. His mother sang this song to him as a child and he wonders if she knew the dark power you possessed, was she singing to a God in hopes to answer her prayers, to lift her from the chains that held her down. 

The house of wind kindly provided warm tea and honey. It's eagerness to assist him piqued his curiosity. He would ask Elain about her findings another day. Soothing his vocal cords, a plan was formed to capture you and send you to the prison on top of the mountain.

You're the chaos of the night, 

A little girl lost in the woods

You're a folktale, the unexplainable

You're a bedtime story

The one that keeps the curtains closed

And I hope you're waiting for me

'Cause I can't make it on my own

I can't make it on my own. 

Azriel sang the words from his childhood, voice harmonious with a smooth baritone that held the memories from the past. He sang from the depths of his heart in hopes that the meaning behind his words would grace your ears and become a light in the dark. Guiding you towards his waiting arms.

Weathered leaves crunch under the weight of your relaxed body, grass floor cold and damp from the night. But the view of the stars in the Night Court were your favorite, they called to you as if saying 'stay.' Stars glitter like rare diamonds, and the crescent moon smiled brighter than the sun. The evening scent of mist and night felt familiar in the way that reminded you of home. It had been so long since you’ve been home, the thought of never returning grew closer and closer.

The midnight breeze caresses your skin, its gentle touch has your eyes closing, focusing on  the chirping of crickets and running water. A mellow voice sings the harmonious music of the night, its soft whisper tickles your ear like a past lover, luring you to follow the rich sound.

I hope you're waiting for me

Across your carpet of stars

You're the chaos of the night,

You're everything that we can't see

Chaos, you're the possibility.

Azriel ceases to sing once he spots you round a thick tree, his shadows excitedly rush towards you and Azriel curses under his breath at their eagerness. He observes as they affectionately coil around your neck, fluffing about in your hair before they trail down your arms. You giggle at their curiosity as they loop around your fingers, “you wanna play?” you ask, as you slowly move your fingers in awe at their closeness. They playfully bounce from one hand to the other, and you take that as a yes. Azriel is dumbfounded as he admires his shadows from afar. He has his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against a tree, his gaze slowly trails up the delicious curves of your body and he imagines what it would be like to lay with a God. He sees you smile and nod at whatever they’ve whispered in your ear and he fears you both are up to no good. As the shadows dance in a circle just a few feet in front of you, they rapidly circle around and around creating a whirlwind of darkness. Cautiously you near the edge of their tornado and zap one of the shadows, creating an orb of light within the vortex. You're mesmerized by the display in front of you. Your power bounces off the shadowed wisps like an elegant dance, the wisps gently stroke the flame of your power, careful to not get scorched.

With the blink of your eye the orb bursts, spraying the ground and trees with thousands of specs of glittering starlight. Azriel feels a jolt of electricity zip up his body, shaking him so hard he loses balance off the tree, quickly righting himself before you notice. His effort is too late, you've already spotted him.

“You're not a stalker are you?” you ask, voice playful and curious as you near him.

If you only knew, Azriel thinks with a smirk.

“No, but I can be. Nice party trick by the way.” Azriel pushes off the tree to meet you. The first thing you notice is his eyes, hazel and dreamy framed by long thick lashes. His nose is straight and a little too perfect for a warrior, you wonder if he’s ever been punched in the face before, or maybe he's just that good at fighting. His high cheekbones and strong jaw remind you of the many demi gods that have been sculpted throughout the years. You eye him up and down, taking in his stature and broad shoulders. He’s a little too handsome and in your experience these types of males are conceited snobs who only enjoy their own reflection and company. Meanwhile Azriel does the same, completely entranced by the sway of your hips and how your hair flows over the swell of your breasts. 

“They seemed friendly.” you respond, tipping your head to the shadows that have swirled around the both of you, appearing to close the distance between you.

Azriel shakes his head, “I meant in Velaris. You threaten my home, my friends and my High Lord and expect to get away with it? How did you get past the wards? And how did you find Velaris?” 

Before you could respond the ground shakes as a blast erupts creating a cloud of dust and forest debris. Instinctually Azriel pulls your body flush to his, shielding you from injury. Dark membranous wings curl around your body, cocooning you safely in his arms. Your hands find the planes of his toned chest as you peer up at him through your full lashes. You know what the blast was but the feeling of his body pressed against yours had your knees weak, and you couldn't break away. 

Azriels heart is ramming against his chest at the proximity, his gaze is locked on your brilliant eyes as he dares to cup the side of your cheek. Angling your face to meet his, your exposed collarbone catches his attention when a bargain tattoo vanishes before his eyes; breaking the trance you had him in.

“What did you bargain?” he urges, hands now tightly gripping your upper arms.

“Your worst nightmare.”

Azriel staggered back, paling in horror as he registered your words.

Only one creature carried that name.

Bryaxis.

Part 3

Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @going-through-shit

[rootedinrevisions]

Never Left Me: Part 4

SUMMARY: As Lauren and Madison help their dad clean out the old farmhouse, they unearth memories of their childhood, and long-buried feelings come to light. A conversation with Madison brings Lauren face-to-face with the past she thought she had moved on from, while an unexpected moment with Tyler in the attic forces her to confront the unresolved tension between them. As they sift through old keepsakes, Lauren begins to question the choices that led her away from home—and from Tyler.

OTHER PARTS: Prologue I Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The next day Lauren and Madison dive into the overwhelming task of cleaning. Dust dances in the beams of sunlight coming through the kitchen window, and the sisters work side by side, scrubbing countertops, rearranging furniture, and sweeping the corners of the living room that had gone neglected. Their dad had focused so much of his energy on caring for their mother in her final days that the house had slipped into a quiet disarray.

Outside, Tyler is working on an old tractor in the barn, the familiar sound of tools clinking against metal carrying through the air. Every now and then, Lauren catches a glimpse of him from the window, and she feels that familiar knot in her chest but shakes it off as they move to the attic.

The attic smelled of old wood and time, the air heavy with memories as Lauren and Madison worked through boxes that hadn’t been touched in years. Lauren wiped her hands on her jeans, brushing off dust from an old photo album when Madison suddenly called out.

“Hey, look at this,” Madison said, pulling a photograph from one of the boxes. She held it up, squinting at it through the soft light coming through the attic window. “Oh my God, I forgot about this!”

Lauren glanced up from where she was folding some linens. “What is it?”

Madison turned the photo around to show her. It was a snapshot of the three of them—Lauren, Madison, Tyler, and his sister Tess. All of them were standing in front of a barn, covered in dirt, grinning like they had no care in the world. Tyler had his arm slung around Lauren’s shoulders, and they were all laughing, the kind of laughter that only came from endless summers spent together.

“Remember this?” Madison asked, laughing softly. “We were so close with him back then.”

Lauren’s heart squeezed at the sight of the photo. She remembered that day vividly—how Tyler had helped them with some farm work, and how they’d ended up in a playful mud fight afterward. It had been one of those perfect days before everything changed. She forced a smile. “Yeah, I remember.”

Madison watched her closely, her amusement fading as she saw the look in Lauren’s eyes. “Okay, spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Don’t ‘spill what’ me.” Madison leaned against a stack of old boxes, crossing her arms. “You’ve avoided this place like the plague for eight year and you’ve been acting weird around Tyler since you got back. It’s like you’re avoiding him, or I don’t know… something’s off. What happened between you two?”

Lauren stiffened, her hands pausing over the stack of linens. “Nothing happened. We just...drifted apart. It’s been eight years, Maddie.”

Madison’s eyes narrowed. “I remember that night, Lauren. The night he brought you home late. You weren’t just upset, you were devastated. You can’t just brush this off as ‘nothing.’”

Lauren swallowed hard, the memories pressing in on her. “It’s ancient history. We were just kids.”

Madison wasn’t having it. “You didn’t cry like that over nothing. I heard you in your room that night. You were wrecked.”

Lauren’s walls were crumbling, but she wasn’t ready to let them fall completely. “It’s not important.”

Madison scoffed. “Lauren, come on. You’ve been acting like there’s a ghost following you around ever since we got back, and I’m betting it has a lot to do with that night. Just tell me what happened.”

Lauren hesitated, glancing down at her hands. Why was she doing this? Why was she still holding onto the pain after all this time? Maybe it was the attic, the way everything in this space reminded her of the past, of a time when things were simpler. Maybe it was the weight of losing their mom. Or maybe it was just that after all these years, she was tired of keeping it inside.

“Fine,” Lauren said softly, sitting down on an old trunk. “I’ll tell you what happened.”

Madison lowered herself to the floor across from Lauren, eyes wide with curiosity but softened by concern.

“It was the summer before I left for college,” Lauren began, her voice steady but quiet. “Tyler and I were hanging out more than usual. We spent almost every day together, and I thought… I thought something was happening between us. Something more than just being friends.”

Madison nodded, listening intently.

“One night, we were out by the lake. It was late, and we’d just finished talking about my plans for Chicago and everything that was coming up. I don’t even know how it happened, but I told him that I had feelings for him.” Lauren’s voice wavered slightly. “I told him I loved him.”

Madison’s eyebrows shot up. “You did?”

Lauren nodded, staring down at her hands. “Yeah. And I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t what I got.”

“What did he say?” Madison’s voice was gentle now, realizing the weight of what her sister was revealing.

“He didn’t say it back.” Lauren took a deep breath, remembering the sting of Tyler’s words that night. “He said that if I wasn’t going away to college, maybe things would’ve been different. That maybe he would’ve asked me out, taken me to rodeos with him, but… he never said he felt the same way.”

Madison frowned, her expression thoughtful. “So, he didn’t exactly reject you.”

Lauren shrugged, feeling the same old hurt bubbling up again. “He didn’t have to. He basically said it would never work. And I guess I just took that as him not feeling the same.”

Madison shook her head, a small laugh escaping her. “Lauren, that’s not what he said at all.”

Lauren blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Madison leaned forward, her expression serious but soft. “Think about it. He didn’t say he didn’t feel the same way. He just said that your plans were what was in the way. If you weren’t leaving, he would’ve asked you out. He would’ve brought you with him. That’s not nothing.”

Lauren frowned. “But he didn’t say he loved me.”

“Maybe not in those exact words,” Madison said, “but it sounds to me like he cared about you more than you realized. Maybe he was scared, or maybe he thought you deserved more than just a guy from who was riding bulls. But it doesn’t mean he didn’t feel something for you.”

Lauren’s mind was spinning. She’d spent years believing that Tyler hadn’t felt the same way, that her love had been one-sided. But now, hearing it from Madison’s perspective, she wasn’t so sure. Could Tyler have actually loved her back then? Had she misread everything?

“I don’t know,” Lauren said, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

Madison smiled softly, giving her a knowing look. “Maybe it matters more than you think.”

Lauren didn’t have a response to that. She sat in silence, the weight of her sister’s words settling over her like a heavy blanket. Had she really spent all these years believing something that wasn’t true? And if so, what did that mean for her now?

The attic was quiet, save for the sound of the wind rattling the window panes. The sisters sat among the relics of their past, surrounded by dusty boxes and old memories. But in the middle of it all, Lauren found herself questioning not just the past, but the present—and the feelings she’d been trying so hard to bury.

* * * *

The afternoon sun filtered through the small attic window, casting a soft glow over the dust particles dancing in the air. Lauren had been up here for a while now, sifting through boxes of memories, old photo albums, and knick-knacks her parents had saved over the years. She found herself lost in the past, wiping dust from her mom’s wedding veil and carefully placing it aside. The soft rustling of footsteps made her pause, but she didn’t think much of it. Maddie was working downstairs in the guest bedroom, and there was always noise around the house these days.

Then, the floorboards creaked louder, and she glanced up just as Tyler appeared at the top of the stairs, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Need any help?" he asked, his voice casual but with a hint of warmth that made her chest tighten slightly.

Lauren raised an eyebrow, trying to keep her tone light. "You’re supposed to be working on the tractor."

Tyler shrugged, walking over and sitting down next to her. "Took a break. Figured I’d see what you were getting into up here."

She smiled, gesturing to the boxes around them. “Just going through some of my parents’ old wedding stuff. A lot of this hasn’t been touched in years.”

He leaned over, picking up an old program from the wedding, his fingers tracing the faded lettering. “Man, this takes me back,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Your folks were a real example to everyone around here.”

Lauren nodded, a pang of emotion catching in her throat. “Yeah, they were.”

As they continued to sift through the memories, the two of them started laughing when they pulled out an old box tucked into the corner. It was filled with props and toys—bits and pieces from their childhood.

Tyler’s eyes lit up with recognition as he pulled out a plastic tiara and held it up, chuckling. “Oh man, I remember this. Maddie and Tess used to make us play wedding all the time.”

Lauren laughed, shaking her head. “I’d forgotten about that. They always made me be the bride, and you—”

“Had to be the groom,” Tyler finished with a grin. “Every single time.”

Lauren was about to reply when something caught her eye—a small stack of old polaroids at the bottom of the box. She reached for them, carefully flipping through the faded photos. And then she saw it—a snapshot of one of those pretend weddings. There she was, wearing a makeshift veil over her head, standing next to a young Tyler, both of them grinning awkwardly at the camera.

“Look at this,” she said, holding up the photo for Tyler to see.

He leaned in, squinting at the picture, before bursting into laughter. “Oh wow. That’s us.”

Lauren shook her head, unable to suppress her own laughter. “I can’t believe we went along with it.”

Tyler looked at the picture again, quieter now. “We were just kids. Didn’t even know what any of it meant.”

She glanced at him, and for a moment, the playful mood shifted. There was something heavier in the air, something unspoken hanging between them.

“Yeah,” Lauren murmured, more to herself than to him, “just kids.”

Tyler reached out, gently taking the polaroid from her hands, his fingers brushing hers. “Funny how things change, huh?”

Lauren’s chest tightened at the look in his eyes. For a second, it felt like the years between them melted away, and they were back to being those same kids, too young to understand the complicated things like love and life that lay ahead. She quickly looked down, breaking the moment before it could become something more.

“Yeah,” she said softly, her heart pounding a little faster than she’d like. “Funny.”

Tyler smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I guess some things never really change, though.”

Lauren picked up another small box, brushing off the dust as she opened it. Inside were old love letters her parents had written to each other during their courtship, and for a moment, she was lost in their romance. Tyler shifted beside her, his eyes distant, like he was somewhere else entirely.

“So,” he said, breaking the quiet, his tone casual but laced with something deeper, “how’s the actual wedding planning coming along?”

Lauren blinked, pulling herself back to the present. “Oh, uh, it’s going. We’re aiming for a fall wedding in Chicago, something small and intimate. Just close family and friends.” She fiddled with a loose thread on her sleeve. “Jonathan’s been pretty involved. You know, picking the venue, the flowers, all of that.”

As she talked, Tyler grew quieter, his gaze dropping to his hands. The change in his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed, and when she finished speaking, the silence stretched between them again.

She hesitated before finally asking, “Tyler? You got quiet…is everything okay?”

He glanced at her briefly and shrugged, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... you know, weddings and all.” His voice didn’t carry its usual warmth, and Lauren could tell something was bothering him.

For a moment, she thought about letting it slide, but Maddie’s words from earlier in the day echoed in her mind. She took a breath and decided to confront the lingering tension. “About last night...I left without giving you a chance to talk. And... I’m sorry for that.” She bit her lip before continuing. “Actually, I’m sorry for not letting you talk eight years ago, either.”

Tyler looked at her, his expression unreadable. He stayed silent, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn’t respond at all. But then she added, softly, “What would you have said that summer night... if I had given you the chance?”

He met her gaze, holding it for a long time, as if searching for the right words. Finally, he sighed, a sound filled with years of unspoken things. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “It was a long time ago.”

Lauren wanted to push, to ask more, but the weight of his words hung in the air between them. She remembered what Maddie had said earlier—that Tyler had mentioned wanting to take her on a date, to bring her on the road with him to rodeos.

Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Did you mean it? What you told me that night? That if I hadn’t gone off to college, you would’ve taken me out on a date... brought me with you?”

Tyler’s eyes softened for a moment, and he looked at her like he was seeing the girl from eight years ago.

“Yeah,” he said after a pause. “I meant it.”

The confession hung between them, and for a brief second, Lauren wasn’t sure what to do with it. She searched his face, looking for some hint of regret, but Tyler’s expression was calm, resigned almost.

He stood up, brushing off his jeans as if to shake the moment loose. “I should go see if your dad needs help with the tractor.”

Lauren nodded, watching him walk towards the stairs. But as he disappeared from sight, the question she’d been avoiding for eight years crept into her mind for the first time: had she made a mistake by leaving?

[seniasworld]

It's Been Three Weeks ...

(this post is simply to get my own thoughts and feelings regarding Liam Payne's death out. skip if ya don't care. <3)

It's been three weeks since Liam Payne has passed, and I am still having a hard time wrapping my brain around it. I am an old Directioner, as I discovered the boys and their music when I was about 14 or 15 and I adored them up until Zayn left the band. I remember being so shy about the fact that I, a teenage girl, was influenced to adore these 5 boys who were also teenagers at the time. Thankfully, I realized that it isn't a bad thing to find some sort of comfort in strangers, and no, I was not part of the group who failed to respect their privacy and boundaries as fellow human beans. I loved them dearly and unfortunately, cut that shit off once I had bigger life things to worry about.

About three months before the news of Liam's death, I had finally committed to deleting thousands ...thousands of memes and pictures that came with being a Directioner during their prime. I had so many photos that I hadn't even looked at in years taking up space in my drive and I had do either pay for more digital storage (lmfaooo yeah right) or delete things I didn't need anymore, so that's what I did. Oddly enough, it was kind of a relief to get rid of 99% of those images, as I really felt it was a nice way to reconnect with that part of my life without shame or guilt, but appreciation and love.

However, I received the news of his death from the only Directioner friend I stayed in touch with all these years. The same friend I stayed up all night with, talking about the boys, waiting for songs to release, crying on Skype together when the wind slightly shifted in our little world. The only friend who I committed to meeting in person multiple times throughout our lives. She sent me a news clip on TikTok and girl, when I tell you my hear sank ...shit was SUNK. I didn't want to believe it, so I didn't. I was in such a great state of denial and shock that I couldn't even find it in myself to have empathy. All I wanted to do was prove that it was some misinformation or some stupid prank. I guess that's one way to cope, right?

Anyway, the teenage girl in me was devastated. I instantly recalled certain posts that were made either on here or on Twitter back in the 1D days that talked so much about how we would miss these days and they would pass us by so quickly and before we knew it, we would be grieving the loss of one of our boys after going so long without being so obsessively invested in their lives. I couldn't believe that we were losing one of them so soon. I couldn't stand the fact that I felt guilty for not being more invested than I have been in each of their music careers, even though I shouldn't. Really, I was just surprised at the fact that an influential part of my childhood ...or rather, teenage years, was just gone and it took his passing for me to realize the impact they all had.

I considered myself a Harry girl, and iykyk, us girlies were in the trenches, but my point with this is that I still loved all the boys. I don't know if I can truly express it, but watching their interviews, performances, vlogs, interacting with them on Twitter even though I was lost in the sea of fans, even just listening to their voices in their music was comforting. I appreciated so much that these boys were told from the very beginning that they wouldn't be successful and then they just blew it out the water. I appreciated so much that even though they were put together as a last resort and even lost X-Factor, who they were as people was what caught our attention as fans. For me, they were a safe space. For a lot of us, they were physical evidence that creative, funny, and compassionate people exist and that they can be boys/men. For a lot of us, they were simply all we had to get through each day.

I'm not going to sit here and pretend that some of the news that surrounds Liam was always positive. In fact, I was kind of mad at him for my own reasons for a bit before he passed. But the fact is, his presence in the band was crucial and so heavily valued that you didn't even have to be a 1D fan for his death to impact you in some way. His voice was beautiful and the way he carried himself compared to the other boys, especially when they were younger, was unique and powerful. I am so sorry that this has happened to him and I am so hurt for those in his life who actually knew him and loved him personally. I wish it didn't take death for people to realize that compassion, patience, and accountability go so fucking far no matter who you are and what you do. I wish he was in a different situation that would have never allowed for him to go the way he did.

I want to remind you, if you are still reading this, to understand that mental health takes a huge toll and informs our thoughts and behavior. Addiction is indicative of one's inability to face themselves. And let me ask you: how many people do you think you are wiling to face when you struggle to face yourself?

We must be kind to others, but more importantly, we must be kind to ourselves. It's okay to make mistakes. Mistakes do not make you a bad person, and holding yourself and the ones you love accountable IS an act of love that will benefit the world around you.

I think this is all I have on the matter, for now. I am still quite sad, as I have experienced personal losses this year alone, so my heart goes out to those who have also been effected by Liam's unexpected passing.

If you ever want to chat or share any thoughts, follow and shoot me a message. I'll be around.

Goodnight. x

Yesenia

[cheynovak]

Texas sky – part 5 

Summary: Y/N, a former cast member of Supernatural, had left Texas for LA several years ago, citing career reasons but also escaping unresolved personal issues. During a reunion party in Austin, she reconnects with Jensen Ackles, who is still married to Danneel but also struggling with his own difficulties.  He confronts Y/N about her sudden departure and their past, hoping things might turn out differently this time.  

Warnings: Friend to lovers, old love rediscovering, marriage problems, cheating, alcohol, hurt, anger, fluff, story with smut, ...  

English is not my first language   

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The morning started like any other, with the familiar ding of notifications pulling me out of bed. I absentmindedly scrolled through my social media, expecting the usual flood of fan posts and pictures from conventions. Jensen had been overseas for weeks, and while I tried to keep my distance, his texts and calls were a constant reminder of the unresolved tension between us. I could feel in my bones that he was going to beg me to reconsider, to give him more time, to hold on just a little longer. But I was exhausted, worn down by the emotional toll of it all. I didn’t think I had another fight left in me.

Then I saw it.

My thumb hovered over the screen as the headlines and fan theories exploded across my feed. Fans were buzzing with speculation, piecing together clues that had been floating around for days. The most glaring detail? Jensen hadn’t been wearing his wedding ring. But nothing could have prepared me for what came next.

A video from a panel Danneel had done the day before started autoplaying on my feed. She stood alone on stage, her expression a mix of bitterness and sadness. My heart raced as I hit play, dreading what I was about to hear.

Danneel didn’t mince words. She addressed the rumors head-on, explaining that she and Jensen were separated. She paused, her gaze hardening, and then she dropped the bombshell that made my stomach twist into knots.

“He’s been unfaithful,” she said, her voice cold and steady. The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. “That’s why I’ve chosen not to do any photo ops with him. I need to take care of myself, and I won’t pretend everything’s fine when it’s not.”

I could barely breathe as I watched the video, my heart sinking further with every word. Danneel’s accusation felt like a punch to the gut, the kind that knocks the wind out of you and leaves you reeling. My mind raced, trying to make sense of it all.

She told the people she had her suspicions for a very long time, she didn't say my name but she mentioned it being a long time friend and co worker of him. The implications of what she was saying were too much to process. I knew there were problems between them, that much was clear, but hearing it confirmed in such a public, final way was devastating.

In the following panels, I saw Jensen trying desperately to put out the fire. His attempts to smooth things over were met with mixed reactions, the fans divided between those who supported him and those who sided with Danneel.

He explained it wasn't just a one time thing, that he fell in love and fell hard, that he and Danneel had been together for the public eye, not wanting to discuss anything publicly. Asking for his kids sake to let it be. Even though she made his life a living hell, he never said one bad word about Danneel. Taking the blame all on him.

The speculation was growing, spreading like wildfire across social media. It felt like the walls were closing in, the secret world we had shared crumbling around us.

My phone buzzed in my hand, and I glanced down to see a text from Jensen.

“Call me. Please.”

My hand shook as I read the message, the words blurring on the screen as tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted to call him, to hear his voice and somehow make sense of this mess. But I was paralyzed, unable to move, my thoughts spinning out of control.

I knew Jensen would beg me to stay, to stick by him through this storm. He would tell me he loved me, that he needed more time to figure things out. But Danneel’s words kept echoing in my mind, louder and louder until I couldn’t think straight.

“He’s been unfaithful.”

The guilt hit me like a tidal wave, pulling me under and drowning me in regret. I had been the reason for their separation, I was the one who had pushed Jensen to this point? The thought was unbearable, a weight on my chest that made it hard to breathe.

I felt horrible.

With trembling hands, I typed out a reply.

“J, I know we need to talk, but not like this. Not now. I’m sorry.”

I tried to hold my ground, to keep the distance I knew we needed, but Jensen didn’t let go. My phone rang again, his name flashing on the screen, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Then, a notification popped up—voicemail. I hesitated, knowing that whatever he had to say would only make this harder, but I couldn’t ignore it.

With a deep breath, I pressed play. The moment his voice filled my ears, my heart broke all over again. He sounded devastated, his words shaky and broken, and I could hear the unmistakable sound of tears in his voice.

“Please, just listen,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know she was going to do this. Before we left for Europe, Danneel said she wanted to come along to help our relationship, to work on us. I thought... I thought we were going to, I don't know, talk about how to work things out with the kids and divorce and all. I tried to reach you, to tell that I left her. Please just... call me."

He took a deep breath.

"She blindsided me. I had no idea she was planning to say all that. I swear, I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

He paused, his breath hitching as he tried to compose himself, but the next words came out in a choked sob. “I love you. I need you. Please, don’t shut me out. I don’t know what to do without you.”

The voicemail ended, leaving me sitting there in silence, my chest aching with the weight of his words. I could picture him, alone and broken, thousands of miles away, and the thought of him hurting like this was unbearable.

I couldn’t keep doing this to him, or to myself.

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and called him back. The line barely rang before he picked up.

“Jensen,” I said, my voice trembling. “Where are you?”

He sounded relieved, almost desperate as he answered. “I’m in London for a couple of days. I would really want to see you.”

I didn’t hesitate. As soon as I hung up, I booked the next flight out. I didn’t know what I was going to say when I saw him, but I knew I had to be there. The distance, the silence, none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was that he needed me, and I couldn’t let him go through this alone.

The hours until my flight felt like an eternity, my mind racing with what might happen when I arrived. Part of me was scared, terrified of what this might mean for us, for the mess that our lives had become. But another part of me, the part that still loved him with every fiber of my being, knew that I couldn’t stay away.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, I boarded the plane. The flight was a blur, my thoughts consumed by the sound of his voice in that voicemail, the pain in his words. I replayed it over and over in my mind, each time feeling the tug of his need pulling me closer to him.

When the plane touched down in London, I was filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. I knew that whatever happened next could change everything, but I couldn’t let that stop me. Jensen needed me, and that was all that mattered.

I stepped out of the terminal, my heart pounding as I scanned the crowd for him. And then I saw him—standing there, looking as lost as I felt, his eyes searching for me wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. The moment our eyes met, all the fear and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a deep, undeniable pull towards him.

I walked towards him, my steps quickening as I closed the distance between us. He looked exhausted, his face etched with pain and sleepless nights, but the moment I reached him, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he buried his face in my hair. “I never meant for any of this to happen, not like this not publicly.”

I held him tight, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and for the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to let go. The weight of everything we’d been through seemed to melt away as I pressed my lips to his, not caring if anyone saw. Jensen didn’t care either; he kissed me back with a desperation that made my heart ache.

When we finally pulled away, I noticed a few people in the crowd recognizing him—recognizing us. But Jensen didn’t flinch. He grabbed my luggage with one hand, keeping his other arm securely around my waist as we made our way through the terminal. He only stopped once, briefly, to sign an autograph for a fan who had hesitated before approaching us.

“No pictures today,” he said gently, offering a tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The fan nodded, understanding, and thanked him before Jensen turned back to me and we continued walking.

I’d seen Jensen interact with fans countless times, and he almost never turned down a request for a photo. But today, I could see why he had to say no. He looked exhausted, like the life had been sucked out of him, his usual energy replaced by something heavy and dark.

--

We finally made it to his hotel room, the door closing behind us with a soft click. The room was quiet, almost eerily so, a stark contrast to the chaos that had been swirling around us. Jensen set my luggage down and turned to me, his expression a mix of relief and something deeper—something that spoke to how much he had been holding in.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, stepping closer to him. “Of course, J. I couldn’t just stay away, I just... needed time.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek as he searched my eyes for something—reassurance, comfort, maybe even forgiveness. “I’ve missed you so much,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t know what to do, how to fix any of this.”

I took his hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “We’ll figure it out,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Don't we always?”

Jensen pulled me into another embrace, holding on like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for a moment, we just stood there, clinging to each other as if the world outside didn’t exist.

After a few minutes, Jensen finally pulled back, his eyes searching mine.

We moved over to the couch, and he sat down beside me, our legs brushing against each other. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his back.

“Talk to me, Jensen,” I urged gently. “What’s going on in your head?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the couch. “Everything’s a mess,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought I could keep it together, keep everything separate, but it’s all falling apart. I never though she would hit such a low blow."

I reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension radiate through him. “You told her about us?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the question hung between us, the answer holding so much more than just words.

Jensen nodded, his eyes clouded with a mixture of regret and resolve. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I told her everything. About how I feel about you… how I’ve always felt.” He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. “She tried to dismiss it, saying it would change, that it was just a phase, but I told her it wasn’t. I asked for a divorce.”

My breath caught at his admission. “And?”

“She said no,” Jensen replied, a bitter edge to his tone. “She’s refusing to let go, saying I’ll come around, that it’s just a rough patch. But now she’s telling everyone her side, twisting the story to make it look like I’m the one at fault, that I’ve been unfaithful. She’s dealing the cards her way, trying to make me the villain.”

"And I know in a way I am guilty, I did cheat I know that. But no one knows how many year I put up with her, just for the kids."

The pain in his eyes was palpable, and without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him, pouring every ounce of my feelings into it, hoping to ease the hurt even just a little. When I pulled back, his gaze was searching mine, fear flickering in his eyes.

“I’m afraid this will push you away again,” he confessed, his voice trembling slightly.

I shook my head firmly, realizing in that moment that he had chosen me, that despite everything, he was here with me. “I’ll never leave you,” I promised, my voice steady with certainty.

Relief washed over his features as he pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me like he was afraid I might slip away if he let go. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

But I silenced him before he could continue, pressing my lips to his in a heated kiss, pouring everything into it—my love, my fear, my hope. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling, our bodies molding together as if trying to erase the distance that had been between us for so long.

His hands moved to cup my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears I hadn’t realized had started to fall. “I love you,” he whispered against my lips, the words raw and filled with a desperation that mirrored my own.

“I love you too,” I whispered back, the truth of it echoing in every beat of my heart. "I've always loved you." The confession hung in the air between us, a truth that had been buried for far too long. Jensen pulled me closer, his hands wandering over my body as if trying to memorize every inch of me. I could feel the tension in his grip, the way his fingers trembled slightly as they traced the curves of my back.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice breaking as tears welled up in his eyes. The raw emotion in his words tugged at my heart, and I nodded, feeling my own tears threatening to spill over.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied softly, my voice thick with emotion. I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, trying to offer some comfort. “It’s late, J. You probably need to get some sleep.”

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine, vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen before. “Will you stay tonight?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid I might say no.

I smiled softly, my heart swelling with love for him. “If you want me to,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I’ll stay every night from now on.”

The relief that washed over his face was palpable, and he pulled me into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck whispering. "I'd hoped you'd say that."

--

Jensen crawled into bed, his movements slow and heavy with exhaustion. From the bathroom, I watched him through the open door, brushing my teeth as I saw him fighting to stay awake. His eyelids drooped, and I could see the weight of everything he’d been carrying in the lines of his face. It broke my heart to see him like this—a wonderful man who didn’t deserve any of the distress he was going through.

As I rinsed my mouth, my thoughts drifted to all the “what ifs” that had haunted me for so long. What if I had been more straightforward about my feelings from the beginning? Would he returned the feelings a little earlier?

What if I had let him stay that night before his wedding, when he had been so vulnerable and unsure? Could I have saved him from all of this?

But those thoughts were a double-edged sword, filled with regret and longing. All I wanted now was for him to be happy, to find some peace in the chaos that had become his life.

When I finally joined him in bed, sliding under the covers, I felt his arm instinctively wrap around me. He muttered something under his breath, his voice thick with sleep, “It’s about time,” he said, his words barely audible as he nestled his face against my chest.

I kissed his hair, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away as he held me close. “Sleep now,” I whispered, my fingers gently running through his hair in soothing strokes.

Jensen let out a content sigh, his breath warm against my skin. His body relaxed completely, his breathing evening out as he finally succumbed to the exhaustion that had been plaguing him. I held him like that, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a sense of calm between us.

As I lay there, watching over him while he slept, I made a silent promise to myself—to do whatever it took to make sure he found happiness, to stand by him through whatever came next. And as the night wore on, with Jensen safe in my arms, I finally felt like we were on the path to something better.

--

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3 If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Taglist: -> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

@kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-winchester

@winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy @n-o-p-e-never @stefansring @mayafatimakhan

[lilliana17]

Started thinking of a what if With Mariana and Slime trying again getting along better. Their new kids never get caught in the middle of their fights. The ghost of Flippa feels hurt bitter "Why couldn't they be like this for me? Why couldn't I have that?" Those fights hurt her and stressed her. Anger slowly simmers in her, she died young she was still just a little kid. Tallulah finds her and helps her understand. That the ghost girls parents were devastated by her death that it was a reality check for them. They were riddled with death and never ment to replace her. Ghost Flippa calmed down the anger disappearing to reveal a hurt child that went through too much. She knew her parents loved her even though things ended tragic. But it's always easy to blame yourself, kids see things in a more black and white manner. Later that day Tallulah left a picture she helped Flippa make on slimes door step. A family photo two parents and three happy kids.

Tempted to wrote a one shot on this idea but unsure

[star-girl69]

Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: am i evil? probably. i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of fire, mentions of death, a little fighting, mentions of being tied up, crying, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Sixteen- Mothers & Fathers

—-

Grace keeps a box on her bookshelf. She calls it her sister box, and she used to cry whenever she looked at it too long. In it, she keeps a marriage certificate, a photo, and two death certificates.

You don’t have much of your mother, only the sister box and the videos she left behind, her lab coat. But you truly have nothing of your father.

Besides for the stories, of course.

As a marine, arriving in the same squadron as Colonel Quaritch, the two of them rose up the ranks with each other. Where Quaritch was, your father was a step behind. Quaritch even respected your mother enough, so it was natural to him to promise his friend that he would look after you.

They both knew that Pandora was dangerous, and they both knew what could happen. Martin dying was not only devastating to your family, but was a major blow to the general’s ego. One of his own soldiers? His own friend?

He told you about your father, protected you, and you thought you knew him well enough. But slowly, after seeing what his soldiers did, seeing him punch Jake, you realize you never even knew him at all.

You didn’t expect him to replace your father, to be your best friend, maybe you didn’t even know what you expected. But you didn’t expect this.

“You let me down, son.” He presses pause on the screen.

You stand anxiously behind Jake, rubbing your aching wrists from being tied up. You want to just grab the handlebars and push him out of there, back to the link room.

He leans down, face inches from Jake’s. You want to kiss the bruise on his face.

“So, what, you find yourself some local tail and you just completely forget what team you’re playing for?”

“Her name… is Neytiri,” you hiss, fists clenching. The Colonel has taken so much from Neytiri- the least he can do is say her name.

Quaritch let’s out a dry laugh.

“Parker,” Grace barks, “there is still time to salvage this situation. Parker…”

“Shut your pie hole!” Quaritch shouts, standing so he faces your aunt.

“Grace,” you say, wanting to reach out and pull her back, but you’re rooted in place.

“Or what, Ranger Rick?” she scoffs. “You gonna shoot me?”

“I can do that,” he bites back.

Grace shakes her head in disbelief. “You need to muzzle your dog,” she hisses to Parker.

“Yeah, can we just take this down a couple of notches, please?” he starts, arms crossed as he puts himself in between the two, like one lonely sandbag facing an entire hurricane.

“You say you want to keep your people alive?” Jake asks, chin pointed up. “You start by listening to her.”

“Those trees were sacred to the Omaticaya in a way you can’t imagine,” Grace says, but Parker only rolls his eyes and steps back.

“Oh, you know what? You throw a stick in the around around her, it’s gonna land on some scared fern, for Christ’s sake!” he shouts, his tone makes mocking, as he circles around you.

“I’m not talking about some kind of pagan voodoo here,” Grace shoots back. “I’m talking about something real, something measurable in the biology of the forest.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

Grace sighs. “What we think we know is that there is some kind of electrochemical communication between the roots of the trees, like the synapses between neurons.”

Parker narrows his eyes, face twisting into something ugly, disbelieving.

“It’s a system,” you blurt. “There’s connections between all of the trees, like this entire world is some sort of brain. And each tree has ten-to-the-fourth connections to the trees around it. And there are ten-to-the-twelfth trees on Pandora.”

It feels good to go back to what you know, to recite what you have learned through years at your Aunt’s side, from the videos your mother left. The slides and documents and samples you poured over mean something.

“Which is a lot, I’m guessing.”

“It’s more connections than the human brain,” Grace says, taking a few steps forward, as if she can force the awe of Pandora into him. “Get it? It’s a network. It’s a global network, and the Na’vi can access it. They can upload and download data. Memories. At sites like the one you just destroyed.”

Despite the grimness of the day, you cannot help but smile at your Aunt’s joy. She loves Pandora more than she loves herself.

“Yes!” she exclaims again, mistaking Parker’s silence for understanding.

He starts laughing. “What the hell have you people been smoking out there? They’re just goddamn trees!”

Grace throws her hands out, “you need to wake up, Parker.”

“No. You need to wake up.” His smile drops as quickly as it was there.

“The wealth of this world isn’t in the ground,” Grace interrupts. “It’s all around us. The Na’vi know that, and they are fighting to defend it. If you want to share this world with them, you need to understand them. You need to listen to my niece, to Neytiri, to all of them.”

“I’d say we understand them just fine…” Quaritch starts, hitting a few buttons on the screen, “thanks to Jake here. Take a look, sweetheart.” He holds his hand out to you, and you step around Jake-

“No, Y/N, don’t- don’t look, please-” he starts, and your start to frown, staring at the plead in his eyes, feeling the desperation in his grip.

But you hear his voice.

It sounds different, coming from the screen, more robotic, but still him.

“They’re not gonna give up their home,” he says. “They’re not gonna make a deal. F-for what? Lite beer? And blue jeans? There’s nothing that we have that they want.”

You think he says more, but the world is starting to crash in on you, and it feels like you’re burning alive- but it feels nothing like when you burn with them.

“I… I have to go,” you mutter, tears in your eyes, and Jake tries to grab onto your hand.

“Baby, please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“No!” you screech, throwing his hand off of you, and he doesn’t try and touch you again. “I have to go.”

“Where?” he says, “where? You can’t-”

And what could he say? You can’t leave the base? You can’t get hurt? You cant stop loving me?

“To Neytiri,” you sob.

—-

The first thing you say when you wake up is her name.

You barely even say it, it is more like a frenzied gasp with the same number of syllables. She’s there immediately, and you recognize the Tsahik’s room deep in Hometree, the smell of herbs filling your nose.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and your eyes are still blurry, movements still sluggish, trying to adjust. It’s harder, when your mind is not really in it. “What’s wrong, my human?” she coos, her hand on your face, the other around your waist, helping you sit up so she can pull your head against her shoulder.

“Jake,” you say, vision clearer, voice returning. But you were crying when you climbed into the link pod, and the tears return now, tenfold, even while you’re in her arms.

Her eyes flick to his lifeless body.

“He knew,” you breathe, “he knew, I have to tell Eytukan, and- and Mo’at, Neytiri, please,”

She stares at you for a moment longer, confusion written on her features, and you think she might just dismiss you as crazy and force you to rest. But she must see something in you, see past your reckless emotions, so she nods, slightly unsure.

“We’ll go see them,” she soothes, already shifting to her knees, running her hand over your hair. “It’s okay,” she says, but it doesn’t feel okay. It will never feel okay again.

—-

After Neytiri helped you stand, pressed her hand to your chest and forced you to breathe in and out, you managed to have some reign on your emotions. Betrayal still stung at you like a thousand cuts, but you had to push it aside.

You were one of The People now, and you had to at least warn them. But you didn’t even know what was going to happen. All you know is that Jake is a traitor- and that the humans plan to come.

Neytiri still wraps her hand in your own, and you suppose it would be worrying to see your mate wake up, panicking and crying, so you cannot blame her for her worried grip. You like it.

“Father! Mother!” Neytiri calls in Na’vi, and you breathe deeply, even deeper when her hand drops from yours.

“I-” you scramble to translate the words, “Eytukan,” you start, when another voice rings out.

“Eytukan! I have something to say.”

His Na’vi is rough and choppy like waves in a storm, but his emotions and the pleading in his eyes makes everyone understand the importance.

“Listen!” Grace shouts.

You want to jump at Jake, burn him at a pyre, attack him and kiss him all at once.

“No!” you screech, pointing a finger at him. “He is a traitor-”

“Y/N!” Grace shouts, her eyes cutting to you, and she has never yelled at you like this before, never looked at you with such annoyance and anger in her eyes. You shut up just out of shock.

Neytiri’s arm slides across your chest, pulling you flush against her. You can feel her confusion, the tension in her chest. She carries her emotions physically, and you can feel her shallow breaths.

“Speak, Jakesully,” Eytukan says, holding a hand out, ignoring your outburst. Jake plays his character well. Why is Grace even standing next to him? Your stomach sinks. What could have happened?

“A great evil is upon us… The Sky People are coming… to destroy Hometree.”

Neytiri’s arm squeezes against you, breath quickening, and you want to say something, anything, but you can’t.

You have grown accustomed to losing all your life, but you have never felt something being so viciously taken from you like now.

“Tell them they’re coming!” Jake shouts, and Grace is quick to translate.

“You have to leave, or you’re gonna die.” Jake reiterates.

“Are you certain of this?” Mo’at asks.

Jake breathes so heavily for a moment, and tears well in your eyes again, and you reach up to grab Neytiri’s arm.

“Look, they sent me here to learn your ways so one day I could bring this message and you would believe it.” You can feel Neytiri falter against you. “But not- not Y/N. It was me.”

You can feel the understanding sink into Neytiri’s bones.

Her breathes go wild, and she lets go of you, and you imagine pieces connecting in her head with each step she takes. A puzzle falling into place. You, waking up crying, your cries of “he knows”, what Jake just said.

She puts her hand on his shoulder, grabbing his attention and forcing it on her. The decision to look at her seems easy to Jake, and your stomach rolls.

“What are you saying, Jake? You knew this would happen?”

You take two steps forward, almost hopeful you’ve hallucinated what happened before, and he’ll say no and everything will be back to how it was.

But when he gulps, says “yes”, the grief and the pain of it all hits you tenfold.

“Look, at first it was just orders,” Neytiri lowers her eyes, taking in his words, and fresh tears fall down your face. “And then everything changed.” She sways backward, and he grabs her shoulder, before turning to you and reaching for your hand.

And you are burning and miserable and in love with him, so you let him tug you forward.

“Okay? I fell in love. I fell in love with the forest and with the Omaticaya people. I fell in love with Y/N,” he squeezes your hand, “and with you.”

She bats his hand away. “I trusted you.” It is an accusation.

“With you,” he pleads, pulling you closer, trying to keep his hold on Neytiri. “With both of you.”

“I trusted you!” she sobs, and throws his hand off of her, reaches out and hits his other, so he has no choice but to let go of you too.

“Trust me now,”

His hand falling from yours is like the final ember of the fire fading, the last song, the last cheer. It makes you realize that this is all there ever was. No love, not with Jake Sully, only betrayal.

She screams in Na’vi, and you lower your head to the ground, knees threatening to fall out from under you, too distraught to translate her words.

You hear her hands hit against his chest, and he lets her.

“You will never be one of The People!”

“I shouldn’t have…” he breathes.

“We tried to stop them!” Grace shouts.

You press your hands over your face, listen to Neytiri yell more, singing her song that sounds like sobbing, like sorrow, cry into your palms.

You recognize Grace’s hands anywhere. Her fingers wrap around your wrist, and she takes them from your face, pressing them to her heart.

“My baby,” she starts, but you will know betrayal today.

“Did you know? Did you know what he was doing?”

You want her to say no. You have never wished for anything more.

“I-” she tilts her head to the side, smiles, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “You’re so much like your mother, baby, so much-”

“Tell me, tell me,” you sob, trying to pull away, but she won’t let you.

She swallows. “I- I had my suspicions, but I didn’t know for sure-”

“You knew!” you cry, and she lets you push her away, and your feet are so unsteady. Jake and Neytiri made you feel like a continent. They gave you roots, a place to settle, a home to return to. But without Jake, with half of you missing, you feel like an island.

Your knees and shaking, and you push past her, try to push past him, eyes filled with so many tears you can barely see in front of you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you hear his voice, feel his hands, “I’m sorry, I-”

“Let go of her!” Tsu’tey yells, pulling you toward him. “She is one of The People,” he hisses, digging the knife Neytiri threw at Jake deeper.

“Bind them,” Eytukan orders, even as Grace screams that they can’t, they have to leave, but Jake only lets them bind him.

You feel like a flower from Grace’s book, wilting and dying. Your happiness, you bloom was quick. The next time you look up, it is Mo’at before you.

“Ma’ite,” she calls you, before leading you through the crowd, guiding you into Neytiri’s arms.

You fall against her, like the final petal, and she sobs into your neck, breathes you in, maybe trying to calm herself. She has to be strong for her people- you have to be strong for her, for them.

But all you can smell is something burning.

—-

taglist:

@eywas-heir @kitkat1690 @tiajk @reallysparklychaos @behindthearcane @neteyamforlife @aeslenya @ghoulbli @luvvsnae @personapersonally @bubble-blu @ameriesworld @itsyoboysparkel @ok-boke @arschbohrer @ambria @ssc7514 @w3ird11 @vane28282 @littlexscarletxwitch @erenjaegerwifee @myheartfollower @simp-erformarvelwomen @maevirago @n7cje @aerangi @minkyungseokie @disaster-in-waiting @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @hot15936 @noname2246 @fanboyluvr @ara-a-bird @fussel9913 @iwaslikeblah @hai-kbai @rosymccheese @itszzmoon

everything taglist:

@monsterwasstolen @fanboyluvr @artologia-blog1 @tulipatheticee @elvyshiarieko @fluffisalliwant @fluffi19 @jeizllz @myheartfollower @fy-fy-world @minkyungseokie @ivy-plays @blueberryfailureclinic

[winduska]

₊  🎞️ ⊹  .ᐟ Understand me | Hyunjin x Jeongin

.ᐟ Pairing: Hyunjin x Jeongin

.ᐟ Genre: Angst, Fluff

.ᐟ Word count: 5.2k

.ᐟ Author's note: My friend gave me a prompt and I made this? This is my very first one shot so I hope you'll like it.

Ps: If you want to have the best experience, put some classical music in the background

୧ .ᐟ Wana, this is for you

Forelsket - The euphoria you experience while falling in love

Yang Jeongin—not a day goes by where his name doesn't flatter in a conversation. Everyone gossips like crazy. The media are fighting for who will have a better photo of this man, and even the fans don't disappoint. Yang Jeongin is a model, but not a normal one. If we're talking about measure, he's a huge one. The whole of South Korea knows his name by now, and he's aware of it. Despite his popularity, he's definitely not a snobbish person who only takes an interest in himself. Everyone tries to make him seem bad, narcissistic and mostly arrogant. Probably to achieve some sort of victory for themselves. Hundreds and thousands of people are jealous of this man's success and wealth. Success, that was hardly worked for by Jeongin himself. Making himself grow and climb a high ladder full of obstacles and unnecessary weight. That's what his life was all about. From a kid to an adult, without any breaks or time for himself. Being raised into such mindset doesn't help at all. His parents didn't make anything easy for him, it being quite the opposite. Anytime Jeongin craved an answer from his parents, a reason for his mistreatment and under appreciation, he got a simple explanation. Explanation that contained the thought of having to work for everything by yourself. If you want to reach something in life, study and work for it without needing help. You don't need the help of others, even your own family. They perceived him as a strong, self standing man that doesn't struggle with minor occurrences. But the minor occurrence called 'love' is something that no one warned him about. Not even his own mind. His mind didn't even try to trick him into avoiding it, which he deeply wished for.

A few souls caught his attention and blossomed into dating and the thing called 'love'. But those flowers quickly lost their petals, and thorns were the only thing left. Left to rot and spoil into pathetic disarray. To put it simply, most of the people he dated used him for money, fame, and many more things. Not caring about Jeongin's needs for understanding and care. Devastation was a disease, and Jeongin had one. The emotions that Jeongin lived through every time were harsh and sharp with reality and endless disappointment.

It's been a month since Jeongin's last relationship. Many things have changed, including his mindset and some major personality traits. Don't get me wrong, he's a sweetheart and a wonderful man, but he's not that easy to get anymore. Being easy to get is a trait that you physically can't have in relationships, not to mention in the work industry. Many people used that side of Jeongin, which only brought him sorrow and hurt. Some may call him rude or mean, but it's not his true self. His fabulous colors are hidden from the outside world, which is gray and full of black accents. A world that doesn't appreciate the stupendous nature and grace of Jeongin himself.

One thing that has changed is a key person in his work who seems to be his main photographer. His last one didn't like Jeongin. It's weird, isn't it? Jeongin thought so too. He didn't understand why some people would work a job where you spend most of your time fulfilling quotas for someone you hate. Isn't that humorous and impolite? But then again, money move with our world, and the lengths people are willing to go through are insanely long. It's true that his last photographer took more money than he originally thought. Hiring a new one, and, to his surprise, acquiring the cheapest one yet. His suspicion was high, but when he looked through his artwork, which was full of photos and even photos of his own art, it was amazing. He caught himself getting lost in those distinct pieces. Admiring and absorbing those marvelous artworks, he shook his head and looked away from the monitor.

Hwang Hyunjin—that's the name of Jeongin's photographer. The moment Jeongin's manager recommended him and showed him his portfolio, he knew he had to hire him. Even though, on the outside, he didn't really care who this person was. The only thing that mattered was that his work is considerably cheap, and his artwork looks good. So what could go wrong? Getting scammed by him didn't sound valid, and according to the reviews, no one said anything bad. So why not give him a shot?

At the end of the day, Jeongin was very glad that he had indeed hired Hyunjin. Their work connection is good, even great. On some occasions, other photographers took advice from Hyunjin. Many were seeking help, and Hyunjin always caught their eye. So they just flew straight to the source. That itself may sound foolish, but it's what happens sometimes. Both of them know how to get their job done and what to do without having to talk much. That's something both of them value, since neither of them are superb with words.

Jeongin poses naturally, Hyunjin takes photos amazingly.

That's how most people would summarize their work flow. Sure, it's different when you're at your client's studio, where hundreds of different people walk by and order you. The stress and expectations make Hyunjin a bit uneasy, but the true beauty is in their own studio. Quiet, peace—only a loud clicking sound that's heard every time Hyunjin's focus reaches its highest and his confidence tells him to press the camera button. But he would be lying if he said that he focuses on the photo all the time. True, his main focus is on the composition and perfect angle. But maybe his eyes concentrate on the man that's shown on the square display. He can't help but adore the way Jeongin's stylist always makes him look so ethereal and brilliant. A simple job that makes Hyunjin lose his breath all the time. Jeongin was always styled in a way that was atypical, attractive and special. Clothes? Fancy and really fitting, complementing Jeongin's body perfectly. They hugged his figure impressively, with Hyunjin wishing that he could see Jeongin in those clothes for more than these stupid few hours.

"You're staring." The voice was sharp, but warm. Admonishing, but soft. It was a voice that Hyunjin knew very well; at this point, it was like a magical harmony. Hyunjin quickly refocused and shook his head a bit, just to make sense of what's real and what's not.

"Sorry." Hyunjin didn't bother to explain why he was staring or why his voice was so quiet and shaky. To him, it was obvious, and he had to play this safely. On the other hand, Jeongin didn't pay much attention to it. This was a common occurrence by now. He caught him staring numerous times but didn't really care about it, nor did he warn him. He always presumed that Hyunjin was focused on the angles, lights and overall composition. A thought of him looking at him never crossed his mind; he didn't even brush it lightly.

Hyunjin sighed and looked at the photo. "Sorry I set the iso wrong." Few clicks and Hyunjin set it right in the blink of an eye. But afterwards, Jeongin noticed his photographer's change of mood and stopped posing. He walked away from the set and began to walk towards Hyunjin himself. Hyunjin's stare raised, looking at the heavenly creature that was walking towards him. Is he an angel? The next thing he knows is that the younger man is standing next to him, taking the camera and wrapping his fingers around the handle. The photos on the little display changed as Jeongin looked through them and paid attention to every single one of them.

The proximity was a little too much for Hyunjin. Seeing him up close is a whole different level that no one could ever prepare him for. The smell of Jeongin's absurdly expensive cologne was so sharp that Hyunjin will remember it until the day his soul vanishes.

It didn't take much for Hyunjin to realize that he had developed a crush. At first, he wasn't sure if these euphonious feelings would be there forever. And he still isn't; who knows if he'll ever be? But what he did know is that it's the most beautiful but, at the same time, the most frustrating thing Hyunjin has ever experienced.

Beautiful in the sense of spending time with Jeongin. Sure, they don't hang out at all, but at work, it's their time to shine. Seeing him regularly and in his best moments. Seeing those stupid dimples whenever he smiles, his eyes that shine like stars in galaxies, and his perfectly shaped lips. And to his surprise, even the moments of Jeongin's casual state were there to be seen. Sometimes Hyunjin had to come over and have a chat with Jeongin about their work, mostly about Hyunjin's vision as a photographer. There are many spots and places where Hyunjin wants to shoot, most of them being easy to get to. Following this, the moments when Jeongin opens the door are simply the most precious. His hair was a complete mess, and his clothes casual, no fancy and expensive pieces, just a casual shirt and pants. A quick sneak peek is always present when Hyunjin watches the sight. He eyes him up and down, taking in his state.

Frustrating in a sense of desperation. He knows, or at least he thinks he knows, that Jeongin doesn't want a relationship. There wasn't a single hint of Jeongin looking for a significant other. Heck, Hyunjin doesn't even know if he likes men in the first place. It's frustrating to see how someone you like doesn't even take a slight interest in you. The look he wishes to get is nowhere near Jeongin's eyes. If he saw at least a little sparkle in them, he would feel better and slightly more confident in his emotions and feelings. Sometimes he wonders if frustration is a strong enough word. And the worst thing? He doesn't know if he should be frustrated with Jeongin or with himself. Is he making false illusions in his head, making up a world of delusions and wishes? Wishes, that will most likely not happen. It's okay to have a crush, but it's definitely not okay to have an unhealthy obsession with someone who doesn't even acknowledge your grief.

April 14th 2023

And here they are, in a park before sunset. The weather was good—a typical spring afternoon. A warm one, but with a hint of a cold breeze in the air. The sun was slowly setting in, and they're still having enough time for some photos. It was Hyunjin's idea to come here, obviously. The theme of the client's commission fits this setting perfectly, and the view is mesmerizing, full of beautiful, colorful accents.

"What do we think?" Hyunjin asked, playing around with the settings of the camera that was set in his hands and walking towards the spot. Jeongin was walking next to him, absorbing the nature that was surrounding them. As sad as it sounds, he doesn't have a lot of time to go for walks like this. His time is precious, and going for walks isn't in his schedule at all. Hyunjin looked up from the camera and let his gaze fall on Jeongin. Jeongin's eyes held a more sorrowful expression, which broke Hyunjin's heart a bit. Those gloomy eyes didn't suit him at all.

"What's the matter?" A hand landed on Jeongin's shoulder, and his head perked up in Hyunjin's direction. He noticed a slight hint of worry in Hyunjin's eyes. He didn't know why, but it felt nice knowing that someone's at least a tiny bit worried about your emotions. The younger man sighed, breaking eye contact in a quick motion and pulling Hyunjin's hand down from his shoulder. Hyunjin realized what he did, and he felt a bit embarrassed about such a gesture. He cleared his throat and walked again.

"It's just that you seem down." Jeongin knew that worries were acceptable, according to the fact that they were really visible. Still, talking about his feelings and emotions is hard. It's just something that he struggles with and doesn't want to deal with. It's a long and tough way, which he doesn't want to commit to yet. He nodded a bit and smiled, throwing a reassuring look at Hyunjin. This particular look made Hyunjin be more at ease, knowing that he didn't overstep any kind of boundary.

"I'm fine now, so don't worry about me." Suddenly, dimples were shining like stars, and Hyunjin was speechless. He wanted to say something, anything, to change Jeongin's mind and tell him what's wrong. But the more he looked at him, the more he understood him. Opening scars that aren't healed yet is a dangerous game, which he definitely doesn't want to play right now. Hyunjin gave him a small smile back to show that he understood him.

Both of them looked away from each other in awkwardness, not knowing what to say next. Hyunjin cleared his throat once again and pointed at the spot in front of him.

"You can go stand right there." Jeongin nodded back and trailed off. It was a beautiful spot, to say the least. And it was even more beautiful when Hyunjin saw the boy walk and pose for the camera. For a second, he forgot how to breathe. Whenever this sentence was written in a story, he thought it'd be humorous. Thinking, that it's not real. His mind quickly changed its opinion when it saw Jeongin. When Hyunjin looked at Jeongin posing, the beautiful sunset created the perfect scenery behind him. The field of white flowers that was scattered all over the ground, making this the perfect place for literary anything. With almost shaky hands, Hyunjin raised the camera, looked through it, and focused it. His focus was on so many things, not knowing if he should look at Jeongin or the whole photo. After shifting his looks from place to place, a click was heard, and a photo showed on the small camera display. When Hyunjin looked at it, he was left flabbergasted. Utter disbelief flushed his eyes as his gaze stayed locked on the photo. Jeongin looked ethereal and perfect; nothing else could ever compare to this beauty. Not a single being on this planet could've ever existed as handsome as Jeongin. And if so, it was a poor copy of atoms and molecules that didn't carry as much personality and story as Jeongin.

"Are they good?" Hyunjin's gaze perked up, and he didn't even notice that Jeongin was standing right in front of him. Trying to maintain his composure, Hyunjin started to speak. "Actually it's just one photo but-" Before he could finish his sentence, the battery in his camera died. A little battery indicator shined on the display before dying. He looked at the annoying sight and roamed around his pockets, getting reminded that he forgot to bring his extra battery. He groaned and sighed, knowing there's nothing he can do. Jeongin watched him, and it wasn't really comfortable to see him annoyed. But well, his annoyance was valid.

"Let's go take a stroll by the river, then." Jeongin offered, and Hyunjin gave him a surprised face. What's this? He never asked for such a thing. Hyunjin, of course, nodded and smiled a bit. It was such a small gesture, and it made him feel better and even happier. Happy that his angel offered him to spend some alone time with him. Gosh, since when did he become so cheesy? Is this what 'love' does to a person? One thing is certain: He needs to treasure this and keep himself at bay.

The walk was peaceful—a little too peaceful. Private schedules are the best and Jeongin's favorite ones. No fans, no paparazzi, and no annoying cameras - except Hyunjin. His favorite. The only camera that he's willing to stand and look at. Honestly, he never thought that a random photographer would be such a huge part of his career. But not only his career; his life as well.

Lots of thoughts are crossing Jeongin's mind, but the one that keeps bothering him is his fame. Being famous is not easy, and it's definitely not a dream land, as everyone perceives it. Everyone thinks that being famous is just taking photos, shooting videos and doing sponsorships. But it's nowhere near that easy and sweet. Actually, it's hell itself most of the time, if not all the time. Companies force you into stuff you don't feel comfortable doing. Making you sign contracts that take away your whole piece of self. Not being able to express yourself the way you want to, just the way you're told to. Mistakes? There is no room for those. Luckily for Jeongin, his manager has a little bit of sense left in his head. Never pushing him into anything. Only stuff that's ordered from above. Being big in an industry where everyone is secretly praying for each other's downfall is heartbreaking for Jeongin. He never used money to his advantage, let alone bribing someone. Never used a celebrity for his own success or to feed his ego. Maybe that's what makes him special? Not being a complete bastard and having empathy in his veins and mind?

It's definitely something that Hyunjin adored with every single piece of his mind. He and Jeongin grew closer without them knowing, adapting to the messed up word and circumstances they were in. Hyunjin himself didn't understand how much Jeongin meant to him, not until now. Fear of losing him overflowed his senses and even thinking about separation made him sick to his stomach. While talking to Jeongin, Hyunjin could see things he had never saw before. Feel emotions that he never knew existed. Hyunjin hasn't realized for a long time, but Jeongin really is the closest person that he has. Bold to say considering their relationship. It's a heavily work one, built on success and price. Is he that stupid to think that this has anything to do with real love and feelings? Despite his thoughts, Jeongin will forever hold a special place in Hyunjin's heart. A place reserved for him. A place that will never be held by anyone else. Not a single form of living will be able to supplant Jeongin's being.

Only if Jeongin could get the message.

"Hyunjin." When he heard his name escape Jeongin's lips, he immediately got thrown out of his thoughts. Whenever he gets lost in his own head, the sense of what's real and what's not is nonexistent. World stops, basic human needs suddenly don't exist and only the thing that he thinks about is present in every corner of his mind and body. "You're crying."

Silence. The kind of silence that neither of them expected nor did they think that they would get into such a predicament. The mood wasn't able to say how it was feeling. Was this whole thing uncomfortable? Or is it just unknown? They kept standing and looking, not knowing what to say or do. In this situation, normal human beings would say stupid things. Resulting into temporary happiness and peace, but is this what they should do? On one side, there's a person that's deep with unspoken and kept in feelings. And on the other side, there's a person that's not even thinking about such things. A man that's escaping from the whole apprehensive sphere, the beings in there threatening his stand and breaking the solid ground by the form of love.

May 26th 2023

Hyunjin's Diary

I still see you in everything that I do. I keep chasing you with my thoughts, thinking about how things could've gone differently. Furthermore, I will never stop, you know? Those months of work, the amount of feelings we shared and traded. I wish I could talk to you again, just one more time. I wish to not be scared of your reaction. In my years of existing and 'living', I never thought that I would do such a thing. I was scared of separation, yet I still separated us. Isn't that funny? No, I can't use the word funny. Not anymore. It keeps reminding me of you. I've always described and perceived you as a funny person, even though your smiles were rare. Whenever I caught a glance of them, I didn't care about anything else. Wishing you only the best and not wanting anything spiteful to happen to you. But in the end, I hurt you, didn't I? My withdrawal was sudden to you, but it longed in my mind for a good couple of months. I don't want to blame you, even though I did at first. I thought, how can someone be so oblivious? For me, it was clear that my feelings were visible. To this day, I don't know if you truly were that oblivious or if you actually caught them. Neither of that matters anymore, because I can't stand this. The reason I left and resigned was that I simply couldn't stand it. Or, more likely, I couldn't stand myself. Fighting those malicious thoughts every day wasn't going to last forever. I still fight them, trying to understand and befriend them. But it's hard. I don't know for how long I will have to keep fighting this battle. But I know one thing: I won't win it. I can keep trying, but it's not possible. By separating, I made this battle easier for myself, debilitated the enemy's feelings, and strengthened my own. If there's one thing that I wish I could've said while you were in my life, it would be a simple sentence.

I love you Yang Jeongin.

Hyunjin sighed, putting the barely working pen down and looking up at the ceiling. He was tired. Tired of everything that he'd been through. Life took a toll on him, and not knowing what he did, he ended up in such a state. Every single day, these thoughts keep coming back into his head, hoping that they'll be seen by the so-called Jeongin.

Hyunjin shifted his hands, picking up the diary from the table and closing it. But before the book made a closing ruckus, a thin piece of paper fell. Swaying in the air and hitting the ground, Hyunjin crouched and picked it up with his plane hands. When he turned the piece of paper around, his whole being turned pale. He was pale and confused of his own emotions. Emotions that were sudden and unexpected. There was the photo he hid in the depths of his diary. It was the one photo of Jeongin that he took, in spring. It was their last encounter, yet the most memorable one. The spring colors that were sprayed all over the photo were ravishing, being sunkissed by the enchanting sunset. His grip tightened, wanting to tear it apart and make it go away as fast as possible. He wasn't mad, but frustrated. This frustration was very familiar by now, showing and proving his actions and wrongdoings.

March 13th 2024

Rain was the only thing that was going on for the past week. It kept raining and raining, occasional thunderstorms. But something like that never stopped Jeongin from going out, especially it's meaning that fewer fans and annoying cameras would be present. Having alone time is hard, not to mention when you want to go for a walk. So, catching this opportunity, Jeongin immediately took his umbrella and grabbed his coat. Walking out into the cold, rainy weather mixed with a refreshing breeze. It didn't rain too much, but just enough to help him clear his mind.

Walking around, Jeongin stumbled upon a familiar park entrance. He froze, thinking back on the moment of shooting a particular spring commission. And thinking about a specific person. His heart ached, like someone pinched a needle into it. It's been almost a year since the separation, and he's still not sure where Hyunjin went. He left without a word. Not a single letter or a piece of paper with stupid cliché words on it.

Without needing to think twice, his legs were leading him into the park. He didn't need a particular reason or an excuse; he just wanted to go there and think about everything. Will it hurt? Maybe. Does he care? Absolutely not. In the end, it was his fault and his alone. Not thinking twice and forcefully blinding himself, thinking that he's not strong enough to carry the weight of Hyunjin's feelings.

First step into the park, rain hitting a bit more. Suddenly his mind enhanced, feeling like it's burning under the heaviness of limpid raindrops. It was like his skin was aware of every single raindrop that fell.

Second step brought him into his mind, feeling both the rain and the thunderstorm in his head. How is he going to do this? What's his plan, and what is he trying to achieve? Is he just searching for some kind of clue? He doesn't know, and in the end, he doesn't need to know.

Third step feels heavy, both physically and mentally. He's not prepared for whatever this despair will bring him. He's alone in this world. Millions of people know him, adore him and love him. But he's the only one who knows that none of that is real. They don't love or adore Jeongin; they adore the piece of him that's shown and made up by his acting skills and personality. Not because he wants it to be like that, but because it has to be like that. And that's why he always wondered: does Hyunjin adore that side of Jeongin that's made up by his other self, or does he adore the real Jeongin? He wants to know. Actually, he needs to know. Because he himself can't find the answer. He doesn't know how he was acting in Hyunjin's presence, because reality stops every time. He didn't understand it at first, thinking that Hyunjin is yet another person who's just comfortable. Likewise, he found comfort in him, not knowing why.

Jeongin's steps led him to the spot. The memories came back like a dream that never ended. This whole scene felt like a dream, but the burning sensation of raindrops kept reminding him that this was indeed very real. He stopped, and everything stopped. His stand was firm without any sort of movement. Divine thoughts filled his mind once again, yearning to be seen and understood. Is this how Hyunjin felt all along? If so, Jeongin feels even more cruel than before.

All of this felt like hours, and at this point, he was not sure if the wet things on his face were raindrops or tears. It can be a mixture of both, but it doesn't matter at all. His heart ached, his mind swayed, and his being stayed. It stayed in the same position and place, not wanting to move because it would distinguish all of his thoughts.

"Still the same cologne?"

Reality broke and words dissolved. Jeongin smiled a bit and let out a tired chuckle.

"How could I ever use a different one after knowing you." Those words were symbolic and very true. A different cologne could never replace this one. It was too meaningful, holding a special significance and life period.

"I never knew you were so cheesy." Both of them laughed, not caring about their situation or the ridiculous reality. It definitely does feel like a dream, but not even a dream could be this hitting and sharp with their presence. Both Jeongin and Hyunjin stared at the horizon, keeping the silence to speak for itself and letting it treat their wounds. Wounds that were too deep, but still fixable.

Catharsis was very present, yet still hidden behind the wall of silence. All of their feelings want to scream: Be let free. At the end of the day, that's what they deserve. They deserve to be seen after being kept in for a long time.

"Isn't it funny how we all do things that are bad for us? They hurt us, yet we still let them happen." Hyunjin said these words with awareness. Knowing that they're true for both of them. They symbolized everything that had happened. Hyunjin knew that loving Jeongin would bring sorrow. Sorrow, that will be a spiteful thing. And on the other hand, Jeongin knew that being forcefully oblivious was going to be bad. And not only for Hyunjin, but for himself too.

"But those things make us the happiest." Knowing the meaning behind these words, both of them took them in. For Hyunjin, loving Jeongin was the happiest thing in his life. All of those moments that they had were very precious and special. Something that Hyunjin could never forget. For Jeongin, he managed to be the happiest while not caring about the truth. Facing the truth of love would be something that would break him. Choosing a world of careless acts was something that protected Jeongin. It was a pitiful protection, but it was enough to escape reality. Taking responsibility was something that he couldn't manage to do.

Jeongin mustered up his confidence, thinking that this moment would be a confirmation of reality. He turned his head to look at Hyunjin, his eyes catching a glimpse of him. It's been a year, yet he still looks like the same bewitching person that worked for him.

Hyunjin stared back, turning his body to face him. After a couple of seconds, they realized that they were real. In this situation, there wasn't any room for agitation. Anything could go wrong, but they won't let it happen. Not after this year of suffering. Jeongin didn't let the outside world stop him, reaching for Hyunjin's hand and taking it into his own. Their fingers interlocked, hands felt like silk that was meant to be held. Their hands fit perfectly, not wanting to be touched by anyone else. Jeongin's other hand made its way to Hyunjin's cheek, making itself comfortable. He stroked the face that held many qualities. A face that was meant for Jeongin. He will treasure it forever, keeping it in his possession until the day he dies. He closed his eyes, not waiting for anything else to happen, and pressed his lips to Hyunjin's. There it was—the moment they both longed for. Not believing it, Hyunjin moved his lips and kissed Jeongin with more pressure and love. Everything was happening, and not a single thing could stop this moment. They broke the kiss, not wanting to overdo anything. Jeongin smiled, showing Hyunjin his true nature and letting his heart speak.

"I love you, Hwang Hyunjin." Hyunjin stared into Jeongin's eyes. Eyes deep with affection and unspoken feelings that were yearning to be known. And finally, they made their revelation. They didn't care about the word's problems and circumstances; they just needed to get to the person that they belonged to.

"I love you too, Yang Jeongin."

[thelarriefics]

STRANGERS TO LOVERS FIC REC, Part II: Below you will find more fics that have Harry and Louis barely knowing one another before intimacy. (Part I)

📖 Let Your Heart Be Light by @cyantific (77k)

Louis Tomlinson, a self-proclaimed holiday-hater, loses his job two weeks before Christmas. Broke and desperate to see his family back home in England, he takes the only job left at the mall as one of Santa’s helpers. Harry is an unconventional mall Santa, the youngest one they’ve had in years, but with as much holiday spirit as any other seasoned Saint Nick. He’s determined to un-Grinch the new guy in Santa’s Village if it takes until Christmas, then he finds out the devastating reason Louis has lost his Christmas cheer. Will Harry be just the thing Louis needs to help him get his sparkle back?

Featuring Liam as the manager at Santa's Village, Niall as an easy-going Irish elf and Harry's best friend, grumpy Grinch Louis and his best friend Zayn and one matchmaking Mrs. Claus.

📖 where the tide takes you, i will follow by @pinkcords (53k)

There’s no way around his departure, their inevitable fate. Harry will leave and he will return to London and when he sits in his new flat, wherever it might be, he will think of this summer and the warmth the sun brought him and the way it felt to be loved. He will compare all his future relationships to Louis and when they fall short, he will be disappointed. Harry knows this.

Or, Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

📖 You're The Christmas Wonder, That Makes Me A Believer by @lousluv91 (44k)

There were two things that every person in Louis Tomlinson's life knew for sure.

First, he was a perfectionist. A hard-working person, a caretaker who took his responsibilities seriously and often appeared to be kind of intimidating. Though those he trusted also knew his very soft and loving side.

The other thing they all knew was that Louis hated Christmas.

or the one where Louis is a grinch and Harry teaches him to love Christmas. Maybe Louis falls in love with more than just the holidays.

📖 Purring In My Lap (The Kitty Fic) by @yoursolosong (40k)

Louis and Harry are two strangers who find an abandoned kitten at the same time and argue over who's going to keep it. Begrudgingly, they decide to co- parent because they're both stubborn and don't trust the other to take proper care of the kitty.

📖 now you're in my life (I can't get you off my mind) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (32k)

In reality, it’s a little different. Because as much as Harry loves the concept of dating, the reality sucks.

📖 Ding-Dong! Daybreak by @thinlinez (28k)

All it took was a flat bike tire, confusing usernames, pumpkin flavored biscuits, a chaotically supportive dog and food deliveries at daybreak for Omega Louis to fall hard.

📖 Sweet as Honey by @teamlouis2023 (21k)

Louis has always been shit at cooking. When he discovers Sweet as Honey on Instagram, owned by chef Harry Styles, he intends to mock him by recreating his recipes with his awful skills, posting photos on his own Instagram account, Nailed It. It's all fun until Harry asks to meet him.

📖 I Just Want To Start a Flame in your Heart by @peachbootylouis (21k)

Harry’s impending album release meant promo season was in full swing. While at an industry party with his manager, a harp player catches his eye and Harry is instantly bewitched.

📖 Checking Them Out?: How To Use Your Library Science Degree To Get an Alpha by @insightfulinsomniac (20k)

When a flirty, attractive alpha patron checks out an entire shelf of literature on omega behavior and omega rights, Harry can’t help but wonder why the man is so interested — is he a really attentive partner, or is he just a creep?

It doesn’t help that this alpha visits weekly to exchange his books… and that he smells absolutely divine.

Whether he likes it or not, Harry has a crush.

📖 lucky me, lucky you by @sun-lt (17k)

He wants to let Louis have that—have him, on his knees, easy and good and willing—badly.

📖 Be Mine? by @softfonds (11k)

Getting dumped the week before Valentine's Day wasn't in Harry's plans, and neither was being dragged to a concert to forget about it. But a sign Zayn brings manages to turn his night around in more ways than he hoped for.

📖 i need something, so tell me something new by @alwaysxlarrie (10k)

Louis goes on vacation to New York City to enjoy the good weather and good food - he even has a list of restaurants he wants to eat at. Much to his delight, his first restaurant stop includes a gorgeous curly boy and his nosy but supportive best friend. Maybe he'll get more than what he came here for.

📖 Wait by the Light of the Moon by @jaerie (5k)

Being a single parent of a newborn was not in Harry's plan. He can barely keep himself together doing everything on his own. He can't explain why he finds comfort in his neighbour next door, but apparently it's mutual.

📖 Get Nesting & Soft Knots by @pocketsunshineharry (5k)

AU where Omega Louis who runs a nesting materials Youtube channel meets Alpha Harry who knits his own blankets

📖 Perfect, For Now by @parmahamlarrie (4k)

Moving to a new city is always hard, being away from home, finding your new community - none of it is easy. Dealing with all of this while being touch deprived is even more difficult.

That is where omega Harry Styles finds himself a few months into his move to Brighton.

Then a mysterious alpha's scent enters his life, and he finds that he can't stay away.

📖 Unplant by @hellolovers13 (4k)

Louis should've looked where he was going, then he wouldn't have to desperately try to save a little flower now.

📖 She is Beauty, We are World Class by @exquisitelycloseted (3k)

A 70's London AU where Louis loses himself, and Harry finds him before he gets lost.

📖 Netflix Original by @allwaswell16 (1k)

Harry's hot neighbor overhears that he doesn't have Netflix.