#This year is all about giving myself grace and forgiveness.

[bylightofdawn]

Man, I hope people don’t mind random-ass perspective shifts in a chapter because this one has like swapping back and forth between Jaster and Myles pretty shamelessly. I tend to TRY and stick with one POV per chapter but if I can’t, I’ll generally try and swap it at like a major chapter break.

This chapter though it starts out very much from a Myles POV for like….a short bit and then I was like ‘whelp swapping to Jaster. -has him wander out of the room to make a phonecall to Plo- then have him wander back in, speak with Myles and now it’s swapping over to Myles POV for this next part for very important plot reasons.

I myself as a reader, I don’t really care. I DO notice when it’s like a co-written fic where I think people were pretty much just RP’ing and then they just altered it to be a fanfic after the fact. When you can see those major POV shifts from where one author hands off to another. And they don’t quite make the transition as smooth as it could be then I’ll notice cause it stands out sorta like a sore thumb. Again, it’s not anything I’m going to put down a fic for but I do notice those kinds of things.

And typically just for coherency’s sake, I’ll try and stick with one POV for a scene or even an entire chapter.

Then I get outlier chapters like this and get randomly paranoid people are going to notice and or care. And realistically? Who is REALLY going to care about that but me? The neurotic, chronic over-thinking self-catastrophizer that I am?

No one cares, Karen.

And sometimes, you just gotta tell yourself that over and over again until you either believe it or bully yourself into getting out of your own head. Or at times, make it worse and you get stymied cause that 1,000% can happen as well. Ask me how I know?

Seriously, the amount of needless self-doubting and overthinking I will do, ya’ll don’t even see a sliver of that shit show. I will grind to a FUCKING DEAD STOP mid-scene and spend an hour needlessly researching one little point that literally no one but I will notice or care. But can I stop myself from having that almost compulsive need to research and make sure I’m using the right medical term or describing something correctly in hopes one person who might work in that field will notice and appreciate my obsessive need for correctness? Or worse, they are in said field, I fucked it up and then it stands out to THEM as much as a sore thumb?

I cannot be the only person who does this, right?

EDIT: Also? Fanfic writing is not going great this morning, mainly because I am not a morning person so it's hard to fucking FOCUS especially when I'm going on life five hours of sleep to boot.

My brain is an ADHD dragonfly that flits from one topic to another seemingly on a whim. As anyone who looks at my blog and the random amount of reblogs and random bullshit I've been posting the past hour or two can attest.

I'm debating giving up and just taking a shower to try and fully wake up for work because I can barely keep my eyes open and I keep yawning like crazy.

Bleh, sometimes you just can't write and I am trying to get better about being kind to myself when ADHD brain kicks in and I cannot simply sit down and focus on my fic long enough to get more than a few words at a time written.

And that's perfectly okay. It does not make me bad a author or a failure as a writer. I just need to put the fic away and go do something else instead. The words will come eventually.

[transexualpirate]

some of the best janus quotes from his grwm imo:

- "the only opinion that matters is yours"

- "everyone else is less than you"

- "i have to make a point to buy more glue sticks remus keeps eating mine"

- "i basically just yk. shed my skin two or three times a year."

- "i also dont have any pores, have you considered not having pores?"

- "ew. get away from me. i dont like you,,,, roman-"

- "the swedes... they're up to something."

- "whatever. we all have our flaws- not me of course"

- "i love to gossip. that's something i know about myself. and i accept it. and i forgive myself for it. and because of that i no longer have to work on it"

- "guilty pleasures? why would a pleasure be guilty?"

- "me me memememe man im gorgeous look at me did i get handsomer overnight"

- "unlike a lot of people you meet, the block button is your friend. don't be afraid to block a bitch."

- "steal chapstick. who cares. it's chapstick."

- "i give you janus: she is beauty she is grace she will lie right to your face"

[pullupinarari]

Lean your weight on me [LH]

6. I always wanna die (sometimes)

Summary: a 9 chapter series where you are a famous singer, living the career of your dreams. But your chaotic schedule makes your body give in, making you lose your memory and forget (almost) everything.

Author’s note: I’m back with the series! Thank you for waiting for me to figure out my chaotic life 🙂‍↕️ this is sad and intense, get ready 🤧 hope yall enjoy it! Mwah

wc: 5146 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

all chapters here

It’s been a while since you’ve felt like yourself - if you even know what “feeling like yourself” truly means. You’ve had some good days before. And whether the days were good or bad, you had Lewis by your side. You were slowly recovering, making improvements while working to get your memory back. You would laugh, your eyes would shine with curiosity and amusement as Lewis would tell you all the stories about your old life. All of this happened before you felt like you were drowning in your sorrows, in an empty mind that brought nothing but misery into your life, dragging everyone around you into the deep end with you.

You can’t help but blame yourself every single day, trying to keep pushing even if you feel like a million thoughts and emotions are slowly choking you, until you finally run out of air.

You reached out to Grace after the whole cake situation, wanting to make amends after acting like a bitch to her. You know you hurt her feelings, and there was a possibility that she wouldn’t forgive you - not even wanting to look you in the eyes ever again. But that’s not Grace. Grace has a kind heart, and she still loves you as if you were 14 years old again. So she gave you another opportunity, wanting nothing more than to have her best friend back.

She is driving you to the shopping center - maybe a day out would be nice? Maybe it will help you, distract you from the darkness erupting in your brain, growing more and more each day. Plus, you feel like having some time away from Lewis might be good for you. Don’t get me wrong, you love him to death - you feel it in your bones, with the way your heart flutters every time you hear his voice, how his stare on you can make your stomach flip, and how you absolutely dread the thought of him being in danger, or something happening to him. But, it feels like you aren’t made for him anymore. You can’t shut out the thoughts that keep telling you to leave him, that you need to let him go - he deserves to be free from all this.

You clear your throat as a way to stop thinking about all this again, looking at the tall buildings through the car window as you pass by.

“Everything alright?” - Grace asks you, taking her eyes off the road for a second, focusing on your empty expression.

“Yeah, everything is fine” - you try to convince her, “I’m just really happy and relieved that you decided to give me another opportunity. I’m sorry again, but it really feels like I’m fighting myself and my mind, while trying to move forward with life. It’s been rough” - you admit, your head hanging low, embarrassed of your current situation.

She gives you a simple smile. “It’s not your fault, don’t blame yourself. Life has been tough, but you are the strongest person I know. You might not remember this, but you are a fighter, you have been your whole life, and we are not letting you give up now. We are here for you” - she holds your hand after she parks the car, making her words echo in your mind.

Walking inside an enormous shopping center makes you feel small, confused and lost, not knowing where to go. What are your favorite stores? What type of clothes did you buy before? Right now, you only want to feel comfortable, choosing a lot of Lewis’ shirts as an impulse - they are loose, cozy, and they smell like him. And even if his scent is enough to make your heart grow, it is also enough to emphasize the way your stomach drops, everytime you think about your marriage.

Either way, you follow Grace - she definitely knows where to take you, what clothes to show you, and as time goes by, you start to feel lighter, forgetting about all the bad moments that have been staining you lately. Your best friend cracks jokes that make you laugh, you try on some clothes that make you feel pretty, helping you see yourself in a whole new light.

But, when you two decide to head out to go get some ice cream, a group of teens approaches you with their phone cameras flashing you, screaming your name, and it’s like a volcano erupts inside of you.

How do they know you? Why are they taking pictures of you while you are having ice cream with your friend? You are scared, shaking, not knowing what to do, and Grace politely asks them to leave you alone, shielding you from them. Then, she grabs you by the arm, pulling you into the exit with her, leaving that place and taking you back to the car, as she sees your desperate state.

Once you sit in her car again, you close the door next to you and you finally feel safe, far from everyone else. You let yourself cry, trying to find a way to let go of all the emotions suppressed inside of you.

Is this how your life was before the accident? Did people disturbed you anywhere you would go? Would you ever be able to live a normal life?

The thudding in your chest grows bigger and bigger, making you hold on to the car handle for dear life as your head feels dizzy, while tears keep streaming down your face.

And it’s like a snowball that comes crashing down: you started crying because of the fear you’ve felt near that group of people, a million thoughts racing through your mind about your old life and how little you know about it, and you can’t help but wonder what part you play in all this, in this new life that you have now.

The more you think, the more you cry, your breathing getting caught in your throat making you struggle to catch some air. Grace hands you a bottle of water, “breath in and out, slowly”, she tells you, trying her best to help.

“What the hell just happened?” - you manage to get the words out after some sips of water.

“Those people recognised you and were trying to take pictures of you. Maybe they are your fans, you are famous, after all. Your life is splattered on the internet” - she reminds you. And it’s so crazy to hear someone saying that you are famous. Millions of people around the world know you, they know a big part of your life, and yet, you don’t know who you are.

After a while, you calmed down, and Grace thought it was better if she drove you back home - this was already enough emotion for today.

You walk inside your empty house. You knew that Lewis wouldn’t be home, he went out for a work meeting while you were supposed to be with Grace - he would probably have a nervous breakdown if he knew that you were home alone now.

You rush upstairs, entering your closet, searching every drawer. Your mind feels heavy with the need to understand how your life was before, and you know that your phone will have all the answers that you need. So you look for it, remembering that Lewis mentioned something about keeping it inside a drawer or something similar. Your movements are fast, racing as much as your mind right now, your fingers trembling with anxiety to find it.

And when you do, you look at it for a few seconds, having second thoughts, wondering if you should really do this or not. You gulp, feeling sure that you need to know who you were before. You grab the device and sit in your bed, your hands shaking as you hold it, the weight of everything you should know about your old life is inside of it.

You unlock the phone, your face is still the same, even if you don’t remember any of your passwords, and you silently thank technology for that.

Your eyes analyze the apps on the screen, it’s like an infinite world that you could get lost in. You decide to click the messages icon first, furrowing your eyebrows to the fact that you have more than 400 messages to answer. But you don’t feel like opening chats with people that you can’t remember. Instead, you open the chat you have with Lewis.

You never thought you could find such great comfort in reading the messages you shared with your husband. The way his words always seem right, caring, worried, the way he would always say how much he loves you.

But you also note that the last few messages that you guys sent were negative, in a much heavier tone, and you were talking about how tired you were feeling, how you couldn’t take it anymore. You proceed to look at your camera roll, scrolling through a never ending folder of moments in your life.

You see a lot of pictures with Lewis, and it’s incredible how you always look so happy next to him. You laugh when you see some funny, silly videos that you two have recorded together. You see pictures of you with people that you supposed to be your friends, family, and a lot of what seem like ‘work pictures’: there’s pictures of setlists, new lyrics written on a paper, empty arenas, sold out stadiums. You see pictures of yourself performing night after night, and you can’t help but notice the degradation in your state, as the pictures show a more recent date.

The last picture was taken on the last show you gave, the one before you blacked out. You zoom in on your face, your finger unconsciously caressing your features: your skin looked so pale, your eyes looked small and tired, and you genuinely looked so sad and defeated.

When your fingers close the camera roll, you search for new information, and that’s when your eyes land on a folder: “social media”.

You are hesitant to click on it. You know how Lewis always says that people spread a lot of lies and hate on social media, Grace’s words echo in your head, telling you how your life is all over the internet, and the thought of what you might find scares you.

But still, you open the folder, opening your instagram page first. Scrolling through it, you see the type of pictures that you used to post: concert pictures, photos of you supporting Lewis on his races - letting you know that you were, indeed, used to the environment surrounding you during race weekends, domestic posts about your married life. You take lots of mental notes about your life before, hoping that your small memory will remember all this.

You open the comment section in some posts, seeing how people used to be so kind to you, complimenting you, declaring their love for you, letting you know how much your music meant to them. Reading all those caring messages makes your heart grow - maybe that’s it. That's your path. Maybe your purpose in life is to help other people, by sharing your feelings through your music, seeing how your fans relate to your emotions and how it makes them feel seen and understood.

You open twitter next, hoping to find more positive messages. But, as soon as you open your profile and read all the comments, the posts that people are tagging you in, your stomach drops. It’s like a dark cloud stops above your head now, and a storm is about to wreak havoc inside of you.

It doesn’t take long until it starts raining - tears run down your face as you read some of the meanest comments you can find. People talk about your accident, they spread rumors about you cheating on Lewis? You don’t understand how people can act so differently on different platforms. Instagram looked like a fun, safe space, where you could share your life with your fans and get nothing but love back. And twitter looks like a war zone, where you are fighting all by yourself and everyone else is against you.

It’s like you can’t stop reading all the negative stuff, your finger keeps scrolling, your eyes keep reading every hate comment that you can find. It’s killing you to know how people feel about you, all these negative feelings hitting you like a ton of bricks. And the sense of revolt comes. How is it possible that you saw all this happening and yet, you never said a thing? You never stepped up for yourself, put an end to this?

Maybe you are just a puppet in everyone’s life. Maybe you’re here to do as you’re told: another show, another song, another comment - shut up, don’t you dare say a thing because that will ruin your image. Just sing and shut up.

You can’t help but feel like you’re not useful anymore. Like you already gave everything that you had to give. Your mind feels chaotic, like the worst place where you could be right now, but unfortunately you can’t escape it.

You sob into your pillow, letting it all out, and you’re so taken away by your emotions, that you don’t even hear the front door opening, revealing that Lewis was home already.

Your husband walks inside, going straight to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, taking it slow since he believes that he’s home alone. But, when he gets closer to the stairs, he’s taken aback by the muffled sounds coming from the top floor.

He rushes to your shared room, to find a crying wife, sobbing into the pillows so your cries get muffled - hoping no one would hear you.

Lewis immediately engulfs you in his arms, worry paints his chest as he hears your sobs grow louder as you feel yourself being held by him.

“My love, what’s wrong?” - he asks you in a calm tone, only to end up not getting a response from you, besides a sob. “Please, tell me what got you in this state. Let me help you, please” - he says again, his voice croaking, feeling emotional as well, his heart breaking at the sight in front of him.

You continue crying, feeling everything so intensely inside of you, wrapped up in your own head. But you gather the strength inside of you to hold yourself to Lewis, your grip tightening on him as you try to look him in the eyes, only to end up failing. You feel way too embarrassed by all this, and you wish that he wouldn’t have to see you in this situation.

“I’m sorry” - that’s all you blurt out, hiccuping as you feel all the wet tears streaming down your features.

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure that you have nothing to apologize for, my love. Please, just tell me what’s going on” - he tries to insist, growing anxious now.

He opens the water bottle that he was holding before and hands it to you, signaling for you to sip on it. You do it, trying your best to stop your sobs now, scared that Lewis might get annoyed by having to deal with you - your mind is a never ending creator of negative thoughts.

After some minutes, you manage to stop your sobs, and you take some deep breaths while a few tears keep spilling from your eyes, silently now. He carefully wipes them with his thumb, as he kisses your temple, still holding you close to him.

“Everything is just very, very confusing, and very hard for me lately” - you open your heart to him, seeing how his facial expressions soften at your words.

His hands rub your back gently, comforting you as you gather your thoughts to let him inside your mind just a little.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take” - you take a deep breath. “I feel like I stopped making progress a while ago, and now I just feel so empty, but full at the same time - full of rage, frustration, anger. And I can’t stop myself from being consumed by all this, and I feel like it’s killing me. It truly is killing me. I can’t stand myself most days. The sound of my own voice annoys me. I hate myself. I hate my mind because the voices in my head never shut the fuck up and I just want a break. I want to have some silence inside of me, I want to be alone, everyone keeps reminding me that I lost my memory. I wish I was all alone because then, I wouldn’t have to force myself to remember old things. I don’t even know who I was nor who I am, but that doesn’t even matter anymore. I don’t matter anymore.” - you sigh, feeling like a weight left your shoulders when those words leave your mouth.

Lewis stays silent for a minute, speechless at what he just heard. He knows things have been hard, but he didn’t think that it was so bad. Listening to the love of his life saying that she doesn't matter, that she wants to disappear, it’s a bullet hitting him right in the heart. He quietly breathes, trying to keep some tears from falling - he needs to stay strong, for the two of you.

“I’ll be right back” - he says, kissing your head before leaving the room, leaving you with a curious Roscoe, staring at you from the ground.

He’s back before you know it, entering the room with his laptop in his hands. You furrow your brows at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he just joins you on the bed, signaling for you to sit on his lap as he puts the computer in front of you.

Your eyes follow his every movement, as he opens a folder of videos - the videos that you have been recording through your journey. He starts playing the first one.

“See this girl? This was the first video that you recorded. This was a month ago, Y/N. Four weeks ago, you didn’t remember anything about your parents, and now you remember how their house looks, you remembered your dad’s birthday. And you were so scared to open up and to talk to other people, and now you go out with Grace, and you even take my mom’s calls when I’m showering, and you’re not afraid to talk to her anymore” - he explains, moving to play a different video.

“And this one, baby, this was two weeks ago. You thought you didn’t know how to play the piano anymore, and your mind remembered all of it after I showed you a few chords. See? You’re still the old you, you just need some pushing until your mind gets there. Because you definitely have it all inside of you, things like these just take time, my love. We can’t rush something as important as getting your memory back” - he tries to explain, his voice sounding as sweet as cotton candy to your ears, as always. “And you have come so far in this journey already my love, and I’m so incredibly proud of you” - his words sound full of honesty.

You look him in the eyes, and he can read you so well. He can see how insecure you feel, all the doubts in your mind, the way your heart feels weak and fragile. And how badly he wishes that he could take all of that away - he would rather have the pain all to himself, than to see you suffering so much.

Then, his eyes notice how your hands try to hide your phone under a pillow, trying to distract him by calling Roscoe’s name. Lewis sighs to himself, now realizing what made you cry so much.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me, like you have to do it all by yourself. Cause you don’t. I’m here for you, and nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter what other people say, it doesn’t matter what might happen in the future. It was always me and you, the whole time, and that’s how it will always be. I’m here for you, so please don’t shut me out” - he says, taking your phone from under the pillow now, letting you know that you got caught.

“Nothing that you saw here matters. The rumors, the comments, the hate. None of it matters. What truly matters is the people who love you, that are by your side through it all, that give you unconditional love. Nothing else is real, baby. Our love, our family, our protection is real. And you can’t focus your energy on people that definitely don’t deserve it” - he puts your phone on the bedside table now, seeing how your face is filled with guilt and shame. His thumbs caress your features as his hands cup your face, drawing a trail of kisses from your cheeks, to your nose, reaching your forehead, making a small smile appear on your lips.

There he is again: being an absolute angel to you. And there’s the big siren in your head, reminding you that he’s way too good to you. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve him, not after everything that you’ve put him through.

“Lew, can you leave me here alone for a bit? I have a headache forming, I need to process all this” - you say gently, not wanting him to feel like you’re pushing him again - while you are, indeed, pushing him away.

He gives you an understanding smile, nodding as he kisses your forehead once again. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me” - he says before grabbing Roscoe and taking the dog with him.

You take a minute to actually process everything that he told you. Your mind fills with thoughts and a few memories that you have - from all the pictures, the messages, the moments you’ve shared with Lewis for the past couple of months. You can’t shut the feeling in your gut that tells you that you should figure out your life on your own, and stop dragging him to the mud with you. You saw how his eyes were glossing when he was talking to you, you see how your health is taking a toll on him. The truth is, you’ve been needing a lot of attention, as if you’re a baby, needing all the maintenance possible. It’s like he can’t take his eyes off of you, or else he would find you doing something stupid - like he did just now.

You get off the bed, entering the room next door where your piano is placed, looking like it’s eyeing you, telling you to play it. Maybe that will help you get rid of some hard feelings. And just like Lewis told you before, it really comes naturally to you.

All it takes is a few chords until you feel the melody vibing inside of you, forgetting about the world surrounding you as you start singing about all the chaos that’s going on inside of your mind. You sing your heart out, letting some tears escape as you address your marriage - such a hard topic being accompanied by a graceful melody. Your words sound beautiful, but they hold a harsh meaning behind each one of them: how you should let Lewis go, how you’re not good enough for him, and how you feel like he does everything he can for you, but he can’t save you from all this, no matter how hard he tries. You mention your will to be by yourself, to find yourself in a new life, maybe even with the possibility of finding a new lover in a new place.

When you stop playing, you look up, cleaning the tears from your face, and that’s when you notice a crying Lewis leaning against the door. His facial expression lets you know that he was there all this time, listening to every single word that left your mouth.

You’re unable to speak, you two being wrapped in a suffocating silence, just exchanging sad, disappointing looks. Maybe this is proof that you shouldn’t be together anymore, and when Lewis turns his back at you, stomping through the stairs like he had lost all the reasons to keep pushing, your head hangs low.

You feel ashamed of your behavior, your actions are mirroring the desperation running in your veins, trying to find yourself. But it seems that, the harder you try, the more you actually lose yourself. And maybe it’s time to go search somewhere else.

You get up from your seat in a rush, sensing a shot of adrenaline racing through you. You run downstairs, finding Lewis in the living room, his hands in his eyes as he tries to control his tears.

He looks up at you when he senses your presence. He doesn’t dare to give you a word, while your breathing is accelerated as you gain the courage to say to him exactly what is going on inside your mind.

“Lewis, I think it’s better for me to leave this house” - you quickly say, and the anxiety in your stomach grows when you see his expression: he’s empty, confused, hurt.

“What do you mean?” - he questions slowly, getting up from his seat now, to meet your height.

“I can’t be here anymore, I need to find myself in a different place. I can’t be here” - you explain, walking through the space in front of him now, feeling way too electric to stay still.

“Listen, I know this has been very difficult - for both of us. But we can overcome this, we can go anywhere else then if you want to-” - you immediately cut him off.

“No! Not ‘we’, I don’t want you to come with me! I want to be alone, I want to figure it out by myself! I don’t need a babysitter Lewis, you need to let me go!” - you scream while tears run down your face now, making you run to the front door, trying to get away from this place as soon as possible.

It’s like you feel a rush of energy that’s telling you that you don’t belong here. You don’t know where you belong, but you need to act like a grown woman and stand up for yourself. You bet to yourself that you were a wild soul before meeting Lewis, and you need to find that freedom again. You need to find your wings, and maybe that will help you fly far, far away from here.

You find yourself outside, opening the gate of your house to step into the streets - you surely have somewhere to go… right? Your legs stop you for a second, your eyes looking everywhere around you, your brain trying to find a route that you can take on, on a mission of finding a place that you might recognize.

The cars passing by are driving fast, the wind is hitting your face, messing with your hair, almost making you lose your balance since you feel so lightheaded. You have nowhere to go. Your cries grow stronger, feeling absolutely lost, abandoned by life, in a world that you don’t know.

Some vehicles honk at you, since you’re standing on the edge of the sidewalk, and that’s when Lewis’ arm pulls you close to him, his hands go to your shoulders, trying to shake some sense into you.

“Y/N! What are you trying to do?! What the fuck is going through your mind?! Look, I know I’m not perfect, and I don’t mean to paint you a perfect picture of our marriage. I wasn’t always good to you, we have our problems, I did some things that I regret! But you can’t do this! You can’t just leave and try to figure it all out on your own! Sometimes we need to put our guard down for a while and let others take the wheel. And you need to trust me enough to let me do this, because I am not letting you go, no matter how hard you try” - he tells you, his voice rising without him even noticing - his heart is racing at the thought of something happening to you.

You feel breathless, still looking everywhere around you, almost with no reaction at all. When your eyes land on Lewis’, you realize that he is everything that you have, everything that you know. You hug him tightly, sobbing into his chest, hiding your face from him after another action that you’re not proud of.

“Please, please don’t give up on me. Please” - you beg him, your arms tightening around him more and more, afraid that he will be the one running away now, once you let him go.

Instead of leaving, Lewis holds your body next to his. Tears are now running down his face as he stays silent, taking in everything that happened in a matter of minutes.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’ve been making your life a living hell. But please, don’t give up on me” - you repeat the phrase that’s engraved in your memory, after realization hits you: you too are afraid of the things you’re capable of doing now when you’re alone.

It feels like the sun is setting down around you now, and you’re stuck in a dark space, one that makes you keep losing your light and your mind more and more - that’s life for you lately. And you feel like Lewis is the one that allows you to hide in him, the one who puts you to sleep every night, the safe source of peace and protection that you can always run to.

“I love you, I love you more than anything and I know I should set you free” - you say between hiccups and rushed breaths. “I should let you go, and I want you to go and be happy without me, but I need to be selfish now and beg you please, don’t go. The chaos is all in me, and you’re the only person who’s been helping me calm it down a bit. I know I make everything ten times harder, but please Lewis, please. Don’t leave me” - your fists tight around the fabric of his shirt, regretting all the shit you told him before, definitely biting your tongue and tasting your own venom now.

And how lucky you are that Lewis holds the purest form of love for you, being capable of turning the world upside down for you. No matter how hard things get, no matter how badly you try to push him away, he could never hold a grudge against you.

Instead, he kisses your head gently, promising you: “I will never give up on you”.

———

taglist: @illalwayswaitforyourlove @literallegendicon @goldenroutledge @scenesofobx @irishmanwhore @forza-charles @felicityforyou

[kingofpopmj]

Happy Birthday My King.

Today, like every other day, I think of you.

I love you more than words can express.

Forever in awe that a person as selfless as you exists in this world.

It’s been an emotional few days, but as always Michael has inspired me. Specifically, to share a little more about myself.

Michael is my hero for many reasons.

I’ll never be able to explain each one— I don’t think I’ll ever have enough time to list all the reasons he means so much to me. This incredible man is threaded into the depths of who I am.

My childhood was nonexistent to put it simply. I experienced many forms of abuse. It took me so many years to understand it and even longer to find my voice. I put in the work to find my strength. It wasn’t easy and there were numerous times I wanted to give up. Thankfully, something or should I say someone, helped me fight my way through the darkness instead of continuing to be consumed by it. And, for the first time, I realized I was worthy of peace and carried power within my soul to move forward. Most importantly, I wasn’t alone. Eventually, I was able to face the evil that stole so much from me with my head held high.

Michael’s voice guided me every step of the way. He taught me how to handle every obstacle with grace and love no matter how difficult it might be.

I admire his talent, but who he is as a person led me through the worst moments of my life.

He is truly the only worth while role model I’ve ever had and I’m so grateful for him.

He taught me how to fight for myself. He taught me how to lead with love. He taught me how to forgive. He taught me how to live.

He saved me in every possible way one person can save another. For that, no amount of appreciation will ever be enough. I will forever hold him close to my heart. I’ll protect him, the same way he did for me. Endlessly.

Thank you Michael.

[sanaexus]

please please please- "this better be a fucking joke"

keeping your phone back in your pocket, you try to think of an solution which isn't the easiest thing to do when your ex is breathing down on your neck. but hey! positive thoughts only right? he didn't recognize you yet, which made sense considering the last time he saw you, you probably looked like an oompa loompa with a haircut that could rival michael kaisers's, but that was in the past (right?)

suddenly something clicked, if he didn't recognize you, you could just leave without being noticed and feeling bad. so that's exactly you tried, until a voice called out to you.

"leaving so soon?" the heterochromatic called out.

"just like you did every time?" oh. OH. you weren't supposed to say that, you didn't even realise you said that.

he let out a chuckle, "credit where credits due, i was a pretty stupid kid."

"pretty is bit of an understatement no?"

"debatable, i guess i own an explanation huh?"

"you kinda sorta definately do."

"well should we head out? not anywhere far away of course, just not with much people around"

"yeah alright" is all you said before you follow him to some corner of the arcade, looking around you spot a certain blue-headed man, an unconscious smile graced your lips, which didn't go unnoticed by the man beside you.

"who's got you smiling like that?"

"can you shut up and get to the point?"

"yeah yeah, but before i do, just hear my side out i know it doesn't excuse what-"

"nothing's ever gonna excuse cheating ok no sorry continue"

"like i was saying before i was VERY rudely interrupted, i know no matter what i say, it won't justify what i did but that aside-"

suddenly you see a mop of light blue hair infront of you, T-posing for 'asserting dominance' "DON'T FEAR WHEN I AM HEAR-oh fuck wait am i interrupting something important?"

"hiori OH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"gaslighting gatekeeping girlbossing of course" the man flipped his almost non existent hair and shaking some of that gyatt

"get out please get out oh my god why are you like this"

hiori before glaring at the purple headed-man, "this creature is staying?"

"yes now go, i'll call you when i need you okay?" you do a shoo-ing motion as hiori skips away.

"right uhm are they always like that..?"

"no, not really, now please for heavens sake stop stalling and explain yourself already"

"right so uh i'd like i was a very dumb high-schooler, and no doesn't excuse me cheating but i was a horny fuck, and you were always so busy i just couldn't do it anymore.."

"first of all you're still a horny fuck, and second why didn't you just end it then why did you have to resort to cheating..?" you were trying really hard not to cry but the voice crack probably gave you away, even just the thought of you not moving on from him nearly 2 years later, disgusted you.

"i don't know, i liked you i really did and i didn't wanna lose it but i didn't want to stay either, and i couldn't exactly explain myself, so i resorted to cheating." he explained, it was confusing if he really was feeling guilty and regretful.

"oh, uh i forgive you, ok no i don't but i've moved on from that, we were just kids and shit happens and i can't always hold it against you relationship goes both ways and so does the break up."

"i'm glad we got that cleared out wait you forgive me, so does that mean i can take you out on a date maybe?" he asked a bit hopeful

"oh my god aik-oliver you haven't changed at all, have you?"

"not aiku this time? you wound me, but is that a yes?"

"nope i still need some time to think uh how about you give me your number and i text you within this week if we can go out?"

"yeah that sounds nice." you take out your phone handing it to him as he types his number and saving it as "baby daddy"

"oh ew oliver ew!" you make fake gagging noises.

"hey! i'm not that disgusting...right?"

"i never said that, you're putting words in my mouth, but it was nice meeting again i'll see you around yeah?" and before you could reply you run off to find hiori and when you don't (big shocker) you figured you'd let the gc know (big mistake btw)

please please please ¡! - an isagi yoichi social media fic

synopsis modeling was fun, especially when you go to make friends and what happens when that exact friend goes to the same high school? the friendship of course continues into college. where you get your heart broken and the internet gets to know but then you meet a certain someone that makes you fall for them. so what happens then? chaos.

taglist is open¡! : @fairlyfuji , @semisutopia, @someprettyname , @csbnova , @ashlovelys , @chateaaa , @yeurisstuff , @starchivves , @m3gitsune ,@muffin-0 , @gojosexpiredcum , @bbmsxlene , @profesionalglazer

divider by @/xxbimbobunnyxx. all credits to her!

sorry guys no funfacts today 🙁 GUYS TRUST ISAGI WILL COME JS LET ME COOK PLS 🗣🗣💯💯🤬🤬😎😎💣💣🔥🔥‼‼💯💯🔛🔝

also I AM SO SORRY WHY IS THIS SO BAD WHY CAN'T I WRITE SHIT OMG I'M GONNA CRY also maybe double update bc i dont wanna fall off and seeing 99+ notifs makes me happy

[ssparksflyy]

my tears ricochet but its jason grace and his 'lover' that he cant be bothered to give attention to

"even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe all the hell you gave me? 'cause i loved you, i swear i loved you 'til my dying day" but its his lover knowing she wasnt perfect, but also knew she didnt deserve the way he treated her.

"i didn't have it in myself to go with grace and you're the hero flying around, saving face" but its his lover watching him be everybody else's hero and prioritizing people he hardly knew.

"and if i'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? cursing my name, wishing i stayed" but its his lover watching him at her funeral from elysium and seeing how pathetic he's acting, saying he misses her, as if he didnt once tell her in an argument she was the last thing on his mind at the time.

"you know i didn't want to have to haunt you but what a ghostly scene, you wear the same jewels that i gave you as you bury me" but it's the way he can't think of anything else but her, no matter how hard he tries, after she's gone. but it's the way that he had the audacity to wear the necklace he gave her when they started dating to the funeral.

"'cause when i'd fight, you used to tell me i was brave" but its their 'honeymoon phase' where he used to treat her as if she was the only person he'd ever care for.

"and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want, just not home" but it's the way he infiltrated her home that once adored her and made it all about him. the way camp half blood was once the only real home she ever knew, but now it wasn't. the way that jason once served as a home to her, only for a very short amount of time, but she was incapable of reaching that home as well.

"and you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones" but it's the way that he now realizes and regrets how much and badly he hurt her. the way she'll forever haunt him. the way he refuses to ever forgive himself and knows that apart of him died in shame that day.

"and i still talk to you (when i'm screaming at the sky)" but it's the way that when she was alive, his lover would beg all the gods for a way out. the way she wouldn't allow herself to leave but begged for the strength to continue fighting for his love that simply was no longer there.

"and when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)" but its the way that jason can't stop replaying the one video he has of her singing by the campfire and the way he can't fall asleep without listening to it.

"you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same" but it's the way that jason could've saved her from dying, but chose to help another camper in need, thinking you'd just get hurt and would heal eventually. the way that decision is the reason why he can't get out of bed in the morning, the way that decision is what causes him to lose himself.

"you turned into your worst fears" but its the way that jason realizes that he's no better than his father, the man he hates most, for being so careless and heartless when it came to somebody who loved and adored him in a way nobody else could.

"look at how my tears ricochet" but it's jason grace and his lover who both lost themselves for each other, but at different times. one of those times, being far too late.

his lover died in battle against an invasion of monsters in the woods of camp half blood. jason saw her just minutes before she passed, knowing he couldve helped her, but instead decided to help the camper who was only a year younger than her and who's name he didnt know. he figured she'd be fine and accepted the fact she'd get hurt, but knew she would heal later. years later, he's still killing himself from within for being unable to answer the question, if he knew it all then, would he do it again?

[ghouljams]

thank you for the thoughtful response and advice. i find myself struggling between what i believe, what i do and how i feel. i completely agree with the outside perspective others have given me and i try to give myself the same grace i’d give to someone else going through the same thing but the shame and guilt are still too strong. im in a waiting list for specific therapy. i’m sorry for dumping into ypur askbox i just can’t talk about it with anyone in real life

My love! You don't need to apologize for needing someone to talk to. I understand the struggle all too well. There was a good few years of my life where I could only find validation for myself through other peoples' objectification and sexualization of my body. It was a really vicious cycle of high-highs that can crashing down into a horrible drop that I didn't know how to handle.

It is a horrible truth that we are kinder to others than we are to ourselves. We see ourselves too often, we hear every unkind thought, we notice every blemish. We have never been taught to see our body as a friend, but rather as a horrible other that we must endure.

Shame and guilt are emotions that ultimately do not serve us. We recognize them, hold them in our hands, and then let them go. You can feel guilty for the way you treated yourself in the past, but that should not stop you from caring for yourself in the present or loving yourself in the future. You can feel shame for your actions, but ultimately you have to forgive yourself.

For God's sake, 18-24? You were just a kid. You were struggling to find a place for yourself, to find something to hold onto in the wake of a horrible horrible event. I think you can forgive yourself for the choices you made in trying to cope.

As I said in my previous answer, the people who love you won't care about your past except in the way it impacts you now. Any partner who you have in the future that makes a big deal about your past experiences, is not someone to stay with. Conditional love is not love that we hold onto, it's love we leave as soon as we are able.

I mean this so genuinely for everyone who comes into my ask box: the people you are or will be sleeping with should not(likely will not) care how many people you've slept with. Whether that number is 0 or 100. Sex is something that happens between you and your partner, not something that happens between your partner and your past.

[1whore1gang]

Ghost Drabble

“I thought you were dead.”

Hey friends!! Ghost won the pill so here’s a short and shitty little drabble for y’all.

It’s not super inappropriate, lots of grief, mentions of losing a child, lots of foul language.

Love you guys!!! Enjoy and PLEASE lmk what you wanna see! You guys are the readers after all so i wanna cater to YOUR ideas!! 🫶🏻

“No. I-“ She took a deep breath as she focused on her word choice. “Why, no- how are you here? I don’t get it.”

“Please, just let me explain.” Simon tried to reason with her as his heart beat out of his chest. “Please you have got to hear me out.”

“I’m listening but you better talk fast.” Her tone was a mixture of fear and command.

“It’s not what you think. When I joined this team, I wanted a new identity. I didn’t want to be who I used to be, the one who was tortured, the one who went through all that loss and pain. It’s not like I had anything left in my life anyways-“ Before he could finish with ‘but you’, she cut him off.

“You didn’t have anything?! Simon-“

“It’s Ghost here, they don’t want anyone leaking my identity.” He quickly corrected her and she looked at him offended, tears turning her eyes glossy. She paused for a moment her mouth agape.

“First of all, it’s not ‘ghost’.” Her words were mocking the name. “It’s Simon, because that’s who you were to me. You were Simon Riley, my Simon.” She accentuated her words. “Do you not understand what you meant to me? What weight you held in my life?” She paused, almost waiting for an answer, but he didn’t even open his mouth. “Second of all, you had me. You had our life. You had our daughter.”

Her statement bit him. It felt like a knife had went through him. “And when I was grieving her death you know what else I was doing?!” Her tone escalated to one of anger. “I was mourning you!!!”

Her face was now etched into his mind forever, sure to haunt his dreams from now on. Tears were streaming in rivers down her face, staining the collar of her shirt. Her eyebrows were furrowed in sorrow, her lip quivering. “I’m so sorry.”

That’s all he could muster. He knew no excuse would suffice for what he left her to endure alone. “Where were you?” She asked in a pleading voice, needing answers.

“They wouldn’t let me see you. Said it was for my privacy and identity security.” Simons voice began to crack, and she began to soften, it was something she’d never seen. “I wanted to run to you, hold you in my arms, apologize for leaving you the way I did. It tore me to shreds knowing you were battling it alone, and it haunted me knowing what I did.”

Simon took in a shaky breath as tears of his own formed. “I dreamed of coming home to you, comforting you. They wouldn’t fucking let me.” His voice went quiet as he cursed his superiors. “If I wouldn’t have been faced with serious consequences, I would’ve broke every rule, but the consequences would’ve set us further apart.”

She stood speechless. She was so lost in this moment, not knowing how to go about Simon this way. From childhood to now, this is the first time she’d ever seen him cry. “Simon…”

“It was my plan to eventually have you find me, I just didn’t think it’d take this long.”

Again, she stood evaluating every movement of his face, the expressions, the way his eyebrows twitched when she met his eyes. She couldn’t deny the pang in her chest, the one of pain. “I know I don’t deserve it, but would you ever grace me with your forgiveness?”

He waited in silence, his nerves tingling with each passing moment. Simon carefully watched as she opened her mouth before hesitating and closing it again. “Simon, it’s been almost 10 years since you faked your death and I got that dreaded phone call. I was only 20 years old with a 2 year old all alone. You should’ve known at the age of 25, that I was too young. I was still a kid myself in ways. You left me to raise a kid when I was barely an adult, the pain I went through at such a young age because I let my childhood best friend give me his last name.”

Simon nodded, agreeing what he did was wrong. “But, when she passed, I felt like I had aged 10 years because I had to mature fast to be a mom raising her child by herself. She was only 4 Si, and she never even got to see her dad, let alone know him. But, in the end, I know what this job can do.”

Her chest raises as she takes in a deep breath. “I know what they can ask of you and how easily it is for the wrong person to know your face, your name. I don’t forgive you right now, but I’m willing to work on it on one condition.”

Simon answered almost too quickly, “Anything.”

[twopoppies]

i’m currently 22, and sometimes i think about when harry was 22 and it kind of shocks me because he was such a man already. 22, 23, and i feel like he’d lived so much, had done so much. i think about where i am in life, who i am, and although i’ve had grown up due to the loss of my parents, i still feel like such a child. i can’t speak for how he felt (or feels), but he gave off such a mature energy already. like you would expect from someone who’s seen a lot of things, done a lot of things. back when i was a kid/teen, the artists i admired (harry included) were, like, in their early twenties, and it felt so unreachable, so far, like they were proper adults. 21 years old felt big, far, adult-like. and now i’m here, and yes, i have matured, but how come harry looked like such a man already when he was only 22. because now that i am 22 i see that i’m only starting, i’m only beginning, and i feel, at heart, like a scared child so much of the time. and he was already such a guy, a grown up. writing songs about sex, and coke, and love, heartbreak. i’ve never experienced any of it. makes me think of all the things he was exposed to, all the things he did, to be at that point when he was still so young. i know people live different lives, but every time i compare myself with 22 year old harry, i’m like, man. the fuck.

LOL! I think you're really among the majority, love. Most people your age might feel grown up when they look back at themselves in high school, for example. But you're really still so incredibly young. Not having experienced the same life as a wildly successful pop star who found love at 16 and by the age of 22 had already recorded 5 albums, toured the world many times over, and made more money than most of us will see in a lifetime, is not really much of a stretch. I mean, I had done a fair bit by that age, but when I look back at myself at 22, I don't think I could have ever handled myself with the charm and grace he did. And I was much more often a scared child than an adult.

Give yourself time. We're not all meant to be Harry Styles. Who you are and where you're at is good. I like to look to people like him as inspiration. I want to be as kind and forgiving. I want to be as open and curious. I want to be as courageous with my creativity. I want to live life fully as I think he does. And we all have our specific journies.

❤️

[shadowdaddies]

can i request dorian flirting with reader and talking her v card??

I found a masquerade mask while looking for a last minute Halloween costume, and the idea for this prompt came to me. So this is sort of Halloween themed💜

A/N: angst, fluff, smut... I really love how this turned out. I hope you do too!

Masquerade

Dorian x Reader

Warnings: smut below the cut, use of shadow hands, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, minors dni

You stepped into the ballroom, taking in the extensive decorations that Adarlan had been adorned with for the Harvest celebration. Each year, the King of Adarlan - who you knew as your close friend, Dorian - held a masquerade ball to celebrate the harvest season. 

It was tradition to masquerade in costume on this night, and at the end of the evening there was a great bonfire to ward off evil spirits. It was a night of mischief, and therefore one of the few royal celebrations that you and Dorian genuinely enjoyed. 

You smiled at the dripping candles that floated above the room alongside carved pumpkins and other harvest decorations, creating a warm and comfortable feeling despite the crowded space. Taking a flute of champagne from a serving tray, you scanned the room in an effort to recognize a familiar face under one of the many masks. There were costumes with inspiration ranging from wyverns to ogres to elves, but your eyes stopped on a striking man donning a mask of feathers, apparently the personification of a raven. 

You looked down at your own costume and laughed. You donned a white shimmering gown that matched your mask, including an olive branch crown that tied together your costume as a dove. When you glanced back up, the raven was already crossing the room towards you, a mischievous grin you knew all too well peeking from beneath his mask.

“Hello, dove,” Dorian purred, winking at you as he brought your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Your heart fluttered at his teasing - while Dorian viewed you as nothing beyond a friend, you held feelings for him for years, his casual flirting your favorite form of torture. He made you feel special, but that was Dorian. He made everyone feel special, and it broke your heart to know you were just one of many. Kings were known for their dalliances, after all.

You smiled politely, giving your best effort to appear unaffected by Dorian’s behavior as you greeted him. “It’s lovely to see you, Dorian. I admire your costume.” A flash of hurt crossed Dorian’s eyes, so quickly that if you didn’t know him so well, you would have missed it. Recovering with a dazzling smile, Dorian teased you. “Lovely to see me? Since when did we become so formal, dove?” he asked as his eyes raked over your own costume. 

You hummed, maintaining your facade of nonchalance as you searched for a way out of the conversation, needing a break from the complicated emotions that were threatening to surface. You scanned the crowd, taking notice of the orchestra preparing to play. Perfect. “Forgive me if I seem too formal, but it appears that the dancing is about to begin for this evening, so I must be off to find myself a dance partner.” You began to turn away from Dorian as you spoke that last part, hoping to make a quick getaway. 

Just as you turned, Dorian gently took hold of your elbow, spinning you back towards him. He took the empty glass from your hand, setting it on a table as he slid his hand down to hold yours. “Perfect. Allow me to be your first dance of the evening?” Dorian asked, in a tone with a  politeness that betrayed the way he had already pulled you to the dance floor. 

He spun you around with a practiced, courtly grace that was as alluring as it was irritating. Mind racing as you thought of ways to distract yourself - focusing on anything you could think of that was unattractive about Dorian, of which nothing came to mind - you huffed out a frustrated breath. Dorian abruptly stopped dancing, pausing to look at you briefly before taking your hand as he led you away from the dance floor. 

He took you outside to a secluded balcony, where he stared at you as he chewed his lip, suddenly looking uncharacteristically nervous. Finally he threw his arms up and asked in an exasperated tone, “would you take off that damn mask so I can see your face? I can tell something is bothering you, and it’s killing me to not be able to read your expression.” 

You nearly stumbled back in shock, completely taken aback by Dorian’s exclamation. “What explanation do I owe you for how I feel, Dorian? Don’t pretend that you actually care - I know there are hundreds of women who would kill for your attention in there. Go dance with one of them and leave me be.” At this point, you couldn’t hold back the tears that spilled, emotions clear even through your mask as Dorian pulled you close to him. 

He removed his mask, gently removing yours and brought his other hand to wipe a tear that had fallen to your cheek. “Oh, dove. There is no other woman with whom I want to dance, tonight or any other. Can’t you see that?” You sniffled, looking up at Dorian as you struggled to understand what he was saying. He could sense your disbelief, brushing your hair behind your ear as he leaned forward so that your noses were nearly touching. “I am aware of my rumored...romances - but I have not been with another woman since I met you. You’ve brought a light to this kingdom that I didn’t realize was missing.” He took a shaky breath, frantically studying your face. “Please tell me you feel the same.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh in relief as you smiled brightly up at Dorian. “You described how I feel perfectly. I’ve had more fun since I met you than I ever have before in my life. I love you, Dorian.” He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you in for a heated kiss that had your knees buckling. Dorian pulled away as he breathed, “I love you too, dove.” 

You bit your lip, running your hand along Dorian’s strong jawline as you found the courage to say what you wanted. “Dorian, I’ve never been with a man before, but will you be my first?” Taking your wrist and kissing the inside of it, Dorian locked eyes with you. “If that is what you want, that is what you shall have, my love.” 

He led you up to his bedroom, closing the door behind you as he pushed you up against it, bunching up your skirts as he kissed down your neck to the exposed area on your chest. You fumbled with his clothes, throwing his jacket somewhere in the room as you hastily unbuttoned his shirt. Dorian spun you around, leaving love bites along your neck and shoulders as he untied the laces of your dress, the silky material dropping to the floor. 

You turned around to see Dorian’s eyes blown wide, sucking in a breath as he took in your naked form. “Beautiful,” he breathed softly. You smiled, gaining confidence as you walked back towards the bed, laying on the mattress and shifted up against the pillows, curling a finger as you beckoned Dorian towards you. He followed eagerly, but instead of climbing on top of you as you’d expected, he stopped to hover above your pussy. 

You mewled as he blew a cool breath against your center, spreading your legs wide. He looked up at you, those sapphire eyes taking your breath away as he asked, “has a man ever worshipped you with his mouth, dove?” You shook your head no, swallowing in a tangle of nerves and excitement as you watched him with awe. Dorian wasted no time, licking a broad stripe up your core, eliciting a loud moan as your back arched off the bed, hips raising in an effort to be touched by him more. 

Dorian didn’t let up on his efforts, licking and sucking your clit as you felt a hand that you could not see pushing down on your stomach, pinning you in place as you tried to writhe against his overwhelming touch. You felt a coil in your stomach tighten as Dorian inserted a finger inside of you, curling against you in a way you hadn’t felt before, and you screamed as your walls fluttered around his finger. 

Dorian pulled back, a cocky grin on his face as he sucked his finger clean. His expression turned serious for a moment as he reached for the ties of his pants. “Are you sure that you want to do this tonight, dove?” You nodded, pulling Dorian up towards you as you began untying his pants for him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you said, kissing him softly as you tasted yourself on his lips. 

He shuffled his pants off the rest of the way, lining himself up at your entrance as you took his face in your hands, smiling up at him with clear eyes full of adoration. With a slight nod from you, Dorian pushed himself into you slowly, savoring the sound of your moan as he stretched your walls. He moved softly and slowly, making love to you as you gasped and moaned at the new sensations.

Dorian continued his thrusts, finding a spot that felt incredible as you chanted his name, that coil in your stomach tightening once more as you felt yourself clench around him. Dorian felt it too, an invisible hand surprising you by rubbing soft circles on your clit. The startling sensation sent you over the edge again, Dorian following closely behind as the two of your reached your highs. 

You stayed there, laying next to each other as you registered everything that had happened that night. Dorian turned to lay facing you, tracing his hand along your face and body as he admired you. 

You suddenly laughed, a look of confusion crossing Dorian’s face as he asked, “what is it, dove?” You giggled once more, “well, if the bonfire didn’t scare away the spirits, I’m sure my screams did.”

He laughed with you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms, assured that this was truly the most magical night of the year.

[tex-now]

I think my interpretation of what mephone4's recovery would look like shifts a little depending on how old he is. Like, not by much, but by a little bit.

This is basically just me rambling about mephone4 during/post-canon. I love mephone4 he makes me ill so I want to ramble. Let me have this.

If mephone4 is an adult I think that putting more responsibility on his actions than if he was a child is necessary.

He is an abuse victim, he was scared, unsure, desperately trying to escape his abusive father and became extremely jaded (?) and traumatized because of it, BUT he still put a lot of mental turmoil on his contestants, and traumatized many of them in turn. He still hurt so many of them so badly and that is inexcusable (he is aware of this).

Hes emotionally constipated and repressed to a fault and is by no means a bad person but like. Tissues. Suitcase. Taco. Bow. Any of the contestants that wouldn't forgive him are completely valid to do so, and it's HIS responsibility to improve himself and his behavior so that, if he ends up meeting them again, he doesn't repeat the previous patterns he has in the past.

His general veneer of cockiness, apathy, and being kind of an asshole to his contestants, his showing bias and unfair inconsistent challenges, being generally dismissive of his contestants feelings, are all things he did. I do think it's a result of having cobs as a father and all the trauma he's experienced as a result of that, buuuuuut he needs to work on himself and only he can fix his bad behavior (with the support of family and hopefully a therapist).

Which is why I think mephone4's apology was extremely needed and I am SO FUCKING GLAD that they were like "yeah mephone4 fucked up. He should give everyone space to grow into new people and so that he can also grow and finally do something for himself so that he can be truly happy instead of just living on the high of escapism and and projecting his issues and problems onto his contestants." (<- all of this is said lovingly. I promise I love him so much. nomming on him).

He absolutely needs a loving support system and also 10 years of therapy and he's already on the right track :) he needs to learn to hold himself accountable for his actions (which he is starting to I'm so proud), and how to effectively communicate his feelings along with not taking them out on others and that takes time, but I believe in him I love him so muchhhh hic hic sob.

If mephone4 is a child then his situation is 10x more tragic oh my god. You can definitely acknowledge that his actions were fucked up on several levels, but him being an abuse victim (which definitely hindered his emotional development) PLUS literally most likely not physically mature enough to process his own feelings and the actual implications of what he's done to his contestants then, yeah, I would give him more grace.

(I'm pretty sure this also applies to if he was an adult but yeah), I can't speak for everyone, but a common defense mechanism ive noticed in young people around me (and myself personally) is apathy and indifference towards everything, even topics that would typically be upsetting or uncomfortable to talk about.

Instead of dealing with your emotions or the pain you cause other people, you laugh it off and avoid it for as long as you can, and usually when you can't avoid it anymore, you become defensive and anxious. (Once again. In my experience. And from what I've seen from other people. Avoidance instead of acceptance).

Of course, this doesn't mean that the contestants would be evil for not understanding or not forgiving him. What he did was fucked up, and children also need to take responsibility for their actions as it is a crucial part of their emotional development.

But he's still a child. The things he would need to work on would not be things he could do on his own. He needs someone to take care of him and help him.

Not any of the contestants, definitely, but someone to take him in and show him the unconditional parental love he never got to have. It's less on him to deal with his shit (even though it's still on him to an extent) and moreso about having someone to help him fix his behavior less so by like personal self reflection on his own (too young for that) and moreso by being shown the right behaviors and having a safe person to tell him when he's wrong who will still provide unconditional love to him and help him reflect on his behavior. (Like like ballpoint pen 🥺🥺)

Anyway I love mephone4. Idk I just wanted to ramble this has no real point. Lol

[ask-postcrash-curly]

Hello again, sweet pea. Kind Words. ♡

I don't know if you are aware, but here on Earth it is Valentine's Day today. I am sure you could have guessed, but I am an awfully sentimental person - so a day celebrating love in all of its forms is, of course, one of my favorite holidays. I cannot help but be in high spirits. Yes, even though...!

Well... I am sure he is just busy, is all. So busy-busy, like a little bee. Uh - I called my son earlier and he... did not answer. Again. He has not answered any of my calls in... a while. But I am aware that higher education can be demanding, of course. Of course! And he has his friends, and his girlfriend (who is a very lovely young lady), and does not always have the time for dear old Mom anymore. It's natural for a bird to leave the nest one day, yes? Of course. Still...

I remember when Kestrel was still a boy. My mom and I would always make an event out of today. We would wake up and have a lovely little breakfast together, and make a mess of the kitchen all the while. Afterwards, we would get dressed and head to the local shops to pick out discounted sweets; assorted chocolate boxes were my favorites, while my mom preferred miniature pastries, and Kestrel adored sour rock candy the most. Once the shopping was finished, Mom would treat us all to lunch, and when we returned home we would curl up together with our treats and watch a movie. Picks varied between Mom and Kestrel, but my turn always guaranteed The Wizard of Oz. (A childhood favorite of mine that I never stopped watching. Bless Mom's patience.)

I... I really miss those days. They seem so close, and yet so far away now. Did you ever have anything like that?

I still carry out the tradition myself each year... I just cannot bring myself not to. I have my pancakes with extra fruit and whipped cream. I buy my assorted chocolates, a small pastry, and a sour rock candy that I give to my neighbor's daughter instead. (Yes, the same girl with the golden lab pup now called Curly. I see them playing together outside often.) I eat lunch outdoors and listen to the birds singing their sweet little love songs to one another. And then I head home and get cozy with my snacks and a mug of tea to watch The Wizard of Oz again. That is where I am now, dear. I feel a bit drowsy, to tell you the truth. I have not been sleeping well as of late.

But I am still glad. Because this year, at least... I have you. And... you have us, yes? You have me. I am... terribly sorry that you cannot spend the time with your real family. I understand... how much you miss them. And I would give anything to be able to send you all back home again. It won't do much to make up for it, but perhaps we could... also watch the movie together. If you would like. It is the least I can offer. (I would share my chocolates, too, if I could. But not the orange cream ones. Those are all mine, dear. ♡)

And... well! I am sure I must sound like a broken record by now, but just humor me again for today, pumpkin. I know that I am not... your real mother. But I still love you like my own. I don't think I could ever go back to thinking of myself as a mother of one. And I do dread the day that you might fly away from me too, like my little Kestrel. But if it means your health, your safety, and your happy future, then I will take it with grace over all else. And I would keep you in my heart, always. No matter where you may end up next.

... !

Forgive me, I am getting a bit choked up. I will make it! Nothing a bit of chocolate won't fix. Oh, and of course - tell all of your little darlings that Grandmama loves them, too! Every single one!! ♡♡♡

[ Watch The Wizard of Oz (1939)? ]

Hello again. Good to hear from you.

Yeah, a few of the others mentioned it to me. Happy Valentine's to you! Hah.

Hm? I didn't know you had a son. Guess that was who you were talking about when I overheard you before, yeah? You're right that college can be busy. Lots to do, always. He should be returning your calls though. That's not something to take for granted.

That sounds like a very nice time. Kestrel's got good taste. Sour candy's just better. Heheh. (Hey, I love Oz. Great taste for you too!)

I know what you mean. What I wouldn't give to be home... Never had anything quite like that, but we had plenty of our own traditions. We'd make these flourless banana pancakes every Passover. My parents didn't like them, but Lise and I loved them. We'd ask for them all the time. But I guess the recipe was a little annoying to make, so outside of the holiday we'd usually be denied. I still have them sometimes when I'm visiting with my parents.

Mm. Traditions can be like that. When it's right, it's right, yeah? (Awww.) Birds are nice. The window screens have bird audios on them, but they really don't sound the same. Coziness... is also nice. I'm sorry you're not sleeping well. I know all too well how that is. (Hope it's not because of me. Sorry if it is.)

Glad I could help. And I'm glad to have you. I'm sorry you can't be with your real family either... You're right that we at least have each other though, yeah? Thank you. I wish we were home, too. Hey, I'd love to watch the movie! It's among my secret favorites, you know. (Haha. That's okay. Maybe this can tide the Curlings over so they quit pestering me for food?)

Hey, hey, you don't sound like a broken anything. Always glad to hear your voice. I told you over and over, yeah? ...Mhm. And I know I'm not your real son. But I find myself loving you too. I feel like I've known you much longer than I have... I don't plan on "flying away" from you, but whatever the future holds regarding me and all of you is, well, uncertain. I'd like to make promises here, but I can't. If we do eventually lose this connection, I think I'll miss you most of all. Maybe we'll meet again someday? It could happen. You never know.

Oh— don't you worry, that's okay. I'm... glad to know how much you care. Haha. Unofficial children, if you're listening, Grandmama sends her love!

Now. Movie time. A very serious occasion. I love this movie. Kinda does feel like we're watching it together, even so far apart...

[crisisthegirl]

What if Orpheus had just kept going, no looking back? ; Kevjean lyrics part 2

Jean, Kevin, Both

Atlantis - Noah Gundersen, Phoebe Bridgers

If I was Atlantis and you were the sea

I'd sneak up behind you and break your knees

I'd cut off your fingers and both of your feet

So you couldn't reach me, but you couldn't leave

If I was a painter, if I was brave

I'd hang up a canvas and give it a name

I'd call it the future and just leave it blank

Get high off the fumes and die in the paint

It's overdramatic, yeah, I know

Somebody cast me in a TV show

Where I play an addict, a drunken romantic

Always reaching for another drink

-

Wipe all the makeup off of your face

We can turn off the lights if it makes you feel safe

I learned about love in American cars

A rusted-out frame and a lot of spare parts

But there in the backseat, freezing cold

Just barely seventeen years old

I saw the dragon and I gave chase

A perfect example of a hopeless case

And every doctor that drew my blood

Could find no explanation

Maybe it's a virus, maybe it's love

Or just my imagination

If I was Atlantis and you were the sea

I'd sneak up behind you and set you free

I know the end - Phoebe Bridgers

But you had to go

I know, I know, I know

Like a wave that crashed and melted on the shore

Not even the burnouts are out here anymore

And you had to go

I know, I know, I know

-

I gotta go

I know, I know, I know

When the sirens sound, you'll hide under the floor

But I'm not gonna go down with my hometown in a tornado

I'm gonna chase it

I know, I know, I know

I gotta go now

I know, I know,

I know

—

Either way, we're not alone

I'll find a new place to be from

Please stay - Lucy Dacus

You tell me you love me, like it'll be the last time

Like you're playing out, the end of a storyline

I say I love you too, because it's true

What else am I supposed to do?

Maybe bar the door when you move to leave

I think you mean what you say

When you say you wanna die

I think you mean what you say

When you say you want to stay alive

-

Break a vow, make a new one

Call me if you need a friend, or never talk to me again

But please stay

But please stay

Motion Sickness - Phoebe Bridgers

I hate you for what you did

And i miss you like a little kid

-

I have emotional motion sickness

Somebody roll the windows down

There are no words in the English language

I could scream to drown you out

-

I'm on the outside lookin' through

You're throwin' rocks around your room

And while you're bleeding on your back in the glass

I'll be glad that I made it out

And sorry that it all went down like it did

Break - Alex G

Taking hits for you

'Cause I wanna feel like I'm supposed to

I could disappear

If this is what makes me feel so real

And I’ll break for you baby

‘Cause you make it feel so good

-

Hold me down

And maybe I'll quit if you stick around

Keep quiet

It's the only place I know, but it's my favourite

And I'm sick for you (baby)

And it's never gonna go away

My tears ricochet - Taylor Swift

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe

All the hell you gave me?

‘Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you

‘Til my dying day

I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace

-

I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace

‘Cause when I’d fight you used to tell me I was brave

-

And I can go anywhere I want

Anywhere I want just not home

And you can aim for my heart go for blood

But you would still miss me in your arms

And I still talk to you (when I’m screaming at the sky)

And when you can’t sleep at night (you’ll hear my stolen lullabies)

Coney Island - Taylor Swift

Break my soul in two

Looking for you but you’re right here

If I can’t relate to you anymore

Then who am i related to?

And if this is the long haul

How’d we get here so soon?

Did I close my fist around something delicate?

Did I shatter you?

-

The question pounds my head

What’s a lifetime of achievement?

if I pushed you to the edge

But you were too polite to leave me?

-

Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?

‘Cause we were like the mall before the internet

It was the one place to be

-

Were you waiting at our old spot

In the tree line, by the gold clock?

Did i leave you hanging every single day?

Where you standing in the hallway with a big cake?

Happy birthday

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey?

A universe away

And when I got into the accident

The sight that flashed before me was your face

But when I walked up to the podium

I think that I forgot to say your name

So long, London - Taylor Swift

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

My spine split from carrying us up the hill

Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill

I stopped trying to make him laugh

Stopped trying to drill the safe

Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

Oh, the tragedy ...

-

Stitches undone

Two graves, one gun

I'll find someone ...

-

And you say I abandoned the ship

But I was going down with it

My white knuckle dying grip

Holding tight to your quiet resentment and

My friends said it isn't right to be scared

-

Every breath feels like rarest air

When you're not sure if he wants to be there

So how much sad did you think I had,

Did you think I had in me?

How much tragedy?

-

Just how low did you think I'd go?

Before I'd self-implode

Before I'd have to go be free

-

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waiting for the proof

You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days

And I'm just getting color back into my face

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place

For so long

-

Had a good run

A moment of warm sun

But I'm not the one

So long, London

Stitches undone

Two graves, one gun

You'll find someone ...

Waiting Room - Phoebe Bridgers

If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor

I would sit there with my first-aid kit and bleed

I wanna be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus, I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better

-

And when broken bodies are washed ashore

Who am I to ask for more, more, more?

But you're breathing in my open mouth

You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

-

I know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

(No, it’s for the better)

Francis Forever - Mitski

I don’t know what to do without you

I don’t know where to put my hands

I’ve been trying to lay my head down

But I’m writing this at 3 a.m.

I don’t need the world to see

That I’ve been the best I can be

But I don’t think I could stand to be

Where you don’t see me

-

On sunny days I go out walking

I end up on a tree lined street

I look up at the gaps of sunlight

I miss you more than anything

First love/Late spring - Mitski

The black hole of the window where you sleep

-

So please, hurry, leave me I can’t breathe

Please don’t say you love me

胸がはち切れそうで

One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby

Tell me “don’t”, so I can crawl back in

-

And I was so young when I behaved 25

Yet now I find I’ve grown into a tall child

And I don’t wanna go home

Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

-

胸がはち切れそうで

Evermore - Taylor Swift

And when I was shipwrecked (can't think of all the cost)

I thought of you (all the things that will be lost now)

In the cracks of light (can we just get a pause?)

I dreamed of you (to be certain we'll be tall again)

(If you think of all the costs)

It was real enough (whether weather be the frost)

To get me through (or the violence of the dog days)

(Out on waves being tossed)

But I swear (is there a line that we could just go cross?)

You were there

The frost - mitski

After everyone’s long been gone

But me, I was hiding

Or forgotten, the only one left

Now the world is mine alone

With no one, no one

To share the memory of frost

Out the window this morning

After you’re gone

-

You’re my best friend

Now I’ve no one to tell

How I lost my best friend

-

The frost, it looks

Like we’ve been left in the attic

But you’re not there to see

It’s just

Witness-less me

Two birds - Regina Spektor

Two birds on a wire

One says, "C'mon" and the other says, "I'm tired"

The sky is overcast and I'm sorry (oh-oh-oh)

One more or one less

Nobody's worried

-

Two birds on a wire

One tries to fly away and the other

The exit - Conan Gray

February, and the flowers haven't even wilted

It's crazy how fast you tilted

The world that we were busy buildin'

-

Feels like we had matching wounds

But mine's still black and bruised

And yours is perfectly fine now

Feels like we buried alive

Something that never died

So, God, it hurt when I found out

You love her (him), it’s over

You already found someone to miss

-

I can't hate you for gettin' everything we wanted

I just thought that I would be part of it

-

Impossible to understand how you're not comin' back

But I can't say it out loud

-

You already found someone to miss

While I'm still standin' at the exit

(I'm still standin' at the exit)

[colormepurplex2]

Did It Hurt? | Prologue: The Fall

↳ FallenAngel!Taehyung x LostSoul!f.Reader ⤜ Fallen Angel AU, Strangers to Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 880 ⚠️ Violence, injury, judgement and punishment

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Taehyung, Sometime around the end of the 20th century, in the Divine Chamber of Justice, Heaven

“Why are we even bothering with this trial?” Phanuel asks, crossing his arms and giving his Brother a pitying look. “Is it fair to hold ourselves to a higher standard than the ones we protect?”

Amitiel harrumphs softly. “Of course we are to hold ourselves to a higher standard. We are Divine Protectors of the Heavens, pointedly above those we protect.”

“I think what Phanuel is trying to say,” comments Mitzrael, “is that there is nothing in the Doctrine about what Brother Taehyung did being unforgivable. If those we protect can be forgiven through Grace, shouldn’t we afford our Brother that same Grace?”

“I say we hand him over to our Fallen Brothers in Hell,” mutters Kushiel, ever the rigid purveyor of punishment.

Gabriel shifts where he sits at the pinnacle of the Judgement dias. “The spilling of one’s Holy Seed is different from that of a mortal’s seed. We all are aware of this. The creation of Nephilim has been strictly forbidden since the fall of Lucifer. Therefore, the act that can potentially create such a monstrosity should be punished to the fullest extent. After all, Taehyung may not have created a Nephilim, but to even act in pleasures of the flesh where that is a possibility is worthy enough of our ire. Imagine the destruction he would have wrought, untold devastation.”

There is a quiet murmur around the chamber, soft echoes of fear and agreement, Sarathiel loudest of them all.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Brother Taehyung?” Zadkiel asks, speaking over the hushed clamor.

Taehyung prostrates himself before his gathered Brothers, pressing his forehead to the smooth surface of the floor, wings splayed out behind him. Holding the position for a few precious moments, he gathers his thoughts before looking up and meeting all their gazes one by one until he’s focused on Gabriel. His Brother might not be the Angel of Judgement, but he’s the Leader of all Angels, which Taehyung knows holds far more sway over all the others than anyone else; he’s a leader for a reason.

“Brothers,” he begins, “I would not ask for forgiveness for such an unforgivable act. As Brother Gabriel has stated, what I did was careless, not just to myself but to all others. I endangered all that we hold Divine and Holy here. I endangered our home. But I would ask for your leniency, your guidance and deliverance. Treat me as one of the flock. Let me seek righteousness and serve a penance for my disgrace. Do not cast me into oblivion. Let me prove myself worthy.”

“We shall take that into consideration.” Sarathiel eyes Taehyung with a cold appraisal. Fear and pain burn hot in Taehyung’s chest. The few stolen moments he sought with–he can’t even think of their name without wanting to wail in mourning–have proven to be what might be his downfall; literally.

The Counsel gathers, cloistering themselves behind a hazy wall of silence. All Taehyung can do is watch them, trying to discern what words lips are forming and what the emotions flashing across his Brothers’ faces mean. Gabriel and Sarathiel seem to be leading the conversation. He can only hope they both remember their love for him in their hearts.

It could be hours, or just minutes, before the shield falls and noise eases back into the chamber, sounding far too loud after the silence. Taehyung thinks he might sickup on the floor if that’s even something Angels can do; he’s seemingly forgotten how to function at all.

The Angel of Justice, his Brother, Raquel, steps forward and gives Taehyung a sad, soft smile before beginning, “It is with heavy hearts that we, the Council of Grace and Purity, hereby sentence you, Brother Taehyung, to one hundred years of exile for breaking your Oath of Holy Divinity by seeking pleasures of the flesh and spilling Holy Seed. At the end of your one hundred years, if and only if you have found a soul seeking absolution and deliver them unto a path of justice and redemption, will you be granted back within the sanctity of this Kingdom and your wings restored. If you fail in your penance, you will feel the wrath of Divine Smite. May the Lord have mercy on your everlasting soul.”

Always so regal and poised, Michael steps forward, the tip of his great sword trailing just a breath above the floor. Taehyung couldn’t bear to look his brother in the eye for fear of seeing the disappointment there.

“Let it be known,” Michael whispers over Taehyung’s bowed head, “I take no pleasure in this, Brother.” With one felling sweep of Michael’s blade, Taehyung is rendered incomplete, severed from his proper form. White feathers fill the air, softening the cry that rips itself from Taehyung’s throat.

His Brothers watch as he plummets from the Heavens, entering a fiery free fall into an existence none of them envy. If only he had the Grace to keep his hands to himself. Though not all Angels are meant for the Heavens, that much is clear. They can only hope Taehyung finds his way once again, or Lucifer damn him, they’ll lose another to the darkness.

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◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-01-26 ColorMePurplex2

[heart76stars]

The court between two worlds — Oikawa Toru

cw: crackfic/angstfic, death mention, slight injury detail, emotional distress, slight spoilers for season 2 of haikyuu, oikawa pov

We never made it to nationals but after the tournament, Karasuno invited us for a practice game. God, like I’d want to see them.. yet being the captain of our team I decided I would grace my dear underclassmen with one more game before I leave the club … and show Kageyama and his little weapon who is boss once and for all.

Once the Karasuno volleyball club arrive at our school they begin to warm up. Idiot four-eyes practicing his blocks against his teams spikers before our game starts. There’s nothing shocking anymore about the two first years quick attack, Kageyama sets the ball with incredible skill and the squirt kills it with all his might and strength. They practice it over and over again, almost obsessively. It was starting to get under my skin at how they thought that stupid attack could get the best of me.

I thought to practice my serves myself to give them a fright before they go to nationals and as I walked over to grab myself a ball, I get hit in the face by Hinata’s quick attack.

I’m on the ground bleeding out, blood gushing from my nose. I see squirt and Kageyama on top of me, Hinata apologising profusely and Kageyama cursing at him, calling him a moron. The rest of my team and Karasuno clamour around at the sight of me on the floor and it’s not long before I pass out.

I hear the people quietly murmuring in the room as I sleep, “Your son, Toru, doesn’t have much longer to live” I hear someone whisper. I hear my mother sobbing, and I want to tell her I’ll be alright, but I can’t move.

I open my eyes one last time, expecting to tell my mother goodbye before I go. But instead, I see a tall, looming, built figure wearing a purple and white volleyball kit instead. He holds a bouquet and leaves it by my bedside.

“You should have come to Shiratorizawa” he says morbidly, and tears fill my eyes. Maybe Ushiwaka was right; but it’s too late now. He walks out the room and leaves me alone to die.

Author notes: this is actually my first time writing fanfiction so please be kind to me. i hope you enjoyed this post!

… originally this was meant to be a crackfic where oikawa was injured and close to death and instead of getting support from anyone, his biggest opp appears from nowhere to tell him he should have come to shiratorizawa, and then leaves him to die. i realise my execution was sort of bad however, as this turned out to be a little more angsty than expected so forgive me 😓 or maybe i’m just a sadist haha

[nebulablakemurphy]

Twenty Questions (Part 4)

Summary: For Y/N’s 20th birthday Haymitch gifts her 20 questions, that he has to answer honestly, no matter what. Mentions of sex/forced pregnancy. Moves & Countermoves companion piece.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“How many…do you think?”

“Hmm?” Haymitch hums, eyeing his wife.

“Kids.” Y/N clears her throat, “how many kids do you think Snow will make us have?”

“I’d say one of each. A boy and a girl will keep the people entertained. If the next one is a boy, I think we’ll have to try again for a girl. Assuming we stay in his good graces, we’ll probably be done after that.” Haymitch shrugs a shoulder.

“I don’t know what else we can do.” Y/N rubs her hands together anxiously.

“There’s nothing else, Angel.” Haymitch sighs, “we just have to ride this out.”

Y/N nods, rubbing the swell of her belly. She’s five months along, over half way.

“Did you want,” Haymitch stumbles over the words. “How many do you want?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder. “I think being an only child might be lonely for him.” Him. Their baby. Because it isn’t about them anymore, it never will be again. “Two would be good.”

“Two would be good,” Haymitch agrees.

————————————————————————

Haymitch drinks more than he ever has.

Y/N’s belly grows. She’s tired all the time. She snaps at Haymitch and then chases after him with tears in her eyes, begging for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, I’m… I know I’m awful. I’m trying to do better.”

“You’re not awful,” Haymitch grumbles. “I’m trying too.”

“But you are! You are doing better and I’m…I feel like everyday I get worse. That’s the difference and I’m frustrated with myself. I’m frustrated at the situation and I don’t know what to do. You’re the only person here with me all the time, so you get the brunt of everything. And I know it’s not fair to you. I know you hate me for it.” How could you not?

“I need you to know that I do not hate you. I could never hate you. I see how hard this pregnancy and marriage has been for you. I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart, if I could change it for you, I would. But I can’t.” Haymitch admits, “I can’t and it kills me.”

“It’s not hard being married to you,” she breaks off. “I’d never given a lot of thought to marriage. I didn’t necessarily want to be married. But doing it with you is easy, being with you is easy and I feel safe when I’m with you.”

“Tell me what’s wrong then, Angel. Tell me what I can do to help you. Anything you need. You just gotta give me some fucking direction here, because I am drowning in this.”

“I don’t know what I need. I feel restless all the time. I can’t sleep. I’m-”

“You’re afraid.” Haymitch gets it.

“Just…just tell me that everything’s gonna be ok.”

“It is gonna be ok. I promise.”

She closes the distance between them, relaxing into the feel of his arms around her. Holding her close, making everything ok.

————————————————————————

Things are better after that.

“Everything’s gonna be ok.”

He tells her every morning and again at night.

They decorate the nursery, they give him a name. Everest. Everest Abernathy.

By the time they mentor the games that year, Y/N is eight months along. They’ve agreed to stay in the Capitol, until the baby is born.

“You’ll have access to the best medicine known to man in our hospitals, Y/N. The same cannot be said for District Twelve.” President Snow makes her an offer that sounds more like a threat. In any event, she can’t refuse.

Their chances for a victor this year are slim to none. The female tribute is fifteen, but Y/N can spot every bone in her body. The boy isn’t much better, and only twelve.

Y/N weeps for them until she vomits. Only when she is alone, jotting notes in her tablet. She remains strong in their presence, focused. Knowing Haymitch won’t offer much help. He stopped trying and she doesn’t blame him.

She might give up too, if it didn’t mean leaving the poor tributes to fend for themselves.

It makes no difference though, both go down in the initial bloodbath. She mourns them alone, while Haymitch drowns his sorrows down at the bar.

And time passes, the same way it always has. Too fast or too slow.

Part 5