#and it isn't that life isn't worth it without him

[asocial-lobster]

What We Leave Behind

Everyone leaves something behind. Sky knows this better than most. He has left eight amazing brothers behind in favor of going home to his own era.

Or perhaps it was them who left him?

There is a vacuum in his life. A certain chill to the air in his lungs, unspoken jokes bubbling painfully in his chest. Sky has known a lot of grief in his short life, and he recognizes this feeling for what it is: love turned lonely.

His brothers have not just left emptiness behind, though. It is Zelda who points it out first: Sky has begun wearing his sailcloth like Warriors carries his scarf. He scratches his neck like Hyrule when he is nervous, and his words are thoughtful and mature like Time's. His snarky wit has become more pronounced, honed from months in Legend's company. When he cooks, his fingers expertly find the correct spices without thinking.

Sky's brothers have left a gaping hole in his heart, but they have also left a thousand small habits and gestures. Like driftwood, they keep Sky afloat as he grieves. And if he sometimes cries when a memory of his brothers rises to the surface, then what of it? He is not ashamed to have loved and lost.

So Sky writes down everything he remembers about his brothers and clings to it, remembers. He wonders if he has left a lifetime of odd habits and joys with them, too. 

XXX

Four is a scholar, and he takes pride in that fact. He is a scholar and a blacksmith and an adventurer, a husband and an uncle. A brother. Four has always been good at filling his life with meaning. 

There are many people Four loves, many of whom he'll never see again. Still, he holds that love securely in every part of his tattered soul; it fills him, keeps his life worth living. He thinks of them often and must reconcile with the fact that he won't ever know what became of them.

All except one.

He has only been home for a year, when the need to know what became of Sky gets too strong to handle. Four is a scholar. He knows how to search for old myths and half-forgotten tales. Four is an adventurer. He knows how to carry himself with confidence on the roads, how to avoid danger and how to escape alive when the danger can no longer be avoided. Four is a brother. He knows how to mourn someone who isn't dead, just out of reach.

It is on this adventure that Four meets Aaron. Aaron is a scholar like Four, but also a baker and a petter of cats and a kind soul. Aaron's soul is whole and unblemished unlike Four's, but he doesn't mind. He is not a brother. He is both something more and something less, because Four knows that brotherly love and romantic love are entirely different things. It's not less, not more. It's just different.

Aaron follows when Four keeps travelling. Hand in hand, they scour the small towns for clues. They flip through old, dusty books and sneeze when it tickles their noses. Aaron makes hot cocoa and apple pie for Four's late-night studies.

Hundreds of years have passed since Sky's era, but Four finds what he is looking for at long last. It is not much, just a few lines in a grimy tome about the first rulers of Hyrule. King Link and Queen Zelda who descended from the heavens. According to the tome, they had two children. Only the oldest, Dinah, is mentioned by name.

Four leans into Aaron's embrace and smiles. He always expected something like that from Sky's future - they all did, really. Sky knew his place in the world long before he met the Chain.

Out of all of them, Sky has changed the world the most. The first hero, the first king. Four wonders if Sky knows just how many good things he has left in his wake.

XXX

Time's life on Lon Lon Ranch is uneventful compared to his adventures but never boring. He likes how small his life is these days. He is allowed to care only about those closest to him instead of the whole kingdom. It is nice to walk into the barn in the morning and know that the horses and cows are dependent on him to feed them, not to save the world.

At night, Malon's body is warm against his, a comfort he has been sorely lacking during his last adventure. Her hair tickles his cheek, but he doesn't brush it away. After so long apart, he cherishes the moments when they are close.

He misses the boys often. Not as they were on their adventure, high-strung and anxious, but as they were during their breaks and on Lon Lon Ranch. He misses Warriors' jokes and Legend's sarcastic remarks. The sailor was always so full of energy, mouth running faster than his mind – an impressive feat, given Wind's intelligence. Twilight was quieter, but no less funny or mischievous than the others. 

Time misses them, and in his ideal world, they would all be living on the ranch with him, Malon, and Talon. But the boys have their own lives in their own eras.

Time doesn't go looking for stories about the others. Only Sky and Four come before him in the timeline, and he feels fairly certain they have led happy lives. Sky had both Sun and Groose waiting for him at home, and the skyloftian was mature and kind. He will build a life for himself, Time is sure of it.

Four was well-balanced, a man in tune with his emotions. He had Dot and his grandfather. Four has adapted to sudden changes before, Time knows. He will adapt to this, too.

The person Time longs to see again the most is Warriors. Not because he loves him more than the others, but because he is worried about the captain. Warriors has been through so much already, and he was depressed when they parted. Time can't stand the thought that he'll never know if Warriors fought his way out of depression and into the happy life he deserved.

His adventure with the Chain has left Time with many happy memories, but it has also left a nagging worry in the back of his mind which he fears will never disappear.

XXX

Legend has spent a lifetime searching for weapons and items and answers to a thousand problems. He has fought and bled for a kingdom which never held any particular fondness for him - a prince in a line of princesses and queens. Still, Legend has risked his life many, many times on adventures.

What is a few more?

This time, it is not adventures of Hylia's kind. There is no returning king of evil, no nefarious lizards or scheming mages. There is only Legend's desperate wish to reconnect with the brothers he has left behind.

He finds old, forgotten dungeons filled with treasure. Most of it has nothing to do with his brothers, but some of it has. He finds weapons of Four's making. He even finds a quiet stone chamber with cracked gravestones. The fading text reads:

Her Majesty Queen Zelda Hylia Hyrule

and

His Majesty King Link Hyrule

Legend pays his respects and leaves. Sky deserves a peaceful rest.

The biggest prize he finds is a ratty notebook. It is buried deep within a dungeon, and Legend has no idea how it wound up there. But the title page reads Link in Four's neat handwriting, and that's a miracle in itself.

The small book is filled with sketches of weapons. Comments fill the margins. Some are about the swords' blades, observations on how well the metal folded or how durable they turned out to be.

But some comments are of another kind. Recipes and grocery lists are scattered across the pages. A recipe for apple pie stands out with a small heart next to the A. Legend wonders if maybe it was Four's favorite.

Ravio helps him bake the pie with apples from the tree in their garden. It's a perfect mix of sweet and sour. Almost like life, Legend muses. Happiness is always intertwined with grief. Sweet and sour.

He likes to read the book, again and again, when nightmares chase his sleep away. There really are a lot of recipes in the book. Did Four take up baking? Or did he marry a baker? Legend has no way of knowing, but he likes to speculate. The book lies on his nightstand when he goes to bed.

He writes his own little book, too. Maybe Hyrule will find it someday.

XXX

After a whole year with the Chain, Hyrule's era feels colder than he remembers it. But Hyrule can deal with it. He is used to the cold.

There's still a lot of work to do. Hyrule may have saved the world again, but his kingdom is still healing. The poison from the curse lingers like stains in an old carpet that can't be washed out. 

Hyrule is young. He was even younger when he went on his first adventure, fingers gripping uncertainly around a sword too big for his childish hands. Hyrule's grip is no longer awkward. Now, his fingers curl around the hilt like they were made for it. Maybe they were. 

How young is too young to be Hylia's chosen hero? Some of his brothers were younger yet when they were called by their first adventure.

Hyrule is cold, but he carries a flame in his heart. It is nursed by Wild's steady hands, shielded by Twilight's broad frame. The memories are painful, but Hyrule chases them anyway. They're the only thing he has left of his brothers.

Sometimes the flame is a roaring fire, devouring everything in its path. Other times, it is but a candlelight, barely enough to stave off the cold. He tells Aurora about it one day, and she helps him search the royal archives for old tomes and ancient scripts which may provide him with the closure he yearns for. But the curse has not been kind to old relics, and a lot of information has been lost to time. Legend is mentioned many times in the scripts, saving the kingdom again and again. It does not mention anything about his life after his last adventure. Hyrule hopes this is because Legend settled down to live a quiet life.

The archives do not mention neither Four nor Sky at all.

The flame burns in Hyrule's chest, and sometimes he fears it will devour him, too.

XXX

The deck rocks gently beneath Wind's feet. He rarely spends time on land these days, instead chasing the blue waves and playing tag with the salty sea breeze. He has been on many adventures during his short life, but he is not yet tired of the wonders in this world. The ship is a gateway, it is a magical portal. There is only one place it cannot take him, and that is the one place he most desperately wants to go.

Wind stares into the blue water and wonders what is hidden deep beneath it. Are you out there? He wonders. Has the ocean claimed your bones?

The sea is vast and infinite. Some days, she is kind, other days an angry, roaring beast. Wind's brothers lived in this world once, but the ocean has long since scrubbed the world clean of any remnant of them.

XXX

Twilight does not need to look for clues to know what happened to Time. The Old Man's regrets turned him into a stal, and he only found peace after Twilight met him. It hurts Twilight's heart to know that Time will yet have to suffer so much.

But there are still things to discover, unanswered questions lingering on his tongue.

 Twilight has visited Lon Lon Ranch many times during his adventures in Time's era. The world may have changed since then, but not much. Once he starts looking, it is easy to find his way back there.

He spends an entire day just looking at the ranch from afar. The stable has been painted in a light brown, and the fences have been moved so that the cows have more space. Smoke rises from the chimney.

An old woman sees him hiding in the tree line. She approaches him with a surprising confidence despite her age, demanding to know why he is lurking around on her farm.

The woman's hair is gray save for a few red strands which she has brushed back into a braid. Her eyes are sharp, and her face is lined with dimples and sorrows alike.

At first Twilight can do nothing but stare at her, taking in the embroidered cuffs on her shirt, the apron which covers her skirt. He manages to tell her that his family once lived here. The Lons. He asks if she knows what became of them.

The woman goes still. At first Twilight thinks he might have said something wrong, but then he sees the tears in her eyes.

The woman is his grandmother. She ushers him into a kitchen which feels familiar and wrong at the same time. The dining table is too sturdy. There are more shelves than there shouod be.

She finds cookies and milk – Lon Lon milk – in the pantry and sits him down in a chair. She tells him the story of her daughter and son-in-law who took their little son with them to the market and never came back. She tells him of the boy's brown hair and gentle eyes, of how he answered to the name Link.

She cries as Twilight tells her of his life, and at one point she grabs his hand in hers. Twilight lets her do it and cries a little himself.

The woman's name is Eva. She only had the one daughter, but she has a younger brother who lives in Castletown and a twin sister who lives with her on the ranch. The sister's children live on the ranch too, though they and their mother are out for the day. Twilight has more family out there, and Eva promises to introduce them soon. In turn, Twilight agrees to take her to meet Rusl, Uli, and Colin.

Eva is Time and Malon's daughter. She speaks very fondly of them and listens to Twilight's tales with interest. Unfortunately, Malon passed away a few years ago, and Twilight feels his heart break at the news. Eva is relieved to hear that Time has found rest.

The sky is rapidly darkening outside the windows, and the ranch's other inhabitants come home. They greet him with hugs and teary smiles. Twilight stays for dinner with the family he has never known. There is a lot of lost time to make up for, but that's okay. He is more than willing to put time and effort into getting to know his family.

Twilight knows he will never see Malon or Time again. But they have left him a wonderful family at Lon Lon Ranch which welcomes him with open arms. And though his heart still aches, he has found his peace with that. Twilight sits on the roof of the stable and looks at the setting sun, thinking of the family he has lost and the family he has gained.

XXX

Warriors regrets a lot of things. He regrets being unable to save many a friend during the war. He regrets how distant he has grown to his mama and sisters during a decade of depression and struggles. He regrets a thousand words and moments he wanted to share with his brothers but never got the chance to.

It's odd. Back during the war, he visited many of their homes and met their friends. He didn't know most of his brothers back then and didn't think twice about visiting the unfamiliar eras. But now, as desperate longing swells in his chest, he finds himself confined to his own era. No swirling purple-black portals show up to whisk him away to another time. No familiar blond or brown or pink heads bob into sight from behind a tree, a joke and a friendly smile ready on their lips. No one is there to release a frog onto his pillow or ruffle his hair while he yells indignantly. There is only Warriors and his grief. His heart has been ripped to shreds, and though he is supposedly the field medic, he cannot find it in himself to stitch it back together. To heal feels like betraying everything his brothers mean to him.

So Warriors clings to his memories. He carefully preserves Mask's and Tune's drawings between sheets of glass and hangs them on his walls. He scours the castle archives for information about his predecessors and when he finds little to none, he takes it upon himself to fill the gaps in Hyrule's history. He documents everything he can remember about the others and their adventures. He keeps the more private details of their lives to himself, scratching stories of Hyrule's kindness and Four's levelheadedness onto paper with a crooked quill during the long hours of night. He tries his hand at drawing, and he finds that he rather likes the version of Time which stares back at him from the paper, though he didn't quite manage to capture the mischievous glint of his eye. Still, the drawings are better than nothing, and he doesn't give up before he has all eight of his brothers committed to paper. There are only few things Warriors truly fears, and one of them is forgetting even the tiniest detail about the brothers he has lost.

XXX

Wild leans back against his arms and looks at the kingdom spreading out beneath him. There is no reason for him to visit The Great Plateau anymore, but he likes being there. It is the first home he can truly remember.

There is something magical about the world far beneath him. There was a time when Wild looked at it and only saw his own shortcomings, the ruins covering the landscape like his scars cover his skin. But the wilderness is thriving down there, horses and deer and goats running rampant among lush grass. There is a beauty to it, one which Wild understands better than most.

Besides, Wild has won a newfound interest in old ruins. When he and Zelda aren't busy rebuilding the kingdom, they explore forgotten mysteries and solve ancient puzzles. 

Sometimes they are lucky enough to find an old relic from his brothers' eras. An old stone carving depicting a great battle. A sword. The ruins of Lon Lon Ranch. 

It is crazy to think that these things have survived for so long, just waiting to be rediscovered by Wild's curious eyes. But that is the nature of his brothers, he supposes. Each of them changed the world forever, like ripples spreading across calm water. A seed lying dormant in the ground only to suddenly sprout come spring.

Everyone leaves something behind, Wild has learned. And while he may never see his brothers again, there is a comfort in knowing that the echo of their existence has carried on through thousands of years. His brothers may be gone, but their memories are everywhere. And, Wild thinks as he stares into the endless blue sky, maybe that's enough.

[stopbuggingm3]

An interpretation of Slenderman I love is the idea of him as a stalker, a predator, and a manipulator rather than a powerful or aggressive force. His tendrils and demon face/non-face? Cool as hell. No arguments there. But to me the way he's able to get into people heads and break them from the inside out the way he does is much more terrifying.

He's used force as a means of control before, such as with Kate, Masky, and Hoody, but he also leans heavily into manipulation tactics like he does with Alex, Toby, Cat Hunter, and Bones.

Slender, in my interpretation, manipulates and controls his proxies by taking away their identities and making them dependent on him. This can be seen in each of the proxies. Toby, Kate, Masky, Hoody, Cat Hunter, and Bones (just walk with me here) all had parts of their identities stolen by Slender in one way or another.

In my mind, Masky and Hoody were brought back by Slender/The Operator after the events of Marble Hornets to act as his proxies. Slender saw something in them, whether it be their strength, skill, cunningness, etc, and decided they were too useful to let go to waste. But, as their track records show, this isn't something they'd ever accept willingly, and so had parts of their identities taken when they were brought back to ensure their loyalty to Slender wouldn't slip (why wasn't Alex brought back? idk ask Skully i haven't read the MH comics yet. For now lets blame it on his temper making him too likely to step out of line.)

Kate I'm admittedly undecided on as of right now. Her psyche is definitely damaged, having part's forcefully torn away as a result of Slenders torment, but whether or not her animalistic behaviour is a learnt behaviour in order to cope with what's been done to her or a direct result of Slenders torment is unknown. She won't say, and she won't leave either. That's not an option for her anymore, she knows that much at least.

Cat hunter is a mix of both, in a way. His push to become a proxy was forceful, with Slender physically making him kill his father, but its the blows to his self worth and constant reminder of his actions that cause him to remain as one. Guilt has taken away his self worth, and all he can do is try fill the hole best he can with what he has

Toby had his memories from before his time with Slender removed, taking away any sense of identity he might've had before becoming a proxy and making him dependent on Slenders protection for survival. Where else would he go? He doesn't have anyone else, he's a wanted criminal. And besides, life with Slender is good. He clings to that false sense of freedom without even knowing why he holds it so dear. Why would he ever want to leave?

Bones has had her identity tampered with by Slender since she was young to the point she can't discern what parts of herself are truly herself and what parts were planted there by Slender. She grew up with his voice in her head, convincing her that his words are her own thoughts and that she can't be free unless she is with him. "That violence? That's normal. They don't understand you here, you don't have anyone. You're trapped and alone but I can set you free. Don't you want that?" She doesn't know who or even what she is without him and his "guidance". He's all she knows. He's all she has.

The proxies will never be free. They're going to die out there in those woods at the hands of a monster. And the worst part? Most of them don't even know they're trapped.

[pistol-grippump]

->

Taking it upon myself to actually research into the columbine case has taught me that I really see myself in Dylan. Alas, many people do, but something about him tells me his sadness is my sadness. Something so endearing about the way he felt and how he visualized what he felt that is so strange. It constantly feels like I am the only one who feels this specific type of sad and alone, though I understand it feels like that about many things.

Seeing myself in someone like Dylan Is quite scary, I'd say? I would never go through with things he did, but I can't say the case doesn't have an influence. In total time, I have probably spent more than 7 hours in the last couple days crying and wanting nothing more than to be gone; to have an escape. I don't agree with Dylan and Eric's actions. Of Course, I can find a way to understand but I can admire their suicidal tendencies. I can admire the confidence to have actually taken their own lives.

Of Course though, it was a mix of not wanting to deal with their consequences as well as finding it as the perfect moment, yeah? They had already ruined their lives, he felt as though as Life wasn't worth living. I just want to know if it was fulfilling to him? To Eric? I want to know whether or not it had happened all exactly as they wanted.

It's ashame nobody will know now.

I don't think I could have prepared myself for the recent emptiness I've felt, not so much of a want to have been in Dylan's presence but just so desperate to escape. Maybe it is insensitive but can you blame me for wishing it was me?

Me who they shot? I wouldn't have to do it myself, that's more than enough. And alas, we'd both be dead together after all. A feeling of peace. A chance to genuinely solely understand their thought process.

As someone who is still fairly tame about true crime yet have an insane boundary problem about every case I get infatuated with, I get worried my words will just be seen as surface level fangirling to any of the cases I cling to. And of course this is cringe as well, but I always feel like I have a special sort of understanding towards these people? Not like a, 'i can fix him' way but in a, if I were them, I would illute to the same things.

Obviously their actions are horrible (that goes without saying) but I kind of wish the average person took time to understand that everyone is troubled. I don't believe 'good' people exist in the world. Yes, you can do good acts and you can make good impact, but there are no good people. Perfection isn't possible and I truly feel that the only way to be a good person would be to be perfect.

Everyone is evil. Everyone has faults and hopefully it eats at everyone. I feel like everyone on this planet should feel a sense of hopelessness to an extent; you don't know what it's like to be dead. You don't know if your actions here have genuine consequences when you're dead and gone. You don't know anything, neither do I. Neither did Eric and Dylan, neither did anyone who did similar acts. Nobody here knows anything. Nobody knows anything about anything and I wish we as a whole could accept that.

It bleeds into religion for me. I have never had faith or anything despite being brought up Christian. It was one of those things that have always just been fantasy to me. The concept of the Bible is so warped, inconsistent, unrealistic. It doesn't seem justifiable under any circumstance to me, good for anyone who can see it in the light but I don't think I could ever think that. There is something so false about any concept of any god or afterlife.

It's frustrating though because I know I don't truly think that. I think there is some sort of after life, whether it's reincarnation or infinite nothingness for those who died. I just don't think my - or anyones - actions right now have any impact when it's all said and done.

[mizuki-foreshadowing]

Mizuki surrounds herself in mystery, but I feel like there's a comparable amount of mystery surrounding Ena.

There isn't even an implied reason for why she's a social outcast;

Kanade is basically a ghost in every detail of her lifestyle, she doesn't leave the house, she isn't even able to keep it clean or livable without Honami, who's also the only reason she eats things other than instant noodles or nutrient bars, and aside from taking genuinely good care of her hair, she's really barely alive; Mafuyu sacrficed her sense of self and the significance to herself of the way she feels about things to her mothers expectations of the perfect overachiever prep school daughter and it's slowly (and quickly) killing her; and Mizuki's taking on the world alone (alone by choice mind you) as potentially the only trans girl she even knows about, trading a persona who's bitter and miserable from constantly getting burned for liking cute things, for one who embraces loving cute things at the expense of emotionally shutting out literally everybody, since she can't be burned if she never lets herself get emotionally vulnerable.

But with Ena, I'm not sure why. Not even that I simply don't know yet, I don't know what I'm supposed to think the reason is.

There is definitely something to be said for Ena's temper. She blows up at Mafuyu in the Main Story over, to her, squandering talent that Ena can't hope to know herself, for self-important reasons such as being saved or one's true self, and Airi talks about Ena's history with her temper to Mizuki in What's On Your Mind - Exciting Picnic (episode 4), how it was even the reason they first became friends. And a great many of Ena's very finest moments open with her telling someone to shut up. Almost certainly, the only reason Mizuki didn't get an earful on that rooftop in What Lies Behind - What Lies Ahead is because Meiko told Ena she needs to hold back and understand that she simply doesn't have the full story. All of this in addition to how, in her first focus, she backed herself into a corner staking her sense of worth as an artist on a contest submission over how heated a fight with her dad had got; the letter that she was not even considered for that contest wouldn't have devastated her if her dad didn't know she entered.

Obviously, there's her relationship with her dad, which is definitely where her (and Akito's) anger issues come from. Him telling her in no uncertain terms that at the end of the day she lacks talent and can never consider art professionally, came completely out of the blue to Ena. Before, he supported her love of art; it was only when she started to follow her dreams of doing it professionally like her father that he changed his tune. But even the resolution of that event (Insatiable Pale Color), where Akito got him to understand that Ena is really hurt from, to him, his desire held over many years now to set her on a kinder life path than the one he walks and sees lesser artists try and fail to walk, and to remember to be kind to his daughter as a father again, he really couldn't even do that. He snuck into her room, complimented a part of her art, immediately before telling her with just as sharp an eye why it's bad, but just, didn't even mention anything about their relationship, and certainly didn't apologize. He didn't even give her the 'I know she won't be able to walk the path I had to so I'm doing this to help her' speech he gave to Akito. So Shinei is definitely a problem, but I'm not sure he's why Ena's a social outcast, per se.

It might seem like Ena is a social outcast because her temper makes it so she can't have friends, but Airi is living proof that isn't true, that Ena is able and equipped to maintain longterm friendships. Significantly better than Mizuki is, in fact; Mizuki and Rui maintain a certain distance despite each still caring for the other. Moreover, both Airi and Ena have a tendency to snap at people and get harsh, so it also isn't an easy friendship to maintain.

Beyond her father and her temper, there's just seemingly unrelated details to go off of. Time and again, Ena is shown to eat sweets and deserts and not care what anybody has to say about it, while living a completely sedentary lifestyle. It comes up that her physical fitness isn't much better than Kanade's and is worse than Mizuki's, and people are always chiding Ena when she eats whatever she wants. This seems to be a coping mechanism, and fair; it's good to find a little joy in what you eat.

Potentially, Ena's attitude about her diet [or lack thereof] is a side-effect of her longtime friendship with Airi, who (understandably) has internalized herself keeping a good figure almost as a matter of life-or-death, and she'll also always be chiding Minori about eating what Minori wants, despite Haruka very much having Airi's same relationship with food. (I'm convinced Shizuku just genuinely loves eating healthy, but this may be me falling for her mask). I think put together, this implies Ena's a little on the chubby side, but that's not quite enough either for why she's a social outcast.

At the end of the day, Ena simply doesn't fixate on her figure, in direct contrast to how we see that featuring in with the More More Jump story; if they wanted to write Ena as having an unhealthy relationship with being pretty for her selfies, they've shown that they could. Ena does love fashion and does keep up with the trends and magazines, and Mizuki points out in the main story that Ena's really good with camera filters. Another way Ena has coped with not receiving the love her father is keeping from her, is trying to find it in social media, with her social media fame. Whether it's supposed to be Twitter or Instagram, she uses her account exclusively to post selfies that she tags very simply, while maintaining an internet-safety level of anonymity. Presumably she posts as Enanan because Mizuki comments in the main story that her social media account is the only thing Mizuki really knows about Ena's life outside N25 (and that the only thing she knows from it is what Ena looks like).

The elephant in the room, and why I don't consider her social media fame as a counterexample for why Ena can't possibly be a little chubby, is that Ena is a high schooler, and she became an instagram idol when she was a middle schooler. In theory, Ena knowing this reflects poorly on the people who fawn over her mere seconds after a posting a selfie, is the reason the gratification and attention she gets doesn't sustain her for more than a quick high.

In theory, all of this put together means Ena fits right in with the rest of the N25 cast, but, I just can't help but feel like there's something I'm missing.

[skiagraphe0]

Probably not controversial on tumblr, but I have an OC that people on reddit gave me crap for because he's mixed race and his combination "sounds stupid and unlikely". He is, quite literally, the same mixture as myself and my brother. It turns out real life has a lot of combinations you were not expecting to encounter, because real life has a lot more unpredictable plot twists to it and people fall in love in all kinds of wild circumstances.

How much tumblr would give me grief over it, I'm not sure. I think the fact that I am also that mix would make people hesitate to make fun of the character's race in that specific way. The comeback to "well that's not realistic" being "I'll let my parents know lmao" makes that not a criticism worth lodging. However, tumblr does tend to get angry at BIPOC characters having flaws/being written as nuanced, complicated people rather than as Flawless Perfect Representation. I think that's where there'd be more trouble - in seeking to write a character who isn't identical to myself, I gave him different flaws. Which means he still has flaws. This is not allowed, as he must be perfect in order to be Good Representation.

On the other hand, tumblr doesn't usually give a damn about Asians who aren't Japanese, Korean or sometimes Chinese. So I could possibly get away with him having flaws because most of tumblr would genuinely not know that Central Asians exist without being told that.

I voted yes because in my heart I know anyone can be yelled at for anything on here, though. As in, I imagine people would go, "Wow, he cut his abuser out of his life instead of forgiving him? Problematic!" or "I can't believe you ship him with a black woman! This author is anti-black love!" or something.

Do you have an OC that's controversial/could get you tumblr-canceled over?

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Brb about to cry myself to sleep about Haldir dying in the films and the emotional damage that had to have caused Celeborn in particular.

I can only imagine Celeborn and Haldir being friends and becoming close for centuries upon centuries, and perhaps even Celeborn himself (not Galadriel, but him alone) specifically choosing Haldir to be Marchwarden.

Because he would trust no other more with such a title and task.

And then off Haldir goes with a final goodbye, off to Helm's Deep to fight alongside the race of Men.

And Celeborn waits. And waits. And until all the bodies of elves from the battle get brought back home to Lothlórien, he worries.

And he sees Haldir's bow. Then his quiver, then his sword, and then- his body.

And all he does for weeks is cry. He ponders leaving his own kingdom for Valinor- but what use is it, when his people need him?

Even so, until time comes where he finally leaves Middle Earth- he is miserable and dimmed and lonely, even with Lady Galadriel by his side.

He is only made happy again when he crosses to Valinor, and there are countless familiar faces waiting, banners risen high in honour of his arrival.

And out from behind one steps Haldir, face softened and chin held high, before he dips it to his Lord, like he always had.

Celeborn has never found himself moving faster, and he hugs his beloved Marchwarden so closely Haldir can feel just how much he trembles.

[rosemaryreality]

If when Megumi and Yuuji talk again Megumi asks why Yuuji insists on saving him, and we get a callback to "personal feelings/selfish, emotional decision" i will die. You'll never hear from me again

[notyakuza-malewife]

Renji beats Kirishima and Shouma for putting Yoshino at risk and not a month later, she gets kidnapped and almost killed. Kirishima made a mistake that almost cost her life (if she hadn't been half as crafty as she was, she'd be dead). Shouma fucking knows about it. Tsubaki knows about it!!!!

They're not telling anyone.

Am I the asshole for wanting Renji to find out so I can see his reaction?

[helenofblackthorns]

idk why but sometimes I look in the anti tsc tags just because it's fun. the insane opinions you can stumble upon... for example I had no idea people were so passionate about jalec & jace/izzy that they sincerely believe they should have been canon. like they might the only people who think that but I admire the commitment

also I once saw someone say that the show is better than the books because it had representation. they were not claiming the books had worse representation mind you, they were explicitly claiming that the book didn't have any representation 😭 I think they must have read the wrong books because????

I also saw someone say that you could cut coa & cofa out of tmi and it would be perfectly understandable. they doubled down on coa having absolutely no storylines that are relevant in cog which. it doesn't have to be your favourite book or anything. but things did in fact happen. people died (mainly simon).

[spamtoon]

(Out of nowhere, you are approached by a familiar lightbulb-headed Cog.)

Ah, it's you, cat. Thinking you're oh-so-slick. Muttering and whispering under those raggedy whiskers of yours... Thinking I am unable to hear it all...

Well, you've simply underestimated my fantastic hearing. You probably want to know the reason why I'm here, taking a 'break' from my incredibly important scientific breakthroughs? It's quite simple, really!

(She gets close, and squints her eyes.)

I know what you are.

Farewell, now!

(She then leaves the way she came from.)

(Spam giggles immensely, covering her face... it always seems like she's giggling, isn't she? This lasts... at least thirty seconds. Longer than usual.)

And I know what I am too, Sparky! You broke through something, that's for sure. Really, broke through...

(She looks down, continuing to laugh nervously.)

You know, I find it odd you Havent tried to bulb blast me into the stratosphere by now. I mean knowing how you acted with Frostbite. Is there something peculiar about me that you perhaps can't quite track? Something about me that you... don't know what I am?

I know, I know, I'm talking to nobody again. But you were there when I had a moment today with the one the only Frostbite The Bravecog. You may be remaining. Lurking in the shadows. Knowing about these thoughts that I'm thinking.

(The giggling resumes, lasting far shorter this time.)

Your brother's a piece of fucking barp, by the way

(She braces for impact for a few seconds, wincing while smiling, before comically looking around to realize nobody's there. She sighs.)

Wow, okay maybe toony superhero show logic doesn't apply in this situation. Cool.

WAIT I JUST FUCKING REALIZED WHAT SHE MEANT but like. Dude if she meant that then what's the point I mean the whole ahh sellbot department barping knows unless you're Really low on the ladder. Heheh... maybe she did mean what I thought she meant.

Oh i'm so fucking screwed. What kind of bitch gets filament fever

[todayisafridaynight]

YEAH........... YEAH..... LIKEWISE, NO NOTES AT ALL, THAT'S EXACTLY IT... Main antagonist deaths are often treated as "comeuppance," but that would be the ultimate comeuppance for Aoki. As it stands, the only people who actually suffer for it are Ichiban and Jo, and Ichi didn't even do anything wrong. Also please I'm positive there's more to wring out of Aoki and Jo for an essay 😭😭at the very least, I always love to hear your perspective!

"he'd made a social circle for himself where people predominantly liked him for the power and influence" <- incredibly Mine-core of Aoki btw (I also feel the rest applies a little in terms of Mine probably being very quick to write off people who Do care about him as not caring about him, as with Katase, but it's nowhere near the extent of the Arakawas)

Wait actually it's kind of funny... for both Mine and Aoki, I was so sure their endings would go a certain way. Mine and Kiryu'd fight Richardson off together and Ichi'd, I don't know, shield Aoki or hug him so Kume couldn't get to him in the first place, or after that INSANE direct parallel to Arakawa running to the hospital with Masato, he'd miraculously pull through like he did on New Year's. Tormented with visions of the better timeline... With Aoki in particular, it makes me want to tear my hair out because the moment of him choosing to put the gun in the locker was REVOLUTIONARY for the series, looking at the characters he was most heavily based on.

Anyway. Bottom line. These bitches need to hug it out. It was so evil Arakawa didn't hug Ichi at Omi HQ or on the waterfront like bro stop being """manly""" for five seconds you're ruining my life you're ruining your own lives

There'd genuinely be nothing more painful yet more satisfying for an antagonist than being confronted with the consequences of their actions and having to navigate life after having making those decisions, ESPECIALLY when it comes to mending the bonds that- for anyone else- would have shattered long ago. With Aoki being motivated by the want to be loved and appreciated for himself, it would've been nice to see him finally acknowledge that he did have that love and start to better himself as a result (however much he'd be able to while in prison anyway lmao).

The Mine and Aoki comparisons are so real though, I remember joking to myself about it days after beating the game but it just fuels my mental illness every time I think about it ☠️ I LEGALLY AM NOT ALLOWED TO GO OFF ABOUT THE Y7 ENDING I'VE DONE IT TOO MUCH it makes me so mad every time I think about it 😭 ESPECIALLY THE PARALLELS WITH ARAKAWA AND THE LOCKERS UGGGHHH IT COULD HAVE BEEN SUCH AN EPIC CONCLUSION WITH THAT... Arakawa running from the lockers at the start of Aoki's life compared to Ichiban running from the lockers and getting Aoki to the hospital so Aoki can restart life I'm Going To Kill Someone (myself) (in Minecraft)

[lesenbyan]

I think the Hilson is getting to me so much bc this is the first time I've watched the show since actually identifying as disabled and being in pain 24/7 and watching House get angry and fed up and selfish when he sees the people who force him to keep going and have made him quite vicodin twice do everything they can to not live a life in pain is like.

Yeah House. I get where you're coming from now. You're still an ass, but like, yeah, I would be too a little

[longagoitwastuesday]

Found Gojo/Ijichi art. All is good in the world

[arcane-strangeness]

[rocketdrifter]

Galaxy Quest is one of my favorite movies, and Quellek's death is my favorite scene from it. This is why.

Galaxy Quest (1999) (✚)

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　TOO MUCH

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt and Nick say some hurtful things to Chris during a fight, bringing his insecurities to life and causing him to turn to his anchor, Y/N.

WARNING: Insecurities, fighting, crying, anxiety attack.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The noise in the living room had escalated from playful teasing in front of the camera to sharp, biting words. Chris stood behind the kitchen table, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he glared at Matt and Nick, who were both looking at him from the other side of the table with expressions caught between frustration and exasperation.

"Do you ever think before you act, Chris?" Matt's voice was, surprisingly, raised, an edge of impatience in his tone. "We can’t get through one day without you doing something childish and making a scene, or worse, making our videos look like shit because of it!"

Chris’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately, his eyes darting between his brothers, trying to make sense of how things had gotten so out of hand.

"I wasn’t trying to do anything." He muttered finally, his voice barely above a whisper laced with hurt. "I was just... being myself."

"Yeah, exactly." Nick jumped in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "And that’s the problem. You’re always yelling and doing the most, Chris. It’s just... exhausting, okay?"

Chris clenched his fists, jaw tight as he glared at Nick, feeling himself crumbling a bit because sure, he’s too much. Sure, he speaks too loud and had opinions about everything and wasn’t afraid to share them, even if they were about the silliest things. Sure, he feels cornered and childish and immature and annoying, and most of what they're saying is probably true, but hearing his own brothers say it out loud... it pains his heart.

"You know, that’s actually rich coming from you." He shot back, his voice carrying a frustration he couldn’t hold back, trying to disguise his pain with anger. "You’re always the first to say that people watch us because we’re different, because even though we look the same, we're still different. But all you ever do is complain that I’m not just like you or Matt!”

Nick’s expression shifted, taken aback by Chris’s words. But Nick wasn’t one to back down, his voice snapping back almost before Chris had finished speaking.

"That’s not what I’m saying at all!" He fired, eyes narrowing. "Is it so insane to want you to stop yelling and acting like a literal child in every video? We’re trying to be professional, Chris! People like us, yeah, but they won’t if you keep acting like-"

Chris dragged a hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead, trying to shut out Nick’s words, trying to drown out the overwhelming feeling of being misunderstood.

"... and we can’t keep dealing with it, Chris. Grow the fuck up."

The youngest felt his chest tighten even more. His greatest insecurity - one that clawed at his chest every night when he couldn’t sleep, when the silence around him became deafening - was now on full display, brutally brought to life by the people he trusted most.

The internet was relentless in labeling him as "the weird one", the "annoying triplet", just because he was loud and talked too much, just because he was unapologetically himself. He’d laugh it off, of course, joke about it even because it was easier to pretend it didn’t bother him. But deep down, those words haunted him, scraping at the edges of his self-worth, making him wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t enough.

And now, hearing Matt and Nick throw those same words at him... he felt hollow. Like all the air had been knocked from his lungs. They knew. They knew how those comments got to him, how hard he tried to ignore it, to rise above the criticism.

"Fine." He said bitterly, hating how his voice trembled slightly as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I’ll get out of your way, then."

He pushed his weight off of the table, preparing himself to get out of there, but as Chris stormed away, Nick's frustration boiled over, and he turned to Matt, his voice sharp and incredulous.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He hissed, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

But Chris kept walking, his shoulders tense as he made his way to the stairs, refusing to let himself look back. His brothers’ voices felt like static at this point, blending into the background as he forced himself to keep going.

Behind him, Matt muttered under his breath, an edge of impatience creeping in.

"Why is he being so dramatic?" He called, exasperation evident in his tone. "Chris, just come back, man! Let’s finish this video."

But Chris didn’t even slow down. Each word felt like salt in a wound he was struggling to ignore, a constant reminder that he wasn’t on the same level as them, that they were all looking at him like he was the problem.

Maybe he was.

As he went down the stairs, his mind was racing, every emotion simmering just below the surface.

His hands trembled slightly as he reached his bedroom door, a mix of anger, shame, and sadness twisting in his chest, his breath hitching as he struggled to keep it together. He wanted to scream, to push all the hurt away.

Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Y/N - curled up on his bed with notebooks spread around her and laptop balanced on her knees - looked up instantly, a huge smile spreading across her face as she noticed him, her expression so genuinely happy to see him that it made his heart ache even more.

"Hi, honey! How was filming?" She greeted brightly, unaware of the turmoil written across his face.

But her smile faltered quickly as she took in his red-rimmed eyes, the way his face seemed almost haunted, his body tense and trembling as he stood frozen in the doorway. She blinked, worry flashing across her features.

"Chris? Hey, what happened?" The girl whispered, and her words were like a lifeline, breaking the dam he’d tried so hard to keep in place.

She was quick in put her work together, placing her notebooks and laptop gently onto the floor beside her, leaving it all opened for her to come back to it later, her arms instinctively opening up to him.

"Come here, baby."

Without another thought, Chris crossed the room and collapsed into her open arms, sinking onto the bed as if the weight of the world had become too much for him to bear alone.

His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his face burrowing into her shoulder as if he could somehow hide from everything that had been clawing at him. His legs slid between her thighs, his body curling into hers, every part of him drawn in close, seeking refuge in the only place that felt safe.

Y/N didn’t say anything at first. She could feel the way his shoulders shook, the silent sobs racking through him as he tried to hold back, his breath catching painfully against her neck. She held him even tighter, her hands slipping up to cradle the back of his head, her fingers threading gently through his fluff hair as she pressed soft, reassuring kisses to his forehead, his temple, anywhere she could reach.

"Shh... It’s okay, sweetheart." She murmured softly, pressing her lips to his line of hair. "I'm here. You're safe. Just breathe, Chris. Just breathe, baby."

But Chris felt anything but safe in his own skin. Shame and hurt twisted inside him, tightening like a vice around his chest. He tried to fold himself even smaller, curling tighter into her, trying to somehow look smaller for a 5'8 grown man, pressing his body as close to hers as he could.

He wanted to disappear, to melt into her embrace, and let the world live freely without his presence. The words Matt and Nick had thrown at him - the very same words he read online, the labels he was used to brushing off - felt so true, so much a part of him that he couldn’t deny them.

Childish. Annoying. Immature.

He hated himself in that moment, hated how much he cared, hated how the words dug under his skin, making him feel unworthy, unloved.

"Am I... am I really that annoying?" He whispered, his voice cracking and sounding more horse than it should. "Do you... Do you think I’m too much, too?"

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully as she heard his words, the broken way he spoke them. She frowned deeply, pulling back just enough to look down at him, her hand cupping his wet cheek as she met his gaze, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down his face.

"Oh, sweetheart..." She shook her head gently, her voice laced with disbelief and fierce love. "No. No, Chris, of course not. You’re not annoying. You’re not too much. You’re everything I could ever want. You’re perfect exactly the way you are."

He clenched his fists, gripping onto Y/N’s hoodie - or better, his own blue hoodie -, his knuckles white with the force of it as he tried to agree with her, but her words didn’t seem to reach him. His brow furrowed, his eyes filling with fresh tears as he choked out.

"They said... They said I’m always yelling, being loud, making a scene... like I’m always... embarrassing them." His voice caught on the last words, his breath hitching as he fought to keep from breaking down completely.

Y/N held him tighter, her hand moving to the bottom of his white shirt, traveling inside of it only to rub soothing circles along his naked back as she spoke in a soft, steady tone, hoping her words would anchor him.

"Chris, they love you. They’re just... they don’t understand how much their words hurt sometimes. But that doesn’t mean you’re a burden or that you’re too much. You bring so much joy and energy to everything. That’s part of who you are, and it’s one of the things I love most about you."

He shook his head slightly, his breathing coming faster as anxiety started to build again, overtaking him.

"I... I just don’t get it. One minute, they’re saying people watch us because we’re different... and then they tell me I should be more like them. I don’t... I don’t know how to be that. I tried so hard to be like them, you have to believe me, but I don’t know how to change who I am-"

Y/N felt the depth of his frustration in the desperate way that he begged, wanting - no, needing - her to believe him. She cupped his face gently, urging him to look at her.

"You don’t have to change, Chris. Not for anyone. You’re enough just as you are, baby. And you’re not a burden. Not to me, not to anyone who really sees you and loves you for who you are."

He nodded slowly, finally trying to take a deep breath, only to feel like his nose was closed and his throat was being chocked by invisible hands. He closed his eyes forcefully, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he tried to breathe in a gulp of air that never seemed to be enough. Chris could feel his heart tightening, his chest struggling in the quick movements of going up and down too many times in a second.

"Can't- I... Please-" He tried, tightening his hands around her hoodie, panicking with the anxiety attack that seemed to come so suddenly.

"Hey, hey, Chris. Sweetheart, you’re okay." Y/N whispered softly, her voice a calming presence against the storm inside him. She shifted slightly, one hand now resting on his chest with a firm press as she guided him through deep breaths, her own voice slow and steady. "Come on, just breathe with me, okay? In... and out... Nice and slow. I’m right here with you."

Following her lead, Chris pressed his eyes tighter in a way that made him see stars behind his eyelids, focusing on the rhythm of her voice, the rise and fall of her own breathing against his fists. With each exhale, he felt a bit of the tension release, his chest loosening as he tried to match her calming breaths.

Gradually, his racing heart began to slow, the adrenaline draining from his body, leaving him feeling heavy, exhausted.

Y/N smiled softly, brushing her fingers through his hair as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"There you go. That’s it... Well done, my strong boy. Now, just relax. I’ve got you."

As his breathing evened out, Chris opened his eyes slowly, his blurred gaze meeting hers with a vulnerability that tore at her heart.

"You don’t have to carry all of this alone, Chris. I’m always here for you, no matter what. You’re safe with me, okay? I love you... so much." She leaned down, pressing another kiss to his forehead as she held him close, her voice soft.

The gentle reassurance, the quiet love in her words wrapped around him like a blanket, pulling him further into her warmth. His eyelids grew heavier, the tiredness finally catching up with him as he let himself surrender to the comfort of her arms, a quiet whine escaping his throat.

"I know, honey. Sleep." Y/N whispered, a tender smile on her lips as she cradled him closer, holding him like a mother would hold her kid, her hands tracing soothing patterns along his back. "You can rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up."

As she continued to whisper soft reassurances, her fingers running gently through his hair, Chris’s breathing finally evened out, his body relaxing completely in her arms. His head rested on the curve of her neck, his arms still wrapped around her waist as he drifted off, his pain and worries slipping away in the safety of her embrace.

Y/N leaned down, pressing one last, lingering kiss to his hair before laying her cheek against his head, her arms wrapped securely around his body as she watched over him.

"I love you, sweet boy."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A couple of hours had passed, the sunsetting casting a soft, warm light over Chris’s room, where he and Y/N lay wrapped together on the bed. Chris’s face was nestled against her shoulder, his breathing steady and calm now, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers.

Outside the room, Matt and Nick exchanged a glance. They’d been standing in the hallway for nearly five minutes, trying to muster the courage to knock. Their earlier argument with Chris had weighed heavily on both of them, guilt twisting in their stomachs as they replayed every hurtful word that had left their mouths.

Finally, Matt raised his fist and knocked softly on Chris’s door, the faint sound echoing in the silence. When there was no answer, he hesitated, glancing at Nick before slowly pushing the door open.

They both froze at the sight before them. Chris and Y/N were curled up together on the bed, Chris’s face still damp from tears as he lay against her, completely relaxed in her arms. Y/N had one arm around his shoulders, her fingers resting in his hair, while her other hand was hiding inside his shirt, holding his back, cradling him protectively. They looked peaceful.

Matt’s heart clenched at the sight, guilt intensifying as he took in Chris’s tear-streaked face. He glanced over at Nick, who was staring down at his feet, clearly feeling the same crushing remorse.

"Let's go. We can come back later." Matt muttered, pulling Nick towards himself before starting to back out of the room, thinking it might be best to give Chris a bit more time.

But just as they were about to close the door, Chris stirred, shifting slightly in Y/N’s arms. He nuzzled his head on her shoulder, his face just inches from the gentle slope of her neck where he could still catch the faint, familiar scent of her perfume mingling with the natural warmth of her skin.

He moved slightly, careful not to wake her, though his movement caused her to pull him in closer, her fingers instinctively brushing over his back. The feeling of her hand tracing small, soothing circles over his shoulder as if it was a muscle memory grounded him further, coaxing a soft sigh from him as he nuzzled deeper into her embrace, pressing a gentle, barely-there kiss to her neck.

When his sleepy eyes finally traveled around the room while gently stretching his legs between hers, he finally caught Matt and Nick's figures standing in the doorway.

His face fell the instant he realized they were there, his peaceful expression replaced by a guarded, distant look. Carefully, he eased himself up, making sure not to wake Y/N as he pulled himself away from her arms.

"Came for round two?" He looked at Matt and Nick, his sleepy voice laced with bitterness as he asked.

Nick swallowed, words catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say. What an irony. He opened his mouth but only managed to mumble, stumbling over his words as he tried to get them out.

Finally, Nick took a small step closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Chris, I... we came to say... We just..." His pearly teeth caged his bottom lip momentarily, taking a deep breath. "We love that you’re different."

Chris stared at him, incredulous, eyebrows raised as he scoffed softly.

"Different? That’s what you’re leading with?" His eyes narrowed, hurt simmering just beneath the surface. "So now I’m the ‘different’ one? Funny, ‘cause that didn’t seem to be a good thing a few hours ago."

Nick faltered, his face flushing as he realized his words weren’t coming out the way he intended. He tried again, tripping over his explanation.

"No, no, I... I didn’t mean it like that. I just-"

Chris took a deep, shaky breath, his gaze lowered as he avoided Nick and Matt's eyes, interrupting Nick.

"Look, I want to apologize, alright?" He started, his voice barely more than a murmur, thick with emotion. "I know it was all my fault and that I’m a lot to handle. I get it. I can be too loud, too... everything, really. And I know I’m not like you guys. I’ve tried so hard to be, but it’s just... not me." His words hung heavy in the room, his fingers twisting anxiously in his lap. "I feel like sometimes I just ruin things because I don’t know how to turn it off. You two seem to have this balance, you know when to joke and when to be serious, and I’m over here just... always pushing things too far."

He exhaled deeply, finally lifting his eyes to meet his brothers', the weight of insecurity and years of self-doubt written all over his face.

"I’m sorry if it feels like you have to put up with me. I’ve tried to be more like you, but it’s never enough. And sometimes... it just feels like who I am isn’t what anyone wants." His voice cracked at the last words, his vulnerability laid bare, and he quickly looked away, bracing himself for whatever they would say.

Nick and Matt shared a look, each seeing the guilt mirrored in the other’s eyes as Chris’s words sank in, cutting through them like a blade.

Matt felt his chest tighten, a pang of regret settling heavily in his stomach, making it hard to breathe. How could he have let Chris - his little brother, the boy who was always loving him no matter what - believe, even for a second, that he wasn’t wanted exactly as he was?

His legs moved on instinct, carrying him back into the room before he even registered it, straight to Chris, who looked so small and hurt, slumped at the edge of the bed. Kneeling down, Matt reached out, placing a steadying hand on Chris’s knee, his fingers gently pressing into his brother’s skin as if trying to ground him.

"Chris, you’re our little brother. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re too much for us." He swallowed, his voice wavering as he continued, willing Chris to see and feel every word. "I love you, man. We love you for who you are. You don’t need to change a thing. It’s your energy, your spark that makes everything better. You have this way of bringing life into everything, and that’s something I wouldn’t change for anything." He looked into Chris’s eyes, his own gaze filled with a raw honesty. "We need you to be you, Chris. No one else."

Nick’s heart clenched as he watched, his own guilt building with every second. Gaining control over the hurt and regret flooding him, he crossed the room in long strides, dropping down beside Matt. He looked up at Chris, his throat tight with emotion, the sight of his little brother so closed-off, so wounded, cutting deep. He was supposed to protect him, not hurt him.

"Yeah... you being another person? That’s not what we want at all. We’ve never wanted you to be anyone else. You’re perfect the way you are, Chris." Nick’s voice shook, filled with a determination to make Chris understand the truth, to undo every careless word he and Matt had thrown his way earlier. "I'm so, so sorry that we said all of those things and made you think so bad about yourself."

Chris’s defenses wavered, his resolve crumbling as he glanced between his brothers. Their sincerity seeped through, but doubt still clouded his gaze. He let out a heavy sigh, loosening his grip on his hoodie just a bit.

"You promise?" His voice was barely a whisper, fragile and laced with uncertainty, his fingers twisting anxiously into the fabric of his sleeve.

Without hesitation, Nick reached forward, taking Chris’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing firmly.

"We promise. We love how wild you are, how you’re always the one bringing the energy. You’re louder, sure, but that’s not something bad, it's exactly what makes you, you. You’re the happiest out of the three of us, Chris, and we wouldn’t change that for anything." He gave Chris’s hand another reassuring squeeze, feeling the smallest hint of relief when he saw the younger brother begin to relax, if only slightly.

Matt nodded, adding gently.

"And hey, I don’t think we need to be professional or act in a type of way for our videos to be good. The viewers love us for who we are... the mix of chaos and calm. That’s what makes us, us. It’s why they stick around."

Chris took a shaky breath, letting their words settle over him, feeling the weight of them begin to ease some of the pain. Slowly, he nodded, his fingers curling back around Nick’s reassuring grip.

"Okay."

Matt leaned forward, placing a hand on Chris’s shoulder.

"We’ll do better, alright? We’re brothers. We’re gonna mess up, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have each other’s backs. Always."

Chris exhaled deeply, finally letting the tension melt away as he leaned into their touch, the comfort of his brothers grounding him in a way only they could. Straightening himself, he managed a small, tired smile, his heart feeling a bit lighter.

"Yeah... always."

"Well, I’m really glad you guys are okay again." Y/N’s soft voice broke the silence, bringing all three heads up in surprise.

She moved with a quiet strength as she sat up and brushed her hand tenderly through Chris’s hair, watching his face light up as he realized she’d been awake all along.

"But just so we’re clear... if either of you hurt my baby like that again, you’re going to have to answer to me." She turned her gaze to Nick and Matt, a playful but fierce glint in her eyes.

"Y/N..." Chris dragged the last letter of her name in a whining tone, feeling flustered with how she called him 'her baby' in front of his brothers - even though they were more than accustomed with it.

Nick’s eyes widened jokingly with her threat, a chuckle escaping him. He lifted his hands in mock surrender, glancing at Matt as if to say, 'Well, we better watch out'. Matt nodded, eyes a bit sheepish, scratching the back of his neck.

"Alright, alright, no more ganging up on Chris. You have our word, Y/N."

Content with their promises, Y/N turned her attention back to Chris, opening her arms and pulling him into her embrace once more. He let out a soft sigh, sinking into her warmth, his head nestled against her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him protectively, fingers tracing soothing circles along his back as she whispered.

"I told you they didn't mean it." He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him, the last bits of hurt melting away.

Nick and Matt watched the two of them, a fondness softening their expressions.

"You know." She murmured, pulling Chris's head away from her chest and looking at him with a mischievous grin. "You’re pretty lucky to have all of us wrapped around your finger."

Chris laughed, a real laugh this time, the sound full of relief and love.

"Yeah, I know. I just... I guess I forget sometimes."

"Well." Nick started, squeezing Chris’s shoulder with a grin. "We’re not going anywhere. So next time, just remind us if we’re being idiots, alright?"

Chris nodded, glancing gratefully at each of them, feeling more grounded and cherished than he had in a long time.