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bethansfandoms · 3 years ago

Note

/post/647279129847283712/okay-so-anonymous-on-instagram-asked-me-how-do : your take on why sirius sent snape to the willow hasn't left me since you published it, so good! i know the prank has been written about time and time again, but i'd just love to see your take on the aftermath of the prank - how mad remus is, how and when and why he finds it in him to forgive sirius... your writing is incredible and i would be grateful forever if you wrote this! 🐺⭐🙏

You don't have to have read part one of this for the post to make sense <3

Sirius panicked the moment he landed on the floor of the Potter's living room.

He hadn't been thinking, he had been so scared, so in pain, that in the moment he had grabbed the floo powder and requested to be taken to James', he had temporarily forgotten that James didn't want to see him. He had been so desperate to escape from his house that he hadn't taken the time to just think.

Sirius hadn't spent Christmas at home in a long time. Usually, the marauders would stay at Hogwarts or he would go to James'. For the Christmas of his fifth year, however, he had announced that he was going home. The brief conversation in which he had informed them of this had been the most he'd spoken to them in months.

Sirius knew he wasn't welcome to spend Christmas with the marauders, not after what he'd done, not after he'd told Snape how to get past the whomping willow.

To Sirius, it didn't matter the circumstances, it didn't matter that Snape knew legilimency, that he'd been provoked, none of it mattered because the first thing Remus had told him was that he didn't want to hear excuses, and so Sirius had decided not to go against his wishes, not then and not ever again.

He'd kept his distance, it had been killing him, but he'd stayed away. The only time the four of them were together was late at night when Sirius, his head hung, would enter the dormitory, quickly walk over to his bed, and draw the curtains.

James had shouted at him more than Remus had and Sirius stood there and took it, he'd never seen James so angry, not at anybody, and so, even in the delirious state he was in, he knew he'd messed up coming to his house.

"Sirius?" Sirius took a moment before his eyes were able to focus on the doorway. James was stood in his pyjamas, only for a brief moment, before he was running to Sirius' side. "Mum! Dad! Fuck, Sirius, what happened?"

"Parents. I’m sorry," Sirius croaked.

He only caught a brief glimpse of James' parents entering the room before consciousness escaped him.

He awoke still on the floor, James and Euphemia knelt at his side. "Fleamont has locked the floo network," Euphemia said softly, "he's writing to Dumbledore now, you're safe."

James squeezed his arm, "You're staying with us. You're not going back to your parents, Padfoot." Sirius almost cried at the nickname, he'd missed it so much.

He was, however, confused. Had James forgotten to be angry at him? He didn't get much time to dwell on it, he felt his eyes closing and blackness claimed him again.

This time, he awoke in a bed, the one in the room he usually stayed him. James was there still, fiddling with his glasses. "Feel like passing out again?" he asked, smiling weakly.

Sirius tried to smile in return, "No, I think I'm alright for now.”

James nodded, "Look, Sirius, mum said... she said it looked like someone had performed the—"

"I don't want to talk about it," he whispered. James nodded in response and dropped the subject. "I'm sorry I came here," Sirius said, voice breaking, "I didn't know where else to go."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because... because of what happened in September, because I told Snape about the whomping willow. You're angry at me."

James ran his hands through his hair and sighed, "I know I said I wouldn't forgive you until Remus did, and I meant it. But I— Sirius, I told you going home was a good idea. If I'd just let you come here, been the bigger fucking person..."

"I would have gone home anyway, no matter what you said."

"Yeah," James scoffed, "you're a stubborn git like that. Look, I was about to write to Peter and Remus so they—"

"No!" Sirius had tried to sit up too suddenly and his back gave a painful twinge, "no, you can't tell Remus. He'll feel bad and forgive me and I can't have him do that until he's ready. You can't write to him."

"Alright," James said, "try and get some sleep then, okay mate?"

Sirius nodded, "Promise not to write to Remus?"

"Promise."

Sirius slowly blinked awake to daylight streaming through the curtains. He tentatively sat up, stretching as much as the pain in his bones allowed him to. Then, he almost jumped half to death.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." Remus was smiling at him from his chair in the corner, and Sirius had missed his smile so much.

"What are you doing here? It was the full moon last night!"

"Yeah, yeah, it was," Remus sounded almost surprised that Sirius had remembered, like he would ever forget. "James wrote. I got the letter early this morning, used the floo network to get straight here. I probably look like shit.”

"I told him not to write," Sirius mumbled.

"I know, he told me. Sirius, what you did, it was... but I never wanted you to think I was so irreversibly angry that I wouldn't be here for you after something like this."

Sirius nodded sadly, biting his lip in an attempt to stop any tears. "Remus, I know you hate me for what I did, but I... I hate myself for it more than you ever could."

Remus sighed, sadly, "I don't hate you, Sirius. I think maybe I want to, but I don’t, I never could.”

"Snape knows legilimency," Sirius blurted. "I know you didn't want excuses, this isn't one, I just... I tried to block him, my mother had used it on me before, I was blocking him but he kept trying to use me to confirm you were a werewolf and I got so angry and I told him. I know it doesn't justify—"

He stopped speaking as Remus got up and walked across the room, sitting in bed next to him. "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"Doesn't change anything. I still told him."

Remus kicked off his shoes and pulled back the duvet, lying down and sighing. Sirius slowly mirrored his position. "I forgive you, you know."

Sirius thought he might cry. "You don't have to, just because my parents... it doesn't mean you have to feel bad for me or whatever."

"I was always going to forgive you, Sirius. I hated to admit it to myself because I was so fucking angry at you, but I knew I was always going to forgive you. So why not now?"

Sirius shuffled closer and hugged him, then. They would hug s like this sometimes after one of them had had a nightmare. Sirius had never been big fan of physical affection, not in the same way James was, but he hugged Remus tight, only relaxing when he felt Remus hug him back.

James pushed the door open slowly, he couldn't hear Remus and Sirius talking, he’d left them alone for a good hour. Briefly, he wondered if maybe they'd killed one another and that was why there was complete silence from within the room.

Instead of any casualties, he found Sirius and Remus asleep, the duvet over them but not enough to hide the way their limbs were tangled together.

He sighed to himself. He'd found them this way before, some mornings in the dormitory, the two of them sleeping soundly in bed together for reasons he didn't quite know.

"Knew I was right to send Remus an owl," he muttered to himself, closing the door and letting them sleep.

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar fanfiction #marauders #remus lupin x sirius black #sirius black x remus lupin #wolfstar blog #James potter #wolfstar headcannon #mwpp #marauders era #oneshot

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years ago

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Hiiii! I absolutely love your writing. Could you do an imagine based off of your pregnancy one shot? Since H is incredibly private, would the couple be able to hide her pregnancy from the public and then announce it similar to like Kylie Jenner’s video diary of the whole experience? Thanks!!

A/N: Ok I was OBSESSED with this request, but for some reason I found it very difficult to write, so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. Hope you like it <3

Word Count: 2,698

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

To add yourself to my Taglist, click HERE

CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

Friendly reminder to please like and/or reblog. It helps more than you think :)

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Is Forever Enough?

From the moment Harry found out he and Y/N were expecting their first child, he knew he wanted to document everything. He had been in the habit of capturing moments throughout their relationship, mainly of big events, but from this moment on, he wanted to capture it all. Little clips of every doctor’s appointment, every craving his wife had, every heartbeat, and every little kick. He wanted video documentation of the life growing inside his wife’s belly and everything that happened during that time. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he wanted to make sure they would never forget a single second of it. From telling their closest friends and family members, designing the nursery, their tiny baby shower, attended by the select few that were lucky enough to know their secret.

At first, keeping silent was a way to protect themselves in case Y/N’s pregnancy didn’t stick like their fertility doctor had warned them was a possibility. It took them nearly two years to conceive, and the thought of going through a miscarriage in front of millions of watchful eyes was terrifying. But by the time they became aware that they weren’t going to miscarry, they had gone so long without announcing it that there wasn’t a point to do it. Why ruin something that was so well hidden?

The decision not to announce their pregnancy to the public wasn’t a hard decision to make. Harry was private, anyway, and everyone knew that. He was rarely on social media and didn’t talk about his private life to many people, and those who he did talk to were very loyal and trusting. They just wanted to enjoy being pregnant without the prying eyes of strangers and it was fairly easy keeping it under wraps considering how private they were, to begin with.

The timing of Y/N’s pregnancy helped, too. The early part of her pregnancy was during the summer, so they could enjoy tropical holidays together without worrying about being seen because she simply wasn’t showing yet. But, towards the end, it got harder to conceal, like during award season in the fall when an oversized shirt or puffy dress couldn’t conceal the roundness of her bump and plumpness of her cheeks and lips. It was the first award season she hadn’t accompanied Harry to in years and people began to get suspicious.

That’s when the rumors of her possible pregnancy started. Of course, no one could prove anything. But that, along with the lack of sightings of Y/N was enough proof for some. Luckily, nothing more came of it other than whispers. Harry had stopped doing interviews when he first got wind of the rumors, so no one could catch him off guard in uncomfortable positions or having to lie to protect his wife, and he began to focus his attention back on his music, halting his pursuance of on-screen work for the time being until after their baby boy’s arrival. Instead, he was the man behind the camera.

For the most part.

There were times when certain family members or friends would pick up their camera and film some things for them, capturing little intimate moments of the parents-to-be. They even enlisted the help of Harry’s on-tour photographer, Helene Pambrun, to help film the birth of their baby. Though she focused mainly on photography, her knowledge of videography and style of filming fit exactly with what the couple wanted, and Helene was all too honored to be a part of the day.

And although the birth of their child was, albeit, a bit traumatic, they couldn’t have asked for a sweeter baby boy. Born on a frigid Friday evening on March eighteenth after twenty hours of active labor and an onslaught of chaos, Paxton Robin Styles was born, tiny, healthy, and beautiful, surrounded by family that already loved him so dearly.

The hospital staff was wonderful in keeping their attendance private, no one having a clue that they were even there. No news articles or whispers were heard of their newest addition to which they were grateful to be allowed to enjoy their first week home, getting acclimated to being new parents. They had fallen in love with him.

“Y/N!” Harry exclaimed, bouncing into the nursery on a Monday afternoon as his wife fed their son, his phone in hand, and a bright smile on his face.

Y/N looked up, surprised and slightly offended, “Don’t ever call me by my name again,” she joked, stroking their son’s cheek.

Harry laughed, “Sorry, love. But, look! It’s here!”

He held his phone in front of her face, playing the edited version of their pregnancy and birth journey in video form one of Harry’s editor friends kindly put together for them after the birth of their son. The five minute and fifty-one-second video filled with shortened clips of the last nearly ten months of their lives in becoming first-time parents. They watched it together, occasionally glancing down at their baby that had fallen asleep while eating in Y/N’s arms, in awe that this was their life.

Tears were streaming down both of their faces, and Y/N giggled, wiping her husband’s cheek with her free hand. He was an emotional being, she knew that, but she had no idea what the effect of fatherhood would be on her Harry. She couldn’t have picked a better partner to raise a child with.

“I think we should post it,” Harry said, causing Y/N’s eyes to go wide.

“Post it? Like...social media?”

Harry nodded, “Well, we can’t keep him a secret forever. People are already starting to talk. I’d rather announce it on our own terms than on someone else’s. We can still stay as private as possible, I’ve already talked to Jeffrey and my publicist about it. I just...he makes me so proud and I feel like I need to show people that.”

Y/N smiles sweetly at her husband, taking his hand that rested on the arm to the nursing chair and pulling it up to her lips, kissing it gently. “Okay. We can post it.”

Later that evening, the internet was in an uproar and their phones were blowing up like crazy, for on both of their Instagrams they posted a grey-scale picture of a name tag sticker that read “Hello, I’m: P”, captioned ‘link in bio’, where they were directed to a youtube link posted under Harry’s account.

As soon as the video began, Harry’s soft voice was heard, singing his version of ‘Lullaby’ by the Dixie Chicks in the background as unseen footage of their wedding a few years prior had fizzled into view, video of their first dance as husband and wife played while the tail end of a speech made by Harry’s mom, Anne, was heard over everything else.

“We are so incredibly grateful to have Y/N now an official part of our family and I wish you both years of love, health, and happiness….and giving me tons and tons of grandchildren,” earning laughter from the attendees, “I love you both to pieces. Congratulations.”

The video slowly changed to little snippets. Y/N running towards the beach, holding her hat tight on her head with one hand while the other was holding onto Harry’s hand that was at the bottom of the screen as the breeze whipped at Y/N’s hair and sarong, cut to a clip of the camera propped on the beach overlooking the two of them sitting in the sand, looking out into the ocean, Y/N’s head falling on Harry’s shoulder and him kissing the top of her head as the sun set.

Next was a scene during one of Harry’s tour where someone filmed Y/N at the front of the stage in a VIP area beside a few of their friends, dancing and singing along with Harry who stood in front of her, smiling and singing at her.

The next images were upsetting. When they first started trying, they recorded videos of themselves awaiting the results of their tests, hoping to capture the moment they found out on film. One after another, the video showed negative test upon negative test, wanting to document the struggle they faced in fertility, one of the main reasons they decided to post this video. If it helped just one person who struggled with infertility and gave them a bit of hope, they needed to show it.

They showed clips of Harry holding an emotional Y/N in his arms, her eyes filled with tears and a quivering lip as he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. Until the next clip showed. A shaky still of a screen that read ‘Pregnant’ that panned up to show a reflection of Harry and his wife in the mirror, Y/N pulling the test up to her face with a smile while Harry looked down at his wife in pride, softly touching her flat belly.

Clips of an ultrasound showed, Y/N stomach looking more bloated than anything as the doctor slid the wand around on her belly, Harry filming while squeezing his wife’s hand. His voice could barely be heard over the music of the video as he cooed, “Is that it, right there? So little…”

They included a few announcements they made to family members. How they told Anne while on an end of summer family vacation with a little jewelry box that opened up to two little birds and an egg in a birds nest with a note that said ‘A little birdy told me you are going to be a Nana.’ making Anne burst into tears, hugging them. And when they told Y/N’s best friend by giving her an orange and saying, “That’s how big our baby is right now,” which caused confusion before the screaming.

Y/N had filmed mirror clips of her growing belly in the floor-length mirror that stood in the corner of their room and had gotten clips of Harry laying beside her bump, his hands rubbing her stomach, clasped on either side as he sang, or talked, or read stories.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he could be heard saying before kissing the top of her bump, looking up and past the camera to his wife, smiling lovingly.

There were images of Christmas, Gemma having caught an intimate moment between the two of them, Y/N sat in between Harry’s legs on the floor, mugs of hot chocolate in her hands and still in their Christmas Pajamas, Harry’s cheek pressed against hers as he held up a blue Gucci baby suit in front of them, smiling and gushing about how small it was.

The couple’s silhouette could be seen in the dark light sky as they stood in the middle of the field, illuminated by the New Years’ fireworks that went off in the distance, Y/N’s belly pressed against Harry’s stomach as they kissed intimately amongst their friends.

A small baby shower inside one of their London country homes was next, littered with a few familiar faces along with some that were likely family members. Harry still sang in the background as the two of them opened gifts, smiling and laughing with each other, genuine happiness and love could be seen on everyone’s faces and a few people popped onto the screen to say a few words for the unborn baby.

“You have wonderful parents,” Y/N’s parents grinned, her mom getting teary-eyed. “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

Anne’s bright, shining smile was next, “You’re going to do amazing things. You are so loved.”

“Hi, my sweet nephew! It’s Auntie Gemma,” she grinned, waving at the camera, “I can’t wait to meet you and snuggle you! I hope you grow up to be just as kind and loving as your parents. We are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

Harry and Y/N were seen in the background, Y/N eating a slice of cake while Harry casually kissed her cheek before stealing a bite of her food, earning a smile from his pregnant wife

Video panned over their newly renovated nursery, mostly designed to be gender-neutral with little hints of outer space; moon lights, a solar system mobile hanging above the cot, with a star blanket draped over the nursing chair. Harry moved the camera to Y/N who was hanging some onesies in the nursery closet, smiling and waving at the camera.

Next, they were laying in bed. It was dark and, but a glow from a nightstand shone and Y/N’s belly was visible, round and very pregnant, a few freckles near her navel, and the faintest linea nigra could be seen running from her belly button down towards the bottom of her belly. Their voices were barely audible over the music still sung by Harry. A little ripple on her belly cast from left to right and then her belly distorted a little as their baby boy kicked and pressed against the center of her bump, making the couple laugh and Harry’s hand appeared, softly rubbing where his son’s foot would be.

It changed. They were in a hospital now, Y/N in a grey and white spotted hospital gown. The camera was propped on a table filming Y/N who sat on the edge of her bed, moving her hips from side to side as she breathed heavily, moaning, while Harry kneeled on the floor in front of her, his hands on her hips and squeezing to relieve some pressure. They were talking to each other, concern, and empathy clear on Harry’s face.

In the next clip, Y/N was laying back in her hospital bed, sucking on gas and air. Harry was filming this time, and his Anne could be seen this time, sitting on Y/N’s other side holding her daughter-in-law’s free hand. Y/N put the gas and air down, gave a thumbs-up, and smiled, “We’re having a baby today!” as her mother-in-law smiled brightly.

The footage faded to black before it flashed to Y/N looking at someone just out of view as the disembodied voice said, “Whenever you feel the urge to push, let us know. You’ll be meeting your son soon.”

It faded to black again, Harry’s singing more evident in these moments, louder, as the footage flashed back into focus. The camera was, once again, being propped up on a table. At Y/N’s head on either side stood Anne who was still holding her daughter-in-law’s hand, while Harry stood, back to the camera, mostly blocking the view of his wife as one hand stroked her hair and the other held her hand. The doctors could be heard saying, “Deep breath” before Y/N took a deep breath in, bringing her legs to her chest with the help of a few nurses that could hardly be seen, bearing down and pushing as the nurses counted and Harry said, “Great job, love. Keep going. You’re so strong.”

The screen went black. A doctor’s voice was heard saying, “One more big push.” Y/N could be heard taking a deep breath, and a little exasperated yelp before gasping from both Harry and Anne followed by the beautiful, gurgling cry of their baby. Harry’s sweet singing voice in the background of the video got louder and finally, the video came back into view of a little name card on the bassinet that read:

Name: P, Styles.

DOB: March 18th

Weight: 6 lbs 12 oz

Height: 20 inches

Time: 8:39 PM

The camera panned down to the top of a blue baby cap with a white embroidered ‘P’ in the center, moving as their son wiggled in his bassinet, the hushed reassuring whispers of his parents heard just behind the camera as little lip-smacking and coos could be heard from the baby.

The screen went blank as the song started to end and white words appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to the world, Baby P. We love you to the ends of the earth.

Love,

Mummy and Daddy”

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Taglist:

@odetostep , @thurhomish

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles dad #dad!harry #pregnant #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles smut #harry #one direction #1d

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midnightsnyx · 4 years ago

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Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: epilogue

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

a/n: this is the end! i don’t even know where to start! i wanna say sorry real quick for how long its taken me to post the epilogue. i just wanted it to be as perfect as i could manage for you guys!

i want to thank every single person from the bottom of my heart who read this little series i wrote and took the time to like, reblog or send me a message! it truly means to world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as i did writing it.

so thank you all, so, so, so much!

also, here is a poll that @hannahmb did up for me because im literally a grandma when it comes to some stuff and it’s ideas for the next series im going to write.

anyways i’ll stop rambling now lol

- allie

Epilogue

“Henry Eli Tkachuk!” You yell. “Get your little butt down here right now.”

The patter of tiny feet echos through the hallway and you watch your five-year-old slide into the kitchen, nearly crashing into the wall. He’s as clumsy as his father, which you didn’t think was possible.

He looks at you curiously, eyebrow raised and hands on his hips - the spitting image of Matt.

“Yes, mama?”

You point to a plate of cupcakes on the countertop. “There were twenty cupcakes here ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah.”

“There are only fifteen now.” You raise an eyebrow. “Do you know what that means?”

“That someone was hungry?”

“Henry.”

“Mama.”

“Who ate the cupcakes?”

He shrugs his shoulders and giggles before running off towards his bedroom. It’s possible that he ate them but there are seven other people in the house who could have. You can eliminate at least three, maybe four out of the seven which is why you find yourself calling out to your husband and his other half. Unlike Henry, Matt actually crashes into the wall when he comes running down the hallway. Though to be fair, you’re pretty certain that Brady pushed him.

“Yes, dear?”

“The cupcakes.” You raise an eyebrow, eyes darting between the two Tkachuk brothers standing in front of you. “Who ate them?”

“Not me,” Brady says, hands raised defensively.

“I didn’t either!” Matt says and you’re pretty sure that one of them is lying but then Johnny walks into the kitchen, two cupcakes in one of his hands, and is taking a bite out of another one.

“Dude, these are-”

“Johnny!” The three of you exclaim at the same time.

“What?” He mumbles around a mouthful. “They were just sitting there.”

“They are for Nell’s birthday!”

“Ellie’s birthday party is today?” He asks in confusion and you sigh, shaking your head. Why did you think it was a good idea to invite a bunch of constantly hungry hockey players to your three-year-olds party?

“Everyone, out.” You say, waving your hand dismissively. They all clear out with the exception of your husband who slowly walks towards you.

“Will you hit me if I touch you?” He jokes and you roll your eyes but let him wrap you in a warm hug. The two of you have come a long way, you’re the perfect epitome of enemies to lovers story but you wouldn’t change anything. Especially because of what you’ve gained along the journey.

“How’s the bun in the oven?” He asks and you pull away, raising an eyebrow.

“I hope you mean the baby and not Eleanor's birthday cake because I think it may have burned.”

His eyes widen and he rushes over to the oven, pulling the cake out. Luckily, you caught it in time and there’s only a little black on top that can be brushed off.

“Why didn’t you just order one from the store?” He asks, picking up a cupcake and taking a bite. You sigh, realizing that you’re going to have to make more due to the fact that everyone is eating them.

“Homemade cakes are the best.” You answer quietly and he just nods his head, not questioning the vagueness of your answer.

“Attention everyone! I found a wild child in the backyard!” Brady calls, walking in the kitchen with your toddler sitting on his shoulders. She’s laughing loudly, clinging onto his hair.

Curls as wild as Matt’s and eyes just as blue, Eleanor Ruth Tkachuk graced the world with her presence 3 years ago. After Henry, you weren’t sure you wanted more than one kid because life with just him and Matthew was absolutely perfect but you didn’t know that it could get even better until she arrived.

“There’s my princess!” Matt says, taking Nell from Brady. She happily goes with him, grabbing a hold of his hair too. You watch your husband wince but the look of pure love in his eyes when he looks at her isn’t like anything you’ve ever seen.

“Warrior Princess.” Brady corrects and Matthew nods seriously.

“Daddy, cake!” She squeals, pointing to the cupcakes and reaching towards them. Matthew spins around and starts walking away to get her attention off them. “Let’s go find nana.”

You watch the two of them walk outside, hand unconsciously resting on your belly. Baby number three was kind of an accident. You and Matt weren’t exactly trying for another but you weren’t doing anything to stop it. You both decided that if anything was meant to happen, it would. And it did, obviously but you weren’t surprised because you’re pretty sure Matt secretly wants an army of Tkachuk’s due to the number of times you’d had sex before you became pregnant again.

But it didn’t bother you, the idea of a bunch of mini you and Matt’s running around. It certainly wasn’t something you really envisioned in your future and you never realized how much you really wanted a family until after Matt.

“How’s Brady Jr.?”

You grin at Brady who’s leaning against the counter.

“Still not named Brady Jr.,” you say, starting to get the cake ready to be decorated. “But he’s doing great.”

Brady smiles and opens his mouth to say something but Chantal walks in the room, cutting him off.

“Honey, go help your father finish decorating.” She says, shooing him out of the room before starting to help you get the last of the food ready. The two of you work efficiently and in silence, something you’re used to when getting things done with Chantal’s help. You’ll never be able to thank her for everything she’s done for you since she came into your life. Being with Matt meant gaining an entire family who was the most tight-knit, caring, and encouraging family you’ve ever known.

They didn’t have to accept you as easily and quickly as they did and you’ll always be grateful for them.

. . .

Long after the birthday party settles down after the kids are asleep, Henry curled up with his head in your lap and Nell tucked in Matt’s arms, and all the adults sitting around the fire pit in the backyard, you take a minute to reflect on how much your life has changed in the last six years. Longer, if you count how long you’ve actually known Matt. You never would have guessed that this is where life would have led you, how crossing paths with Matt changed you as a person, and changed your entire world forever.

How you learned, loved, and gained so much in these past years.

How lucky you are.

“What are you thinking about?” Matt whispers, nudging you gently. You turn to look at him, his eyes warm and smile gentle.

“You. Us.”

“All good things, I hope?” He jokes and you smile, pulling him close so that you can kiss him softly.

“Always.”

#matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #calgary flames imagines #calgary flames fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #allies writing #consequences series #matthew tkachuk imagine

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years ago

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Party Jitters

Pairing: Bakugou x anxious reader

Warnings: SWORE (also some anxiety but it’s not too intense. Maybe a bit of bullying, but it’s not really directly to y/n)

Author’s Note:

So this is the first request I’ve ever completed (🎉✨✨🎇) and I’m pretty proud of it! I started out having this go in a completely different direction and I got pretty far along until I decided it wasn’t really the vibe I was going for, so I stopped and started over. I might post the original later (either I’ll finish it up or just as the wip it is) but idk. Tell me if you want it, I guess? Idk, I might just post it anyway bc I do that sometimes.

Anyway, huge thank you to @bozowrites for sending in this request! I hope it fit something along the lines of what you were thinking!

Enjoy!

-Sugar

⋘ ────────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ───────── ⋙

Oh, if only you knew how you had gotten yourself into this situation now

Except you did know, and it was all your own damn fault

You hated parties. You knew you hated parties; but in a moment of unjustified courage, you had convinced yourself that it was a good idea to get out there more

A friend from your middle school was throwing a get-together for your previous grade, and you thought it might be nice to see some of the kids you’d grown up with

You’d done yourself up with a different hair style and moderately more formal clothes than you wore normally, even convincing your boyfriend to come along with you

But oh, no. This was not good. The furthest thing from a good idea, if you asked your present self

It was as if only now you remembered that there weren’t many people there that you cared to see

You were at someone’s house, music blaring and lights dimmed

Katsuki had wandered off to get you both an age-appropriate beverage, and now you were standing alone in a corner

You spotted the group of kids who used to throw rude comments at you. To be honest, they were pretty rude to everyone, yet somehow they were still considered popular

That was all a whole year ago. We’re in different schools now, it doesn’t matter

Nevertheless, it felt like they wouldn’t stop looking over at you. You swore that one of the girls leaning over to whisper something in her friend’s ear was without a doubt talking about you

What could be wrong with you? You smoothed your top, wondering if you’d somehow magically changed into something else; something out of place and stupid

It felt like any minute they would come over and try to talk to you, even though you’d barely talked to anyone at all the entire time you were here

You felt like an outsider, which was ridiculous, since this was your old class

But no, there it was; the sick, nauseous feeling you were all too unpleasantly acquainted with

You wanted to run, but you’d made all the effort to come here. Where was Bakugou? You couldn’t ditch him

You tapped your fingers against your thigh to the rhythm of the music; a song you’d never heard before

This had been a mistake; a bad idea, and now your throat was starting to close up, the distant beginnings of tears prickling in the corners of your eyes

“Oi.”

Your eyes snapped up from the floor, fearing the worst for a moment

Theywerehere, theywouldtalktoyou, theywouldteaseyou—

Bakugou stood next to you, holding two cups of lemonade

“Here.” He handed you the plastic drink container, and you took it with shaking hands

“Something wrong?” Katsuki asked, noticing

You went to shake your head, but finally thought better of it

“I don’t think I want to be here,” you admitted, sipping at your overly sugary drink

Bakugou scanned your face, setting his cup down on the floor next to the wall beside him

“Did something happen?” he asked, cupping your face in one of his large, strong hands

“No, I just . . . I’m sorry I dragged you here. This isn’t what I thought it would be.”

Bakugou shrugged, pulling you closer into him. “I’m glad I came. Otherwise you’d be here alone.”

You simply nodded, taking a deep breath to right yourself. “I’m glad you’re here too.”

Katsuki slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Wanna get going?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take you to my place and we can watch a movie or something. This party’s lame anyway.”

You chuckled. “That’s not very nice.”

“It’s the truth. Now let’s go.”

He pulled you to the center of the room, nearing the crowd of popular kids you’d been watching before

“Hey, is that Bakugou Katsuki?”

“The slime monster kid?”

“No, the one from the sports festival.”

“Same person, dipshit.”

Your boyfriend froze at the sound of his name, slowly turning to glare at your former peers

“What about me?” he questioned, gruff voice easily heard over the sound of the music

“Just wondering what you were doing here,” one of the girls said, giving him an overly pretty and practiced smile. “You didn’t go to this school.”

“No, I didn’t, but I’m leaving your dumb party anyway.”

He started to walk off again, but that was when they spotted you behind him

“(Y/N)?!”

“Did you bring him here?”

“Is he supposed to be your boyfriend or something?”

You swallowed heavily, averting your eyes and walking faster, only to bump into Katsuki’s back

He had stilled in his path, a shadow crossing his eyes. You knew that look, that dangerous expression on his face. Bakugou was little more than a ticking time bomb, and your former classmates had just set him off

He slowly turned again to face them, and you could feel the palm clutching yours growing hotter in its grasp

“Have a problem with her? Or do you have a problem with me?” he asked, voice too low, too quiet

The same girl scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s just that someone like her? With someone like you? You know what I mean, right guys?”

She snickered, turning back to her friends, who had now turned their full attention to the both of you

You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen Katsuki so angry, which was saying a lot, since he was outraged about something nearly all the time

Trying to prevent him from doing something he’d regret, you tugged at his shirtsleeve

He glanced back at you, face softening the tiniest of fractions

Balling his opposite fist, he walked back to the girl who’d called him out, pointing a finger in her face

“(Y/N) is my girlfriend and I love her, got it? I don’t need the opinions of shitty extras like you on my goddamn relationship. Just get the fuck out of my way and don’t talk to us again.”

With that, he went back to walking out, pulling you behind him in tow. He easily cleared a path for the both of you, yelling when someone wouldn’t move out of the way fast enough

When you were finally outside, he started walking you to the train station so he could take you home

“Don’t listen to those extras,” he finally said. Bakugou slowed down his pace and relaxed his grip on your hand, letting you settle comfortably into step beside him

“We do make quite the couple,” you remarked

He looked over at you, letting his face fall into the smallest of smiles. “Maybe tonight was kind of a shitshow, but you best believe that it won’t last.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m the best boyfriend there ever was, and I know how to show my girlfriend a good time.”

You grinned, hugging him from the side as you walked. “You most certainly are.” Maybe it wasn’t always a good idea to inflate the blond’s ego, but you couldn’t help but be forever grateful for how he had impacted your life

When it came down to it, Katsuki would always show how much he cared, whether it was in your defense or simply getting you through a tough day

By the time you’d gotten off the train, all your worries had slipped from your mind, walking hand in hand in the moonlit darkness to spend the night at your boyfriend’s home

⋘ ────────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ───────── ⋙

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @pyrofanatic @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

#bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou bnha #katsuki bakugou bnha #bakugou katsuki bnha #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou scenario #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #sugar scen

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bitchassbucky · 4 years ago

Text

.eps (cut)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning/s: dark!bucky x dark!reader, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood mention, gore and dismemberment, murder, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, sedation/drugging/use of sedative, stockholm syndrome-ish, one very special character reveal

A/N: this version of the epilogue is the 'clean cut' - there's a good chunk of it missing but it's not particularly important to the story. if you want to read the EXPLICIT version, there should be another one uploaded at the same time. (sorry, this is scheduled so i don't have the link yet lol)

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Safeness, comfortability, warmth are all but a false sense of reality.

When a prey takes down its walls, the predator moves in. Camouflaged in familiar colors, in words that you’re used to hearing, in praises, in lies. Most predators use the mask of the night to move in darkness—unyielding and calculated. Come morning, there will be only one left alive, tainted with victory and bloodshed.

You and Bucky have been engaging in a dance for two—a battle of who’s willing to take the leap of faith and unleash hell upon the other.

Stifled smiles and pursed lips.

The air is filled with unsaid irritants, little things that ticked away like bombs.

There was no time for pleading, no time for mercy, no rest for the wicked.

Did you still love each other?

How far are you willing to go to keep up with his… complacency?

Bucky’s mundane life already taking a toll on you. The endless nightmares of him feeling you. The swirling vision of Bucky being with you every waking—and sleeping—moment: it grates your soul to shreds.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“What about the day after forever?”

“That too, honey.”

Where was the man you loved so deeply? The man that broke his morals just to be with you?

Was he under this hull of a Yes Man? A poor little thing that says ��yes’ to everything like a puppy.

The man you held so dearly now slipping away, chipping his humanity, shedding the once-human.

“Would you marry me tomorrow if I asked you?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you kill for me?”

“I’m meant to do the same for you.”

It’s irritating how Bucky gave up too quickly. Too fast, moving too fast. The gazelle let the lion tear its neck as it lay there, unmoving, letting the blood seep into its hide.

When you first met Bucky, it was your own fairytale unfolding before your eyes. Kismet, reality, forgiveness from above. He was soft and shy, passionate, lively.

Far from what you expected from a man his age—you blame Steve for forcing you into his narrative before. That all men are out to get you. They will hurt you. They will use you and leave you for good. But Bucky? Bucky came in like a knight. He saved you from the carcass of your past. He saved you from the sins that you prayed and knelt for.

Bucky taught you how to love.

Bucky taught you how to live for yourself.

Bucky taught you that being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.

“It was an unspoken little thing, wasn’t it?”

“What thing, baby?”

“Our love.”

“Yes, honey, it was.”

He worships you.

He worships you like a fucking God and you hate it.

Suffocating, too suffocating. You dove straight for the water and now you’re drowning.

Do you still love each other? The question hangs in the air, heavy with its weight, light as a feather.

It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.

You stand there with a syringe half-filled with a horse sedative. It’s a concern how easy it is to waltz into a pet store and pick up a general anesthetic. You make a mental note to look at it later.

Bucky’s body slumps forward, his forehead meeting the edge of the table with a dull thud. If the overdose doesn’t kill him, the weeping crack in his head will.

Holy fuck, humans bleed a lot. And fast. Good thing you already have that clear tarp taped down. Even with the hush money stuffed down your throat, it would take a good nick to regrout the kitchen.

“What is that for, honey?”

“I’m painting the cabinets.”

“Okay, darling.”

So you let him bleed, surprised that the liquid is redder than what you thought it would be. A soft gurgling noise came from Bucky, the last of air escaping his dead body. You stood there, syringe in hand, as you thought how to dispose of a six-foot-tall man without arousing suspicion.

Not that he’ll be missed anyway: the local news and the internet already branded him as a psycho and you as a victim. You were both victims in this fairytale. They reported his case as “skipped the town like the sicko he is.” So, no—no one’s going to look for him.

The sun was high up in the sky and there was a dead body in your kitchen.

A butcher and a surgeon walk into a bar for a drink. “What do you do for a living?” Said the butcher, “I save lives! What about you?” The doctor answers. “I save animals from dying slowly. We’re basically the same. You’re just very clean.” You see, the butcher comes into the bar covered in blood, reeking of death. The surgeon, on the other hand, wears his white coat with pride even though he’s surrounded by death every passing second.

Today was the day you learned that you have the tools of a butcher and the precision of a surgeon. Unlike before.

You carefully take Bucky’s fingers off of his left hand, leaving a skin flap on the edge of the last knuckle for you to stitch close later. Four promises. Four goddamn promises and he broke all of them.

It was his fault that he’s dead. He made you do this.

Placing the body into the trunk of a rental, you begin your journey to the end of your fairytale. Off to the woods, where you buried your first love. In a town where not everyone who dies leaves.

The drive to and from the place was tiring, to say the least. The internet connection of the diners was spotty at best. Locals were overly friendly with the city folks who came passing through their towns. The roads reek of roadkill and manure from the farm animals that were left to roam for fresh grass.

At least you get to come home in a spotless apartment, alone once again.

But not lonely.

Your space is yours again. No trace of anyone anywhere. Immaculately yours.

—

Humans are social creatures.

No one can truly be alone, especially in today’s world where we’re connected to everyone—whether we liked it or not.

Leaving your wretched job behind was an easy feat to do. No one can say no to the victim of such a vile crime. That’s all they saw you: a helpless little thing. So off you went; saying half-assed goodbyes and sending emails of courage and hope and fucking resilience.

Your resignation meant that the company’s free of any dirt from you, Bucky’s disappearance quickly becoming a joke and a rumor blending in one.

They let you leave: in your bank account a fat check ensuring that you’d shut up about the scandal for months until you can’t feed yourself no more. So you packed your bags and jet off without looking back. You never liked that apartment anyway.

Nevertheless, you found yourself looking into another dead-end job in one of the towns you stopped over before. It’s a charming place like time froze in their plaza while the rest of the world went on. You found a small studio apartment in a street tuckered away from the main avenue, you settled there as days became nights and nights turned into days.

You woke up one morning craving a healthy serving of coffee and pancakes, luckily the town’s local diner wasn’t far from your new home.

The coffee was too hot, the pancakes were amazing, fluffy, and just right. You’re sitting in a sunny booth, the warmth doing its wonders.

“Hi, can I get today’s paper, please?” Your voice is sweet as you call your server, giving her a quick smile.

A pair of Raybans adorn your face, unconsciously hiding behind its darkened glasses. The waitress gives you a thick stack of newspapers, refilling your cup with black coffee.

Upon opening the paper, you ignore the town’s headlines and go straight for the job postings. The door jingled open as patrons come in and go, waving to familiar faces.

Job Vacancy Announcements

Secretary to the Town Sheriff

You skimmed over the rest of the details, only noting the address of the office. The job looks quite lucrative for someone who would only take messages and organize files for the sheriff.

Looking over the job posting again, you read over the words walk-ins only. That shouldn’t be hard enough.

The diner looked deserted save from the man sitting behind your booth. Leaning over and tapping his shoulder, you put on a polite smile, “Hi, sorry, do you know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here?”

“Hello, darling.” The man croons in an accent, he looks over to you, “join me in my booth, will ‘ya?”

You’re in no position to reject his proposal, you’re the one who needed an answer.

Taking your coffee cup, you slide into his booth, “hi.”

“Just the face I wanted to see.” Clean-shaven, a hint of mint and smoke, and something woody; a worn leather jacket and white button-up shirt hugging his soft frame. “Some folks over on the apartment complex were talkin’ about a city girl wanting to rent a studio all by herself. That happen to be you?”

You look over to him, trying to understand how that small of news spread like a wildfire, “yeah. I moved in a week ago.”

He leans over, smiling sweetly as he unabashedly lets his eyes roam your features, “What’s a city girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I hope we ain’t too boring for you, gal.”

Chatty—he’s way too chatty.

“Just wanted a change of pace, really. Away from the bustle of the city.” You rustle the paper, clearing your throat to get back on the matter on hand, “so the sheriff’s office? Is it too far from here?”

“What business are ‘ya bringing into the office?”

“A job, actually. Says here that they’re looking for a secretary.” You might as well tell him everything, he seems too chatty to be dismissed over and over again.

“Well, darlin’, today’s your lucky day. No need to drive down the old road.” He reaches down to his seat, pulling up a brown hat, “Hi, I’m Sheriff Bodecker. Now, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You bite back a giggle, you’ve always wanted to be involved with the law.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff

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ghostbustermelanieking · 4 years ago

Text

northern bound trains

(or: i didn't write anything for valentine's day so i'm reposting my safehouse fic in honor of the holiday lol)

jonmartin fic, set post 159, complete with angsty pining with a happy ending. this can also be found here at ao3.

Martin rides with Jon to the train station. It isn’t as if Basira is going to see him off, not with everything that has happened with Daisy and the police… someone has to stay back and explain. And, well, Martin insisted. Said he shouldn’t have to go there alone. “Nothing worse than leaving on a trip with no one to send you off,” he’d said. Jon had nodded, gratefully, and swallowed back the burning lump of what he wanted to say— Come with me, come to Scotland, I don’t want to leave you alone again. He kept hearing Martin’s words in his head: I really loved you . And he couldn’t ask Martin to do that, to leave his whole life and everything behind to become a fugitive, cower in Scotland and throw his whole life away. It’s too much. And Martin has already sacrificed so much for him.

He’ll be content with Martin seeing him off. That can be enough. That will be enough.

Jon keeps ahold of his hand in the back of the cab, the whole way there. He doesn’t want to let go. Call him a coward, or selfish, and you'd probably be right, but he came so close to losing Martin forever, and he has to leave again in a few minutes. He held Martin's hand the whole way out of the Lonely, his fingers icy between Jon's. And Martin didn't let go. They came out in the tunnels and Martin leaned into him like he was tired, his forehead tipped against Jon's shoulder. They didn't let go until Basira found them there. He doesn't want to leave Martin alone. He doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't know if he can do that. And then he's holding onto Martin's hand tighter, holding it in both of his, and Martin's looking towards him with concern and saying, "Everything all right?"

Jon pushes the thought from his head, steels his shoulders and says, "Yes, of course." Basira will take care of Martin and Martin will take care of Basira, and they'll both be fine without him. Better, even, like Melanie and Georgie. He tells himself that as he takes one hand away, and he tries to move the other, but Martin doesn't let go when he does, and Jon pretends he isn't grateful.

They make the station within twenty minutes of the next train's departing time and have to more or less run to make it. A bit of a haul with the bag Jon packed from the things he had at the Institute, but they make it in time. "Oh, good," Martin says, panting a bit, when they stop at the platform and the train is still there. "I… was worried you wouldn't make it."

There's an odd sort of tone in his voice that Jon can't read—maybe he wants Jon to leave, is looking forward to it? But then he remembers Martin's face in the Lonely, when he broke through, how tightly he'd hugged Jon back, and Jon pushes the thought away. Not positive thinking. Georgie would tell him to have a better outlook on things if she was still talking to him. "Well," he says quietly, setting the suitcase by his feet, "here we are."

"Here we are," Martin says quietly. He's still got Jon's hand; he tugs it towards him insistently. "Stay safe, all right? Don't do anything reckless on the way up there. That'd be just your luck—run into a Darkness monster or something."

"That would be my luck," Jon says dryly, and Martin laughs a little. He laughs, too, clears his throat and adds (because it feels important), "I hate leaving you all behind here. If something happens…"

"You don't need to worry about that," says Martin. "All you need to worry about is getting to safety, all right?"

"But after everything with… with Elias, and t-the Hunters… it doesn't feel right to leave you and Basira in the thick of this."

"Jon, c'mon, we've been over this. Basira told you to go. It's the best thing for you to do. You're not allowed to feel guilty about this, all right? I'm serious."

Martin looks stern in an unserious sort of way, and something aches deep in Jon's chest. He squeezes Martin's hand so he won't do something more, like ask to kiss him or ask him to come along. "All right," he says. "But you… you've got to tell me if something happens. Promise me that, at least. I don't want anything like this to happen to you again." The past few days have passed in such a rush that it feels like no time has really passed at all, and he can still remember the sick panic that seized him when he heard the tape of Lukas telling Martin he wouldn't be coming back. Of finding Martin gone because Lukas had taken him, the period when he thought he wouldn't be able to get him back. He won't let that happen again, not to Martin or to any of them.

Martin takes a shaky breath, and for a moment, Jon worries he might cry. But all he says is, "Okay. I promise," and that is enough.

Jon swallows hard, nods. Checks his watch and relaxes a bit when he sees seven minutes before departure. He'd hoped for more time; seven minutes is enough time to talk for a bit more, even if it doesn't feel like any time at all. But Martin sees him do it and says, "Oh, uh, I—y-you should get onto the train now. So you don't miss it."

Jon swallows hard and says, "Right." Damn it. He isn't ready to get on, isn't ready to walk away and leave Martin alone again. The words bubble up in his throat— Come with me, please —but he still can't say them. He'd asked Martin to run away with him before, and Martin had said no; he has to respect that.

Martin will be fine. He will be. Martin is strong and resilient, a million times stronger than Jon ever has been. He doesn't need Jon. Jon has to believe that he'll be all right.

"Jon," Martin says quietly, and his voice is strange again. "I don't… I don't know how to thank you. For… coming for me. For getting me out of there."

There's things Jon should stay here. Of course I'd come for you, or I wouldn't have left you alone there or You don't need to thank me. But all he can manage is, "Martin." And then they're pushing towards each other, Jon's arms folding tight around him, the two of them clinging together on this train platform surrounded by dozens of people. He's not sure how long they stand there like that; he doesn't want to let go.

Finally, Martin says, "You… you should catch your train, Jon," in a choked up voice. "Don't want to miss it."

Jon takes a deep breath, counts to five in his head before saying, "Right," and slipping his arms out from around Martin.

Martin shoves up his glasses to rub briefly at his eyes; he must be exhausted. "I'll… write to you," he says. "Or call with updates, or… both, I dunno. Always thought it was nice to get letters."

"I'll write to you, too," Jon says. Next best thing to actually having Martin there, as long as he gets to talk to him. As long as there's something beside this long silence over all these months. Maybe he could write some poetry of his own—but no, that's ridiculous, he's never written poetry a day in his life, and Martin wouldn't want that anyway. Doesn't think of him like that.

"Oh. All right." Martin rubs at his eyes again with his sleeve, as if they itch or something. Jon looks at the train, then back at Martin. He doesn't want to go. But Martin says, "Off you go, then," in a thick voice, and Jon nods, and then he's climbing onto the train. He convinces himself not to look back.

He waits until he's seated, in a seat by the window, to look back. He doesn't Look—he wouldn't do that, he swore he wouldn't Look for his friends unless they were in danger, he doesn't want to invade Martin's privacy, and he won't do it. He looks out the window instead, like regular people do, fully expecting to not see Martin there. But Martin is still there, on the platform, wringing his hands as he looks at the train. Seeing him off, as it were. Literally, even.

Jon has to wipe his own eyes, then, pretend he isn't crying a bit. He swallows hard and leans his head against the window and watches Martin through the glass until the train pulls away from the station.

---

Martin stands at the platform for too long after Jon's train leaves, watching the empty tracks. About as pathetic as you can get. His hands are freezing, so he keeps them in his pockets, and he watches for fog and listens for the churn of the ocean, but there's nothing there. Just the pressing crowd of the train platforms. Other trains come and go, but of course, Jon's train doesn't come back.

He's safe, he tells himself, over and over again. He's safe, and that's all that matters, isn't it? That's why you did what you did with Peter. You did it, you saved him. And he couldn't have gone with Jon, anyway.

Three trains come before Martin stands up from the platform and walks towards the cab stand. To go home, he supposes, or go back to the Institute. Basira could probably use the company, too, after Daisy. (Except he and Basira have never really been that close, and Melanie has gotten away, and his mum is gone, and Jon's gone too, now, and here he is, alone again…)

Martin takes a sharp breath and shakes his head. He won't let that happen again, he won't, it's not going to happen again. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, desperate for something to fill the empty spaces in his head. His first instinct, looking at his phone screen, is to call Jon. Looking at the seventeen missed calls from Jon, from when he was gone with Lukas. But he can't—Jon just left, that's ridiculous. So he calls Basira instead, just to check in. Just to hear someone's voice.

She picks up sounding frantic, with that hard edge Basira usually has in her voice. "Martin? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing's wrong," Martin says quickly, pushing up his glasses to wipe his eyes again. He's sick of the crying, it's leaving his glasses all fogged and blotchy. Probably sounds like something is wrong. "Just… wanted to check in. Are you all right?"

Basira sighs. "I… yeah. Fine. I've been… I've been looking for Daisy." She sighs again, sharply, and says, "Jon's off, then?"

"Yes. Yes, he left about… forty minutes ago." Martin checks his watch uselessly; he knows how long it's been. How long he spent on that platform imagining himself chasing after the train like he's in some movie—ridiculous. How long he sat there wishing he'd just gone along. "Everything seemed all right. Nothing… nothing off about it."

"Good," says Basira. "And… you? What are you going to do, Martin?"

Martin knows what he should say. Things like I'm going to go and get some sleep, or I'll come and help search for Daisy , or I'm going to find Elias, I'm going to end this before it goes any further, before he hurts any of us ever again. But he doesn't say any of that. He says what he wants to say, without even thinking about it, the words tumbling out of his mouth almost involuntarily. His fingers tighten around the phone, like it is the only thing that is holding him up, and he blurts, "I'm going with him."

Silence on the other end. "What?" Basira says, finally. "I thought… You said he was already gone."

"He is. I'll—I'll get the next train, I'll figure it out. I… I have to do this, Basira."

He says this in a rush, like he's defending himself. Like he's expecting Basira to argue. But all she does is sigh again and say, "All right. Sure. I should've known something like this would happen, with you two."

Martin searches for the words for a moment, turning back towards the station, towards the place where Jon left. He could be there in just a few moments, headed for Jon, going after him. "You… you won't need me here?"

"No. No, Martin, we've done well enough without you these past few months."

Martin flinches, fingers tightening around the phone, and he's ready to say something in response—maybe in apology, maybe in defense of himself, he isn't sure—but before he can, Basira says, "Shit. Just—forget I said that. I know why you did what you did, Jon told me. Just… just go on, all right? Do what you need to do. I'll… I'll just be looking for Daisy. I can call when I have news, about the… the police and everything."

Martin takes a shaky breath, bending nearly in half. "Okay," he says. "Okay." The reality of what he's doing is solidifying, somewhere by the lump in his throat. He doesn't want to be alone again. And he doesn't think he'd be alone if he stayed; if nothing else, he has Basira, and maybe Melanie if she'll talk to him. But it's not just that. It's not just about being with anyone. He wants to be with Jon. Right now, he wants to be with Jon.

"Go get a train or… whatever. Keep Jon from doing anything stupid, when you get there," Basira says sternly.

"Okay," Martin says again. "I… thank you, Basira."

"Don't thank me. You do what you need to do." There's a bit of a silence again, before Basira finishes with, "Stay safe." And then she hangs up. Martin hears the beep in his ear.

He slides the phone in his pocket and takes a few deep breaths. Walks to the ticket booth and gets a ticket on the next train to Inverness.

No time to go home and pack, so Martin goes back and sits on the same bench to wait for the train, huddling up in his coat. It's nearly as cold here as the Lonely. He'll have to stop and buy some things; he doesn't think any of Jon's things will fit him. He tries to picture what Daisy's house must look like. Jon says it's near the ocean; he hopes it isn't like the Lonely. He doesn't think it will be, especially not with Jon there.

Martin rests his head against a concrete post and resists the urge to let his eyes slide shut. He takes out his phone again to call Jon, just to let him know. Doesn't want to just show up on Jon's doorstep with no warning, especially if Jon would rather him not be there at all. (He doesn't think Jon will be opposed to him coming—well, he can't be sure, but he guesses not. Jon did follow him into the Lonely, after all, pulled him out and held his hand, and if nothing else, Martin thinks they could both use a friend. And if Jon doesn't want him to come, if his voice is full of stiff politeness that masks any conflicting feelings he might have, well, Martin will get a cab home before he's actually en route there. It's as simple as that.)

He listens to the phone ring and ring, but Jon doesn't pick up. Maybe his phone is dead. Or maybe it's too soon to call. Or maybe Jon is avoiding him…

Martin sighs and ends the call. No use lingering over that. Basira has texted him Daisy's address, so he'll be able to find the house either way. He saves the text and turns off the phone to save the battery, and boards the train as soon as it arrives, thinking only of arriving in Scotland and of finding his way to Jon. Jon found him, followed him into a lonely hell and saved him, and now it's Martin's turn to search for him, even if it's just in Scotland. He can keep Jon safe, keep him company; they can take care of each other. Be there for each other. That's all Martin really wants.

---

Jon wakes up several hours into the journey and finds his phone dead. He Knows, then, exactly where his charger is, curled up on his cot beside his pillow, and he feels stupid for not thinking to bring it. There goes any chance he has of talking to Martin or Basira on the trip up. He'll have to get a new charger in Inverness.

There's very little to do on the train, and lucky him, he's also forgotten any books to read. Or any statements. He isn't hungry or anything yet—Peter Lukas's statement might keep him going for a while now—but that might prove to be a problem later. (Jon wonders, briefly, if this is an excuse to ask Martin to come down here with him—but no, that's ridiculous, Martin shouldn't have to trek all the way to Scotland to deliver statements.) So, nothing to do. He spends some time watching out the window, and the scenery is nice, but even that gets tedious after a while.

He tries to write a letter to Martin—it seems like it's too soon, but he's got nothing better to do, and he can mail it in Inverness if he sends it now. (And besides that, he misses Martin, even now. Saved him and went right back to missing him.) But everything he writes is all wrong, things he couldn't possibly send. Dear Martin, I miss you. Dear Martin, There's so much I want to tell you about, so much I wanted to tell you when you were gone. I should have told you everything while you were still there to tell. Dear Martin, I am so sorry I treated you so badly for such a long time. Dear Martin, I'm so sorry I didn't come for you sooner. Martin, come to Scotland. Martin, I still want to run away with you. I never stopped wanting that. He folds more than one letter up and shoves it away in his suitcase so he won't have to look at them. (A part of him can't really bear to throw them away.)

Jon goes back to watching out the window. There's a fog settling over the rolling green hills outside that instinctively makes him think of the Lonely. (Martin's hands had been freezing when Jon pulled him out of the fog. He spent half the walk out trying to rub warmth back into them.) He Knows it isn't the same, though; it's just normal fog, it's a rainy day. It's chilling and beautiful all at once. It makes Jon think of walking down a cold beach shouting Martin's name, Martin turning away in the fog, and he has to look away.

He starts composing another letter in his head without even thinking about it. Dear Martin, It's chilly here, but the scenery is beautiful. I think you'd like all the hills and the trees and the fields of flowers, all that green. You don't see that in London. It feels like something you might write poetry about, if you still write poetry. I wish you were here to see it, too. I wish you were here with me.

---

Martin doesn't sleep on the train for a long time. He's too anxious, knees rattling against the seat in front of him until the man inhabiting it gives him a dirty look. He's brought nothing with him, nothing to do, so he's left with more or less digging through his pockets to see what he has besides his wallet and phone. There's a couple pens; he kept carrying pens even after he fell out of the habit of jotting things or turns of phrase he liked down. He finds some crumpled statements Peter wanted him to read deep in one coat pocket and is instantly relieved; he figures Jon will need statements, and he's never read these far as Martin can tell. It's not a long term solution, there's only three of them crumpled all to bits, they'll have to figure something else out, but Martin realized twenty minutes after Jon left that they hadn't sent Jon with anything for sustenance, and this seemed like it was better than nothing. He should've asked Basira to send some; he'll ask the next time he talks to her. And in the meantime, at the very least, if Jon doesn't want to see him and sends him off, Martin will be able to deliver some statements so Jon doesn't starve to death.

Martin doesn't think Jon will send him away. It doesn't make any sense that he would, not after he pulled Martin out of the Lonely. They're friends; Martin is sure of that. It doesn't make sense for Jon to save him and then turn him away. But Martin can't break the anxiety that leaves him worried that Jon won't want him there. That he'll have traveled all that way for nothing. It's entirely possible; if anything, Jon has earned some peace and quiet, some solitude. He doesn't need Martin's problems mucking it all up. But maybe… maybe he'll want a friend. Maybe he won't want to be alone either. He… he did ask Martin to come with him, after all, both of them blind themselves and leave the Institute and go live a happy life. And Martin had said no.

Martin tries not to think about it. He spends some time looking out the window, watching the countryside flit by. There's fog gathering up on the hill, floating down towards the train, and Martin has to look away after a while. He keeps reliving the moment when Peter yanked him into the Lonely, how blank and trudging everything was until Jon found him. He never wants to feel that empty again.

Eventually he does fall asleep, hands knotted in his lap, head against the window. His dreams are full of fog and salt-air and the endless gray ocean. The ocean's never looked like that when he's been in real life.

When he wakes up, he feels cold all over, shivering in his seat. He reaches for the memory of Jon in the Lonely, embracing him at the shoreline, until he feels warm again.

---

It's mid-afternoon when Jon's train arrives in Inverness. He's got about an hour and a half drive to Daisy's house, a bit of a haul after the hours he's spent traveling. He doesn't have the energy to shop before he drives out there; there's a village closer to the house where he can buy things, anyway. Jon doesn't want to do any of it; he just wants to get to the house and crawl into the bed and sleep so that he doesn't have to think about any of this. Doesn't have to relive the attack on the Institute, Basira and Daisy disappearing behind him, Martin being lost, Georgie turning away from him, Lukas ripping apart in the Lonely. Martin coming back to himself, the two of them hugging on the shoreline. Martin standing on the platform while Jon's train pulls away.

Jon doesn't want to think about it, and so he buys a phone charger from one of the stores in the train station and plans to call and check in tomorrow. Call Basira for practicality; call Martin just to talk. He wants to talk to Martin; he hopes Martin will want to talk to him. He goes and rents a small car that won't take too much petrol, and he puts his one small bag in the boot, and he starts the long drive out to Daisy's. He Knows the way without having to check. The route isn't far from the sea; he can look out over the ocean sometimes. Remind himself of childhood, of the better moments in childhood. He hopes it will remind him of the moment when Martin came back to himself, not the moment when he left Martin behind.

Hours later, over half a day later, and Jon still can't believe that he's left Martin behind. It was the best decision, it was the right thing to do, it seemed like the right thing to do. He was in danger and he shouldn't hang that all on Martin. Shouldn't press Martin into following him when there was nothing to gain and maybe everything to lose. But Martin was alone before this, left behind when Tim died and Sasha died and his mother died and Jon sort-of died. Alone and willing to throw everything away to keep them all safe. Willing to make himself even more alone. And Jon had followed him, Jon had brought him back. And now he's just going to leave? Leave Martin behind, alone again, like nothing's happened. After Jon's spent months wanting Martin to be there. After Jon asked Martin to leave with him. This was their chance, and Jon was too much of a coward to take it. Didn't want to ask Martin because Martin didn't love him anymore, but even if Martin didn't love him like that, they were still friends, and Martin still went into the Lonely for him, and Jon went in after him, and then Jon left him again. It's horrible, it's cowardly and horrible and Martin deserves better. Martin deserves so much better.

And that's when Jon decides: he's going back. He's going back to get Martin, even if it is dangerous, he doesn't care if it puts him in danger if it saves Martin. If it keeps him from being Lonely. He'll go back and get Martin and ask him to come to Scotland, and if Martin says yes, they can come back together, hide out here and experience peace for the first time in years, maybe, or face whatever comes together. Basira can come too, if she wants, if it's safer in Scotland than London, and if neither of them want to come, then Jon will come back on his own, he'll do that, it's fine. If he's lucky, though, Martin will want to come back with him, and they'll be here to keep each other company. It's a good plan, a good one. Worse comes to worse, Martin won't want to come and Jon will have made a ridiculous round trip for nothing, but it seems like a risk worth taking. Not like he's got much better to do.

Jon turns the car around, right then. Right then. He'll go and catch a train right now, ride all the way back, no use in waiting. It's not as if anyone is waiting at Daisy's. No time like the present, and besides that, he doesn't want to wait any longer. He wants to see Martin. He wants to see him so badly—even though it has been less than a day since they saw each other, even then, he still misses Martin as badly as he has all these months. Like air.

Jon drives too fast the whole way back to the station.

---

Jon won't be at the station when Martin's train arrives. Martin knows this. He does. But a small part of him is still disappointed that no one will be there when he gets off the train. He used to take the train up to visit his grandmother for the summer when he was little, at his mother's insistence ( I can certainly get help around the house, Martin, don't be ridiculous, the quiet will do us both good ), and he'd always enjoyed the summers, but the rides home would be awful, knowing when he got back he'd take a cab home alone and his mother would say, simply, So you're back then, when he walked in the house. He used to daydream about having someone meet him at the train station someday, but he grew up and got jobs and stopped visiting his grandmother, and then he stopped taking trains anywhere.

He knows that won't happen today; Jon doesn't even know he's coming, and how could he know? Martin knows Jon is trying not to Know; he told Martin that while they were waiting for the cab to the train station, and Martin's grateful for that. He doesn't expect that. He'll get a car or something out to Daisy's, and hope that Jon doesn't want him to leave, and that will be enough. It will be. All that matters is that he's come here, and he's going to see Jon in a few hours, even if it's brief.

The train arrives, and Martin gets caught up in the press of people trying to get off the train, fumbling with his suitcase. It's crowded and a bit choking; the people pressing in on either side of Martin is some of the more direct human contact he's had in months. It takes a moment for him to steady his breathing, pushing his way off the train and to a spot where he can stand alone. He wipes sweaty palms against his jumper and tries to breathe deeply, reminds himself that he is out of the Lonely, that he isn't alone anymore. Relives all the little moments where he's been touched since he got out of the Lonely, mostly by Jon. He'll see Jon in a few hours. He's here and it's all going to be fine.

There's voices all around him, talking in that way that all sort of blurs together to a long buzz, and Martin doesn't bother trying to listen. No one looking for him, after all. But then, over the din of the people on the platform, Martin suddenly hears it: the rising sound of someone calling his name. " Martin? " the voice says, familiar, achingly familiar and incredulous, and then again, louder: " Martin! "

Martin whirls around, searching for the source of the voice, calling out in disbelief, " Jon? "

There he is, pushing his way through the crowd, and he must spot Martin because his face does something funny, and then he's moving towards Martin, and tears are burning in Martin's eyes, and he shouts, "Jon!" right back. And then Jon's there, and he's throwing his arms around Martin, crashing into him so hard that Martin stumbles back a step or two.

Martin doesn't mind. He embraces Jon right back, knots his hands in the back of Jon's shirt and presses his face into Jon's hair. "Martin," Jon says muffledly, mouth moving somewhere against Martin's collarbone. "Martin, you're—you're here ." He sounds like he can't believe it, even with his face mashed against the front of Martin's jumper. "I didn't think—" he starts, and then seems to change his mind mid-sentence and says, again, "You're here ."

Martin nods. His glasses are fogging up, shoved up on his forehead, and he's probably holding Jon too hard, but that doesn't seem possible because Jon is holding him just as tightly, a hand tangled in his hair. "I didn't…" he starts, and then changes his mind mid-sentence. "I missed you," he says instead. "I wanted to come. I missed you, Jon."

Jon takes a sharp breath. His head tilts abruptly so he and Martin are nose to nose, his hand suddenly warm on Martin's cheek. Martin's crying; he thinks Jon is crying, too. And then Jon is kissing him, tentative at first, deep and messy and sweet, in a way that Martin can't remember having been kissed before in his life.

Martin's breath catches in his throat and he tugs Jon forward by the hem of his jumper, even though there's barely any space between them anyway. Kisses Jon like he's wanted to for years. He's thinking, absently, of the moment where he heard that Jon had woken up, and he'd had to go and lock himself in the bathroom and cry, hands over his mouth so Peter wouldn't hear. Thinking only of going to the hospital to hold Jon's hand, to hug him and tell him how happy he was that Jon was all right. He's thinking of when Jon asked him to leave with him, and Martin had said no and it had felt right, but the gap had opened up as soon as Jon had left and he'd wanted to go after him, run after Jon and say of course he'd go with him, he'd follow him anywhere. Go after him and kiss him like this. It's been so long. He never quite thought they'd get here.

Jon pulls away slowly, breathing a little unsteadily, whispers, "Is this… is this all right?" Martin says, "Yes, god, yes," and kisses him again. Softer this time, slower, the kind you can really melt into. They have time now. They have time.

When Jon pulls back again, it's not all the way; he rocks his forehead forward against Martin, warm together, and they don't move for a long moment. Martin reaches between them for Jon's hand and Jon takes it, holding on tight. Martin blinks back tears, keeps his eyes shut, lost in the thick of it, so it takes him a minute to realize that Jon is speaking. Saying, "I'm so sorry," in a thick voice. "I'm so sorry, Martin."

"Don't apologize, " Martin says, his voice breaking, and he pulls Jon's hand up to kiss the back of it. Jon's face screws up, full of some emotion Martin isn't sure of, and he shakes his head. "Don't apologize," Martin says again, almost worriedly. "I don't—why are you…"

"I should have asked you to come," says Jon. "I… wanted to ask you to come. So badly. I wanted to… I was afraid you wouldn't want to. Or that I would be overstepping. And I'm sorry."

Martin chuckles, stunned and self-deprecating and maybe even in disbelief. Tugs Jon closer to wrap his arms around him tighter. "I wanted to come," he says softly. "Pictured myself… chasing after your train or some ridiculous shit like that. I wanted to. I should have… said something." He chuckles again, slowly. "I'm an idiot."

Jon laughs, too, and the sound is almost surprising. He squeezes Martin's hand. "I think we've both been idiots, Martin," he says quietly. "At least a little bit."

"A bit, yes," Martin whispers, kissing Jon's fingers again. Jon shivers a little, tugs Martin to the side. They end up on another bench, at another train station, leaning into each other like they're going to fall over. Looking out over the train tracks. Another train arrives and leaves. Neither of them are on it. Martin is glad. He doesn't want to be anywhere else.

"You… came to get me," says Martin, after a long moment. Jon's got Martin's hand in both of his, their fingers a jumbled mess on Jon's knees, and he only seems to hold it tighter at that. Martin clears his throat, a little awkward, leans his head against Jon's. "Did you… Know I was coming?"

"No, I didn't," says Jon, apology thick in his tone. "I didn't want to… I try not to Look for anyone anymore. I told you that. And… my phone is dead. I didn't get your calls. I didn't… I came back to—to get a train for myself. Back to London. To… to ask you to come back with me."

Martin makes a shocked sound, muffled by his free hand. "You… you were coming to London? To get me?" he says, the words squashed under his hand and the disbelief. "You'd taken the train all this way and you were coming back? "

"Yes. Well, I." Jon sounds almost embarrassed, pressing his face into Martin's shoulder. "It seemed like the thing to do. And I… I wanted to see you. I… I've missed you so much, Martin."

Martin laughs, shaky and teary. "I'm not… I'm not making fun. Much. Since we both had the same exact farfetched, ridiculous idea. I just… can't believe you would do that."

"I'm not known for wise decisions, Martin. It just… it occurred to me and I knew I had to do it. I know it's ridiculous." Jon's voice goes suddenly soft around the edges, quiet, as he adds, "And anyways, yours… yours, at least, was romantic. Mine was just poorly thought out."

"Oh, Christ, Jon, don't be telling me yours wasn't," says Martin, his stomach twisting at the word romantic. (Not a bad twisting. Not at all.) "I can't believe you would… you've already done so much for me."

"I'd do it all again," Jon says, earnestly, squeezing Martin's hand again. "Every bit of it. I would." He must learn forward a bit, his head falls against Martin's again. He says, "I-I'm so glad you're here, Martin."

Martin takes an unsteady breath, scrubs at his eyes with his free hand and shuts them again. Tries to stifle a wobbly smile until he can't anymore. "I-I'm here," he says shakily. "I am. And I'm not planning on leaving anytime soon."

Jon must be crying, too; Martin can hear him sniffling. He shifts a little on the bench, sits up and turns towards Martin, keeping ahold of Martin's hand and wiping his own eyes with his other hand. "Th-there's only one bed at the house, Martin," he says quietly. "Just the one. Is… is that all right?"

Martin takes a sharp breath, looking at Jon, whole and alive and in front of him with nothing to tear them apart, at least not anytime soon. He's thinking of white starch sheets and hospital rooms and Jon's cold hands, moaning coffins and the smell of dirt, late nights in the office before the Unknowing and the surprising softness in Jon's eyes when they'd talk sometimes, the stunned hurt in Jon's eyes when Martin had to turn away from him in the halls or close the doors, or say no to running away, escaping with him. He's thinking of early mornings and warm comforters and cool sheets and tea, first thing, of holding Jon's hand under the covers, of going to bed together at night and turning out the light and not having to be alone. Neither of them being alone again.

"Yes," Martin says, and this time, he doesn't bother to hold back the smile. Jon smiles, too, uncertain like he isn't sure how to do it. But it's as real as anything Martin's ever seen. "Yes, that's all right."

#tma fic #jonmartin #the magnus archives #tma #jm #i wrote this

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sunsetcurve · 4 years ago

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so...the last year has been rough. for everyone. but i’ve been lucky in a lot of ways, especially with the people in my life, and i wanted to take a second to thank some people on here. because genuinely, you guys mean so freaking much to me. i’ve had a lot of online friends in my life but none that feel so much like family. these are the people who have carried me through the last year, who’ve made me feel seen and heard and supported me in all my endeavors and just been wonderful to me all around. i love you guys, and happy new year <3

i’m about to get into it now. and i’ll try not to cry too much along the way.

@neshatriumphs nesha, when i say that you’re our fandom mom i mean that you’re my family, i mean that you’re my biggest supporter, my inspiration, my rock, the person who makes me want to be my best self, all the time. i can’t explain to you what your support has meant to me over the years. whether it’s leaving me incredibly kind notes on my fics that make me want to write more just for you, or sending me asks when you know i’m feeling down, or just making me laugh with your hilarious takes, you have always, always been there for me. you’re the toughest person i know and you make me want to keep pushing every day. you’re so incredibly talented; your ideas are just always stunning and inspired and despite being humble about it you’re amazing at everything you do. your art, your writing, your aesthetics, all of it. loeg and share-a-lair were just spectacular and such a show of how complex and original and smart your writing is. barring just your talent you’re also an inspiration in how passionate and kind and dedicated you are. you care for others everywhere you go. you come on here and constantly make me want to be a better person. it’s not just me, either—you’ve taken on the role of helping all of us in any way you can, and you just make us feel loved and supported and give us someone to always look up to. i love you. plain and simple, you’re my family, and i’m so, so grateful to have you in my life.

@juliesdahlias you know when you meet someone younger than you and you’re like how do they have this much talent in their body? and you can’t even be mad about it because you just want to root for them and you want good things for them and you think of them like a little sibling? that’s me around you all. the freaking. time. pearl, i’m constantly blown away by how smart and driven and passionate you are. you have so much talent to offer the world and i love seeing you thrive more than anything. you inspire me every freaking day; i mean, your tiara thief drabbles literally made me pull my fic out of my drafts for the first time in months. every time you post it’s something iconic and beautiful, whether its your fics or your edits or your headcanons. and not just that, but you’re so incredibly supportive of everything i put out there. like with ths, the way you latched on to it and are one of our biggest fans and made content for it literally as soon as we started!! that was amazing!! you’re just such an incredible person in every sense of the word; you’re talented and hilarious and kind and passionate and i love you so so much. i cannot wait to watch you do amazing things because i know you’re gonna be one of the greats. ily.

@ciara-knightly i can’t even put this into words. i’m sitting here trying to say it right and every time i start i just turn into “!!!!!!!!” cause i love you so much. i know i’ve said this before, but shona, you’re honestly like my older sister. this whole year of just, really getting to talk to you beyond tumblr has shown me how honestly kind, passionate, smart, and supportive you are. talking to you is one of my favorite things in the world, whether it’s rambling about tiara thief, or discussing feminism in media, or just getting life advice. you always know what to say to lead me in the right direction and reassure me that things are gonna be okay. i look up to you more than i can tell you; i’m constantly inspired by your talent and your drive. you’re endlessly supportive and you make me laugh all the time, and i hold literally every convo we have close to my chest because it means so much to me to just be able to have them with you. i’ll never be over the fact that you basically discovered jatp, or us talking and making predictions for weeks before it aired, or us plotting out the whole dystopia novel together—which, even though it didn’t really pan out, was such an amazing experience because i got to do it with you. and i absolutely scroll back through our convos on a regular basis to scream over our tiara thief headcanons. everything i’ve done with you has been incredibly fun and meaningful, so what i’m trying to say in this very long winded way is that i’m so, so glad i know you, and i can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me.

@bitchmilsky lizzie, i literally think of you like you’re my little sibling. my weird, crazy, hilarious, incredibly kind and supportive and creative and amazing little sibling. ever since i met you you’ve been nothing but fun and friendly and wonderful to me. your posts never fail to make me laugh and i love seeing whatever you’re up to, even if it’s video games that i understand nothing about. you have so many fun ideas and you’re so freely yourself, it’s honestly inspiring. the things you make are always adorable and every time we go live together and chat i always have so much fun, and talking and i just want to meet you in person so badly because i know we’d be an amazing, unstoppable duo and that you’d make me laugh until my sides hurt. i’m still waiting on that cross-country road trip. we could roll the windows down and belt our way through the entire hd musical soundtrack, and it would be epic. for real, though, you’re one of my favorite people ever, and i hope this year brings you nothing but fun and good things because that’s what you deserve. i’m sending you a million virtual hugs and also booty shorts that say poggers on the ass. i love you <3

@zackmartn i know i’m gonna start crying right now because i love you so much and i’m trying not to because i just did my makeup but dammit, nikki, i just love you so much. i remember when i first came on here and was afraid to talk to you because i was like “ohmygod she’s so cool she’s the king of this fandom she’s amazing” but i thank god that you reached out to me every day. i honestly can’t imagine my life without you; you’ve been such a presence in it for so long that you’re inseparable from it. even the times i’ve gone on hiatus i’ve been stalking your blog from a distance like “i just wanna know what she’s up to...”. you’re honestly like an older sister to me and you’re one of the people i admire the most; you’ve been through and continue to go through so much and yet every day you come on here and decide to be a freaking light to all of us, to make me smile, to support me literally endlessly. like, the amount of times you’ve driven me to near tears from your reviews of my writing is ridiculous. the freaking umana fan club?? the way ths is one of your top tags??? it’s just...insane and such a show of how boundless your support is. and that’s not even getting into how freaking talented you are!!! i stare at your gifsets all the time!! and your fics like....holy shit you literally created this whole universe that i’m so freaking invested in and is better than literally anything that canon could ever do, and i know i’m honestly terrible at responding to messages but i hope you know you never have to start holding back with me. most of the time when i get stuff you send i have to sit there and get my thoughts together and that takes forever, but i love love love reading it anyway. the way you get excited about the things you love is everything, it’s something that i really really love about you, and i hope you continue to keep that passion and love for everything. and i hope that this year brings you nothing but good things, because you deserve that more than anyone. i love you.

@willexs eliza, babe, i know we joke all the time that we were put on opposite sides of the ocean because we’d be too powerful if we were together but i really think it’s true. imagine us meeting. the universe just wouldn’t be able to handle it; it would implode. listen, you’re literally like my twin, my other half. we have so much in common that it’s honestly ridiculous. we operate on the same brainwave, and every time we talk i’m blown away by how easy it is and i honestly love it so much because i could not have picked a more talented and creative and fun person to work with. writing ths with you has literally been like...one of my favorite writing experiences ever. i can’t believe that it started on such a whim because it’s such an important part of my life now and getting to have you next to me while we figure this whole thing out is honestly the best part. it’s not just all the characters and dynamics we’ve created, it’s the fact that i can send you incoherent ramblings at ungodly hours and you’ll pick them apart, it’s the 3-hour phone calls to make playlists, it’s you always making me feel heard and inspiring me. it’s this like...excitement of building towards something amazing with someone i love. you understand me on this crazy and fundamental level, and sometimes it blows my mind how similar we are and how well you know me without us having even met. i feel like we’re the embodiment of “nobody gets me like you”. and i know i’ve said this before, but i really do think you make me a better writer. i love how you make me laugh, i love that you always have the best takes and i love how talented you are with your incredible adorable art and your fics and your gorgeous edits and i love that we egg each other on and hype each other up. i love that, despite being on opposite sides of the ocean, we’re still best friends. and i love you <3

@cactus-con lou!!!!!! i literally just...ahh i love you so much!! i know i’ve said this before but you were the first person i talked to in this fandom, and you made me feel so freaking welcome. and that has never changed. talking to you is so easy and natural, and you make me feel loved and heard all the time. i love getting to share stuff with you because you always always always hype me up. not just that but like...your talent?? literally unmatched!!! you’re amazing at everything you do it’s ridiculous. i love love love all your artwork, i could stare at it literally all day. you have so much talent and i literally cannot wait to watch you do such great things with it. i just...you’re such a wonderful person to everyone around you. you spread all this love and support and kindness and i think you’re one of the most genuine people i know and i’m so so glad i know you. i hope this year treats you so well because you deserve nothing but good things. i love you. <3

@owenjoyners where do i even start?? brooke, you’re like my other twin. i know i’ve said this before but it’s literally insane to me that we’ve known each other for less than a year because it feels like i’ve known you my whole life. you are such an incredible freaking person. you’re funny and you’re kind and you’re talented and you make me smile every damn day. i love getting post notifs from you because i swear to god i light up every time. your gifsets are always gorgeous, and i’ve watched you learn and improve and you’ve gotten so good, it makes me so happy every time. your art??? you say you’re just starting out but i can’t even tell you how much i love it. your fics!!! you’re good at everything and it’s honestly ridiculous. and it’s not even about your consistently amazing posts, i also just...i love talking to you more than anything, even if we’re just simping over owen together. you make me laugh all the time and you always hype me up; you’ve let me ramble about my fics and helped me get my ideas together, you’ve talked stupid life stuff like school and college with me, and you’ve given me someone to go to whenever i need it. i think of you as one of my best friends and i can’t get over how fast we clicked or how easy it is to talk to you. i need you to come visit me so i can give you so many hugs and we can have a sleepover and talk for literally hours on end. in the meantime, we need to call again sometime because that was honestly so much fun. i love you with all my heart.

and some people i want to say thank you to, because even though we don’t talk as often as i’d like you’re still amazing, and you make me smile all the time, and i love seeing you on my dash or in my notes: @taylorswiftrulestheworld @onplanetmars @dr-rigatoni @swellviews-finest @symphonic-concert @molinasmercer

#nikki tag! 💛#lizzie tag! 💜#nobody gets me like you tag ❣️#nesha tag! 💟#brooke tag! 💙#lou tag! 💚#shona tag! 🌟#heather tag!#otter tag!#jamie tag!#k tag!#faith tag!#monisha tag!#pearl tag! 💖

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indimlights · 4 years ago

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✨Merry christmas Cille✨

To: @birthdaysentiment 💛

-> From: @indimlights (Rodrigo)

Hi Cille! I guess it's up to me to kick off this "little" surprise but I don't even know where to start...

I remember really well the first time I saw a post of yours, I was still lurking back then and the moment I read it I felt so many things, things I don't know how to describe and that I never thought words could make me feel and I knew, I just knew that I had to see more. Fast-forward a couple of hours I knew your blog by heart, I had looked at so many of your posts and every single one was as amazing as the first one, as touching as the first one and as deep as the first one.

The meaning you put on words still gets to me every single day, you have such a way into them and don't even get me started on your music analysis. The moment I read the first one I was mind-blown! The things you catch, the connections you make between the music and the scene, the way you describe the scenes, it makes me go back, relive the moment and feel everything I felt the first time I watched it and all this just by... reading your words! If that doesn't tell me how amazing you are with them I don't know what will.

From that day I always wished I could talk to you, get to know the person behind the words, behind the masterpieces, behind the blog because you seemed like such a sweet person and now... After some time, I got that chance and I'm so happy I got it. You are everything I thought you would be and 1000x more, you are sweet, caring, smart, loving, wise, joyful and so supportive to me and to everyone in this community! You always spread love and that's so important and so nice of you to do, the way you write essays in the tags for everyone's posts just shows that! It's such a simple thing but means so much.

And I'm not even mentioning how talented you are with non-written posts because those are on another level aswell, I mean you always surprise me with your ideas and creativity and just knowing that whenever I come here I will have some sort of attack waiting for me just keeps me going and I love everything you do so much.

I'll never be able to thank you enough for being so welcoming when I barely knew anyone and for making me feel so much more comfortable here! Getting to know you better and to share this experience with someone like you has been a blessing and I wouldn't change any second of it, thank you for everything you have done and for always being so sweet to me. I don't understand what I did to deserve all that but that just shows again how wonderful you are.

I'm wishing you a merry christmas! Surrounded by everyone you love and that makes you happy because you deserve that and so much more, please never change, never stop being like this, a special and wonderful person. I hope you enjoy this surprise :) Have a wonderful day Cille 💛

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-> From: @remy3010 (Remy)

Hihi Cille❤ I love your blog so much especially music analysis! I just fall in love with your music analysis since your first posts.

For me whose mother tongue is not English, it takes a while to read but I'd love to. Because these articles deserve more people to see (including me)！

I have read every article of yours, the content touches me all the time. (Sometimes I have a lot of words want to tell you, But I don’t know how to speak in English..sorry🥺so I give❤ and reblog)

Anyway, thank you for writing beautiful words and sharing with us! I hope you can keep this passion forever, and everything go well. May you have wonderful days my friend ❤

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-> From: @franboos (Francine)

hi bb cille,

wanted to tell u that i love u blog and the time u put into analyzing stuff is shhshdhdhdhd. queen shit. u seen so genuine to talk to idk, i get those nice, non judgmental, relaxed and cool vibes from u. lmao. pls stay on tumblr for as long as u can cuz i love ur posts. u notice such little things in clips from wtfock, like u have a very detailed eye miss hehe. i really want to get to know u more cuz i really think we could vibe v well together, and that’s on perioood 😌. i hope u have a great great day while reading this queen. never stop what you’re doing cuz ur great at it. i love you !!

many kusjes and knuffels*,

fran

(*knuffels means hugs but also stuffed animal in dutch, did u know that? otherwise now u do, nice isn’t it)

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-> From: @dagcutie (Pauline)

hey hey cille!!

I must admit i’m very much a fan of you and your blog

first of all, your posts? chefs kiss!! i mean your music analysis are amazing and so on point, your photo edits are always perfect and the colorings are so beautiful, your long text posts 'drabble/headcanon style' are so cute and always makes me so soft and emotional...

your love for black and white? that’s a big yes!! anyways everything you do is perfect!!

also can we take a moment to appreciate your person? i think we can and we must do it..

you’re always so supportive and kind, all the nice tags you let under peoples creations are so sweet!! I also could cry about how cute you are always leaving lovely messages to people inbox or coming randomly to them to say something nice.. you’re the most beautiful soul and a blessing for this fandom!! please never stop being you!! ily a lot, sending you all my love and i wish you an amazing day<3

knus og kys til dig💛✨

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-> From: @allee-sander (Tanya)

Cille, you are an amazing person. you are so kind and loving. every time i see you on my dash, my face lights up. you are a literal angel. you are loved and appreciated, never forget that.

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-> From: @tsjernobyl (Emma)

Cille, you are a genuinely kind and loving soul who's just on this site to talk about the things you love and spread a little joy and everyone can tell that the moment they go onto your blog. i've seen you be nothing but lovely to everyone you interact with and it's a real honor to be mutuals with you and interact from time to time. You are always one of the sweetest and most supportive people here, and i hope you feel that love flowing back to you at all times because you always have my warmest wishes and love!!!!!

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-> From: @dreamaur (Ann)

How does it feel to be so cool and sweet and supportive??? I love you and your mind and how you see so many details and capture them so well with words,,,queen keep going with your top tier analysis and text posts that make me emotional everything single time

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-> From: @annonymannonym (Alice)

Where do I even begin ummm ... well words may not be enough to describe such angelic human being that Cille is but today is about her *about you Cille* !♡! Honestly I’m so so happy and honoured and so grateful to have meet and know you and come along your blog and your amazing posts and edits , let’s s not forget about the masterpiece that your analysis is cuz I live for every single one of them ! Always so on point and touchy and so so emotionally, they give you a whole new perspective and point of view and helps you connect with the person that goes throught those feelings , helping you understand so much deeper the feelings and the emotions he experience in that right moment( so thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking your time and writing these it really shows how much passion and love you put on making these! they absolute helped me to understand and feel much more the meaning behind all these little moments you captured so so well and wonderful ! ) You’re always such a blessing here so lovely friendly so goodhearted and sooo on ... < insert here all the good compliments in the world > cuz they all applies to you ! Know that you’re so special and such a light a sunshine wherever you are and go , you always spread so much positivity and good energy and love and compassion and you support every single people your way comes along with and you shown so much respect and love and understanding ! Always with a wise and thoughtful mind and with the right words at you using them with so much care and mining fullness ! And your blog i love love love it the b&w aesthetic and your love for it owns my heart !! I adore your posts so much ( or ramblings or thoughts as you may call them but know they are so so much more than that its a way of yours to express yourself and open up and pour every feeling you experience and many people found themselves and feel with you , I find myself in them and resonate with them every time ! ahh and your tags that you write in every post are sooo sweet and cute i could read them all day long just coming on your blog and read them makes my day so much better ) they are such a good way to brighten your day and they put a smile on my face whenever i see you on my dash truly a blessing to have you here! Never forget how unique and special human being you are and every one who has you in their lives are very blessed to have you ! Never change being this beautiful inside and out but most importantly inside ! literally a tresure your soul is and must be protected at all cost so take very good care of it ! Don’t forget to always do what makes you happy and gives joy and peace and just you know that good feeling you have in your chest and heart whenever you do something you love and like with passion and joy. I could say so much more but maybe I’ll repeat myself cuz there are never enough compliments to say about how wonderful person you are! you deserve every single one of them ! I really meant every word i said from the bottom of my heart and know that i really apreciate and love all you do and I’ll be here to support you anytime! You deserve the absolute world and more!! love you Cille! ♡ Okey bye✿

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-> From: @robbesdriesen (Bianca)

Cille ~ such a lovely presence to see on my dash always!! Your support towards everyone in the fandom is more than appreciated and so is your love that you continuously aim to spread <3

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-> From: @happilyinsane (Dharaa)

Hey Cille 💕

Just wanted to say that I think you are really sweet and lovely. I see you everywhere on the tumblr. Wanna thank you for keeping this fandom alive during the drought and keep us entertained. I see your tags on people's posts and I always feel like you are so kind and sweet to spend your time appreciating people's work. Doesn't matter if its a photo or an edit or whatever. You are so nice to pay attention to everyone individually. You are such a good friend/mutual, always appreciating and sliding into their asks and just making their day a lil bit better. You definitely bring so many smiles on our faces. I am sure everyone is very thankful to have you in this fandom, I know I am.

I know we haven't interacted that much but thank you for sliding into my asks and giving me an opportunity to interact with you. You are the sweetest, baby. And I hope you like this whole thing that Rodrigo is doing, because you definitely deserve it. Keep lighting up our dashes with your posts, pls. Ilysm 💕

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-> From: @alwaysaneverland (Sarah)

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-> From: @theflowerisblue (Lola)

Cille! You’re such a present part of the tag! You’re always interacting and posting and I love reading what you have to say. Your music analysis are so interesting and I also think you’re really funny! I love your black and white aesthetic and most of all I love how supportive and positive you’re towards everyone!

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-> From: @fvae (Fae)

hi cille!! I'm really glad to have met you through this fandom and I hope you like the surprise!! I loved to read your song analysis because they're always on point and well thought of👌 💯 and your edits!! *chef's kiss*

sending you lots of love and hugs 💕💖💫

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-> From: @embeddedinmybrain (Tasfia)

Hi Cille! You are just a ray of sunshine!! And you are the sweetest and kindest person here. I loved following through with your wtfock music analysis posts bc everything you felt is exactly what I felt. They made me really emotional!! And of course I (and Sarah and Fae) appreciate your tags for moyo season so much. We wait for them and we read them to each other and we just love seeing your reactions to it. Your edits are incredibly amazing too and I love the colouring in them. You are just an amazing sweetheart and I’m so glad to know you 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕

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-> From: @veerledejaegers (Soph)

Cille, you are very friendly and sweet, always insightful and seem like an incredibly lovely person that i hope i can get to know better ❤️(also love the black and white aesthetic)

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-> From: @sanderxrobbee (Semri)

Cilleeeeeeeeeeee loml!!!! Merry Christmas to you! I genuinely wish you all the best and I hope you get to spend all the holidays in the best way possible! You’re such a blessing to this fandom because you’re talented in every single way, whether it’s your writing or your godly Photoshop skills, oh and let’s not forget your dedication because you’re there all the time to brighten our days and make us smile. I haven’t known you for long, but I truly love and appreciate all you do and I’m grateful that you always take the time to compliment everything and everyone. You have no idea how much it makes me smile when you say my gifs are good because I’ve yet to learn a lot, but you are seriously one of the biggest reasons I haven’t given up the second something got too complicated. Where am I going with this? No idea. Anyway, I adore the fuck out of you and I’m happy to take part in this “project” because you really deserve all the love in the world. Once again, happy holidays!

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-> From: @hopelessromanticvirgo (Elene)

Talking about you Cille is making me always so emotional but I will try my best not to burst out from love and emotions. You’re one of the sweetest person here and I will never get tired of saying that.

We haven’t talked that much directly but I don’t need that to know you’re one of the greatest person here, I just know that for sure. I’m also sure about it because I can see the way you treat people? Even speaking about your tags? Like you take the time out of your day to make sure everybody gets love and everybody gets attention. You make all of us smile and I adore your tags on my stories. You can’t even imagine how many times I have reread your posts about it, like I crave it, I’m in love with it, it makes me feel so happy and so loved and I’m certain that everybody else feels the same way too. You always know how to make everybody’s day better and how to make them feel special.

And please, don’t even get me started on your posts! Your song analysis. Like I know I’ve told you this thousands of times before but I don’t care, I’m saying it again! The way you pictured and described all those songs and scenes!!! Like wow! I’d always reread your posts about that one specific scene after rewatching the season countless of times. (And you also did so many scenes!! I’m in awe and I’m emo from just thinking about it)

Watching clips were different but reading them with lyrics were a whole other thing. I just felt so connected with the whole story and scenes when I’d ready your posts. And connect scenes with the music and it was the best thing ever. Sometimes I still go back and reread some of my favorite posts of yours. I never get tired of it.

And you’re so kind and so sweet that I could write essays about it! Such a blessing to this world! I just love you a lot okay? Everybody needs somebody like you, somebody who shines from kindness and love and people around you must be so lucky who get to meet you everyday and talk to you!

Thank you so much for everything you do, for being you and for making my day better and making me smile every time you reblog my posts or every time I just see your username on my dashboard! It’s such a small gesture but means so much!

Thank you for existing, babe! I hope you’re gonna have a wonderful day! And I’m sending you the biggest hug and my positive vibes! I hope a smile never leaves your face! And I only wish the best things up onto you! I love you! ❤️❤️❤️

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-> From: @itubainaretro (Esther)

Cille, my queen!!! Hi, sweetheart! Just dropping by to say that I hope you’re having a good day, despite the situation that the world is in, and that you’re feeling happy, loved, cherished and warm today, because you’re you and you deserve to feel all the best feelings in the world! I wish you all the happiness in the world and that all your wishes come true too, because you sure deserve it! Thank you for being this amazing, inspiring, talented and sweet person that you are and that I’ve come to know a little bit in the past few months! I know we don’t exactly talk that much, but I want you to know that I love seeing you, your beautiful edits and your extremely heart warming “moments that live in my head rent free” posts on my dash daily! They all really make my days! Thank you for sharing your posts with us and making this fandom (and the world, honestly) a better place! You’re amazing and I’m really glad I pressed the follow button the day I did when I started following you! I hope this little message makes you smile today, babe! Best wishes and lots and lots of love,

Esther (itubainaretro) ♥️

PS: don’t forget to hydrate yourself, wear a mask and stay safe haha xxxx.

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-> From: @driesendotkom (Marie)

Dear cille,

the reason i‘m writing this is to simply say thank you. thank you for being such a stable part of the fandom. every time i go into the tag i know i will see you there and it makes me smile every time. i can’t tell you how many hours i spent reading every one of your song analysis. even now a year after season 3 ended i find myself going back to them now and then to reminisce and relive those moments all over again.

i also want to say thank you for being such a kind and welcoming person. you care so much about the people you are close to. you are so easy to talk to and you make the people around you feel comfortable instantly. you brought a little bit of hygge into my life and one more time i want to say thank you 💛

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-> From: @driesenrobbe (Becca)

my dear, sweet, cille! you never fail to make me smile and im beyond happy that we became mutuals! im sure i’ve already said this a million times before but you really do have the biggest heart and i couldn’t thank you enough for all the love and support you constantly share to everybody in the wtfock fandom. plus the talent you possess... girllllll i love seeing your edits and reading your posts (honestly your mind is just wowowowow, it’s on a whole other level of incredible and i hope you know just how wonderful you are). also the way you always write entire essays in the tags of other posts... like you really do take the time to make everyone feel so welcomed and loved, and I’m sending you an infinite amount of love and appreciation in return! you really are the sweetest, most caring person who deserves all the happiness in the world, an actual ray of sunshine! i hope you know how loved and cherished you are, and that good vibes are always being sent your way. Many hugs and kusjes, ilysm!!!! <3

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-> From: @mijnlief (Eline)

Dear Cille,

This year has been a weird one, but I do know that it has also been one of the best because of meeting you. In such a short time we became so close, and I am so grateful to have met you during these weird times. We are so alike in many ways and I love that so much. Our Skype conversations are my favorite and the essays you send me about my writing and just about me being me always make me feel happy and loved. You are the kindest and most generous person ever. I hope you know how special you are. I am so proud of you for everything you have achieved this year and for choosing yourself in situations where it got hard to make a choice in the first place. I know I tell you that everyday, but it doesn’t hurt to say it again right here. I hope this post makes you smile, because you deserve that so much for just being who you are. You bring happiness to all of my days and I can’t wait to hug you one day soon when everything in the world calms down again. I love you lots! 🧡 Eline

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-> From: @onzeziggy (Laurien)

My sweetest Cille, where do I even begin? I suggest we should just begin from the very beginning and I’m sorry in advance if this is going to be a long, sappy text! But now that I have the chance (shout out to Rodrigo) for saying everything I want, I’m not able to tell you how long this will take.

So Cille, I still remember very clearly the first time I saw your account appearing on my dash. It was a music analysis from one of the songs from season 3. I was so amazed by it, because I could imagine how much time it takes to make it and observe every little detail in a single clip. I immediately fell in love with the concept of it and one week later, when you posted another one, my mouth dropped to the floor. Another music analysis? From the same person? Who is she and how do I become her friend? After that second post, I immediately started following you and became your little fangirl. I don’t lie when I say I was waiting every week for a new update of your incredible music analysis nor when I say I loved every single one of them (and still do). I know I already said this a million times, but your words of telling what was going on in every clip, about the emotions present in them, and how the music blended all of it together… No one, and I mean no one could have done it any better! I will forever be grateful for those posts and I want to thank you once again for wanting to share them and your talent with us!

After the music analysis adventure, your picture edits catched my eye. I love them so so much and I also took some creation of it for making some myself. Still, I was this little fangirl, knowing your name is Cille, but also wanting to know so much more about the person behind one of my favorite blogs. And now, during this hiatus, I can say I’ve got to know you and I couldn’t be any happier about it! Starting with little comments in each other’s tags, having little chats in the comment sections to screaming about a possible drawing of Robbe from Sander on their one year anniversary. And look at us now, reblogging almost every post and writing essays in each other’s tags hahah! Honestly, it keeps me alive during these times and I’m so glad I can do this together with you! I live for your attacks! Aaaah now that I’m talking about an attack, the fact that you have a dimples post ready is making me so excited and I think about it every day! We both know what’s important in love and life and that’s Robbe’s dimples! But this right here shows once again what an amazing sweet person you are! No one on here has ever done anything like this for me before, so I can’t thank you enough for this and all the other things you did and still do for me! And the privilege I have to be able to call you my friend warms my heart <33

I’m going to end this with a little quote Robbe wrote in one of his Instagram posts. When I read it again a couple of days ago, I immediately thought of you and what we’ve been through together the last few weeks :’)) Once again, thank you so much for everything you do for me and for everyone here in this fandom and being the amazing person you are! You deserve the whole world for it!

“Sometimes it’s like we just met yesterday, but other days it seems like I already know you my whole life, I love you Cille!” <33

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I hope you enjoyed this💛 If you didn't know this community loved you yet (and I don't think that was possible), now you definetly do.

Extra: I'd like to thank once again everyone that took part it this surprise, you are all the sweetest for taking some time to write this and to help me with it! Thank you so so much✨

#Surprise!#Cille this is the least you deserve #but I'm so happy I got to do this #with the help of all this sweet people #I'm wishing you (and everyone) an amazing day!#and never forget that...#we all love you!

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archivedatl · 17 years ago

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Old Blogs

Howdy. I’ve noticed some concern over the loss of my old blogs here n’ there so I decided to post all of them in one large, comprehensive blog-a-verse. Hope this brings a smile to a few faces. Our Street Corners Keep Secrets This is me asking for a brick to be thrown through my window, a message attached that reads, "Why can’t you just wake up?" I am not a star, don’t look up to me in hopes of finding something more. That which is out of reach does not promise anyone a goddamn thing. Hope arises in possibility, but possiblity is fragmented and selfish, so don’t think for a second that I am safe ground to walk on. I will sink beneath the feet of a thousand travelling companions, and make ruin of any city’s foundations, because concrete and steel can never tell a soul how it feels. Our street corners keep secrets, and our road signs only suggest, never deciding for us, never knowing if the destination to which they lead, is where we truely belong. Life’s greatest tragedy is not that it will some day end, but that most of us just live to follow directions, and many times we end up totally lost. I am a landmine. Sometimes I break down so hard you can hear it, and when I can stand to come near it with means to repair, the chances of walking out unscathed are slim to none. I know because I’m one; a victim of second-hand breakdowns and bad impressions, made under intoxicated conditions with poorly lit expressions. And I regret not going back, I regret not missing flights, I regret not asking for more and taking chances that I can only hope will not be forgotten. My fingers are crossed.  I-O-U.  Now my telephone’s dead and I can’t stand to hold out like this, but I’m constantly checking myself so as not to be a burden. Anything too heavy eventually gets dropped, no matter the cost. Let me be light as a feather, but valued enough so as to remain in a back pocket, until those jeans need washing and I find my place on a bedside table, to be read aloud on nights when memories and prying needs return to haunt the foundations of this room.  Pick me up, Read me every now and then, I won’t disappoint. *I am* witty and engaging so bless me with attention, because I’m *dying* for attention *without* any means of telling *you*. I’ll talk the talk, you take care of the rest. What up thugs?  I’m alive and well, realizing how eternally grateful I am for everything going on in my life day by day... Its a lot like learning to walk - at least, that’s how I’d like to think of it. We’ve all been there, so I won’t waste your time painting a pretty picture of how it all goes down... I want to talk about other things... First and foremost, I’ve come to understand that as of late there have been a lot of people finding this little piece of my life tucked away on the web; moreso than usual, and for that reason, I’d like to extend my proverbial hand to anyone and everyone who may have something - anything to say to me. Thank you for taking an interest in who I am and what I’m attempting to do with my life. I am opening myself up, as much as possible, to anyone who may be interested. All I ask is that whoever you may be, wherever you may be, understand that I am only human - two hands, ten fingers, and a life... I’ve received a few messages from people, upset that I haven’t been able to respond to their previous comments or private messages, and who now probably think less of me for it. I hope this isn’t the case, but its bound to happen. What I’m saying is that I don’t live my life on the internet... I’m sorry if there’s a message I never got around to responding to... I’m just not that good at keeping up with reality, let alone a virtual one. I will, however, try harder from now on... And understand that even if I don’t respond, I probably have read your message. I don’t just clear my inbox and move on. Thats plain rude. :)  To all my good friends, the ones I should talk to more often, the ones I left back home, the ones I will never stop loving, thank you for still hugging me when I come home... I know I don’t always show it, but I’m forever indebted to you all for everything you’ve ever done for me...  That brings me to my second point. The closest friends you’ll ever have are the ones you’d take a bullet for, but they’re the ones you constantly feel you could put a bullet in as well. ;)  Think about that one.  That’s it for now. I can’t believe I’m up at 5:14am. Touring has made me an insomniac, but I feel fucking great.  Have a good one y’all,  Me Lawyers and Liars I am a liar. I am self absorbed. I am in this for me. I am seeking recognition. I am not concerned with politics. I am attempting to rise to the top. I am never going to forget my intentions. I am allowed to worry about my own life above the lives of others.  -------AFTER ALL---------  I am human. Part Deux: Colors, Sounds and Feather-Downs  Current mood: happy I had a long, goofy conversation several weeks ago with an interesting girl who I haven’t seen since, in a diner I have yet to revisit, but it stirred up some thoughts that I found pretty interesting. Maybe I’m just nuts. Anyhow, the discussion began on a simple basis; I inquired as to what her favorite color might be. She said she didn’t know. I replied, "How can you not know? Its a simple question." -- She paused, looking sort of surprised, as if someone had never pressed her for an answer before, and then replied, "Well... It changes... Today its yellow."  I didn’t know what to say... I didn’t understand.  How can your favorite color just change? What happened to yesterday’s favorite color? If, on a whim, something of such esteem and value can be replaced with another, then on what grounds was it ever of any more value to begin with? When I was little, my favorite color was green. It stayed that way, no matter what I said to be trendy at the time (IE. 8th grade was my "black is such a raw and expressive pigment" phase, but everyone goes through that shit.) As of late, I’ve become more partial to blue - Light blue in particular, but that’s not that important. My point is that something happened that caused me to send green packing, and to fall absolutely head-over-heels for blue. (Stay with me on this...) Now, such a dramatic change in attraction doesn’t just happen - I mean shit, I know we’re only talking about colors here, but this kind of switch-a-roo has only happened ONCE in my entire life. Green ---> Blue. Just like that. Must mean somthing, right? Pablo Picasso went through a "blue period", at which time he was broke and mourning the loss of a dear friend. There’s a similarity there somewhere. Please don’t get me wrong, I am by no means depressed, nor do I have any reason to be, but perhaps color - every, individual hue, represents to each of us a state of being, and in turn, helps us to deal with whatever it is we may be going through. I’m not talking mood-ring shit here. What I mean is that there are things - simple things - that without our knowing, mean the world to us and when they change, they change for our own good, because whether we like it or not, we are looking out for ourselves. We do it unconsciously - But we do it. We do it to stay happy and to stay alive... And above all else, that’s what matters. On this note, I’d like to attempt to make my point - Don’t throw yourself out on another’s whim. People change, as do intentions and as a result, consequences. Live for yourself - love those around you, but realize that they’ve got their own agendas. People will screw you - You will screw people... Green ---> Blue. Get it? I’m not sure I do... Always consider that your life will venture in new directions, but be aware that other’s will do the same, and in accordance, understand that to be happy, people must exist in their own light, cast in and of themselves, not by the light of their peers. Conflict will arise because of this. Conflict is to be expected; conflict is a part of life. Find ways to work through conflict, even if it means picking a new favorite color...   I hope this makes a little sense.   I’m tired and rambling, and perhaps just a misguided fool, but I think there’s something in this - something that I am learning and accepting as my fingers punch these keys to an inviting, hypnotic rhythm. I feel like they’re leading me somewhere, and I’ve decided to follow.  ____I’m going to bed. Take from this what you will.  Love,  Alexander William Gaskarth  *I feel fine* The first of many, I hope.  Current mood: happy So I’ve decided to spill it; the beans, the juice, my guts... Whatever you want to call it, consider it spilled. Up to this point, I feel like I’ve done an excellent job of keeping just about everything true about myself, to myself... and for good reason - what people don’t know, people can’t use against you. I guess that’s my first confession. I fucking despise the way people operate. The way people go out of their way to find things out, only to throw them senselessly (BLINDLY) into conversation later. I don’t know if its intentional, (I guess that sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t,) but frankly, it gets to me. Its the same kind of prying aggravation I feel when someone starts moving shit around in my car, or on my computer table. Stop putting hills in my rugs! Please. Call me OCD but if I put something somewhere, chances are, I wanted it there and it should remain that way. Its the same for anyone else. Let one’s own business remain that way. Anyway. I’ve fallen into a depression lately - not emotionally per say, but I feel like my ability to open up to people has peaked over the past two years. I used to be so ready to say anything, without caring how it affected me, but recently I’ve become so protective of myself, not because I’m afraid of getting hurt by others, but because I might make myself look bad. It’s disgusting. I never used to be so self-absorbed. Its like in every situation, I’m wearing a mask... Not just one mask, in fact, but many masks; Masks to hide masks between people - to hide certain sides of myself from those who disapprove where others don’t. I try so hard to win the approval of everyone. Why? Fucked if I know. I just love being the center of attention I guess. And all this time I thought myself to be humble. No sir. But then, who really is humble? Everyone wants to be loved, right? So am I wrong in looking out for my own well being? Who knows? It makes me sick to my stomach, regardless. I’ve unknowingly stumbled across so many insecurities lately that I feel like a different person at times. It’s like I’ve been born all over again, to a world where I have to carry myself differently. I’m still opinionated, I’m still eagerly in search of answers, but my motives have changed. I do it for myself now; for the praise and admiration I earn as a result of my actions, not for the simple pleasure found in just "doing it". Maybe its all just part of growing up, as they say. Maturing... You know? But does it continue to change? Will I stop acting like such an asshole? Who knows. It worries me. I don’t want to be like this, but its who I’ve become... What’s worse is that I don’t know who or what to blame for the transformation. That would be too easy, right? I digress. I’ve got a lot of things on my plate. My dreams are coming true right before my very eyes - I have a band - We’re going somewhere - This time next year I hope I’m far, far away from this place. I want to see Japan. I’ve wanted to see Japan for a while now; call it a calling. Haha. I don’t know what I want when I get there - I don’t even like the hustle of big cities for too long. Gives me a headache. But there’s something about it. I’ll see it soon enough. The repetition of every day life kills. It ruins the flow of my creative juices. No joke. On days that I sleep in, I go to bed feeling exhausted, and yet, I never sleep on the weekends, when I should want rest. I don’t. It would be a waste of freedom. Why spend time on parole in seclusion, you know? I’m only tired on weekdays - only when I know I have to drag myself out of my fucking room to take a shower and go to school, and then to work. Maybe I’m not tired. Maybe it’s just a natural defense against running myself into the ground with routine. I feel pale, and sick, and run down... For no reason. I eat right. I see the light of day. I breathe fresh air all the time. I love the outdoors. Shit. I love my life. But between Monday and Thursday I feel so transient... My head isn’t in the clouds - My feet aren’t on the ground. Where am I? I don’t know, but frankly, it sucks. I have some good friends. We get hammered sometimes and forget about everything. The occasional dramatic scene is worth it. People naturally don’t get along with one another. It’s all a matter of how tolerant people are. I have some tolerant friends. In turn, I think I put up with my share of bullshit. It’s like a cycle of tough loving. But it works. It keeps me sane. In the end I think we really do love each other. Awww. I also like to kiss people. It gets me into trouble sometimes. Whatever. Certain individuals need to stop looking for love in the wrong places. --I can’t talk. --I’ve found love in the worst places. --Its not an easy thing to deal with. --Doesn’t change the way I feel about them. --Its ok. --As long as I’m happy. There I go being selfish again. ___I’m done confessing for now. Take from this what you will. Love, Alexander William Gaskarth *I feel better.*

#Alex Gaskarth #2008 #So Wrong It's Right #MySpace #blog #text #ap tour

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mellifluousscheherazade · 4 years ago

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I know quite a lot of people have already written long posts on why this shipping war is absolute absurdity (myself included) but I won’t do that because honestly I’m tired. People have their opinions and feelings and interpretations and I have mine and that’s that on that but it’s just been a sad time in the fandom overall for me. Is it just me feeling this?

I’m not writing this to flame the shipping war or for the pity or for the woe is mes. This is for my fellow silent Cleriths who aren’t really active in the fandom but are around and might also not be having the best time. And maybe a little for me too because sometimes I can feel like I’m second guessing myself and what I love and why I do so.

Clerith is a beautiful ship. No you’re not delusional, or “mentally ill” (which is completely inappropriate to say about people in any situation) nor are you wrong for liking this ship regardless of popularity or what is considered canon or whatever. Honestly anyone can toss at me whatever proof or essay they have, God themself can meet me at the pearly gates and tell me Clerith wasn’t canon or whatever but I don’t think Clerith will ever stop being special to me and at times it feels like people want it not to be.

Clerith symbolizes a lot of different things for different people, it has a story that yes isn’t overtly realistic or sexy or whatever but it is powerful in a way that holds a lot of meaning to me. I think it’s even more powerful and beautiful in harmony with the other relationships in the game. When it comes to stories, I love the truly beautiful things you find in the fantastical and also how true to life it all is to love and lose and to live and die and be so spiritually connected to someone in a way you can’t fathom. These are just a few of my jumbled thoughts but honestly I always feel so full of emotion when I get to the heart of why I love Aeriths story and Clouds story and the ways they intertwine and cannot be seperated. And that matters more than points or hot takes or promotional ads or canon or mean people on Twitter/tumblr who will undoubtedly make fun of me by comparing me to the girl from Mean Girls that’s says “I just want everyone to hug and bake cupcakes” idk how it goes y’all can fight all you want, but leave me and my gentle tender Clerith fam OUT OF IT. Anyways at the heart of connecting to a story is vulnerability and I am forever grateful to those that have made Clerith art, fics, gifs and the like throughout the years for making this small part of the fandom enjoyable for me despite all the nonsense. I send all my good vibes and love to you tonight✨

#clerith #pls dont interact unless you are gentle tender clerith fam #i am fully prepared to be roasted but i have said my piece

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sweetheartyuta · 4 years ago

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Bandslam! Taeyong

Happy to be back - bunny x (PSA this is reposted from squares react where I was Admin luna, the blog has since went inactive so I’m transferring my works to my new account :))

• So you’d been friends with taeyong since you were in diapers and you’d been inseparable ever since, you always had each other’s backs and were always very protective of one another. • You were both very musically talented, taeyong with his ability to write such meaningful lyrics and play the electric guitar expertly and you had a “great voice” as taeyong would say and definitely weren’t too shabby on the drums. • You’d spend the majority of your time together practicing in your parent’s soundproof garage, making covers and posting them online, which definitely got you some recognition at school and a growing support group online, although it was a small following it was greatly appreciated by you both. • With your growing support online you quickly befriended Johnny who was a magician on the electric keyboard and jaehyun who was a wiz on the bass guitar and soon enough, the pair quickly became the new additions to your band • anyone that looked over at the four of you would have thought that you had known each other forever. • When you joined together as a band, no other high school in your area could compete with you four, you were a force to be reckoned with, often asked to perform at school ceremonies and even prom. • That night when you rocked up in a dress with drumsticks in hand he saw you in a completely different light, like he was staring for so long Johnny had to punch him on the arm and was like ‘’dude are you okay you’re staring” • “wha- oh yeah I’m okay” realising he’d been staring for too long a pink hue made its way to his cheeks • He was at a loss, you looked simply radiant, he had always seen you as his best friend but the hammering in his ribcage was telling him a different story, after playing a few songs for your fellow classmates he made his way over to the food, trying to figure out what it was he felt when he looked at you. • A gentle tap on the shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts as he turned to meet your eyes gazing at him worriedly • “ dude are you okay you’ve been really quiet all night, this isn’t like you” • And because he’s not sure what was going on with him either he just smiled and reassured you, it wasn’t a fake smile though because he was always happiest when he was around you, he didn’t have to fake a smile. • He felt a tug on his arm and was then dragged to the dance floor “come on doofus let’s dance” he laughed at your comment and felt a warmth in his chest, after all these years you hadn’t changed at all, you never were one to follow the crowd, you were always your own person, dressing how you wanted, stood up for what you believed In and never changed who you were just for the sake of popularity. • And that is what he lov- liked!! That was what he liked about you • A slow song played next and you both groaned, you had talked about that cliché moment at dances when the couple get up to dance and a slow song starts to play but you laughed together as you started to sway to the beat. • Your hands held his shoulders lightly, as your head rested on his chest, almost like a hug, while his hands slowly made their way to your waist, causing an acceleration in his heartbeat though you were too busy to notice as you hummed along to the song. • He closed his eyes, never wanting to forget this moment, the moment he realised he liked you, more than a friend, he took in your sweet voice, quietly singing along to the song when all of a sudden you snorted as you looked across the hall to find Johnny and Jaehyun dancing the same way you two were to make fun of the both of you, he couldn’t help but laugh too at the sight in front of them. • Jaehyun was leaning his head on Johnny’s shoulder as they were almost the same height, twirling around the hall as they listened to you laughing. • They were so happy for taeyong, they knew before he did that he would have feelings for you, the way his ears seemed to perk up when you talked in a conversation, you balanced him out, he had a cold exterior, his prominent features scared many into thinking he was a very cold person but after befriending him the boys knew differently. • Whereas you were bubbly and had friendly features and they took a liking to you instantly, they first realised that taeyong liked you when they joined your group, the way he was overly protective as he was used to things just being you and him, it took him longer to accept the boys than you. • But now taeyong couldn’t imagine life without the three of you and couldn’t be more grateful for three friends he knew would be there for him for life and the trio felt the same way. • After prom taeyong would be so confused, noting things about you that he had never realised before, the way you lit up band practice when you walked into the garage, the way you threw your head back and you closed your eyes when you found something really funny and he couldn’t tell whether he actually had feelings for you or if it was just a crush. • So one day at lunch you’d be sitting at a table with Jaehyun and Taeyong and Johnny walks over with a poster in his hand and slam it on the table “guys you know we have to enter this right ?!” • You’d share a hesitant look with taeyong, although you didn’t deny the talent your band had, you had never participated in any competition therefore you wouldn’t know the kind of talent the other groups had • The competition meant business though, the winning group would receive a record deal and cash prize, the two things any aspiring musicians wished for • After some persuasion from Johnny you gave in, looking around the table you smiled, you wouldn’t want to take part in the competition with anyone else and it would be stupid to pass up an opportunity like this, jaehyun and Johnny high fived and cheered, sending all of the attention in the lunch room your way • The four of you knew that there was no chance you’d even qualify without a lot of practice. After countless nights spent in the garage you auditioned and qualified, making it to the final, although you had done well throughout the competition and received good feedback from the judges. You knew that winning the competition without doing something to make yourselves stand out wasn’t happening

• So you decided to come up with your own song, yes it was a risky move but with the lyrical geniuses that are jaehyun and taeyong and your knowledge of composing music mixed with Johnny’s editing skills you were pretty confident that you could create something great that would catch the eye of the judges and may give you the edge. • You all decided to stay at Taeyong’s house, giving you the opportunity to shoot ideas back and forth (while devouring a mountain of Doritos) and ask the guys for their opinion. Your eyelids slowly started to droop after five hours of nonstop composing and changing things around, you rested your head comfortably on Taeyong’s shoulder, slowly falling asleep. • It was a normal thing you would do but it felt different this time to Taeyong, his heart leapt at the sight of you laying on his shoulder, with your laptop balancing on your legs and shallow breaths leaving your mouth • He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to (he definitely didn’t) so he placed your laptop carefully onto the table and placed an arm around your waist, the guys had fallen asleep an hour before, tiring themselves out by eating so much pizza • He placed his lyric book on the ground and wrapped a blanket around you both and slowly fell asleep himself. • You were the first to wake up and you were surprised to say the least when you felt someone’s arm around you, you looked up at Taeyong to see him sleeping peacefully, a small blush forming on your face • Your feelings towards Taeyong had started to bloom recently, you just couldn’t imagine your life without him, always planning your futures together, he was your partner in crime and you were always curious if you would work out as a couple. • The next few band practices you had were all night-ers, trying to perfect the song, changing the tuning slightly as you did. Both Jaehyun and Johnny had begun to pick up on your feelings for Taeyong and began to put a plan into action, they’d leave you two alone at lunch time and say they had detention for doing something stupid and go sit in the library to give you two time to talk. They’d set the wrong time for band practice so they’d get there half an hour later than you did. • Basically doing anything to let you guys figure out your feelings for one another. • So anyways the day of the bandslam final comes and you were well prepared and you knew that even if you didn’t win you still tried your hardest and you still had your three best friends and nothing could change that. • Don’t get me wrong though, you were up against some pretty stiff competition, the level of talent was insane but you didn’t have much time to think about it since you were one of the first bands to play. • ¬¬the look of confusion which very quickly turned to excitement that came from the judges and the crowd was priceless as they realised you were playing your own song, though Taeyong looked more nervous than usual. • You let it slide because you thought it was just because of the competition but little did you know he was planning on asking you to be his girlfriend if you won • The performance was definitely one of the best you’ve had, you couldn’t help but feel emotional at knowing all of the hard work you put in had paid off and the reaction from the crowd was something that you never wanted to forget. • The competition was left down to three different groups, all of which had did very well with their performances, standing on the stage waiting for your results you felt like your heart was about to drop to your stomach. Taeyong took hold of your hand and interlocked it with his own, giving it a squeeze, you looked up to Taeyong who gave you a reassuring smile. • You were too busy in your own thoughts to realise your name had been called out as the winning group, everyone was screaming and you were pulled into a group hug by Johnny “wE DID IT GUYS, WE ACTUALLY DID IT” • Taeyong pulled away from you and grabbed a mic and got the attention of the crowd who were cheering you “so I promised myself I’d do something if we won this competition” he turned to face you taking your hand in his own “ will you go out with me?” • And god, you would be in tears now if you weren’t already crying, you’d nod your head and pull him in for a hug, shyly kissing his cheek. • To be honest the two noobs were probably freaking out more over the fact you said yes to being Taeyong’s girlfriend than winning the competition, they’d pick you both up and spin you round “IT’S ABOUT TIME WE THOUGHT IT WAS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN” • Honestly this was a day that would go down in history for all four of you, though you’d be the biggest winner of all because you got a record deal and walked away with Taeyong not just as your best friend, as your boyfriend.

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1-800-i-ship-it · 4 years ago

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*All Might voice* I AM HERE! for dad!jinsung and son!bam fluff and content.

I am so paranoid tumblr is gonna delete this and lo and behold it won’t appear on my pc browser as a draft what’d ya know surprise surprise so here we go mobile copy paste it is listen tumblr I’m so done I can see the drafts increase from 42 to 43 but the gosh darned POST DOESNT APPEAR.

Anyways

Hello anon!

Apologies for the super long wait for me answering this :’) In hindsight maybe I should have just answered it with a short answer but since I dragged it out this long, might as well write some headcanons amirite; i have some modern day setting + ToG stuff hope u don’t mind + varying ages of Bam

Modern Day:

Jinsung taking smol bam to a small ice cream stand and just chilling in the park walking around, smol Bam asks Jinsung a lot of questions and Jinsung just kinda doesn’t know what to tell Bam xD

Jinsung taking teen Bam back to school shopping and while doing so buys Bam matching clothes with him (that black dress shirt and khakis yes) and Bam likes to wear it to remind him of his dad when he can’t see him

Jinsung taking care of baby Bam who wakes him up in the middle of the night and leaves him with eyebags all the time but has the cutest baby smile ever that even Jinsung cannot resist it

But other than that Bam is a great baby who rarely misbehaves and is a favorite at FUG gatherings during the holidays which Jinsung is forced to go to sometimes

Jinsung trying to figure out what to say to Bam the first time smol Bam has a boo boo and needs comforting

Jinsung meeting Wangnan at the park once, a random teenager, who offers him lollipops instead of cigarettes and looks pointedly at smol Bam, to which Jinsung reluctantly accepts

The next time Wangnan spots Jinsung and his son at the park again he smiles seeing that Jinsung is chewing on a lollipop instead of smoking

Jinsung’s favorite lollipop flavor is lemon no I do not take criticism (I’m just kidding, I just think he might like it)

I’d imagine Jinsung is some high ranking officer at a big company but hates dealing with paperwork so his assistants always deal with that stuff, and technically isn’t the highest ranking officer but they go to him for problems they don’t know what to do about cause he’s extremely knowledgeable

Has a lot of influence therefore can do almost anything he wants so he has flexible hours in order to take care of smol Bam

When Bam comes home one day saying he has met Khun Jinsung frowns every so slightly for a split second before Bam can see but Jinsung lets it slide...for now because he can see how excited smol Bam is talking about his school day and meeting Khun who gave him a super cool shiny stone; Jinsung notices that it’s suspendium and in his head is like damn, they sure are close

Of course, Jinsung still tells his people to do an extensive background check on Khun AA to make sure he was clean and wasn’t just trying to sabotage his company like the 10 Great Famillies did before

Bam gets older, Khun and Bam are as close as ever and Jinsung realizes that Bam is gay before Bam realizes

Jinsung sits down to have the talk with Bam and dear god poor middle school Bam is just confused and is like, what are you talking about, I only like Khun, I think I love him? But it’s just Khun? Then Jinsung sighs deeply and realizes he’s dug himself a hole and just keeps talking to Bam about being demi and all that, Bam kind of understands but not really, Jinsung kinda gives up at the end but asks some questions about what Khun means to Bam who in turn rambles a bunch and Jinsung is like yup head-over-heels

Fast forward to high school; Khun is Bam’s prom date as “friends” Khun comes to pick Bam up and while Bam dashes upstairs, Jinsung gives Khun The Dad Talk about not hurting Bam and Khun is actualllly kind of intimidated for once, but once Jinsung sees the look in Khun’s eyes he’s like alright this boi also head-over-heels we should be good

Jinsung never cries but he cries at their wedding (just a few tears obviously, the full on crying comes after)

Tower of God universe:

I like to think that Jinsung reminds Bam that he’s there for him and they have silent acknowledgments or agreements with each other about that especially after a tough training day

Bam might not know but Jinsung breaks a lot of rules for him from FUG but he gets away with it bc he’s powerful and also so is Bam

Classic thing that’s like already canon but Jinsung buying clothes for Bam and always beng able to send them to him no matter where he is

Bam has an attachment to the first shirt that Jinsung gave Bam and even though its torn and ripped he keeps it (even tho Khun says not to)

When training with FUG, Jinsung pushes Bam to his limit but never too much, which was sparked by Hwaryun in the beginning telling Jinsung what Bam is really capable of (beginning of Bam growing on Jinsung)

Bam always coughs whenever Jinsung smokes near him so Jinsung makes sure he doesn’t smoke close to Bam

Jinsung sometimes opens up and tells Bam stories about his past to which Bam listens earnestly but also sometimes doesn’t say anything, the pressure FUG putting on him almost breaking him, and sometimes Jinsung will give him a pat on the shoulder, and on really bad days, a hug even though Jinsung feels awkward doing it he knows it helps Bam

Jinsung gives Bam headpats no I will not take criticism

Still does it even when Bam grows almost to his height (I did not check the wiki pls don’t attack me)

Jinsung ends up caring a lot for Bam, and Bam for Jinsung eventually even though he was quite angry and frustrated at first

Bam fills the void in Jinsung’s heart, quenches some of his never-ending thirst for revenge against the 10 great families and jahad and what they have done to him, and Jinsung is kind of like the real parent that Bam never really had with Rachel

Jinsung tells Bam to be happy, and Bam’s just, never really thought about that much; in his mind it was always Rachel as the endgame, but eventually he comes to realize what happiness really means to him, and he’s grateful for Jinsung’s support

Bam gives Jinsung hope, something he thought he would never have ever again, and Jinsung gives Bam the notion of happiness and healthy parenting (i acknowledge it might not have been healthy in the beginning), someone who he can rely on

They both help each other grow and I think that’s beautiful

Aight I might have gone overboard but to be fair I did already warn ya’ll in my blog description that my default is rambling xD anyways anon I hope this answers your ask! So sorry I took legit FOREVER to answer but I hope this lived up to your expectations.

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