#dream of the endless love is the kind of love that break both people

[angelsonoah]

FATHER—

I failed my son and so you said

I loathed you and I wish you were dead

Father, even when you walked away I still love you

Even enraged and devastated I still do

Because the last time you caressed me

Part of you died here

And I carried them

I carried them with my teeth

Never letting go like a loyal dog

Always waiting

Waiting here

Until we meet again

Sandman Anniversary 2024 Day 1 Entry

SECRETS

@mr-sadman

[alexandriasarchives]

Almost

Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader

Summary: You and Daryl had been best friends for years. You have had years of unspoken feelings and “almosts”. After leaving the prison and finding a cabin on the way to a supply run, you finally find out if Daryl feels the same way.

You had taken notice of Daryl as soon as you joined the group all those years ago. You saw what seemingly no one had. You had always wondered if he'd ever taken notice of you in the same way. There's been countless times when you go to sneak a glance his way and his eyes are already on you. Endless moments of hands and shoulders brushing ever so slightly against each other, stolen glances at each other's lips, dozens of starry night skies while laying in the damp Atlanta grass. Countless times where you thought an “almost” would become a “finally”.

You snap yourself out of your thoughts because, here the two of you are gearing up at the prison, getting ready for a supply run that would probably take a day and a half to even get to the destination. He looks amazing as his strong arms reach up to close the trunk of the car.

“Ya ready?” he looks over to you curiously as he can probably tell your head is somewhere else.

“Yeah lets get on the road” you say nonchalantly as you round the car and go to open your door. Before your hand can reach the handle Daryl's broad frame quickly comes into view and he reaches out to open the door to the beat up Honda without making eye contact. He's done this before, another overly kind gesture that could possibly mean more and makes your head spin wondering if he actually could feel in some part the same way you do. You smile at the thought and him and get in the car speechlessly, not wanting to create something out of nothing and potentially ruin the friendship you've cherished for years.

He walks over to the driver side door, opens it and gets in. He puts the keys in the ignition and the engine comes to life. The gates slide open for you guys to head out to the main road. The trees pass by along with the occasional walker as you get consumed by your thoughts. The stories you've shared with each other, the secrets. There seemed to be only one thing you couldn't tell this man and it's that you are irrevocably in love with him.

People automatically assume you're together, with all the time you spend together, the way he seems to soften and get comfortable around you, and as Carol likes to call it “the lovesick looks”. According to her, your affections are reciprocated, but you could never dream of making a move until you have full confirmation from him. Your friendship was something you were not willing to put on the line, what you two have means everything in a world like this.

This is torturous. You break the silence.

“You know we're going to have to stop, you can’t drive all night…it's not safe” you say masking your concern for his well being with a priority for safety.

He turns his head to look at you and it almost seems like he's taking you in for a second, his eyes roll up and down your frame and he replies simply, and matter of factly as he turns his attention back to the road

“I'll be fine…” he continues hesitantly “...Yknow id never let anything happen to ya” he looks over once again, he's dead serious and your heart is racing. Is this the moment?

Before you can decide what to say he continues “But if it makes you feel better we can i guess…”. You both start looking for places to stay as you are driving by. You spot an A frame cabin in the distance and lightly shove his shoulder and point in that direction to get his attention. He backs up and pulls off the road. You both step out of the car and instinctively start covering it with branches and bushes.

“Should be good enough, cmon” he says while gesturing forward for you to follow his lead. Something that had been carved out through a lot of bickering over the years. While you follow him up through the trees to the cabin you can't help but notice his broad shoulders, how they've muscled over the years, how they swing while holding his crossbow in one hand. How serious he is about keeping the people he cares about safe. You felt lucky to be included in that circle, and selfish that you wanted more.

You walk up the wooden steps and he turns around to stop you from continuing up with him to the door. He bangs on the frame of the door a few times to gather any attention of walkers while you survey the area for any strays. When he can't hear anything moving inside He goes inside and quickly clears the quaint cabin. He comes back out, naturally bounding down the stairs and says,

“I can't hear nothin movin in there, we’ll stay here. Leave at sunrise.” He says while picking your bag up off the ground and carrying it inside for you without saying another word. You're frozen for a second, your previous thoughts coming to haunt you once again. You quickly snap yourself back to reality and rush up the stairs to catch up and see your abode for the night you.

You take in your surroundings. It's cute. It's a loft style place with a tiny living and dining room as soon as you walk in. With a kitchen a bit further back, the stairs against the wall lead up to a full sized bed that you can see from the door when you first walk in, guarded by a railing.

Besides the dust and panicked “the world is ending” clutter it is very much livable. Something that you'd remember where it is just in case you needed a safe house in the future. You follow Daryl's lead and start looking through cabinets to find something useful before you settle in. There's some leftover canned food in the cupboards and while rummaging through what's good and what's not you feel a slight nudge on your back. You turn and Daryls holding out a book, presumably what you just felt on your shoulder.

“Looks like something you'd like…” He was the most observant person you'd ever met. You told him about this author months ago. He remembered. Why did he remember?

“Thank you…” you say, not being able to help but softly smile at him “...That's really sweet of you…”

His eyes dart between you and the floor seemingly not being able to maintain eye contact with you. Does he feel it now? The heart fluttering, the warmth in your stomach, the rise in heat, the tremble in your throat, legs like jello. You think he might when he goes to say something but simply closes his mouth, turns his eyes towards the floor and almost painfully walks towards the door. He pauses with one hand on the frame and the other with his crossbow. He turns to look over his shoulder and says

“I'll be back, gonna find us somethin to eat…” he says, but there's something in his voice that you're trying to place as the door closes behind him.

Longing.

What if he does feel the same? It's almost as terrifying as if he doesn't. You can't take the not knowing anymore. The “almosts”. An hour or two passes, it's dark now and you're lost in your book as Daryl opens the door, some small game strung over his leather clad shoulder.

He closes the door behind him and stops in front of it, taking in the scene before him. You had started a fire in the small furnace and were curled up with your new gift on the couch. You see him looking over everything and you, like he almost doesn't know what to do next.

“hey…“ you say softly breaking him from the thoughts you could see you could tell were racing behind his eyes.

“Hey” he responds after a second, looking so deeply into your eyes you think you might break right then and there.

All that can be heard is the fire cracking until he sets the small game down and walks towards the old couch that you're sitting on. It creaks as he plops down beside you and the couch dips so you're even closer than you think intended. He kicks his boot clad feet up onto the small table in front of the couch and actually lounges back. He breathes deep and is seemingly relaxed, something that you consider rare for him. You take him in, he looks amazing, strong arms folded behind his head which is laid back, his broad body trails down to his crossed feet on the table. He's immaculate.

“Tell me bout it…” you almost miss what he says as you're too busy checking him out when he continues amidst your silence. “Your book… tell me about it”

You immediately beam a smile at him, ecstatic that he would actually care to hear about something you like so much. You begin delving in with as much detail as you could spare. He is looking at you so sincerely and contently, the moment is filled with such warmth you could explode. One hand is now stroking his chin as he listens intently to every word, soaking up every syllable you say. His eyes are all over you.

“...And that's all I've got so far, i can't wait to finish it” you say taking a deep breath from the monologue you just went on and look from your book to him with a smile. He's looking at you with that look again.

Longing.

Your knee brushes against his outstretched leg and you swear you feel actual sparks. Your eyes flicker down and then back up to see he has not relented his gaze in the slightest

“What is it?” you say.

He shrugs you off with a grunt. You put your book on the table and face your entire body towards him. Knees brushing against him once again. Trying to show that he has your full attention and it isn't going anywhere. You match his eyes and say

“c'mon … we always tell eachother everything” his mouth is slightly agape and you can see his chest rising and falling deeply almost as if he's nervous despite his still relaxed position on this small couch.

He shifts slightly but his gaze doesn't falter.

“You look nice today…” he says lowly and then continues “you always look nice… i jus dont say it enough…” your breath is taken away in that very moment. You can't tell if this is real right now.

“You do too..” you say barely above a whisper, absolutely breathless. This is when he turns his attention to the furnace, you swear you saw a slight blush tinge up his neck to his cheeks. He takes an audibly deep breath and stands. He looks over to you once again and says

“We should get some shut eye, got a long day tomorrow…” You're stunned. If that wasn't the moment then maybe there would never be one. “... I'll take the couch, you take the bed”

You're snapped back into reality once again

“Why don't we share it? I mean we're both adults, besides how often do you get to sleep in a bed that isn't behind bars” you say with a chuckle trying to mask the pang in your chest at another “almost”.

He's stunned in his place at the proposition and you're thinking that maybe you crossed the line when he lets out a simple

“...Sure”

He looks at you hesitantly but follows you up the stairs and you each take a seat on either side of the bed. Now it seems both of you don't know what to do and you're starting to think that maybe this was a bad idea. You take the lead and slowly lay on your back so close to the edge the wind could probably blow you off. He follows your lead and does the same and you're both laying there staring at the ceiling on your backs as the light from the fire flickers on the angled ceiling above you.

Even with you both doing your best to give each other space his broad shoulder is brushing against yours and you feel his pinky graze yours. You suck in for air unable to catch your breath from this innocent touch.

When suddenly you feel his warm, rough hand enclose over your own.

Both of your heads slowly turn to face one another. You're both searching each other's eyes for something.

Permission.

His eyes land on your lips. You realize this is the moment. His eyes meet yours again and you scoot closer to him. Your faces are now inches apart. His chest is rising and falling deeply once again, he's nervous but he lifts his head and moves himself closer so now your lips are only inches apart. You lean your forehead against his and bring a hand up to rest on his cheek. You run your thumb along his lips and swear you feel him shudder beneath your touch. His eyes are darting across your face searching for any hesitation.

“Ya sure?” he says quietly and gravelly. Almost desperately.

“Yes..” You say immediately, breathlessly, and full of certainty. “...Are you?” you continue

“Have been for a while now…” He says while leaning in to lock your lips.

The kiss is soft and hesitant. His slightly chapped lips mold with yours perfectly. You're both testing the waters of something long unspoken. His hand moves to the back of your head , pulling you as close as possible, threading his fingers through your hair as he does. For a second your mind flashes with all the “almosts” and when you pull back for the air you desperately needed you see your “finally” in his eyes. You're both absolutely breathless and buzzing from each other's touch.

He leans his forehead against yours and shuts his eyes for a second almost as if to process what's unfolding before him and says

“I thought this was something i couldn't have… that i didn't deserve.” he opens his eyes and the vulnerability that's there is a rare sight, something you know he doesn't share easily. He looks at you so longingly and dare you say lovingly that you can feel your heart stutter.

You shake your head vehemently in absolute disbelief over his words and raw honesty. You slide your hand that was on his cheek to his strong chest and feel his heart beating beneath your palm. It's steady but fast.

“Ya better than all this, better than me … i know that” He says as his lips twitch into a faint, almost sheepish smirk. He momentarily averts his head and eyes to the ceiling. You move your hand back to his cheek and softly turn his face to look at you again.

“You don't get to decide that…” You say while stroking his cheek and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You've been everything to me for so long. I don't care what kind of world we're in. I want you. Just you.” You whisper the last part against his lips. He breathes deeply in for air desperately trying to fill his lungs back up with air from the girl who stole it from him. He’s utterly taken with what you just said, what he desperately needed to hear from you for years. He's never felt or had love like this. It's almost overwhelming for him. His eyes have a gloss to them and they say everything that you've been needing from him for years.

He softly and slowly grabs your waist to turn you from your back, to your side to face him and he does the same so you're fully pressed into his wide, strong chest. Your legs tangle together and of all the times you both had dreamed of this moment, this is somehow better.

[hoonven]

❛❛in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.❞

2.6K ⸺ in another life, you and jaeyun are the lovers who made it, but not in this one

‎PAIRING! singer!sim jaeyun x model!female reader

GENRES! fluff, angst, lovers to exes trope, a little comedy to lighten the mood? everything everywhere all at once au

WARNINGS! mention of a cigarette but no smoking, and a brief mention of food

The rooftop of an exclusive SoHo venue buzzed with subdued chaos. Neon lights flickered in the distance, the city sprawling out like an endless circuit board of dreams and despair. The East River shimmered, black and silver, winding its way through the arteries of the city, holding the secrets of its inhabitants.

You stood near the edge, cigarette in hand. You didn’t smoke—it was more of a prop, something to hold onto when your hands trembled. You gazed over the city, your reflection caught in the mirrored panels of the building behind you. You were radiant, of course. A goddess in Dior, the tabloids had called you earlier that evening. The faint hum of house music from the party below barely registered in your ears.

“Did you ever think you’d make it here?” a voice breaks through the haze, quiet but unmistakable.

You turned, and your heart felt like it stopped—like it was too ashamed to beat in his presence.

Jaeyun.

He looked just as you remembered, only a little older now. His physique had grown taller and more lean, wearing a sleek black suit. His jet-black hair is styled neatly, with strands softly framing his face, the kind of face that made people believe in angels. There was a melancholic look in his eyes that you don’t remember him carrying before, like he was grieving a love he would never have.

“Jaeyun,” you said, his name catching in your throat like a foreign word.

“It’s been a while,” he said, stepping closer. The faint scent of his cologne mingled with the cool night air. “But you’re still as pretty as I remember.”

You tear your eyes away from him, gazing back out into the glittering city to shield the sudden rush of emotion flooding your chest. “Thanks, I get paid for it.”

Jaeyun laughed softly, the sound as bittersweet as the night. “Still as cold too.”

You flinched but masked it with a sharp inhale. “You look like you’re doing well for yourself.” You gestured vaguely at him, the world-famous singer, the headliner of a sold-out tour, standing before you as if you were still the same two teens who once shared takeout on a dingy apartment floor.

“I am,” Jaeyun said. “And so are you. Look at you, Y/N. You're everything you said you’d be.”

You swallowed hard. “It wasn’t easy.”

“Nah,” Jaeyun said with a shake of his head, his voice dipping low. “But you made it look like it was.”

You both stood in silence for a moment, the city filling the gaps between. The hum of distant sirens. A honk from a cab far below. The ghosts of memories neither of you dared to say aloud.

“You seem happy,” you said, finally breaking the tension.

“I sing songs about heartbreak for a living,” Jaeyun replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “It’s lucrative.”

“Jaeyun…”

“Was it worth it?” he interrupted, his voice cutting through you like a blade.

You looked up sharply, meeting his gaze. The question echoing in the void of your chest—there was no heart inside there.

There was no kindness or gentleness inside you to offer Jaeyun, because you’re mean, and awful, and selfish. But that’s the only way you know how to survive. Poor you, the girl who spent her life surviving.

“I don’t know,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. But for a moment you wondered, and you imagine that in another life you had a better answer.

In another life, in a cozy bookstore on a rainy afternoon, Jaeyun crouched on the floor, flipping through an old songbook. You were perched on a ladder nearby, your fingers trailing over the spines of novels.

“Jaeyun,” you said suddenly, holding up a book with a faded red cover, “this one’s about us. A rockstar and a model who run away to start a goat farm.”

Jaeyun smirked, tilting his head to look at you. “How does it end?”

“Tragically,” you teased.

“Well, good thing we’re writing our own story,” he replied, grinning as he reached up to pull you into his lap.

In another life, you stood at a train station, your suitcase at your feet. Jaeyun was on the other side of the glass, his hand pressed against it, a futile barrier between you.

“I’ll call you,” you mouthed, tears streaming down your face.

“You won’t,” he mouthed back, his expression breaking.

The train’s whistle screamed, and you stepped back. The glass fogged with your breath as you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

In another life, on a sunny afternoon at the park. You lay on a picnic blanket, your head in Jaeyun’s lap. He strummed his guitar lazily, singing a melody just for you.

“Write that down,” you said, pointing at his notepad.

“Why?”

“Because it’s the best thing you’ve ever written.”

Jaeyun smirked, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “That’s because it’s about you.”

In another life, at sunset, you stood on a beach, toes buried in the cool sand. You leaned into Jaeyun, his arm draped around your shoulders as you watched the waves crash.

Neither of you spoke, but the silence was filled with a peaceful understanding. The world was vast, and yet you had found each other.

In another life, Jaeyun sped down a dirt trail on a tandem bike, with you laughing uncontrollably behind him.

“Jaeyun!” you screamed, clutching his waist.

“Never back down, never what?!” he yelled back, pedaling harder.

“Never give up!”

The bike hit a bump, sending you both flying into a pile of leaves. You sat up, covered in twigs, and burst into laughter.

In another life, in a cramped one-bedroom apartment, you both sat on the floor surrounded by stacks of unpaid bills. Jaeyun’s hands tugged through his hair as you nervously chewed on your lip.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you said, voice shaking.

“I know,” Jaeyun replied, his voice heavy with frustration. “I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “We’ll figure it out.”

In another life, on a rooftop in Paris, Jaeyun pulled out a small velvet box and knelt in front of you. Your breath hitched as he opened it to reveal a ring.

“Marry me,” he said, his voice trembling but his eyes steady.

Your hands flew to your mouth as tears spilled over. “Yes,” you whispered, and when he slid the ring onto your finger, he kissed you like the world was ending.

In another life, the cramped kitchen smelled of garlic and tomato sauce as you stirred the pot, humming along to the music blaring from the tiny speaker. Jaeyun stood next to you, dramatically rapping Eminem’s verse, waving a wooden spoon like a mic.

“His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy—”

“—There’s vomit on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti!” you chimed in, voice cracking from laughter.

Jaeyun struck a pose, pretending to look “calm and ready,” while you dissolved into giggles, nearly spilling the sauce.

“Careful, or our spaghetti’s gonna end up on the floor,” Jaeyun teased, stealing a quick kiss on your cheek before turning back to the pasta.

“Focus, Slim Shady,” you shot back, grinning as you twirled noodles onto a plate.

In another life, under an arch of twinkling lights, you and Jaeyun stood hand in hand, surrounded by family and friends.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant announced.

Jaeyun dipped you dramatically, eliciting cheers and laughter from the crowd, before kissing you like you were the only two people in the world. When you broke apart, you whispered, “I love you.”

Jaeyun smiled. “I love you more.”

In another life, Jaeyun squatted in front of the washing machine, phone in hand, while you leaned over his shoulder, scrolling through a YouTube tutorial.

“Wait, so we’re not supposed to mix whites and colors?” Jaeyun asked, glancing at the rainbow heap he’d already shoved in.

You frowned. “Apparently not… and why is there, like, five kinds of detergent? Which one do we even use?”

The video continued to play, but neither of you seemed to understand a word. Jaeyun sighed, tossing the phone onto the counter. “Let’s just wing it.”

You crossed your arms. “That’s how we turned your white shirt pink last time.”

“Only Riki and Hoon would crash out over that,” Jaeyun said with a shrug, pressing the start button anyway.

In another life, the dining table was covered in papers, receipts, and a laptop that was dangerously close to overheating. You sat with your head in your hands, glaring at a spreadsheet that refused to balance. Jaeyun was on the other side of the table, furiously tapping on a calculator.

“This makes no sense,” you groaned, shoving a pile of receipts toward him. “How do I owe this much when I’ve already paid so much in quarterly taxes?”

Jaeyun glanced up, his hair sticking out in all directions from running his hands through it. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’m not an accountant. I’m just a guy who thought splitting fries was complicated.”

You let out a frustrated laugh. “Whoever came up with taxes was just a hater.”

“Aren’t you a self-proclaimed hater, though?” Jaeyun raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I'm just a girl.” you deadpanned, gesturing to yourself.

Jaeyun snorted, then sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, new plan. We take a break, grab some coffee, and call an accountant tomorrow. We clearly have no idea what we’re doing.”

You nodded, rubbing your temples. “Fine. But if we get audited, you’re the one explaining why our expense report has coffee runs listed as ‘essential creative fuel.’”

Jaeyun grinned despite the mess. “Deal.”

In another life, the apartment was suffocating with tension. Jaeyun stood by the window, his hands clenched at his sides, while you stood across the living room.

You were both shouting, your words overlapping in a chaotic mess.

“—You never see my perspective—”

“—You always think you’re right—”

“—Stop talking over me—”

“—You’re talking over me too—”

The room buzzed with both voices, neither willing to stop, neither willing to hear.

Finally, your voice cut through. “You know what? Fuck this! I'm done!”

You grabbed your coat, your movements quick and jerky as you stormed to the door.

“I can’t do this right now,” you said, voice cold and distant.

“Y/N—” Jaeyun started, his voice softening, but you didn’t turn back.

The door slammed behind you, the sound echoing through the apartment. Jaeyun sank into the couch, his head falling into his hands as the weight of the argument crashed over him. For a long time, he didn’t move, the quiet of the empty room pressing down on him like a storm cloud.

In another life, in a brightly lit hospital room, Jaeyun cradled your newborn daughter against his chest, his eyes glassy with tears.

“She has your nose,” he said softly, sitting beside you, who was propped up on the hospital bed, exhausted but glowing.

“And your eyes,” you replied with a tired laugh.

Jaeyun leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Each moment captured a glimpse of your love across universes, a kaleidoscope of experiences that are as fleeting as they are eternal.

Jaeyun nodded, as if he'd been expecting that answer. “Yeah, I get it. Can't be too vulnerable right?” he said, his voice soft but steady. “But I’m not like you. You always said I was too nice for my own good. That I’d let the world eat me alive if you weren’t there to save me.”

Your throat tightened. You looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

“But my kindness,” Jaeyun continued, “doesn't make me weak. It's how I fight. In a world this cruel, it’s the only way I know how to survive. And I knew, even then, that I could’ve been the one to leave. Could’ve been the one to hurt you first. But I didn’t want that.” He took a step closer, his voice quieter now. “I wanted to make sure I was the one who got hurt. So you could keep fighting in your own way.”

You closed your eyes, but the tears still pricked at the edges. The weight of his words, of your shared past, of everything unsaid—it was unbearable.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice gentler now, “You’re not a bad person. You're just trying to protect yourself.”

You opened your eyes, and for a moment, it felt like the city fell away. Just the two of you, suspended in the quiet ache of what could’ve been.

“You know,” Jaeyun said, a faint, longing smile curling his lips, “in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”

The words struck you like a blow, a montage of moments in this life—of what could've been in this universe, flashing before your eyes—walking hand in hand down quiet streets, mornings spent tangled in sheets, laughing over burnt toast, folding laundry in the dim light of a shared apartment.

And then Jaeyun stepped back. The moment shattered like glass.

He smiled at you one last time, a quiet, knowing smile, and then turned, walking away into the neon haze of the party below.

You stood frozen, your heart aching as you watched him disappear. The city continued to hum around you, oblivious to the pieces of your heart scattering like ash into the night.

You were heartless now, just like you always wanted.

In the reflection of the glass, you saw yourself—the goddess in Dior—and felt the crushing weight of everything you had fought for.

It wasn’t enough.

In another life, you and Jaeyun are in a dimly lit laundromat, late at night. The hum of the washing machines fills the air, punctuated by the occasional beep of a dryer finishing its cycle. You sit side by side on a cracked plastic bench, both staring at the spinning drum of a washer in front of you. A basket of unfolded clothes sits between you.

You break the silence.

“I always thought my life would be bigger than this.”

Jaeyun glances at you, but you keep your gaze fixed on the washing machine. “Bigger than doing laundry?”

You let out a dry laugh, finally turning to look at him. “Yeah. You know, I wanted the world. Lights, stages, all eyes on me.”

Jaeyun nods, he’s heard you say this before, but this time, there’s something heavier in your voice. “You could still have it.”

You lean back against the cold wall, tilting your head toward him. “Could I? I feel like I've spent so much time running toward something I don't even recognize anymore. And now I'm here. Folding clothes and splitting bills. With you.”

Jaeyun looks down at his hands, fiddling with a loose thread on his sleeve. He takes a deep breath, the words hanging heavy in his chest. “Y/N, do you ever think… maybe this is enough? That maybe this—” he gestures to the laundromat, the mundane surroundings “—isn’t just some filler episode of our lives?”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Laundry and taxes? That’s your big dream?”

Jaeyun's lips twitch into a sad smile. “Not just laundry and taxes. Laundry and taxes with you.”

The weight of his words sink in, softening your teasing smile. Your eyes search his face for a moment, as if seeing him for the first time. “Jaeyun, I—“

“I know. You’re not ready to stop running, and I’ll never stop cheering for you. But if there’s a version of us out there, in another life, where we don’t need the lights and the noise—where we’re just… us—I think I’d like that.”

The washer buzzes, startling you both. You blink rapidly, caught between the spinning thoughts in your mind and the sudden, jarring noise. You swallow, picking up a shirt from the basket and holding it in your lap. “In another life, huh?”

Jaeyun nods, leaning back against the wall with a wistful smile. “In every life.”

You don’t say anything, but your hand brushes against his as you both sit in silence, and the hum of the machines continues.

© 2024 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform. NETWORK! @kstrucknet

[enwoso]

INVISIBLE STRINGS — alessia russo

*i started writing this and loved it then got bored by the end so sorry for the rushed ending:) but thank you for the love and support on my first post!!

navigation

google would define invisible strings as a thread that connects two people who are destined to meet regardless of time, place or the circumstances. the thread may stretch or tangle but it never breaks.

you and alessia both truly believed you were a prime example of the invisible string theory.

the two of you always existing among each other but neither ever really acknowledged each other until later on when you were both older.

you lived on the same street as alessia growing up, only a few doors down, she was the blonde girl you would always see from afar playing in the park with her two older brothers as they blasted the ball at the young girl.

however she always gave back as good as she got.

you had even went to the same school, however she was in the year above you. there were plenty school photos with the two of you in only a few metres apart. walking past each other in the corridor every single day - not having an idea how important each other would become to be to the other in the future.

you had played football for the local team as did she. the blonde playing in offence taking any spot on the front line whereas you sat at the back and played in defence stopping the opposition from scoring.

that is how the two of you met, well kind of. you played for the same team but you two never really friends. it wasn’t that you didn’t like each other it’s just you never really spoke to one another bar the few words when necessary.

however you only played with each other for a few months before she moved onto a new local team. only seeing her now when your team would face her new team.

you both existed in the backgrounds of each others lives.

when you were sixteen, you were scouted by the arsenal's academy for the under seventeens teams, it took you a little time getting used to playing academy football and not the usual sunday league but after a few months you had found your feet and began to settle in.

you had one goal, the england youth squad. your family pushing you each day to try and help you achieve your goal however just a month before the squad announcement you tore your ACL at sixteen.

you were out of football for a year, endless days sat with a physio, in the gym just trying to get your knee to bend again like it once used to. watching from the sidelines as your friends in the academy got their calls up for the youth teams and how you wished it was you.

you felt as though you were fighting a battle you were never going to win, you were falling out of love with sport that you had played your entire life.

after three hundred and sixty two day you were finally allowed to play again, however your return it wasn't the fairy tale dream you had spent the past year dreamed about. you ended up spending a lot of time on the bench not playing as regular as you did before your injury and you spent many of those ninety minutes wondering why you were no longer good enough.

losing all your confidence in yourself and your ability to actually play football - you felt as though you had hit a brick wall. finding yourself some days where you didn't want to play football anymore.

but thankfully your family, mainly your dad, were not going to let you give up so easily on the talent that they had spent watching over the last ten years. your dad repeatedly telling you 'that you time would come'

and like the fairy tale you had dreamed about you slowly begun to get minutes again and fell back in love with sport all over again. forever thankful for your family for their support each day, for sometimes dragging you to training even when you had told them multiple of times that you were done and that you quit.

and you dad was right, your time did come. your hard work finally paid off and just after your nineteenth birthday you made your appearance for the arsenal first time - even bagging yourself an assist.

the next few season were spent learning and being loaned to another other club spending half a season at brighton when you were 20. but you saw it all as learning and a way of improving - you were getting minutes, plenty of clean sheets and you were working towards a new goal: the 2023 world cup.

you were back at arsenal and were a regular starter in the back line for arsenal and with that came your good from and finally your call up for england came as they were beginning their campaign to quality for the world cup in australia.

"are you excited?" leah asked swinging her arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the changing rooms, she had been a big mentor to you since you had came into the first team, along with helping you to improve your game. you could say you became her little prodigy.

the squad had just been announced on social media for the first time and hearing your name on the sheet of paper had you feeling something you could even begin to find the word to describe.

“yes.. but no, i’m a little nervous” you admitted with a small laugh as leah gave you a soft smile and a squeeze of the shoulders to reassure you.

“listen, you’ll be fine! just play with the passion you always have” she said as you nodded slowly, “plus you’ll have me, beth and jordan!” the blonde added as you playfully groaned, leah gasping and unthreading her arm from around your shoulders.

“i’m just kidding, you know i love you all” you smiled, as leah rolled her eyes as you reached the doors of the changing rooms, “i do kiddo! ..but i’m at the top of that list, right?”

“whatever helps you sleep at night, lee!”

leah was right - you were fine. while you didn’t get any starts in any of the games at your first camp, you did get some minutes as a sub which was more than you were expecting. but while sitting on the bench you did find yourself talking to a particular blonde.

“you said you were from kent, didn’t you?” alessia asked as you hummed, a puzzled look growing on your face as you waited for the blonde to carry on. your eyes were glued to the girls running around on the pitch as you sat on the bench with a bright orange bib over your jacket.

“me too! what part?” the blonde asked as you turned your head at the question being slightly caught off guard at the fact she was also from kent.

“um maidstone” you gave her a small smile, your attention turning back to the girls on the pitch as the ball was close to going into the back of the net. alessia gasping making you think she had seen something you had missed on the pitch as well as making you jump a little, “me too!”

you turned back to her, giving her a shocked look. confusion filling you as the two of you spent the rest of camp talking about each others childhood finding out your grew up on the same street as well as going to the same school.

when the next england camp rolled around, you and alessia had became even closer to the point you were counting down the days until you next saw each other.

short and sweet messages turned into hours and hours spent on facetime until the other fell asleep. friendly comments turned into subtle flirty ones and the touches turned to ones that lasted longer than friends and slowly you found yourself falling for the blonde.

the last england camp before the euros in the summer at home had finally arrived, you had arrived at st george’s park with beth and leah but before alessia.

you found yourself sitting patiently in the common room, like a lost puppy waiting for the blonde to walk through the door. the other girls chatting and playing cards in the background.

“kid, if you stare any longer at the doorframe your gonna burn a hole in it!” lucy teased as you glanced away from the doorway for the first time in a least thirty minutes, rolling your eyes at the teasing comment you moved your gaze to fix at watching leah try and beat beth’s high score on the basketball hoop game.

eventually after what felt at least a year to you and fifteen minutes to everyone else - the blonde walked through with ella, as she made a beeline for you as you wrapped her in a tight hug.

the two of you finding a rhythm and falling into a deep conversation about all the things you had forgotten to tell each other over the phone.

“so then me and ella had to stop, so i could get a coffee and she-“ alessia was in the middle of telling you a recount of her journey here before you interrupted her with a big gasp, jumping up out of your seat to find your phone quickly.

“what?” alessia asked as she watched you frantically search for your phone on the beanbag you were sitting on - finding it wedged under the beanbag.

“i have to show you this before i forget!” you said a grin on your face getting bigger with ever swipe your finger did on your phone screen. moving closer to the blonde, your shoulders touching as she peered over your own shoulder wondering what on earth you were about to show her and why was it such a big deal.

"look-" you moved your phone so that it was in her eye line and on your screen was a group school photo, "i don’t get it? what am i looking at?" the blonde asked her squinted her eyes trying to get a better look at the photo.

"there's me and.." you paused as she pointed to herself as a small gasp followed from her, "and there's me" alessia whispered, so quietly you also couldn't hear her. shock has consumed the blonde and you sat back with a smug smile as she examined the photo a little more.

"how’d you find this?" alessia asked as she turned her head back to you, handing you back your phone, "my mum sent me them,, there's more if you swipe across" you said beginning to swipe along your camera roll.

the two of you spent the next hour looking through the photos, some from school and others from your grassroots club, recounting each others side of the memories both of you in shock of how close you to were to each other growing but in reality how far you were to each other.

"we've literally been in the background of each other lives forever" alessia smiled as you nodded. "attached by an invisible string" you added.

the international camp came to an end and you both went back to your respective clubs, this time the two of you were making an effort to see each other without it being on a pitch or about football — so on your days off you went to see alessia and on her days off she came to see you.

your feelings for alessia were growing each time you saw her, her smile was infectious, her blue orbs were the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. but you didn't want to admit your feelings to her in case it ruined your friendship, plus why would she like you back, alessia sees you as a friend and a friend only.

or so you thought.

"less, why don't you just admit you have feelings for the girl!" ella said as she caught the blonde smiling at her phone knowing that she was messaging you.

"w-what" the blonde stuttered her phone dropping into her lap. "less, we can all see that you like her!" ella paused as alessia's cheeks tinted red, "except for y/n - but she definitely likes you too!"

"she does?"

"of course, everyone can see the way you both look at each other!" ella said bumping her shoulder with the older blonde as alessia gave her a small smile and nodded processing the information that had just been given to her.

before the euros came around in the summer alessia managed to make the first move taking you on the first date — a fancy dinner accompanied by going back to her apartment and spending the rest of the night cuddled into each other while watching a film.

the euros had come and you were back with alessia and the rest of the england girls. the tournament had been the best time of your life making unforgettable memories with the girls. slipping in a few dates with alessia when you two had some downtime.

you were just beginning to enter the second half of extra time the score being 1-1 in the final, yes the final at wembley. the little girl inside of you was buzzing with excitement, you couldn't believe you were going to get to play here. your whole family had made the trip to wembley, sitting proudly in the crowd.

it was england's chance to score, germany had conceded the corner. alex was hovering over it to take it as white shirts littered germanys penalty area.

the ball swing in as everyone jumped up, you watched alessia drop to the ground and then watched as chloe poked the ball into the back of the net. chloe running off to celebrate as the stadium erupted, as you all gathered around chloe celebrating.

all you had to do was hold on for the next ten minutes and the trophy was englands.

keeping the ball in the corner, desperately waiting for the final whistle to blow.

germany had one last chance but before it got into the final half the whistle blew, england where european champions.

running to the closest person near you which happened to be leah, engulfing her in a hug as the tears began to fall. "we did it!" you whispered as she hummed, the two of you sniffing and wiping your eyes and going off to celebrate with the others but your eye caught the sight of your favourite blonde moving toward her.

you don't know if it was the adrenaline of the win that was flowing or if you had finally just grew the confidence to say it but after months of dancing around your feelings for the blonde.

you ran up swinging your arm around her neck, as you both cheered before you faced her grabbing her hands, "less! will you be my girlfriend" you blurted out, clearly catching the blonde of guard as her head perked up, alessia thinking she had misheard you before nodding, "yes, a thousand time yes!" 

you smiled bringing the blonde in for a bear hug, not wanting to let go. enjoying her touch, it made you feel safe and loved. as she pulled away she wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you into her, kissing the top of your head lingering there for a few moments.

"all along there's been an invisible string tying me to you."

liked by lucybronze and 915,703 others

alessia day one or one day?

comments -

lucybronze well y/n looks thrilled on the first one

24m 140 likes     reply

-> yourusername she annoyed me that day.

-> alessia how on earth can you remember that?

-> yourusername i can’t? i’m just guessing that you did

yourusername i love you<3

24m 140 likes     reply

-> alessia love you more, my love<33

[srslyblvck]

dating headcanons, tony stark

pairing: tony stark x fem!reader

synopsis: headcanons for dating tony stark

genre: fluff, kissing, making out, suggestive content

word count: 0.6k

Personal Hype Machine: Tony is always bragging about you. Did you open a jar for him? He’ll tell everyone how you could’ve invented the jar yourself.

Endless Spoiling: You just have to glance at something in a store, and the next day, it’s gift-wrapped in your living room. Say you don’t need it? Too bad, it’s already engraved with your initials.

Clingy but Classy: Tony needs to be touching you at all times. Hand-holding, shoulder drapes, waist grabs—he’s glued to your side in the most suave way possible.

Compliments with Extra: “You know, I’m a genius, but dating you was the best decision I ever made,” he’ll say, right before taking you to dinner somewhere with a Michelin star.

Late-Night Workshop Visits: You wander into his workshop to find him tinkering, only to have him abandon his project the moment he sees you. “Break time,” he says, tugging you onto his lap and kissing you senseless, his hands running through your hair as he pulls you even closer.

Jealous? Never: When someone so much as glances your way, Tony smoothly steps in, an arm around you as he casually drops the fact that you’re with him. Him, the billionaire genius superhero. No big deal.

Date Nights of Dreams: Forget simple dinners. He’s setting up rooftop views, complete

PDA, Everywhere: Public spaces are just places to show off how much he loves you, whether it’s a lingering kiss on the cheek or a casual, handsy hug that definitely makes people blush.

Morning Coffee & Endless Pep Talks: Every morning starts with him bringing you coffee and recounting all the ways you’re amazing, sprinkling in a few of his infamous “Tony-isms” for good measure.

“I Wasn’t Eavesdropping…” He knows every single detail about your goals and ambitions, “accidentally” overhearing you and then surprising you with something helpful or wildly extravagant.

“Power Couple” Costume Coordination: If there’s a Stark Industries gala, he insists you both arrive like the powerful duo you are—coordinated outfits that look like they belong on a magazine cover.

Elevator Escapades: On the way up to his penthouse, he stops the elevator between floors with a quick press of a button. "We’ve got, what, 30 seconds?" he says with a smirk, pulling you in close for a heart-pounding kiss. If it goes longer, he’ll just press the stop button again.

Compliments with a Twist: “Who needs a suit when I’ve got you?” He’ll smirk, winking as he implies you’re a better sidekick than any Iron Man tech.

Surprise Getaways: One minute, you’re watching TV; the next, he’s casually suggesting a quick trip to Paris because “you deserve it, and the jet’s already fueled.”

Never-Ending Flirt Mode: Every time he sees you, it’s like he’s meeting you for the first time, showering you with the kind of cheesy, heartfelt pickup lines that actually make you blush.

Ultimate Cuddle Monster: As soon as you’re alone, he’s on you like a magnet, wrapping you in a bear hug and practically making you his personal armchair.

“I Made This For You” Projects: He’s always tinkering with little gadgets, each personalized to make your life easier—or to just make you laugh. “Everyone needs a watch that can also make coffee!”

Protective Without Being Possessive: He’s not controlling, but anyone who tries to mess with you definitely gets the subtle “remember, I’m Iron Man” reminder.

Dancing Anytime, Anywhere: He’ll pull you into a slow dance wherever you are—living room, lab, even in the middle of a grocery store aisle if the song is right.

Spicy & Subtle Teases: Tony’s a master at whispered comments that make your cheeks flush, leaning close with that trademark smirk when he knows he’s flustered you.

Random “Just Because” Texts: Expect messages like, “Have I told you I’m ridiculously in love with you today? Because I am,” when he’s just down the hall.

Constantly Plans the Future with You: Every conversation about future tech, Stark Industries, or even the Avengers has “we” in it. He’s not building a life alone anymore—it’s always you and him against the world.

[gabessquishytum]

Soulmate mark when a person touches their soulmate for the first time; no touching lap dances, because who wants a whore as a soulmate and to find out in the middle of a strip joint.

🫱🏻‍🫲🏼❤️🫱🏼‍🫲🏻❤️🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

Finding your soulmate in this 'verse is generally a joyful thing. When a person touches their soulmate, on bare skin, for the first time you feel it and matching marks appear on the bare skin,,, and continue to appear on touching mates' bare skin for a period of time after the first touch (it's believed that the strongest mate bonds continue to manifest mate marks for years when they touch each other's bare skin.)

🫱🏻‍🫲🏼❤️🫱🏼‍🫲🏻❤️🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

Mated people tend not to work in strip clubs as mates are pretty sacred, and mates tend not to like to share. There are "specialty" clubs where you might find mated stripper,,,,but that's a different story 😉 Suffice to say, the "no touch" rule for lap dances, has a compound reason for existing and generally being enforced without much push back - there are always asses, who get bounced on on those self-same asses for touching their lap dancing stripper.

🫱🏻‍🫲🏼❤️🫱🏼‍🫲🏻❤️🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

Hob didn’t feel like going out, but his friends weren't going to let their friend stay inside and be sad about his most recent break up - it's been like a month.

Hob just wants to find his soulmate; he knows they must be just fabulous. He can't wait to get to know them and shower them in his love and affection! Hob's "love and affection" has more often than not been deemed too much, but Hob just knows that his brand of love will be just right for his soulmate.

❤️

Dream has been stripping since he left his family. He's sure if he went back to the Endless family fold, they would "welcome" him back to their loveless, soulmateless, society, hateful marriages - he's sure that absolute ghoul of a man, Burgess is still around looking to mate with him.

Stripping isn't necessarily conducive to finding a soulmate (not that any of these people who frequent Dream's particular club are people he would want to mate with), with no touching a strictly enforced thing. Still, Dream would really like to meet his perfect match; he might be standoffish, but even he imagines longingly what his soulmate is like.

🫱🏻‍🫲🏼❤️🫱🏼‍🫲🏻❤️🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

A strip club isn't precisely where Hob wanted to be tonight,,,,,, or where he thought he would find and touch his soulmate for the first time.

Omg, such a crazy place for a soul mate meeting! I love it!!!

It all happens very quickly, in the end. Hob’s group of friends are getting rowdy, and he really wants to leave... then again, there is a really cute dancer making the rounds. So he stays a little longer. Dream reaches Hob’s group, and he starts doing his usual routine - lap dances, no touching. Until one of the guys lurches out of the booth to go throw up and knocks Dream to the floor.

Hob, being a gentleman, quickly helps the dancer up. The thing is... Dream is wearing next to nothing. Just a skimpy thong and high heels. So Hob has to touch him to help him up and make sure that nothing is broken.

It's safe to say that the entire club goes still. Hob’s hand is wrapped around Dream’s ribcage, and everyone can see the marks beginning to appear! On Dream’s ribs and Hob's hand - intricate patterns of feathers and infinity symbols.

They apologise simultaneously. Hob is apologising for touching without permission. Dream, well... he's kind of apologising for existing. For being Hob’s soulmate. For being an embarrassment. Hob, sensing this through their newly forming bond, puts his other hand on Dream’s cheek. Tiny jewel-like symbols appear on both of their skins. Hob has never been more love-struck or captivated in his entire life.

Hesitantly, Dream puts his own hand on Hob’s cheek and watches the symbols appear on the stubbly warm skin. It's like watching the sun come out.

Years later, they'll come back to the club - for anniversaries, mainly. Every time they come back, they both have new marks joyfully displayed on their skin. And Hob proudly tells everyone that he met his soulmate in a strip club - because he'll never be ashamed of his independent, beautiful, darling Dream - and because it makes other people sooooo uncomfortable, hehe!

[velchronica]

imperfect love ♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ itoshi sae

maybe i'll cry for a love that isn't perfect yet

but i wanna make endless stories

like the ones hidden inside an old book

or, since meeting you, all itoshi sae wants is a sappy happily ever after with you.

content: established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, sfw

wc: 1.0k

sae falls asleep to the sound of your breaths, the rise and fall of your chest underneath the weight of his arm over your waist. he’d rather fall asleep next to you every night—and most nights he does—but sometimes it simply cannot he helped, so when he’s away from home, he facetimes you until one of you falls asleep or has to go.

he easily falls asleep to your voice over call, phone on the bedside table next to him, and you only hang up once he’s quiet for at least half an hour and is no longer responding to you with a barely-there ‘mhm.’ after all, sae has never been much of a chatterbox to begin with, per se, so it’s not unusual for him to just listen, to savour your voice telling him about your day, to bask in the mimicry of nomalcy as you go about your day as usual on the phone to him, as if he’s there with you.

people are, more often than not, surprised by the sweet and affectionate nature of your longstanding relationship. while you’re all soft smiles, sunshines and rainbows, he’s terse, with sharp edges and a mind and mouth just as sharp. he’s cold, and spares no effort to sugarcoat his opinions nor fake humility to the masses, whereas you are warm and modest, never asking for anything in return for your kindness and hard work. still, despite this, your relationship is built upon strong and sturdy foundations, and the home you have built together is full of love and joy.

where he is can be too closed up, sometimes too wrapped up in himself, you encourage him to be more open-minded and compassionate. where you can be careless and impulsive, he is there to tie up any loose ends you’ve left behind. though your worlds do not excessively collide, they do overlap. while you don’t necessarily need each other to complete your own individual existence, you bring out the better and the best out of one another. you’ve learned through time and patience that symbiosis is often the better alternative to codependency.

there have been ups and downs to your relationships. you’re both only human after all, and no relationship is perfect; with personal flaws can come misunderstandings or miscommunication. the thing that sets successful couples apart from those that break up, however, is how you maintains and manages the things that strain your relationship. to maintain a balance between your independence and your time together is key, especially when sae is away from home so often.

it’s not uncommon for you to fall asleep in sae’s arms, only for the bed to be cold and half-empty in the morning. sometimes his voice or his face over the phone isn’t enough to keep out the doubt and anxiety gnawing at your heart. you don’t want to welcome him home with frustration and tears, but on the rare occasion you do, sae understands. he knows how much trust and faith it takes for you to wait for someone who will leave not long after.

but you also know it was your choice. you knew, when you agreed to start dating sae, that it wasn’t always going to be candy-floss and kitten fluff. you knew how much sae treasured his dreams, his work, his success, how much effort he had poured into crafting the formula to take over the field. you admire him for his tenacity and diligence, and you would never expect him to give up football for you.

you’d never understood why people say you should be willing to sacrifice in a relationship. compromise, yes, but sacrifice? if the person you love can’t accept you for what you are and do, then they don’t love you, not really. at least, that’s what you think.

but that’s why sae is your forever and always. sae loves you for your flaws, not despite them, and that makes all the difference in the world. he never expects you to show him the ‘best side’ of yourself at all times, because he knows how much faith you have in him to bare yourself wholeheartedly to him, to not shy away.

you’re lucky, you think, so unbelievably lucky to have sae in your life. for him to love you. for every day you spend with sae.

unbeknownst to you, sae thinks the same thing. he thinks it so often, hundreds of times a day, and he thinks you’ll say yes if he grabs that little box out of his suitcase and gets on one knee someday soon.

he hopes you’ll cry—tears of joy, not anguish or pain. that way he can wipe them away for you, hold your face in his hands and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow. hold you in his arms like the fool in love he is, so utterly enamoured and enchanted by you.

he doesn’t know how it happened, but he’s not complaining that it did. somewhere along the line he’d ended up completely bewitched by your mellifluous laughter, your sunny smile. there’s something perfect in coming home to you, knowing someone yearns for him in such a way. perhaps it isn’t this penthouse that’s home, but your warm and loving presence. he’s not quite sure. almost, though.

but what he is sure he knows is that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. where he once wanted to write his name into history with a football career like no other, something deep inside would be wholly content to just have the memories of being yours. he wants to spend every day cherishing you, loving you, never yearning from thousands of miles away, but rather holding you close, lovesick and sappier than ever. happier than ever. happier than he’s ever known.

itoshi sae’s happily ever after is a forever after with you.

he can’t believe what you’ve turned him into. a lovesick, lovelorn fool. but still, waking up to the sound of your shallow, breaths, your body curled up into his, and the warmth of your presence—it’s fine.

this is his happily ever after, an imperfect love it may be.

© velchronica 2024

[ilivingonmyway]

Something, something, part II about Ninja Team headcanons! Part I here

Lloyd

• He knows things he shouldn't know. Spending a good part of your life at Darkleys does that to you. That was a school for future gang leaders, psychopaths and other types of crazy people. You can't tell me that at no point in his life did he learn how to dismember someone by the right way.

• He memorized all the names of all Starfare volumes and sagas. He's a complete nerd about these comics. And it's worse when he and Jay are together.

• Sometimes, he goes out with Nya, Pixal and Skylor just to gossip. These four together talk about everything and everyone that exists in the world.

• Even during the few times of peace in Ninjago, he suffers from insomnia. Often because of nightmares and some night terrors, but also because of his genetics. Both the Oni side and the Dragon side are more nocturnal. So he often stayed up all night just because he wasn't really tired and managed to stay that way until dawn.

• Sometimes he finds himself thinking about Akita. Missing her. Those few days with the wolf girl had affected him. As much as Lloyd tries to deny it, it was better than with Harumi, in more ways than one.

• He loves sweets, but not just any kind of sweets. He likes those that are sweet and at the same time refreshing. Because this way he doesn't get sick and can eat more.

• After the battle against the Oni, he often thinks about the "dream" he had about his Grandfather. He told Master Wu once, but he just smiled and said it was a dream.

• He is extremely protective of his family. Brothers, sisters, uncle, children... You will never lay a finger on any of them and leave in Punishment if the DragOni is around.

• Being the Green Ninja and the guy who is on the front line in both defense and attack, he is very precise with his powers and strikes. One stumble and things could turn out to be fatal.

• At some point, he developed Wu's tea addiction and Garmadon's plant worship. This runs in the family and is completely inevitable.

Nya

• Her eyes were brown, exactly the color of wood, like her father's. But after spending a year as part of the ocean, Nya's eyes changed, now having prominent blue-gray spots on the irises. At some point they returned more to brown, but whenever she uses her powers on a large scale, her eyes return to the blue.

• She's better than Kai at making weapons. Swords, axes, clubs, arrows... She always had a lot of free time in her childhood and early teens, and while Kai was busy being a ninja, she had all the time in the world to practice making weapons.

• After she was brought back from the endless sea, for a long time she had these bouts of overpowering. Most of the time this manifested itself in her physical form, with the ends of her hair randomly turning blue and floating as if she were underwater. She also remained with the marks of the transformation, but this has faded over time, almost like a really old scar, you won't notice it unless you're paying close attention.

• She is equally impulsive and the voice of reason. She will think at least 20 times to make sure the punch she will hit you and break your nose.

• Don't be fooled, even though she is usually very calm and is part of the voice of reason trio Zane and Pixal are the other members, Nya can be extremely jealous. She is related to Kai and was raised by him, so she ended up getting this overprotective and jealous instinct. Jay and Lloyd are the main targets of this instinct, because they are her Yin and her little brother. Although she often tries to hide it or not care, she will always end up being somewhat possessive of her loved ones.

• She can still hear the voice of the ocean, more specifically, Nyad. But this time they're not calling out to her, they're congratulating her on finding what she lost.

• She is a master of Aikido, I just think it's matches with her, being the Water Ninja, she long ago learned to go with the flow of the fight. Water never takes you where you want to go, you are the one carried by the force of its flow. Some time later, she trained Lloyd in this style.

• The amount of times she called Kai "dad" as a child is insane. She used to call him that in the most mundane tasks that used to remind her of Ray. Kai held back crying every time that she called him that.

• She was never a heavy sleeper, always having difficulty for fall sleeping and often waking up in the middle of the night. This only got better after she started living at the Monastery, as she felt that so much Kai and she were safer.

• She has a collection of weapons. Swords and spears are what she collects most, she keeps most of them hidden in Samurai X's cave, but there are also some in her room, for emergency purposes and also because she thinks it makes the decor look cool.

Zane

• I got this from some post, but I don't remember who the author was He talks in his sleep. At some point in his life some parts of the voice control were damaged and even after Nya and Jay took a look he continued talking in his sleep. He just can't stop. The worst is on nights when he has nightmares, as he begins not only to scream, but to narrate the dream, right down to the noises in the scene.

• Every time he gets very nervous he starts to freeze himself or the people and things around him. He tends to distance himself when this happens, as he prefers to freeze his own circuits than the people he loves.

• Sometimes he refuses to sleep, not for any worrying reason, but because he wants to do some tasks that he couldn't do while it was daylight. Washing the dishes, sweeping the training yard, putting the clothes to wash... Any household chore that he didn't do due to some unforeseen circumstances, he does at night.

• Whenever he hears an unfamiliar term or slang, he tends to do a quick search. If he doesn't find the meaning, he will ask Jay or Kai later, since they are the two who most spend time online.

• The Ice Emperor episode left him with a lot of trauma as well as some survivor's guilt. Zane never stopped to think that he could actually kill frozen people or commit genocide if his 1s and 0s weren't actually aligned correctly. He never forgave himself and started using his powers less.

• Birds are his favorite animals, of course. But there's one thing no one knows: He can't decide between the hawk or the snowy owl as his favorite kind of bird.

• He has a mental list of all the food preferences of all his ninjas and other friends.

• In the hottest summers, the ninjas fight to spend time with Zane, as he is a walking air conditioner. He finds this particularly funny and always laughs when they start arguing with each other.

• He and Pixal often play board games and experiment human things.

• Before discovering he was a Nindroid, Zane often did non-human things that others found strange. One time, when it was just him, Cole and Jay, they went out on a little scouting mission, and in the middle of the whole thing they ran into some highwaymen who they ended up fighting, and in the middle of the fight, Zane hit his head on a rock, and while Jay and Cole were in complete panic Zane was confused because he didn't feel hurt. The next few days were filled with worry and jokes about Zane being a blockhead.

[drewsephrry]

Congrats on 2k 🥳

Could I pls get 💋 - Blurb for the song “Us” by James Bay

JJ x fem cause it’s such a sweet song and I can’t help but imagine a million JJ scenarios when I hear this 🥰

Thanks I appreciate it !!

thank you so much lovie and thank you for requesting!!🤍🤍

2k celebration!!!

warnings: none, i think

words: 730

There was a time when JJ Maybank’s life was simpler. Golden afternoons spent tearing through the streets of the island with his best friends, cinema nights learning the art of stolen kisses and reckless dreams of freedom. Back then, he believed they’d never grow up, never face the kind of wreckage that leaves you beaten, broken, and searching for answers. But life has a way of unraveling the things you hold most dear.

Now, JJ was struggling to find his footing in a world that felt heavier with each passing day. The laughter had faded, replaced by the echoes of old fights and regretful conversations. He’d tried to move on, tried to drown out the noise. But even through the chaos, through the riots of his mind and the wreckage of his heart, he could still hear your voice.

“JJ, you don’t have to do this alone.” Your words had been soft, steady, and filled with something he didn’t think he deserved. Hope.

“You don’t get it.” He snapped, his voice rough. “You can’t fix me. No one can.”

“I’m not trying to fix you.” You said, your voice breaking just enough for him to notice.

“I just want you to let me in. Let me help.” You confessed.

But JJ didn’t know how. For so long, he’d carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, believing it was his burden alone. He’d been the fighter, the protector. But it had left him scarred and afraid to trust in anything, especially love.

He pulled his hoodie tighter against the cool ocean breeze, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The sun was sinking low, painting the sky in fiery streaks of orange and pink.

It reminded him of better days. Days when life felt endless, the streets were paved with gold, and he believed in something more. But there was no going back. All he could do now was face what lay ahead.

You found him there, sitting on the dock, the weight of the world evident in the way his shoulders sagged. You didn’t say anything at first, just sat beside him, your presence grounding him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” You murmured finally, your voice calm but probing.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” He admitted, his voice cracking under the strain. “I don’t know how to keep fighting when everything feels so… broken.” Your hand found his, your fingers threading through his with a familiarity that soothed him.

“You’re not broken, JJ. You’re just… lost. But that’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.” You exclaimed as JJ laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“You make it sound so easy. But it’s not. It’s never been easy for me.” He revealed.

“No.” You agreed, your gaze unwavering. “It hasn’t. But you’ve always kept going. Even when things got hard. Even when you felt like giving up. That’s what makes you, you.” He wanted to believe you, to believe in your unwavering faith in him, but the doubts still lingered.

“What if I let you down? What if I can’t be what you need?” He murmured.

“The only thing I need is for you to try. To stop running from the people who care about you. To believe in something, even when it’s hard.” You leaned closer, your voice a whisper that cut through his defenses. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sound of the ocean filled the space between you, a steady rhythm that mirrored the quiet war raging inside him.

“I don’t know how to be in this world.” He admitted finally, his voice raw. “How to breathe and not feel like I’m drowning.”

“You don’t have to figure it all out at once. Just… start with me. Start with us.” Your grip on his hand tightened, your words resolute. He looked at you then and in your eyes, he saw hope and adoration. As the sun set, leaving you both in the dark, JJ felt something shift inside him. Maybe it wasn’t about having all the answers. Maybe it was about finding the courage to let someone in, even when it was scary.

“Okay.” He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try.”

And as the night closed in around you, JJ realized that, for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t feel so alone.

A/N: hope you liked this and was something you had in mind!!

[f1writingbyme]

Hi everyone,

This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever written, and I never thought I’d be sharing something so deeply personal. But here I am, reaching out, hoping that someone else out there might understand this journey, this longing, this ache that I’m carrying. I don’t have a big following, so I don’t know if this will reach many people, but if there’s a chance it connects with even one person who’s been through something similar, it’ll be worth it.

My boyfriend and I have been trying to start a family. For over two years, we tried before finally going to our GP, who sent us straight to a clinic. It’s been a year of treatments now, a year of hopeful highs and crushing lows. We tried IUI (intrauterine insemination) four times – four times our hopes rose and fell. Then we turned to ICSI (intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection) because “traditional” IVF wasn’t an option for us.

When I had my egg retrieval, they collected a lot of eggs, but only four turned into embryos. Four. Just four chances to hold onto this dream.

Today, we found out that none of those embryos made it. We’re back to square one. All those hormone shots, every bruise, every drop of blood, every ultrasound, all the mood swings, the endless hoping and praying – only to have to start from scratch. I can’t describe the exhaustion, both physically and emotionally. You go through the medications, the appointments, waiting, and waiting, just to start all over again. It feels like it’s breaking me.

We’re going to try again because we still hold onto this hope of having a baby together. But we also have to face the reality that it may never happen, and that thought shatters my heart. Watching others around me get pregnant, hearing news of new babies… it’s so hard to see, and it fills me with a mix of sadness and anger that I can’t even fully explain. I don’t want to feel this way, but it’s the truth.

I feel so alone in this. None of my close friends or family have faced something like this. I’m reaching out here, hoping to find someone who understands, someone who has been through this kind of pain and hope and heartbreak. I feel like I could just disappear, like the ground could open up and take me in, but here I am, holding onto a sliver of hope that one day, somehow, I’ll get to hold a little miracle in my arms. Until then, I’m trying my best to be patient, even when it feels like it’s breaking me.

I want to thank @lestappenforever, my best friend in the entire world, for being my rock through all of this, even from miles away. You never push, you never overwhelm me with questions — you’re just there, right when I need you. That kind of support means more to me than I can put into words. I love you. ❤️❤️❤️

I don’t know if anyone going through the same thing will see this, but if you do, please reach out. I’m here to talk, to listen, to be there for you, but also to share my story.

You’re not alone in this. Please hold onto that. ❤️

I'm going to be a lot less active on here. I'm sorry for that (if anyone cares) but I need some time to myself. Mona and I will be back on the 1st of December with something fucking amazing which I hope you all love ❤️ I want to thank you all for your support and I love you all.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

to get to this evening with you

Watch a kinda cheesy show, write some kinda cheesy fic! Endless thanks to my lovely @hangsters for the motivation and support.

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

-------

It's the night before his wedding and Evan Buckley needs to things. First, a pep talk from his sister.

And second, to see his future husband.

-------

The position of Buck’s Best Man (he couldn’t think of a good title that didn’t exclude half of the options) was a hotly contested spot. 

Everything else about the wedding planning had gone so smoothly, a couple of quieter shifts, a few late nights spent scrolling through Pinterest, a few nods of agreement from an increasingly bewildered Eddie and every single detail was nailed down inside of a month. The perfect wedding, everything Buck had been dreaming about since he was a kid, as well as a few things he didn’t think he’d ever get to have, all neatly mapped out in a binder that was somehow bigger than Bobby’s binder of earthquake protocols. 

The only missing piece, the only headache, was this. Who out of their 118 family was going to be his best man.

But when he opened the door of his hotel room on the night before the wedding to see his sister Maddie standing there in her pajamas, a four pack of shitty beer dangling from one finger and a knowing smile on her face, he knew he’d made the right decision. 

“Oh thank god,” Buck groaned, sagging against the doorframe in relief. 

Maddie flashed him that smile, the ‘everything’s going to be okay’ smile he’d been anchoring himself to since he was a kid, “I figured you might say that. I also figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep so I thought I’d come to your rescue.”

“You always do,” Buck steps aside to let her in, catching the two cans she throws him with practiced ease, “It’s two in the morning, how did you know I’d be awake?”

Maddie scoffed like he was a bit of an idiot for needing to ask but she loved that he had anyway, “Only every Christmas Eve, the night before every one of your birthdays, every first night of summer break for our entire childhoods? You snuck into my room for every single one because you couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s hard to sleep when you’re excited,” Buck admits, watching his sister flop down on the hotel room’s expansive bed, kicking off her slippers, arms splayed like a starfish. 

It felt good to watch her take up space. He hadn't realized until she came to LA, just how much his sister had been shrinking herself down over the years.

“Excited?” Maddie hummed knowingly, cracking open her beer with a rhythmic hiss and pop, “Or nervous?”

Buck groaned a little, lying beside her. He was suddenly transported back to all those nights Maddie mentioned, feeling so young and so small, not enough space in his body for all the buzzing emotions he was feeling. He’d always hoped that would fade as he grew, that his brain would become more manageable as the cage he kept it in got bigger. 

But of course the worry had just grown along with everything else.

“Is both an option?” he asked hopefully, taking a swallow of the beer and wincing in a way that only had a little to do with the taste. 

“Of course it is!” Maddie nudged him with her knee, “You’re getting married tomorrow, it’s a big deal.”

Buck fidgeted with the tab on his beer, pressing it down and letting it spring back, “But…are people supposed to be nervous the night before they marry the love of their life? Shouldn’t I just be happy? I mean, I am, I can’t wait for tomorrow but I’m also sort of…terrified.”

Maddie rolled onto her side, regarding him, “Buck. Have you ever been just happy? Completely, one hundred percent happy, without any guilt to go along with it?”

“Alright, point taken,” Buck grunted, chasing it down with another mouthful of beer, “Guess we’re not built that way, huh?”

“We most certainly are not,” there was a bitter humor in her voice, the kind you only got the rights to if you had a shitty childhood, “You don’t need to worry about being nervous. I’m sure Eddie’s feeling exactly the same.”

“What, you think Christopher is sitting in Eddie’s room right now, taking up all the space on his bed, drinking terrible beer?”

Maddie laughed along with him, “I mean, ideally without the beer but this is the kind of crap only teenagers can stomach…but yeah, Chris has probably talked Eddie down a couple of times. You know what they’re like.”

Buck smiled at that because, yeah, he did. They were nearly a year out from Chris coming back home to Los Angeles, sometimes it felt like a decade, sometimes it felt like five seconds. It was going to be a long, slow process, figuring out what their family was going to look like now. It was never going to be what it was but some moments, like the look on Christopher’s face when Eddie had asked him to be his best man, told Buck it was going to be something good. 

Maybe it was that thought that gave Buck the courage to unscrew the cap a little, let the words start to pour out, “I just…I know how much trust Eddie’s putting in me with this. He already went through a marriage and had it fall apart and lost his best friend. He’s had his family try and take Christopher away from him and he worked so hard to get him back. He was so…closed off when I met him and I get why, he was trying to protect himself after everything that happened.”

Maddie perched her head on one hand, voice gentle, “But he opened up for you, Buck.”

“And I just want to be…worth that,” Buck tried to find the right words, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning back against the headboard, “I just want to make him this life where he never has to worry about Christopher, he never has to be alone or afraid and he never has to feel bad about who he is. And…and what if I can’t?”

“Buck, you can’t,” Maddie sighed sadly, “No one could.” 

“I know that,” Buck grimaced a little, feeling like a child having to be told Santa wasn’t real, “I mean, God, I don’t have to tell you I didn’t have the best role models for a healthy marriage growing up.”

Maddie tipped her can to him in a dry salute, “Hey, I gave you an excellent example of what not to do? And neither you nor Eddie are abusive assholes so clearly the message got through.”

“And I’m not going to be our parents either,” Buck voice tightened with determination, “But every relationship I’ve had before Eddie has just fallen apart and…and, even if I manage not to screw things up, hurt him when I don’t mean to, there’s all the stuff I can’t control? I mean, for God’s sake, I could go to work the first day back after our honeymoon, put one foot wrong and make Eddie a widower twice over?”

Maddie stayed quiet for a moment, like she had to remember how to shoulder that reality before she could speak, “Eddie knows that Buck. Same as Athena knows it when she sends Bobby out the door, same as I know when I sent Chimney. But whenever I feel those thoughts getting loud, I tell myself that I could crash my car on the way to work, an anvil could fall off some scaffolding and land on my head, I could fall down a loose manhole into the sewer-”

“No you couldn’t, they’re made of cast iron so the weight is distributed evenly and there’s no pivot point,” Buck grumbled, “But you’ve made your point, Mads, I don’t need a longer list of things to worry about...”

“Exactly,” Maddie couldn’t help a smile, shifting onto her knees so she could lean in and tap him on the forehead, like she was drilling the words through his skull, “And my point is that loving someone is always a risk. But it’s a risk we decide is worth taking for our person.”

Buck looked at her, eyes soft and pleading, “I planned the perfect wedding for us. I just wish I could plan the perfect life too, be the perfect husband he deserves.”

Maddie’s hand fell to squeeze her brother’s, in that way that had always meant listen up, “Buck, Eddie doesn’t want a perfect version of you. He just wants you.”

Buck found himself blinking hard, folding until his forehead touched her shoulder, his answer to that squeeze of the hand since he hadn’t needed to bend at all, “Thanks, Maddie…”

“Hey. This is why you made me your best man, right?” she grinned.

“Of course. I definitely didn’t just panic and pick someone at random…”

Maddie cackled, shoving Buck off the bed, “Oh my god, shut up, go see Eddie.”

Buck managed to catch his feet without spilling a drop of his beer on the hotel carpet that was soft enough to cost more than he made in a month. He finished the rest of the can in two swallows, just to be on the safe side. 

“I think that might be against the wedding rules?” he pointed out, even as he cast about for his shoes, “Me and Eddie aren’t supposed to see each other until tomorrow.” 

Maddie gave a derisive snort, “Oh yeah and you two have always followed the rules, haven’t you? Come on. You need him right now, you go and see him.” 

Buck’s smile broke into a laugh because, of course, she was right. He did need to see Eddie.

“Your sneakers are over by the couch,” Maddie pointed out before he could even ask, snuggling back down into his bed.

Buck shoved his feet into them, raising an eyebrow at her, “You sleeping in here?”

“You’re not coming back. And I don’t want to wake Chim as early as I’m gonna have to get up to drag you back here and get you looking presentable,” 

“And you get to watch more episodes of your dumb mystery show without him?” Buck smirked as she picked up the TV remote.

“He talks during them!” Maddie waved a dismissive hand at him, “Shut up, go!”

Buck went, only pausing once at the doorway. He’d learned to never leave any of his family without saying one thing first. 

“Love you, Maddie.”

She smiled back at him, the kind of smile that grew until it spilled over into a grin. People had always told the Buckley siblings they only really looked like each other when they smiled, at least when they were kids. In the years since Maddie left home, when she’d stopped smiling like that, it had hurt Buck to know they’d lost that similarity, that someone looking at them side by side might never think they were siblings. 

But looking at Maddie now, it was like looking in a mirror. Two kids who hadn’t been built to be happy but they were learning. 

“Love you too, Buck,” his sister grinned.

The ranch house turned hotel Buck had finally decided on for their wedding venue was perfect. It was all oak panels and iron accents and willow trees holding court along a brook, exactly what he’d wanted, the kind of old fashioned, rugged beauty he’d fallen in love with watching Westerns and reading adventure books as a kid.

However, that also meant every single floorboard Buck stood on sounded like a firecracker. Not ideal for trying to sneak down a hallway past rooms that contained his nearest and dearest, people he didn’t really want to know he was up to right now, even if the wedding rules were stupid. There was a lot of wincing and freezing in place, trying to navigate a minefield of loud noise before nearly jumping out of his skin when a door opened just ahead on his left. 

Eddie stuck his head around the door, voice a fondly exasperated whisper, hand already outstretched to pull Buck into the room, “There you are! Took you long enough.”

Buck just about managed to hold in his delighted laughter until the door was closed behind them. 

The urge to pull him close and kiss him was almost too strong to ignore but made himself pause, he made himself just look at Eddie. He clearly hadn’t been sleeping either, his dark hair was sticking up in tufts, his eyes were blurry, the old t-shirt and shorts he wore were creased from tossing and turning. He was just about the most beautiful thing Buck had ever seen. 

“I needed to see you,” he murmured, he’d known it was true but saying the words turned it into something concrete, like the sky being blue or gravity pulling things towards the center of the Earth. 

Eddie tilted his head gently, leaning so his weight pressed Buck against the door, that warm solid weight that held Buck together when he needed it, “I know. Because I needed to see you too.”

That turned holding off on kissing him from difficult to impossible. Buck was smiling as their lips met, as Eddie’s hand wound into his curls and anchored there, as his hips pushed up and Eddie’s pushed down. One kiss turned into two, into three, the ground underneath Buck feeling more steady with each one. 

“You wanna talk?” Eddie breathed out along with a sigh, head resting on Buck’s shoulder for a heartbeat while they caught their breath. 

“No,” Buck answered honestly, “I want this.”

Eddie nodded, accepting that easily, pulling him towards the bed, “Then it’s yours.”

They tumbled together, the world continuing to spin even after they sank into the blankets, as Eddie kissed Buck down into the mattress again and again. Each brush of his teeth against Buck’s lip, each time his tongue slid against his own, each gasp he drew from Buck's throat, unwound him more and more. So many times he’d wished for a way to turn off his racing mind and Eddie Diaz had been holding the switch all along, able to just touch him and narrow the whole world down to only them.

“Feel like I’m making you break the rules…” Buck gave a ragged, breathless laugh as Eddie pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside.

Eddie’s smirk was playful, hungry, “Buck, we’re already breaking every rule I was ever taught about marriage. One of the reasons it’s so much fun.”

Buck felt a shiver run down the length of him at that, breath hitching, “What are the other reasons?”

Eddie slid Buck’s shorts down his legs, sending them overboard to follow his shirt. His pupils blew wide as he opened Buck’s thighs, tongue caught between his teeth, an expression of pure awe like he was struggling to believe he was really here, spread wide for him.

“You,” Eddie said simply, his voice shaking just a little, “The rest is all you, Buck.”

He knelt between his legs, tongue quick and eager. When it touched the heat between Buck’s thighs, he hissed, the sound a fire makes when it’s finally doused with water, a kind of desperate relief. 

“Oh baby…” he moaned, legs sliding across Eddie’s broad back, one arm thrown over his mouth, the other gripping the headboard tight.

Eddie only pressed deeper, firmer, knowing that Buck liked to be flooded, overwhelmed. He didn’t pause for a moment, nosing at his aching cock while his tongue lapped, while his teeth grazed his lips. His hands gripped Buck’s thighs, thumbs stroking over the soft hairs there, the muscles of his back flexing rhythmically against his legs as his whole body worked to eat Buck out. 

Buck was helpless, caught in the tide of it all, left to muffle his cries as best he could against his own arm and hold on for dear life. He groaned, he gave strangled gasps, he whimpered Eddie’s name so many times he half expected it to be tattooed on his skin where his lips had been. He writhed, just to give them both the pleasure of Eddie pinning him, having to leverage his whole weight to keep Buck trembling there, sucking and mouthing at him until he was completely undone. 

Buck came without warning, even to himself, the tension just broke and he was falling. There was that throbbing, pulsing moment of all consuming release before he broke through and could breathe again. 

“Fuck…” he moaned, voice a faint tremor, expecting to see smoke rising from his skin as he reached down for Eddie, who was stripping off himself, “That was…”

“Just the start,” Eddie finished, moving up to hold him, arms locking securely around his waist, as safe as any harness has ever held him on the job, “Just warming you up, baby.”

Buck groaned in relief, clinging to him, pressing his heels into the small of his back to urge him on, “Thank fuck…”

Eddie was so hard his cock seemed to burn against Buck’s inner thigh, his pulse thudding just under his skin. 

“Were you thinking about me? Before I came to see you?” Buck purred, shifting until he felt the tip of Eddie’s dick resting against his entrance, “You’re pretty damn worked up.”

Any part of Eddie’s face that wasn’t already flushed turned pink, the smile that he pressed against Buck’s bare shoulder was playfully crooked, “What else am I supposed to be doing the night before marrying the man of my dreams?”

Buck shivered happily, hips twitching in impatience, “Fucking him.”

Eddie gave a growl of laughter and pressed in all the way, until there wasn’t a spare inch of space between their bodies, until he’d drawn a high, thin whine from Buck, “Better get on that then…”

They moved easily, rhythmically, two people who had been practicing the same dance over and over but still found joy and freedom and flight in every step. Buck had grown up always feeling like he wasn’t enough, like there were parts of him missing but, in Eddie’s arms, with Eddie’s heartbeat hammering against his own, he realized what it was to feel completely whole. More than enough. 

“Eddie…” he gasped, face tense as their bodies rolled, “Fuck, that’s it…”

Eddie panted heavily, snatching kisses in between low moans and ragged breaths, “All yours. All of it.”

He turned suddenly, pulling Buck over him so now he knelt on the bed, riding Eddie. Buck gave a strangled cry as Eddie’s cock was driven that much deeper inside him, bouncing hard without so much as missing a beat. The place where their bodies joined became the anchor of the whole universe, the only sounds in the world were the sounds of their hips slapping together, their desperate breath misting the air, the only heat came from Eddie’s hands as they splayed against his ass and the small of his back. The dance was becoming heedless, stumbling, something wilder and every bit as beautiful. 

Buck could hear his own pulse in his ears, bending back into those hands, spine arched like he was held in a physical grip, in the claws of something so much bigger than him. Already reeling from his last orgasm, his nerves were sparking, splitting, about to ignite. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold on for much longer, all he could do was hope Eddie was ready to burn with him.

“Eddie…” he panted, his voice rattling with their frantic motions. 

They’d never needed more than a word to know what the other meant, “I’m here, I’m with you baby. Together.”

Buck had always thought sex was something that made you feel small, less than you were before you started. He’d been so desperate to be wanted, to be held and desired just for the person that he was, but the meaningless hookups he’d chased would never fill that need. He told himself he wanted touch, he wanted that ten seconds of pleasure, because finding it was easy. He’d slapped a band aid over a torn artery and told himself he was fine, ignoring the hollow, aching feeling when he’d be left alone in an empty bed, everything drained out of him. 

But when Eddie said together, it was a promise. 

When Eddie’s hips snapped upwards, so hard that Buck was lifted clear off the bed by a good few inches, when he flooded him with heat that seemed to reach right up to his chest, he knew they were together. More one body than two, more whole than they ever could be apart. Buck came, hard, harder than he ever had with anyone else but, more than that, when he slumped down like a puppet with its strings cut, Eddie was there to catch him. And Buck never doubted for a moment that he would be. 

“That…that was definitely against the rules…” Eddie panted, voice raw and ragged at the edges, fraying until the laughter came through.

Buck moaned, pressing a kiss to the place where he felt Eddie’s heart throwing itself against his ribcage, like he was soothing it, “Good.”

“Do you want to talk now?” Eddie murmured, turning when Buck finally had the strength to uncouple them, cuddling close into his side to make up for the distance. 

Buck thought for a moment before shaking his head, smiling, “Nah…think I got everything I needed there.”

“Last minute nerves?” Eddie guessed, voice light as his touch, stroking a curl back from Buck’s sweaty forehead. 

“Yeah…” his smile turned coy, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm, “I haven’t got cold feet, don’t worry. I just needed to remember why we’re doing this. Why it’s worth it.”

Eddie clasped his hand tight like it held something precious, shaking his head. Buck didn’t need to explain himself with him, he never had. 

“I know, baby,” he let their foreheads naturally rest against each other, their bodies fitting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces, so they’d be the last things they saw before drifting to sleep and the first things they’d see when they woke up, “And you’re feeling okay now?”

Buck just let himself be held, grinning, “Yeah. Because I love you.”

“I love you too…” Eddie said the words so softly but they were the ones that held the universe together for Buck.

The nervousness, the anxiety, it was still there, somewhere in the back of his mind. It always would be, just like Maddie had said. But as Buck felt himself finally relax enough for sleep to find him, he knew that he and Eddie would face that uncertainty the exact same way they’d start their first day of married life. 

Together. 

[beanghostprincess]

What’s so fascinating about shuggy that makes you go this wild? Aren’t shanks completely over this guy? And buggy just bitter? Am I interpreting it wrong?

I'm not gonna ask whether you want the short or the long version, because I'm gonna give you the longest, gayest version no matter what you tell me. So. Yeah. I think I'm kind of crazy about them but in a very normal way (I just lied on the internet). I'm gonna answer your last three questions before actually getting into the subject of why Shuggy makes me go so wild:

(Spoilers: manga ch.1082 and that Wano flashback)

Shanks being "completely over this guy" would be a very simple way to put his feelings for Buggy into words, I think. Although the fandom exaggerates the way he feels for him (turning into obsession and just complete depression) for fun or for angst purposes (I must say I don't really dislike it and I do believe Shanks still holds Buggy close to his heart in this way, and if we talk in a shippy way, he's definitely the clingy one) I think Shanks isn't completely over Buggy. At least not in the cynical way some people say. I think that after parting ways, Shanks accepted Buggy leaving him. I don't think he quite understands his reasons (he never will, tbh) but accepted his decision. I think he tried to choose the more mature way (not that he had other options) and moved on. But moving on doesn't mean forgetting or being completely over someone, because I wholeheartedly think that even if Buggy isn't on his mind 24/7, he's still one of the most important people in Shanks' life and story. Buggy is there in the back of his mind like a catchy song you can't get rid of, you know? It itches sometimes, too, but Shanks can't do anything about it so he just lives with it. To Shanks, he would gladly reconnect with Buggy and go back to the way they were in the blink of an eye, but he knows it can't be. I think Shanks has moved on but the second somebody mentions Buggy he goes into nostalgia mode and thinks about their times together back when they were just kids with endless dreams aboard the Oro Jackson. I think Shanks has more things to worry about than his past to be the way the fandom portrays him, but that doesn't mean he has completely forgotten about it and doesn't want Buggy back. Because he definitely does.

Buggy is- He isn't just bitter. I don't think you can say Buggy is just bitter when Shanks' decision was what determined his whole life. Leaving the thing about the map and the devil fruit aside (which also affects the story but we know his resentment isn't really about that) Buggy has every right to feel the way he does towards Shanks. Perhaps it's just that I find this pathetic clown to be very relatable, but I will always be both a Buggy apologist and defender. I'll probably get into a more detailed version of this later, but Buggy isn't just bitter. Buggy is rightfully frustrated at how his life ended up to be without Shanks. "But he's the one who left Shanks"... Is he, though? He did leave Shanks physically, but Shanks was the first to break the relationship. The thing about Buggy that I absolutely love is how his character portrays envy and jealousy into a... I wouldn't say healthy way, but at least not a damaging way to Shanks. Despite fighting all the time, they obviously loved and cared for each other. Being best friends and the youngest of the crew, always together in both the worst and best of their moments, etc. So Buggy, even though he lived as Shanks' shadow, that isn't why he's resentful towards him. He could be angry about that, right? Just bitter Roger chose him to keep his legacy alive instead of him. But no. Buggy chose to follow Shanks instead because he trusted him. Because he thought "Well, I might not be able to follow my dream, but Shanks will do it for us as our captain's legacy". Which makes sense because they were so damn close. They're always together. Like. Just watch/read the Oden flashback. Their presentation was even together, lmfao. And when they talk about them, they mention them together. The whole thing about Shanks not going to Laugh Tale to take care of Buggy? It's just- It's just so obvious that they were best friends and intended to be together forever. Buggy was willing to follow Shanks until the end of the world until Shanks hesitated when asked about following Roger's steps (Buggy doesn't actually say he'll be in Shanks' crew, but the way he reacts to Shanks' words makes me think he would've accepted to go with him as a co-captain until... Well. Yeah. That happened). And like, I get it. Shanks knew they were too young. Shanks knew they needed to grow up and live more experiences as pirates before going to Laugh Tale and for the One Piece. For Shanks it's just a little pause before they actually fulfill their dreams. But for Buggy? For Buggy, his whole world is crumbling down because the person he trusted the most literally told him he wasn't going to follow their dream. For Buggy, Shanks doesn't take the role of Roger's legacy seriously enough, so it's unfair. It's unfair that he had to leave his dream behind for him. It's unfair that he trusted him. It's unfair that Shanks didn't believe in himself. It's unfair that their captain died. It's unfair that now Buggy has to be completely on his own, with no ability to swim and no map to follow because Shanks also ruined that for him. So, yeah, Buggy is a bit more than just bitter, and rightfully so. It's classic miscommunication because obviously, Shanks wasn't going to give up on going to Laugh Tale, but Buggy takes it that way. And he also sees it as Shanks doubting himself and the dream and it's unfair that the one who got the straw hat is the one to hesitate, and the one who didn't get anything is the one who wants to fight for their dream. Buggy is more than just bitter. I know it's played for laughs, but his grudge towards Shanks is deeper than that.

You are not interpreting it wrong, tbh. I think the fandom just exaggerates their behavior and in canon you pretty much have to analyze the characters to fully understand them. If you're not a fan of these two characters, their whole relationship can feel like "Oh, they were just friends in the same crew" even when it's way deeper than that. Although I think chapter 1082 (my favorite chapter ngl I've read it so many times google instantly shows it to me when I look for the page where I read OP) explains what I just said pretty well from Buggy's POV.

So now onto the real question, what's so fascinating about Shuggy?

I'm gonna be honest with you, before writing this I have to say that I have a tendency to love these types of ships. Soukoku (BSD) and Satosugu (JJK) are no exception and they follow the same "former BFFs/partners who turned into enemies and are very very gay". The reason I like these three ships so much is probably because of personal experiences I'm not gonna talk about, but somebody mentioned something very interesting about lesbians/sapphics relating to these ships because we always have this experience about having a really close girl bff that we have a crush on, but since we don't acknowledge the real feelings, it ends up in a very toxic way that leads only to resentment and nostalgia. And, you know, as a lesbian who has been through that I can confirm wholeheartedly that this is why Shuggy is so important to me (considering Shuggy a ship for the lesbians in my heart </3)

Leaving that aside and the fact that childhood best friends to lovers is like my favorite trope, I just think their characters are so perfectly written. And it's surprising because they barely have scenes talking about each other or being with each other (Marineford is Shuggys' Roman Empire atp, although I will always remember that first flashback in episode 8 in the anime. That changed my life fr). But their story is made with so much care and love for the characters (it's obvious Oda likes Buggy a lot) that you can feel it. At least I do. Because although not having many scenes they've completely taken over my heart and soul.

Shanks is a very complicated character due to lack of information and the fact that we know he hides something deeper, but he is, after all, a symbol of hope and dreams. At least for our main character. Shanks is the main reason why Luffy becomes a pirate and there are so many parallelisms between them that I can't count them. I find it so ironic that the symbol of hope and freedom Luffy follows is actually somebody who crushed somebody's dreams and hopes. Talk about irony, right? And then we have Buggy, who's the complete opposite. With Buggy's first appearance (and honestly all of his scenes until the Wano flashback and chapter 1082) we think he's one of the bad guys. And yeah, all of them are like that because they're pirates and yadda yadda. But I'm talking about "bad guy" as in "bad bad person with no hopes and dreams and that is just interested in being feared and powerful". And he is a failguy. A very funny one, too. But he's so much more. And the fact that this comedic relief character that's always played for laughs when it comes to his own misery turns out to be the one who has the biggest of dreams and the biggest of heartbreaks about it? It just shatters my heart.

Shuggy makes me go wild because of Buggy, mostly, ngl. I wouldn't like Shanks this much if it wasn't for Shuggy, probably (I love him a ton outside of his relationship with Buggy, but you know, it makes things a lot easier). I like Shuggy because the topics the ship touches are very emotional and angsty and they crush me completely. Buggy living in Shanks' shadow? Buggy wanting to follow Roger's steps and following Shanks instead because his self-esteem disappeared the moment his captain's legacy ended up on Shanks instead of him? The trust he had in Shanks? The way Shanks hesitates and the way Buggy refuses to follow somebody like that? Buggy running away on his own because he gave up his dream for somebody who doesn't even treat it the way it deserves? It's just heartbreaking. Especially if you have in mind that they just lost the man that raised them.

Buggy then becomes somebody that people make fun of and ridicule, and they don't even think about the possibility of him being part of the crew of the king of the pirates. And when they find out, they can't believe it. They don't talk about this much, but I think that it must hurt so fucking much to be seen this way. He was just as important as Shanks. Roger loved him too. And to this day, being Shanks' shadow still haunts him. I love the angst Shuggy has. It breaks me and I love it.

Then, (and this is something I adore) with the creation of Cross Guild, Buggy has the chance to get out of Shanks' shadow. He's surrounded by two guys who only think about money and stability and business and... It's boring, isn't it? It's not flashy! And I think he has this realization of "this is my chance to prove I'm worth something. This is my chance to actually go for my dream. Mine" because these two idiots keep talking about boring things instead of following their dreams and aspirations and bigger things! And it just shows how much Buggy truly cared about Laugh Tale and the One Piece and how much he has had to wait for it. And this has nothing to do with Shuggy, I just really love this fucking clown.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that I love Shanks making Buggy lose the map and eat the devil fruit. Because, okay, in retrospect it feels very stupid because it was a simple accident. But just hear me out- Even though it was an accident, Buggy lost his ability to swim for powers he didn't want. He lost the ability of independence, because what's a pirate on his own if he can't swim? He lost his individuality that night, and we see him depend on others constantly throughout the show. And Shanks mentioning that Buggy is a great swimmer? Oh, fuck you Oda for making me cry so early in the show. Then, the map. He lost his individuality and then he lost the only thing that led him to a future with treasures and his dreams. Then again, losing his independence because he couldn't just go on his own without a map. Fucking great. The fact that Shanks jumps to rescue him the second Buggy starts to drown haunts me at night, too. They're just so-- Ugh.

But Shuggy is not everything about Buggy's resentment and angst. And it's not about Shanks missing him and wanting his best friend back because he doesn't know what happened for him to run away so easily.

It's also about unconditional love, and I am so passionate about that. Shanks care and love for Buggy is something the fandom exaggerates but... These people are not wrong, tbh. Shanks gave up his dream to go to Laugh Tale (postponed it) to stay with Buggy and take care of him because he was sick. Shanks is a very selfless person all the way, and when it comes to Buggy it seems that he doesn't hesitate to put him first (in serious situations. Their usual arguments don't count. They're just stupid, and love to argue and fight like the divorced couple they are). And besides, this happens right in the same episode after Toki gets sick and Oden wants to take care of her but she forces him to follow his dream and leave her behind. Like- What the actual fuck. Ah, yes, parallel the main couple in the Wano arc. I'm sure that's not romantic at all. The difference is that Shanks stayed. And god, does that hurt. Especially when he says they'll go on their own one day, because it shows he cared about Laugh Tale too (I mean, ofc, but from Buggy's POV it's just different).

To end this I also want to say that, leaving the whole deep analysis behind: Their personalities just match. They're funny to watch. They're cute. They have an angsty story behind them. They won't stop arguing like little kids but they care for each other still. They are chaotic. They're just... Perfect for each other.

Hope you liked my tiny essay about them because I could've kept going on and on and on about it, but some people (like me, sadly) have to wake up early tomorrow to work instead of just posting about gay fictional characters (somebody please pay me to do these things and I'll stay on tumblr 24/7).

[seiya-starsniper]

Six Degrees of Separation - Ch 5 (Sandman x Dead Boy Detectives)

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Crystal Palace/Charles Rowland (DCU), Johanna Constantine/Jenny Green

Rating: Teen & Up | Status: Incomplete | Chapters 5/6 | Words: 9.3K

Tags: POV Multiple, Hob Gadling gives live advice to a bunch of teenagers, while helping them solve cases, that's it that's the fic, also he maybe plays matchmaker for his hot mess bestie, fic starts out as crystal/charles and ends with charles/edwin, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Hob Gadling adopts the Dead Boy Detectives

Tumblr Posts: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4

Read Chapter 5 below, or at the above link on AO3

Charles and Crystal call it quits after only four months of dating. They tried, they really did, but there’s way too many other things that Crystal’s worried about right now that just make dating impossible for her. 

For one, she still has David buried in a corner of her brain, and he’s already made two attempts this month to try and break out. Crystal desperately needs to find a way to get rid of him completely, before he could wreak havoc on her body without her permission again. Not to mention Crystal’s been trying really hard to make up for all the horrible things she did while she was possessed by David. Each day, it seems like she crosses one item off the list only to find two more things she hadn’t remembered before.

And that’s the other thing, Crystal’s fully back in London now, trying to pick her life back up where she left off, and that includes interacting with living people, people who can’t otherwise see Charles and Edwin. She still makes time to help the boys with their cases, but most of her involvement is now restricted to late nights and weekends, and even then, her old friends now think she’s some sort of weird shut in when she declines invite after invite to some party here or a nightclub event there. 

Crystal doesn’t know how she previously managed to live the way she did before. Going out to parties every single night, skipping classes until she got kicked out of every private school her parents used their money to get her into, getting into fights with literally everyone. There’s just so much that she did wrong, she’s surprised she had any friends left to go back to. And even then, none of them trust that she’s turned over a new leaf, that she wants to be better. Some of them even think she’s just putting up an act for some guy, and that once he dumps her she’ll go back to being the same old Crystal.

The worst part is, she is— was —doing just that. Being part of the Dead Boy Detectives made Crystal feel good , like if she somehow saved enough souls, helped enough people, she could make up for some of the awful things she’d forced people to do when she abused her psychic powers. There weren't a lot of things she could outright apologize to the wronged parties for, not without revealing that she had powers in the first place. 

Being with Charles too, that had made her feel good. Charles was so much nicer than all the other boys she’d loved before, he was earnest, kind, and optimistic, even if that last trait annoyed her from time to time. Charles was patient with her too, he always offered her a word of comfort and a shoulder to cry on as Crystal struggled to reconcile her memories of the past with who she was now.

It still wasn’t enough. And they both knew it. Charles was still terrible about opening up about his insecurities, and Crystal still had a bad temper. They fought a lot, sometimes about Crystal’s mean personality, and sometimes about Charles' hero complex. Charles had nearly died on a case more than once, and even though Crystal, Edwin and even the fucking Night Nurse had scolded him about his recklessness, Charles had brushed them off and retreated back into his sunny, optimistic personality. She also hated that even though Charles could manifest a somewhat physical form to cuddle with her at night, Crystal still inevitably woke up alone, because ghosts don’t sleep, and the Dead Boy Detectives are always on the clock.

So, in the end, a breakup was inevitable, but she doesn’t regret it, even if things are going to be awkward for a little bit. 

Johanna and Jenny take her out for a girl’s night when it happens, but that just ends up reminding Crystal of what she very much doesn’t have. It’s not like Johanna and Jenny are the gross PDA type of couple, but there’s no denying that they’re madly, stupidly in love with one another, even if the two of them try to hide it with sarcasm and friendly jabs. 

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

“I want what Jenny and Johanna have,” Crystal confesses to Hob later over a plate of fish and chips. “I mean—not the girlfriend part. Actually wait, I don’t know about that either,” she adds, nibbling on a particularly crispy chip. “We’ll put a pin in that, for now. But what I actually meant was—I want to love someone who’s alive . Is that terrible of me? Charles can’t help what he is, but—”

“It’s not terrible,” Hob interrupts her before she can spiral into a mess of self-loathing and guilt. “You’re going to eventually grow older, become an adult, and Charles won’t. It’s neither of your faults, that’s just the way it is.”

“Yeah,” Crystal agrees, sighing. “We had a short shelf life to begin with, but it still sucks, ” she laments. 

Hob nods, then takes a sip of his beer. “I understand, sort of anyways. Never tried to date a ghost before, but, well, every relationship is a short one when you can’t die.”

“Really? You’ve never tried to like, date a vampire or some other immortal?” Crystal asks. “Or is it because you’re holding out for your situationship to work out?”

Hob groans. “For the last time we’re just—”

“Yeah, yeah, friends,” Crystal interrupts him, rolling her eyes, before she brazenly steals a crisp off Hob’s plate. “At least I have someone to talk to who’s also miserable and single, I guess.” 

“Misery does in fact, love company,” Hob agrees with a laugh before he holds up his beer to her. “I’ll drink to that.”

“I would drink, but someone won’t serve me alcohol while I’m here,” Crystal snarks, holding up her lemonade. She may or may not have spiked it while Hob wasn’t looking.

“Laws are laws, Crystal,” Hob replies, clinking their glasses together. “And no, I don’t want to know if you added anything to your own drink, let me be a responsible bar owner for once, please, ” he adds, and Crystal laughs. They toast, and then Crystal checks her phone and responds to messages, while Hob grades a few more papers. 

“So how come I haven’t met your situationship yet, anyways?” Crystal asks, breaking the silence. Hob groans. 

“Let’s switch to a different topic,” the older man says, before his face lights up. “Crystal, what do you think about enrolling in University next year?”

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

Things slowly fall back into place as Charles practically glues himself to Edwin’s side now that he and Crystal have called it quits. Crystal also finally draws some boundaries on how many late nights she can actually afford to give them to help with solving cases. Edwin is more than generous with giving her some slack, and Crystal sometimes bitterly wonders if he’s only being so kind because it gives him more alone time with Charles.

Right. Negative thinking is definitely the first thing that she needs to work on. 

So Crystal lets herself rest, lets herself slowly work on sorting out her relationship with her friends, her parents, and all the other living people in her life. She lets herself grieve Niko. She makes Hob and Johanna help her lookup ways to banish David from her brain for good. 

It helps. And slowly, slowly, Crystal starts to feel better about herself.

Of course, right around the same time that happens, Edwin nearly dies (permanently) when someone stabs him with an iron knife. The noise Edwin makes is not something Crystal ever wants to hear ever again. She desperately holds his hand while Charles sprints back to the office, searching desperately for 

“Don’t you dare die on me, Edwin,” Crystal says, squeezing Edwin’s hand as tightly as she can manage. 

“I–I,” Edwin coughs, then groans in pain. “I’m already dead, Crystal.”

“Fuck off,” Crystal bites back, but she smiles, despite herself. “You’re going to be okay. Charles is getting the book that’ll heal you and you’re going to be just fine.”

“I know,” Edwin says, then coughs again.

Charles comes back what feels like hours later, a large book in hand. He starts reciting the spell in a language Crystal’s never heard before, and when the last of the iron damage disappears, he pulls Edwin into a bone crushing hug that somehow turns into a desperate kiss between the two of them. 

Crystal quickly makes herself scarce, already deciding to drown her sorrows at The New Inn. 

Jenny brings her the most ridiculous looking fudge sundae, and Hob doesn’t even say anything when Crystal takes out her flask and pours vodka into the lemonade he serves her. He doesn’t open a tab either.

“Well, can't say I wasn't expecting that,” Crystal says, as she recalls how the night ended. She sighs and takes a deep gulp of her spiked drink, not really caring that Hob was looking at her disapprovingly. “More of a matter of when it would happen, really.”

“You gonna be okay?” Jenny asks her, clearly concerned. Crystal laughs because if Jenny was worried about her, then Crystal really must look like shit right now. Still, she nods and then takes another large bite of her sundae. 

“Yeah. I’m the one who broke up with Charles after all,” Crystal says, then sighs again. “They really are made for each other aren't they?”

“Yeah,” Hob agrees, before sliding a glass of water in front of her. “They are.”

Crystal rolls her eyes, but sips at the water anyways. Hob had given her a little umbrella with her cup, it would be a crime not to drink it. 

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

Funny enough, it's Edwin that corners her first the day after witnessing the awkward kiss.

“Charles is researching something,” Edwin tells her, which Crystal knows is Edwin speak for ‘I kicked him out so we could talk alone.’

“We don't need to talk about it, Edwin,” Crystal sighs, rubbing her forehead. Even with Hob practically forcing water on her yesterday, she still had a headache, and it was way too early in the morning to be having a feelings discussion. “It's fine. Really. We're cool. It's not like it wasn't obvious how you two felt about each other from the start,” she adds, trying not to sound bitter about the whole ordeal. 

“I assure you, nothing was obvious to either me, or Charles,” Edwin says. “And…well. It was still rather impolite to—how did you say it—‘make a move’ on your ex?”

Crystal snorts. “Technically, Charles made the move, not you,” she replies, recalling how Charles had just gravitated towards Edwin like he always had. Edwin simply hadn’t protested when it finally happened.

“Semantics,” Edwin says, waving a hand. “But Crystal,” he says, looking at her very seriously now. “I do not wish there to be any bad blood between us. You are—our friend.” 

Crystal brightens immediately. “You just called me your friend,” she teases, then laughs when Edwin blushes straight to his ears and coughs.

“ Our friend,” Edwin insists. 

“Semantics,” Crystal says, parroting Edwin’s earlier remark, much to his chagrin. “You’re never getting rid of me now,” she adds, right before hugging him. Edwin hugs her back this time, even if it takes a few moments for him to lift his arms. 

“I really am happy for you,” Crystal admits when they finally pull apart. 

“Thank you,” Edwin replies, giving her one of his few genuine smiles. He looks so happy that Crystal can’t help but grin at him too. 

“You owe me like, five thousand favors for helping you two figure your shit out, though,” Crystal says, then laughs when Edwin gives her a withering look.

“We would've figured it out on our own eventually,” Edwin protests.

“In the 21st century?” Crystal snorts. “Unlikely.”

[master-of-the-game]

seeing you make oil paintings of elim garak has changed something about the way i perceive art, both in what others make but also in what i am capable of making.

it’s probably due to learning mostly euro-centric art history, but i’ve always thought of oil paintings as like the peak of painting ability? like, it’s fancy and it takes a while so i thought that it must be the best (ignoring the fact that my artistic field is mostly in acrylic paints and 3D sculpting and yet i still consider it very good). and i’m still working on disproving this sort of mentality that there are mediums inherently better than others, because it’s incredibly limiting to my creativity to impose a higharchy, and also it feels kind of xenophobic.

i digress a bit. point is, i’ve viewed oil paintings as a medium only deserving of gallery-type realistic portrait stuff, which is very much not what i do. i don’t make the sorts of fancy art rich people would pay for- the type of art i thought oils were for. i make paintings of comic book characters and sculptures of my personal heroes, i make jewelry and clothes and stuffed animals. stuff that i enjoy. which is good!

but still somewhere lurking in my brain was this voice telling me that on some level my works weren’t as meaningful or creative because they were fan works or made from materials i’m not an expert in or because the only people i draw and paint and sculpt are queer and trans, like me. that because my art was self-indulgent, on some level i suppose i thought it lesser.

but then i see your art. and holy shit! you’re work is INCREDIBLE! at first i was excited because, hey, i’m a big star trek fan, and garak is one of my favorite characters. i love coming across fan art of him, and it always manages to strike a chord with me. but then. as i looked at it closer, i realized it was on canvas. as i scrolled down i realize it was oil on canvas.

before, i’d pretty much only seen fanart as sketches on paper or digital drawings. one that is really only meant art-wise for quick sketches or planning of what will become “real” works, and one that doesn’t actually take up any physical space in our world, and is stored away in a little digital file.

but oil on canvas? that’s not meant to be thrown away, it’s meant to be held in gloved hands, as it is precious, and it’s not meant to be hidden away in the “files” on a laptop. no, those hang on the walls of museums or houses, meant to be displayed with pride for all to see.

and with those too colliding thoughts, that of fan works as some lesser form of art but oil paintings being the art of the rich and talented… well i realized that both were wrong. fan works are not in any way shape or form lesser than original works. what makes my layered ink painting of dream of the endless any less important than my painting of the ocean during a storm? nothing! they’re both good works. and on the other side, there is nothing that makes my oil paintings more important than my acrylic paintings or my sculpture or my knitting. it’s all art, lovely art, in the end. and the only thing that really matters is that i enjoy it.

seeing your art has helped me break some (minor) yet harmful thoughts i didn’t really even realize i had. so thank you for that. also your garak art is fucking good, and it really makes me think about what sort of life he would have after ds9. anyways, thank you. that’s what i’ve been meaning to say (that’s what this whole thing is). thanks for changing my vision for the better.

Oh wow! You know, it is very important and gratifying to know that results of your work make person rearrange their thoughts and views on something. Thank you for your sincerity! Now back to subject. I personally believe that fan work can be something fine and vice versa something fine can be a fan work. One thing that is very important to remember and remind yourself is that most of fine art that you've mentioned - gallery and most famous works (at least in european tradition) - are, well, derivative. Of Bible, of ancient myths. Yes. All this stuff can be considered maybe not fanart - but it is a subject for discussion - but illustration at least. And it is still fine art. Book illustrations - oh well. Sometimes I want to hang them on the wall, especially old ones. So - why not? Fan work always has a connotation of something derivative, and it certainly is... But just as well as most of the most prominent works. Dixi :D So that's the matter. Medium of course matters but medium does not always define the subject of art (except for common sense), as you've said. It's just maybe the cost of medium (some watercolor brushes for some reason cost... ehm. Too much :D) that defines its price, but not necessarily. I like thinking about this issue and discussing it... Plenty room for ideas. Thank you!

[gabessquishytum]

I blame this one on watching too many racing movies recently, but Racecar driver Hob and nepo-baby Team sponsor Dream.

Dream somehow (he suspects Desire) becomes the representative of the Endless Corporation for the racing team they sponsor. It is Dream’s idea of hell, large crowds, loud noises, fleeting seconds of action to watch directly, and then being expected to chat with others while watching the tv screens. He doesn’t know what is happening and doesn’t really care, and it shows. Sure, being in the luxury of the owners/sponsors box helps, but still he’d rather be anywhere else.

Dream eventually heads to the team’s garage with the excuse that he wants to listen to the race engineers and driver directly. Everybody in the garage is too busy doing their job to try and chat with him or pay him more attention than is needed to get him a headset and settled out of the way, so it’s perfect for Dream.

Robert “The Immortal” Gadling is the newest addition to the Endless racing team, so named because he has survived more on-track crashes and accidents than any other active driver, most of them weren’t even his fault. He always says the reaper is going to come for him in a car, so he might as well make it an interesting death. The press thinks he is just a thrill seeker chasing fame. In truth, he lost Robyn, Elanor, and the baby from being hit by a drunk driver while he was driving, and it haunts him. He wants to prove that he is the best driver, because if he is the best and he still lost his family in an accident, then no one else would have reacted faster or handled the car better.

Hob isn’t the best yet. He is always in the upper pack but hasn’t consistently broken onto the podium. He’s hoping this new team will be a chance to really show what he can do. Hob always has a running commentary going on the team comms no matter how long or intense the race is. People constantly have to break into his chatter to give him the information he needs about the car, his competition, or track conditions.

Dream is intrigued by this man who constantly jokes around while driving a heavy death machine around at break-neck speeds. They end up talking a few races later when after the race Dream stays long enough for Hob to notice a new face in the garage. Dream finds he enjoys having all that intense focus on him alone. Chats after the race become drinks out, then become dinner together. Soon, they are exploring the cities the races are in together when there is downtime. Eventually, they end up testing the structural integrity of Dream’s hotel’s beds as Hob sets out to prove that he is an athlete in peak shape thank you very much.

Poor Dream who has never had a healthy relationship in his life is insistent that what they have is a friends-with-benefits or fuckbuddy situation even though neither is looking elsewhere, they are always talking to each other and they’ve both shown each other the skeletons in their respective closets. Hob would like to call their relationship more but also knows his constant dance with death or at least serious injury is as good a reason as any for Dream to avoid any kind of commitment to him not counting both their emotional baggage.

Things come to a head when Hob is caught in a multi-car crash and is sent rolling into the center of the track where the car quickly catches fire. Dream pushes himself into the pack of people from the team following the first responders to the crash, hoping that the safety gear the team poured some of the sponsorship money into actually did something. He isn’t allowed on the medical helicopter when Hob is airlifted out, but he does set some speed records of his own getting to the hospital.

The safety equipment does its job and Hob will only have to miss a few races for recovery, but Dream is not letting Hob go one more day without formalizing their relationship because no one else gets Hob, not even Death. Hob’s memory of that first “I love you” is hazed by painkillers, but they exchange the words so many times during his hospital stay that he isn’t too worried about it.

When he is cleared to begin racing again Hob starts consistently placing on the podium and each time he makes sure his boyfriend gets caught in the champagne spray no matter how much Dream grumbles about the cost of cleaning his designer clothes. Years later, when Hob retires from being a driver so he can spend more time with his husband, he is considered the chattiest driver of all time, Dream listened to every single one of his races after all. He also incidentally will be remembered as one of the best drivers of his generation.

-💥

I know close to nothing about racing but omg I am so here for this!!! Driver Hob!!! Chatty, risky, charismatic driver Hob with a tragic backstory!! I love it, once again I can only thank you for honouring me with this mini fic <333

I love to imagine Hob doing press conferences and managing to turn every answer for every question into a rant about how amazing Dream is, he loves Dream so much, he never thought he'd be able to get to the top of his sport but Dream has given him the motivation. And Dream himself is standing at the back of the room desperately wishing that the floor would swallow him up <333

[sorcerous-caress]

thank you thank you thank you for feeding me the halfling content. It warms my cold dead soul and I love it so much. 94 notes too at the current time I’m writing this, and gah, I’m glad some people enjoy the short races like I do.

To add if I may, I know I’m going off into human kink territory, but I feel like in all other races x human, there is a certain tone towards the human partner. High elves thinks they’re fundamentally less intelligent and naive, wood elves like to ‘fix’ them/change them, dwarves’ fantasy is to have a clumsy human assistant, etc.

Which don’t get me wrong, is hot. I’m all here for kinky shit, but I do like the tenderness of halflings. Imagine, a human stumbles upon a halfling grove while injured. They pass out, and awake to a group of halflings fussing. They’re tender and kind. One is hurriedly trying to sew their blankets together to keep you warm, another is tending to the fire, one is bringing you soup, etc.

Maybe you groan and protest you’re fine, trying not to hit your head. But you stumble and a worried halfling is tenderly scolding you. As you recover, you learn more about them. You drink with them, share nights under the stars, watch as they dance, and celebrate festivities together. They live such peaceful lives. Maybe you’re resistant. Maybe you’ve had a bad home life and don’t trust the families that love each other without something to get in return.

And yet, when you start a relationship with a halfling, you get their family too. Their siblings, their nieces and nephews, their cousins, and oh you just have to met their great aunt who lives on the top of the hill.

Maybe you stay with them. Or maybe you have to continue on your journey. When and if you do come back, your halfling lover(s) hand you a stack of love letters they write you. They are worried sick and hold you so tightly you’re strangely impressed.

Gah, I’m rambling but I love the idea of a human, rugged and hardened by the world, fall desperately in love with a halfling. I love a tender human kink and would love to get into the smut sometimes, but like I said, thank you so much for humoring my requests!

I'm really happy you liked it! I remember you from the early days of the human kink posts and immediately recognised you when I saw you in the requests <3

And yes, you get it. Halflings are described as the best friends of humanity for a reason! They represent home, security, and comfort, and god knows humanity is desperately in need a break from this cold warm and go to bed in a warm home.

It goes both ways too, halflings adore all the arts, be it painting, writing, music or anything, and humanity is the biggest ever source of it. Which is why so many halfling settlements get built near human cities, they adore their human neighbours creativity and are eternal greatful for the many manu gifts human has created into this world that they can spend a lifetime of exploring it.

Humans are the excitement and entertainment to them, the fun, art and laughter. I imagine halflings to be one of the few races who happily would listen to a human ramble about their ideas and dreams rather then condcendingly shushing them like the elves or infantilising their simple dreams like the dwarves who live complex lives.

Which is why humans are suspicious when they're met with halflings' hospitality after being met with all the other races, some of them even tried to enslave the humans.

And the halflings really live the dream most humans long for. A community of people who live off the lands and help each other, neigbours that know each other and share their celebrations and happiness. Where everyone contributes what they can and no one is left out.

Sometimes being human is tiring, a constant race where you have to prove your worth. To continously create, shine and preform for everyone around you. And endless dance that's expected of you rather than appreciated.

So the fact the halflings will nurse a wounded human back to full health in exchange for nothing comes as a surprise. The fact they opened their doors to you amidst a rainy storm and let you dry near the fireplace inside before cutting you a piece of their pie.

Even when you're back at full health, they don't ask for much of you. Just helping them with the tasks they can't do. Someone's cat climbed on a high tree and you're taller than them so maybe you can shake this bag of treats near the cat until it comes down? Or help them pick apples from this tree?

Especially your halfling lover, they were so patient with you and your wounded trust. Coming to visit you while you recover everyday and bringing you various things from their walks.

Sometimes a piece of warm bread and a warm cup of milk. Sometimes a stray dandelion with a ladybug they didn't notice that was munching on its leaves.

You ask them why and they say why do they need a reason to? You have a kind soul, they can tell, so it's normal for them to like being around you.

And maybe, if you're in the mood for chatting, maybe just maybe you can talk to them about the things you like? You see humans get this cute spark in their eyes whenever they talk about their passions-ah yes they do find humans quite cute but don't worry, they didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.

Maybe they hint at how beautiful they find humans, how they like the feeling of their hands, how much their different smiles melts the halfling's heart.

They admit you're just as beautiful as they imagined humans to be, there's unusual shyness in their voice as they admit that.