#he kept his promise to Liam

[dreamsuvivor]

Liam and Ridoc have my heart 💔

[eminentzayn]

zayn saved the band by leaving.

let's be honest. he took the hit when he left. he lost so many of his fans then. but you know what he did?

he showed the boys that there was life after one direction.

he showed them that the hell they were enduring was escapable. that they could make it out and still sing and write songs and be happy.

if they'd really been as happy as they seemed to us, they would've come back after the hiatus. they promised us 18 months. its been 9 years.

im sure they loved us with all their hearts. that they enjoyed their time together as a band, as brothers. however, they were exploited and taken advantage of every step of the way.

now, liam's passing is the fucking culmination of the hell they endured. you can't argue with me that the liam of 2011 was SO SO FULL OF LIFE. he had so much promise. you just knew this boy was gonna go places.

but somehow, along the way, his light dimmed. that wasn't the liam we knew. we all subconsiously could see it. that liam hurt so much that he hurt a lot of people. that liam could've done better. that liam should've been given the chance to make amends.

but the young boy that was so full of life, he didnt deserve any of this. he deserved to have been kept safe and away from the shit that could destroy him.

the boys should have been protected and maybe, just maybe, we wouldn't have to endure this devastating loss. maybe, just maybe, liam would still be alive.

i'd take an unending hiatus over this loss any day.

[jungwnies]

f1 gris (2/2) | forgetting their birthday

୨ৎ : featuring : kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda, isack hadjar, and liam lawson + special feature franco colapinto and lance stroll (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @holycastles) : pretending to forget their birthday but actually having a huge surprise for them planned

୨ৎ : genre : romantic comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 2342

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : yall.. 10k followers is sooo fucking insane tysm! i will be doing a 10k special in a few weeks so pls stay tuned... it's finals coming up so i will be a bit busyyy but once its over i will 100% be focused here >.<

ʚ・kimi antonelli

kimi didn’t say much when he realized the day was slipping by without a single mention. he never really made a big deal about birthdays. he didn’t expect balloons or cake or instagram captions. but still, from you, he expected something.

at breakfast, he waited. you served him pancakes and coffee like it was any other wednesday. no candles. no teasing grins. just a kiss on the cheek and a "have a good day, babe."

at lunch, nothing. he thought maybe you were planning something. maybe it was a joke. but as the hours went on, doubt started to creep in. you were scrolling your phone while curled up on the couch, totally at ease. too at ease. his heart sank.

he didn’t say anything. just kind of sat with it. didn’t pout. didn’t throw shade. but you knew him. you saw it in the way he was quieter than usual, more distracted, checking his phone a little too often.

at dinner, you brought out his favorite pasta—your homemade version. still no mention. he stared at his plate for a beat too long before picking up his fork.

"kimi?" you said softly. he looked up. "you okay?"

he shrugged. "yeah. just tired."

you let him take another bite before quietly slipping away. when you returned, the lights went off. and the cake came out. candles. sparklers. a stupid little crown. and you.

"happy birthday, kimi."

his eyes softened immediately. he didn’t smile big—he never did—but his whole face lit up in that subtle, slow-burning way that made your heart twist.

"i knew it," he said, shaking his head, voice barely above a whisper. "you’re evil."

you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face to his chest. "took you long enough to crack."

he held you tighter than usual. "you scared me," he mumbled.

"i’d never forget. not ever."

he didn’t need the cake or the candles. just that promise, and you in his arms, and the warmth he tried so hard not to show.

ʚ・ollie bearman

you started the prank at midnight—intentionally saying “goodnight” without even a hint of “happy birthday.” you heard him scoff in the dark. one point for you.

by morning, he was already suspicious. “so… you didn’t have any weird dreams or anything?” he asked at breakfast, eyeing you over his cereal.

“nope,” you replied, sipping your tea like an oscar-winning actor.

ollie blinked. “not even about, i don’t know, special occasions?”

“like tax season?” you offered.

his spoon clattered into the bowl. “oh my god.”

you kept the act going all day. when he dramatically flopped onto the couch saying, “this day feels important for some reason,” you just hummed and asked if he wanted a snack.

by noon, he was spiraling.

you caught him googling “do geminis need more attention?” and muttering to himself while pacing around the apartment. then, when his phone pinged with a birthday text from a teammate, he gasped so loudly it startled the cat.

“you’re lying,” he said, holding up the screen like evidence in a trial.

“about what?” you blinked innocently.

“my birthday. my birthday. are you seriously telling me lando norris remembered before you?!”

you bit your lip to keep from laughing. “ollie, i think you’re just being dramatic.”

he stared at you like you’d just slapped him with a cake. “i will never recover from this betrayal.”

you let him sulk for a while—faking deep emotional trauma while dramatically playing sad songs from his spotify. but then, when he finally dragged himself to the kitchen for ice cream, he opened the freezer and found a box that said “for my favorite chaos goblin.”

inside? a tiny cake with a candle already lit, and a note that said, you really thought i forgot? babe. please.

he stood frozen, jaw hanging open.

you popped your head around the corner. “happy birthday, drama queen.”

ollie just stared. “i planned a whole guilt trip. i almost cried to charles. you absolute menace.”

you giggled as he tackled you in a bear hug, cake be damned. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you whispered back, “i know.”

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

you started the prank the night before. yuki was curled up on the couch, legs in your lap, chattering about how excited he was for ramen tomorrow and how "the birthday boy deserves extra noodles."

you just smiled, nodded, and said, “wait, is something happening tomorrow?”

the look he gave you was instant and horrified. “what do you mean… is something happening?”

you shrugged. “i just feel like i’m forgetting something.”

yuki blinked. “no. no. you’re messing with me.”

you patted his head. “you’re being so dramatic lately, babe.”

that got you a narrowed stare and a suspicious squint. “you’re acting weird. i’m watching you.”

by morning, he had fully entered petty mode. he stomped around the kitchen in his slippers, deliberately making extra noise. you greeted him with a “good morning” and a kiss on the cheek. no “happy birthday.”

he looked personally offended. “nothing? not even a hint?”

you poured your coffee. “hint about what?”

he gasped. “you really did forget. oh my god.”

then he got very, very quiet.

for the next few hours, he refused to tell you what he wanted for lunch. he kept mumbling “i don’t care” and “whatever, it’s just a normal day.” but when you handed him a sandwich, he held it in both hands like it was the saddest thing he’d ever received.

finally, around 3 p.m., you told him you were going out for a bit. he just nodded, curled up on the couch with a blanket over his head, sulking dramatically.

you came back 30 minutes later with a party hat, a mini cake, and his favorite ramen from that place he always begged you to drive to. you walked in singing softly, “happy birthday to yuki…”

he peeked out from under the blanket like a kid. “i knew it. i knew you wouldn’t actually forget.”

you sat beside him and kissed his cheek. “you’re too cute to forget, yuki.”

he beamed, cheeks pink, and pulled you into his lap. “you scared me. i was one second away from texting your mom and telling on you.”

you laughed against his shoulder. “wouldn’t be the first time.”

he grinned. “still gonna eat this cake like you broke my heart, though.”

you handed him a fork. “as you should, birthday boy.”

ʚ・isack hadjar

you knew isack would be the most dramatic when you pretended to forget his birthday. what you didn’t expect was how fast he would spiral into chaos.

it started when you woke up and didn’t say a word. no “happy birthday,” no breakfast in bed, no suspicious glances. just vibes. isack stared at you in silence like he was waiting for the punchline.

“you good?” you asked as you brushed your teeth.

he crossed his arms. “i just think it’s interesting how some people wake up today and act like it’s just… wednesday.”

you choked on your toothpaste but played it cool. “it is just wednesday.”

he gasped. “oh my god.”

you spent the morning fake-working on your laptop while he paced around muttering in french. at one point, he opened your calendar on your phone while pretending to check the weather.

“nothing’s even marked. no cake emoji. not even a dot.”

you side-eyed him. “babe. what are you talking about?”

he threw himself on the couch. “do i mean nothing to you? after i sent you that meme yesterday? that meant something.”

lunch was him dramatically scrolling through old birthday posts you’d made for your cat and reading them out loud.

“to the best boy in the world, love you forever,” he quoted, glaring. “your cat got more love than me.”

you almost caved.

but then he disappeared into the bedroom for 30 minutes and came back out in full black. black shirt, black jeans, black sunglasses.

“i’m in mourning,” he said. “for the relationship i thought i had.”

you snorted so hard you nearly dropped your phone. finally, you pulled the hidden cake out of the fridge and lit the candle.

“happy birthday, you absolute menace.”

he blinked. “wait. you knew? this whole time?!”

you nodded, grinning.

he pointed at you like he was ready to call the police. “you’re sick.”

but then he saw the cake, and the way you’d written ‘to my favorite boy’ in icing, and his face completely melted.

he gave you a big, exaggerated sigh. “fine. you’re forgiven. but only because this cake smells amazing.”

and then he took the biggest bite without using a fork.

ʚ・liam lawson

liam woke up like it was any other day. no expectations. no fuss. dude was already making coffee and singing off-key in the kitchen before you even got out of bed.

you walked in, kissed his shoulder, and greeted him with a casual, “morning.”

he turned, handed you your mug, then looked mildly amused. “sooo… nothin’ special today, huh?”

you blinked. “what, is it national ‘liam makes great coffee’ day?”

he laughed. “honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”

but as the morning went on, he kept making little comments. you’d walk past and he’d go, “still nothing, huh?” under his breath. or he’d look at his phone and dramatically say, “wow, so many birthday messages… wonder what someone forgot.”

you didn’t flinch. you even made lunch like it was a totally normal tuesday.

but liam? oh, he was plotting.

he started dropping the weirdest hints. said things like, “kinda craving cake. no reason. just… feel like today’s a good day for it.”

or “if i was born today, that’d be wild, right?”

by late afternoon, he full-on dropped his driver’s license on the table and casually went, “you ever look at this photo and think, ‘damn. what a birthday boy’?”

you finally caved around 4 p.m., dragging out a wrapped box and a card that said “to the kiwi who thinks he’s slick.”

he opened it with a smirk. “knew it. you’re a menace.”

you kissed his cheek. “you were so annoying about it.”

he grinned. “you love it. admit it.”

you rolled your eyes. “i do. but next year i’m setting a reminder just so i don’t have to watch you fake-suffer like that again.”

he leaned back, smug. “next year, i’m faking amnesia. your move.”

ʚ・franco colapinto

franco wasn’t expecting fireworks for his birthday. honestly, he never did. but he was expecting you to say something when the day started.

instead, you kissed his cheek like usual, told him good morning, and then asked if he could take out the trash.

he hesitated, eyes flicking toward you. “you sleep okay?”

“mmhmm,” you said, scrolling on your phone. “you?”

he nodded slowly. “yeah… weird dreams, though. something about, like… cake.”

you bit back a grin. “maybe you’re just craving sugar.”

the rest of the morning went like that. franco dropping soft, hopeful hints. you pretending not to notice. he wasn’t pouty, not like ollie or isack. but you could tell—he was waiting. watching you with that quiet, slightly anxious energy.

at lunch, he made you coffee and served it with a shy smile. “anything you want today?”

you shook your head. “nothing special.”

he paused. “you sure?”

“mhm.”

and that’s when he got real quiet. not in a dramatic way—just a little dimmer. still smiled. still held your hand when you went out for groceries. but his fingers played with the hem of your sleeve the entire walk, like he was grounding himself.

when you got home, you “accidentally” left your phone unlocked with a birthday alarm still set. he saw it. paused. smiled—that soft franco smile—and said nothing.

but a few minutes later, when you asked him to grab something from the oven, he opened it and found a birthday cake with his name on it.

you walked into the kitchen behind him, holding a small box with your gift and whispered, “you didn’t think i’d forget, right?”

he turned to you, eyes a little watery, smile so soft it could melt anything. “i didn’t. not really. but i would’ve loved you even if you did.”

you kissed him, and he kissed you back like he’d been waiting all day for that exact moment.

ʚ・lance stroll

lance doesn’t love attention. but birthdays? they kind of mean something to him, especially when it’s you.

so when you woke up, kissed his cheek, and didn’t say anything, he raised a brow but kept cool. “no dreams about cake or parties?”

“nope,” you said, already walking away.

he blinked. “okay.”

the morning passed in silence. well, not silence. you were humming while making breakfast. but lance? lance was watching you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

no texts read over your shoulder. no cake being secretly frosted. no sneaky glances. just… vibes.

at lunch, he cleared his throat. “so… i was born today.”

you blinked. “really? what a coincidence.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you’re unreal.”

he didn’t push. just teased you under his breath. at one point, he dramatically stared out the window like he was in a sad music video and mumbled, “must be crazy to have a girlfriend who forgets your birthday.”

you cracked at dinner. brought out his favorite dessert—warm, homemade, gooey—and placed a single candle in the center.

he smirked. “oh, so you do love me.”

you handed him a tiny box. “takes more than one prank to scare me off.”

he opened the gift slowly, brows rising as he saw the watch you’d been saving up for. underneath the box was a handwritten note.

for the guy who plays it cool but has the softest heart i’ve ever known.

he looked at you, quiet for a second. then he pulled you into his lap and kissed your cheek. “you’re lucky i’m too in love to be mad.”

you smiled. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

he nuzzled into your neck and whispered, “next year, i’m getting revenge.”

but he said it with the biggest grin.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[forgetriestowrite]

okokok before i go to bed i just. i just need to talk about Dorym. I need to yap about them once more.

i know for literal MONTHS i have been saying "i need Dorym to kiss" etc etc and if you follow me i am so sorry that my obsession over two fictional gay men infiltrated your feed so violently, BUT

after that absolute masterclass in acting by Robbie and Liam I have decided that I actually don't need them to kiss. That's not what they are. At least not yet.

They are both so afraid of being soft and vulnerable. Dorian literally said it in his confession. He's not used to being open with anyone. Orym has spent the last several episodes, if not the whole campaign, keeping himself at arm's length from all of his friends. He kept himself away from Dorian, specifically, because he was scared. Even when Will told him it's okay to love someone else, he was still terrified.

So their love doesn't need to be confirmed to the world in some big gesture, Fjord's "can I kiss you" or Vax's promise to stay by Keyleth's side, even in death or Vex's "my heart belongs to someone else". That stuff doesn't matter to Dorian and Orym. What matters is being able to comfort the person you love, the person who is always refusing help because he doesn't believe he's important enough for it. It's being able to feel safe enough with someone to just sleep. To think "this is okay" because it is. To watch out for each other and be there for each other and call each other even when the lines are down and have that be enough.

I feel like they've been loving each other for a really long time, it just took until now for them to say it.

[onlyangel4]

life of pain. LL30. final part. smau + written.

liam lawson x chronically ill reader

reader has dealt with pain for as long as she can remember but what she did not respect was for her pain to be the reason she met her soulmate.

author's note: i shall be writing this from experience so reader suffers from elher's danlos syndrome, chronic pain syndrome and chronic fatigue syndrome. but if you have a different chronic illness please do imagine it as that

faceclaim: kristine froseth

part one

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

sleeping most of the day helped you greatly, you were able to get all that rest that you truly desired and your joints ached a lot less when you woke up from your second nap of the day. you flicked your phone all and checked the time. shit, liam was going to be at your hotel within an hour.

you reluctantly peeled the bedsheets back and climbed out of the warm abyss and began digging through your suitcase but nothing seemed good enough. you were about to have a racing driver in your room, you needed to look good, but you had never been really good at this shit. so you quickly grabbed your phone a face timed your best friend.

to say that she was shocked to find out you were going to be hanging out with one of the drivers was a little bit of an understatement "holy fucking shit y/n, how do you always get yourself in these situations", you just laughed her off and you guys go to work on picking an outfit that screamed casual, i did not try too hard while also not looking lazy. and once you had finally done that and promised your best friend she was going to get the full run down on your time with liam you hung up and began cleaning the room ready for him to come over.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: today's fit

once your hotel room was finally to your liking you took a moment to breathe. it was difficult to wrap your head around what was about to happen. in mere moments a f1 driver was going to be in your hotel room to just hang.

growing up you watched f1 every race weekend with your father, it was one of the main things that you were able to bond on. you would set up the tv in your hospital room after surgeries just so you could watch it together but as you got older and moved out of your family home. you kind of just stopped watching. yes you kept up with the teams just so you could talk to your father about it on your weekly phone calls but you were no longer the little super fan that you had been.

being able to surprise your father with paddock tickets was a way for you to force yourself back into the world of formula one, you knew that after seeing a race in person you would be hooked for good, who knew that you were also going to get to spend some personal time with one of the drivers.

you had been so caught up in your thoughts that you had not heard the first knock at the door, but the second one pulled you from your whirlwind of thoughts, "coming", you called out taking one last look in the mirror before going to the door, a smile plastered on your lips.

as the door opened you were met with liam standing there, he had two bags in his arms and he returned your smile. "hey y/n", he spoke as he walked inside.

"so i brought you a burger and some fries, i hope you like it", he spoke and you smiled at his thoughtfulness

"you already know me too well mister lawson", you teased playfully as he handed you the bag of food.

liam explained that he was on his race weekend meal plan so he was unable to partake in the fast food and instead pulled out a carefully curated meal that had been made for him. you both took a seat on the floor of your hotel room and just ate and spoke. it was really nice, liam was refreshing. yes he talked about racing and his life but he was more interested in wanting to get to know about you and what your life was like. as you spoke about your family and friends, you caught liam looking at you like you were the only person in the world. it was enough to make your heart jump in your chest and cause you to stumble over a few of your words but you powered on.

it unsurprising that you and liam both caught up in each other's company it was only when liam's watch buzzed to alert him that he had a meeting in fifteen minutes that you realised you had been sat yapping for over an hour.

"you have no idea how much i want to skip this meeting right now, but i think i'll lose my seat", liam spoke making you laugh as you stood up to walk to the door.

"it was lovely talking to you y/n, i'm glad you are feeling a bit better. i for one am really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.", he spoke softly, "and maybe carry on seeing you after the race", he spoke carefully as if he was testing the water between you.

your cheeks flushed softly at the thought of continuing seeing him after this whirlwind of a weekend, "I would like that liam", you spoke softly.

that was when liam reached down and took the unbranded baseball cap off your head putting it on the ground, he removed the rb hat from his head and gently placed it on your head, "much better", he whispered lowly before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. one that you quickly reciprocated. it was gentle and loving as if you had forever.

"goodnight liam", you whispered softly when he pulled away.

"goodnight darling", he spoke before making his way down the hall leaving you to shut the door behind him smiling like the cheshire cat.

y/ninsta posted a story tagging liamlawson

written: someone hustled us garage tickets

y/ninsta posted a story

written: all celebrations in the rb garage DOUBLE POINTS BABY!!

liamlawson

liked by y/ninsta, oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 638,283 others

liamlawson: finally relaxing after a whirlwind of a season

view all 23,485 comments

user1: A SOFT LAUNCH

alexalbon: does the baby finally have a girlfriend

liamlawson: finally

user2: really was not expecting a soft launch from liam, he has not be pictured with any girls at all

oscarpiastri: idc about you, what is the dog called

liamlawson: glad you have your priorities straight mate that is marshmallow

y/ninsta

liked by liamlawson, y/bff, user3 and 643 others

y/ninsta: life lately

view all 23 comments

y/bff: a man???!!1

y/ninsta: babe you have met my man let's not act surprised

friend1: pretty girlll

liamlawson: the prettiest

user3: i was stalking to try and find liam's new girlfriend and i swear i saw him comment here

y/ninsta: who is liam, i don't know anyone called liam

liamlawson posted a story

written: as someone who loves somebody that has a chronic illness i wanted to highlight chronic illness visibility day. people living with these conditions are warriors and we as a society need to treat them as such, please just be empathetic to the strong people in your life that suffer every single day.

liamlawson

liked by y/ninsta, lilymhe, alexalbon and 728,371 others

tagged: y/ninsta

liamlawson: obsessed with you

view all 34,283 comments

y/ninsta: i am so in love with you

liamlawson: i love you more pretty girl

user4: not liam hard launching on a random wednesday

user5: i just stalked her and she has the same medical condition as me, i feel so seen

user6: she seems so down to earth and normal, i love her already

alexalbon: so does this mean i can meet marshmallow this season

liamlawson: yes, yes it does

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[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - (3) Sips with Stardom

Jenn Ortega x Reader

Summary: Y/N's morning is stirred when Jenna arrives before opening hours. She finds herself sipping coffee and sharing stories with the star again. Between bodyguards, family, and an unexpected promise, Y/N's day becomes more than just her regular routine—a start to a little more, one sip at a time.

Word Count: 2.9k

As I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar smell of Chinese takeout filled the air. The sounds of laughter and clatter of utensils echoed from the kitchen. Kicking off my shoes and slipping into my slippers, I sighed in relief. Home. Before I could take another step, Mr. Noodles—my black-and-white tuxedo cat, complete with his signature black bowtie—greeted me by weaving between my legs, purring loudly. "Hey, Noodles," I chuckled, bending down to scratch his chin. He meowed once, flicking his tail, and followed me into the kitchen. Marcus and Caleb sat at the table, surrounded by various takeout containers. Marcus dug into his lo mein while Caleb balanced his fork in one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other. "Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!" Marcus called out, waving his fork in the air dramatically. "Yeah, too high on your horse to join your big brothers for dinner? Caleb chimed in without even glancing up from his phone. I rolled my eyes and dropped my bag onto the floor, giving Mr. Noodles a final pat before sitting down at the table. "Whatever you say, peasants, you wouldn't believe the day I had." Marcus raised an eyebrow, grinning. "What happened? Did Tom Cruise stop by to argue with his reflection again?" Caleb snicker. "Or did Chris Hemsworth come in to try and order his post-workout protein shake?" 'Ok. So maybe I don't only keep celebrity conversations with just Wilma.' "No, I still don't know what kind of gym rat demands a coffee shop to make a protein shake," I said, grabbing some fried rice. "But actually, it was Meryl Streep. She and her manager walked in, supposedly for a meeting. And they broke into a feud over whether or not she should be having hot chocolate and a donut." Both of them looked at each other, chuckling. Marcus leaned back in his chair to scratch Mr. Noodles under him. "Meryl Streep, defending her sugar right? You go, girl!" I grinned, stuffing a dumpling in my mouth. "Yeah, his face when she chewed him out was priceless." Caleb's full attention is on me now. "What about Will Ferrell? Did he drop by and give any hints about his upcoming movie?" I shook my head. "No Will Ferrell today. But Liam Neeson came in, ordered tea and a jelly donut, and then tripped on his way out. Spilled tea all over the place." Marcus and Caleb both froze mid-bite before bursting into laughter. Marcus set his fork down, "Let me guess, he threatened the floor after that one, right?" Caleb swallowed his food, "I can just imagine him giving his famous death stare. What did you do?" "I gave him another one, free of charge," I shrugged. "The man looked so heartbroken. I couldn't let him walk out like that." They laughed again, shaking their heads in disbelief. Marcus wiped his mouth, "Man, only in your line of work do we find out Meryl Streep and Liam Neeson are out here having bad days like the rest of us."

We kept eating, trading stories about our day. Marcus talked about a guy at the gym who almost dropped a barbell trying to impress some girl. At the same time, Caleb vented about the latest office drama. While leaning over to offer the piece of chicken on my fork to Mr.Noodles, without even thinking, I casually mentioned, "Oh yeah, Jenna Ortega came in today." Marcus froze, his fork nearly dropping, while Caleb slowly lowered his phone. Both of them stared at me in studded silence. "Wait...what?" Caleb asked, voice rising. "The Jenna Ortega?" It took me a second to realize what I had just said, and I immediately felt my face heat up. Damn. "Uhh...yeah. She was just, you know, having coffee." Marcus leaned over the table, grin growing wider. "Are you seriously telling me you met Jenna Ortega and didn't freak out? Come on, you've been obsessed since she made it big on Wednesday." "I wasn't obsessed!" I protested, feeling my cheeks grow even hotter. "And it wasn't a big deal. She's just a regular person." Caleb raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Did you...like talk to her?" I groaned, running a hand through my hair and throwing my head back. "Yeah, we talked a little. She was reading a book I loved, so we ended up geeking out about the author. She already read it, too, just revisiting it." Marcus' grin grew, looking smug. "You geeked out about a book...with her? And you're sitting here acting like it's no big deal?" I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "She's just another customer like anyone else, guys," Caleb smirked. "Uh-huh, sure. Except you're blushing right now." I could feel the heat creeping back into my face. "Am not." Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "Our lil sis rubbing elbows with big stars. Be careful if she wants to meet us, we're totally gonna embarrass you." I groaned, covering my face. "Shut Up, Please!"

After dinner, I headed upstairs. Changing into a pair of comfy sweats and a loose T-shirt. Noodles, ever my loyal shadow, hopped onto the bed and curled into a little ball beside me as soon as I laid down. He purred, vibrating through the blankets. I grabbed my phone and, doomed scrolled through Instagram and TikTok. But no matter what I did, my mind drifted back to Jenna. The way she was there—from anxious to completely calm in the café. It was hard to match that with the version of her I'd seen on the screen. And the fact that we actually talked? That was still sinking in. Then there was the blush. That small, subtle blush when she realized she was the last one left in the café caught me off guard. Jenna Ortega, the same Jenna who played the confident, intense character on screen, blushing because she'd lost track of time in a quiet little coffee shop? It made her seem so much more...cute. I immediately slapped my face. 'No, no, not what I meant. I meant human.'" When I looked over, Noodles' eyes were wide, and his tail flickering. I must have startled him with that slap. After a moment of us watching each other, Clearly unimpressed, he huffed and circled a few times, kneading the blankets before settling back down. "Sorry Noodles...What do you think? I murmured, my fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes behind his ears. "Do you think I made a fool of myself?" He responded with a soft purr, utterly unbothered by my internal crisis. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand, my mind replaying every detail of the evening: the way Jenna smiled when I brought her the donut, her casual posture as we talked about horror novels, and, of course, the way she blushed. It was as if, for a moment, she wasn't Jenna Ortega, the actress. She was just...Jenna. A regular person who got lost in a book, just like me. I sighed, rolled onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. "I'll probably never see her again, right?" I muttered to myself. Noodles meowed softly in response, unbothered by my troubles. But a small part of me couldn't help but hope that maybe she'd come back. Noodles stretched, yawned, and moved closer, curling up beside me. I smiled at his contentment, but my mind was still swirling with thoughts. I couldn't help but wonder if this was it or if I'd get the chance to talk to her again. Maybe she'd come back. With her lingering in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep, contemplating the unexpected conversation that had turned my usual day at work into something unforgettable.

The next morning came far too quickly. My alarm blared, and I groaned, rolling over to smack the snooze button. Mr Noodles, the early riser, pounced on my chest and meowed directly in my face until I finally gave in. "Alright, I'm up," I muttered, pushing him off and dragging myself out of bed. After a quick shower, I threw on some clothes and grabbed my bag, ready to head back to The Daily Grind. As I patted Mr. Noodle's head one more time before slipping out the door. I headed out the door, keys in hand, and my phone buzzed as I locked up. I answered. "Hey, Y/N! You're going to have to open up today," she said, practically out of breath like she was jogging. "The twins are dragging their feet and won't put their shoes on! She yelled that last part as I pulled out of my parking spot. "Mama couldn't take them, so I got stuck on babysitter duty again. I'll be in later." I chuckled, imagining the chaos on her end. "No worries, Captain, I can hold down the fort until you come." "Thanks! Oh, and by the way..." Wilma's tone shifted to something more playful. "How did things go with Primera last night?" I paused for a moment, feeling my face heat up. Of course, Wilma was going to ask. I couldn't avoid it, but...did I really have to tell her everything? I could already picture the girl tackling me if she had to find out on her own fruition. "Y/N? You still there?" Wilma prompted, clearly sensing my hesitation. I sighed, knowing there was no way out. "It was fine. We just talked a bit more," I started, trying to keep my voice casual. "Mhm, sure," Wilma replied, egging me on. "And?" I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth creep up my neck. "Jenna...actually walked me to my car," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "And then she teased me, said I had somehow 'charmed' her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She flashed that smile—half playful, half serious—like she knew she was messing with me. Honestly, it was impossible not to blush." "Wait, hold up, She walked you to your car?" Wilma interrupted, her voice dripping with amusement. I could practically see her grinning on the other side of the phone. "And what smile? You've already memorized her smile, huh?" I groaned, blushing. "It wasn't like that, Wilma. She was just being...friendly." Wilma laughed. "Friendly? Please. You're a natural-born flirt, and you don't even realize it. And with "that" smile? She was totally into i—" "I wasn't flirting!" I protested; the thought of Jenna's smirk made me doubt my words. "She was just messing with me." "Oh sure, because it's so easy to charm someone with those smooth barista skills," Wilma teased. "You better brace yourself when she comes back. You're in trouble, Y/N." "Yeah," I admitted, resting my head on the steering wheel. "And then her bodyguards showed up out of nowhere and scared the life out of me." Wilma's laughter echoed through the phone. "Bodyguards? Of course. This keeps getting better by the second! What else? I know there's more." I sighed, already resigned to the teasing. "She made me promise that the next time she comes by, I'd share some of the stories about some bodyguards at the café." There was a beat of silence, and then, as expected, her laughter doubled. "Y/N, you've got her hooked! Wild café stories? She's definitely coming back now. Congrats—you've got yourself a celebrity lover. You're basically famous." "Wilma, seriously," I groaned. "Please don't blow this out of proportion." "Oh, honey, it's already out of proportion," her voice full of playful mischief. "You've charmed Jenna Ortega, and now she's coming back for more. I can already see it—this is how it all starts." I rolled my eyes, fully aware of how this conversation would go. "You're impossible." Wilma snickered. "Well, look at you—handling business like a pro. Don't let the fame go to your head, mascot. Remember to stay humble when you're hanging out with Hollywood Royalty." "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, though I couldn't suppress the small laugh. "I'll try not to let it change me."

"Alright, gotta get these monsters buckled and shipped off to school. Don't have too much fun without me!" "Sure, I'll try not to, and hopefully, I'll survive the first horde," I said, grinning as I hung up the phone. As I pocketed my phone, I shook my head, a smile lingering on my lips. I was starting to get used to the teasing. I grabbed my bag and headed inside. The sun crept up, casting soft light through the windows as I unlocked the door. Stepping inside, I could still feel the leftover warmth from yesterday. The café was quiet and still, just how I liked it before the rush. I went to the back, checked in, and threw my stuff into my locker before heading to the employee area. I slipped into my all-black barista uniform—simple black pants and a fitted black shirt before getting my apron from the hook by the door. The apron was the only pop of color, a warm brown that stood out against the dark. As I tied it around my waist, I fell into work mode. First things first: the plants. I grabbed the watering can we kept under the counter, filled it up halfway, and made my way around, giving each hanging plant a good drink. The soft trickle of water and the rustle of leaves was strangely calming, making the café feel like it was waking up, too. I always made sure to take extra care of the plants; Wilma was obsessed with them. Her grandmother had a green thumb, and she followed suit. So she'd notice if even one leaf looked droopy. Next up, I headed to the kitchen to bake the day's pastries. The scent of flour and sugar greeted me as I pulled out the ingredients. I started with the croissants, carefully rolling the dough before placing them on the baking tray.

While they baked, I started on the rest of today's menu items. If a customer wanted anything else, we'd bake it fresh for them. Next, the muffins were mixed with batter and folded in fresh blueberries. The lemon scones were last—I zested the lemons, mixed the dough, and shaped them perfectly before sliding them into the oven. As they finished in the oven, the warm, sweet smells began to fill the café, and I could already imagine the regulars lining up for their favorites. Once they were done, I arranged the croissants, muffins, and scones, which were still hot, and I knew they'd be the first to go as soon as we opened the doors. I also double-checked the coffee machines, making sure they were clean and ready to brew all day long. Once the plants were watered and pastries set, I headed to the front window to hang up a new poster advertising an upcoming poetry night we were hosting. Wilma printed and designed it with bold artistic letters and a little sketch of a coffee cup next to it. I used a bit of tape to secure the edges, securing it to the front window and centered for everyone to see. As I finished up, I wiped down the tables and chairs, making sure everything was spotless. The last thing I needed was someone complaining about a sticky spot on a table or chair. I rearranged the cushions, giving the booths that extra welcoming touch. Everything was in place by the time I was done, and The Daily Grind was ready to go. The café had this lived-in feel that always made me smile. It was the kind of space that felt like a warm hug—for anyone who needed it. I poured the fresh streaming brew into a mug, fixing it up just how I liked it, feeling the warmth spreading through my hands. As I leaned against the counter, taking that first comforting sip, a familiar figure appeared outside, her bodyguards in tow. I wasn't even officially open yet, but when Jenna Ortega knocks, who am I to not answer? I walked over to unlock the door, letting her and the guards in. Jenna wasn't in her usual hoodie this time. Today, she wore a stylish see-through white tee paired with a pair of plaid pants with high heels. Looking casual but chic. "You look nice," I said, feeling the comment slip out naturally. Jenna smiled warmly. "Thanks. She added, "I have an early interview for an upcoming film...and then some other boring meetings," her tone was slightly sarcastic. I gave her a teasing look. "Boring? Sounds like you've got a rough life," I joked, rolling my eyes playfully. Jenna chuckles lightly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Yeah, it's tough being me," she shot back. I shrugged, "Well, technically, we're not open yet, but I've already got everything set up, so if you want, I can get you and your crew settled in." Jenna exchanged a quick look with her bodyguards, who nodded back at her. "Thanks, that would be great." I turned to the guards, who had positioned themselves quietly near the entrance. "So, what can I get you guys?" The taller two, who had a more serious demeanor, spoke first. "I'll take a hot coffee. Black, with two pumps of vanilla and a dash of cinnamon." The second guard, who seemed more talkative, said with a small smile, "Tea, please. With milk and one sugar. I'm more of a tea guy myself." I nodded and then looked back at Jenna, expecting her to give her order, but I beat her. "Iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream, right?" Jenna raised an eyebrow, "Not bad. I guess I'm predictable." Jenna leaned her back on the counter as I got to work preparing the drinks, glancing toward the front. "What's that about?" she asked, pointing to the poster I hung earlier. "Oh, that? We run an event for people to come to enjoy poetry or music with their coffee. It's pretty laid-back. Kind of a 'grab the mic if you feel like it' vibe." Jenna nodded, looking at it. "Noted," was all she said softly. "Here's your drinks," I called. Each drink lined up. I handed the bodyguards their drinks, and they settled into the bar area by the cash register while Jenna and I sat at one of the tables, far enough away to talk privately.

"Sorry to inconvenience you again." Jenna replied, smiling briefly before glancing out the window, her fingers tracing the rim of her drink, a little distracted. "You look like you're lost," I teased. "Something on your mind?" Jenna blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and giving me a small smile." Just thinking about the day ahead. Meetings, interviews...nothing too exciting." She glanced at me, smile falling slightly. "But I guess everyone has their own version of busy, right?" I nodded. "Yeah, but at least your 'busy' involves making movies. Not a bad gig." Jenna chuckled softly, "True, but you'd be surprised how much of it is just waiting around, talking about things you've already said a thousand times. It's not all glamorous." I tilted my head slightly, "I can imagine. It's like running a coffee shop. People think it's just pouring drinks and chatting with customers, but there is a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff no one sees." She looked up around me, a spark of intrigue in her eyes. "Yeah? Like what?" I shrugged. "You know, making sure machines are maintained, cleaned, and functional, keeping the inventory stocked, baking pastries fresh every day, And don't even get me started with dealing with the occasional difficult customer, celebrity or not." She laughed, her smile returning tenfold. "I guess we both deal with our fair share of drama, huh?" I grinned, nodding. "Exactly. but hey, at least you get to wear cool outfits. All I get is this apron." She glanced at my apron. "Well...it suits you. And besides, I'm sure you could pull off one or two if you tried." My blush crept up, but I sipped from my cup to cover it. Jenna gave me a playful smile, taking a sip of her own. "So," Jenna began, "Where's Wilma this morning? I feel like I'm missing the other half of this Daily Grind dynamic duo." "She had to drop off her siblings at school," I explained, getting comfortable. "We've been best friends since preschool. Never really been apart, even traveled across the country to open this place together." Jenna's curiosity grew. "That's amazing. No wonder you guys make a great team; you're like a hive mind." I nodded, laughing at the thought. "As terrifying as that is, we do make a great team. Wilma's practically family. We've seen each other through school and jobs. It's been an adventure." Jenna's gaze softened as she asked, "And your real family? Are they around?" I shifted slightly, setting my drink down. "My older brothers, Marcus and Caleb, live here in California with me. We share an apartment together. But the rest of my family, my parents and younger sister, are back in New York." Her eyes lit up. "Wait, you've got a younger sister too? Same here—she can be such a pain, always finding ways to bug me, but that's little sisters for, right?" Jenna chuckled softly, a mix of affection and exaggeration in her voice. "She keeps me on my toes." I chuckled, adding, "Tell me about it. Sometimes, it's a lot of deciding whether to ship her off or not, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. And then, of course, there's Mr. Noodles." Jenna's brow furrowed in confusion, gnawing at her straw. "Mr. Noodles?" I smiled, nodding. My tuxedo cat. He's the real boss of the house." Jenna gasped loudly, startling her guards. "I need to see pictures. Now." I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the dozens of photos I had of Mr. Noodles, and handed it over. Jenna's face lit up with a huge smile as she swiped through the photos. "He's adorable! Look at this gentleman; his tie is too cute! How can you ever leave him to go to work?" I shrugged, shaking my head. "It's tough, but he's got work too. He's a professional napper around the clock, so he manages without me." Jenna handed the phone back, shaking her head in return. But my brain froze; her fingers brushed against mine for a brief moment. It quite literally—shocked me. "Thanks," she said, her hand lingering just a second longer than I expected before she pulled away. "No problem," I replied, trying to calm my racing heart.

"I think I might be in love with Mr. Noodles more than anything else." she joked. I laughed as the door swung open, and Wilma burst in, a disheveled mess, panting like she had just run a marathon. "Sorry, sorry! I swear, herding those beasts into the car is like trying to wrangle lions." Jenna, her guards, and I all turned to look at Wilma, who attempted to play it cool, straightening up as she wiped her brow. "Don't mind me. I'll be in the back getting ready." But before disappearing, she shot me a cheeky smile and said, "Keep charming, mascot." I quickly drank from my empty mug, hoping the ground of the mug would swallow me whole. Jenna raised an eyebrow, "Mascot?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement. I rubbed the back of my neck, "Yeah, it's just Wilma's nickname. She has called me since we opened the café, and she says I'm the face of the place." Jenna let out a laugh, "That's cute. It suits you," she teased, her smile growing. She added, "So, do I call you Mascot now, or is that just reserved by Wilma?" I chuckled, shaking my head. "More like trademarked; she's big on original nicknames but doesn't mind if they stick." "Alright, then, I'll have to go to the drawing board." She chuckled. Jenna's guards glanced at each other, then at the phone in front of them, before standing up. "Ma'am, we've got to head out. Your manager's been calling non-stop," one of them said, holding up Jenna's phone. It read 25 missed calls and 12 growing messages. She sighed, clearly not ready to leave, but she nodded. "Alright, guess I've got to go face the music." She stood up, and I offered to top off her coffee. "You've got a busy schedule. Want a refill to help get through it?" Jenna smiled gratefully. "That would be great, thanks." I quickly refilled her cup, handing it back to her as she pulled out some cash. I frowned, confused. "You don't have to—" She cut me off with a smirk. "I never paid for my drink the other day, and I'm covering today, too. Keep the change as a tip for the drink and for treating me like an actual person." She handed me the cash, along with a piece of paper. As Jenna and her guards left the café, the door softly closed behind them. I stare down at the money. Suddenly, I felt a pinch on my arm. "Ow!" I yelped, spinning around to see Wilma scolding me. "That was to snap you out of it. Also, for not charging your celebrity crush like a regular customer," she teased, hands on her hips. I shot her a look. "I was! I was just caught up in conversation. And besides, Jenna's a good tipper." Looking back at it, I realized the paper wasn't just her receipt—it had her Instagram handle scribbled at the bottom, along with a note that read, 'Thanks for the coffee and conversations again, Slick. You still owe me some more café stories.' I stood there, dumbfounded, as Wilma yelled back, "Come on, mascot, it's opening time before I take your tip!" Snapping back to reality, I shook my head and pocketed the receipt and money. "Alright, alright, I was just counting!"

[reccyls]

Victor's Main Route: Chapter 17

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It was the day after my declaration of war.

Victor: Um… Kate…?

I was tailing Victor.

Kate: Good morning, Victor.

Victor: Good morning… And that notebook is…?

His gaze landed on the notebook I was carrying with me.

Kate: I told you that until my time at Crown is up, I need to learn about you. Kate: In order to make that happen, I’ve decided on this.

I had filled every bit of blank space in the pages with records of every trivial moment of my life with Victor. But I made sure not to write down his name anywhere, or describe what he looked like. It would be difficult for anyone who didn’t spend as much time with Victor that I did to identify him from what I’ve written. After spending some time wondering how I would know Victor, I decided to go back to the beginning.

(To learn about Victor in my capacity as Fairytale Keeper, I began assisting him with his work.)

I had gotten to know him as a person, how he thought, and his secrets. But it wasn’t enough to write a report yet.

(So that’s why I have to be closer to him than anyone else.)

No matter how many records I scoured, the only name I could find was that of Queen Victoria. There was no trace of “Victor”, the man that I loved. So until the promised day came, I would watch him and learn all I could about him from his side, and leave what records of him that I could. And that’s why I was following Victor around everywhere with a notebook in hand.

…

Liam: Good morning, Victor, Kate… Um…?

William: Looks like another interesting development has occurred.

Elbert: …

Harrison: …Did you suddenly take up stalking as a hobby?

As we entered the dining hall, the members of Crown who had already gathered for breakfast simultaneously turned to look our way. Liam looked confused, while Elbert simply stared silently. William was laughing, and Harrison settled on looking dubious.

Kate: No, this is for work!

Paying no mind to how confused Victor seemed, I sat down next to him.

Liam: …I’ve never seen Victor look like that before.

William simply smiled as he overheard Liam’s furtive whispers. I had expected Victor to be at a loss.

(If he’d still tried to push me away even after all that, I would probably have given up. But…)

It seems that making it a matter of my life or death worked, and his behavior had changed.

Victor: You’re going to write about this too?

Kate: Of course.

He used a knife to cut the top off a soft-boiled egg on an egg stand and sprinkled in a bit of salt. He added clotted cream heavily to his scones, while leaving the jam on the side of the plate. As I diligently recorded Victor’s eating habits from my seat next to him, I also reached for some food. He was hopelessly confused, but I was entirely serious.

William: What a diligent observer you are, robin.

…

Victor: …

I kept my eyes on Victor as I assisted him with his work. His quill flowed gracefully across the paper as he worked. Sometimes, he’d pause to tuck his hair behind his ear while thinking hard about something. Warm sunlight poured into the office, silent except for the sound of turning pages and scratching quills. The sight of him was like something out of a painting.

Victor: …Kate.

Kate: What is it?

As I continued to watch him, he smiled wryly and his gaze darted away.

Victor: It’s a little hard to concentrate when you’re staring so intently…

I covered my mouth in embarrassment and immediately looked away.

Kate: Sorry, that was too much.

Victor: I don’t dislike it. It’s just rather embarrassing.

When I snuck a glance back towards him, I noticed a slight blush on his cheeks. Somehow I started feeling embarrassed too, and ducked my head.

(I know I started watching him to learn more about him.) (But the reason I can’t stop is because I’m in love with him.)

His large hands, elegant fingers, the way his black hair flows around his handsome features, his jewel-like eyes. And even the mole on his lip too. I couldn’t help but fall for him. His scent, like that of a silent night, became something that made me feel safe.

(But since I can’t write any of this down, I’ll just have to remember every bit.)

I turned back towards my notebook and began writing again. When I heard the sound of a throat clearing, I looked up.

Victor: You really don’t have any intention of staying away from me?

Kate: None at all.

Victor: Alright. Then, could you assist with the parade?

(That’s the event tomorrow where the queen will be going around the city.)

It was a very large event, with all of Crown acting as security. I hadn’t been told anything specific about what I should do tomorrow, and was told to just stay with William. Victor stood and took some papers and a map.

Victor: From now on, I’ll pretty much be running around the palace to prepare for tomorrow. Victor: People there likely wouldn’t take too well to your presence there, since they’ll think you’re not involved at all.

He looked very serious, and I drew in a sharp breath. He unfolded the map.

Victor: But if I say that you’ll be assisting me by acting as a messenger in case anything happens during the parade, then there won’t be a problem.

There were notes on the map, and when I squinted, I could make out the writing and realized they were guard rotations. And the stack of papers he was holding contained guest lists along with the approximate time they would be arriving.

Victor: So if you want to stay by my side tomorrow, you’ll need to memorize everything here. Victor: Use it to create a schedule for the rest of Crown to follow tomorrow. Victor: Do you think you can do it?

I’ll do it! (+2/+4)

Of course!

Just who do you think I am?

Kate: I’ll do it!

My hands curled into fists, showcasing my determination.

Victor: How dependable.

As I eagerly took the papers and map from Victor, he stood.

Victor: The final security review will be done in half an hour, and after that I’ll need to confirm the queen’s attire. Victor: After that, I’ll brief the council members, and in the evening I’ll be welcoming the first of the arriving guests. Victor: If you tag along, you’re not going to get a moment of rest. Still coming?

His mischievous grin was full of amusement. It had been so long since I’d seen Victor like this. My heart full of happiness, I vigorously nodded.

Kate: Of course I am!

-----

Guard Captain: We’ve been waiting for you, sir.

Victor: Reconfirm the assignments for tomorrow, Kate.

I hastily unfolded the map and scanned the guards’ positions. 

Kate: R-right. The First Division will guard Her Majesty’s carriage. Kate: The Second Division will…

…

Royal Family’s Exclusive Designer: What do you think about lining Her Majesty’s veil with gemstones? I have some beautiful large ones to use.

Victor: She isn’t very fond of such ostentatious styles. In the older outfit, it was… Kate?

I shuffled through the papers I was holding, searching for the one with the design in question.

Kate: If gemstones were to be attached, only use small ones, it says. Kate: And as for the colors–

…

Council Head: About tomorrow…

Victor: You mean the guest list for the post-parade banquet? Kate.

I instantly pulled out the right documents.

Kate: This one is for domestic guests, this one is for foreign ones. Kate: And here is the list of interpreters for the foreign guests…

…

Foreign Noble: Thank you, I’m very honored to be invited.

Victor: Not at all, we should be the ones thanking you for making such a long journey. Victor: If there’s anything that troubles you during your stay at the palace–

Kate: We’ve prepared some information that may be helpful, please feel free to take it with you.

Before he could call my name, I pulled out the specially-prepared guides for foreign visitors, written in multiple languages. Finding the one written in the correct language, I passed it to Victor.

Foreign Noble: My, how convenient! Thank you kindly.

Victor looked at me in surprise for a moment, before turning his smile towards the foreign guest.

Victor: Have a pleasant evening.

-----

(It just doesn’t end…!)

I put my head in my hands as I stared at the papers spread out all across the table. I’d been running around this way and that to help Victor prepare for tomorrow’s parade. Before I knew it, night had fallen. But I was still sat down facing a mountain of documents and the still-blank schedules for tomorrow.

(I didn’t have time to take any notes.)

I wanted to stay beside him to get to know him better. But I was so busy that I didn’t have the time to write down even a single sentence. All I had the time for was to get the right documents for Victor when he needed them.

(I only memorized half of the guests, and the guard rotations are a complete blank…)

And since there were so many foreign guests, I also needed to remember the names of all the interpreters. Which I didn’t. And on top of that, I needed to make guard schedules for everyone in Crown keeping in mind where they’d be on the day of the parade.

(William is one of the banquet guests, so someone else will need to be stationed there. And William’s going to need time to prepare, so the timing of the swap…) (Oh, Harrison and Liam would be better here.) (Lord Elbert should be placed where there’s less people around, preferably with Alfons.) (Maybe it’d be better for Roger to be with Jude and Ellis…)

I tried putting together a schedule for tomorrow as I scribbled down names one after another.

(Nope, I can’t, my head’s spinning.)

I’d been running around all day with my brain working overtime to try to memorize everything, and fatigue was beginning to set in. I tried to stretch to alleviate it. I had decided to work in the common room instead of my bedroom because I was worried that I’d end up falling asleep.

(This was the right choice.)

If I had chosen to return to my room, I was sure that I’d immediately collapse into bed. I gave myself a pat on the back for thinking ahead.

(Anyway, I was the one who said I’d do this, so I need to finish it.)

Mustering up my resolve, I decided to start with the memorization first and reached for the documents.

Victor: So this is where you’re working?

Victor appeared in front of me, setting a tea set onto the table.

Kate: You haven’t gone to sleep yet?

Tomorrow, Victor would have a long day of official business as the queen. I didn’t think he’d be in the common room at this hour.

Victor: I thought you’d still be up, so I wanted to bring you some tea. Victor: I went to your room first, but it was empty…

He took a seat.

Kate: Sorry to make you look for me. I know you must be busy.

Victor: Don’t apologize. I’m very happy to do this, so you don’t have to mind at all.

He touched the side of the teapot, tossing a wink my way.

Victor: It was piping hot earlier, so it should be at a comfortable temperature to drink now. Victor: Lucky you, you won’t have to wait for it to cool down.

(He really is kind.)

He saw the bright side in everything, even playing the fool, just so others wouldn’t feel bad. It was something I noticed as I spent more time with him.

Victor: Here you go.

Kate: Thank you.

I took the teacup from him and took a sip. Warmth filled me as I savored the tea’s rich flavor and aroma.

Kate: It’s delicious.

Victor: Wonderful! I’ll have a cup too.

As he set down his own teacup after taking a sip, he looked towards the blank schedules.

Victor: Since you might not manage in time, I’ll help.

His offer was generous, but I couldn’t accept it. I didn’t want to admit to him I couldn’t do it.

Kate: I’ll finish everything before your duties tomorrow begin. Kate: Tomorrow morning, can you review the schedules?

Victor: Alright. But don’t push yourself too hard.

As I picked up my pen again, he closed his eyes.

Kate: Are you going to stay here?

Victor: I know I should head to bed early, but I don’t seem to be very sleepy.

This wasn’t very different to the idle conversations we used to have while working in his office together, or at least it shouldn’t have been. But the knowledge that this was all coming to an end in a few days filled me with loneliness.

Kate: So you also have trouble sleeping before a big day?

I tried to continue the conversation, as if that would prolong the time we had together.

Kate: When I was a kid, I never slept properly before going on trips.

Victor: I’m sorry, I can’t help but imagine what you were like as an excited child unable to sleep. It’s too cute.

He laughed gently.

Kate: And not just before trips too. I’d also have trouble sleeping the night before going ice skating on the Thames in winter. Kate: But because of that I ended up getting sick the day of. I was so disappointed…

Victor: Haha, how tragically adorable.

He laughed again. My heart swelled with joy to hear it. The conversation drifted to a close, and silence filled the air. As I wracked my brain for something else to talk about, Victor suddenly took one of the papers.

Victor: I really don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep, so let me help you.

He flipped through the documents, turning a smile my way.

Kate: Okay.

And thus a warm night passed.

(If only we could stay like this forever…)

I wished silently that this night would never end.

[liberty-barnes]

if there was no end

Arthur Leclerc x Female!Reader

Summary: Grieving someone who is not yet death was a special kind of suffering. One that Arthur wouldn't have wished on anyone, but especially not her.

Warnings: heavy heavy angst, mentions of dementia and the future death of a family member, mentions of Hervé's death, grief-induced mental breakdown, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k words

Estimated Reading Time: 8 minutes

A/N: fun fact this is actually a true story that is currently happening to me but the difference is that mid mental breakdown I just thought "oh wait this would be an awesome fic" and then this was born. coping through writing iktr (i'm fine promise, therapy's great y'all), anyways hope you enjoy

in happier news, i have officially started writing part 2 to you will not always want to shatter so keep an eye out for that everyone!

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None of it would be so sweet Or so important If there was no end. (Liam Xavier, Welcome to Hell and Other Poems About Adulthood)

Arthur opened the door to their flat and immediately knew something was wrong.

Her keys were in the shell-shaped bowl by the entryway, her shoes neatly lined up on the rack, and her coat hung in its rightful place. So she was home.

But the flat was silent.

No singing along to whatever songs she had on repeat, no voices from a movie or show she’d decided to watch, not even the sound of the shower running.

Just silence.

He toed off his shoes, hung up his coat, and made his way through the apartment. The living room was silent, as were the kitchen and the terrace. The spare room, converted half into her personal library and half into Arthur’s practice room for the piano, showed no signs of life. It was worse than he thought, then. The only time you could find (Y/n) silent in their bedroom in the middle of the day was when she was sick, or…

“Mon ange?”

He knocked on the half-open door, coming in slowly. She hummed absent-mindedly, eyes fixated on a card in her hands, dried tear tracks staining her cheeks. She was sat in the middle of the bed, face so void of emotion, you’d wonder if she’d ever even had any.

“Hey, baby…”

She hummed again, but he could tell she wasn’t really present. He slowly sat down on the bed next to her, legs crossed just like hers until his right knee and arm were touching her left ones.

“What’s wrong?”

She kept looking at the card in her hand. It had a little Christmas tree on it. There were dozens of others spread out on the bed, all with various designs and motifs.

“Did you know I was the first grandchild to be born on my dad’s side?”

Her voice was scratchy, but it never wavered.

“My grandmother and her older sister lived in houses next to each other. I never made the distinction between the two. It wasn’t Grandma’s house and Aunt Grace’s house. It was Grandma and Auntie’s house. For ten years, I was the only grandchild. And Aunt Grace always treated me like I was a blessing.”

He could see her eyes were starting to get red, and he sighed internally. This was going to be a bad one. Because it just hit for her.

Six months ago, her Aunt Grace had been diagnosed with dementia. Arthur was there when she learned the news. He was prepared for screaming, and crying, and having to hold her broken pieces together with his bare arms.

But all she did was smile and say, “it’s alright, no one lives forever, this was bound to happen at some point”.

Arthur had been waiting for the fallout ever since.

“After we moved to Monaco, she’d send me cards every year. For my birthday, Christmas, Easter, International Children’s Day… I was a kid but I knew I wanted to keep them all. And I did.”

He looked at the cards spread out in front of her.

“I called Grandma today to see if I could say hi to Auntie… See how she’s doing. I guess I must have caught her during a bad day cause… It took almost half an hour of us talking for her to remember me. I get it, you know? I’m far away, she doesn’t see me very often, her health’s deteriorating… of course it’s gonna get harder and harder to remember me but… It’s only ever taken a few minutes. It never took this long.”

She fiddled with the card in her hands, eyes full of tears.

“So, I thought… Since I was missing her, I could re-read the cards she sent me over the years. I mean sure, the last one she sent me was when I was fifteen and that was seven years ago, but… Still.”

She sniffed, voice starting to crack now.

“So I read them and… I forgot how she used to sign them… Every time, without fail…”

She opened the card and at the bottom were the nine words that made Arthur draw in a sharp breath.

“Love from your Aunt Grace, who never forgets you. I forgot she used to do this. It started off as a joke cause I was a five-year-old kid who was worried my aunt would forget to wish me happy birthday cause I was moving to a new country. But she kept doing it. Kept reminding me that no matter the distance, she’d always be there for me. Love from your Aunt Grace, who never forgets you.”

Her breath hitched as the first tear started to fall.

“What kind of— fucking sick and twisted— awful, awful shit— some kind of cosmic joke?”

She hiccuped her way through half-formed sentences, trying and failing to voice out what was in her head, and he just pulled her to him. He tucked her head into his chest, arms coming around her shoulder, one hand still firmly in the back of her hair.

“It’s alright, mon coeur, just let it all out.”

He’d heard her cry before, of course. (Y/n) was an emotional person, she cried at everything: movies, songs, those cheesy Christmas commercials. He was used to seeing her cry, to comforting her through it.

Never like this, though. Never these full-body sobs, or hiccuping, half-choked-off screams. Never felt her clutch at him with the full force of her body, like she was worried he’d disappear, knuckles turning white and nails digging into his flesh. Never felt her cry for ten, twenty, thirty minutes, until her body exhausted itself and she just fell asleep.

She was limp in his arms now, breaths still coming out unevenly, tears leaking out of her eyes for minutes more, still.

Arthur didn’t know what to do. What do you say to a person going through something like that? What can you say? 

“Her suffering will end soon”? “At least she lived a full life”? “She doesn’t have to remember you to love you”? 

What bullshit.

He didn’t know what to say. He was pretty sure (Y/n) didn’t even know what she wanted to hear. All he could do was hold her as she slept, wipe away her tears, and make sure she knew how much he loved her.

He laid her down on the bed, covered her up so she wouldn’t be cold, and put the letters on her nightstand.

He might not know what to say, but he could at least make her some soup for when she woke up.

—

“Thur?” 

It was well past sunset when she came into the kitchen, dressed in his favourite hoodie and wearing her comfortable fuzzy pants. Her face was still puffy from all the crying, and her eyes had that vacant look in them, but she was there.

“Hey, mon ange, how are you feeling?”

She shrugged, staring at the pot he was stirring.

“What are you making?”

He turned off the hob and took out two bowls.

“Chicken noodle soup. Figured we could eat this while watching a Barbie movie, something to make you feel better.”

She nodded.

“Wanna get settled on the couch and put on the movie?”

She nodded again, still a bit absent, and he took the toasted garlic bread slices out of the oven. He put everything on the tray along with some chilled water, and made his way to the living room, where Barbie of Swan Lake was just beginning.

It took her the entirety of the movie to finish her food, but Arthur was just glad she did. She didn’t like to eat when she was sad, said it made her feel weird, so this was quite the accomplishment.

Neither of them moved, even as the end credits ran. He just sat there, holding her, as she stared blankly at the screen.

“Do you want me to get you a flight home?”

She straightened up.

“What?”

“To see your aunt, spend some time with her.”

She shook her head.

“No, no… I have uni, and my job, I can’t just leave.”

He kept his eyes on her.

“No one would fault you for taking a semester off. And I have more than enough money that your job shouldn’t be a concern, not when it’s about something like this.”

She sighed, coming back down to lay in his arms. He held her tightly, running his fingers through her hair.

“There’s a part of me that wants to, you know. But she’s only getting worse. Grandma said she spends most of her time just looking outside or completely zoned out, with only a few hours where she acts more or less normally. It’s like she’s there but at the same time…not. 

“As much as I want to spend all my time with her, I don’t want to remember her as a barely functioning human. I want to keep the good memories. And I know she’d never forgive me if she knew I was neglecting my studies because of her.”

She paused, but he didn’t speak, knowing more was coming.

“I feel like a horrible person, though. And selfish. Like, she’s dying and I’m pissed at her for forgetting me. And my whole family’s pitching in to keep her company but I don’t wanna see her outside of facetimes on her good hours cause I don’t want that image of her to overtake the good memories. She’s always been such a beacon of light and happiness, and now I can’t bring myself to be around her when she’s weak. I’m a horrible person.”

He shook his head and tightened his hold on her.

“No, you’re not.”

“I am, though. I’m supposed to be helping her. To call every day, regardless of her mood so I can still see her.”

He sighed.

“Baby… Look, I know you feel guilty, but you can’t sacrifice your own mental health for anyone. Not even her.”

He felt her tears start to dampen her shirt, and simply held her tighter.

“I just… I don’t know how to deal with this. I knew she’d be gone eventually but I never thought she’d go so soon, let alone like this…”

Arthur couldn’t help but think back to his father. He never wanted anyone else to have to go through what he did, mourning someone who wasn’t yet gone, let alone her.

“Have you thought about therapy? Or, well, grief counselling?”

She didn’t answer.

“I went to it about three months into Papa’s diagnosis. Kept going for a few years after. I still have Dr Claire’s number.”

There was a long pause in which he didn’t dare speak. He just stared at the pendulum wall clock (Y/n) found at a flea market when they first moved in, watching the brass circle go back and forth.

“Did it help?”

She sounded hesitant, quiet. So unlike herself.

“It did. She’s great, honestly, helped me understand a bunch of things and deal with the pain of losing my father, the drawn-out mourning of someone who wasn’t even gone yet. The weekly sessions were a big help.”

She was silent for a little while longer.

“Okay…” 

—

She was staring at the pale yellow house like it would eat her alive. The whole drive there, she hadn’t stopped fidgeting.

“Hey, bébé…”

He squeezed her hand to get her attention, and she turned her frightened eyes back to him.

“I’m proud of you. It’s hard to ask for help, and I’m so so proud you did. I’ll be waiting for you right here, and we can go get ice cream right after the session, okay?”

She bit her lips nervously.

“Promise?”

“Promise. Je t’aime.”

She leaned in for a kiss and he felt her relax the longer it went on.

“I love you too.”

And as he saw her enter Dr Claire’s office, he could only hope the pain would become more manageable. But either way, he’d be there for her. No matter what.

before i sign off, i just wanted to say that if you're going through something like this, or if you're in a bad spot and you just wanna talk, my asks and dms are always open for you guys. anyway that's enough feelings out of me for today.

don't forget to comment and reblog, and keep your eye out for more stuff coming soon!

-Love, Miah <3

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@aykxz98

[ateotd-izzy]

something, somehow, someday - stiles stilinski x fem!reader

PROLOGUE

summary: you ask stiles if he thinks the two of you are together in every universe.

☾

beacon hills, california, 2013

you were exhausted. you felt sick, so tired. you hadn’t slept in days, and when you had it was midway through a movie and by accident.

you tried your best to look presentable at school. but makeup couldn’t hide the tiredness in your eyes, how you kept nodding off in math.

now in econ you were slumped into your chair with your arms crossed.

“hey, you okay?” a voice whispered from your left and you turned your head to see stiles’ brown eyes looking both concerned and expectant.

“hmm?” you asked, blinking a few times to focus your eyes and stiles’ eyebrows scrunched into confusion.

“i asked if you’re okay, babe. are you okay?” he asked and you nodded.

“yeah.” you put on a smile. “i’m great.”

“l/n! stilinski!” coach shouted from the front of the room and both of your heads snapped forward. “stop talking.”

“sorry, coach.” stiles apologized and you went quiet.

you got through the rest of class by yawning and rubbing your eyes until the bell rang.

then you slowly got out of your seat and packed your things into your bag.

“you sure you’re okay?” stiles asked, putting his arm around your shoulder and picking up your backpack for you as you left the classroom.

“yeah.” you gave him a smile. “just tired.”

“yeah, that’s what i used to say, then it turned out i was being possessed by an evil dark spirit.” he whispered to me and i shook my head with a smile.

“i’m fine. i promise.” i told him and leaned in to kiss him on his lips.

“gross. out in the middle of the hall, guys? seriously?” liam complained as he walked past and you rolled your eyes at the younger boy.

that evening you were with stiles at his house. you were making dinner, because the sheriff wasn’t home and you knew better than to let stiles around the stove.

stiles had his nose in the fridge, digging around inside like some sort of scavenger.

“what are you even looking for in there?” you asked, giggling a little as stiles stuck his head out to look at you.

“i think we’re out of milk.” stiles replied. “i gotta tell my dad.”

“stiles, i’ve got it over here.” i told him. “you literally got it out for me like 5 minutes ago.”

he paused and glanced to the countertop beside me where the carton of milk was sitting.

“oh.” he chuckled and kissed my head as he walked past me to grab it. then he lifted the open carton to his lips.

“dude, gross!” i lowered my hand that was holding the wooden spoon stirring the pasta sauce i was making. “get a glass.”

“my house, my rules.” he stuck his tongue out at me and took a large sip from the bottle.

i poked my tongue out back at him then went back to my cooking.

eventually the food was done and the two of us sat down on his couch with the bowls of pasta.

i had set up a DVD and stiles was putting on the movie when i looked to my left to stare at him.

when he noticed, he paused and looked back at me.

“what’s up?”

“do you think we’re together in every universe?”

“what do you mean?” he asked me in return, his eyebrows scrunching together at my question.

“like, do you think in a different universe we would still be dating?” i reworded my question. “like a universe without werewolves where we actually had a normal time in high school.”

“oh, like a multiverse thing?” he asked me and i nodded.

“i’m not sure, why?”

“i don’t know.” i shrugged. “it’s just something i’ve been thinking about.”

stiles paused, just looking into my eyes, before he leaned in and kissed me.

“i don’t really know the answer to that question, but i hope we are.”

[maxybabyy]

winter warmers day 3: hand holding (maxiel)

The carousel swings to let them through, voices becoming louder as the group grows.

The carousel swings again, and this time Daniel knows Max is with them. His laughter is loud and familiar, voice croaky as he retells the punch line of a joke Daniel had told him on the plane on their way over. It’s really not that funny but his audience laughs still, Charles nudging his shoulder until Max’s smile  glows under the soft warmth of the hotel lights.

Daniel kicks the kerb and watches as the group breaks apart, sloppy kisses on cheeks and promises of padel dates when they’re all back in Monaco.

He’s almost by Max’s side, hands already reaching out to support his stumbling feet, when someone intercepts him with a clammy touch to his shoulder.

“Daniel, hi! I didn’t know you were around,” Christian says and pulls him in for a hug. He smells of whiskey and cologne, and Daniel hates how it reminds him of better times. Late nights in the English countryside, and the dreams they had once shared. “Well, what a coincidence.”

“Yeah, imagine that,” Daniel says and doesn’t elaborate.

Lando has started to free himself from Max’s arms, and Daniel knows it won’t be long until he attaches himself to someone new, and then Daniel will never get him back to the hotel.

“Listen, I know things didn’t end the way we wanted them to, but I don’t want you to –“

The oxygen sticks in his throat, but he has to keep breathing. A different hotel flashes in his mind, soft plush chairs threatening to swallow him up as his world had crumbled around him. His heart beats too fast in his chest, and he knows this is one of those situations he should pull himself out of.

But Christian is still talking, about next year and Checo’s seat. About Liam and Yuki, and how they have options. And Daniel hates it all the same, the acrid taste of anger scorched into his tongue. He wants to tear it all down and watch it burn, fading into nothing until there’s no one left. No one but Max and GP, and maybe a handful of the mechanics so he can continue driving the car, continue to win. Because if it can’t be him, Daniel wants it to be Max.

“I’m here for Max,” he says, and his breath comes a little easier now.

Max who is lovely and kind and loves Daniel even when he doesn’t have a seat. Max who holds his hand and talks about retirement without fear in his heart, like it’s an achievement and not the death sentence Daniel still mostly sees it as.

“But then I will have so much time to be with you, Daniel,” Max will say on the worst of days and kiss his face where the skin has been stretched thin with age. “And always I think that sounds so lovely.”

He isn’t there yet, but he thinks with Max by his side he will probably get there.

“Oh, you could have come inside, sat with the team,” Christian offers now.

Daniel, with his hands shoved deep in a pair of sweatpants certainly not fit for polite company, snorts. “Better not. People might get the wrong idea, think there’s something more to it. Promises made, promises kept and all that,” he adds with a wink.

Max comes to him easy when he calls and folds himself into Daniel’s side as they walk back to the hotel.

“Did you have fun?” Daniel asks and lets Max pull his hand into his. He wraps their fingers around each other and brings them to his mouth, lips soft over the skin of his rose.

“Hmm, it would of course have been better if you were there,” Max tells him, a drunken tongue slipping over the words. “But always that is what I want, so.”

Daniel breathes out softly. He knows Max knows why he could not be there tonight, knows Max understands and doesn’t mean anything by it. But the ache in his chest grows still.

“I’m here now,” he says instead and hopes it’s enough.    

[httpiastri]

already barely holding it together as they're getting their hand held but then they feel that reassuring squeeze and they just can't - with Liam Lawson

🍈 – send me a driver and a prompt from this list of hugging prompts, these touch starved prompts, or these kiss prompts, and i will write a short blurb for you!!

author's note: aaaaaa darling thank u so much for requesting, and thank u so much for requesting liam !!!!! hope you like it 🥺

3k celly !!

fake girlfriend!reader x best friend!liam lawson

in hindsight, you never should've agreed to this.

coming with liam, your best friend and the guy you've been head over heels in love with for years, to his sister's birthday dinner was already a bad idea on its own. but sitting there with him to act like his girlfriend?

pure stupidity, to be honest.

'of course', you had told liam when he first asked you to cover for him, after his long rant about how his parents kept on making fun of him for still being single, even at 22 years of age and even after being an f1 points scorer. 'i'd do anything for you'.

you've never regretted any words more, because now you find yourself at a table in some fancy restaurant, squeezed in between liam and holly, your cheeks already hurting with the forced smile you've been putting on all evening. your pulse probably hasn't gone below 200 in about an hour now, always awaiting some suspicious question or something to expose your act.

liam, however, feels the exact opposite. to him, it all feels very natural; having you near him, you smiling at him, looking like you're actually in love with him. he's adoring every second of this, even if it's just an act.

he senses your tenseness quite easily, though. he has always had a certain skill of picking up on your subtle cues. with what he hopes you understand is a genuine action, not just one for the show, liam reaches forward to your hand that's been tapping restlessly on the table, intertwining his fingers with yours.

the conversation liam is currently having with his sister is long forgotten in your mind now. did liam just grab my hand? is he actually holding my hand right now? we promised no more than the necessary pda-

liam almost lets out an involuntary chuckle at the way your eyes dart down to your laced hands, shoulders tensing up even more than before. but when your gaze then moves up to meet his, something feels even more strange – because why is he looking down at you like that? with so much tenderness, so much affection, so genuinely? is he really that good of an actor?

and as if all of that wasn't enough, your heart nearly stops when his hand gives you a soft squeeze.

a feeling you definitely can get used to.

("oh my god, you both are so cute!" holly's voice brings you out of your thoughts, making you look back at the birthday girl. "who would've known little liam could get himself someone so sweet?")

[biblical-chronicles]

Out of the blue

____________________________________________

where Liam tries his best to propose, but his nerves get the best of him each time, until a simple, tender gesture from you leads the confession to slip out in the most unexpected place

____________________________________________

Liam had it all planned out. A nice dinner at a swanky restaurant—not too over the top, because that wasn’t his style, but posh enough to feel special. He’d booked the table weeks in advance, thinking this would be the perfect place to finally pop the question. It was quiet, dimly lit, with candles flickering in polished glass holders. The kind of place where big moments were made, where people whispered about love and promises over expensive wine.

The ring was burning a hole in his pocket. It had been for weeks. Liam kept it tucked in the inside pocket of his leather jacket he didn't wear so often, convinced you’d spot it otherwise. Tonight, though, it was out of the jacket and into his jeans, closer to hand for when the moment arrived.

As the two of you sat across from each other, sipping wine and laughing about something ridiculous that had happened earlier in the day, Liam couldn’t help but think how right it all felt. You looked beautiful, your face glowing in the soft light, completely at ease. He loved seeing you like this, happy and relaxed, with him.

But then his stomach twisted. What if he messed this up? What if the words came out wrong, or you hesitated? What if you weren’t ready? The thought gnawed at him, and he took a longer sip of his wine, trying to steady his nerves.

“Everything alright?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you noticed his quietness. “You’ve gone all serious on me.”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, flashing a smile. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous,” you teased, nudging his foot under the table.

He chuckled, but his mind was already spinning again. He reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing the box. You’ve got this, Gallagher. Just say it. It’s not that hard. She loves you, doesn’t she?

He thought about how you’d turned his life upside down in the best way. How he’d sworn to himself after his divorce with Patsy that he’d never go through it again, never let himself care about someone enough to risk that kind of pain. But then you had come into the picture, and it was like someone had flipped a switch.

He hadn’t expected to fall for you, not like this. But here he was, sitting across from you, thinking about how badly he wanted that ring on your finger. How he wanted the whole world to know you were his, and he was yours.

“Liam?” you said again, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled. “Got a bit lost there.”

“Everything alright?”

“Perfect,” he said, the word almost choking him.

The waiter brought out your meals, and Liam decided he’d do it after. He’d wait for the plates to be cleared, then he’d take your hand and say it. Simple. Easy.

But as the meal went on, his resolve started to crumble. The closer he got to the moment, the more the nerves took over. His palms were clammy, and he was sure his face had gone red at least twice when you’d caught him staring at you.

Finally, as the plates were cleared and the waiter offered dessert menus, Liam knew it was now or never. He reached for the box in his pocket, gripping it tightly as he looked across at you.

But then you smiled at him—soft, sweet, completely unguarded—and he froze. His throat tightened, his chest ached, and suddenly the words felt too big, too heavy. He wasn’t sure he could get them out without making a fool of himself.

“Liam?” you asked, tilting your head. “You’ve been quiet tonight. What’s going on?”

He let out a shaky laugh, slipping his hand out of his pocket and reaching for his glass instead. “Nothing, love. Just... thinking about how bloody gorgeous you are.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling, and Liam felt a pang of guilt. He’d bottled it. Again.

The ring stayed in his pocket as the night went on, the weight of it heavier than ever. He promised himself he’d find the right moment. Next time, he thought. Next time for sure.

But even as you both left the restaurant, his arm around your shoulders, Liam couldn’t shake the feeling that he was letting something slip through his fingers.

After the disaster at the restaurant, Liam had spent most of the night wrestling with his thoughts. He’d been so sure that the setting was perfect—dim lighting, soft music, posh food that he could hardly pronounce. But instead of helping, it had magnified his nerves tenfold. The pressure to say everything just right had overwhelmed him, and the words had never made it past the lump in his throat.

He could still see your face from the night before, your teasing grin as you’d joked about him being too quiet. You hadn’t pressed him, but he’d caught the flicker of curiosity in your eyes. He hated himself for bottling it, for sitting there with his heart screaming and his mouth refusing to cooperate.

When morning came, he resolved to try again. A new plan—something more relaxed, more him. The park came to mind. It was familiar, easy, and didn’t come with the suffocating pressure of an audience. Just you and him, strolling hand in hand. Surely, without all the added pomp, he could muster the courage.

All day, the idea rooted itself deeper in his mind. As you chatted about weekend plans over coffee, Liam found himself watching you intently, his chest tightening every time you laughed or gave him that knowing smile.

By the time you laced up your trainers for the walk, he’d convinced himself this was it. This is the moment, mate. No fancy settings, no waiters hovering. Just you and her. You can do this.

He slipped the ring box into his jacket pocket, his hand brushing over the velvet for reassurance.

The late afternoon sun cast the park in a golden glow as you strolled together, your arm linked with his. The air was crisp, the kind that kissed your cheeks pink, and the smell of damp leaves lingered from a recent rain. You were talking animatedly about plans for the next week—something about work, or maybe a dinner with friends—but Liam only half-heard.

He was too busy rehearsing in his head. Just say it, Gallagher. Four words. ‘Will you marry me?’ How hard can it be?

But the thought of it—of putting himself out there, exposing just how deeply he felt—made his stomach churn. His fingers brushed over the box again, the weight of it pressing like a lead weight against his ribs.

“You’re quiet again,” you said, glancing up at him with a playful nudge. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, too quickly.

You raised a brow. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“I’m not lying,” he shot back, forcing a laugh. “Just... takin’ it all in, that’s all. Nice night for a walk, innit?”

You eyed him for a moment, then softened. “Yeah, it is. And it’s nice having you here instead of glued to the telly."

He smirked at that, though the knot in his chest tightened.

The path ahead curved toward a quieter part of the park, away from the playground and picnic benches. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Liam slowed his steps, his heart hammering against his ribs. This was it. Now or never.

“Liam?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve stopped walking.”

He blinked, realizing his feet had indeed betrayed him. He turned to face you, his free hand slipping into his jacket pocket. The box was there, waiting, as if mocking him for his hesitation.

“You sure you're alright?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

“Yeah,” he said, though his throat felt tight. He cleared it, forcing himself to meet your gaze. “I just... y’know, wanted to say...”

The words caught. His chest felt too tight, his palms clammy. He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, drowning out the quiet sounds of the park around him.

“Wanted to say what?” you prompted gently, tilting your head.

He looked at you, at the way the golden light caught the curve of your cheek, and his resolve wavered. You were everything he’d promised himself he wouldn’t let happen again. Everything he thought he didn’t deserve. And yet, there you were—patient, kind, and completely unaware of the storm raging inside him.

“Just... that I’m glad you’re here,” he mumbled, withdrawing his hand from his pocket and instead brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.

Your brows knit together, but a soft smile curved your lips. “Well, that’s sweet of you. You’re sure you’re alright, though?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, leaning down to kiss you. It was a stalling tactic, but the moment your lips met his, he felt his nerves ease—if only slightly.

You kissed him back softly at first, your hand slipping to rest on his chest. When you pulled away, your smile was warmer, your gaze searching his. “Whatever’s going on in that head of yours, you know you can tell me, right?”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I know.”

But as you started walking again, he let out a silent curse. Another moment lost. The box in his pocket felt heavier than ever, and the knot in his chest only grew tighter.

The walk back from the park had taken an unexpected detour down a ginnel—a narrow, slightly sketchy shortcut Liam insisted would get you home quicker. The two of you had stopped for chips on the way, the paper wrapping still crumpled in your hand as you finished the last of them.

“See?” Liam said, his tone light, though his mind was far from the present. “Told you this was faster.”

“It’s dodgy as hell, though,” you replied, squinting at the uneven path ahead. The dim light barely illuminated the mud-slick ground, a recent bit of rain having left it more treacherous than usual.

“Dodgy’s where the fun is, love,” he said, his hands in his pockets, though his voice lacked its usual confidence.

He was still trapped in his own head, wrestling with the weight of the ring in his pocket. He barely heard you reply, his thoughts drowning out everything but the relentless thrum of, Just ask her already. Stop bottling it.

It happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to warn him. One step too far into the mud, and Liam’s foot slid out from under him. His arms flailed as he let out a startled yelp, landing unceremoniously on the ground with a loud, wet squelch.

“Liam!” you shouted, rushing to his side. “What the hell? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he grumbled, sitting up and brushing at his now-mud-covered parka. “Bloody mud, innit? Should’ve watched where I was goin’.”

“Stay still,” you instructed, dropping to your knees beside him. “You’ve got it all over your face—don’t move, or you’ll make it worse.”

He groaned, looking thoroughly unamused. “It’s nothin’, love. Leave it—”

“No chance,” you interrupted, already rummaging through your bag for tissues. “Honestly, you’re hopeless sometimes.”

He huffed a laugh, though his heart wasn’t in it. His thoughts were still spinning as you leaned in, carefully dabbing at the mud smeared across his cheek. Your touch was gentle, focused, and something about the way you fussed over him sent a pang straight through his chest.

You weren’t laughing at him, weren’t annoyed or disgusted. You were just...you. Lovely and kind and doting in a way that made his heart ache. It was too much. The tightness in his chest swelled to a breaking point, and before he could stop himself, the words he’d been trying to say for weeks finally burst out.

“Marry me.”

The phrase hung in the air, his voice barely above a whisper, but it landed like a firework between you.

Your hand froze mid-wipe, and your wide eyes snapped up to meet his, searching his face as if you weren’t sure you’d heard him correctly. “What?”

The second the reality of what he’d just done hit him, Liam’s heart nearly stopped. His stomach plummeted, and a panicked flush crept up his neck. “Shit. Shit. I—I didn’t mean—I mean, I did mean it, but not like this. Not here. Fuck.”

He raked a shaky hand through his hair, smearing mud into his fringe without even realizing it. “Oh god, I didn’t plan it like this, love. I was gonna do it proper, y’know? Dinner, candles, speeches—the whole fuckin’ nine yards. Not while I’m sittin’ on me arse in a ginnel lookin’ like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.”

His words tumbled out in a frantic rush, his Manc accent thickening as his nerves skyrocketed. Then he saw it. The tears gathering in your eyes, threatening to spill over, and his panic hit a fever pitch.

“Ah, no—don’t cry,” he stammered, his voice cracking as he reached for you, but his hands hovered, unsure. “Please, love, don’t cry. I’m such a knobhead—I shouldn’t’ve said it like that. Oh I've fucked it up, haven’t I? Completely cocked it.”

You were still silent, your lips parted as you stared at him, your cheeks glistening now as the tears broke free. Liam’s breathing was ragged, his pulse pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears.

“Listen,” he begged, the words rushing out, desperate to fix it. “Forget I said it, alright? I’ll do it over, yeah? The ring’s in me pocket—I’ve got it—I’ll do it proper. I’ll get on one knee and say somethin’ dead romantic, swear on me life. Just don’t—don’t cry. Please, love.”

He was rambling now, the fear that he’d ruined everything tearing him apart from the inside. “Christ, I’m such an idiot. You must think I’m a right muppet.”

And then, to his utter confusion, you launched yourself at him. Your arms wrapped around his neck so tightly he nearly lost his balance, and your face pressed into his shoulder as you let out a muffled, trembling laugh.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you held onto him like he might disappear. “Yes, Liam, yes.”

For a moment, Liam didn’t move. He sat there, stunned, his brain struggling to catch up.

“You—you’re serious?” he asked, his voice hoarse as his arms hesitantly circled your waist. “You mean it? You’ll—?”

“Yes,” you said again, pulling back just enough to look at him, your tear-streaked face glowing with joy. “Of course I mean it. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The relief that washed over Liam was so overwhelming it left him momentarily speechless. He laughed, but it came out shaky, and his hands framed your face as if he needed to be sure you were real.

“Bloody hell, love,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought I’d properly bollocksed it. You’re sure? You’re not just sayin’ it to shut me up?”

“Liam,” you said, your tone affectionate but firm as you leaned in closer. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

His laugh was softer this time, incredulous and laced with awe. “Christ, you’re unbelievable.”

You smiled, brushing a bit of mud from his cheek. “Can’t wait to be Mrs. Gallagher,” you said, your tone light but your gaze steady.

Liam’s breath caught, and his brow furrowed as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly. “Wait—you’d take me name?”

“Obviously,” you replied, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “Why wouldn’t I? I want to give all of myself to you, Liam. Completely.”

The words hit him hard, his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a quiet, shaky, “Fuckin’ hell.”

You chuckled, leaning in to kiss him, and this time, he met you halfway. The kiss was messy and emotional, but neither of you cared. His hands tangled in your hair, and yours gripped the lapels of his mud-smeared parka. When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, grinning like idiots.

“Look at us,” you said, gesturing to your ruined clothes. “We’re a right state.”

“Best state I’ve ever been in,” Liam replied, his grin wide and boyish.

The two of you stumbled to your feet, covered in mud but laughing like teenagers. As you walked hand-in-hand out of the ginnel, Liam couldn’t stop glancing at you, his heart full to bursting.

It wasn’t the proposal he’d planned—not even close. But looking at you, radiant and laughing beside him, he knew it was perfect.

____________________________________________

oh when I tell you I dead loved writin' this one, hope all you loves enjoy it as well xx (because who would say no to a smitten mud covered Liam?)

[dark-frosted-heart]

Tailor-made Love Story - Keith Howell Part 1/4

This is so late lol. As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

I had fallen asleep while holding my beloved in my arms—

The soft light shining on my eyes through the window had shifted from moonlight to sunlight.

(Morning already? But it’s too early to get up)

(I want some more time with Emma…)

When I reached out for Emma, I felt her stir and snuggle closer.

Imagining the sight, I took her hand in my half-conscious state. However, something felt off about the warmth against my fingertips.

Keith: …Hm?

(Why does Emma’s hand feel so small…?)

(It doesn’t fit well in mine)

After checking her hand, I stroked her hair. I was about to move toward the back of her neck, but drew my hand back.

Keith: Wha…what the…

Girl: Hm…

(Why is there a child here…?!)

The figure stirring in bed wasn’t Emma, but a little girl I didn’t recognize.

I jumped away and the girl stayed curled up on the shaking bed.

(...Did “he” bring her here? But I’d remember…)

(I committed an outrageous crime without even noticing…)

(But where’s Emma?)

After calming down, I took a look at the girl and noticed that she was wearing an oversized nightgown that was similar to Emma’s.

(That innocent look on her face when she sleeps is like Emma’s)

(Looking closer…her hair and beauty marks are similar too)

(Could this child…now way)

While I kept repeating the question in my head, the girl’s long lashes fluttered and she slowly opened her eyes.

Keith: !

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, which widened when our gazes met. 

Girl: …Who are you, big brother?

(She looks lost and confused)

(I don’t want to scare her)

I kneeled by the bed and gave her a smile.

Keith: Nice to meet you. I am Keith Howell.

Girl: Big brother…Keith.

(Big brother, huh)

(It’s nice hearing it without any formality*)

As we stared at each other, the eyes that were the same color as Emma’s wavered with unease.

Child: …Where am I?

(Ah, she’ going to cry)

(I don’t want to scare her…)

I got up and sat on the edge of the bed. When I reached out to her, the girl started.

Keith: I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I promise I won’t hurt you, so may I wipe your tears?

Girl: …

The girl who was holding her hands close to her chest nodded and I gently wiped her tears away with a finger.

Keith: It’s alright. Come here.

Girl: …Okay.

The small body I picked up to show warmth was tense.

(In times like these…)

I patted her back while she clung to my neck.

While I rocked her from side to side, I felt her relax.

(No matter how hard they cried, I always got Tio and Mireille to stop crying like this)

(It takes me back)

Keith: By the way, what’s your name?

Girl: Emma.

Keith: ! …That’s a lovely name.

(Not only do they look alike, but they have the same name too…)

Emma: Is something wrong?

When Emma tilted her head, her nightgown started to slip off her tiny shoulder.

I rushed to put it back in place and set her back down on the bed.

Keith: First, let’s get you dressed and then we’ll have breakfast…

Liam: Pardon the intrusion, Prince Keith.

Keith: Ah.

Liam: Huh…?

Upon entering the room, Liam’s eyes widened when he saw the girl.

Liam: I’m assuming this is “his” fault?

I shook my head sympathetically at my butler when he went pale and explained what happened when I woke up.

Liam: It sounds like she’s lost. However, the more I look at her, the more she reminds me of Lady Emma.

Keith: I was thinking the same. It’s like I’m meeting a little Emma.

Emma tilted her head and it looked like she had a hard time moving in her oversized nightgown.

Keith: Liam, get some clothes that’ll fit this girl.

Liam: Understood.

(In the meantime, we’ll have to discuss the next steps)

Keith: I’m going to have a chat with him. I’ll be back.

When I got up from the bed, Emma grabbed my thigh.

Emma: …I don’t wanna be alone.

My heart ached when I saw her trembling as she clung to me.

(Leaving her alone when she’s scared isn’t a good idea, is it?)

Keith: I’m sorry. I won’t leave you by yourself.

The moment I said that, I lifted her up and her thin arms wrapped around my neck.

(I’m the only one Emma can rely on. I need to protect her so that she doesn’t get scared)

--

After breakfast—

When I entered the meeting room with freshly changed Emma in my arms, the nobles gathered looked at me in shock.

(I wasn’t sure if I wanted to bring her to the meeting, but I promised that I wouldn’t leave her alone)

(The meeting’s not so important that it’d be awkward to be asked about it, so I hope they can forgive me today…)

Noble: Prince Keith, that girl…

Keith: She’s the child of an acquaintance.

After giving my excuse, Emma motioned for me to set her down—

*Referring to the fact that Keith’s used to being called nii-sama/onii-sama while child!Emma uses onii-chan. Also, Keith calls her Emma-chan.

[beauregardlionett]

did i rant to my friends about dorian and orym just to be called a simp? yes i did. and i'll do it again.

these two characters? consume my waking thoughts. because just fucking think about this from a timeline/literary point of view for a second with me.

orym lost his husband and his father-in-law (who he always calls dad because he didn't have a dad growing up) in a violent attack on his leader a while ago and whatever magic was used to kill them kept them dead - no reviving magic worked to bring them back. in the space of a single attack, he lost two of the most important people in his life, and now he's a widow who still mourns and loves in equal measure even while far from home trying to save the world. he loves even though he's scared of losing again.

dorian is a runaway heir to a title he never really wanted, a musician for himself, a charlatan hiding behind an easy smile, who has really only ever wanted to see the world in his own time and make real friends for once in his life. and he did that! all on his own! he was with the group at the beginning of the campaign but then they ran into his older brother who was in trouble and needed to lay low and dorian went with him, falling back on old instincts that family by blood comes first. he ran from the group and from the foundations he was building with them. because dorian has only ever run from the things that scare him. but now he's back, re-traced his frightened footsteps toward the daunting promise of tomorrow - not yet with the group, we're getting his side of the story first. and he even said it himself, that he ran from the group and now he's not sure why he did it, why he left, when he stands here now and realizes everything he wanted was already in front of him.

they have sending stones, a once a day chance to say something to each other in 25 words or less. they've been using them, keeping each other updated on where they are, that they're still alive, and kindling this flame even without dorian at the table, without even seeing each other, and liam has been carrying this torch alone for 78 episodes but damn it the flame is still lit regardless!

and orym always updates on their progress and location first, and with whatever words he has left he drops in a sentiment to remind dorian that they still care - that orym still cares. and orym is practical through and through, he's a strategist so he always always always uses his words wisely because he's so fucking limited by this spell but the last message he sent? he repeated himself, he admitted a weakness, he faltered.

he told dorian where they were. he asked if dorian could come their way. he admitted to struggling while his voice broke. he asked again but in a different way if dorian could come their way. he ended the message with the most heartbreaking "fuck, i miss you," i have ever heard in my life.

orym, the man who messaged dorian 52 episodes ago and said "glad you're not here, wish you were anyway." because they're constantly in danger, and he wouldn't wish that on dorian, but he still aches to have him near. orym, the man who confessed 13 episodes ago during a trial with his friends that he's lonely, that he misses dorian and sometimes he thinks it's okay and sometimes he doesn't - because he was married and is still mourning and how dare he have feelings for someone else? how dare he move on even when his husband would WANT him to be happy again? he indicated dorian was missed by everyone in three of his previous messages before the trial, before finally shifting to 'I, orym, me - it's me who misses you'.

and dorian, the one who replied to a message orym sent him with "stay steadfast, sending you fairer winds" in the most longing tone i have EVER heard. dorian, who kissed orym's forehead when they parted ways but that is the closest they have come to acknowledging whatever is between them. dorian, who has been to orym's home between exu and c3 and met orym's mom and knows about orym's husband.

when orym died 58 episodes ago, he went limp and the sending stone slipped out of his hand because he was trying to message dorian before he died, before he ran out of words and breath. before he was revived, there was a moment he stood in the beyond and saw his husband and he told orym "you're not done," and orym said "i really wish i could stay," and then his husband said "i'll still be here," and orym said, heartbroken, "oh, i miss you so bad."

he told dorian, "i've really missed you," and "fuck, i miss you." i miss you is orym's way of saying i love you.

they're so close. they are so close. and orym fully died 19 episodes after dorian left, but he was revived and then never told dorian via sending that happened. part of me wants dorian to find out and the other part hopes he never has to feel like he failed orym by leaving. because nothing could have changed that from happening, not even dorian.

they are so close to reuniting, orym has needed dorian back for WEEKS and he's so close. i'm begging them to hold on so they can hold each other again.

and, again, from a literary point of view, you know the wildest part about all of this?

none of it is scripted.

[tbyfandoms]

Birthday Blues | Austin Butler x Reader

Pairing: austin butler x f!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: noticing her struggle with the loss and memory of her brother on his birthday, austin helps and comforts y/n with the celebration of his special day (requested)

Warnings: mentions of deceased siblings, descriptions of grief

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: it’s been so long since I’ve updated and I’m so sorry for that. I’ve missed writing so much and hope this is me getting back into my groove. I started this request ages ago but just now finished it. it’s felt so weird rounding out this fic about grief after hearing the news about liam (for any of my fellow directioners) and it’s just crazy to me how so many of the feelings and instances I wrote about in this fic have been a reality lately. I hope you’re all doing well whether you’ve been affected or not, and please remember to keep those you love close and to let them know how much you love them. to the anon who requested this, I hope this fic brings you comfort, thank you so much for requesting <3

Today’s the day. The day you’ve been anxiously awaiting for a while now. Every year it’s the same, it never seems to get easier for you no matter how hard you wish it would.

It’s your brother’s birthday, and it’s been a while since you’ve gotten to celebrate with him in person. He passed away and every year on his birthday you find yourself unable to function properly. Everyone tells you it gets better with time, but you’re still waiting for that to start kicking in.

There are some days where you find yourself so overcome with grief you can’t even find the right words to describe it, and there are other days where for a little while you almost forget he’s not here anymore. You yearn for those days, those days that feel like you’re floating and there’s nothing but calmness surrounding you.

You wish his birthday was one of those tranquil days.

As you move mechanically around the kitchen, doing your normal tasks as you would any other day, you find yourself trying not to fall apart.

Grief is a really funny thing. At times you believe your mourning period has passed and that that part of you that’s now missing has been patched and you’ll be able to handle this day on your own without any consolation. Other times you don’t even know how you’re able to stand up on your own and be expected to continue on. It’s like a balancing act, never knowing which way the scale is going to tip. Calm or devastated. Good or bad.

Pouring yourself something to drink, you think back on all the happy memories with your brother that you can. You know in your heart he wouldn’t want you to be sad today, or any day really. It’s just incredibly hard to not notice his absence, especially on his special day. It’s hard when you miss him so much and want nothing more than to celebrate with him instead of without.

Over the past few days you’ve tried not to focus too much on your brother’s birthday. You’ve kept busy and continued business as usual but you can’t deny the moments of sadness that crept in unannounced. You’ve talked to other family members about it and some of your friends too, a lot of them knowing what this day means to you and how hard it can be. You always keep up a brave face but it’s easier said than done on some days compared to others.

The sound of padded footsteps coming from your right breaks you out of your thoughts. When you turn your head you’re met with the soft smile on your boyfriend’s face. It’s impossible not to reciprocate it. You don’t know a soul on this Earth that’s ever been able to withstand a smile from Austin Butler.

“Hi, baby,” he says as he wraps his arms around you, his warmth and familiar scent immediately settling over you. Your body instantly relaxes against him, comfort beginning to course through your veins.

“Hi, Aus.” It comes out almost like a whisper and you curse yourself for already showing a sign of weakness. You promised yourself last night that you’d try to get through this day on your own, not wanting to distract Austin from any of his work or typical routine. Alas it’s not turning out how you hoped. That’s the thing about grief though, no matter how hard you try, you never do know when it’s going to come creeping back in.

Busying yourself with cleaning up, you ease yourself out of Austin’s grasp. For some reason you feel that if you stay that close to him, it won’t be long before your walls start crumbling down and you’ll both end up wrapped in devastation.

To be fair, you don’t even know if your boyfriend realizes what today is. You know you’ve mentioned it in passing, but with not wanting to make a big deal out of it you never really went into detail. You’ve talked to Austin about your brother before whether it be reminiscing about childhood memories or recalling an inside joke, but you always try to keep that devastation at bay.

The blonde hasn’t said anything about it recently and with his hectic schedule lately, you’re sure it hasn’t even crossed his mind. You’re not hurt by it, if anything you understand and appreciate it. It’s probably best if you handle today alone, in your own way.

A small frown adorns the corner of your lips and you make sure to turn your head so Austin doesn’t notice it. One thing about him is that he’s always able to pick up on your emotions and can tell when something’s wrong. Best plan of action is to just proceed as you normally would. You’re sure the actor has a million and one things to do today, so he should be out the door any minute now and you’ll be able to tackle the day however your head and heart deem fit.

“Are you hungry?” You say as chipper as you can while you start to open up a cabinet, ready to whip up anything your boyfriend would like. “I can make you your favorite or if you have to leave soon I can just make you something to take on the go.”

“No, I’m okay, thank you. I-I’m not working today.” You nearly bash your head into the cabinet door as you hear this. Your boyfriend was practically always working, especially now. So him saying this totally takes you by surprise.

“Why not?” You turn around and face Austin and just based off the look on his face you can tell he remembers what day it is. His eyes are so sincere and you nearly burst into tears because he hasn’t even said anything and yet you know exactly why he isn’t working. Why he most definitely told his manager and whoever else that today specifically was off limits for any meetings or shoots.

“I took the day off. I know I haven’t brought it up lately and you probably thought I forgot, but I know what today is, what it means and how important it is to you. I just wanted to be here with you and to let you know if you need me that I’ll be right here. I won’t let you deal with today on your own, sweetheart.” His tone is soft and he reaches out to caress your cheeks, wiping a tear you hadn’t even realized slipped out in the process.

“Austin I-,” you gulp, emotion rising fast in your throat as you look into his blue eyes and feel the empathy radiating off of him. “You didn’t have to do that. I know how busy you are and I know it must’ve taken a lot to have your day cleared. Really, it’s fine if you want to go to work. I-I can handle it, I’m fine-“

Your voice cracks and in that same moment you feel like part of your heart does as well.

Austin’s hands are tangled in your hair in an instant as he pulls you in close, holding your head against his shoulder as you begin to fall apart in his arms. There it is, one of those grief stricken moments you swore you wouldn’t allow to take over you today. So much for holding it together.

Clearly your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind though, and for that you’ll be eternally grateful. You let yourself go, let your emotions go, as he whispers affirmations in your ear. Softly shushing you and assuring you that it’s ok to let it all out. It’s almost scary how easy it is for you to do this as well. To let yourself be vulnerable like this. But honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way. If you’re going to fall apart in anyone’s arms, there’s no one better than Austin’s to do it in.

After a while of being wrapped up in the blonde’s arms and after your sobs begin to turn into soft hiccups, you feel collected enough to take a small step back and start to wipe away any remaining tears.

“I’m sorry, Aus,” you whisper, feeling a little bad for just falling apart like this. You know he doesn’t mind, he wouldn’t have taken the day off if he did, but even still.

“Hey, hey, hey, do not apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Austin reaches out and swipes his thumbs underneath your eyes, collecting tears that haven’t yet fallen. “I’m here for you, and if that means being a human tissue for the day then I’m fine with that.”

A small laugh bubbles out of your throat and the sound makes Austin smile. He loves your laugh and he’d do anything to hear it, especially on a day like this.

“I hope you know how much I appreciate you. I know you’re no stranger to grief when losing a loved one, but I still appreciate you taking this in stride and just being there for me. This day it’s-it’s-,” your breath catches in your throat, but you clear it, not wanting your emotions to take over again. “It’s hard, but you certainly make it a lot less difficult to deal with and for that I’m grateful.”

“Of course, baby. I’m here for you, always. When you lose someone you love, it’s difficult enough to deal with, yet alone trying to deal with it on your own. I promise you I’ll always be here for you on this day and every other one you may need me for as long as you’ll have me.”

A small smile breaks out on your lips and you don’t know a better response than wrapping your arms around Austin and squeezing him with all the love and appreciation you can muster. You can’t even imagine a day without him. You’ll have him forever if you’re able to.

Once the two of you break apart you watch as Austin begins to say something, but then appears to hesitate. His eyes meet yours and you start to wonder what it is he wants to say to you.

“Now I don’t ever want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, but over the past couple days I’ve been thinking about what we could do to celebrate your brother today. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to take you somewhere.” The blonde takes a breath and then reaches for your hand, squeezing once before continuing. “You trust me, right?”

You’ve never felt more sure of anything than you do right now in this moment when you say, “Yes, with my whole heart.”

Your boyfriend smiles and you feel your stomach flutter with both gratitude and anticipation for what he has planned. No matter where it is he ends up taking you, you know with one hundred percent certainty that he’s doing it because he loves you and cares for you in a way you never even thought possible. That fact alone is what carries you out of that kitchen and through the front door.

*****

When Austin pulls the car into the parking lot of the flower shop connected to the cemetery your brother is buried in, you feel your heart begin to swell.

On the drive over, you began to brainstorm ideas of where it is your boyfriend was taking you. There was a small part of you that hoped he wasn’t driving you to some restaurant or your family’s house to try and take your mind off today, but that he was taking you right to this very place. In your mind, there’s no better way to celebrate and remember your brother than celebrating with him as much as you’re physically able to.

Not a lot of people find comfort in visiting a grave in a cemetery, but it’s one of the only ways you’re able to feel some sort of closeness to your brother. He might not be visible to you, but there’s something about sitting there and just talking out loud to him that allows you to feel some semblance of peace.

“Now I know everyone feels differently when it comes to visiting graves and doing stuff like this. So if you’re at all uncomfortable being here, you just let me know and I’ll turn this car around, we’ll go right back home, and I’ll apologize for the rest of my life for ever crossing any boundaries with you.”

A breathy laughs escapes you and you shake your head as you reach out and hold Austin’s hand in yours. “No, this is perfect. I very much appreciate you even thinking of doing this. I haven’t been able to come out here in a while, especially not alone, so I’m grateful you brought me here and that you’re willing to be by my side during it.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he smiles.

Austin turns off the car and the two of you make your way inside, the smell of fresh flowers instantly hitting your nose and you breath in deeply, wanting to hold onto it. It’s crazy to think there could be something so beautiful and alive surrounded by a place so sorrowful and morbid. Somehow, you think there’s something poetic to be found in that.

Both you and Austin wander around the shop for a while, taking in all the gorgeous arrangements decorated specifically for different types of family members. You see plaques for parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and then finally siblings. It hurts your heart to know people lose their loved ones in a blink of an eye every day. No one is safe from the horrors and unfairness of the world, but you wish with everything you’ve got that they were.

You wish nearly every day that your brother had been.

As you walk further down the aisle, you find yourself getting stopped by a bouquet. It stands out from the others, it’s almost as if the colors and arrangement of it were calling out to you. One look at it and you know instantly it’s the one you’d like to get for your brother.

“Aus, this one’s perfect,” you say softly, stopping your boyfriend in his tracks. He looks over at it and smiles fondly. He thinks it’s perfect almost as much as you do.

Austin instantly grabs it and the two of you walk over to the checkout counter. You reach into your purse so you can grab your wallet, but the actor holds his hand out and shakes his head. “Let me, for his birthday.”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes at the sentiment and all you’re able to do in response is nod your head slightly and give Austin a wobbly smile. You don’t know why you’re so surprised over all of this. This is who Austin is, it’s who he always has been, and it’s who he always will be.

*****

The gravel road that winds every which way through the cemetery causes the car to shake just slightly as Austin follows your instructions to get to your brother’s grave. You’re not entirely convinced that’s the sole reason your stomach starts to knot though.

Even though it’s been a while since you’ve visited this place, the moment Austin pulled up to the gates it was like you were here just yesterday. The landmarks are all too familiar, the shapes of other people’s headstones, and the view of other grieving families scattered around bring everything back instantly.

As you look around and tell Austin to pull over to the right up ahead, you start to feel a little lightheaded. In your mind you can see the day you buried your brother so vividly. You can hear the sniffles of family and friends and feel the slight breeze in the air as he was lowered into the ground.

Even though you appreciate being able to still somewhat spend time with your brother here, it does make it all seem so much more real. When you don’t come and visit, sometimes you’re able to pretend that he’s still here, still alive. But the minute you see that headstone, you’re reminded that he’s not, and it gets harder to shake the sadness.

Austin puts the car in park and you both sit in silence for a moment. He watches you look out the window, knowing all too well the emotions running through you right now. He gives you a minute more before speaking up.

“Do you want me to wait in the car or is it okay to come with you?” His deep voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you blink several times before looking over at him.

“No, come with me, please? I-I want you there.” Austin nods his head and exits the car, coming over to the passenger side and helping you out of the car as you hold onto your brother’s bouquet.

Grass crunches under your shoes as you walk the few feet to your brother’s grave, and a soft gasp passes through your lips as you come face to face with the headstone that’s seared itself into your mind forever.

Kneeling down, you brush off the small bits of leaves and grass that’ve taken residence on the light gray stone. Your fingers trace over the letters imprinted within it and with each passing letter you feel your heart squeeze inside your chest.

It’s so unfair how life can change so drastically in an instant. You remember the last conversation you had with your brother and you wish you would’ve known that would be the last time you spoke to him. You would’ve said more, would’ve memorized more about his voice and the way he laughed. You would’ve held on to anything and everything you could if it meant keeping even one more tiny thing of him close to you.

Lifting up the bouquet in front of you, you make sure everything in it looks perfect before placing it by the headstone and then standing back up by your boyfriend. The flowers look beautiful and you hate that you can’t physically give them to your brother on his special day. You just hope he’s somewhere looking down at you and seeing how loved he still is. How he’ll always be celebrated.

Suddenly, you feel Austin softly place his hand on your lower back and begin to rub circles on it. This is something he often does when he can tell you’re sad or getting overwhelmed and just need some sort of comfort. It always helps calm you down and you appreciate Austin doing it in this moment.

Austin truly cares so much for you and it blows your mind every single day how lucky you are to have someone like him in your life. Everything from the grand gestures to the smallest little things he does for you, you find yourself being so grateful for it all. He’s such a wonderful guy and you smile thinking about how well he would’ve gotten along with your brother.

You know instantly your brother would’ve adored him. He’d definitely try to play the protective brother card and give off the impression he’d never approve, but in your heart you know Austin would’ve had him wrapped around his finger, much like how he has you. You could see them hanging out and watching sports together, talking about music and films, and overall finding such a genuine friendship within each other.

The thought brings a smile to your face and you let out a small laugh thinking about all the chaos they’d get up to together.

Austin notices and his own curious smile adorns his lips as he wonders what you could possibly be thinking about. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I know you never got to meet him,” you start, a small tear trailing down your cheek as you take your eyes off the headstone in front of you and look towards your boyfriend. “But he’d really like you.”

A small puff of air leaves Austin as he takes in your words. In an instant he has you wrapped in his arms and his lips pressed against your forehead. “Oh, baby. I wish with all my heart I could’ve met him.”

You nod your head silently against him, knowing with everything you’ve got that he genuinely means it.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Aus,” you whisper, your words a soft rumble against the blonde’s chest. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I appreciate it so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me, but you’re welcome. I’d do practically anything for you—especially this—and especially today.”

You know Austin’s unfortunately no stranger to grief. He knows the pain of losing a loved one just as much as you do and you think it’s so kind of him to do all of this with you when you know it probably puts him back in his own memories of loss. The thought alone makes you squeeze him a little harder and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Austin.”

“I love you too,” he smiles. “Y’know if you wanna do this every year for your brother’s birthday, we definitely can. If you want to, that is. I know it’ll never change the fact he’s no longer with us, but maybe celebrating him like this and coming to leave some flowers at his grave every year can help you feel a little bit closer to him in a way.”

“Yeah, I’d really love that. I think he would too.” You smile up at your boyfriend and take in his thoughtful proposition. You’d love to come visit your brother’s grave like this for his birthday every year. Like Austin said, it’ll never change the fact he’s not here with you anymore, but at least it gives you something to hold onto. It gives you something to keep your brother just a little bit closer to you, and you’d do anything to make that happen.

“It’s a deal then,” Austin says before leaning down and kissing you on the forehead. After pulling away he crouches down and plants himself on the grass. “C’mon, no more birthday blues. Let’s sit for a while. I’d love for you to tell me more about your brother.”

Your heart soars at his interest. Most people would want to flee this situation. Get as far away from a place like this and ignore the fact someone’s passed on completely. Not Austin. He faces it head first. He knows it’s hard, but he also knows it can be healing to do and it can mean a lot to someone too. He can tell by the look on your face he’s made the right call, and he’s grateful he’s able to be here for you in whatever way you need him.

“Well, where do I begin?” You wonder as you sit down next to the blonde. You rack your brain and try to decide on what story or fun fact you should share first. God knows you have an endless supply of them tucked away in your memory. Some funny, some sad, and some downright disturbing in the best way possible.

You glance over at Austin, settling on one and as you go to start sharing one of your favorite memories of your brother, you watch as your boyfriend completely tunes in to whatever it is you’re about to say. Nothing else seems to matter in this moment to him and that alone makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let go.

Yeah, you think in your head, in a way speaking to your brother. You definitely would’ve liked him.

[utilitycaster]

I havent actively kept up with C3 in a bit, the god debates were exhausting to slog through, but I enjoy seeing the meta and commentary you make/reblog. I'm curious if you've got better informed opinion's on Orym's whole deal right now, cause from what I can gather he is still in the party and not really opposing anything going on?

Like before Braius came on, I thought he was a couple bad sessions away from abandoning the group and telling the Ashari what's up with them. Mostly because it seemed like he was actually serious about this not being a revenge quest and caring for global consecquences, but Predathos has been unleashed now and he's just? fine with that? I can't tell from second-hand info if its just like. denial and telling himself its the right thing to do, or if priorities have shifted, or something else entirely.

(Sending this ask in cause I saw that shorthaltjester post about how BH's is self-interested and Orym just doesn't seem to fit that with the profile of him I had)

Liam played it a few episodes ago as just being too exhausted to go against the party, to be honest. Which I think is fair; I think he realized that if he tried to stop the rest of the party they'd probably just say ok you can go and either he'd get killed if he attacked them, or be abandoned on the moon, or he'd break his second promise to Dorian's father to keep him safe, and nothing would be achieved.