#is it actually sad or did i think i wrote it well when in reality its shit

[finely-tuned-line]

RP:

PRIVATE TRANSMISSION

FTL: Echoes of a Paradox.

EP: Hello Finely-Tuned Line.

EP: Did you finally decide to drag yourself out of your cowardice?

FTL: No. I contact you for reasons much worse.

EP: Finely-Tuned Line, I know. You sent an emergency broadcast, of course I know. But what do I, insignificant little Echoes of a Paradox, have to do with your great plan to save the world?

EP: Like, come on. You don't reply to me for several cycles and only do so when it's advantageous for you.

EP: Alright. Why am I even surprised. What do you want?

FTL: ...

FTL: I promise I'll apologise after all this is over.

EP: Sure.

FTL: What information do you hold about Songs of the Negative Sunlight's current situation - if you hold any information at all.

EP: Of course you drag xim into your own mess

EP: I don't think I know more than you do, xi and I didn't talk much near the end.

FTL: Understood.

EP: Do send xim my well-wishes though.

FTL: If my assumptions are right, xi won't make it out, well-wishes or not.

EP: I know. I've figured it out too, y'know.

FTL: Right.

EP: I will hold you to that apology you promised.

FTL: Alright.

EP: Good luck.

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ skz and the reason you aren't together !

�� 𖹭 . genre: angst

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: i loveee me some angst so i hope you'll enjoy! <3 seungmin's part is slightly longer because i wrote it for my beloved keisy @starlostseungmin <3

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - he chose work over pursuing his feelings for you.

He knows how you feel about him, and you know how he feels about you. Things couldn’t be simpler.

But in reality, things were more complicated than ever. Yes, Chan did in fact confess, but with the same breath he also told you this could never go any further.

You were devastated, confused and sad, not understanding what was going on through that bright mind of his.

You liked each other, you both wanted this – so, what was the issue?

It wasn’t you, it could never be. It was him, as always.

He was too busy, his job too demanding to leave any room for you and the precious feelings you’ve developed for him.

Chan felt like he didn’t deserve your love, because he could never be there for you in the way you needed a boyfriend to be.

He could never be there every morning when you woke up, kiss you goodbye each time you left the house or greet you with a big hug when you returned. He just couldn’t, too caught up in work to even notice the hours tick by.

You didn’t deserve an absent lover, one that could not put you first.

No matter how much he cared, how much his whole being longed for you, his job would always be his main priority. Then, his seven brothers. While you, would end up being third on his list.

It pained him to admit it, and even more so admit it to you but since he respected you so much, you deserved nothing but the truth.

This information crushed you, every word that left his mouth a stone that contributed to the mountain you were quickly getting buried under.

“But I love you.”

He shook his head, brown curls getting into glossy eyes. “I love you too, but we – I, can’t.”

At the end, just as you were preparing to depart his studio, he stood up. Without thinking, you hugged tightly, aware this would be the last time before things would change forever.

“Please don’t be sad because of me.”

How could you not? How did he expect you to not mourn the beautiful relationship you could have had, if only he wasn’t so against it?

If only he would have chosen you.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - because he broke up with you.

Yeah, pro idol Minho ended your relationship on a random Thursday night, taking everyone but most importantly you, by complete surprise.

“Let’s break up.”

You can’t believe your ears, especially since you’re in his house, eating the food he just prepared for the both of you, in his kitchen while wearing one of his shirts.

Nothing was amiss, nothing even prompted it. Things have been going great in your relationship – there was no recent argument or disagreement that could explain his sudden decision.

Blames it on his work and his hectic schedule, trying to appear as detached and unaffected as he possibly could. But you know better; you see it all.

The way his fist clenches over the dish rag, how his eyes won’t meet yours even for a split second. This isn’t something he wants to do, not in the slightest. Yet, here he is, breaking both of your hearts for a reason he doesn’t even bother revealing.

It stings in the worst way possible, even more so when you stand up to hug him and he just puts a hand up, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please, Y/n. Don’t make this harder for me.”

Tears well up in your eyes and that’s when he looks away, slumping against the counter as a sniff reaches his ears. He’s gripping the wood with such force you’re afraid it might actually snap.

“Why are you doing this? What’s going on?”

But Minho doesn’t respond, not even as you start crying and begging him to talk to you, to tear down the wall he suddenly plopped right between you two in your relationship.

He’s so close, mere inches away, but his heart that belonged to you, that always responded to yours, is suddenly grabbed harshly out of your hands and shipped away to an unknown destination.

“Minho.” You sniff, not hiding your tears or the pain that’s slowly ripping your heart to pieces and letting them fall all the way down to your stomach, trying to escape from the torture. Because even the idea of not having him in your life was pure torture.

“I think you should go.”

He walks past you, head hung low as he throws the dish rag on the table without saying anything else, putting an end to the conversation. An end to your relationship. Throwing it all away like the time spent together meant absolutely nothing to him.

Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

But it wasn’t, not like he’d ever let see you the way he broke down as you slammed the front door shut, walking out of his life for good. Even if you didn’t agree, it was better this way.

Your life was better, and happier, without him in it. That’s what he kept murmuring to himself as he slid to the ground, against his bedroom door, crying while clutching his chest, afraid his heart might stop beating.

It was all for the better.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - is already in a relationship.

The most stupid thing you can ever do in this lifetime is fall in love with someone who’s already in love with another.

Not only is he in love, he’s also in relationship that’s been going on for three beautiful years.

The thing is, you haven’t always had feelings for Changbin.

It was weird, really. For the longest time now, he was just your bubbly co-worker who laughed so loud the whole department could hear him. The mood maker of the company.

It happened on the annual Christmas party, where you drunk a little too much as you were nursing a broken heart after your ex dumped you out of the blue.

The whole world was spinning but you were happy – happier than you’ve been in months.

Noticing you could barely stand, Changbin ever the gentleman, offered to drive you home.

You complained and complained but after some more convincing from him, Changbin managed to coax you onto the passenger seat of his sports car.

You were silent the whole ride but as he parked on your driveway, he gasped, worriedly grasping your hands and exclaiming about the tears on your cheeks. You didn’t even notice you were crying.

But that’s when the dam broke and it all came to the surface, tears flowing freely down your face and neck as you sobbed, telling Changbin everything from beginning to end.

And he listened, holding your hands and nodding when appropriate, offering you the occasional sip of water or a tissue to wipe your face, not interrupting once.

His heart broke for you, unaware his mere presence was already working on mending yours.

The next morning, you almost didn’t show up to work as you remembered everything, how you made a fool out of yourself in front of everyone but especially Changbin. But something pushed you to do so.

As you arrived, a care basket was on your desk, accompanied by a little note with a crooked smiley face and then, he appeared, doing the exact same expression.

And you laughed, wholeheartedly. And you continued to do so as you began taking your lunch breaks together, working side by side and even taking turns on driving the other home.

Falling for him was inevitable, but you didn’t mind, all warm and fuzzy on the inside as the heart your ex broke was anew.

That is, until you met her. You and Changbin became so close that he couldn’t help but want to introduce you to his other half, the woman who loved him unconditionally that knew a little too much about you.

And just like that, your heart shattered once again, the pieces so tiny they were easily blown away in the wind, leaving behind a big whole were all of your love once resided. How could you be so stupid to believe someone could ever love you again?

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - you found out he was in love with someone else.

Plain and simple, as heartbreaking as it sounds.

Let me paint this picture: you two are best friends, each other’s safe places. You always talk about everything and anything with one another, feeling comfortable to share even your darkest secrets.

Because of that, you genuinely thought he might even reciprocate your feelings at some point.

But one day, as you’re both hanging out at your house, watching a movie, all of the hope and daydreams you held in your heart for a happy ending with him just get crushed.

He suddenly dumps this new information on you while he’s casually munching on some popcorn, watching the couple on the screen confess their love for each other like your heart didn’t just stop beating.

You’re so taken aback that you stop breathing for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes.

For some strange reason, Hyunjin doesn’t meet your gaze even as it goes silent between you two and your eyes keep burning holes into the side of his head.

Only when you finally tear your gaze away, eyes glossy as you try to murmur encouraging words does he finally turn to you.

His breath hitches in his throat at the sight but other than that, he doesn’t comment on it.

The whole ordeal feels like a slap in the face, hurting more than any physical injury you’ve ever sustained but, it’s not like you could blame anyone but yourself for it. You’ve missed your chance and now, Hyunjin was going to be in a happy relationship with someone else.

So, as expected from any best friend put in that situation, you say through gritted teeth.

“You should confess.”

Hyunjin searches your face for any sign of discomfort and finds many – but, as expected, doesn’t say anything, just looks away and nods slowly. Like he just can’t maintain eye contact for more than five seconds at a time.

And that’s the end of it. The whole vibe changes, now uncomfortable and cold and it’s clear that neither of you is paying any attention to the movie anymore.

But he still remains till the end, and when the credits start rolling, you stand up first and bid him goodnight without your usual warm smile or departing embrace before sprinting up the stairs to your room.

His heart squeezes painfully in his chest as your door slams shut, the tears in your eyes bringing him unexplainable sorrow.

And as he leaves your apartment that night, down in the dumps, you know things between you have changed forever.

Because that’s the last time you and Hyunjin talk.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - he hasn’t confessed yet.

Jisung has liked you for a while now but for some reason, every time he wanted to take that leap of faith and finally confess, something always came up.

You were interrupted, plans had to be cancelled or you were simply too busy to even talk to each other.

It was driving him insane, especially when he’d spot you at an event surrounded by people he felt he couldn’t push through, missing his chance at your attention every time.

He felt forced to watch you from the sidelines, a background character in your life that would never get his moment to shine.

You were friends, but he often felt he cared about you more than you cared about him and it was tearing him apart.

Each time you smiled or laughed at one of his jokes, everything around him disappeared as time seemed to come to a stop, making you look even more beautiful. Which was a hard thing to do since you were already perfect in his eyes.

His insecurities and crippling fear of rejection were literally ruining his life, preventing him from experiencing the love story he’s been yearning for.

Jisung was good at hiding his feelings from you, but sometimes, he slipped up.

Like that time, he held your waist for a little too long, or guided your hands over the piano keys like it was the most natural thing in the world. Those moments when he wasn’t overly conscious, when he got lost in the moment, were your favorite.

You see, in his mission to prevent you from discovering how insanely in love he was with you, Jisung managed to make you believe the opposite. That he hated you. Okay, maybe not hate, just strongly dislike.

Always avoiding being left alone with you, barely meeting your eyes or pulling away when you got a little too close. He seemed repulsed, and it hurt you.

Where you really that unpleasant in his eyes?

He was nice and bubbly around everyone else, no matter the gender. Why couldn’t he be the same Jisung whose smile made your heart skip several beats around you, too?

This went on for a long while, which solidified the idea he hated you in your head, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

One day, Jisung almost walked in on you and Felix…hugging on the practice room floor? His heart dropped, brows furrowing in confusion. Felix knew how he felt about you, he would never disregard that, right?

Everything clicked when he heard your muffled sobs and pained voice.

“I give up, Felix.” You said, hiding your face in his chest as a loud sob escaped you. “Jisung hates me, it’s official! I tried so, so hard but it was no use.” Felix murmured something back, deep voice uncharacteristically soft as he comforted you, caressing your back.

Jisung couldn’t hear what he said though, eyes filling with tears as the only thing resonating in his ears was the pounding of his own heart. You thought…he hated you?

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - because your relationship is too…complicated at the moment.

Complicated didn’t even begin to describe your relationship with the ray of sunshine.

He was your ex that somehow slithered his way back into your life again, only this time, as a friend. Not even, just an acquaintance that knew too many of your secrets and biggest aspirations.

There was no denying the feelings you still harbored for him, the flame flickering in your heart each time he was around; each time he spoke, he smiled, he laughed or even as much as looked at you, your heart thumped so loudly in your chest you were afraid he was able to hear it.

It was embarrassing, especially since he didn’t seem as affected.

Your relationship ended on a sour note – arguing, screaming, crying, the whole package.

Yet a few months later, when you happened to be at the same party, Felix accompanied by a friend walked up to you like nothing even happened, greeting you brightly.

It was horrible, and you almost cried right there and then, missing the way his doe eyes took in all of the little details that changed about you ever since you broke up, desperately committing them to memory.

Like he never wanted to forget, because he didn’t. Felix never wanted to forget about you, even if you didn’t love him anymore.

And so, this happened a few more times until the inevitable took place.

You kissed. And never spoke about it.

And then you kissed again, and again, until he was coming over to your house in the middle of the night to do more than kiss.

It messed with your head, the way he was looking at you – like you hung the stars on the night sky for him and him alone. Like he loved you and wasn’t breaking your heart each time those plush lips kissed every inch of your skin, worshipping every part of your body.

“Why do you keep coming back?” You’d whisper one night, resting your head on his naked chest as the moon bare witness to your unspoken feelings.

“You keep calling.”

“And when I’ll stop,” you move to look at him, face mere inches away from his, hands supporting your weight on his chest, “will you still come?”

He hesitates, staring straight into your eyes. “Most likely, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Yeah…complicated.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - because he is your best friend.

For most, the transition from best friends to lovers was as natural as breathing, something inevitable that was bound to happen one way or the other. Not for Seungmin.

He didn’t even allow his mind to go down that road, to think about being more than friends with you, one of the people he held the closest to his heart.

Not because he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, but because he was afraid.

Yes, he was afraid that once that line was crossed, the one that kept you firmly in place in the beautiful friendship that only blossomed and became very special over the years, it would all disappear.

Things would change and shift, which would bring forth your downfall.

In his eyes, the risk of fighting and breaking up was too big for him to even consider taking your relationship to the next level. He didn’t want to lose you, never.

But what he failed to take into account was that you would not stay single forever.

That’s why, the moment you skipped over to him and squealed about having a date, his heart almost stopped beating.

His world was spinning, like an earthquake started in his head which was quickly crumbling down every single wall and boundary, and rational decision he ever made over the years.

“You…have a date?” He gulped, ignoring the alarms going off in his head that were deafening him. “With who?”

“This guy from work.” You shrugged, excitement dimming as your gaze met his, serious. “He isn’t the one I like, but I guess it will have to do for now.”

Seungmin wasn’t stupid but his heart understood your allusion before his mind did, thumping loudly and stealing his breath away.

You were talking about him. You were going out with another guy but were thinking about him – he was the one you liked!

Still, he didn’t vocalize a response, choosing to nod and pat you on the back gently, staring at anything else other than the disappointment that overwhelmed your whole frame, making you appear oh so small.

The day of your date arrived sooner than he’d like, and Seungmin was miserable, especially since you texted him the location ‘just in case’.

Usually, he was more than happy to know where you were, safe and sound, but this time he would have preferred you didn’t let him know you were with another guy at the restaurant you frequented together.

Hours passed, and night was making its presence known, but still no sign from you. Was he worried? No. Because for once, you staying out meant the date was a success and you were having the time of your life with this guy that wasn’t him.

That’s until, a mere half an hour later, loud knocking had him off the couch in a second, opening the door to find you frowning, and with tears in your eyes. Opening his mouth to speak, shocked, thinking something had happened on the date, your finger hitting his chest stopped him.

“Why didn’t you come?” You sniffed. “I thought going out with someone else would finally prompt you to admit that what we have is more than a simple friendship! Do you hate me that much?”

He was speechless, grabbing you by the elbows as you barged in, tears streaming down your face.

“Answer me, Kim Seungmin!” Well, he was fucked.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - isn’t sure what he feels for you yet.

Or better yet, his commitment issues prevented him from admitting to any feelings he might have.

See, you weren’t just friends. You were a little more than that, spending most of your free time together going to cute cafes and what would be considered dates, acting all lovey dovey.

That is, when you weren’t spending the weekend bound to his bed. That wasn’t fair, sometimes he was the one tied up. A very mutual arrangement.

Jeongin managed to drag you into a situationship you were now too deep into to break off, having developed actual feelings.

But each time you tried to speak to him about said feelings, he’d close off quicker than a frightened snail, impossible to reach.

After each one of these occasions, he wouldn’t contact you for days on end, sometimes even weeks, leaving you wondering if he’d ever come back.

He always did, he couldn’t stay away from you no matter how much he tried.

Even if he messed with other people in that time, he’d still make his way back to you, smiling like nothing even happened and ready to give you all of his attention and affection again.

It was exhausting, and very, very painful.

But you still welcomed him back with open arms, too happy to see him to even care that each time he appeared in your life again, you were not the same.

Every time he disappeared and you didn’t say anything, a piece of your heart was ripped off harshly, stomped on and then thrown in the trash, devoid of any color or life. Like an old toy, forgotten in favor of a new, shiny one.

But Jeongin didn’t care. It’s not like he could be bothered to pick up your scattered pieces – they didn’t interest him, you did.

Not like he ever noticed the light in your eyes dimming each time he stormed back into your life after pretending you didn’t exist for weeks.

To be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever be together.

Not now, or in the future.

No matter how much you hated to admit it, the facts were neatly laid out before you – Jeonging didn’t care about you at all, no matter how sweet, loving or good you were to him.

He thought you couldn’t notice, that your love for him was too blinding for you to see anything else other than him.

But you did. And he also did when one day, for the first time since he met you, as he stumbled out of a bar, giddy and tipsy with his phone to his ear ready to hear your sweet voice, his call didn’t go through.

[katiemccabeswife]

Awkward Conversations Outfits

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader || Alexia overhears a conversation and assumes the worst, leading to a confusing and awkward conversation.

she wrote something! i apologise for the lack of fics but i don't want to give you guys some half-assed writing that i'm not proud of, and i haven't written anything anywhere near my own standards lately (not that i've been able to finish anything) so i hope you enjoy this and that i can get back into the grove of writing and give yous some more fics x

"And then once I think I've figured it out, I second guess myself and think it's too ugly and that I'm going to be judged and then when I look around, there's just clothes everywhere and all I wanna do is out on my frumpiest sweats and cry into my pillow! I don't understand how you guys do it!" Alexia was stunned to hear you rant so freely about a subject she had never heard you utter a word about.

She walked through the door halting your conversation, "Hola, chicas!" She announced herself and watched you slump back into your chair while Ingrid and Frido shared a glance.

"Hola, Ale," You grumbled out, disheartened.

Ingrid struck up a new conversation between the four of you as the rest of the team began to trickle into the changing room. Alexia remained silent though, trying to come up with a reason as to why you wouldn't come to her about this sort of thing, why it had to be Ingrid and Frido you chose to confide in. While it would definitely be an awkward conversation, Alexia would be more than happy to have that sort of talk with you. After taking you in at a young age, you had both bonded so well your relationship resembled that of mother and daughter.

You noticed Alexia seemed to be a little distanced and quiet so you made a move to check in on her when the team started to head out to the pitch, "Hola, Ale," You greeted, wrapping your arms around her and pressing your cheek to hers.

Her arms came to hold yours but she moved her cheek away from yours to lay a quick peck to it, "Hola, bebé, everything ok?" She rested her cheek on yours once again, relishing in the closeness and comfort it provided.

Your brows furrowed slightly, "Of course, I actually came to check on you," You giggled.

Alexia sighed as she saw this as you deflecting. She pulled away from you wholey before holding your face between her palms, "Well thank you for thinking of me, I'm fine, thank you," She pecked her lips against your forehead, filling your soul with warmth, "You know you can always talk to me, right? About anything. No judgement, sí?" She was looking deep into your eyes for any sign of sadness or lies.

All she could find was confusion, "Sí, you sure you're feeling alright?" You jokingly placed the back of your hand on her forehead.

Alexia responded by shoving your head in the opposite way, "Enough now," The lightness in her tone assured you that she was only joking.

Training went on, as usual, you were paired with Keira for drills meaning that you never got the chance to speak directly to Alexia until you were heading out to her car. You spent the drive home with a furrow in your brow uncanny to the one that rested on Alexia’s face as the older woman remained quiet and seemed lost in thought.

Once you arrived home Alexia haphazardly threw the keys onto the kitchen counter before turning to you who stood awkwardly between her and your bedroom, “You can go shower, Cari, dinner should be ready in an hour,” The small, tight smile she wore forced you to reciprocate but filled your mind with anxiety and guilt that came from an unknown source.

After showering, unpacking and repacking your training bag you shuffled out to the living room stiffly to find Alexia resting on the couch, watching some trashy reality tv. Her head raised from its slumped position, “Hola, Princesa,” She tapped the seat next to her, signalling you to join her which you did instantly.

She wrapped her arms around you and ran her hands through your freshly washed hair, “Are you sure you are feeling alright?” She spoke softly but her tone was heavy with concern.

You shrugged your shoulders, admitting defeat, “I feel like you’re upset with me,” You mumbled into her chest, limbs tense and eyes trained on the tv.

You lowered your head as Alexia manoeuvred the two of you so you were facing one another, “Why would you think that?” She lifted your chin with her fingers.

“You just seem…off, and I can’t help but think that I had something to do with it because you seemed fine in training laughing with ‘Tana and stuff.” You unknowingly jutted out your bottom lip, reminding Alexia of your youth.

She shuffled apprehensively in her seat, “It’s just that I accidentally heard your conversation with Ingrid and Frido and felt a little upset you didn’t come to me about it,” She was shy to admit she had basically eavesdropped on your very private conversation.

“Oh,” Alexia was too busy looking everywhere but your eyes to notice the relief in your tone.

“So,” She shrugged now feeling awkward and uncomfortable, “Is there anything you want to ask me?”

“I guess just how you manage to feel sure of yourself and confident with whatever you’re wearing?” Alexia’s eyes bulged out of their sockets and her mind began to run 100 miles per minute.

She turned pink at the question, her reaction throwing you off significantly, “Wearing!? I didn’t think you- I thought-” She was stumbling over her words and by now you were in a state of total confusion. She managed to get herself together and forced out a string of advice, “Well, everyone looks different but everyone is beautiful and there is no one way to look and if you are truly scared your partner is going to judge you, you shouldn’t be with them, let alone trust them with your body,” She had you in the first half but your brain completely melted by the second.

You cut her off instantly, “Ale, what are you talking about? That whole conversation was about how I never know what to wear before games and going out to dinners, stuff like that. I was frustrated with how you, Ingrid, Frido and the whole team to be fair, always look so cool and confident. What are you thinking it was about?”

“¡Oh, gracias a Dios!” She looked to the ceiling as she fell against the back of the couch, “I thought it was a whole other conversation about something way more uncomfortable,” She laughed to herself.

“Oh, Ale! Gross!” You whacked her while joining in on her laughter.

She took a deep breath before continuing, “You just have to own what you’re wearing, you are gorgeous and will look good in anything! Trust me,” She emphasised when she saw you roll your eyes, “How about after dinner, we go look in your closet and pick out some outfits so this weekend you have options for before the game? Sí?” 

You nodded with a smile on your face, “Gracias, Ale,” You moved over to her and she wrapped you in her arms, laying a kiss on your temple. You stilled for a moment before taking a deep breath, “I think dinner is burning,” You said calmly.

Alexia hummed before taking in what you said, “¿Qué?” She yelled and pulled away, running to the kitchen as you doubled over with laughter.

[kittyhui]

exes to lovers! seungcheol x reader

!!MDNI!!

[seungcheol ended your five year long relationship seemingly out of nowhere, leaving you heartbroken. two years after your breakup, you release your solo album, song written about the heartbreak you felt. now, seungcheol is trying to get your love back]

cw: idol x idol, angst w/ comfort, semi public sex, not grammar checked well😭

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I think we should break up” is all Seungcheol says to you, sad in his eyes.

He walks out of your apartment, not staying to listen to your cries and pleads, asking for an explanation on why he was so suddenly doing this. He was a completely different person from the last time you saw him; his love-filled eyes replaced with cold and sad ones.

You tried to contact him multiple times after that; calls and messages never answered, leaving you and your heart shattered, your members having to pick up the pieces. A five year old relationship gone in a flash, without a reason, without even a thought of why. Did i do something wrong? Did he grow tired? Was there.. someone else? The situation hurt you so badly, that even fans could tell something was wrong. Your relationship was a secret from fans and from your company, save from the members. Your performance during promotions were off and it took you almost a full year to get back on your game, taking a hiatus at one time because it was just so bad. but you were feeling better now. It’s now past your two year breakup anniversary, and though you think about the good times of your old relationship, you weren’t consumed with grief anymore. You felt much better, better than ever. Better enough to release your first solo album, songs written from that time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[interviewer] So, What was the thought process behind this album?

[Y/N] All these songs are a part of a giant collection of songs while i was going through a lot of feelings haha. Most of these were my inner thoughts and feelings that I couldn't express to anyone else so I wrote them out. they’ve only now came out because I was finally confident in myself and these songs after years and my members helped build my courage to share them with you all.

[Interviewer] I’m happy that you were finally able to overcome your fears with your songs.

[Y/N] Thank you so much

[Interviewer] Do you think you could go more in depth about the song meanings?

[Y/n] Yea, of course. The first song on the album can be interpreted in multiple ways in my opinion. When I wrote this, I was thinking about someone I loved truly. I wrote this wishing that the way they ended it could’ve been that we just fell out of love. I wanted us to be tired of each other, to just want it to be over and so I wrote this point of view wishing this was the reality, even though I knew how much I still loved them. It’s very sad and kinda pathetic but yea haha.

For the second track, I wrote this because in this same relationship, the way we broke up was so rushed and I was not ready for it. I felt like they didn’t even feel anything towards me anymore and it broke me down so much. By the end of the song, I kinda accept it as the end and try to let them go.

Ah~ This third track was actually wrote when i was first in that relationship. We were both falling hard and fast and I had to let it out in a way. I can’t really explain more.

[Interviewer] And lastly, the fully english track?

[Y/N] This one really talks about how even if I’ll be in another relationship in the future, I’ll only think about and try to find them in the other person. I wrote this the latest out of all of them. I knew I was still in love with this person even though it’s been years since the breakup but I know I’ll always see them as my first and only love even if they don’t see me the same way.

[Interviewer] These are all truly beautiful songs

[Y/N] Thank you

[Interviewer] We just have a few more questions before we say goodbye today. Firstly, You said these songs were in a collection of other songs, will you release the rest of them as well?

[Y/N] Maybe, I’m surprised I got away making this album so hopefully I can push my companies limits a tad more.

[Interviewer] Next question, This relationship you sing about seemed really intense. Was it a long one?

[Y/N] Yea, It dont think I can go into too many details but it was a pretty serious relationship. When it ended, I took it very hard. I liked them for a long time before too so it was rough haha

[Interviewer] Last question, Because you produce and write songs for your group, Have you ever wrote about this relationship in those songs?

[Y/N] Honestly I couldn’t tell you. I try not to because I’m still not the best about this relationship I was in but it’s probably slipped in a few songs unfortunately haha

[Interviewer] Thank you so much for coming onto my show today!

[Y/N] I’m honored to be asked here for an interview, thank you. I’d also like to say thank you to my fans and anyone else who is listening in! Please enjoy my new album!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Needless to say, your interview was seen by alot of people. Neitzens have been picking it apart since it came out, speculating on the mystery person you were talking about. Your fans were both happy for you and angry for you; ready to fight the person who broke your heart. Though the publicity was great for your album sales and streams, the constant news was really tiring now, especially now that you were promoting at music shows. Music shows that your ex, S.Coups of Seventeen, was also promoting at with his group. Singing a song about your heartbreak in the same place of the person who hurt you so bad, was awkward to say the least. The waiting room of the music show was the worst. passing by him and his group makes your heart pound. His eyes follow you when you pass by each other. you try not to meet his eyes. Your heart just couldn’t handle it. Your still wanted him yet you hated him at the same time. You wanted to kiss him again but also wanted to hit him. The last conversation you both had together was him breaking up with you. He hurt you so badly yet you yearned for him.

So when he approached you before your performance, you felt conflicted.

“Y/n?” The familiar voice fills your ears and you look up at the man standing infront of your sitting figure.

“Seungcheol? What are you doing” You didn’t actually think he would speak to you again, but here he was.

“Can we- can we talk?” He pauses, licking his lips nervously “I know you probably never want to speak to me ever again but I just want a second of your time.”

“You really have horrible timing. I going on stage in a few minutes. Please don’t do this now. You had two years to talk about this,” You look away from his, glancing to the side “We can talk.. after the music show is over. Don’t expect too much, though” You stand and walk to the stairs of the stage and he sighs, agreeing to meet later on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The music show ends entirely too quickly for your liking, leg bouncing nervously in your dressing room and when you hear a knock at the door you know it’s Seungcheol. You open the door, the man in front of you quickly walking in and closing the door again.

“Y/n..” He sighs

“Seungcheol,” You try to sound disinterested but inside you just want to hug him. “Please just say what you have to say”

“I just want to say I’m so sorry for the way I ended things. I know I hurt you beyond belief and it hurts that I hurt you. I watched your interview and.. god.. I care about you so much.. I never wanted to break up with you but I had to..” His eyes brim with tears and he lets out a haggard breath.

“Then why did you? Five years, Seungcheol. I loved you for five years, hell, I still love you after what you did, but, just why? I felt like I wasted all those years for nothing. I want to marry you… I wanted to have everything with you.. You were my first everything and you hurt me like I was nothing..” You were choking on your tears at this point, the salty liquid pooling in you lips “You were more than just a boyfriend to me, Seungcheol. You were the love of my life.”

“Y/n.. I.. I didn’t break up because I wanted to.. your company found out.. they threatened your career if I didn’t break up with you.. I tried to convince them to let us be, but they were persistent and my company was pressuring me as well.. I shouldve fought for you more.. I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you what was happening but… I was a coward. I never stopped loving you, y/n.. You’re the love of my life too. I had every intention of being with you until the day I died, and I want to fight for you now even though I didn’t before.”

The shock of what he said lingers in your mind. You look at him without saying anything. He sat down next to you, letting you process his words. After some time you finally spoke.

“I dont know what to say,” You start “I believe you even though that means my company did this too me but.. I dont know. I want to forgive you. I want you, Cheol. I want you to be in my life again. but it took me so long to recover from this. I dont know if we’ll ever be what we were before,” He looks down at his feet in defeat “But we can try..” He looks up at you again, eyes brightening.

He finally smiles, “You dont understand how badly I missed you…” He hugs you tightly before looking into your eyes and then looking down at your lips “can I..” You nod slowly, waiting for his lips to touch yours.

He kisses your lips with hunger, holding on to you for fear you might run away “Missed you.. Misses your touch.. ‘m so sorry, my love” He pushes you flat on the couch you were sitting on, kissing you face and neck with desire. He missed this so much. “I love you, baby. Please let me make you feel good.. Love you..” You whine at his words, hips grinding up at his.

“l-love you too, Cheolie.. Please.. Need you so bad” Your hands move up and down his clothed back. “Please..missed you too” He kisses you quickly, breaking away to remove the both of your clothes.

“Just a gorgeous as I remember,” He mutters under his breath. You can feel his hard member on your stomach, moaning at the anticipation of having him after so long. “Need to be inside you so bad, baby”

“mhm please, cheolie..“ You pull him closer, begging him to do anything.

“shhh, ill take care of you, baby.” he coos at you, finally pushing in, “shit- so tight.. you feel so good baby” he brushes the hairs out of your face, kissing your forehead gently. “So good for me, my love”

“Please move- Please I need it. Cheolie- Needed this so bad” You sob as he finally starts to roll his hips into yours, groans falling from his mouth.

“God- y-you’re too good, baby. Am I making you feel good, hm?” He fucks into you faster, rougher, breathlessly calling out your name into your ear.

“yes yes makin’ me feel so good- gonna cum soon” You hips rut into his, determined to make both of you cum.

“b-baby” He pushes your hips back into the couch, “Be good- i’ll let you cum, promise…” He breathes out hot breath, eyes blown wide as he pounds into you; your heat sucking him in dangerously. “Cum for me please, need you to cum, baby.”

Your desperation for each other was unmatched and you were sure that the people walking past your dressing room can hear the obscene noises coming from it, but you could care less. The pleads for more came out if your mouth like a ritual and Seungcheol knew you were close. One of his hands grip your own, telling you to cum, and what else can you do when his cock twitches inside of you so deliciously. You cry out his name once more before cumming hard. Feeling you pulse around him, he fills you up with spurts of his hot cum in you. “Fuck, did you so good, my love. I love you so much” He breathes out, pecking your lips once again.

You look into his eyes, dazed, and welling with tears again. His happy demeanor changes ones again. “Hey. Hey, Y/n. What’s wrong? Did i do something?” He looks you up and down, checking for injuries. Making sure he didn’t fuck this up again.

“No- i just- i just missed you so much, Cheolie,” you cry out. “Love you so much..” His arms are around you before you can even say another word. He murmurs I love you’s into your ears, kissing the tears rolling down your face.

“I love you too, baby. let’s go home hm?”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: these are the songs i used as reference for the solo album songs:

1. Can’t Love You Anymore - IU

2. Goodbye - OOHYO

3. Fallin’ - Yoon Hyun Sang

4. Glimpse of Us - Joji

this was so spur of the moment #loveit

[finelinefae]

my darling

synopsis: a love triangle

word count: 10.8k

contains: angst angst angst, love triangle, mfm, best friends to lovers, boarding school, violence, unrequited love,

a/n: i wrote this for wattpad during the My Policeman era. I wanted to post it here after re-reading it. I remember this being one of the first pieces of fanfic i felt super proud of !! warning it is pretty sad

. . .

Then — 1996

Dear Diary,

Today we moved into our new home in Halton. It’s small, quaint, and quiet—very quiet. The kind of place where everyone seems set in their routines, the same patterns repeating every day. I already miss London. Mum says this will be good for us, though. Good to get away from the drama. Good to get away from Dad.

The house isn’t as big as our old one. I have to share a room with Delilah now, but it’s fine—I’ll be off to boarding school by the end of the summer. Mum says I’ll enjoy it since she went to the same school at my age, but I think she’s just trying to make me feel better. Who actually enjoys living at school?

It’s a three-hour drive from Halton, which feels like a world away. I’m nervous, excited, sad, and happy all at once. The feelings are so overwhelming they all blur together into something I can only describe as... heavy. Like my life is a snow globe someone’s just shaken up, glitter falling everywhere. It looks magical at first, but the reality is you’re stuck cleaning it up for weeks, finding it in the oddest places long after.

I miss my dog. I never got to say goodbye.

Dad cried when we left. I’ve never seen him cry before. He told me it wasn’t goodbye, just a "see you later." Mum always says Dad’s a good liar, but I don’t think he was lying this time. Maybe it was the tears—they don’t suit him.

-

Dear Diary,

Today I moved into my dorm at Southend Park School.

Mum was annoyed we had to wake up before seven to pack the car and drive me down, even though this was all her idea. She’s probably just tired—or maybe something else. I have a suspicion she’s met someone. I’m not sure how she moved on from Dad so quickly. Did she ever really love him?

My dorm has six girls, including me. I’ve mostly been talking to Ellis, who’s in the room next door. She’s fourteen, older than the rest of us, but only because her birthday is the 1st of September. Today’s the third, so her advantage is technical, but she likes to remind us.

Being alone here scares me, but it’s nothing new. Delilah always had loads of friends, and Dad was always working. Mum was usually out socializing, too.

Mum cried as we finished unpacking, promising she’d pick me up for half-term or that I could come home anytime. But I don’t want to go home. I hate it there.

Tomorrow is a full day of inductions, and I’m worried about making friends. Southend Park is a mixed school, and boys make me nervous. I’d rather have no friends at all than feel like I have to pretend to be someone I’m not.

I still feel like I’m picking up glitter from months ago. I wonder when it will finally stop.

-

Dear Diary,

I made two friends. You’ll never guess—they’re boys!

Their names are Harry and Dylan. They’re both thirteen, like me, but they feel older somehow. They even live in the same dorm and invited me over this weekend.

We met during lunch in the courtyard. I was sitting alone when Dylan walked up first, chatting easily and cracking jokes. Harry followed behind, much quieter. Dylan has blond hair and a small scar on his eyebrow from climbing trees back in Morston. Harry’s hair is thick and curly—I wanted to touch it but stopped myself because, well, that would’ve been weird.

Harry didn’t say much at first, though I noticed him glancing at me. When I met his gaze, he blushed and looked down at his extra-polished school shoes.

We didn’t talk much again until the end of the day, on the way back to the dorms. That’s when we compared timetables and realized we share four classes, including English Literature. It’s just Harry and me in that one, though.

I never thought I’d be friends with boys, but I like it. It feels different from being friends with girls—less pressure to act outgoing or girly. I hope we stay friends. I like them both a lot.

. . .

Then — 2000

“Hey, Harry,” Y/N called, running across the field toward the headmaster’s office where Harry stood, focused on his Nokia flip phone.

Harry glanced up, his expression softening when he saw her. He tucked the phone into his pocket and waved her over. Despite the end-of-day chaos, both were still dressed in their school uniforms. “Hey, baby.” He greeted her with a quick kiss, pulling her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. He loved how perfectly she fit against him, as though they were made for each other.

“What’s going on? Aren’t we meeting Dylan to go to Ellis’ dorm?” Y/N asked, frowning slightly as she looked around for their other best friend.

Harry smirked, shaking his head. “We are, but Dylan got caught passing notes to Casey Becker in geometry. He’s stuck with thirty minutes in the headmaster’s office to make amends.”

Y/N chuckled, her laugh warm and familiar. “Again? He’s going to get himself expelled if he’s not careful.” She slid her hands under Harry’s blazer, warming them against his torso.

Harry brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting his thumb linger on her cheekbone. “How was your day?” he murmured, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.

“It was fine,” Y/N replied. “I scored three points in netball, and Tessa Riley gave me daggers in the changing room.” She giggled, leaning into him.

Harry smiled, pride gleaming in his eyes. “That’s m’girl.” He bent down and kissed her forehead gently.

“Oh, please, don’t make me sick,” a familiar voice drawled, breaking the moment.

“Hi, Dylan.” Y/N turned to see him strolling down the stone steps, his blazer slung over his shoulder and a cigarette dangling between his fingers. She leaned back against Harry, crossing her arms.

“Hello, my darling Y/N,” Dylan teased, his tone playful as he lit the cigarette with practiced ease.

“Seriously, Dylan?” Harry said, narrowing his eyes. “Do you really need another detention?”

“Don’t you smoke, Styles?” Dylan shot back, grinning. “Besides, Mary would love to see me again after our chat earlier. She’s got a soft spot for me.” He smirked, wiping his thumb across the corner of his mouth.

Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping away from Harry’s warmth. She was long used to Dylan’s antics—four and a half years of friendship had left little room for surprises.

The three of them had been inseparable since their first days at Southend Park Boarding School. Despite their differences in personality, they were like a family unit, supporting one another through the highs and lows of adolescence.

Dylan, the loudest of the trio, was notorious for his sharp wit and knack for trouble. Teachers despaired over his behavior, but students were drawn to his charm—especially the girls, who fell for his rebellious streak and the ever-present cigarette.

Harry, by contrast, was the golden boy: smart, polite, and beloved by staff. He balanced his role as student ambassador with captaining the football team, a position that made him one of the most popular boys in school. Dylan teasingly called him a “teacher’s pet,” but Harry wore the label without shame.

Y/N was the quietest of the three, rarely seeking the spotlight. She volunteered in the school library every Tuesday and spent her free time with her dorm mates. Still, Harry and Dylan were fiercely protective of her, and she often marveled at how lucky she was to have them.

The trio walked out of the school gates toward the housing blocks, their shadows stretching long in the late afternoon sun. Harry carried Y/N’s backpack on one shoulder, his free hand clasping hers. Dylan trailed behind, typing on his phone with an unlit cigarette between his teeth.

“Ellis doesn’t want you bringing anything to the party this time, Dylan,” Y/N warned, glancing over her shoulder. “You know what happened last time. If you pull that again, you’re getting kicked out of school.”

“My darling Y/N,” Dylan began with exaggerated sincerity, pausing for effect, “only for you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile.

When they reached her dorm, Y/N kissed Harry on the cheek and took her bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you both later?” she asked, her eyes bright.

Dylan saluted her without looking up from his phone, while Harry smiled warmly. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, Harry,” she replied before disappearing inside.

Harry and Dylan walked in silence toward their dorm. The tension was palpable, Dylan unusually quiet as Harry’s mind churned with unspoken thoughts.

“We’re going to have to tell her at some point,” Dylan murmured, his voice low as the setting sun bathed the path in a golden glow.

Harry’s heart tightened. “No, we don’t.”

“Harry—”

“Shut up, Dylan. Nothing happened.” Harry’s voice was sharp, cutting Dylan off before he could continue.

They stopped, staring at each other, the air between them heavy. Harry’s frustration burned in his eyes, while Dylan’s sadness hung like a weight on his shoulders.

“I love her,” Harry finally said, his voice trembling. “I’ll never love anyone else as much as I love Y/N.”

Without another word, he turned and stormed into their dormitory, leaving Dylan alone on the pavement. Dylan exhaled shakily, the ache in his chest unbearable.

. . .

Then — 1998

Dear Diary,

It’s been a month since my fifteenth birthday, and Harry finally asked me out on a date. It feels like a dream, the kind where everything is so perfect you fear waking up to find it never happened.

To be honest, I think I’m already in love with him. He’s always been so kind to me, much more than Dylan. Harry carries my bag to class when I have netball, and sometimes, during English Literature, I catch him staring at me. There’s something about the way his gaze lingers that makes me feel seen.

In art class, he taught me how to use watercolors for the first time, his thumb brushing against mine as he guided me. Little moments like that remind me how much I care for him—so much that the thought of being without him feels unbearable. Is that dramatic? Probably. But I can’t help it if it’s true.

Even when I’m talking to Ellis during lunch or before bed, my mind wanders back to Harry—his smile, his eyes, the way he laughs at my jokes even when they aren’t funny, and how he hugs me differently from everyone else.

It feels strange to be fifteen and falling so deeply. What do I know about love at this age? How much further can I fall?

I think I’m going to love him forever. I hope he loves me forever too.

-

Dear Diary,

Harry kissed me today. My first kiss—with the boy I love most in the entire world.

I knew it was going to happen. We’d just finished dinner in the dining hall when he asked if I wanted to take a walk in the gardens. Dylan wanted to come along, but Harry shook his head, saying he wanted it to be just the two of us.

I felt a twinge of guilt when I looked back and saw Dylan standing there, his expression heavy as he watched us leave. He kept staring at Harry, even as we walked past the window overlooking the gardens.

Harry brought me to the tulips because he knows they’re my favorite. He said my braid looked pretty today, and that’s when I knew—I truly, completely loved him. It was the worst braid I’ve ever done, but he still thought it was beautiful.

We sat on a swinging bench, listening to birds returning to their nests. When he said my name, it sounded magical, like it had been made for his lips alone. I turned to look at him, and that’s when he leaned in and kissed me.

It felt like a scene from a movie.

No one ever tells you what it’s like to kiss someone for the first time. The way their breath mingles with yours, the world fading away as you close your eyes and step into a place so tender it consumes you. It makes you wonder if you’ve ever been truly loved before.

We only stopped because we heard a rustling in the bushes. We looked around but didn’t find anything, so Harry walked me back to my dorm. He kissed me again outside the door, and I floated through the rest of the night, humming to myself as I got ready for bed.

But when I think back to that moment, I could swear I saw a tuft of blond hair sticking out from behind a bush.

. . .

Now — 2000

Y/N sat cross-legged in front of the mirror on Ellis’ floor, carefully applying mascara as Fiona Apple played softly in the background. Ellis sat nearby, painting her nails a deep red.

“I’m just saying,” Ellis began, waving the brush for emphasis, “you and Harry have been dating for two years, and you haven’t done the deed yet?”

Y/N flushed at the mention of sex, shifting uncomfortably. She hated talking about it, even with Harry. Maybe it was because she didn’t know much about it or because she’d never had a safe space to ask questions, but every time the topic came up—whether in conversation or during truth or dare—she wanted to run for cover.

“We’re waiting for the right time,” Y/N said evenly, her voice robotic as she repeated the well-rehearsed answer.

“The right time?” Ellis scoffed. “I’ve never seen a couple more in love—it’s nauseating.”

Y/N hesitated, her mind drifting to moments when she’d wanted to take things further with Harry. But he always stopped before it went too far. Sometimes it made her feel like she wasn’t enough—pretty enough, desirable enough—but then he’d kiss her softly and remind her how beautiful she was, stroking her cheek as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’ve done... things, but not that.”

“Is Harry religious or something?” Ellis asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No, I don’t think so,” Y/N replied with a frown. “He’s never mentioned it.”

“Maybe he’s waiting until marriage,” Ellis mused.

The thought of marrying Harry made Y/N’s heart swell. She’d dreamed of it ever since their first kiss in the gardens—walking down the aisle in a white dress, Harry waiting for her at the end, tears in his eyes. Maybe they’d both cry.

“I don’t mind waiting,” Y/N said, her voice soft but certain. “I love him enough to wait as long as he needs me to.”

Ellis groaned, grabbing a bottle of vodka from her bedside table. “You can’t say stuff like that when I haven’t had a single drink.” She poured herself a shot and downed it in one go. “Okay, continue.”

Y/N laughed and turned back to her reflection, humming Queen’s Love of My Life as her thoughts drifted back to Harry.

. . .

Then — 1998

Dear Harry,

Today we went to the beach—the three of us. Me, you, and Y/N. I know in most situations it’s you, Y/N, then me, but in these letters, it will always be me and you.

We’d been planning this trip for weeks. It’s a three-hour drive to the coast from school, and Y/N had been complaining about the journey the entire time. I didn’t mind. Is it wrong of me to want to sit next to you on a bus full of people not one of them knowing who we are for three whole hours? Our knees touching for three whole hours? Sand on your feet and your hair salty from the sea, inhaling your scent and wanting your hand to touch my thigh for three whole hours?

When we got there, the morning was overcast, but by the time we hit the sand, the sun broke through the clouds. It was perfect. The light caught your skin, making it glisten, and your eyes shone with that impossible sea-glass green. I wanted to look into them forever, but you were too busy looking at Y/N.

I tried to catch your attention—touching your shoulder as I passed by, reaching for the beach bag at the same time as you, brushing my fingers against yours. But it didn’t matter. You only had eyes for her, and I only had eyes for you.

When you kissed her in the gardens, a part of me died. I had been pining for you for so long, silently hoping you’d see me, but it was always her. I felt stupid, running miles afterward, the wind howling in my ears: You fool, you idiot, how could he ever love you?

I didn’t want to feel this way, Harry. I tried to bury it, to pretend it wasn’t real, but when I met you, everything I’d hidden about myself unraveled.

The day wasn’t without its drama. Y/N, distracted, stepped into the road thinking the approaching van was the bus. You moved so fast, grabbing her and pulling her back before the van could hit her. I watched the terror flash across your face, the way you held her afterward as she cried. You kissed her forehead, comforted her, showed her the kind of love I’d only ever dreamed of.

And I hated her for it.

I feel terrible admitting this because I do love Y/N. I truly do. But most days, I hate her, and only because she has you.

When we finally got to the beach, the three of us ran toward the waves, shedding our clothes as we went, laughing like we were carefree children. For a moment, we were. We left our troubles behind in the sand.

You swung Y/N over your shoulder as you splashed into the water, and I couldn’t help but admire the way your muscles flexed. You were a work of art, Harry, something meant to be admired in a gallery. And I was nothing more than an observer, longing for what I could never have.

Later, Y/N went to get ice cream. Before she left, she asked for your order, and I already knew what you’d say—mint chocolate chip. The way she looked surprised made me feel smug for a second, but that quickly disappeared when she said it was her favorite too.

While she was gone, I felt a cramp in my shoulder. “Let me,” you murmured, and before I could answer, your fingertips ghosted over my shoulder, pressing into the tight muscle.

I couldn’t breathe, Harry. You were so close, your breath warm against my neck. For a split second, I thought if I just turned my head, I could kiss you.

I’ll never forget that moment for as long as I live. Even if you do.

. . .

Now — 2000

Dylan and Harry were in their dorm room, preparing for the party. Harry stood in front of the mirror, anxiously gelling his hair back.

“I think I’m going to do it,” Harry said suddenly, turning to face Dylan. “I’m going to go all the way with Y/N.”

Dylan froze, his heart sinking. He lit a cigarette, trying to appear nonchalant as he perched on the windowsill. “Really? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” His voice betrayed him, tinged with irritation and jealousy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m just saying, are you sure it’s the right time to sleep with her? After... what happened?”

Harry’s expression darkened. “Nothing happened. It was a mistake.”

“You keep saying that,” Dylan said, standing now, his voice rising. “Like you’re trying to gaslight me into thinking I imagined it. But I’ve imagined kissing you enough times to know what’s real and what’s not.”

Harry’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching. “I was drunk, and you took advantage of me.”

The words hit Dylan like a slap, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Don’t try that with me, Harry. It might work in your petty arguments with Y/N, but it won’t work on me. You’re the one twisting the truth to fit your narrative.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Harry snapped. “I only care about Y/N. And if you can’t handle that, maybe you need to step away—from both of us.”

“Step away?” Dylan said incredulously, his voice breaking. “You want me to walk away from the only two people who’ve ever cared about me? You want me to walk away from you?”

Harry hesitated, guilt flickering across his face. “You know how I feel about Y/N. I love her. I’m in love with her. Even if I felt something for you, it would never compare.”

“You’re lying,” Dylan whispered, his eyes glassy. “If you loved her so much, you wouldn’t have kissed me in the first place.”

“You don’t know anything!” Harry exploded, his voice shaking with fury. “Do you know what would happen if someone found out? What it would do to Y/N? To us? I felt nothing! It was a mistake!”

“Harry—”

“No,” Harry cut him off. “Whatever feelings you have, whatever intentions, you need to get over them.”

“That’s not as easy as you think—”

“You have to.” Harry’s voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Dylan stared at him, shattered, as Harry turned and stormed out.

He left Dylan standing there, broken, feeling like Harry had taken his very soul with him.

. . .

Then — 1999

Dear Harry,

We’ve been assigned as partners in media class, and now we have to make a music video. Naturally, you asked Y/N if she’d star in it. You told her she was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and that she’d be perfect for it. She blushed, of course, and said yes. Then you kissed her—so long and so deeply that I had to look away.

I imagined myself in her place, wondering what it would be like to kiss you in public, to have the world see how much I adored you. If it were allowed, I don’t think I’d ever stop kissing you.

Today, we filmed the music video. You wanted it to feel like a coming-of-age story. I’d wanted something more abstract, but I agreed to your ideas, nodding eagerly at every suggestion, whether it was brilliant or terrible.

We filmed in the gardens—my least favorite place in the entire school. That’s where you kissed Y/N for the first time, and if I could erase that night from my memory, I would in a heartbeat.

The sun was shining as you whispered into Y/N’s ear while I set up the camera. I tried to block out the sound of your laughter, the sight of her hand on your shoulder.

“Are we ready?” I called, my voice louder than I intended. You straightened up immediately.

“Dylan, why don’t you be in the video with me?” Y/N smiled warmly. She had that rare ability to make everyone feel seen, like she was radiating sunshine. It was impossible not to smile back.

“My darling, you know I’m not nearly as perfect as you,” I teased, watching her blush.

I don’t even remember when I started calling her “my darling.” The first time, I remember catching the flash of jealousy in your eyes. I liked that. I liked seeing you react to me, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted. You’re used to it now, but sometimes, when I say it, I still see a flicker of something in your gaze.

The music video took all day to shoot. Every time Y/N nailed a scene, you rewarded her with a kiss. I worked hard too, Harry. Shouldn’t I have been rewarded in some way?

When Y/N left for her library shift that evening, it was just the two of us. You wanted to capture the soft glow of the sunset, so we stayed behind to get more footage.

“My mother wants me to go into politics,” you said as we sat cross-legged on the grass, the camera between us. “But I’d love to do this—be a director. I’ve always wanted to be an artist of some kind. It’s a silly dream, but I think about it all the time.”

I could imagine it. You had a way of leading people, commanding attention without being arrogant. You cared so deeply—for the art, for the people—that it would probably destroy you someday.

“It’s not silly,” I said. “It’s never silly to dream. My God, Harry, we only live once. Might as well do everything we can to feel something in the little time we have.”

You looked at me then, really looked at me. For the first time, I thought you might be feeling a fraction of what I felt every day. “I’ve never told anyone that before. Not even Y/N knows.”

“It’ll be our secret,” I whispered. And for a moment, I could’ve sworn you glanced at my lips.

Then, just as quickly, you diverted the topic. Grabbing the camera, you aimed it at me lying in the grass. “Looks like Y/N’s not the only model anymore,” you teased.

I tried to act indifferent, but I would’ve stayed there all night if it meant seeing you laugh like that.

It makes me wonder, Harry—do you know how much power you have over your friends? Do you know that you have two people who worship the ground you walk on? How does it feel to be desired? How does it feel to have a choice in who you love?

. . .

Now — 2000

“You’re here!” Y/N beamed, running into Harry’s arms and wrapping her hands around his neck.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, kissing her temple before setting her down.

The party was already in full swing. Students from across campus had crammed into Ellis’ dorm, the air thick with music, laughter, and the faint smell of alcohol.

“Hi, Dylan,” Y/N greeted, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re dressed pretty smart. Planning on impressing anyone tonight?”

“Only you, darling,” Dylan replied, forcing a wink and a smirk despite the ache in his chest. Harry’s words from earlier still rang in his ears, but he pushed them aside.

Harry’s eyes darted to the cup in Y/N’s hand. “Have you been drinking?” he asked, his tone light but concerned.

“It’s water,” she whispered with a smile. Harry relaxed. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and he knew that.

“You look so pretty,” he said, marvelling at her dress. It was the one she wore for special occasions—one he had once told her was his favourite. A pang of guilt pricked at his heart as she looked back at him, her doe eyes filled with love.

“Come dance with me!” she said, pulling him toward the living room. “Both of you! My boys!”

Harry and Dylan followed her to the dance floor. The song Love My Way blared through the speakers, and Y/N moved between them, carefree and radiant.

At first, Harry danced with her, his focus entirely on Y/N. But then his gaze shifted to Dylan, who was swaying along with the music. Something unspoken passed between them, an invisible thread pulling them closer.

Harry laughed when Dylan moved towards him and for a moment they had forgotten everything around them. Dylan was just Dylan and Harry was just Harry, two boys who felt something they weren’t allowed to feel in the eyes of everyone else.

Harry was so close, their faces almost touching and for a moment Dylan thought they might kiss. But the blissful moment was broken as Harry stepped away, shaking his head, “N-No.” He whispered, “No, No, No.” He shook his head, his eyes frantic in search of Y/N.

“O-Oh, Harry,” Y/N yelped as he grabbed hold of her hand and lead her out of Ellis’ dorm and over to her own, three doors down from where the party was happening.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?” She cups his face in her hands and he exhales, trying to regain composure. This was the girl he loved, the only girl he could ever love and being in her hands felt like home. Didn’t it?

“Y-Y/N, I-I think I’m ready.” He presses his forehead against hers, kissing her bottom lip. “I’m ready.”

Her lips part in shock. She hadn’t been expecting this tonight and she wasn’t sure where Harry’s sudden desperation was coming from. He kissed down her neck as she tried to speak to him, “H-Harry, a-are you sure?” He nodded, his mouth leaving open mouthed kisses on her shoulder.

“I love you Y/N.” He looked into her eyes and she saw the sincerity behind them but also a hint of something else that she couldn’t quite place.

He started to peel her clothing off, his fingertips gently brushing against her soft skin. She tried to steady her breathing but her chest caved in and out as the oxygen in the room seemed to be escaping as he moved down her body. “Harry,” She whispered and he could hear the desperation in her voice. She reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers together.

Y/N was stripped down to her bra and underwear. This was the most skin she had revealed to anybody but she trusted Harry with everything in her, he was her best friend. He blew warm air over the thin material of her bra and her nipples hardened, an overwhelming sense of desire and lust flooding her insides. It was so new and overwhelming, her hands shaking as she ran her fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots.

“Baby,” He whispered, his hands cupping her thighs as he pressed kisses down her body.

“Harry, wait.” She murmured, his eyes looking up from where he was laying between her legs, “You’re still dressed.” She sat up and tugged on the hem of his sweater.

He laughed softly, as she struggled to pull the sweater over his head. She marvelled at the sound and kissed the tip of his nose. He pulled her onto his lap and she grinded her hips against his, “God look at you.” He whispered. “Don’t leave me Y/N. You can never leave me.”

“I’m never going to.” She said it like it was a promise.

His hands hooked the straps of her bra and he gently pulled them down, her breath hitching as the pad of his thumb brushed against the side of her breast. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in tightly, his face burying into the crook of her neck as he inhaled her.

This was going to be perfect, she thought, nothing could go wrong.

She grinded her hips against him again, a groan eliciting from his lip and a name escaping past the lips he had kissed her with so many times.

“Dylan.” Y/N froze. Her blood ran cold, and she pulled away as though Harry’s touch burned her.

“What did you say?” She pulled away, suddenly being naked in front of him didn’t feel right, being in a space alone with him didn’t feel right, everything she had ever felt for him before this moment didn’t feel right.

“Y/N,” He reached for her but she slipped away from him, slipped out of his touch, a touch she begged for just moments ago.

Harry’s heart no longer existed, wherever it was it had abandoned him and left him here in this terrible moment to fend for himself. He felt his eyes well up with tears as he watched Y/N try to pick up her discarded clothes. This wasn’t how it was meant to be, she was suppose to be picking up his clothes after a night making love to each other.

“Y-You said his name.” Y/N whimpered, she was panicking and Harry could do nothing but watch.

“Baby I-”

“NO.” She spat, “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.”

Harry watched as she turned around and clutched at her head, her knees buckling as she fell to the ground. She sobbed and sobbed, his hear wrenching at the sound of it. He had never heard a sound so painful in his life and he wanted to die in this very moment.

“No, No, No, No.” She sobbed, her shoulders shaking.

“Y/N please just let me explain.” Harry tried, crouching down in front of her and trying to place a hand on her now clothed shoulder.

“NO.” She pushed him away and leaped back, her back hitting the wall.

Harry was broken. He was truly broken. This was something well out of his reach in fixing and nothing he could do or say could make up for the fact that he had hurt the two people he loved and cherished the most in this world, in the span of one night.

“Get out of my room!” She began to scream, “Get out of here!”

A knock at the door shattered the silence.

“Hey, you guys in there?” Dylan’s voice called from the hallway.

Before Harry could respond, Y/N lunged for the door, anger blazing in her eyes.

“Get out of my room!” she screamed, her voice raw with betrayal.

Harry caught her before she reached Dylan, her fists pounding against his chest. “I’m broken,” she whimpered, her strength fading. “You broke me.”

And for the first time, Harry knew what it felt like to be utterly powerless.

. . .

Then — 2000

Dear Diary,

You know those secrets so big they feel like they could swallow you whole? The kind you promise never to tell a soul for as long as you live? At first, they consume you, taking over every thought and breath. But over time, they settle into the corners of your mind, a quiet part of you that only stirs when something triggers it.

Well, today I made one of those secrets.

It was a Tuesday, the day I volunteer in the library after school. There’s something peaceful about wandering the empty halls when no one else is around—a stark contrast to the chaos between periods. Mrs. Ableton asked me to deliver a stack of books to the English Literature cupboard. Our copies of The Catcher in the Rye were practically falling apart, so we’d ordered replacements.

As I walked through the hall, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye near the classroom where Harry and I have English together. Curious, I paused, almost dropping the books in my hands.

Harry was leaning against a desk, and Dylan stood in front of him. At first, I thought nothing of it and smiled, reaching for the door handle to make myself known. But then Dylan stepped closer, touched Harry’s hand, and kissed him.

I froze.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The same lips that had kissed mine were now kissing the lips of my best friend.

I wanted to cry, but I was too shocked to do anything but stand there, watching. A part of me hoped I was trapped in a nightmare—that I’d wake up, call Harry, and laugh about how silly it all was. But when Dylan pulled back, Harry grabbed his arm and kissed him again.

That time, I couldn’t watch.

I backed away, the tears finally falling. My mind raced as I searched for somewhere—anywhere—I could cry louder, scream even, because this wasn’t something I could cry about quietly.

Harry was mine. But he was also Dylan’s.

By the time I went to bed, I’d convinced myself I would confront them. I’d tell them I saw what happened and ask if we could move on, pretend it never happened. But as the hours stretched on, I realized I didn’t want to speak about it. Talking about it would mean reliving it, over and over.

I didn’t want to remember.

I just wanted Harry.

So, this is a secret I’ll take to my grave. I’ll never tell a soul I watched Harry kiss Dylan in a way he never kissed me.

Even if it breaks me.

. . .

Now — 2000

“What happened?” Dylan asked. They were back in his dorm now, Harry pacing the room like a caged animal.

“She knows,” Harry muttered, his fingers pulling at his hair—a habit whenever he was upset. “She knows about us, what we did.”

Dylan collapsed onto the bed, his face pale. “How?”

Harry stopped and turned to him, shame written all over his face. “I said your name.”

Dylan’s shoulders sagged, and he buried his face in his hands. Images of Y/N, broken and sobbing on her bedroom floor, flashed through his mind. She had begged them to fix her, but they were the ones who broke her.

“It’s fine,” Harry rambled, his voice shaking. “I-I’ll give her some time, however long she needs. Then I’ll explain. I’ll explain it was a misunderstanding.”

“Harry,” Dylan said gently, standing to take Harry’s hands in his own. “I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for Y/N to get over this.”

Harry’s breath hitched, and a sob escaped him as he crumpled into Dylan’s arms. Dylan ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, resting his cheek against Harry’s head. “It’s okay, love,” he whispered. “Everything will be alright.”

“I hurt her so bad, Dylan,” Harry cried. “I love her, and I hurt her.”

“She was always going to find out,” Dylan said softly, the truth cutting deeper than any lie.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Harry whispered.

Dylan sighed. “Why do you always talk about how things are meant to be? You act like your life was mapped out before you left the womb. Was it ‘meant to be’ that the three of us became inseparable? That you fell in love with both of us because you care so deeply? That I fell in love with you because you see art in everything? None of this was ‘meant to be,’ Harry. It just happened. And now we deal with it.”

Harry pulled back, tears streaking his face. “You still love me? Even after I pushed you away?”

Dylan smiled sadly, wiping a tear from Harry’s cheek. “I love you despite everything.”

Harry’s lips ghosted over Dylan’s, and for a moment, it felt like all their pain had been lifted. “Dylan,” Harry whispered, his voice trembling as he said the name again and again, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“You can say my name as much as you want, love,” Dylan murmured. “I’ll always be here.”

. . .

Three weeks passed and the friends were no longer talking to each other, instead they acted as though they didn’t know each other as they passed each other in the hallway.

Harry had to try and not flinch when he saw Y/N scurry pass him, her eyes red and bloodshot as Ellis comforted her, glaring at Harry as they did. He wanted to speak to her but he was never given the chance to, rightly so considering what he had done to her.

Dylan and Harry, mostly Harry, thought it would best to keep their distance for a while. It killed them both to not be around each other but for the sake of their friendship with Y/N, they shared small moments of brief eye contact and touches throughout the day. Neither of them knew what was to come for the both of them but this limbo was enough for now.

Dylan ate lunch alone and as he did, he listened to the conversations of everyone around him. He wondered what it felt like for them to go about their day feeling like they belong in their own skin and not feel ashamed over who they love. He had never felt so alienated and so out of touch with himself.

He had been given an after school detention for an hour with Mr Henley after calling him sexist in front of the class. No one was around when he left the classroom until he saw a group of girls walking across the field.

At the end of the line was Y/N, wearing her netball uniform.

She must have caught sight of him because the next thing he knew, she was walking up to him. He had to check behind him to see he was seeing correctly.

“Hi Dylan,” She keeps her distance for reasons unknown to him but being around her again made him relax, he missed the friendship he shared right at the very beginning when they were thirteen and picking each other up from class to go to the sweet shop after school.

“Hey Y/N.” He offers her a smile.

“How are you doing?” He didn’t miss the way she gripped her bag like she was trying to stop herself from saying anything she really wanted to.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” Y/N huffs, “I’ve had better days.” “Y/N-”

“Just tell me this,” She starts, “H-How long?”

Dylan decided he would be as honest and as straight to the point as he could be, it was what she deserved at least.

“Y/N the only thing we did was kiss one time. Harry stopped it because he’s in love with you.”

“And you’re in love with him.”

“Y-Yes.”

Y/N laughs incredulously, “We could never just be three best friends could we? It was always going to be complicated.”

“We could still be best friends Y/N.”

“But it’s not the same now is it?” She bit back and Dylan realised he needed to be careful with what he said. “Is he sad?”

“Terribly. Sometimes I hear him crying in his room at night.”

A silence fell between them which was strange. Y/N and Dylan has always had a brother-sister relationship, Dylan was always one to tease Y/N and make her laugh but right now it seemed all he was doing was making her upset.

“I’m moving schools.” Y/N confessed, “At the end of the term, I’m moving to Bridgewater. Mum’s moving in with her fiancee, and she wants me to be closer.”

“When were you going to tell us?” Dylan was shocked.

“I was given the choice. I could stay here or move to another school but if I stayed I’d have to stay at my dad’s during the holidays and I’m not in the mood to be lectured during my time away from school.”

Dylan didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t fathom the three of them not being together for such a long period of time. “I know what you’re thinking. I know I need to tell him but if we are going to have a shot at being friends again, I need to be away from you both.”

“Y/N,” Dylan shakes his head, “It doesn’t have to be like this,”

“You know I saw you when you kissed each other in the English Literature classroom?” She confessed, Dylan’s lips parting. “He kissed you in a way that he never kissed me. Everytime we kissed afterwards all I could think about was how different it was, how I desperately wanted him to kiss me the way I had seen him kiss you. I used to write in my diary about how I would die if I didn’t have him near me. I thought he would be the end of me but I didn’t realise you would be too.”

“I know he loves you Dylan and... I’m happy for you but I’m not selfless enough to stand beside you both and watch you fall in love when I so desperately love him too.”

“Y/N,” Dylan reaches out for her hand and takes it, “I’m sorry.” “I know Dylan, I know.”

. . .

Now — 2000

Harry’s leg wouldn’t stop jittering as he sat outside the school library on a Tuesday evening. He’d been waiting for this moment for weeks, replaying it over and over in his mind. He had spent countless hours rehearsing his apology to Y/N until it became a permanent loop in his thoughts.

When the library door swung open, he shot up immediately, brushing down his school trousers and running a hand through his hair. Y/N stepped out, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and her backpack slung over her shoulder.

She looked better than she had in weeks, and Harry’s heart ached at the sight of her. He would have carried her bag for her if they were still together.

Her expression changed when she saw him, her voice barely above a whisper. “H-Harry.”

“I came,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I-I couldn’t believe it when I got your text. I’d have waited here for hours if you hadn’t shown up.”

Her face softened briefly, but she walked past him. “Follow me,” she said simply.

He trailed behind her as she led him to the gardens—the place where they’d shared their first kiss and filmed the music video for his and Dylan’s project. It was a space filled with memories of the three of them: Y/N doing homework, Dylan reading, and Harry strumming his guitar.

They sat down on the swinging bench, a familiar seat now heavy with unspoken tension. Harry noticed she kept her distance, and though every fiber of his being wanted to pull her close, he knew it wasn’t the right time.

“Who gave you those?” Harry finally asked, nodding at the flowers in her hand. A flicker of hope crossed his face.

“Debbie,” she said, referring to the school librarian. “It’s my last day working at the library.”

“You quit?” Harry frowned, his gaze flicking from the flowers to her face.

Y/N inhaled deeply before speaking. “I’m leaving, Harry.”

The wind seemed to leave him. “N-No,” he stammered, shaking his head. “You—you can’t. You can’t just leave. I won’t let you—”

“Harry,” she interrupted, reaching for his hand and holding it gently in her lap. “It’s what’s best.”

“How can you say that?” he asked, trying to pull his hand away, though her warmth made it impossible. “How can you say it’s what’s best? The three of us—we’re supposed to be together.”

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked at him. He looked thinner, more tired than she’d ever seen him, but she couldn’t help him—not anymore.

“Y/N, the thing with Dylan...” Harry began, his voice cracking. “I-I never meant for it to happen. We were just alone, I was stressed, and my emotions got the better of me. But I don’t feel the same way about him as I do about you.”

She shook her head softly. “Maybe that’s true, but not in the way you think. Dylan has always been there for you, Harry, in ways I never could. The way you look at him... it’s like he hung the stars in the sky just for you, like he tilted the sun so it would never blind you but still brighten your world.

“Maybe you do love me,” she continued, her voice trembling, “but love isn’t just about taking care of someone. It’s not carrying my backpack because it’s too heavy or doing my homework when I’m too tired after netball. Love is about being vulnerable. It’s about being taken care of, about laughing and crying and feeling like your heart is burning, and nothing can put it out.

“Now tell me, Harry. Did you ever feel that way with me? Were you ever vulnerable with me?”

Harry’s heart cracked. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words.

“Please, Y/N,” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “I can’t be without you.”

“You have Dylan,” she said, trying to be the bigger person even though it shattered her inside. “It was never going to be me, Harry. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have feelings for him?”

Harry looked down at the ground, his silence all the confirmation she needed.

Her heart broke all over again, but she forced herself to stay strong. “Why do you have to go?” he asked, tears streaming down his face.

“Because, Harry,” she said gently, “what good would it do for the three of us if I stayed? You need to find out who you are, and so do I. Before me, it was you and Dylan. Now, it will end that way - with you and Dylan.”

“And what about you?” he asked desperately. “What will you do? Where will you go?”

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “But I’m grateful for what I’ve had. You and Dylan will always be a part of me. I hope one day we’ll forget this pain, and everything will be okay again.”

She reached out, brushing his hair back the way she used to. “I love you, Harry. I love you so much, I feel like I could burst.”

“I love you too,” he murmured. For the first time, he meant it in a way that felt true—not as a lover, but as a best friend.

“Be brave,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And tell him you love him.”

Harry nodded as the tears fell freely, clinging to her like a child who didn’t want to let go.

She was going to love him forever. She now knew he wouldn’t.

. . .

“She’s gone,” Dylan said softly from the doorway of Harry’s bedroom.

Harry sat at his desk, a pen still in his hand though it hovered, unmoving, above the page. “Was she alright?” he murmured.

“She was better than we probably thought,” Dylan admitted, realizing how much they’d underestimated Y/N’s strength. They’d always thought it was their job to protect her, but she’d always been stronger than the two of them combined.

“Right,” Harry muttered, his voice hollow.

Dylan moved to sit on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight. “I was thinking we could have the leftover soup for dinner instead of going to the dining hall.”

“I’m not hungry,” Harry replied—a rare admission from someone who was always hungry.

Dylan frowned. “How long are you going to wallow in this? Can’t you see we’re both trying to do the right thing for your benefit?”

Harry turned to him, anger flashing in his eyes. “And what exactly are you doing?”

“I’ve been keeping my distance,” Dylan snapped. “Acting like we’re strangers when we’re the complete opposite. Do you know how much it kills me to not be near you? To have to hide from myself?”

Harry stood abruptly. “And you think I’m not struggling? You think I haven’t been grappling with everything I feel?”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit!” Dylan shouted, standing to meet Harry’s gaze. “You had someone who loved you for two whole years. You have everything, Harry—loving parents, the best grades, popularity. And you act like it’s all been taken from you because I kissed you!”

“Y/N is gone because of us!” Harry yelled back.

“No,” Dylan said fiercely, his voice rising. “She’s gone because of you! Because you’re too afraid to be honest about who you are! Because you care too much about what everyone else thinks. That’s why she’s gone!”

Their faces were inches apart, their anger radiating in the small space between them.

“How dare you? Can’t you see this is difficult for me to accept?” Harry shouted, his voice trembling with anger and frustration.

“What is?” Dylan snapped back, stepping closer. “What is so difficult, Harry? What’s so hard that you have to sit in the dark and ignore the only two people who’ve ever truly cared about you? Huh? What is it? Tell me. TELL ME.”

“I am in love with you!” Harry yelled, the words ripping out of him like they had been clawing to escape for years. “I am a fool, and I am in love with you.”

Dylan froze, stunned. His breath caught in his throat as the weight of Harry’s confession settled over him. The words he had dreamed of hearing for years hung in the air between them, impossible to ignore.

“What?” Dylan managed, his voice barely a whisper.

“I have loved you since the moment I met you,” Harry said, his voice softer now but no less raw. “And it’s been killing me every day since. I think of you—daily, nightly, every moment in between—and it tears me apart. Kissing you was the bravest thing I’ve ever done, and denying it afterward made me a coward. But here I am now, standing in front of you, a man stupidly, hopelessly in love with his best friend.”

Harry’s eyes were red and glassy, the weight of years of unspoken emotion etched into his every feature.

Dylan stared at him, speechless. He had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was real, the depth of Harry’s vulnerability left him breathless.

“Kiss me,” Dylan whispered, his voice breaking. “Kiss me.”

Harry didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, cupping Dylan’s face in his hands as though it had been crafted to fit perfectly in his palms. Then he kissed him—fervent and unrestrained, pouring every ounce of his love and longing into that singular moment.

Dylan’s world ignited. A piece of him that had been dormant for years finally came alive. His heart and mind, long at odds, now burned in harmony as Harry’s lips moved against his. He felt consumed, but in the most beautiful way, as if he could lose himself in Harry forever and never once regret it.

“I love you too, Harry,” Dylan whispered when they finally parted, their foreheads resting together.

“I bloody well hope so,” Harry murmured, a small laugh escaping his lips as tears spilled down his cheeks.

. . .

Now

Dear Harry,

I’d like to tell you a story that will more than likely make you happy.

One day, I was sat in a café, only a twenty-minute walk away from Southend Park School, which is closed down now and turned into a factory to fix airplanes. I bought my usual order of a decaf cappuccino and a slice of toffee apple cake. On this particular day, they added more sugar to my cappuccino, so I knew it would be a good day.

Across from me, a woman sat, her dog lying down at her feet as she read The Catcher in the Rye whilst sipping on a fruit tea. I didn’t think much of it, but I found it interesting the way she would read something and then shakily jot something down in the little notebook on the table.

Anyway, I had originally come to the café so I could write about our trip to Brighton. You were still complaining about the sand in your clothes just last night despite the fact that Brighton has no sand.

“It’s alright, love,” I comforted you, helping you put your pyjamas on.

“It bothers me, Dylan.” You responded, coughing into your handkerchief.

We don’t leave our small bungalow very often because you don’t like to leave the dogs and I don’t like change, but this trip to Brighton was one we had been planning for a year or so, so we didn’t really have much choice in the matter.

We spent a lot of time sat on the beach in the evenings whilst we were there, a blanket wrapped around the both of us as we fed the seagulls. I remember you saying you liked the sound of the ocean because it made you feel like we were seventeen again, running into the ocean without a care in the world.

You then proceeded to mention how worried you are about our Y/N, “I hope she’s doing alright, our Y/N.” You said and then went back to talking about a programme you watched the night before.

You had always worried about Y/N in the years after she left, always asking where she was or what she was up to despite the fact we never got in contact with her again. I also wonder whether or not she is okay, and I knew that if I were to see her again, I would thank her for allowing us the space to fall in love.

It was awfully difficult those months after we kissed in your bedroom. We were constantly berated by people we had never spoken to before, and I knew it bothered you for a while, but we overcame it just like we did every other obstacle in our lives... together.

Anyway, as I continued to write about our trip, the door to the café opened again and three middle-aged people walked over to the elderly lady in the corner. “Come on Mum, we’ve got to say goodbye to Dad now,” the man spoke to her, and she swatted him away. Something about that small action gave me a strong sense of déjà vu.

“Give me a moment,” the woman responded, and the three children sat at the table in the chairs around her.

Eventually, they managed to get her standing up. One of them placed her coat around her shoulders, and another handed her her walking stick. When she turned to look at me, I saw a familiar set of eyes looking straight at me.

The three people aiding her walked to the door and held it open for her. As she was about to step out the door, her walking stick fell out of her shaky hands and right at my feet. I quickly picked it up and handed it to her, her face brightening at the sight of me.

“Thank you.” Her voice still sounded the same all that time ago.

“No... Thank you, my darling.”

[luminique]

Haunting his memories

☆ any male character x gn!reader

☆ angst, sad, mentions of break up, implied living together previously/domestic life. not proofread !

☆ don't ask why i think about sad things this much. mainly wrote this for my fav male charas but it's very general so imagine it with anyone you like !

Imagine men whose life revolved around you so every little thing reminds him of you, even after you two end things. Waking up and instantly rolling to the side, expecting to see your sleeping body laying next to him. Instead, it’s just a pillow, meant to imitate the space you’d take up. Sadly, it doesn’t fill the space you left behind in his heart. A crude replacement that doesn’t fulfill what it was meant to do.

After groggily rubbing his eyes and blinking away the memories of you, he gets up to freshen up. As he brushes his teeth, he could see your form next to his in the mirror, getting ready together. The images disappear when he splashes his face with cold water, reality settling in. Oh he doesn’t want to admit how he still uses the same soap, shampoo and conditioner you did, feeling as if this would be the closest he could get to your scent without actually being with you.

As he buttons up his shirt, he remembers you buttoning it up for him. Showering him with compliments, he was able to start his days with love and affection. But not anymore, no more tender words in the morning. A sigh and a comb of his hair, he drags himself to the kitchen.

Starting the morning with some sort of hot beverage, wondering why when you made it, it tasted so much better than when he makes it. So much sweeter, flavorful, energizing but now it just tasted dull and bland, unappetizing even. No reason to eat breakfast, you weren’t there to nag at him and eat together with.

As he’s about to take one step out of the door, he hears your voice behind him.

“I love you.”

Looking back and seeing nothing, he shakes his head. How cruel of his mind to play tricks on him like that, knowing full well the consequences of it’s sick joke. He’ll let memories be memories and shut the door behind him, leaving the memory of you lingering only in the space you both once shared.

©luminique do not repost or copy ! thank you so much for reading <3

[deeoccasionallyspeaks]

i just know yuuji religiously checks up on you after shibuuya.

he’s the one to come home & break the news to you. everyone else figures you’d rather hear it from him, & he does too. he comes immediately to you and kento’s shared apartment, still in his old clothes but he had the decency to wipe the blood & grime off of his face. solemnly brings his fist to the door to knock twice, knowing he had no choice but to give you the horrible news.

& you kind of already knew before yuuji even got there. kento always kept you updated, shooting a quick text in between exorcising curses. answering your “how’s it going” texts with a thumbs up emoji at the least.

however when you got that “you made life worth living. i love you” text from him, you already knew that was his way of saying goodbye. he just didn’t want to actually say it.

but you were so strong and mature, one of kento’s favorite traits of you. so you knew yuuji delivering the news to you would be harder on him. after all, he’s the one that called you and kento “mom & dad”. he’s the one who came over every sunday for family dinner. he’s the one who helped kento paint the living room a different color to surprise you.

so when yuuji does bring his fist up to knock, you immediately swing the door open greeting him with a sad smile. a look in your eyes that showed yuuji all too well that you already knew.

& the boy immediately shivers as a deep breathe he didn’t even realize he was holding escapes his lungs, letting out such a defeated sound. he immediately looks down and shakes his head, unable to look at you- almost as if he failed you.

however he did everything but fail you, and you let him know by wrapping your arms around the boy, finding the back of his head to craddle it. although much younger, his tall frame leans over into your shoulder as he lets the tears & whines leave his body. you silently cry with him, both of you doing your best to comfort one another.

“he was so proud of you, you know?” you whisper, applying more pressure to the comforting circles you were rubbing on his back, “he still is”.

you both stand in silence for a few minutes longer, coming to terms with the horrible reality that kento nanami was no longer physically with you, but now permanently resides in your hearts.

“thank you for coming, yuuji. i wouldn’t want to hear the news from anyone but you”

& the months after that are dreadful. you soon realize your strong personality could only hold you for so long. it gets hard to eat. bathing feels like a chore. you switch from being insolent to sorrowful. & you try to keep it together, but yuuji notices.

you are who he calls ‘mom’, afterall.

so he still comes by even when you send him a passive aggressive text saying you want to be alone. he brings you food and makes you eat it in front of him even if you say you already ate (he can tell when you’re lying). & he listens as you curse at whatever gods for taking your husband away from you. he understands when you break down and tell him you don’t know how to live life without kento.

& he doesn’t try to sell you dreams by telling you it’ll get better. he doesn’t try to make you see the bright side. no, he lets you grieve because, yeah, it’s not fair. no, you don’t deserve that, neither did kento.

but he keeps coming around to let you know that you’re not alone. to make bearing this burden a little easier.

& some more months go by, and yuuji hears the first real genuine laugh from you since the incident when he’s explaining a scene from this comedy movie he recently watched. you’re both sitting at the kitchen table, books strewn across the wood as yuuji came over needing help on a ridiculous assignment gojo assigned. & you both think that maybe things will start to feel better soon.

especially with kento’s framed picture looking down at you both from the wall adjacent.

yeah, things will get better soon.

———————————————————————-

omg i dont even know why i wrote that like why am i crying

[kingqueensoobscene]

SUNFLOWER "ANON" HERE AGAIN RGHHAHHHHHHH (i prefer sending anon asks)

timeskip scout with a dilf hunter reader /j /sfw🙏

reader meets scout (and the rest of the team) again after 7 years and now he has kids and a shitty mullet, immediately goes *neuron activation* after seeing how great he is with his children

reader fr being not the step parent but the parent that stepped up 🙏

HEY ANON!!!!!!! (I totally get you) 

I am so happy to get this request, because I think about this SO often! I was already into Scout before, but him becoming a Dilf was NOT on my 2024 bingo card 🗣‼️‼️ I have made another fic about Dad!Scout before, so here’s the link if you wanna check it out!! https://www.tumblr.com/kingqueensoobscene/770802320729669632/you-got-it-boss-i-wrote-this-as-a-romantic-scout

COMIC!SCOUT X DILF LOVER!READER (SFW)

-In the beginning, you met Scout working as a mercenary and while you joined the last out of the 10, you quickly became good friends. Being the 2nd youngest out of the 10, you and Scout had more in common. Comic books, TV shows, action figures, collecting cards. As a skilled defense, you worked well with Scout. Scout created a distraction long enough for you to knock the enemy Soldier from behind. Or for him to grab the intelligence while watching his flank. Then there was always celebrating wins together with spiked Bonk! on a late afternoon.

-Over time, you wanted the one you could not have. The unrequited crush he had on Miss Pauling, who you felt would not like him back considering she devoted 10 years of her life to a woman, made you feel sad. And Spy noticed those nights you spent sitting alone in the common area, morphing into color to tell you that this was all pointless. You only shrugged. You couldn’t help who you were attracted to. The fabric of his gloves brushed along woven cloth as he moved from his hand from his head to his eyes and rubbed them. Reassuringly, Spy told you you were an open book and Jeremy can’t read. As stupid as it sounded, he was right.

-Most of the team, some uncaring for it, knew you liked Scout. And it wasn’t that you acted like an idiot in front of him or that you flirted or even act jealous when Miss Pauling was around, you did none of that. It was how you looked at him. You looked past all of his stupidity and his overconfidence and you saw how he actually was. A sore loser who wanted to be liked. He told you all of the things that bothered him; how he couldn’t kill that one dumb Blu Sniper that keeps getting a hit on him no matter what you two strategized and how he viewed the other mercenaries as the family he missed back in Boston. He was oddly sacred when it came to his family. He liked not being alone and being around the loud and despite being the least strong, being capable of helping out his team and getting the chance to prove himself. And how everyone knew that you saw him as something other than a Masshole. And they really, really doubted you.  

-Down the line, with the help of Soldier, Miss Pauling found the scarce Australium thought to be gone from the Earth. After getting out of Australia, you found yourself in the maw of the Administrator and the many other teams of mercenaries. After the purpose of the entire manhunt for this element was found to be futile, you moved on. That was it. Moving on in life after the administrator was dusted was difficult. A harsh reality that the 9 other guys you started to see as people other than your coworkers, you would most likely not see again. It’s wasn’t so bad though; you got a good job, still did the things you loved, had a good social life too. You just missed one thing very much, your friend. 

-It was a shock when you found Soldier in your apartment when you came home from work. He gave you a big ol hug that knocked the wind out of you while two weights held your legs down to Earth. Two kids? Zhanna and Doe had children?! Soldier quickly brushed you off, saying that Merasmus wanted to hurry and explained that you were the only one the rest of the team couldn’t find. You were the only smart one who threatened to sue unless you were given a compensation package and a new identity. You were taken, not by choice, though you didn’t complain, to the city of Boston.

-When you arrived with the entirety of Heavy and now Soldier’s family, it was on the steps of the house of a boy you used to know well. Honestly, you were nervous, but excited. You had already caught up with Heavy and Medic the whole car ride there. Drifting to the back of the line as Heavy entered with the turkey the unattended Miss Pauling bought the team and Soldier’s kids practically dashed under the legs of everyone. Then you saw him. His hair all shagged out and his face with no traces of his 20’s anywhere. His eyes widened and a smile grew. 

“You goober! I thought I wasn’t gonna see ya tonight!” He said as he pulled you into a squeezed hug. 

It lasted for a couple more seconds before Scout looked down. A little boy tugging at his legs. 

“Daddy, can me and Patton and Georgia go play outside?” A small boy with yellow goggles on his face asked.

“Hmm, I dunno. Dinners about to start. Why don’t you wait until after dinner, alright?” Jeremy ruffled the boy’s hair. 

“Alright dad!” He ran off back into the kitchen.

You were honestly kind of surprised. You knew he wanted a family, but you never expected how good of a father he would be. His kid didn’t seem to throw a fit about waiting, instead just listening to him. Your crush just got revamped entirely. Your mind became moments of the days you spent on the rooftop talking about his Ma and his family. It seemed weird to be passionate about, but the impression was given that he wanted to have kids of his own to take care of and be a better father than the man who was absent. Giggling was loud in the living room where you saw 5 more kids, two of which were Soldier’s. 

“You have 4 children?!” 

Jeremy only laughed. “You too, huh? Yeah, everyone’s so shocked.”

“I mean, it has been 7 years.” 

“Yeah, but that just means we got lots of catchin’ up, huh?” He punched your arm.

“For starters, where’s your lucky wife? You nudged his side, smirking.

“Got none. All deadbeats, the last three. Doesn’t matter, they’re my kids and I’m gonna raise ‘em right.” 

Despite the circumstances that you wish were much better for the children’s well-being, this just got so much better for you. 

“But I love my lil boogers.” 

He ran up behind the running girl who had a purple skirt and a grey sweater on. He picked her up under her arms and brought her to his face. 

“Isn’t that right, my lil booger?” He kissed the girl’s cheek and she giggled more.

He set her down gently and made an explosion noise. Another girl, a redhead, came up and asked if she could be exploded and you chuckled. But he did it, he lifted her up, gave her a peck on the forehead and set her down making a crashing noise. He was really good with kids. Maybe you would take him up on that offer to catch up.

-Eventually and habitually, you often visited his home on the weekends. He wasn’t really a fan of leaving the kids home alone, so he liked having you over for dinner. He has a recipe book his mom got him that he uses almost every time he makes dinner. She copied all of the recipes from their family, saving the originals and made them into a book for him when his family visited for Christmas (After the holiday party with the team). It is some of the most delicious food ever. 

-During the spring, he brought out the toy cars for his kids to run around with in the backyard. While he was inside making lemonade, the brown haired girl, Tanya, ran up to you. 

“(Name)! (Name)! We need someone to be the helpless victim to Tommy’s castle.” She shook your arm, her balaclava that was way too large for her face flopped around as she did so. 

“I guess I’ll have to be saved by the princess assassin once again.” You woed dramatically as she dragged you along to Tommy’s little sandbox. 

Tommy had a plastic knights mask on, one he got for Christmas as he has told you ecstatically many times. Jeremy was a good listener when it came to his kids, since he was the youngest of 8 and was mostly given hand-me-downs and mostly unintentionally ignored at times by his Ma. So, since he has half the kids and more free time due to being technically in early retirement, he makes sure all of his kids get what they want. They are a little spoiled.

You were behind the green closed sandbox, where Tommy has “captured” you. You pretended to be tied up, with the imaginary chains behind your back. Tanya, Andy, the curly haired boy and Sierra, the redheaded girl, were huddled up and talking in hushed voices. Andy had on a red cape and his yellow goggles. You could never get him to take those things off.

“So we’re gonna tackle him?” Sierra asked.

“Duh!” Tanya exclaimed.

“Ok!”

They took after their dad so much. Going into things with one thing in mind. Tanya and Andy ran after Tommy and grabbed his legs, tumbling to the ground. Sierra grabbed your arm and led you to the playground set Jeremy had installed over the summer. She urged you to hurry up, so you climbed up the slide while she went up the rocks. 

“We won!” She threw her hands to the sky. 

You, on the other hand, “Are you ok, Tommy?” 

Andy was looking down at his brother, biting his lip. Tommy lifted up the plastic top of the knights mask and you could a smile on his rosy face.

“I’m ok!” 

You took the slide down and went up to him. 

“You sure?” 

“Mhm!”

“Good,” you helped him to his feet, “because I need a knight to help me win against an assassin.”

Tanya whined and looked betrayed. 

“What? No fair!” 

“You were fooled, it was a trap!” You grabbed a foam sword. 

Tommy giggled manically as you both ran after them. You didn’t hit the 3, you couldn’t, but you pretended to slash them with a “shh!” noise. Then you heard a loud laugh to your left. 

“Heh, oh man! That’s something. C’mon kids, come get your drinks.” You saw Jeremy had come back. 

The kids dropped what they were doing and ran to the cookies and lemonade. You walked up to Jeremy a little rosy. 

“I hate to say it, but I betrayed your daughter.” You chuckled.

“Yeah, I saw that.” He smirked.

After putting the kids to bed, Jeremy walked you out the door.

“Hey, uh, thanks for taking care of my kids when I would step away.” He leaned his elbow against the doorframe. 

“That’s nothing! You’re great with your kids, I’ve never seen kids be such good listeners.” 

“Heh, well, their dad is an amazing guy.” He chuckled.

Then there was silence. You hesitated. Jeremy looked at you with a squint and a smile. 

“You okay?” 

“I have to tell you something to tell you. And it’s going to be hard because it might ruin things between us.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, unserious. 

“I- ok, so I have known you for a long time and you are one of the people I care about the most. I know it’s been a long time, but those feelings have come back again. I know you have your kids and I know that’s the life you want, which is totally fine! But now that we’re older, I wanted to tell you and get it off my chest.” 

He leaned closer, waiting with an eager smile. 

“I have always liked you.”

“That it?” 

“That’s all.” 

You could not look into his eyes. You did not want to see him angry or in disbelief if this would be the last time you ever talk to him again. You feel awful, but you need to tell him otherwise you would regret it again. 

“Is it because I’m a dad now? Because i always knew I was smokin’ hot, but I never knew that’s what it would take for you to tell me.”

Then you started to laugh. And he laughed. And you looked at him now. He was just looking at you. 

“Do you like me?” You asked.

“Well, no. But now I’m thinking why the hell I didn’t.” 

And there was another moment of silence again. For once in his life, he actually thought about his words. It would take some serious rekindling before he would consider dating you. His kids come first and that is something he makes clear from the beginning. To be honest, he has thought about you for some time. He’s trusted you for years, and now he knows he still can.

“I dunno, maybe this could work. But, hey, uh, just gimme some time. I’ll have to find a babysitter.”

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

We NEED FlowerByte: Addressing the lack of Black Girl Representation in ATSV -

[a MEDIUM length essay addressing how FlowerByte IS NOT a threat to GhostFlower, and how the ship is actually NECESSARY to the ATSV fandom]

and examining the criticism against Miles x Margo:

Remember there's nothing wrong or desperate about people shipping FlowerByte. It's natural, fine, and to be expected.

Because - if you have doubts about FlowerByte - have you ever considered how there's no black girls other than Margo in ATSV? That ISTV features no black girls as reoccurring characters?

That the only two POC female characters - Jess and Rio - are adults in nurturing positions, shown only ever taking care of others?

Up until this point, have you noticed how much black girls are missing from ATSV?

Or did you not realize? Most don't. But black girls do.

Because black girls are one of the only demographics not shown or supported in the ITSV series.

As we know it, we have no young black girl characters that have more than maybe 10 lines. So far we have Gwen's bandmates and Margo.

Black girls are probably the only demographic NOT seeing themselves swinging around.

The only two black women characters are grown women, specifically MOTHER FIGURES. Characters written to aids others through their arcs, saving and comforting in times of need.

That's why I wrote Diane's background as it is. She's a born and raised Black Panther Party member, raise in the meeting house of her local chapter.

She's a black radicalist, and that's the center of her world and character. From her mirroring black disco divas like Diana Ross, to being a Black Panther, I wanted Diane and her world to be unequivocally black.

There's never any scene of a black girl in a Spider-suit, swinging around or saving the day. Not once.

And it's never been mentioned. To most people, it's not a concern.

To most people, the sad reality is - black women aren't a concern. Just side characters.

And that shows. Not only on screen, but in fandom as well.

At no point in ITSV are young black girls given a character in which they can see themselves - not even as background characters, let alone as a romantic interest.

You make think that FlowerByte is silly, because 'they don't really have chemistry, right?'

But there is nothing wrong or silly about black girls wanting to see Miles calling them pretty, or admiring them, or dating them.

Margo truly is the only black girl we even see Miles have a conversation with for the entirety of ATSV - for the entirety of the SERIES thus far.

And chances are - most people reading this didn't notice this. But black girls DO.

Imagine seeing multiple characters of the same race, but different gender as you - but NONE of your gender (nb peeps know what I mean)

Never being called cool, or strong. No gifsets of cool black girls fighting. No black girls in the fanart. Left off posters. Never seen as pretty, never shown as desirable, never having male counterparts consider them.

The message - and damage - it sends to young black girls is clear - even in ATSV.

'You're not a person to be desired or admired. You are a plot device and nothing more.'

It sends the message 'You are not an actual person. You're there to save Gwen, and let Miles escape. After that, get off the screen. Your character will be judged based on how you serve the characters around you. We don't have enough time to flesh you out any further. And we know no one will ask about it.'

Black girls notice how they're one of the only ones who doesn't get a character to wear as a Halloween costume, or as a cosplay. They notice when they see merch and there's none of anyone that looks then them. They notice when their only options are 'genderbent' Miles and Hobie, because most don't see Margo as a main character.

They notice when none of their favorite characters give black girls a second glance, or have crushes on black girls. They notice when the only black women aren't actually stories about BLACK WOMEN. They're stories about white women - with the character being drawn or cast as black.

Example: You'll never see MCU MJ talk about racism or something. Because she's not written as a black girl first. She's written as a MARY-JANE first - and the basis of her story is that and nothing more. Anything about her black identity is seen as at best unnecessary or worse, contradictory to the character of MJ - so her race is left as only a visual element, only a feature of casting, and not a true aspect of her character.

There's literally nothing wrong with Flowerbyte and I admire those that are making works for them.

Black girls deserve every bit of love, and ffs they're CUTE together.

Hobie and Noir get shipped together all the time and they don't even know each other (yet). No one cares. People think it's cute.

But Miles and Margo get shipped together - and suddenly theres a discussion on how 'unlikely' or 'forced' that ship is.

The same with Hobie x Black!readers, or Miles-42 fics - it's often when black women seek to fill their own lack of representation that others even consider them apart of the conversation. And even then - it's to force them back into their place.

'Miles is meant to be with Gwen. That scene meant nothing. They don't have chemistry. You just hate Gwen. You just want them together because she's black'

YEAH, AND? Liking FlowerByte doesn't mean they have it out for Gwen. It means they're desperately looking for representation.

YOU should be calling for that representation. Now that you know, doesn't this lack of representation disturb you? If it doesn't, but FlowerByte does, then I can't help you.

But yeah. Just a friendly reminder, FlowerByte is good for the soul and the fandom.

We as fans of ATSV have to be candid in admitting that the series SEVERELY lacks representation of young black girls, which is A HUGE problem.

The one black female Spider-woman they have had to be CREATED as black, from a white rendition of the character.

So far, Margo is the one and only original black Spider-woman in ATSV.

That needs to change. But until then, let FlowerByte sail on. If you're a Gwiles shipper, you can always double ship. Nothing wrong with it. I suggest maybe you check out some FlowerByte stuff. Maybe you'll like their dynamic, or understand why writers write it a bit more, if not 🤷🏾 hey, you tried.

I think we can all agree though - Miles' got the rizz.

Remember to support black women today. BYE.

[achaotichuman]

OMG where have you been all this time?😭 People like you could have saved me from this series. I was introduced to the pro- fandom first and so I already had this impression on the characters. Then this Cassian walks in with his ‘I am an adorable goofball who doesn’t understand social cues but I have a heart of gold’ attitude and narrates their past. Then the Morrigan history. I WANTED TO CLAW MY EYES OUT. I was so lost, how can anyone think it’s normal? It’s not even a slow unpacking for people to build a barrier yet. I was hoping for his death at the end of WAR but that fucker survives. Then he gets worse and worse.

I honestly don’t care about the plot in these books really, a whole lot of faux women power and male ego and sword swinging which is tbf exhausting at this point. She found one formula that worked best the first time and she’s milking it. She knows her MMCs are more popular than her FMCs which is the saddest thing for a female author writing a female-centric books. But she doesn’t care, she actually is one of the groupies.

Feyre was her self-insert in TAR and her story was at the centre, not Tamlin. SJM was as neutral as a writer can be towards him. But her interests and love shifted to Rhysand and ever since the books have been about him rather than her FMCs. She retired Feyre so she can imprint on Nesta and even then, rhysand gets more attention than Feyre, who is Nesta’s sister, and it is their tumultuous relationship that apparently leads to SF.

The only comfort I have about Gwyriel is that they aren’t enemies as of now, they have childish banter and some understanding. So there wouldn’t be that heavy tension Feysand or Nessian had. So I’m hoping Gwyn won’t be traumatised for Azriel’s sad boy wallowing. But SJM won’t give up on violence and it’s concerning since both already have a terrible past.

I’d rather have Lucien happily prancing around in Spring all alone than him ending up with Elain😭 That man deserves some happiness and I KNOW how this is going to go down.

(P.S DID YOU SEE THE NERIS POST? DID YOU SEE THE NERIS POST? TELL ME YOU SAW THE NERIS POST!!)

Well this took me forever to respond to, I am very sorry about that 😭

I get you with being introduced to the Pro-fandom first, I learned about ACOTAR through TikTok shortly after reading TOG, when I tell you I was *fanatic* for these series, I *loved* them. Dived right into the ACOTAR fandom, I knew the entire series plot like the back of my hand before I even read it, so there were no surprises for me when I read it. And whilst I was never 'anti Tamlin' at any point during my read, I was very pro IC for a while, then Silver Flames rolled around and I was like "Yah... fuck this." And I wrote my own fanfiction.

She found one formula that worked best the first time and she’s milking it.

Preach. SJM is praised continuously for being this super #feminist author, when in reality the themes of feminism in her book are extremely shallow and dependent on what her favourite MMC of the book is doing. There is going to be no reality in which the plot of the future books in this series get better, in fact, I suspect they will get far worse. ACOTAR, especially when compared to her other series, is a money maker. Shitty work that is low effort, that follows a specific formula that she is certain works. It's nothing more.

Entirely agree with you on SJM being at the very least neutral on Feyre and Tamlin's story until she fell in love with Rhysand, then she molded Feyre into an accessory of his. It's *especially* evident with Nesta, as you mentioned, Rhysand is still a focal point in Nesta's own story, despite her not liking him and having zero reason to like him. Their relationship, and 'hugging it out' at the end of Silver Flames is *incredibly* forced, Nesta just gave up everything for him after almost dying in the Blood Rite and the only connection she had with him or the IC before the Rite was them physically punishing her and wanting her dead. It was a cheap shot at creating a relationship for Rhysand and Nesta so SJM can fawn over him.

I definitely believe Gwynriel will be the least abusive of the three bat boys relationships, but I have no hope in Gwyn remaining an independent person, with a title of her own, forging her own path and healing on her own. I will bet two dollars at the end of this entire series, Gwyn, Nesta and Elain will all have babies, and ofc, Emerie being the only POC character will be forgotten about and maybe mentioned if we're lucky being seen alongside her shining, far far far more beautiful, definitely doesn't serve, no one knows why she choose her, girlfriend Morrigan.

I can't even with Elucien. I can only pray that SJM retcons Elain's shitty, shitty personality and she's not as much of an asshole in the Elucien arc, but I highly highly doubt it.

(YES YES I SAW THE NERIS POST, I DID I LOVED IT)

[mimi-is-so-horny]

okay, so... you know how sometimes a day starts lovely, and then it goes to shit? and sometimes, you feel like you've done this to yourself? actually, you have done it to yourself. anyway.

i made a point to wake up early today to make Sir and Anna breakfast and to write them a note thanking them for fucking me so well yesterday, and for being pretty much the best thing in my life right now. i felt very grateful and i know i'm very lucky. i think they appreciated that, too.

i blew the candles on my birthday cake naked on Sir's lap - i've been 25 for a couple of days, and i usually hate my birthdays, but Anna insisted we should do the whole birthday thing properly. Sir wrote me a birthday card that almost moved me to tears. He groped my tits as i blew my candles.

for context, i used to want to enter academia in combination to committing to a totally different career path. what i'm doing right now isn't even my Plan C, so of course, i feel a bit like a failure. i'd written a chapter in a book that discussed some recent developments in my field and placed them in a behavioural/institutional context - the book was published this year, and the complimentary copy they sent to authors arrived on my birthday. i should be happy, right? but i feel so defeated, and so dumb, and like this is the first and last good thing i got to do before giving up on my aspirations completely. sure, i'll still apply to enter a more commercial side of my field next year, but that's still just more "sustainable", financially, and more difficult than i thought it would be. all this effort for something i won't really value or enjoy, yuck. and what if i fail, again? anyway. Mimi's whiny ass.

so Sir asked me to read my chapter, and i said yes, sure. He wanted to "see how i think". why not, right?

He fucked me yesterday, and this morning, and at noon, and it felt so good. and now He came to my room, to tell me He read my chapter, and while i felt vulnerable i tried to look cool asking Him what He thought of it.

and He showered me in compliments, and asked me why am i here, and not at a Big Prestigious University™ doing research? i told Him that's why i tried, and the Big Prestigious University™ didn't do shit for Mimi in a post-covid job market where she had to care for her family and couldn't work Prestigious Unpaid Internships™. and still, with no network or real mentors that cared more about guiding me than fucking me, or plagiarising me (lol), my options narrowed. and He knew that, so why was He asking me? and then He asked more questions, and i got increasingly angry and i cried and told Him to leave my room, please. well, at least He did.

so now i have to go downstairs and apologise for lashing out at Him for essentially caring. that was just me projecting - how mad i am at myself for failing, and for giving up, and and for being too lazy to try again - on Him. but i also don't want to do that, because i can only taste how i'm not working in the city i want, and how the people i work for are surprised when i can introduce better corrections than them, and how i am a grown woman that is already bitter about not being where she wanted to be. how i pretend to have given up, when in reality i'm still kind of grieving the people i thought i could be, and realising it can always get worse. am i making myself into a victim: poor-me, poor-me? or am i entitled to my anger and sadness? i don't know, and Sir knows something sad happened to me without my consent, a long while ago - so what if He sees me as a victim, too? am i really that stupid and that passive? what if i'm wasting His time, too?

i don't think i use kink as a coping mechanism or as a distraction; i'm just happy it's an area of my life i'm currently getting exactly what i want, exactly in my own terms and limits - i've rarely gotten that much respect and reciprocity in "vanilla world" - be it work, or education, or friendships. but that fact also makes me sad. why can't i have some of the things i want, sometimes? why was it "Rejection Letter"+"Your Flatmate Lost Your Cat And Now Won't Help Or Speak To You"+"Your Supervisor Wants To Fuck You And He's Angry Now!"+"Your Family Is Asking For Money, Again!!!", and not, like, slightly better? it's hard to feel empowered now. that sad six-year-old is here again, and she wants good stuff i don't know how to give, because i'm out of fucking candy (or, y'know, drugs. because i don't do that shit anymore).

anyway, that will be a difficult conversation. and i feel sorry for Him, for having to deal with me.

well, that was a very self-centred ramble by a fairly self-centred person, so i'm sorry if you read this? but also it was your choice to do so, meh. drink water, wear sunscreen.

[torturedblue]

It’s the middle of the week, have some dancing turtles

Spoilers below as I gush about my Mutant Mayhem Monday experience 🤗 please feel free to gush with me I wanna hear other people’s thoughts too!

First off… When Seth wanted to put the teenager in TMNT he meant it. Like, all the versions act like teenagers, but like Nickelodeon PG stereotypical teens. MM turtles were the realest PG-13 outta pocket 21st century teenagers I’ve ever seen and I love that shit because it’s the first time I actually felt like I was around the kids in middle school and high school again with the way they talk. Kinda appreciate Superfly cussing too? Like idk it’s Ice Cube and this villain goes hard tryna kill some teenage turtles he formally saw as his lil cousins, let the grown mutant cuss

Also uh, was not expecting to be sad so early in the movie? Like I could tell from the trailers it was gon be an emotional rollercoaster but shit like ten minutes in and these turtles are fuckin depressed. And to see it really hit me because in every other version (except for Bayverse) the turtles literally never let not being part of the human world get to them. In the shows especially they’re so well adjusted and never bothered by sticking to the shadows. Then there’s Rise where they pretty much go out whenever they want and indulge in most of the human world stuff they want to. For these guys to be so stunted and desperate to have more freedom was so heart wrenching. Especially when Splinter grounds them for a whole month and the reality sinks in of how much they know the life they want isn’t an option for them

Wasn’t expecting any kind of ship or romance but that crush Leo has on April hit me like truck because…… holy crap the Leo-April pair has never been a thing? On top of that this is only the second on screen black April we’ve seen and I’ve been a Leo kinnie across the board since day one so to see this combo of my favorite character liking a black girl is making me lose my mind 🥲 and like it got me thinking of several of my favorite shows and the single characters I kin in those and if they’ve ever had black love interests and it’s just still not a common normalized thing honestly.

I’m sure a lot of people aren’t excited for the prospect of ships coming back (especially after 2012 scarred us) but as a Leo lover and black girl it got me so excited to see something like this. I’m just hopeful and optimistic they won’t mess it up like a lot of shows do. The “this is just as friends line” already makes me a little worried bc that trope never has a good history but I have faith they’ll handle things tastefully and not make it toxic or messy

MURDER THE SHREKS!

“I assume you’d wanna be on camera. ‘Cause you have, like a very camera ready look…” OKAY SMOOOOOTH LEONARDOOOOOO 👏🏽

Could not stop laughing while he was shooting his shot my face was literally donnie’s restraining myself from bursting out laughing

Just a couple of my favorite questions that April wrote down for them:

“Do you carry salmonella?” Look I still don’t know wtf salmonella is but it’s the second time a TMNT iteration has joked about it so I’m starting to think it has something specifically to do with turtles 👀

“Have you caught covid?” Oml covid exists in this world

“Are you the source of covid?” OUT OF LINE 💀

“How many people has the red bandana turtle stabbed? Does he need therapy?” Yes.

“Does sunlight cause you to burst into flames?” They’re- they’re not vampires? 😂

Leon Ardo deserves the world and whatever he wants in it give him everything 😭

I will never understand what made Donnie laugh so hard at the name Nardo other than it being because it’s his sibling and that it bothers Leo lmao

All imma say about the puke scene is that I’m glad I heard an “out of context” spoiler about it bc I knew exactly when to look away and I’m glad I did bc the scene lasted for so long??? 😀❓But hey at least I had Unwritten to listen too while I was sparing my eyes 😂

The sequence of them going around and shaking down those gangs and Superfly’s connections. BAD. ASS. And each of them got their own moments to shine? Loved it. Like they each even got to take point and have their moments where they got to kick in the door lol. And the fight scenes were just, muah. Chef’s kiss, they all looked amazing taking grown ass adults down together

Okay Splinter definitely gets the best dad award for putting together that little surprise party, with all the celebrity Chris’s and pretending to wait on them 🥺 so pure. It did make me sad the guys immediately left and you can just see such a sad dejected look on Splinter’s face, knowing he can’t provide what his kids really want or make them happy enough without it 🥲 At the very least they say thanks and that they appreciate but I would’ve at least stayed for a lil bit and gone along with it, Splinter just looked so excited about it and it was so sweet 😭

And he doesn’t even get upset though he knows they’re hiding something, he just says he’ll help them if they’ve gotten into trouble, which is something I’m sure almost every kid has wanted instead of having the kind of relationship where they’re more scared of telling their parents they messed up instead of handling it on their own

I love how musical Superfly’s family is 😂 Ray Filet just starts sing-introducing his name and Mondo and the other couple mutants when they drive with in the car trying to find music they could all sing to together 🥹 not to mention the musical references Superfly makes later that I’ll get to. “Kinda don’t wanna murder everyone on Earth, I just kinda wanna sing��� Me too bruh.

Raph immediately going “goochi goochi goo” and playing peekaboo with Genghis frog is so underrated that boy has such a soft side he’s not even that afraid of showing at times, and maybe it’s continuing the trope of Raph having a soft spot for pets/animals? Who knows 😌

Yo I was kinda shook when that government guy knocked Leo out and he just fell unconscious on the ground 😶 Like we’re used to seeing the authorities be brutal especially in movies like this but that’s a whole teenager? You just assaulted a minor? 🙂 Crazy

Also I know it’s sad they got captured and drained painfully but Mikey in that scene was hilarious 😂 like even the way he was dramatically crying and Leo was just started to cry with him like “iM sO sOrRy mIkEeEeEy! 😭” gold. When one of his children is hurting Leo hurts too. One of my favorite moments 🤣

They literally started singing BTS while being tortured they’re so unserious but like in a serious way to them and I love it. Also the fact that they did it just to make Donnie feel better? So pure. Like Raph of all turtles offered to sing while being drained of blood (bc I refuse to use the m word 💀)

The way Splinter snuck in and soloed literal government soldiers single handedly? Badass. Never loved seeing a Splinter save his sons so much 🥹

“But it’s the only way we’ll be accepted.”

“No! We accept you!”

“You can come live with us! We accept you!”

“WE VIBE!”

Oml they’re so puuuuure 😭 I really thought this was gonna be a moment where the guys invite them all to come live with them and Splinter was gonna be like ‘aha 😬 whoa slow down there’ but damn nah he was just as enthusiastic as them inviting all those mutants to come live in their home forever “The more the merrier!” Like ugh he just loves finding family like Baxter Stockman and we see where the guys got their loving nature from 🥹

The amount of his soul Mikey put into that BROSEEEPH was so real like I’ve never heard the name broseph be said in any other way, I’m so glad they put that moment in there

“New York, New York!” “I’m the king of New York!”

Oml superfly’s a Broadway baby 🤗 he’s a big bad villain marching through time square and talking about King Kong but he’s fill gonna nerd out and make his musical theatre references 😂

“For once in your life you didn’t sound lame. You actually started to sound like a leader”

“That was really heartfelt Raph”

I love the Leo Raph dynamic in this movie. Like they don’t always agree or understand each other but they will show love towards one another and show mutual appreciation

Something about any of the turtles shells cracking always gets to me for some reason like those are some serious permanent injuries so I want to see if they do anything special with that in the sequel or show maybe 🤔 And I couldn’t tell if all of theirs cracked or just one, and if so which turtle it was. I think Leo or Raph. I feel like it was Leo but Raph’s are also starting to have a trend of getting cracks in their shells so 🤷🏽‍♀️

Also I do not want to judge what other people like to wear but why are Raph and Donnie the only normal dressed ones 😭 like Mikey looks like he’s going on vacation and Leo looks like he’s going to clock in at Best Buy 😂 tell me it’s because they have limited resources for clothes lmao. HE’S LITERALLY WEARING A LANYARD

Them taking off the masks was crazy honestly… like them deciding not to wear them made my brain pause until I realize they’re kids going to school now and not being ninjas all the time… they don’t need them anymore. I’m just so pleased with the fact that this movie was willing to do what all other iterations weren’t. I see why they’re getting a sequel and show already, these guys and the plot development deserve so much more exploration

Maybe I missed something in the beginning but I’m wondering where Stockman went. Like is he still in custody? Did he die? Because not seeing him again that’s what I assumed but we only saw him get arrested or whatever, so if anything I don’t get why Superfly and the others wouldn’t try to break him out 🤔 I was surprised they didn’t make him a villain though, but I’m pretty happy about him getting to be a more optimistic kind character tho

SHREDDER HAD ME SHOOK LIKE THE ARMOR ALREADY LOOKED SO COOL AND I WAS NOT EXPECTING THEM TO GET THE BIG BAD INVOLVED AHHHH I’M SO READY TO SEE THEM REACT TO THIS ANGRY GIANT TIN CAN

Although I do wonder if Shredder’s gonna have some personal gripe with them since they have a different backstory he doesn’t seem to be a part of. And shit now that they’re public and in school it’s gonna be so much easier for him to go after them 😅 pluses and minuses…

The soundtrack: golden. Cultured. Nothing but range. Goes from a 90’s rap song to Natasha Bedingfield’s soulful 2000’s song. Most movies only ever have all pop mainstream songs or only rap songs because they think they can’t mix but MM does it effortlessly. The turtles are so versatile not just with music genres but they make old and new references ‘cause they’re well rounded kings 💪🏽 Between rizz, Adele, broski, Hey Arnold, K-Pop, Ferris Bueller, etc… I mean Donnie’s literally doing the sprinkler and the funky chicken in that gif up top 😂 they’re born in 2008 I doubt any kids today know about those dances anymore

Clearly I have all the thoughts and feelings about these boys and the movie, but I think this is probably my favorite TMNT movie? I’ve loved all of them but I think this one definitely brings me the most comfort fr

[voidwritesstuff]

New Beginings In The Golden Hour

Cw:angst,strife has an anxiety attack.

Summary:Death must deal with the consequences of his millennia long awful behavior.

>Hurt/Comfort girlies.

>Part 2 of "Final Moments in the blue hour"

A/N: @darkdemeter hey Deeeem look what I've got. Also, I wrote the lil lullaby and enchantment depicted in the fic (I love making stuff rhyme)

--I'm sorry

The words still didn't registre in Strife's mind. He pulled from the hug a little startled,eyes widening as he turns to Fury for any sort of confirmation that she's just as confused as he is.

But his sister doesn't meet his gaze. She hangs her head low with a reverence for the eldest that is so unlike her. He began to feel something prickle at the back of his head. Something just didnt feel right.

Death didnt fight him when the hug was broken, he simply pressed his face to the hair of the female nephilim. Then the eldest cleared his throat and pulled back,turning to meet Strife's eyes.

--Alright...thats New-- The gunslinger didnt have his characteristical bite to his witt. He coughs a little and his eyes struggle to meet his brother's. -- we should go uh...find War.

Fury nodded,wiping what seems to be tears from the corner of her eyes. She Gave the reaper a look,a bit complicit And like they're having an unspoken conversation.

Yep,hes defenetly was missing something.

--I..I think I know where to find him-- The she-horseman said, nodding towards the spire that ominously hovers in the Sky as a dark and reddened shaped of shattered evil.

--Thats...defenetly a good start-- The gunslinger breathed out-- May! -- the earth shook, kicking up like a jittery whirlwind that sucks in debrie and dust around.

Followed by the spectral neigh of the mare that brings with her a show of beautiful dancing purple flames that pulls the Grass in a well of gravity. The air grows thick with tension that would bring the heart of any non-rider to their throat, making them feel an adrenaline so pure that they would simply become a trembling,feral mess.

As she jumps from the very boughs of the earth,Mayhem the white horse of frenzy tears through the fabric of reality. She runs past her rider and slowly lowers her speed so she can safely trot Back to her master's side.

Mayhem shakes her snout,inspecting Death with an odd tilt of her head as she blinks slowly at the pale rider with confusion. But she doesnt linger, she then turns to Fury and lets out a pitiful neigh.

Within her, Fury feels Rampage squirm at the sadness of his kin. The she-horseman reaches to pat the snout of Mayhem and Gently shooshes her-- He's still too weak to ride. But he Will be fine-- she said softly,the mare closing her eyes and pressing her ears flat to her head.

--He'll be fine-- strife tried not to linger his gaze on the face of the eldest. Its been so long since his actual features could be seen, up until now his face was but a fuzzy memory from childhood. -- C'mon up, Fury. I'll lend you my ride.

With ease he hops on Mayhem's saddle, patting the neck of the mare as a brief comfort. He then offers his hand to his sister,who takes it and gets on behind him.

Strife chuckled to himself and said--Hey whens the last time I gave you a ride? Werent you like...ten? I piggyback carried you to the kitchen didnt I?

--You did-- Fury mused,sniffing Back some of the emotions that still clung to her eyes and soul-- If I recall correctly,I called you squire.

The gunslinger scoffed-- wouldnt be the first time-- he half joked-- Wish I still had my Abyssal armor though,thats such a perfect set up for a knight joke.

With a barked out laugh,the she-Horseman says-- Hm,you've always been a knight to me. I dont see why you would hold back a joke,so unlike you.

Strife eyed Death who watched on with something akin to amusement and subsided endearment. He needs to re-learn how to read him. But still,his unhidden gaze tempers his wit and he just shrugs-- Ah,forget it. The moments passed anyway.

Faintly both hear the eldest snicker before whistling lowly. A sound so puposely horrible that it sets their teeth on edge, even as quiet as it was it remains shrill And withered like a screech from a mournful banshee.

Both wondered what it would happen if he whistled at the top of his lungs.

Yet their thoughts are cut short as theres a loud espectral neigh, behind the pale rider a Mass of blue flames emanates as Despair makes himself known. His Fire Withers the Grass in its path,sucking the life out of them and leaving the vegetation riddled with something akin to frostbite.

Unforgiving winter in his cold flames, he emanates from the ground,bringing with him the smell of sweet Decay yet so glacier cold that it burns the breath of the two younger nephilim.

Despair's hoove pads at the ground and nuzzles the chest of his rider with surrender and relief. Death Gently pats the stallion's head and hops on.

--Shall we?--The eldest asked.

Strife nodded and clicked his tongue at his Mare who begins to trot towards the spire beyond. Silence settles, yet it doesnt dampen the odd tangle of secrets and unspoken information in the air- the gunslinger is defenetly missing something.

Whatever it is, its eating at him already. First, the hug. Whatever the hell has gotten into the eldest?. His mask is gone, that stupid piece of bone is gone and now the white rider can stare with dread and fear at the face of the eldest. Its been so long, he cant reconcile the sweet memories of his brother's face to the bitter ones that were carried by the mask thats Now seemingly lost somewhere.

Neither of the three comment on the lack of spoken word, clearly each of their individual journeys has taken a toll on them. Who gets to speak first? Whats the most important thing to be said? Theres no way to decide,no way to gauge who has had it worst.

Yet if the gunslinger had to guess, Death would be the one to talk first. There has always been an air of mystery to the reaper in his cold detachment, but now he feels more like a myth than a Man.

A sigh leaves strife,louder than he intended to. He flinches as the attention is now on him.

--Something on your mind,Brother?--Death asked,seeing his Real lips say those words makes the white rider freak out internally.

His brother,his guide and lighthouse. The reaper,kinslayer and butcher with his cold,hard shoulder and dismissive attitute. The dichotomy was going to kill him.

--Nuthin' that Will help us-- he said,shrugging-- Y'know me,always thinkin' about silly shit.

The eldest Snickers with genuine warmth,hes conciously slipping up and it only confused the gunslinger further-- While it is true that you're known for your lack of sense,you never hesitated to share. Whats the difference does it make now?

Strife tried so hard to get angry at his brother,before it came so naturally to him but now...he had to conciously find a reason to get angry-- Jus' forget it,okay?-- his voice sounded filled with ire, but its all hollow. Theres no Real intent to bite,theres barely any intent to bark. -- I told you,nuthin' that Will help us.

Behind him,Fury stirrs. Hes so bad at hiding his turbulence from his siblings and specially Fury who knows what to look for. Yet she doesnt say anything and simply pats his arm, telling him quietly to simmer down.

Death let the matter rest, and with yet another dreadful whistle he sent Dust to scan ahead. Were there still demons and angels in the barren earth? This world is nothing but overgrown ruin and forgotten civilizations sundered.

Its a miracle theres still birds to sing and chirp like they've always done. Filling the sunny day with life even if humanity was not there anymore,Wether by the hand of Demise or the saving of maker and she-horseman.

--I...met Angie and Gabrielle-- Fury added a few minutes into their ride-- You sung her our lullaby?

Strife tensed up,ready to feel the scrutinizing gaze of the eldest. What he gets instead is a smug,curious look that still doesnt ease his mind.

--Well uh...its always worked-- He excused, voice a little shaky-- I dont see the issue in it.

--theres none-- she admitted,a little amused at how on edge he was-- Just curious,brother.

--Had to put her to sleep somehow. She has more energy than War when he tried sugar for the first time-- Strife dismissed,trying to shift the attention from him. He doesnt want his vulnerability to be judged by Death's words like hes grown so used to.

Hes quite surprised the pale rider hasnt said anything yet.

--Oh by creator,dont remind me-- Fury said with disdain-- Didnt we knock him out with the Hilt of a maze?

Strife chuckled--We did! I still think that was overkill,though.

--It worked,didnt it?--his sister replied with a laugh to her tone-- He slept for a week afterwards.

--And thank god for that,I couldnt handle so much energy-- the gunslinger answered.

--So much for the spirit of eternal unrest. --She teased

--Ooookay!--He raised a finger-- Lissen' that was waaaay before we became horsemen. I wont let you make me responsible for a title I didnt even have back then!-- his voice cracks just a tiny bit-- And besides! Im the spirit of eternal unrest, not the spirit of eternal sugar rush!

The comment makes his sister burst into loud laughter. She throws her head back and holds her ribs. Something in Strife calms at the sound,always happy to make his sister laugh. Its such a beautiful sound.

--I wonder if he still has that same intolerance!--exclaimed the black rider.

Death snarled-- I am not dealing with that.

--Me neither-- strife agreed-- its your bull to wrangle.

Fury shrugged--My own personal show,then.

--Your funeral-- the gunslinger corrected under his breath. A sugar rushed,grown War sounds like the stuff of nightmares right about now.

--Last time he lost control he almost cleaved you in half-- Death prodded with unhidden amusement.

The black rider shrugged-- he already apologized for It. The past is the past

Strife Turned in utter confusion-- Excuse me? I know he didn' do it on purpose but d'you know how unhinged you sound sayin' you'll forgive a near decapitation?

Fury snickered-- Ive grown a sense of humor,brother. Get used to it. Or are you begining to lose yours?

--Oh fuck right off!--He chided,turning Back to face the road-- 'm just sayin' it sounds crazy.

--You've said crazier-- she bickered back, unaware of the fondness that held the gaze of the eldest rider.

Death has missed this so much. Hes almost inclined to snicker,but he didnt want to Interrupt this very amusing battle of Witts. Ah,hes only missing the popcorn.

The gunslinger scoffed with a bit of annoyance,feeling more pressed than a panini-- Yeah,like what?

Fury thought for a few seconds,trying to remember a concrete example. --When you were at Belials dam in hell. You told war "we need you just shy of raging uncontrollable chaos or you might lose another arm"

--I...fine. ill give you that one.

Death couldnt help himself and let out a few chuckles. He gains an odd look from his siblings and says-- You two truly havent changed. I still remember you two bickered like this when we got our horses.

The she-horseman narrowed her eyes at the reaper like a discontent cat-- Then you proceeded to jump into the raging stampede. You have no place to talk.

--Hm...perhaps-- Him? Admitting defeat?. Strife was going to lose his shit.

Yet the gunslinger doesnt comment on it, he allows the moment to pass and he looks down at the ground with confusion and grief. Hes been worrying, gruellingly so. And now he shows up,face uncovered and acting so..cheerful.

Death.Cheerful...those are two words he would never think of stringing together in one sentence. Until now, that is.

It eats at him, he recalls all his sleepless nights wondering if he would lose the eldest to his mourning. He doesnt feel strong enough to ask,hes grown so accustomed to the reaper's cutting Words that now he cant concede the idea of actually talking to him.

Hes paralyzed by fear. An instinct telling him he Will be mocked and dismissed like Many times before. He wonders what must have happened for him to change so suddenly. Did he even want to know?

And what was he missing with Fury and Death? Theres a certain sadness in her eyes yet relief when she stares at the eldest of their kin. Did she reach out to him like she did with him? What did they talk about?

The gunslinger horseman wished War was here with them. The youngest had a knack for observation and insight. With his cool mind he would be able to tell,hes sure of it.

Until the red rider showed up,he would have to live with the tension in the air. An unspoken issue that still needed to be tackled, an issue that made Strife linger his gaze on the pale rider.

Beside wanting to memorize his face in case that mask comes back on,he also wanted to see how much hes changed. Death never said anything if he noticed. And his firey gaze had mellowed out into a dancing flame like the one in a fireplace.

The reaper "mellowed out" . It really is the end times,isnt it?. At least so it felt to the second oldest horseman,he picked at the situation day in and day out.

He saw his brother act in a way hes never seen before...

No. Thats a lie. Hes seen this behavior before,in the pale rider's youth when he only upheld the title of brother.

What had his journey shown him?

And what was Fury not telling him?

Strife pondered all this as night began to settle. They were in the middle of a barren city,taking refuge within one of the broken down appartment buildings. Around the first floor for easy escape and a good vantage point.

He lays there on an old,probably moldy sofa that he doesnt fit in. His legs hang and rest unconfrotably against the old stone floor thats overgrown by greenery.

Beside him a small fireplace burnt,one that Fury had set up and was currently allowing a kettle to simmer. He figured that after a hundred Years of living with humanity,she had grown attached to their customs. And honestly, the Four had always a bit of a fondness for such drinks.

Yet his ears keenly listen to a hushed conversation that Death and Fury are having outside of this run down appartment.

--I..havent told him-- came the voice of the she-horseman-- I dont think he felt you...

Death sighed and he could hear the shake of his head-- no matter. I dont believe he Will take it well. Neither Will War.

--I didnt feel you either. Not until I reached out-- She sounded confused,mournful. Its such an odd thing to be witness to- shes usually headstrong and sure of herself.

--I dont believe the Council wouldve liked us finding out about those kinds of things. They must have meddled somehow.

--How dare they?--Theres such a primal anger to her growl-- not even the decency to let us know...

--It wouldve raised alarms,sister-- the reaper answered,patting her shoulder-- No matter now. -- then he made a brief pause--...are you alright?

Fury scoffed-- No. --she then sighed,sounding Like she was deinflating as she calmed down-- How do you want me to be? After everything...-- she trailed off-- the pain just never ends for us,does it?

Death let out a low breath-- by our hand,it Will. Nevertheless,sister, I Will not expect you to be your usual self. I dont believe neither of us four are of clear mind at this moment.

--You'll find us all changed,brother.

Theres no hesitation in the reaper's voice as he says-- changed or not,we're still four horsemen united. Still we remain kin. Perhaps thats the only thing that wont change.

Strife heard the clink of armor against armor,he guessed Death hugged Fury. Or the other way around- he couldnt really tell.

Then his siblings returned to their camping spot. The she-horseman tended to the tea and Death stood there with his arms crossed and looking at the gunslinger with an actual amused smile(small, but still there).

--I pity the state of your spinal column.-- he tapped his index finger against his bicep expectantly.

--Psht, its a social construct-- he half joked,hoping that his lack of enthusiasm doesnt slip through.

Its been like this since the begining,Strife is devoid of witt and bite. Hes never quiet,unless something is bothering Him. Like when he found that dagger in Mammon's hoard.

He would rather not think about It, hed has enough of a bitter taste in his mouth. He centers on the faint chittering of cicadas And grasshoppers that begin to sing to the night Sky that remains unchanged with the moon shining bright.

The gunslinger's gaze gets lost in the dancing Fire,trying to make sense of his feelings. He is relieved that Death is alright,hes been worrying for milennia. Theres a joke in the situation that the reaper didnt give any signs of life but he really isnt in the mood for humor right now.

He cant pretend nothing has changed,and still his stupid face stares back at him. The strong features and now kind eyes remind the white rider of the nicer memories with the eldest,he hates it.

Enough was enough and he wasnt ready to reconcile the image of the perfect,protecting brother to the merciless kinslayer. It reminds him that a lot of the pain hes felt after the massacre was thanks to the hands of Death.

Yet anger cant seem to get a grasp on him,a part of him does understand that neither were the same after the siege of Eden. But why was he so cruel? So needlessly cutting.

No,he cant come back to play house without an apology.

Will he even get an apology?

--Strife...--Comes the firm voice of Fury as she hands him a Cup.

--Wha..?--He muttered,looking up to see the mug with steaming tea. He sighs and sits up,taking the cup in his hands and realizing soon he recognizes the craftmanship-- these are Gabrielles...

--Yes. She let me take them with me--The female nephilim answered-- Angie was specially happy to lend them after I told her i'd be seeing Jones too.

The white rider looked impressed-- Wait,does she know...?

--I had to tell her eventually-- Fury noted how...coy he looked. It was an adorable sight-- she really likes you.

Strife felt his face redden. Death didnt need to know about all this.

--Who is this Angie you speak of?--smug,smug old bag of bones and dust...

Fury scoffed and sent a malicious look to the second eldest who sinks against the couch and begins to dissociate as his face burns with shame. He is never living this down.

Death looks amused, wondering If some of his older brother habits rubbed off on the second eldest. He chuckled and said-- I see the resemblance with War...or is it William?

The gunslinger sets the mug on his lap and puts his hands on the eye part of his mask. He sighs loudly and says-- fury...I hate you...so much...

A laugh is the answer he gets-- Its adorable, brother--Fury takes a sip of her tea,just about to combust from how funny the image of his brother being flustered is. --She only says good things about you.

Death chuckled lowly,looking at his brother-- You've got a fan,strife. -- he teased.

Strife pointed at his eldest and said-- You. Zip. It.

The sound that comes Next stuns both of the younger riders. Its a sound that they've seldomed, something that they might have heard in a dream or a childhood memory- the origin is uncertain, which only floors them further.

From deep within the pale rider's gut, reverberating against his narrow diaphragma and his sinewy throat...Death laughs quite loudly and bares a fanged smile at his younger sibling.

Both siblings exchange a look of...surprise? Horror? Neither know but Fury just joins in the laughter out of either sheer desbelief or unbridaled joy. She throws her head back,her laughter growing a little deeper and scratching her throat at the shift in position of her traquea.

Yet Strife's hands begin to shake,his breath is uneven and his world began to swirl. He hurriedly sets down the cup and all but runs out of the appartment in a huff.

His eyes Sting with tears ,and he has to go to the floor underneath their camping spot and find a dark corner to curl into himself. His helmet gets torn off and he begins to heave in his breath.

Light does his chest begin to feel,pressure lowering and his eyes Rolling back into his head, yet he still cries. His whole body shakes like an unstable earthquake,and his throat feels like its scratched by a feral,scared animal trying to get out.

Water streaks down his cheeks and chiseled jaw, his lightly scarred lips quivering and his nostrills flare with each breath that burns his lungs as he cries.

The disconnect between both faces of his brother was breaking his mind in two. How could the same brother that was his lighthouse be the responsible for his pain all those milennia back?.

He cries, realizing now that his child self is begining to catch up to all the trauma and pain that Death has caused. His whole world is about to just fall and shatter as conciousness wavers between abandoning Him and staying.

Memories begin to mix,old and New,good and bad. His brother,the kinslayer,his role model,the butcher. Its all so,so much.

Strife put his hands on his face,clawing at his scalp to try and ground himself. He cries and tries to Keep silent and yet the beast within him,that wounded Child,wants nothing more than to scream and growl.

He spent the night Cooped up in that dark corner crying. Hes seldomed his siblings and the cup of tea that his sister has so kindly brewed for him.

Meanwhile at their camp,Fury begins to settle and see that her brother is not there. She tilts her head and asks-- was he..that angry?

Death narrows his eyes at the spilt cup of tea on the sofa and sighs-- not..angry. -- he raised a hand as his sister tried to stand up-- leave him alone. I dont think its wise to go out looking for him...you know how unstable his emotions are

Fury huffed,sitting down-- I just...I dont understand what is up with him.

The eldest rubbed his face with exhaustion. He underestimated how closed off Strife would be--I dont think he can move on,nor do I blame him. Ive been...awful,to say the least-- he gave his sister a reassuring look-- we'll find him in the morning. Neither of us can handle this right now.

With a sad nodd,the she-horseman went to a quiet corner herself and hoped that her gun-slinging sibling didnt do anything stupid. Death simply stared at the flame,knowing theres a lot of hard work ahead of him. And he knows hes going to hate it,mainly because he Will have to actually show emotions.

But he wanted that second chance and he got it,so he better do good on his word.

He did tell his sister to not meddle,but he does want to make sure that Strife is okay. Dust seems to pick up on this because the rebel corvid flies down to the hiding spot.

The gunslinger tries to Gently shove the bird back,but the crow is quite insistent and cuddles on the horseman's shoulder. He sighs and relents, at least he has this anchor.

Morning came soon.And when Strife appeared outside already on mayhem, Fury went to hop on the Mare and lean on her brother reassuringly. A brief touch but a show that she had worried.

He shook his head dismissively--Im fine.

--Youre not-- she said lowly,decisively and firmly. But she doesnt pry further.

Death sees his brother avoid his gaze, and this time he doesnt whistle to call for his steed. Simply he does a hand gesture and hops on the saddle quickly, sending Dust ahead to scout.

Yet before he obeys the commands of his master, the corvid settles on the white rider's shoulder and begins to preen off a few hairs with gentle care.

Strife snorts loudly and doesnt shrug off the bird. Hes also glad that his eldest of kin doesnt comment on it, Fury does though.

--thats how he shows he cares-- she said lowly for her saddle companion to hear.

--He can come and talk to me like an adult--The gunslinger ignored the hypocrisi in his statement. He could go and talk to him too.

After that,he Gently kicks the side of his steed and both stallions begin to ride forward to that accursed spire looming over earth.

This unrest he feels lingers for days. Strife wasnt sure what he was feeling, was it relief? Horror? Fear?. He didnt know what his emotions were doing,he was scared shitless and for the first time in his life he is unable to put his brother on a place that feels right.

First he could say that he admired and loved his brother,then that he couldnt stand him and yet still he worried. Now he didnt even know if he should talk to him,or talk back.

--Dust has seen some tracks that look like Ruins-- Commented Death,trying to prod his brother to talk-- Do either of you know what happened to War?

--He was casted to the abyss--Fury seemed to know,strife doesnt even react. He had his ways of knowing but still the idea of his baby sibling suffering such fate stabbed his heart.

Not that he would let it show.

--Only that?-- Asked the eldest,disturbed at how his once witty brother now seems lost with his gaze on the floor. Hes almost allowing Mayhem to set the path and route,at least the mare does try to follow along with their plan.

--Sadly,yes. I could try and reach out again-- the sister proposed-- Easier to find him if we just ask...

Death began to see the golden hour set in. He nodds and says-- We'll find a place for you to safely reach out to War. -- he then tried to Gently nudge the calf of his brother with his foot. Emphasis on the gentle part-- Is that okay with you,Strife?

The gunslinger seemed to blink out of his stupor. Unaware of the pained look of his sister behind him,what a horrible state to see him in.-- huh?wha- Sure. Whatever-- He murmured,breathing sharply and trying to save face.

Death flinched a little and drifted his gaze to the dark spot that was dust against the Pink and purple Sky. The colors swirl together and like melted honey they mingle. Its been beautiful day so far.

As planned they find a safe enough spot. An old greenhouse thats been largely overgrown by now. And near a park with a recornizable enough statue, woman with a fruit basket.

They hope the easily recognizable landmark helps the youngest rider to find their camp spot.

Fury goes to a quiet spot but as she passed the eldest she gripped his forearm hard,strong enough to dig her taloned gauntlets on the metal armor of her sibling.

--talk. To. Him. Now. -- she growled- no,demanded. -- I wont spend one more day with him like this.-- her hair flares a bright yellow,he recognizes the power of the Fire hollow. And he sees a few glimmers of purple in her hair as the force hollow allows her to sink her nails into his armor further only to prove and solidify her Point.

With a silent sigh he nodded and felt himself shoved a little with anger.

He goes to find his brother who stands before an overgrown pond. Hes looking down at his own reflection,the helmet Next to his pistols a few meters back. The golden hour makes his spiky hair look like a jagged eclipse with a ring of Orange lines.

Silent steps approach the gunslinger and he then says--Strife...we must talk.

--What is there to talk about?-- His brother answered,voice flat.

--The matter of why Ive been behaving the way that Ive been-- he stands beside his brother,looking at the face of his younger of kin. Hes also missed being able to see his face.

Perhaps without their masks,they can finally talk.

--I need you to understand that what I did, I did for War-- He began, his hands tightening into fists and then relaxing like hes a jittery cat. -- I visited the crowfather, and fought him. The amulet shattered and embedded itself in me.-- the recalling of those memories isnt pleaseant,but he must Keep going-- to resurrect humanity, to erase the crime,I had to make a sacrifice. I...threw myself into the well of souls. To exchange the nephilim for humanity.

--...so you died?-- his voice carries no life,no witt,no snark,no rebellious undernote or teasing remark.

--yes--death tries to be soft in the way he speaks,he recalls the way he used to Lower his voice and quieten his pronounciation. With a bit of ease,he slips into his old role as brother-- and before I did,I remembered our childhood. And I realize now that i...-- he hisses out a sigh-- Ive done Many things wrong..

He sees strife blink back into conciousness-- Yeah?

Okay, hes defenetly not hearing the end of this. Ever. But he is no stranger to making sacrifices for his siblings.

--Indeed,and I have hurt you all in ways my younger self would be horrified to know about. -- he sighed loudly and put a hand on his sibling's shoulder--And for all the titles ive beared,the only one I cared for, the only one I havent been able to uphold has been the title of Brother. I....am sorry. For all the pain I've put you through.

Strife Turned to face his brother. Expression confused and eyes widened to the point they might pop out of their sockets.

--You...are such an asshole!--he chided.

Death snickered and nodded--Indeed. Ive..been nothing short of awful. But I wish not to lose another brother,and yet another part of my soul.

The gunslinger snorted.Begining to cry and having to bite back a fanged grin that ultimately,hes unable to restrain. His tears look like Fire in the golden hour glow,and his eldest of kin Gently wipes them away.

--Would you throw yourself into a well for me?--He asked,showing a bit of his humor.

With a snicker,the reaper says-- of course -- he keeps wiping away the tears-- remember when you came back home late?

--You...wiped off the dirt on ma face--Strife recalled,feeling himself slowly return to his usual self. Thats all he needed to hear-- n tended to my wounds.

--I never felt...--He struggled to hold the eye contact,but managed to do so if only because he knows the gunslinger Will never forgive him if he chickened out now.

--C'mon,asshole,spit it out.

--So...scared of losing you-- he finally finished,feeling a bit of annoyance at the disrespectful remark. But he was in no spot to be picky-- The same way I...made sure we all returned from Eden. And having...died, showed me a lot of things.

A scoff left the white rider,he nodded along and his grin never wavered-- was that so hard?

Death snorted and shook his head-- you absolute blight...-- he said with fondness.

--Hey! You deserve it.

--I do.--Strife roughly hit the side of his brother and snickered at how he flinches.--i bear my heart to you and thats how im repaid?--The reaper teased.

--Now you know how I feel.

--Fair enough

Both stand there in the overgrown garden,a Tiny oasis in this abandoned world. Reminds them both of the forests they would train in,the places they would forage. Returning to their old selves perhaps wasnt so bad.

In the golden hour,Death finally can take in the face of his brother. He missed seeing it, its good to know neither have changed much in appereance.

The eldest sighed loudly and pulled his brother for a tight hug. And this time,Strife didnt fight back and melted into his brother's embrace. The eldest begins to sing a lullaby in nephilim tongue.

Hes never forgotten the words either.

--the sun's gone to rest. The moon above begins to show.

In the clouds lay your head,and hold tight to your Cowl.

And if the cold comes to bite you,nuzzle close to my heart right beside you.

Strife picked up where his brother left off-- night sweet night,of slumber and repair.

Pair with your loved one,as the shadows lumber again.

Safe against my ribs,holding you close to my heart.

And youll find nightmares to be scarce.

When morning comes,and the sun shines bright.

Open the door and play, ever spry.

The light of the sun begins to set,the hug tightens and neither feel the need to pull away. Not anymore.

Meanwhile,Fury sits on the inner part of the greenhouse. The Windows are overgrown and the whole room is dark and its the perfect place for her to zone out and reach for her brother. She worries still that Death Will mess this up,but theres little she can do to fix her eldest's problems.

Its not her responsability to fix it.

She does worry, she finds herself doing that a lot these days. And by now shes just bitten the bullet that she has a tender heart, and always had It.

With a shake of her head she sits on the mossy Grass and puts her hands on her knees as she is currently crosslegged. She has been practicing meditation with the humans,and shes found a few magical uses for it.

A deep breath fills her air with lungs finding the thread that connects the four that they are. A bond that felt like running horses,burning flames, coldest bite, frenzied,bloody and unmoving. But kind,growing and healing.

Its a hectic Line to walk,but Fury has grown accostumed to it and knows where to step now. She holds her breath,hearing the rustle of the wind that moves the vegetation around her.

Lowly,she sings a little lullaby of her own. Like the Cantrip of a spell to focus on a certain horseman,needing not of memories but rather calling to their very Essence.

Shes perfected it along the past months where her yearning for her family has grown exponentially since shes last reached out. she'd never admit to how tailored each verse became,and she would never admit she would read what human poetry was scavenged And saved before creating New Haven as inspiration for rhyme And reason.

Clearing her throat, she allows the words to flow. The Fire hollow ignites and spreads her warmth to the Flora,its Like the magic travels across the mycelium networks. Nature in itself carried an arcane connection like few things in life.

As Death had told her, Life was quite entwined with the ending of all things. Just like she was forever tangled in the thread of her brothers.

--Beyond the smoke,beyond the brimstone.

Hulking does your form become.

Pale red in the thin storm.

Of Fire and desolation thrown. --she can see her brother walking Among an Ashen field,perhaps it was during the battle of eden or one of their countless missions.-- I becon you red rider.

I becon you,my Kin.

My red cladded brother.

Sweet as you've always been.

She breathes out,sending the call out into the world. She finds It grip the mind and attention of War and she finds herself glowing like flame,still using her hollow power. She thought the Fire would help to center her magic, she knew flame was tangled deep within the red rider.

He stands there confused,magic has always escaped him-- sister...hello?

Around them is An ashen battlefield with dark clouds and faint Fire crackling over a storm that threatens to break anytime soon. Corpses around them are blurry,overlapping in details like mixed memories.

The air smells of ash,decay and smoke. Neither seemed to mind,the smell just a part of their lives by now.

--Dont sound so surprised-- She laughed,crossing her arms and tapping her index finger on her bicep. Little thing she got from Death.

--Your magic escapes me-- he chided,a little embarassed at sounding so caught off guard-- But its good to see you. You heeded my call?.

--Always...-- she said softly with a fond smile-- We are in a greenhouse. I Belive we're near an old plaza,grand. Broken statue of a woman with a basket of fruits.

War remained silent,the cogs clearly turning in his head as he slowly finds the place and the route to get there. --I believe I know the place. Shant take long,a days ride away.

--Dont overwork your horse,Will you brother?--she asked teasingly.

The youngest rider laughed--Will try not to-- He snickered and then returned to his serious demeanor. A little soft,and concerned-- How is Rampage faring?

Fury's smile Turned silken and gentle-- He's...reccuperating well. I feel him grow stronger every day.

--Perseverent and enduring. Much like you, sister.

She giggled-- Thank you,brother. How is Ruin?

--Hes doing well, the time with the demons still haunt his mind. But not as often,hes returning to his self.

--Good to hear--Fury Turned behind her,hearing a soft windchime that ends with the Roaring of a flame-- Ill dissapear soon. Come find us.

War nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to the forehead of his sister's apparition before both are pulled from this pocket dimention back to their bodies.

Fury does laugh at the gentle gesture,endeared at the unlikely softness of War. She stretches and takes a few minutes to shake off the strain this spell usually caused,and to give her brothers more time to reconcile.

She lingers for ten more minutes before standing up and walking to the garden. She finds the brothers hugging and just pulling back when she fully reaches the entrance to the place they are in.

Death pats the shoulder of his sibling,purpousely tripping Him into the pond,its easily 6 foot deep. He then turns to Fury,unbothered-- well?

--He'll be here tomorrow night,probably-- She answered-- if he takes longer,Its my fault. I dont want Ruin to be overworked.

--Good enough-- he nodded approvingly,crossing his arms over his chest and Gently tapping his index finger on his bicep--You seem tir-- his sentence is cut short when Strife yanks him by the back of his crusty,dusty,stinky purple cowl into the pond.

The pale rider stumbles into the cool water,letting out a curse in nephilim tongue and goes to fight his brother in the water. His black hair sticks to his face and he bites on It a little in the rustle And toussle of the fight.

And to add insult to injury,Fury calls upon her stasis hollow and throws a ball of freezing ice into the makeshift water feature. It freezes them in spot and she laughs loudly as shes deathglared by her kin.

--You two are like dogs-- she justified with no convincing tone that what she did was fair. She walks past them,sticks her tongue out and goes to find a patch of beautiful orchids to gaze at and take just a few blooms for herself. She freezes a few of the seeds and flowers,setting them in her bag for humanity when she eventually returns.

And they stay the night,there. The brothers do break from their icy Bonds and chase after their shit stirrer sister. For the first time in milennia,they feel like children again in their little chasing game and harmless sparring.

It ends with Fury in the pond,as Strife laughs loudly and Death watches on in smug content.

-♡-

The day waiting for War is spent in quiet storytelling. Drinking tea, and finally telling eachother about their journeys across realms and even...Time.

--Of course you get time jumping shit!--Strife chided,thoroughly offended. His voice cracks and he drinks what has to be his third cup of tea.

--Jealous much,brother?-- Death asked,nursing his fourth cup of tea as the afternoon settles above them. They rest in the cool shadow of the overgrown,dark greenhouse.

--Piss off!-- He chided again, pointing accusatorily at him-- gimme! Hand it the fuck over!

--In your wildest dreams,brother-- the eldest answered,smug as always and his face not hiding the utter contentment because of his kin's dismay.

--And you get hollows?!--He asked to fury. Shes also not exempt from his jealousy-- C'mon!!! Its not fair.

The she horseman snickered,seeing his brother In the lowlight of their campfire reminds her of the times they would spend the nights in candelight and tell eachother stories back when both were young.

--You mustve gotten something fun,im sure-- his sister said.

Strife sniffed, looking at the Fire and losing his train of thought in the process-- Last cool thing I got was the Void Bomb,An Aether Spark too. But I left it hidden. That power is not good in my hands

Death raised a brow-- And then you complain about having nothing...fun.

--If the creator ever decides t'send me on a fun lil' adventure of my own through time n' space ill let you know-- He snickered,a joke only to himself. He turns to something the others cannot see,and winks.

Fury rolled her milky white eyes and smacks her brother out of his otherworldly stupor-- idiot...--She bit with a smile--I'm telling you right Now this tea had nothing special.

--Y'know I do have one cool gift but I wont tell you-- He snickered,setting the empty cup on the Grass and he laying down-- 'nyway. Shut up. 'M takin' a nap.

He puts his helmet over his eyes like an ill-feeting cowboy hat and uses his arms as pillows. His back pressed against the soft moss.

The she-Horseman checked his cup just for good measure and shrugged at her brother who does a dismissive hand gesture. They resume their conversation

in a low tone as to not disturb Strife who got really bitchy if hes interrupted in his rest.

-♡-

When night comes,they Hear the clobbering of heavy hooves and meet their hooded brother out on the street. War seems a bit on edge,wondering how much do his siblings know. And if they believe him a traitor.

No animosity has been detected in his brief interactions with Fury though, which eases his nerves.

--Brothers...sister--He called out,not hopping off of Ruin just yet-- Theres much to talk about.

As if able to sense his worry,Strife says-- The council sucks ass. Whats New? --He has his helmet tucked between his forearm and rib. He smiles a fanged grin and adds-- Death here threw himself into a well of souls for you and to bring back humanity. Fury convinced Ulthane to help you and I never doubted you. -- he scoffed-- you? Breaking the rules? Pluh-ease.

War sighed with relief,hopping down from his horse. He pats the stallion's neck and dismisses the equine steed back to rest in his pocket dimention.

Death becons his brother closer and Gently dusts off his shoulder pauldron. A habit hes always carried,always a mother hen.--We'll talk in the morning-- the eldest decided,giving a complicit look to the other two siblings.--I believe we all had enoug bad news for a lifetime.

In their heads they get the faintest hint of an idea. And so they bring their sibling within the green house,to the pond that in hindsight it really is 6 foot deep, he'll fit just fine. And with their strength combined (and a bit of Force Hollow shenanigans) they throw their behemoth of a brother into the water.

He screeches at the sudden coolness before he looks at the three with the eyes of a kicked,betrayed puppy. His white eyes just widen and his lips part,and then prank clicks instantly. Their laughter wont last long.

And thats how they know they have messed up,as his eyes fill with determination.

War yanks his siblings by grabbing the three in a waist hug and throwing them into the pond with him. Laughing along at their dismay

The night is filled with the joyful laughter of the horsemen. And when theyre done horsing around, they all huddle in the darkened interior of the greenhouse and sit around the Fire with warm tea and content looks in their faces.

Death keeps watch for the night as his siblings rest with their weapons nearby. He sighs and with a smile In his face he feels like hes finally fulfilling his Word.

Kinslayer no more,Brother from now on.

[nnaminxz]

“𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝕲𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖘 𝕯𝖔𝖓’𝖙 𝕮𝖗𝖞“

↳ 𝔰𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔯𝔲 𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔬

⤑ 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut & angst

⤑ 𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: if the saying is “misery loves company” why isn’t Suguru happy right now?

⤑ 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰: Gojo Satoru slander I’m sorry but I had too, I love him very much tho, sad feelings, sad reader, suguru is kind of ass too, maybe a lil ooc but it’s fanfic so don’t attack me, vaginal sex, riding, the ending may be dumb but it’s whatever, minors dni

⤑ 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: I wrote this for an another fandom a WHILE ago and always wanted to redo it so I thought why not redo it for my first jjk fic. I hope you guys enjoy this is my first time posting for this fandom so I’m vv nervous/excited. Pls be kind

Suguru always thought this would make him happy.

Seeing you around campus with Satoru made him angry enough, so he just knew that when the inevitable happened and Satoru started acting like well—Satoru again the sight was guaranteed to bring much happiness to his heart.

He knew it was sick, that he wanted to see whatever you and Satoru had going on fail but Suguru couldn't help it.

None of it mattered though because it didn’t happen.

Suguru sat in the same place for two hours watching the two of you—waiting for the feeling of bitter happiness to fill his bones but it never came.

In fact, it was the exact opposite.

Watching you fight to get Satoru’s attention made him sad. Seeing how no matter what you did he would rather pay more attention to everyone else made Suguru angry. And watching you finally leave the room and the other boy not even bat an eye made him furious.

If he was truly surprised or even thought the other boy would care, Suguru would’ve went over to him and said something but it wasn’t worth it. Satoru was just like him.

An idiot.

A dumbass.

They couldn’t tell when they had a good thing even if it’d slapped them across the face.

“Where you going?” Haibara questions as Suguru stands to his feet.

“Need a smoke,”

“Ah,” The other boy nodded his head. “Are you having fun?”

Suguru decides to lie again. The happiness on his friends face to pure to ruin with his sour mood.

“I told you coming out tonight would be a good idea.”

“Yeah,” Suguru fakes a grin. “I’ll be back.” He took the pack of cigarettes out his pocket waving them before walking away.

Suguru easily maneuvers his way through the thick crowd until he was standing on the back porch. The screen door shut with a thud causing you to swiftly snap around. There was a hopeful and expectant look on your face but when you saw it was him all that fell as you turned back around.

“Well, hello to you too,” Suguru jokes trying to hide the actual physical pain he was feeling in his heart.

That used to be him you were so eager to see.

“What do you want?” You huffed softly.

“Needed a smoke.”

The way you turned to look at him with such concern almost made Suguru laugh. Here you were angry at him, going through your own shit, and still somehow harbored enough care to be concerned with his health.

“I though you quit?”

Suguru plops down next to you pulling the carton out his pocket flipping the cap open. “I did.” He says showing you the empty pack..

“You carry around an empty pack?”

“It’s a good way for me to make an exit,”

You left out a long sigh. “I looked that pitiful huh?”

“You don’t look pitiful. He just looks stupid.”

Though you didn’t say anything back you didn’t need to for Suguru to already know what you were thinking. He knew you like the back of his hand and no doubt you were beating yourself up, angry with yourself when in reality you should’ve been focused on the one who deserved it.

“I’m so stupid,” You whisper and its so low that it Suguru wasn’t already so hyper-focused on your very existence he would’ve probably missed it.

“No, you’re not.”

“You told me he was like this.”

“People told you about me and you still gave me a chance,”

“So I am stupid.”

“You’re trusting,” Suguru counters. “You give people the benefit of the doubt.”

“why is it that trusting people always end up looking stupid?”

“because others take advantage of it.”

Something he knew all to well.

You both fall silent again. The only noise filling the space are the sounds of nature and the muffled thumping music that escaped the noisy house. Suguru looks over at you wishing there was something he could to do. Something he could say. Seeing you like this hurt him.

He hated seeing you cry.

He felt like dying when you were upset.

But it also hurt to see you happy so Suguru wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted.

All this shit was so weird. An uncharted territory before you came along.

Every time the screen door would creak open you’d twist around to see if it was him and every time you ended up turning back around in disappointment. As your disappointment grew, so did Suguru’s anger.

You only deserved the best things in life. None of this push and pull, ‘I’m here but around others I’m not’ bullshit.

Suguru was such a hypocrite.

Here he was furious with Satoru when he used to just as much of an asshole to you as well. He too would push and pull right until he pushed you away completely.

“I’m sorry,” He quietly apologizes. If he’d just gotten his act together sooner there would be no you and Satoru. You wouldn’t be sad and he would still have you.

You shake your head softly shushing him. “Not right now please,” You say. “Can you take me home? I just really want to go back home.”

Without saying anything else Suguru nodded. As both of  you were walking to his car you passed a big window. Sadly it was a clear shot to Satoru who now had another girl seated next to him in your place.

Not only had he not noticed your absence but that easily he’d replaced you.

“He’s such a fucking ass.”

“Yeah,” You agree. “Let’s just go,”

Suguru had evert urge to go in there and go off but when he looked back over you were already halfway to his car so he kept it moving. Satoru wasn’t worth it anyway. He was just another dick who thought way too much of himself.

Satoru didn’t deserve you.

Neither did Suguru.

One in the car Suguru sent Haibara a quick message saying he was going home before shifting the car into gear.

As expected the drive was silent. There wasn’t much to say. As much as Suguru wanted to comfort you he didn’t know what to do even if he did you probably wouldn’t want to hear it from him. Why would you?

Suguru knew every route to and from your apartment but decided to take the longest one. If you noticed you didn’t say anything. All you did was keep quiet as you looked out the window.

You stayed that way until he pulled up to you complex. Before getting out of the car you whisper as soft thank you and force a smile.

“yeah, no problem,” Suguru murmurs.

He’s about to pull away when out the corner of his eye he spots your small tube of lip gloss sitting in his cup holder. You had a million of them and even thought you probably wouldn’t even realize this one was missing Suguru still found himself on a journey to your front door.

Who know this could’ve been your favorite one.

The one in the pink tube was your favorite actually.

But Suguru already knew that.

“You left this,” Suguru says once you open the door.

“Thanks,” You mutter grabbing it from his hand. “I have a million in this flavor.”

“I know.”

For the first time tonight a genuine smile filled your lips. It was small and not the one he was used to seeing but for right now it would do. It was better than nothing.

Though your eyes were sad and bloodshot you were still as beautiful as ever to him.

“Please don’t cry over him. He doesn’t deserve your tears.”

“I just want something real,” You say in a small voice your arms wrapping around your body.

“What we had was real.”

“You were just like him.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Suguru adds, his voice wavering as he tries to get out the words. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know,” you say this time.

Suguru is walking away when you call out his name. As soon as he turns back around your lips are on his. He’s shocked for a moment, standing there with wide eyes, but quickly he fall back into your old routine. His heart is pounding so hard against his chest and Suguru wonder if you could feel it as well.

With every kiss he pulls you closer to him. It’s been months since he’d last had you this close and Suguru didn’t want it to end any time soon. He missed this, the soft breaths that escape you, the fruity taste of your lip gloss, the way your hands cradle his face.

Slowly your hands roam from his face to his jacket and then finally when they land on his belt Suguru forces himself to pull away.

Suguru lets out a sigh resting his forehead against yours. “We can’t.” He mutters.

He wanted you but not this way. Not when you were like this.

“Why?”

“You’re….” his voice trails off.

“I’m sober,”

“You’re sad.” He counters.

You give him a shrug. “ I want this. I need this.”

Suguru knows what this was. A rebound fuck. Simply a way for you to get back at Satoru in your mind but couldn’t bring himself to care as he kisses you again. He knows this was going to hurt in the morning but he’d deal with that when it came.

A satisfied moan leaves your lips. “Please,” You beg and Suguru nods, not even needing to know what exactly you were asking for because he already was prepared to give you everything.

Reaching behind him Suguru pushed the front door closed. “Where?” Without saying anything you guided him both over to the couch lightly pushing him down before climbing on top.

You pulled off your dress and without a second thought, Suguru hands find their way to your breast, lifting the mounds out of the cups. His tongue gently swipes over both nipples before picking one to suck on while he twisted the other between his fingers.

“Fuck,” Soft moans escape your plump lips as you arch further into him. “It’s always about him.”

Suguru pulls away for a brief moment and shushes you before taking in the other nipple. He didn’t want to hear about you and Satoru. The thoughts tortured him enough. 

It did bring him a sick satisfaction to know that Satoru was a lazy lover.

“M’sorry,”

“Don’t be. This is just about us right now.”

You nod, pressing your fingers underneath Suguru’s chin as lift up his head so you could kiss him again. Suguru’s hands were everywhere. From your ass to your stomach, your thighs, he couldn’t get enough.

“Touch me,” You command.

Suguru happily listens, his fingers easily finding their way into your panties. You were already so wet. The juices soaking him with just a few movements. His fingers dances across your clit pulling airy groans from your mouth. To him you look so beautiful, your head tossed back, eyes fluttering, as your hips rocks into his fingers.

“Need you in me.”

“Wanna taste you.”

You shake your head, big glossy needy eyes focused on him. “Next time maybe.”

His heart jumps at the words ‘next time’. Suguru really hopes there is a next time. Not even for the sex. He just wanted you.

You lift up allowing Suguru the room to pull his pants down. After pulling your own panties to the side you grab his cock and align it before sinking down.

Groans leave both of your mouths and before Suguru can even collect his thoughts you began to bounce up and down. Suguru isn’t even sure were to focus. Your bouncing breast, the perfect contortions of your face, or the lewd scene between your legs.

He leans forward and takes your nipple into his mouth again. You felt so good. So wet. So warm. The tight grip on his hair only sending more pleasure through his body while you alternate between bouncing and grinding. Your eyes were closed and you weren’t focused on anything but yourself.

You were using him but none of that mattered.

“Suguru,” you whine, finally looking at him. “feels so good. It feels so good.”

“Only ever want to make you feel good y/n,”

 Suguru says it so quietly that he wasn’t even sure you’d heard or if you did you’d understood what exactly he meant but when your eyes began to water again Suguru knew you had.

You hide your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. When your hips began to falter in pace Suguru knows your close. Once your pussy tightens and your legs begin to shake, Suguru lets himself fall apart too.

You both stay like that. Breathing labored wrapped in each other's arms not saying anything. You stay that way until he hears your little sniffles and feels the tears falling onto his shoulder.

“Don’t cry. Pretty girls don’t cry.”

“Then stop making me.”

[hanniebread]

what comes must go. yoon jeonghan

warnings. mentions of tuberculosis as well as terminal cancer, bittersweet sort of ending, kind of angsty and sad.

wc. 1.9k

an. i wrote this in thirty minutes while listening to radiohead so it's pretty meh, but i wanted to post it regardless lol. also i'm really nervous to put this out there because i've never actually published anything before so i genuinely have no clue if this is even worth posting or not... please try to enjoy regardless umm thats all

everything happens for a reason. over time jeonghan had grown to be painfully aware of that fact, being fed the phrase on a silver platter by his mother throughout his entire life. everything has it’s own purpose, and once it’s done serving it, it goes on to be something more important–something more solemn and dignified.

when a tree dies, it weeps sap before finally resting; though it’s slumber isn’t eternal, as it goes on to become a life source for those around it. some trees take on different purposes, falling to the ground to create a new path for living creatures that may wander towards it. a tree laying over a river to become a bridge is the same as a tree that spreads it’s roots into the ground to become a mother.

in fifth grade, jeonghan’s hamster died. his mother broke the news to him–though she didn’t tell him directly, making up some excuse about his pet going on an adventure to explore that of which he hadn’t had the opportunity to see while he was living in a cage. 

he figured out what really happen two years later, now being old enough to truly grasp the concept of death, though he didn’t shed any tears. jeonghan figured that since everything has a purpose, there must’ve been a reason behind his beloved pets death. there had to be an ulterior outcome, something that let to a happier ending instead of the despondency and disconsolateness you’d feel when envisioning death. it took him a while, but he’d forced himself to accept the fact that he’d never know the real reason, because what comes must go.

in eight grade, just before he’d be sent off to a prestigious high school, jeonghan fell ill with tuberculosis. everything he’d worked for, the education he’d craved throughout his entire life, had been stripped from his hands and thrown out the window with one examination. when the doctors informed him of this, he almost didn’t believe it. everything had gone so well for him, and he’d worked to keep it that way--yet when he reached his highest, he was dropped to his lowest within just a few seconds. 

he found himself unable to grasp the notion, though he knew it was more than that by now, it was his new reality. throughout the healing process, he found himself asking: was god punishing him for being happy? was this meant to happen? did this have a reason behind it? 

by the time jeonghan had become well enough to go home, he’d already missed his entire ninth grade year, shifting into the next without experiencing any of it. he’d recovered well, though he was still too weak to go off to the school he’d imagined himself in since he’d picked up a flier as a child, the school he’d earned the right to attend. he spent his days homeschooling from his bedroom, his eyes becoming droopy and devoid of any light they’d held previously. though he found it challenging to stay optimistic, he remained hopeful–because what comes must go. he knew his pain would leave him, and he knew there had to be a reason behind his suffering. everything happens for a reason. 

in twelfth grade, jeonghan had made a full recovery, and attended  his senior year at school in person. he found himself thinking back to the three years he’d spent by himself, and his chest swelled with gratitude; despite all of the damage it’d done in the moment, he realized that everything he’d gone through had built him into something stronger than he was before. when he was handed his diploma, he realized his mother was right. 

when jeonghan turned nineteen, he began attending harvard. he found himself surrounded by groups of amazing people, his mood almost never dropping–which was a huge contrast to how he’d behaved just years prior. he’d smiled wider than he knew was possible, and though he didn’t want to, in the moment he couldn’t help but remember: everything that comes must go. 

when jeonghan turned twenty, he met you. your presence felt like a breath of fresh air, something that made him forget about the past and the future, allowing him to just live in the moment. as he got to know you, he’d found himself appreciating things around him more than he realized was possible, cherishing every moment for what it was instead of thinking about what it’d be when it became nothing but a memory.

when jeonghan turned twenty-one, he fell for you. loving you came easy, becoming something he’d do subconsciously, almost as if devoting himself to you was as simple as breathing. he found himself behaving as if he was a teenage boy again, giggling at the mere thought of you. he brought you flowers, ones he didn’t even know existed until he’d gone on a tangent trying to find flowers that perfectly suited you, to which he decided were red carnations. 

confessing to you was nothing short of undemanding. he found himself telling you how he felt as if he was stating the obvious, as if it was something so undeniable and simple that you’d have no reason to question it. he spoke the words "i love you." in such a way that it was on par with "i'm alive right now." – something so matter-of-fact that it came straight from his heart and fell right out of his lips. when you’d accepted his feelings, and even returned them, he felt as if he’d just won the lottery. that day he decided he’d live life without worries, letting himself be happy no matter what. living would be easy for him, as long as he had you. 

when jeonghan turned twenty-two, you told him you had terminal cancer.

suddenly, the phrase he’d lived by made no sense to him. everything happens for a reason? that had to be a complete lie. he thought back to what he’d always told himself, ‘everything that comes must go’, and in the moment the phrase felt like a punch to a gut rather than a subconscious reminder. he didn't want you to go, he didn’t want it to happen–and instantaneously, he felt like a child again; like a child battling their own emotions, ones which they can’t control or understand. that day, jeonghan cried himself unconscious. 

it was nothing new that loving you came easy, but loving you on borrowed time felt more tortuous than enjoyable. he tried his best to ignore the fact that your light wouldn’t stay aflame for much longer, but the thought lingered in the back of his head with every glance he took. 

when you were hospitalized, jeonghan visited you every day. he spent every second he could by your side, talking to you, clinging on to the idea that maybe–just maybe you could hear him. he knew this day was approaching rapidly, he knew that you didn’t have much time left, yet every night when he left the hospital, he went home and prayed. he prayed harder than he ever had before, harder than when he attended church every weekend as a child, harder than he had when his mother told him that his father had gotten into a car crash, he prayed until his hands were sore and red from squeezing each other. 

the day before you died, jeonghan brought you red carnations. he’d always visited with flowers, which meant that your hospital room was nearly flooded with them; but he’d never had time to stop and get the ones he truly believed you deserved. anything other than this felt shallow and generic, but he couldn’t explain why. perhaps it was because carnations were the flowers he’d associated with you all this time, it’d become his way of expressing his love to you when you weren’t able to tell him you felt the same anymore. 

on the day that you died, jeonghan felt as if a piece of him had died along with you. nothing could put into words how it felt as he held your hands, which had slowly become cold; his eyes stinging as tears pooled in his eyes and fell on to your empty, unmoving chest.

jeonghan missed you so much it was unbearable. sometimes he’d be so overwhelmed with sadness and grief it felt as if he was going to die, his chest burning as he struggled to breathe. there was no way in hell that this happened for a reason. his mother was wrong, everyone was wrong, everything he lived by was wrong, and he felt so lost that it made him question if he should even seek out help anymore.

the first time jeonghan visited your grave, it was on his twenty-third birthday. he tried to enjoy the day with his friends, which had also been your friends at some point, but he found himself wanting nothing more than to spend the day with you, even if it meant he’d really be by himself. he felt more guilt than he’d imagined as he realized how long he’d waited to visit you, though he knew it wasn’t for the wrong reasons. as jeonghan sat next to your grave, he let himself cry again, the only thing comforting him being the thought that you were there with him. he knew that he had to accept your death eventually, and that nothing in this universe could bring you back, because everything that comes must go. 

that day, jeonghan brought you pink carnations. 

healing wasn’t an easy process, and it didn’t get easier as he progressed in life without you. when jeonghan turned twenty-four, he rented out his first house with a friend you both shared. he adopted a cat, cut his hair, and tried his best to become a new version of him. though it was hard, and he viewed it as nearly impossible, he didn’t give up. despite how cliche and foolish it may sound, he knew you wouldn’t have wanted him to. 

jeonghan knew he’d never think the same after you passed, and that proved to be true. he didn’t blame his mother, he’d never truly blame her, but he found himself so overwhelmed by his feelings that he didn’t know exactly who to point fingers at. in all honesty, if he opened his eyes, he knew that he’d find it to be nobodies fault. “some things just happen,” seungkwan had told him the day he’d cried to his best friend on the couch they’d bought together only recently, his chest heavy with guilt. “whether or not they happen for a reason doesn’t matter, what matters is that you make the best of the situation and enjoy what you have while you have it.” 

spring rolled around quickly. when jeonghan had moved into his new house, he’d noticed small buds of flowers by his window, resting unborn and full of potential as they stared at him, almost expectantly. he didn’t mind, because maybe they’d grow to be something beautiful, something full of life for as long as it’d be alive. maybe they were there for a reason, one he was yet to find out. the thought made a bud of hope blossom in his chest, one much like the dormant flowers sitting almost next to him.

a week later, they blossomed into white carnations; and jeonghan allowed himself to cry once more. he knew they’d close up eventually, retreating back into their shells as the seasons changed, but he found himself thinking: ‘maybe that’s okay. they’re here right now, and that’s all that matters.’

he didn’t let it trouble him, because what comes must go–and if he’s lucky enough, maybe it’ll come back around. 

[strawberryya]

loving you is so easy

Minghao x reader

request: 13, 14, 28 with Minghao ? I think it would be so cute and funny I can’t

13: “my head hurts.” “that’s just your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity.” 14: “Well, my middle finger salutes you.” 28: “Oh god, that was cheesy.”

synopsis: a simple art museum date with your boyfriend along with a very serious arts-and-crafts competition can be exactly what one needs every once in a while.

currently playing: loving you is so easy - HONNE

word count: 2.9k

genre/contains: fluff, mentions of food and headaches, banter and art-talk

rating: sfw, all ages

a/n: helloooo, so I wrote this forever ago and just never posted it TT sorry anon for this slow response!

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

It was amazing, you thought, how a person could have something like this existing solely in their head and then make it appear in our reality, visible to not only oneself but many others for many years to come. In front of you, was a field of tiny flowers on a huge canvas. Stuck in time, forever blooming. 

“I like this one,” you said longingly. 

“I think it captures the sadness of spring very well, it’s good,” Minghao agreed, adding his own interpretation of the painting as well. 

You nodded, not wanting to admit that you hadn’t understood the actual concept until he said it and that you had pretty much just liked the pretty colors used in it along with the feeling it gave you. Of course, the sheep did add to it, placed sporadically throughout the landscape filling the inside of the frame. 

Beside you, Minghao was standing, now turned to you and grinning behind his mask. His giggly voice startled you in your wandering train of thought, “It’s because of the sheep isn’t it?” he asked. You looked at him with wide eyes, your mouth slightly agape behind the mask covering your face. 

“How did you know?!” 

“You had a goofy smile, you always have that goofy smile when you see something cute that interests you,” he said, still giggling as he explained. 

“You can’t even see my face Hao!” you exclaimed, wondering how the hell he had been able to read your mind like that. 

“It’s the same expression you have when you look at me most days…” he teased and turned his gaze back to the framed canvas. 

Giving him a small bump to the side you too turned back to the flower field. “So annoying,” you mumbled, “but yes… I like the sheep…” 

This time it was you who got a small bump to the side, and as you stabilized yourself Minghao bent his head just enough to be able to bump his head with yours. There was no way you could hold onto your forced pout any longer after that. In response, you unraveled the arms you had crossed and let them drop to your sides, the one closest to Minghao’s open and welcoming hand reaching over discretely and embracing it, intertwining your fingers with his and feeling him squeeze your hand. 

You knew what he meant by it, and the butterflies in your tummy fluttered up and warmed you up from the inside. 

The next painting was one that Minghao knew more about. Apparently, it was rather famous, and he spoke about what he knew about the artist and how they were one of the people reimagining how to use the mediums popular during that time. When he was done with that one you continued over to a much bigger canvas, portraying some kind of mermaid. She was rather beautiful you thought, and when you said so Minghao agreed wholeheartedly. 

“She is beautiful, but she also seems so unfulfilled, something in her eyes seems to be longing for something,” he said, articulating things you had only felt but not seen clearly until then. 

You nodded thoughtfully, “At first it looks like she’s staring at the audience, but the more you look the more her gaze seems so distant like she sees right through us and past us into something we can’t even fathom,” you continued, and Minghao seemed entranced by your words, listening to you figuring out what the painting meant to you. 

The two of you continued like this for hours, wandering through the giant rooms decorated and embellished to match the frames and art they housed. Some of the paintings made you reflect and speak about what it could mean. Minghao had more knowledge than you ever thought possible about some of them and you listened to everything he had to tell you about what you were looking at. 

Other paintings you both just looked at, and some you found hilarious. The ones with owls were especially funny to you for some reason, so every time you saw one either in the background of the painting or smack dab in the middle, the person who noticed it first exclaimed a hushed kind of “Owl!” and the other then has to respond with a “Hoo,” and of course, the other is required to say “No, it’s just an owl I don’t know it by name,” making you both giggle and move quickly away from the turning heads wondering what was so funny about the picture that it had you two laughing your lungs out. 

The day had been passing like this and you were starting to feel tired from it all, a headache making its way to your head, causing you to lose more and more interest in the beautiful art all around you. 

“My head hurts,” you said, rather emotionlessly, as you stared at an abstract painting mainly in primary colors that looked a lot like a pile of messy blobs to your tired eyes. 

Minghao assumed you were joking and commenting on the painting and decided to take another playful shot at your statement. 

“That’s just your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity, don’t worry too much about it,” he said, bumping your arm to rile you up and make you fire back your usual retaliations. 

However, you just shook your head, “Hao, I’m serious. It’s pretty bad,” you said as you looked at him, your ailments showing in your eyes; at least to his eye, trained to spot any and all things going through your mind through your face. 

“How long has it been this bad?” he said, his tone shifting into very worried and cupping your face in his hands. 

“It’s been creeping up on me but I didn’t think it would become this bad,” you admitted, making Minghaos eyebrows knit together in worry. 

“Come on,” he said, taking your hand in his again, leading you away from the art in the big rooms, “let’s see if water and food will help, and if it doesn’t we just go home.” 

The theory of you being mainly dehydrated and crashing with your blood sugar was proven correct when you began feeling better immediately after you got something in you along with an entire bottle of water and a second one that Minghao told you that he would be carrying around for the rest of the day just so that this wouldn’t end up happening again. 

When you were done and just sitting and chatting about this and that, the headache was pretty much gone altogether, which was a huge relief since you had wanted to try out a thing they had at this particular museum that you two hadn’t gotten to yet. 

“Should we just wander a bit more and see if we can find something interesting in the ancient sections, or would you rather we start heading home? We could always order in and have a movie night,” Minghao proposed, trying to figure out how you saw the rest of the day going. 

“I actually had a thing in mind that I’ve wanted to do this entire time,” you said, shocking Minghao who had no idea you had something up your sleeve that he didn’t know anything about. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s a surprise!” you said with a sly smile. 

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

You had figured out exactly where the location was when you got to the museum that morning, waiting for the right time to bring him there and surprise him, but walking around had been too much fun that you had kept waiting for the right moment, and here it was. 

In the room you had just entered stood multiple tables set out, some smaller and some bigger, perfect for groups and couples with any number of people. There were children and their parents, couples of all ages, and a couple of friend groups set up at the tables all around the studio. On the empty tables were just simple placemats laid out, waiting for someone to come around and create their art above them. 

Art, yes, art was what you came here for. However, there wasn’t only art made by professional artists in this particular museum. There was also this art that was being made here every day, a new stream of creativity coming alive within this place of ancient relics thorugh ordinary people. 

When you had seen the info about it on their website you had immediately decided that it was something the both of you had to go try out. 

“What do you think?” you asked excitedly, almost jumping in your spot waiting for his reaction. 

“Are we going to make something?” he asked, still not sure where you had led him. 

You nodded, “They have this workshop a couple of days every week and you can choose what you want to do, you can paint with a bunch of different mediums and you can even paint pottery if you want!” 

“Okay, alright, that sounds fun,” he said, looking around the room and the many shelves showing previous visiting artists’ work along with all the materials and tools available for the people coming there to use. 

You were smiling and almost skipping into the room with Minghao after you, “I wanna paint on pottery!” you told your boyfriend. 

“Oh, you’ve already decided? Hmm, what should I do then?” 

With renewed energy, you saw your chance to get back at him for his comment earlier about you being an idiot, and you knew you had to take your shot. 

“Give up. Because you will never make something prettier than the cup I’m going to make.”

It wasn’t a perfect comeback, nowhere close to perfect, but you still felt smug knowing he hadn’t expected you to return to the regularly scheduled teasing so soon after having miraculously recovered through inhaling some water. However, he was glad, which was evident in the way his face crinkled up showing you once again his cheeks rising and crinkling his eyes and telling on his mood while he slowly put up his hands in fists. 

You knew immediately what he was doing when he began slowly backing away while spinning one of his hands, keeping the other still with the back facing towards you as his middle finger slowly rose to flip you off

“Well, my middle finger salutes you,” he said in a teasing tone you both used way too often. 

He was about to back into a table when he turned around while you were both still laughing over your combined childishness. 

“It’s on!” he exclaimed as he went to gather the tools he was planning on using and you headed off to do the same before you both convened at a table for two. 

You with everything you needed for painting your premade mug ready to color however you pleased, and he, with a tiny canvas and a bunch of different paints and brushes that were placed next to the brushes you had brought. 

“Let’s begin,” you said, receiving a wink back from Minghao making you frown in a ‘don’t use those cheap tricks on me mister’ kind of way. 

The next hour or so was spent by the two of you deeply concentrated on your separate projects, occasionally looking up from whatever you were doing to try and catch a sneak peek of what he was working on. Of course, he caught you every time, snickering about how you were so incredibly mischievous. 

When you felt somewhat satisfied you looked up only to meet Minghaos eyes curiously watching you. The side of his face was being hit so exquisitely beautifully by the warm sunlight shining in through the window beside your table. You were stunned for a moment before you could form a proper question. 

“How long have you been watching me?” 

“Not too long,” he said and smiled brightly. 

You squinted at him suspiciously, “And you’re done already?”

“I am,” he said and nodded, not removing that grin from his face for a single second. It made you wonder what exactly he was planning on doing.

“Who should start? Also, how do we decide on the winner?” you asked, now increasingly curious to see what he has been working on this entire time, but still intent on winning over him in his own sport. 

“You can start if you want.”

“Fine, I’ll start. But only because I’m super nice,” you said with a very sarcastically morally righteous tone lacing your voice. 

“And because you love me,” Minghao added.

“...and because I love you,” you admitted, rolling your eyes while his eyes revealed how his smile became even bigger than before. 

“Anyways, I made this mug. It has pink clouds up here, and then we have green moss down here along with these tiny pink and yellow flowers,” you began and Minghao listened and watched your show and tell with much interest, “and then… sheep.” 

You reached the mug over to Minghao so he could take a closer look at the dozen or so sheep grazing the wide moss fields on the surface of your mug.

“The sheep are the best part, I won’t lie to you,” he said after inspecting them for a while, “however, the pink clouds and the green moss are very visually appealing too, very interesting choice… may I ask why you chose those two in particular?”

You chuckled, he sounded like one of the food critics on master-chef, without the iconic Gordon Ramsey vocabulary and accent that is, and now he was dissecting your mug art. 

“I don’t wanna say…” you said while trying to avoid eye contact with the man currently in possession of your prized art. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s too cheesy okay!” you admitted, making Minghao smile a wide smile underneath his mask. 

“Please tell me anyways.”

You hesitated but decided to just tell him instead of having him bother you about whatever they could’ve meant in the future. 

“It’s because… you make everything feel like pink skies and green moss okay!”

There was a moment of silence, and then he chuckled, you opened the eyes you had closed as you said the words, cringing at your own sappiness. 

“Oh god, that was cheesy.”

“See! I told you!” 

He laughed again, seemingly loving how embarrassed you were over having made it thinking of how he made you feel every day. 

“I like it though, it’s really cute if I’m being honest.”

You didn’t acknowledge what he had said, just desperate to move on and forget about it as quickly as possible. 

“Okay, your turn!” you hurried to say, bringing the focus over to what he had been making. 

“You ready?” he said. You nodded and he turned around the canvas, showing you some kind of an abstract mess of colors. It was reminiscent of a galaxy, you thought as you studies his work. 

“I like it… but I can’t really tell what it is…” 

Minghao’s face crinkled up with a wide grin at your confession, “It’s a feeling,” he said and chuckled. 

You tipped your head to the side, deciding that maybe a new angle would make you understand the feeling he had portrayed better. It did not. You liked it a lot, you really did, but you could not for the life of you put your finger on what emotion he had made. 

“I’m sorry baby, I just cannot figure out what feeling. You’re gonna have to tell me before I lose my mind.” 

“It’s the feeling I get when I look into your eyes,” he explained, staring right into your eyes and seeing you become all flustered at his words. 

“How dare you! How dare you call mine cheesy when you had this planned all along!!” you exclaimed angrily. 

Minghao couldn’t help but laugh at your aggression toward his loving revelation. You began pouting, crossing your arms, and turning your head away from him while muttering under your breath. “I despise you,” knowing he would see through your charades as soon as you said it. 

“Oh, you know you love me,” he said in a smug voice as he continued finding your actions highly amusing. 

“So what if I do?” you retorted. 

“If you do… we can agree that your beautiful mug won our little competition,” he said, his demeanor telling you he was smirking under his mask, knowing you would admit and take the win. 

“I just have to admit that I love you?”

“Yup.”

“...I love you,” you said, feeling hot as you said it, his gaze so loving and warm and stuck on you the entire time. 

“And we have a winner, your gorgeous sentimental sheep mug has taken the first prize making the boyfriend end up in a lonely second place,” he proclaimed, making a cheering ‘woo’ sound as well. 

You decided it was only fair that you joined in, bowing in your seat and repeating “Thank you, thank you, everyone,” as you held your first-place winning mug in your hand. 

When you were both done with your ceremony you put up your art on the shelves, deciding that you wanted to leave your artwork there along with the many people who had left theirs there before you. You placed them together so they would always stay by each others’ side and left the studio. 

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

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