#it's not “i hate you and think you should disappear” issue. it's “i'm frustrated with you for reasons i can't articulate”

[that-angry-noldo]

well that poll game made me think about the biggest fish for the first time in a while

[areiphilos]

director's commentary for: sempre la stessa storia and big boys don't cry (they don't ask why)? 🥹

sempre la stessa storia is a fic that i love but i wrestle with a lot.

not because i don't know where it's necessarily going, though i am working through some structural issues. it's because it's essentially a rolling family epic slash hang out fic and it annoys me a lot. i wanted it to be something a little straighter, considering this is a rewrite of another fic. but...

everytime i sit down to work on it or plot it out, i realize i'm writing like. stories in that way my aunts describe watching soap operas mixing with the feeling that the reader is hanging out with everyone here. i'm trying to go from plot a to plot b and instead my notes are basically, "yeah dallas and ponyboy talk for awhile and then hear atreus and vincenzo laughing in the distance and The Don't Know What The Strings Are Between Them."

which frustrates me a little and at the same time probably speaks to how much i love that quartet. i hate that i have to write johnny more in this even though i really wanna break those bitches up. it's so funny when ponyboy initiates a divorce by just smiling at dallas.

as for real nitty gritty commentary, a bullet list to break this up for eyes:

i really enjoy that dallas and johnny have real relationship problems here that feel realistic for them: they bonded over ponyboy's disappearance, they have a lot of physical distance between them due to johnny's longest lasting hesitance with physicality at all, dallas' frustration at lack of intimacy feels like something he shouldn't feel frustrated by cause he knows why johnny is this way and accept sit even though it still bothers him; the fact that johnny's very uncomfortable with dallas' mob style; dallas knowing johnny is and still being bullheaded, etc etc.

the first chapter is a banger actually. writing from atreus' pov, slightly obscuring the very obvious cannibalism, his need to have ponyboy with him was so good. and i love jennifer in that moment; i have at deeply strong visual of how she should look after the arm dinner, with how her face is streaked, her messed up blonde hair, the run in her tights, the broken heel of her shoe in the grass

keeping pony slightly obscured is always a hard task for me. for many reasons, and in order to sort of move the plot along i had to write some "deleted" scenes for him just to make sure i know where we are in his head. i'm contemplating just making them official and drop the mystery or just posting them later as much of it is him with atreus. they're central to this, obviously, so i really treasure them.

big boys don't cry (they don't ask why) has some issues for it too mainly that every time i try to think about a court date, i just think atreus would just show up with a gun and kill bob at the courthouse and like. nobody needs that! so it's obv been a bit delayed, though i'm still thinking the second chapter needs to be tyn talking with atreus and leaving instead of jump to court. tyn has... a lot of feelings about what ponyboy has gone through, as an omega who's been vulnerable himself, as someone who cares a lot about children's welfare, and someone generally incensed about injustice as you well know.

originally i was gonna make the second chapter a nice reunion between menelaus and pony but i am gonna make that a christmas one shot. since mene is the kind of person who'd call estranged family on christmas, he'd be calling atreus just to check on him and then he's going to be shocked that daisy is home. and i love mene and pony's relationship so much 🥹 he's a good big brother to ponyboy. on the more technical side, i really am pleased with that opener and having the crow be a signal of badluck. it's greekverse and working in things like that is so much fun for me. (and yknow helen mention!!!!).

[mythomaniac-freak]

I'm a mythomaniac freak

I think I am anyway. That's all I really know about myself. It hurts to not know more but these two concepts I can latch unto the most steadily, and use to explain why I exist why I do. I really don't like people- but I do! I do and I don't, its very hard. I have lots of friends, people I care about, and I know that ultimately every person on this planet and beyond is like them but a bit different. I have over 10! I just went back to count! I just can't seem to find *community* within this. I've tried, over and over again, but I ultimately can't find what I'm looking for. I am either made extremely uncomfortable and feel unsafe, or feel as though I am the one making others uncomfortable and unsafe. I like being a freak, there is fun to being part of the counter-culture which the mainstream finds disturbing: but within that I can't find my counter-culture, the freaks who I belong with. I thought I had before, I always think I do- but it always comes down to me realizing I don't feel right around these people, or feeling like they are worse off with me there. It feels like there is no place for me no matter how long I search for it, no matter how much I change, it always seems to stay the same. I don't think its loneliness, something adjacent to that. It sucks to be the freak of freaks; and I know there's many out there, I know I'm not alone in this, but that doesn't really help when I can't find the ones who fit me. Maybe I make it hard on myself, how I modify my behaviour for each person dramatically, how I snap between emotional states to best suit their context, how I desperately crave to understand them because they make me feels things that I think they feel, but I'm wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong always wrong I always misunderstand I can never understand them but my brain always thinks it does. And I know it's not true, on an intellectual level I know this isn't right, but it really does feel that even those 10+ hate something about me. With each and every one it feels like I can say the wrong thing and evoke disgust, make them question why they even speak to me. They've never indicated this but there's a coldness that I just can't escape sometimes, like I've failed them completely and would be better off disappearing. And I can try to hide this and pretend I'm working, I can seek to understand myself through trauma and the classifications of mental disorders, but I feel I am simply lost and trying so hard to find a light in the fog only to snuff each one out as I find it. For a blog no one should read I will entice you by saying I'll explain more of why I think this is the case later, but for now I want to explain the mythomaniac part; Its a bit of a joke but of all the mental disorders and problems I might have, I am most confident in this.

I decided on the term mythomania both because I love learning about ancient myth, religion, the way stories have been passed down, and because pathological lying sounds worse. But that is what I do, I do pathologically lie, to everyone around me and myself. Its frustrating, because sometimes I'll catch the words coming out of my mouth and apologize because what I just said wasn't true-other times it will take days, weeks, months, fucking years to figure it out. Its not on purpose, but there becomes a purpose once they fester long enough: once the concept becomes part of my identity I have to protect it, so new lies pop up over and over again to fill in the dots- and they're boring, I think that's why they work. They tend to be mundane, they're casual, normal, often poorly researched as I frantically google something I *should* know *should* be able to recognize means this isn't a true thing about me- but I think my issues with memory make it difficult to just snap out of it. I believe I have a series of memories that, when spoken aloud, create a narrative for my life which is mostly factual and accurate- but these memories are few and far between. Ever since moving away from the old hellhole they've remained so distant, and while I am fortunate enough that they aren't completely gone like I once worried about, they so easily blend in with anything else I might say about myself. Also throughout my life, I've been told over and over that I'm wrong and just not remembering things correctly-that I've forgotten something crucial, and despite my best attempts I am rarely able to feel satisfied in any of the four conclusions: 1. I have indeed forgotten 2. Both I and my enquirer have forgotten details together 3. I remember correctly and my enquirer has forgotten 4. My enquirer is lying Some people have lied to me in ways which make me consider it for even the most minor of discrepancies: it sounds paranoid because it is, but there is a utility in lying to someone about the most minor details, it makes them unsure of any part of their reality. And that is where I love now!

I mentioned those memories, I have no idea how true they are! They feel true, they feel true in ways others don't, but I can only rely on external evidence to validate them and that can only take me so far. And when I right now am so detached from them. Its not like I try to lie- I never do, I cannot once think of a time I intentionally lied to someone. I've considered it, I've considered going behind people's backs for purposes cruel or altruistic, but I really don't think I've ever gone through with it. Does that even matter when so much of what I do is automated? I can say over and over that I'm not trying to lie, but I don't try to say anything that I do-I will occasionally slow down and try to think through what I'm saying but so rarely does this happen that even now as I type I have paused only *twice* to consciously edit or add things: once to count roughly how many people I consider a friend, twice to add the paragraphs about being a freak of freaks and my friends hating me. But if all that I do and say and think and want is just stream of consciousness, if none of it is planned, does the lying being unplanned make it any different? I don't know how many people I've really hurt, hurt in ways they will remember and impact them forever: I am sorry, I don't know what I can do to fix it, I want to but I just don't know how. Just writing that it sounds like it means nothing, apologizing to no one because I hate myself. I do hate myself, I try to think I've gotten through it but I fucking haven't, I need to stop lying to myself but I can't get a hold on what is true and real. I don't know if I'll ever feel real, if I'll ever feel like a genuine person: that's another lie, often enough I do, but deep down I fear that this question always lingers to rise from my stomach and grab my throat, that when I reflect on everything that's ever happened to me I will always have to ask Was I lying? Was I making it up? Was this really how I felt? Did this even happen? And I don't think I'll ever know, I don't think life can be proven to you and even if it can be I don't know how to prove it.

So welcome to the beginning and end of my blog! I plan on posting more, probably mostly how I feel, I figure once I write those out these will be the endpoint. I don't want to delete any of this I think, even if I come to hate it later I want to look back and understand the times where I felt truly honest with myself. The times where, and say it with me folks, I was a mythomaniac-freak!

[fluffy-lovely-clouds]

hey, im a sfw tk account!! obviously i 100% understand and respect boundaries but imma be honest your dni/intro post is really fucking off-putting. There are both a sfw and nsfw side of the community, both of which are 100% okay and should be respected. I understand there are a lot of kink accounts that do not respect boundaries ESPECIALLY with minors which is fucking disgusting, and that you are 100% entitled to say you don't like tickling that way and don't want to be associated with it.

Anyways. my point. "i hate fetishists just as much as everyone else" is the most baby ass thing ive ever heard, and you sound no better than any homophobe. you have every right to not want nsfw accounts to interact with you, but hating people for their harmless sexual interest is deeply immature and no different than if someone were to say they hate the sfw side of the community. Now you saying you're a minor is very vague - you could be 17 or 12, and there's a huge difference in that. If you're older, i suggest you learn to be a bit more mature, kink-shaming for something harmless is just a dick move and you can critique the nsfw community without doing so. If you're younger, then i doubt anyone else has told you this, but as long as it harms no one, its not an issue, and you can set boundaries without being an asshole.

Thank you so much for pointing this out actually. I have been meaning to update my intro lately because of exactly that that I put in there.

I just want you to know that I didn't mean to kink shame, but I did and there is no excuse for that. I believe when I first wrote that, what I had been TRYING to say was that I hate people disrespecting boundaries (such as a nsfw account harassing a sfw one) but I'm very bad sometimes expressing myself when it comes to writing. I couldn't process what wording to use to explain my boundaries and ended up putting that, and I instantly knew that it didn't sound right. And it doesn't, it sounds terrible. I realize that and I'm going to change that now.

Again thank you for being aware of that, it just goes to show how respectful of a person you are. Your looking out for both parts of the community and that's great. I aim to do the same, so don't worry that part in my dni list is disappearing

Edit: Hi, editing this because I realized how much of a kiss-ass I was being when answering. Look I realize that what I had in my bio was fucked up, and I knew it was, but I promise you I did not mean it. As I said before above, I'm terrible at putting my thought process into words, and I know that sounds like a lame excuse, even I think it does. Your probably wondering "how does this person who doesn't want nsfw interactions end up writing 'I hate fetishists'. It can't possibly be JUST because they can't write how they feel right. "

Well in a way yes, I don't think it was just that. After answering this, I sat down and thought back to when I first my bio and tried to think of any other reason why I wrote that. Well, I finally remembered something. Back when I still used my main blog for this content, I had put a very subtle and friendly dni to nsfw accounts that I didn't want any interaction because it made me uncomfortable, but NOT because I was against it. Despite that, a nsfw account followed me and was reblogging my stuff anyhow. That made me really uncomfortable and upset that they didn't listen that when I made this account to replace my main, I tried to be more assertive about nsfw accounts interacting.

I literally remember sitting there writing my bio and having a hard time processing exactly what I wanted to put because I was still iffy about my experience with the nsfw account. I've figured out what I want in my bio now, but what I had wanted to put back then was something like: "I hate nsfw accounts that direspect boundaries as much as anyone else." But I was having a hard time figuring out how to put that in words + I was frustrated and in the end it had come out as " I hate fetishists " even though I knew I didn't.

I was just trying really hard to make my restrictions clear since they hadn't been respected last time and ended up putting something really fucked that wasn't true, because I couldn't figure out how else to put it.

Nonetheless it was an asshole thing to say, but I didn't mean it. I've said things in conversations before that have come off wrong because I couldn't find my words. I'm neurodivergent, and I'm not using that as an excuse, I'm using it because it's the reason. I can't help that, and I know I'm not the only one who's like that either. Usually, it happens especially when I'm talking about something I'm against OR am making a point of. I just can not figure out how I want to say what I want to say! I usually end up thinking about what I shouldn't say, and for some reason that clumps together with what I DO want to say and it ends up coming all out sounding wrong.

I thank you for standing up for both parts of the community, but even though I wrote an asshole thing, that doesn't make me one, especially now that I've explained myself and I really wish you hadn't gone and assumed me for being one since you didn't know the whole story.

If your going to address someone for something they did, be more assertive and less aggressive

[meowstix]

ok. to the like.. probably 5 other brooklyn enjoyers out there. hear me out here.

i think there are some neat parallels between brooklyn and mafuyu from project sekai. i'm not entirely sure where to start so i'm gonna start with two pretty simple ones i can sum up with screencaps- they're small on their own but they'll make more sense in context of everything else i think.

a lot of g-rev unfortunately seems to view brooklyn more as an enemy, which is frustrating, because... just with what we are shown, it paints a particular image. behind that facade of perfection, he's been hurting all this time.

we don't really see anything of his home life, but i think i can imagine what it's like. why would he keep going with beyblading, something he went from not caring for to actively hating? to be more specific, was it even his decision to begin with?

i think the biggest difference (besides the whole. god complex thing brooklyn has going on) is where that pain goes. mafuyu retreats to her sekai, she wants to disappear into nothingness and simply give up on life. brooklyn, meanwhile, releases his emotions onto the world. to him, it's everyone else who should disappear. it's like the difference between an implosion and an explosion.

still, you can almost feel traces of eachother in them. the way we see the cracks in mafuyu's facade manifest in the real world, and with brooklyn... i can't help but feel that vibe of "i want to disappear." echoing throughout his character.

g-rev consistently treats brooklyn's "lack of effort" as some kind of laziness, it talks as if his lack of passion isn't a part of a greater issue. but i think i kind of get what's really going on there. it's that feeling of wondering, why put effort into such a meaningless life? why keep going when all you want is to disappear? it's alright to give up now, isn't it?

actually. i don't know if this all makes sense. and i probably missed something. but like. i swear it makes sense 2 me. anyway go watch nightcord at 25:00's story Now.

[hislittleraincloud]

i know ur not ok, i wont ask if ur ok, but i hope ur ok :)

You're right though. Haven't been okay in a while.

Dunno what it could be, maybe it's that I've been dragging my feet with 8 because God, I hate this part of the story (not that my own chapter isn't already mostly written for its third part), or if it's the whole Junkie Cat Lady thing wearing me down (I had to drag in two pieces of her most characteristic furniture back into my cramped space: a mirror box end table and a leopard print Ottoman that the cats used to sleep on whenever I catsat them). Or, the fact that I've got nothing left besides my dogs and two are hella old and can just keel over at any given moment, given their age (17+). Yeah, my parents are still around but I think my mother's getting some sort of dementia (I can tell by talking to her), but that's what you get for neglecting the intellectual part of your brain in favor of being a nasty, narcissistic, manipulative cunt your whole life. Figures that would be her goddamn fate...to start to actually forget the shitty things she did to me when I was growing up.

Creatively, I've been writing other stupid crap aside from 8 and Jairo, things that could turn into mini-fic, but I dunno. Re: 8, it's like the more I watch this show, the more the glaring issues with the storyline (and this is barring ALL romantic shipping) POP out at me, nag the fuck out of me and just...ugh. I know, I've already fixed a couple of those throughout my published chapters (like Rowan's disappearing glasses), but looking at it from an objective standpoint, it's just...garbage storytelling with a lot of inconsistencies held together by the cute star of the show. Re: Jairo, I'm once again closer to publishing another Jairo than I am 8, but I just haven't had the energy.

I mentioned the other day that I had gotten new comments/praise for Under Virgin Circumstances over at AO3. And then last night, I had placed my phone into yanno, I had a story about something weird happening but I felt like I was rambling, so the short of that next thing was: Somehow, the Drive app that holds all of my Jairo documents was up and running on this phone even though I hadn't opened it in a couple of weeks.

I'm taking both of those as signs to go back to Benson for a little while. I'm not going to rush through something I care about just because of impatiences (not just the couple of fans it has, but my own...I get very impatient and frustrated with myself, it's disabling), but I really would like to publish something.

That's where I am, I guess. There, and also wanting to create more physical art. I could hardly afford it (finances have been strained ever since Cat Lady fiasco) but I got some cheap art supplies/paint and pencils for my birthday and have some ideas of what I'd like to be doing.

But I also got other needs and a brown furball that never leaves my side these days. I'm still really irritated when I think of that nurse's shitty joke...this little thing is my baby/kiddo. She acts like one. She chatters with me like a toddler when we're out on walks. (One time, she actually said what sounded like "Hello!" to some lady who said "Hi there, cutie!" on the lake and it creeped me out... I've never taught her to speak or anything. She has a weird voice...sounds like a monkey at times.) So, she's getting more of my time too, since I'm now lamenting that I didn't have enough time with her when she was tiny (the time went by SO FAST, she started growing out her limbs in barely two months 😭).

I guess I oughta keep on...keepin' on. I feel like Cairo keeps calling out to me, since all I've been seeing on my fyp has been HOD stuff, then all of a sudden there was that post I just reblogged on there. I should call her. 🫠

Anyway. Thanks for wonderin'. 💕✨

[brick-van-dyke]

// vent, personal

TW: psychological and emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mention of threats, family issues, ableism

So for the last few days I think my mum's been in a really bad mood and she's gone back to this really screwed up bad habit of using me as an emotional punching bag and making fun of me / making snide remarks about me when she's feeling off.

I have several mental illnesses and (suspected) chronic fatigue, she knows this, but still she keeps making fun of how I'm unable to do things all at once, miss deadlines, can't always do physical tasks as easily as others, etc. I'm basically just this walking butt of a joke and she's always found it hilarious (I sure don't find it that though) to point out how """useless""" I am and how I can't do shit everyone else (as in: "she") finds "easy".

Twice in a two she's done this in the past three days and I'm so fucking tired of how she just suddenly flips around and decides to be spiteful and nasty towards me for literally no reason and for things she KNOWS aren't purposeful/ my fault.

"Knowing you, you'll only be able to do it once I'm at work because it takes you so long" thanks. Way to remind me that I can't do a bunch of shit at once like you can because I need breaks in between things or I fucking faint or snap emotionally! "You really should have a shower, otherwise you shouldn't go [to my friend's place]" after I showered barely a few days ago KNOWING I struggle with showers and that I was tired and in bed all fucking day thanks a lot! This is one way to make me feel even more tired and make it HARDER TO DO THESE THINGS. What does she expect?? Making me tired and feeling worse and like shit will "motivate" me to somehow "cure" my fucking disabilities as if I can snap my fingers and with a few insults suddenly I can do shit?? That's not how this works.

I've told her before that this makes me uncomfortable too, but she just replies with "you shouldn't be so fragile" and tells me to suck it up basically. It's annoying for one, sure, but it also hurts a really sore spot with how she used to be a lot worse when I was younger and I developed a huge fear of being abandoned/ thrown away after she and my dad split and how she used to threaten shit when I was younger. Little me viewed the split as him being "thrown away" because I didn't understand why and had overheard arguments previously where my dad had been called useless by her. Basically, this is just rubbing it in even more and hurting way more than she realises it does. Actually I don't even know if she doesn't realise, maybe she does but I want to at least be optimistic here.

I hate feeling useless and I already feel frustrated due to not being able to do the things I want to do due to said disabilities listed, she's just continually rubbing it in for her own satisfaction and to have a laugh. It makes me feel like she thinks my only use to her is cheap entertainment and besides that I'm fucking useless and she finds it fulfilling to laugh at that as if I fucking choose to have these issues which limit me to this degree. I'm frustrated and angry, and tbh just overall very tired of this bullshit. I wouldn't make fun of her like this, but it's suddenly justified because she thinks she's entitled to me and I can't have a say in how I'm told fucked up shit that makes me want to fucking die or disappear from her life/ stay tf away from her?? Then she gets mad when I distance myself from her because of this. History fucking repeats itself and she never learns.

Anyway. I'm tired as fuck and I'm angry, so I'm not gonna even be able to sleep to avoid thinking about this, sooo tonight is gonna suck. Can't wait for tomorrow to just have some time alone where I can just rest without anxiety or anything. I just really wanna be by myself and be able to let out that anger and frustration with art and music and not having to please anyone or look any particular way or just... put any emotional labour into anything. I'm just tired and need a rest from my mum's bs rn.

[telomeke]

There's a lot of frustration among the Tumblr userbase, and rightly so. I hate not being able to go back up the reblog chain; there's often wisdom in the tags when you retrace a thread's history. (@staff, isn't there any other way to view this or access the info?)

But I can't get past this comment:

"Tumblr is seriously in the red financially and needs more support..."

It sounds dire to me. Any business (and Tumblr is a business) that continues to bleed money will be shut down eventually. Usually sooner rather than later.

Even if it does finally make money (and it's urgent for the company to strike now while the iron is hot – while competitors are having issues and losing their users to us) investors will always be asking if the money they've sunk into this company is making enough returns, or if it will get them better returns if they were to pull out their funds and plough them into another business instead. And if the returns aren't as good, the funds will flow away and Tumblr will collapse if no other investors can be found (and who would want to touch it then?).

So even with the changes (and yes that includes the changes to how we reblog and consume reblogs) I'd rather have my beloved Tumblr still around to use. The other option is no Tumblr at all, or (if we're lucky) just a radically redesigned, shrunken version of it with features no one wants (anyone still remember MySpace?).

Tumblr has the tough job of trying to attract more users without alienating the existing ones. I see the point that not alienating the existing userbase should be a fundamental (and it is), but as it stands just doing the same things with the existing userbase is not enough, and leaving things as they currently are will eventually force the website to close down. So I can see why Tumblr is trying so hard to shake things up. It's actually a matter of survival.

In the meantime, I guess the signal to all creators on Tumblr is to back up your creations elsewhere – store a copy of all your GIFs, essays, artwork, whatever, somewhere else as well. It may (and likely will) all disappear if Tumblr goes the way of other Internet dinosaurs.

If adult content behind a paywall will bring in the money then maybe Tumblr ought to consider it, as long as this only applies to the hardcore stuff and everything else remains free access. And I pray fervently they draw the line carefully, without any influence from hardline conservatives who view so much of what we put on here already as objectionable (like LGBTQ+ content for example, but also artistic nudity, manga violence, and really any idea that challenges the conservative mindset).

Tumblr is one place that still allows us a lot of freedom to be who we are. As long as they don't change that one fundamental, I think I'm willing to adapt to most of the changes that they implement.

Signing off with love for Tumblr, wonky website that it is, and all my beloved friends on here too.

I watched the live with the CEO, here is the tl;dr

The good news:

Chronological dash is here to stay! Whether you have to toggle it weekly or new users default to “For you” was not elaborated on but at least that’s confirmed.

Custom themes are here to stay! Once again, may be buried for all I know but, for sure will remain an option.

Search updates are in the works!!!!

The neutral news:

Tumblr is seriously in the red financially and needs more support, Ad-free for example is not widely used

They would not comment on the suggestion to bring back NSFW behind a paywall (which we all know would get them a boatload of money)

They’re possibly going to add a donation system like Ao3 and Wikipedia.

They would “rather not” sell data to make up the costs

Most of staff are pre-2010 tumblr users including the CEO who joined in 2007, so they do actually use the site and have for a long time

The bad news:

Condensed reblogs/removing reblog chains is going forward. The reason cited was to meet “certain expectations” of users coming from other social media, which isn’t good.

Disability features (specifically turning off flashing ads for epileptics) was met with a request to purchase Ad-free

Overall it was more chill than I expected, @photomatt and @zingring seem to be far more in tune with the userbase than u/spez.

[proofofburden]

I have become aware of the forthcoming Kenobi fanedit, and oh boy...

So, I have a longstanding belief that harshly criticizing finished works based only on their trailer is bad, actually, and should be undertaken with extreme caution. With that in mind, it's a bit hard to say exactly what direction the Kenobi: Trials of the Master fanedit is headed in, but I don't feel like it is interested in smoothing over the rough parts of tbhe show so much as simply being unhappy it didn't tell an entirely different story.

I totally believe the creator behind it is a VFX professional and the trailer showcases some very detailed, very stylized VFX work. I think it's mostly good work to it's own ends, even before qualifying that its fan work. But take these two shots, one from Kenobi and one from the fanedit:

What exactly does the busier design accomplish? There is something to be said for the continuity choice of adding the gap in the middle, though full disclosure I am bored by continuity nitpicking and that's the last I'll say of it. There's no loss of continuity, though, in deciding for a bleak, ominous, present obelisk with the solar system obscured by weather. The dreariness is part of what people didn't like about Kenobi, I know, but the film language in the original is so much clearer and to purpose: the Empire was looming, it was consuming, and it was a bummer.

I know the argument that gets made here: Star Wars used to be fun! I mean, you were having fun, sure, but Luke's aunt and uncle are shown dead and charred in Episode IV, Han is pointlessly tortured in Episode V, and Leia is made into a sex slave in Episode VI. It never ceases to amaze how much people actively disengage from the Original Trilogy to construct the fandom, nor how mad they are Star Wars would take the details of the OT seriously. Kenobi, for all its foibles, did a great job making the emotional torment, bleakness, and fear in the Galactic Empire part of the landscape of Kenobi; Kenobi the show understands the need for a new hope in that landscape, and by the end so does Kenobi the character.

The other thing that rubs me wrong is the conspicuous absence of one of the best Disney-era characters: Reva Sevander. Given the fan reception around her character, I don't feel like I'm being uncharitable assuming they are disappearing her from the fan edit. Now, the execution of her plot in the first two episodes was, in my judgement, a little off balance. But fans rushed to judgement but by the end it was clear that those were deliberate creative choices: Reva was compensating. She was a minority marked for death if she did not enthusiastically collaborate and she poured her fury and desire for revenge into overplaying that part for her superiors. (It bears saying that not only did Moses Ingram deliver this performance like a champion---my issues are firmly with the direction and editing---the extratextuality of having a black actress deliver those beats was on point.) An edit that telegraphed that a little more a little sooner could help with that frustration, though a shorter edit with her in it could well deal with the problem simply by not having to wait as long for her motives to come into focus.

Whatever issues the show had coming to grips with her motivations early, by the end she was a powerful answer to an unspoken question that hung over the show: Why did Kenobi not sink into rage? Star Wars' philosophy does not allow Kenobi to give into anger and hate, but to sharpen Yoda's warning, someone needs to. The show didn't need to invoke Order 66 or flashbacks to make killing Vader a plausible motivation for anyone, but it foils expertly with both Kenobi's despair at the events around the purge and Vader's own quest for revenge. Well, the concept is expert; the pacing left something to be desired. Nonetheless, the show understands that Kenobi's trials are over---and that he failed them. The question Kenobi asks is when all is lost, when your best friend has become your bitterest enemy, when fascism bares down on you what can you do to find hope for the next fight?

The tragedy at the heart of Revenge of the Sith has never sat well with a certain trenchant of fans, so of course a show in such clear continuity with that tragedy was never going to be a fan favorite. For all I've defended it here, the show is a mixed bag on delivering on its ideas, and so is a good candidate for a fan edit. But I am skeptical that people who neither grokked the bleakness of the show nor understood how Reva was a thematic lynchpin can be called fans to do the editing.

To be responsible, I'll say it's possible the edit is headed in a different direction, and a direction that answers my concerns here! I've been fooled by marketing for professional Star Wars movies before, after all. I'm just jaded after spending time around this fandom

[inriospocket]

Would you mind writing this as a birthday present for me please ❤️? Rio and reader are good friends. She’s got a big crush on him but knows he’s never going to go for her. She’s more on the curvier/nerdier side and saw the girls he goes for (not to mention what a lovesick puppy he’s around Beth). A deal goes wrong and she tries to cheer him up and help solve it, but he gets frustrated and ends up taking it out on her calling her awful things. She’s very hurt by his harsh words and ends their friendship and disappears from his life. Once Rio is calmed down he finds a present waiting at his house (she had keys to his house which she also left with the present). It’s a birthday present for him with a card saying very corny loving stuff and a line saying “I wish you would see me and think of me worthy of your love” or something similar. Up to you if you want to give it a happy ending and/or add some loving smut. Thank you and I hope you’ve got a beautiful weekend 😘❤️.

I'm so sorry this is so late and I hope you had the best birthday! When I read your request, just to be completely transparent I was a little skeptical about the idea of the reader giving Rio a gift after he treated her like shit so I twisted it up a bit so it wasn't like she was trying to earn his affection through a present that he never deserved. So I hope you like this anyway. :)

Loving You

word count ♡ 1,032

summary ♡ Rio and reader are good friends until a deal goes wrong and he takes it out on her.

situation ♡ angsty/mildy fluffy

warnings ♡ shouting

-

You’d like to think that you and Rio were good friends. Essentially, you were but from your perspective, you wanted more but never thought he’d feel the same. You were beautiful inside and out but you always thought he couldn’t see it. You pictured him loving another societal norm.

You believed he could have never loved your chubby figure and your spew of random facts and aced trivia as if that should have been an issue at all.

But all in all, you had a great connection and you helped him through his worst and his best but sometimes he did take you for granted.

“Are you okay, Rio?” You asked him as he walked through the door, slamming it behind him. You usually went over to his house earlier because you had a key, waiting for him to get home so you both could hang out like usual.

He went straight to the kitchen to pour himself a drink; something to relax him and help him think or maybe just to forget.

“What happened?” You asked, walking towards the bar. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He ignored her, taking a large sip.

“No, you’re obviously upset. Did something go wrong? Was it a bad deal?” You pushed until his loud tone made you jump.

“NO! I said don’t worry about it, whatchu not understanding?” He looked at you, perturbed.

“...I was just trying to he-” You started to say quietly but he interrupted. “I don’t need your help, Y/N. You’re not my girl, and never will be.” He said.

You were taken aback by his statement, not really understanding the correlation. “I never said I was...” You said, hurt.

“Why you still here?” He asked, and you felt flustered. “I guess I’ll just go then.” You said, getting your purse to leave.

You couldn’t sleep that night. You wondered why you were never good enough for the people you loved. You were embarrassed, realizing that he knew this entire time how you felt about him and he held it against you to finally push you away.

You took your pillow and held it to your face, screaming into it. You hated yourself for still worrying about him, and for what? What was it all for? Holding him down, being a good friend, putting him before anyone else.

But for once, you took this is as a sign to start new, fresh, finding you and loving you. You didn’t bother texting him like usual to check on him, you deleted his number, quit your shitty job and took the final leap to do what you wanted to do.

Meanwhile, a couple of months went by and Rio continued to grow his business. Money was always coming in, but he still felt like he was lacking in something, or maybe someone. He came home from a long day of work to a package on his doorstep. He didn’t order anything recently so he was skeptical until he opened it. You remembered his birthday, like you always did.

“I’m not a photographer, but I can definitely picture you and I together. Happy Birthday, Rio.” The card read and he smiled, for the first time in a long time but it faded away once he realized how shitty he treated you.

He knew you were in love with him, but he was too busy chasing money and other women. So, he took it upon himself to track you down, and try to win you over in person.

Bouquet in hand, he knocked on your door but was surprised an unfamiliar face opened it. The man in front of him was literally the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Rio was attractive in his own way that made women swoon but he had to admit, this guy was attractive in a different way.

“I’m looking for [Y/N].” Rio said. The guy looked at the bouquet and then back up at him before calling you.

“Babe! Someone’s here for you!” He called. You came quickly, surprised to see him standing there. You motioned towards your boyfriend to give you privacy and he gladly obliged.

“Hey...” You said, giving him a small smile. He scanned you from head to toe, realizing how attractive you were but he just never noticed. Actually, it kind of surprised him that you still looked the exact same and you were. The only things you changed about yourself were from within, glow ups don’t always have to amount to your appearance.

That was also something you had to learn as well.

“I just wanted to apologize.” He said, handing you the bouquet. “Well...thank you. These are beautiful.” You said, smelling them.

It was an awkward silence until he spoke up again. “I’m kind of surprised you left me that note that was in the package you sent considering...” He started, hinting towards your new boyfriend.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion until you realized he finally received his birthday gift. “Oh! I’m sorry, I sent that a long time ago so you’d be able to open it on your birthday,” You chuckled.

His smirk fell when he realized that he didn’t have a chance, even before coming to you. He opened up feelings that were no longer there.

“[Y/N]! Hurry up, pizza’s getting cold!” Your boyfriend called. You looked back, grinning from ear to ear.

Rio felt a bit envious of the both of them but was happier for her more than anything. You didn’t expect to find someone new but he stumbled on your path and showers your most vulnerable parts with adoration so why not keep him?

“Thanks for the flowers, I hope you find your happiness too Rio. Just...not with me.” You said.

Rio smirked at how straightforward you were now. “Thanks, mama.” He said, turning on his heels and finally walking out of your life.

Anyone else would have thrown the flowers away with the way he treated you all this time but you kept them.

You watered them, and cherished them but just like some relationships, some feelings even, they wither away and die.

It wasn’t because you didn’t love them; it just wasn’t meant to live for you.

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

So J is there a back up plan if the High Priestess tells you to go fuck yourself? And your caught out in the open away from all your vaguely combat ready meat shields?

Patton recounts what he remembers from their misadventures during Liar’s Night,

“I can still feel my aches from fighting Remus, and I remember everything up to getting drinks with Roman, but after that point is a bit of a blur. I was a little tipsy at the time, but that usually doesn’t impede a Hin’s memory, so I think that’s the magic’s doing...” he continues wandering aimlessly about the forest and looking for Dee as he speaks aloud,

“I remember looking for Annie, and Roman freaking out when we couldn't find her. I’ve never actually seen him flounder like that before. It feels mean to say, and it wasn’t worth the price of her being kidnapped of course, but I did feel a little vindicated seeing his panic. Didn’t want him treating the issue lightly, since he really had messed up this time.

“I remember noticing that person wearing green. They'd...been following me for a while, now that I think about it!” Patton huffs, frustrated,

“I thought they must have been up to something after your warnings, but when I walked up to confront them they disappeared. I mean vanished, like a magic trick! I kept looking for them in the crowd, but I couldn’t find them again after that, and regardless I had a more important missing person to worry about.

“When I found him again, Roman was arguing with Remus. I'm not sure when he got there, or what they were arguing about, but Roman was beet-red in the face.

Before I could really hear them, suddenly Remus had fallen flat on the floor! I remember assuming Roman must have knocked him flat for an insult or another, but I don’t think Roman had touched him.”

Patton scratches his head, coming up blank.

“Ahhh...Everything after that I forget. I’m not sure if anyone else in the ballroom even noticed Remus passing out before I woke up in the barn again.”

At your insistence upon the letter, Patton pats the pack strapped around his waist and frowns,

“I don't know what the letter has to do with all this, but I suppose we could read it once everyone's back together again. I doubt anyone but me wants to try going to the party again, after what happened last time.”

He blushes slightly, sheepish,

“There's no point in me reading it alone. My reading isn't so good, and if I know Ian, he'll have encoded something on it. We'll need a candle to read it fully, and I don't want to risk opening it and smearing something...”

Patton gets back to looking for Janus in earnest, moping to himself with a pout,

“Oh, I wish Logan wasn’t knocked out... He’d be able to fix all of this with those spells of his, or at least come up with a better plan than that scoundrel Dee! —And I hate speaking ill of people, so you know I mean it!”

He fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie, looking around nervously,

“Gee... What can I do? I doubt I’ll find Dee unless he wants to be found, and he sure doesn’t seem interested in being anywhere near me. I should have been watching him more closely...

“Should I keep looking, or should I just go back??”

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Ask 130     (( @lovelivingmydreams​ ​ ))

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Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

Available for questions: Patton, Roman, Virgil, Janus, and Annie!

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As soon as they are far enough into the woods separating the Manor from the Castle, Janus sneaks off into the wood! It seems he never actually intended to let Patton follow him, or rely on the Empress...

Patton looks for his runaway party member, and summarizes his memories of the previous file...

[naturallytwofaced]

He frowned at her remark, like dealing with her was an issue. Like he hadn't wanted to see her. Like he hadn't thought about apologizing to her every day since they last spoke, hadn't regretted the way he'd gone about things, wondered if he had made the wrong decision time and time again. Hurting her, it was unforgiveable. Lying to her. Letting her think that she was the problem somehow. Maybe she hadn't meant it that deeply, what she had said. But that was how he felt it. Like a knife to the chest, twisting between his ribcage as he desperately tried to figure out what he was supposed to say. This might have been the first time in months he wished he was sober. He had not seen her in so long, and now... now that he could ask how she was doing, now that he could say something, anything meaningful, all he was doing was staring back at her, filled with emotions he was struggling to conceptualize.

"Everything," he repeated, as if that was any clarification, allowing the rest of the conversation to fall off. "I was a fool." He could see it now, if nothing else, as clear as day. His friends had tried to tell him. She had tried to tell him. He tried too hard, he worked too much. He spent endless nights in the office, put together campaigns and holiday events, paid for his grand ideas out of his own measly paychecks more often than anyone realized. Did the citizens ever talk about that? Did they ever wonder why he was skipping dinner, only sleeping three hours a night? Did anyone notice the bags under his eyes or the way his expression fell when yet another person showed up dissatisfied with the job he was doing? Hardly. And the ones that did, the ones that cared, he pushed them away, let his relationships dwindle until they were irreparable. For people that never even looked at the human being behind the podium. For people that hated him for everything he was and everything he wasn't. People he would never be able to please. People he didn't even know. He was stupid. So fucking stupid.

"I cared so much... what they all thought. I gave it all up." He shook his head, overcome with frustration. "My time. Myself. You." Mason's voice broke as he said that. If only he had known. Would he go back and change it? Would he undo everything? Would he even be capable of that, knowing how little he deserved it? Would he take it a step further and never introduce himself, never set his eyes on her? Would he be able to erase the best years of his life, all of their memories, for her well-being... or was he far too selfish for that? "I tried," he whispered, forgetting as soon as it was spoken what he was referring to. He had tried... so hard. But he had tried for all of the wrong things, it seemed. His explanation was choppy, but it was the best he could give her at the moment. He was so tired. So dizzy. He felt like he needed to sit down, lie down, and his stomach was now churning, but all he could focus on was the tears falling down her face. He hated to see her hurt. He had never wanted to hurt her. From the moment he first saw her, all he had wanted was to make her smile. He wished more than anything she was smiling at him right now.

"No." Instinctively, he reached out, fingers wrapping around the wrists she hid her face behind. He had no right to attempt to comfort her after all of this time and everything he had done to her. But how could he not? How could he just stand there and watch teardrops fall down her face? "Don't," he spoke, practically pleading with her, begging her, though he knew how she felt was out of her control. It wasn't her fault. It was him, all him. It had always been him. His own eyes burned with tears as he held onto her arms, but he hardly noticed. "Don't be sad. Not… not over me. Please, Cat, I'm… okay." Clearly a lie, still he tried. He knew he had no right to make her worry like this. He was selfish, showing up here tonight. Whether he had meant to or not. The least he could do was disappear from her life. He should have drank at home. He should have had the ride he had called take him… somewhere else, anywhere else. He should have never entertained the idea of speaking to her in the first place. "I'm okay," he said again, "just don't… don't… cry over me. It's okay."

~

Catherine didn't know what to say or how to react to anything he said or did. For the first time in a very long time he was completely unpredictable to her. This wasn't the Mason she knew. He wasn't the Mason she once loved with every cell in her body. He was a complete stranger. A train wreck of one by the looks of it too. The cage of the heart she had so carefully guarded was breaking apart and fumbling to the ground. Her heart ached for him. She didn't feel pity though, just sympathy. No matter how cold he had been towards her in the end and for whatever reason didn't mean she would return him with the same. She didn't have it in her to be cruel to him. There would always be a very special place for Mason in her heart. She wished him no ill will.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I won't shout." There were months and months of questioning herself. Doubt and worthlessness made her feel defeated for so long. Through it all she powered through, pretended like there were no issues at hand until the pain was buried enough that she didn't have to actively feel it. There was never closure though and that's what troubled her the most. Not that she had exactly helped with that. The day he dropped his infamous line of not loving her any longer was the last day she'd seen him. She packed as many of her things as she could, racing to their house before he could get there, and left the key on the table before she disappeared from his life for what she thought would have been forever. It was a small enough town though. They were bound to cross paths again. It's not like she could forget him with his face plastered on every reelection poster in town.

The more she heard him speak the more her mind spiraled. She had so many questions for him but would likely never ask him. Why wasn't she good enough? What made her so unlovable? Why did he have to shatter her heart into millions of microscopic pieces that couldn't be pieced back together? "It's not my job," she finally agreed. "But I'm the only one here right now so I guess you'll just have to deal with me." Catherine wondered how long he 'dealt' with her. How long had he tolerated her presence before he finally ripped the band-aid off? She wondered but wasn't sure she was ready for the answers. Feeling him pull his face away from her left her hand feeling empty and cold. Her hand lingered in the air for a moment, mouth slightly agape, before letting it fall to her side and looking away. Catherine hoped Mason wouldn't remember this interaction by morning. He could get off guilt free and not remember her ever bothering him.

His words are what broke her small trance. She looked back at him with sad, defeated eyes. "What do you mean? What did you ruin, Mason?" Surely he wouldn't have meant their relationship. As far as Cat was concerned he was the one that wanted it ended in the first place. She wanted to reach out for him and touch his face, his hand, arm, anything. She wanted to comfort him but she was no longer that person. Not for him at least. When she realized she couldn't felt felt a tear fall down her cheek. Blinking a few times, Cat tried to hold them in. "The only thing you're ruining right now is your liver. You need to drink some water and sleep." Another tear. How the hell did he end up like this? Piecing together every rumor or whisper she'd heard about him she began to accept the truth. He wasn't well and he clearly hadn't been for a long time. Catherine had been there for the start of his downfall, but she didn't realize at the time. Had she caused this? Did he drink because she tortured his soul for too long? Before Cat could process what was happening her hands were in her face as she let out a sob. She felt so unlike herself. "Why would you let this happen to yourself, Mason? Why let yourself get this far gone?" She realized now they'd barely moved from the bar's perimeter and she still needed to get him home. Her feet wouldn't move though and her brain seemed to be malfunctioning. "All I wanted was for you to take care of yourself and instead you're deteriorating in front of my eyes."

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

They sat across from each other in the hallway, the sound of Maddie Fenton's shouting was muffled through the door of the principal's office.

Wes leaned back with his arms crossed as Walter Weston's voice broke through the noise, issuing an attempt at an apology that seemed to fall on deaf ears as the yelling continued.

"Your son might think it's just some funny joke, but I will not have anyone accusing my son of being that lying, manipulative, piece of ectoplasmic scum!"

Danny sank lower in his chair, face tightening with every word.

"You know they wouldn't say that stuff if they knew the truth." said Wes, cutting into the tense air between them.

Danny's head thumped back against the wall as he rolled his eyes.

"You cannot possibly be that fucking dense." Danny's voice was strained with frustration.

Wes felt heat flood into his cheeks as his chest coiled with anger.

"Well it's true." he spat. "They wouldn't think Phantom's a monster if they knew he was you."

Danny's nose wrinkled in an expression of mild disgust.

"For the most observant guy in school you are unbelievably blind."

"Oh I'm blind?" the squeak of Wes' sneakers echoed down the empty hall as he stood over the other boy. "You're the one who can't see how much easier your life would be if you just told everyone who you really are. But no, you have to keep it this big secret just so you can feel special, because you just wanna keep playing superhero."

He jabbed a finger in Danny's face as vibrant blue eyes glared up at him through dark bangs.

"You're choosing to get detention for missing classes, you're choosing to get beaten up by Dash all the time. You're choosing to be the least popular guy in school when you could turn it all around overnight if you wanted. You're choosing to listen to your parents talk shit about you-"

Danny's fist didn't race up to grab Wes by the collar, Wes simply blinked and cold fingers were suddenly curled around the neck of his basketball uniform.

"Have you even remotely considered that telling the professional ghost hunters that I live with that I'm part ghost might not be the best idea? My mom is literally yelling about how much they want to tear me open right now."

Wes couldn't help but notice that that was, in fact, exactly what she was currently yelling about.

"They wouldn't do that." Wes scoffed, batting Danny's hand away, it was like hitting a marble statue that only decided to move out of politeness. "They're your parents, they wouldn't hurt you."

"Are you sure about that?" Danny asked, Wes wasn't exactly sure when he got up from his chair, but they were standing face to face now. "Would you bet your life on it?"

Wes suddenly felt rather cold, but he refused to let Danny see him flustered.

"No, but I wouldn't go around betting my life on anything," Wes smoothed the wrinkles out of his shirt collar. "That's just stupid."

"Then why," Danny grit his teeth hard, "Are you so comfortable betting mine."

Wes opened his mouth to retort but suddenly found himself at a loss for words as Danny's question sank in and the cold chill in the room ran sharply down his spine.

They wouldn't really hurt him. He was sure of it, they were his parents. They would never, he was sure.

Would he bet his life on it?

"There's about three things that can happen if I tell my parents." said Danny, wandering slightly down the hall, looking down at his shoes. "One, they believe me, they put aside an entire lifetime of prejudice and accept me for who I am, hooray!" he shook his hands in a rather sarcastic gesture of mock celebration.

"Two!" he continued before Wes could interject. "They believe me, but they think of Phantom as some kind of disease, something that should be gotten rid of, something they can cure."

He turned on his heel to face Wes once again, holding up three fingers.

"Three... they don't believe me. They think Phantom is controlling me, or he's killed me and taken my place, that this is just some evil plot to manipulate them. They try to kill me."

Danny shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at a piece of rubbish on the floor.

"Which means I only have a one in three chance of things going okay, and that's being generous and ignoring all of the other things that could go wrong. I don't like those odds, Wes."

Wes swallowed hard. He hadn't thought of it like that, he hadn't even considered it at all, but one in three? That didn't seem right.

"What do you mean one in three?" Wes asked, "Only one of those was really bad, what's wrong with them finding a cure? You hate being Phantom."

Danny looked up at him with a surprised expression, before frowning hard.

"I don't hate being Phantom, and it wouldn't matter if I did. Phantom is a part of me, I can't get rid if it. The last time I managed to split my ghost half from my human half it took half of my personality with it, and if I'd stayed that way for too long both sides of me would have died, for good."

"You don't know that it's impossible." said Wes, refusing to back down out of pure stubbornness at this point, even though the conversation was leaving a sour taste in his mouth. "Your parents are geniuses, if anyone could figure it out they could."

"Wes," Danny rubbed a hand over his face, looking very tired. "I asked the most powerful omniscient ghost I know if it was possible, there isn't a single timeline where I survive a permanent split. It can't be done, and I don't want it to be done."

"But why?!" Wes' arms opened in a desperately questioning gesture. "You don't even use it for anything! All you do is fight ghosts and lie to everyone! Why would you want that?!"

"It doesn't matter why." Danny hissed. "This is my life, my body. I get to choose what I do with it, and I should get to choose who I tell about it instead of having some selfish prick outing me to everyone without warning!"

"He WHAT?!"

The boys both turned around to find Mrs Fenton and Mr Weston standing in the doorway to the office. Maddie had a hand over her mouth, and Walter's jaw was hanging from his head.

"Did he just say what I think he said?" Walter asked.

"Yes! Finally! Dad he's-"

"You outed him?" Walter grabbed Wes by the shirt and marched him down the hallway. "You can't just do that sort of thing with someone's personal life! The ghost thing is bad enough but this-"

"What?" Wes' eyes widened as he realised what his dad was saying, "Wait, no! That's not what we were talking about-"

"We are going to have a very serious talk about this." Walter turned around, still shoving Wes ahead of him. "Mrs Fenton, Danny. I am so, so sorry about this, all of this."

Maddie slipped a hand over Danny's shoulder and squeezed as the Westons disappeared down the hall.

"Did he really tell everyone about that too?" Maddie asked in a dark tone. "If anything happens to you because of this I'll-"

"It's fine mom, it's fine." Danny assured her. "It doesn't matter what he says. Nobody ever believes him anyway."

He really hoped Wes learned something from that conversation, but somehow he doubted it would change anything.

[elletromil]

4. comforting hugs, Merlahad

So even if I know you're not holding it against me for not answering this prompt sooner, I still want to say sorry for the long-ass wait. Also, I tried to make this angsty to make up for it! (or well angstier than my usual stuff... I'll let you be the judge of if i hit the mark or not (i'm betting on not))

Enjoy darling!

--

4. comforting hugs

Violent chaos.

A bang.

The cracked view of the sky.

And those words echoing in a endless loop in the following darkness.

It’s not that kind of movie

~

Harry jerks awake, drenched in sweat, his whole body locking up with residual panic.

He struggles through his breathing exercises, only managing a few calming lungful of air before he notices vibrant butterflies fluttering in the dark bedroom.

Eyes squeezing shut, a pitiful whimper escapes him when it doesn’t make the butterflies disappear. That, more than the painful memory-nightmare, makes his body tremble with fear.

It’s a while before the panic finally starts to subside. Before the simple act of breathing doesn’t feel insurmountable anymore.

Harry sits up in the bed, wiping tears from his cheeks. Later, in the harsh light of day, he knows he’ll feel frustrated and embarrassed for overreaction in such a way to something he should be used to by now. But the sun isn’t up yet and it’s easier to be honest with himself when he’s as exhausted as he feels at the moment.

He doesn’t think there will be any getting used to this.

This loss of control.

One he cannot blame on anything but his own failure.

Valentine’s signal isn’t the cause of the hallucinations that continues to plague him at random times. His brain is.

His breath catches in his chest when trying to ignore the butterflies into disappearing back into nothingness makes him notice the empty space in bed next to him.

Irrational terror and nameless guilt war each other at the realisation.

As is usually the case, guilt wins.

He stumbles out of bed, bumping his way to the living room, not caring at all if he’s being loud. It’s best if he is. That way, Merlin won’t be startled into drawing a gun to his head. Again.

Not that Harry minds. Hell, he even understands.

But he also knows how much Merlin hates himself for being on such a hair-trigger since they’ve come home.

“Another nightmare?” Merlin asks without looking at him, eyes still lost in whatever thoughts have been keeping him awake lately. Only one lamp is switched on, its light barely enough to dispel the shadows in the room. It makes the butterflies starker by contrast, but it also makes it easier to hide. Harry won’t begrudge Merlin that.

He lets himself fall onto the couch with a heavy sigh, careful not to touch Merlin. In the middle of the night like this, with their respective trauma a near tangible presence between them, physical contact is something they need to carefully build their way towards.

“Not just that,” he replies before the silence can stretch for too long. He focuses on Merlin’s profile rather than the colorful wings still flapping away at the edge of his vision. Sees him frowning and changes the subject before Merlin can ask for more than Harry is willing to share at the moment. “Legs still hurting?”

The question surprise a derisive snort out of Merlin, but judging by how he closes his eyes and throw his head back on the couch, it’s not aimed at Harry.

In quiet support, he risks a slight nudge of his elbow against Merlin’s. He’s rewarded by a small upward curve of his lips. It last for a second at most, but it’s something.

Harry continues to watch him, for no other reason that he can. That he’s allowed to. Welcomed to it.

“You would think that by now my brain would have caught up with the fact there’s nothing left there that can be hurt.” Merlin waves vaguely at his prosthetic legs, frustration clear in his voice.

More than anything, Harry wishes he could do to take that pain away from Merlin. But his own issues has given him enough perspective to know there’s not much he can do.

“Brains are dumb,” he says instead of any of the other platitudes they’ve each heard a thousand times now.

It makes Merlin chuckles, “you won’t get any arguments from me on that one.” This time, it’s Merlin who bumps their shoulder together, but instead of retreating on his side of the couch, he stays with their sides pressed together. If he wanted, Harry would only need to lean in a bit to kiss his neck. In any other situation, it would be too tempting to resist. But right now, it’s the last thing either of them need.

So instead of pressing his lips against sensitive skin, he turns properly towards Merlin and leans his forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m so tired Hamish.”

Merlin hums in agreement, one of his arm coming around Harry’s waist, loosely holding him. They’re both perfectly aware that Harry isn’t talking about anything that would be fixed with a good night of sleep.

Harry has grabbed onto Merlin’s shirt now, unsure how exactly it happened. But it’s hard to care when he feels Merlin press a gentle kiss in his hair before resting his cheek against the top of his head.

They continue to hold onto each other without exchanging another word until sunrise.

They have long since resigned themselves to the fact that there is probably no fixing any of their respective issues. Slowly, they’re even starting to make peace with it.

But like this, hidden in their quiet bubble of intimacy, it’s easier to believe that of all the things they’ve become, broken is not one of them.

[fuck-customers]

(tw ableism, racism)

i never complained about this guy on here but i finally talked to the store lead about this awful guy i work with! said guy, we'll call him don which of course isnt his actual name, is so annoying. for the record, i helped train him, so its not like he's been here for long time. less than a year. anyway, don thinks he's smarter and better than everyone else. he knows everything and everyone else is wrong if they disagree with what he's saying. he's always talking about people behind their backs, and complaining about how no one does their job right, but i guess he does. he's also always spewing some bs about "you should work for satisfaction not money" (girl why are you here then? you hate this job) and "if you really want something you'll get it because you'll do anything for it" and other classist bullshit.

he'll complain about two of our coworkers specifically, who we'll call gina and ben. gina is an older woman, and don is always talking about how she leaves the register to make coffee every hour (gas station, coffee is made every two hours or as needed) and is always away doing something even if there's a line. he also has made some weird comments about the old men who come in and talk to her. he talks about ben the most though, saying he doesnt do anything, he's always disappearing (which, yeah, he does sometimes, but usually i can track him down because i know what he's doing) and calling off (which he used to do, but now he calls off only occasionally, and is definitely not the worst offender in terms of calling off all the time). its also worth noting that ben and gina have been here for years, through multiple managers and store leads and rounds of employees. now, when don and i are at the register, don is usually occupied with stocking cigarettes and the other nicotine products up there, and its nice to have that stuff done, but that means i am the only one ringing people out. even if theres a line. so if someone else leaves him alone at the register, its a problem, but if he leaves me alone, its fine. another thing about ben he doesnt like is his tattoos. ben is a young guy with a ton of tattoos, including face tattoos, and some piercings. don doesn't like that. he was talking about this the other day to me, and he was saying how "businesss shouldn't hire people with tattoos, i wouldn't" (when I told the store lead he said "but there are professionals with tattoos?"), and first off, this is a gas station honey. what i said to don was, "I don't know, I still think those people deserve to eat." he replies, "I don't." i don't know what to say to that.

he also doesn't like me I don't think. we were talking about stuff we have to do, and got on the topic of outside trash, and I said, "Yeah, if I could do outside trash I would, but because of my hand I can't lift the pump trash lids." i have an ongoing issue with my left hand that we think is tendonitis but we aren't sure, and basically i can't put any pressure on any part of my thumb/that part of my palm. to lift the pump trash lids, you have to push inward on the sides with your palm and lift up. obviously i cant do that. but i can lift propane tanks because that's mostly on my fingers. he tells me, "man, i wish i had a brace i could just put in when i didn't want to do something."

my man the other day i sat down on the floor to look for something and i thought it was healed but as soon as i leaned on it i fell because of how much it hurt. I've tried to do pump trash with it, it made it worse.

going back in time, he said something to me that i didn't think much of at the time. he looked up and saod "that's who you remind me of!" and said my voice sounded like his ex girlfriend's. at first i was like okay. whatever. but he mentioned it again later in a way that infuriated me and im about to tell you why.

so, he was going off about "how you should only eat between these times of the day" (directed at me because i mentioned my breakfast that morning? my dude i get up at six for this shift.) and then going off about circadian rhythms and how theres a single set one (which is not true!) and i mentioned that one if the symptoms of adhd is having a circadian rhythm thats out of sync (he knows i have adhd). and then he starts going off about how "no its not, tell me that when its in a medical book" (girl? maybe look at one that isnt outdated) and then that adhd is overdiagnosed (untrue and also a googleable statistic) and pretty much implying that i was just saying i had it to be special and not have to do things, which infuriated me because thats what everyone says about it and what ive been told my whole life, to the point my mom literally had to threaten several schools with legal action because they would not follow my IEP, and then when i said "hey, I'm the one living with this, you aren't," he said "kelly! kelly! you sound so much like her! you're just kelly to me!"

obviously that's kind of a fucked up thing to say.

some other things i hate about this man is that he gets really aggressive when he's frustrated. one day he started slamming things down as he was stocking. he even does it in front of customers! also, as a cherry on top, he was talking to our coworker, and found out she had a lot of black friends, and called her a [n word] lover.

i also know that im not the only person who has problems with him. literally no one likes him. he's always complaining that someone else isnt doing their job right and "if *I* were the manager" and stuff like that. it might be worth mentioning that i only complained because someone suggested i do. i was just going to tough it out for a while since im going back to school soon and will only be dealing with him once a month

one of my coworkers gave me her number if i ever wanted to talk about it, and the store lead said he would try to talk to him (without mentioning me), and this definitely wasn't okay for him to be doing, so we'll see how this goes. also, i think the store lead kept me in the office talking with him (about school and the pandemic and other stuff) for an hour ish so that i wouldn't have to deal with him, since don leaves after an hour of me being there during the week (but we have six hours together on the weekend) so that was nice.

sorry for the long ask. tldr this guys just an all around asshole who doesnt shut up and thinks he's superior to everyone else but my other coworkers are nice people

[ruzek-halstead]

get me with those green eyes, baby

julie is unsure how to tell luke how she feels; she isn't sure if she can. so she does what she does best; she writes luke a song. why tell him if she can just sing it to him?

masterlist

Julie would be lying if she said every song she'd ever written since meeting Luke hadn't been about him.

Because they have. Every last one.

When unknown feelings started bubbling deep within her chest the more time she spent with Luke, she had to let them out somewhere. While she was never the type to keep things bottled up, she didn't necessarily enjoy spilling her guts (unless it was to Flynn). So, she opted for writing down her feelings. That usually ended up in lyrics and it wasn't like she could just show them to Luke because the boy was curious beyond belief and he would hound her until he knew exactly who it was about.

So, she locked everything in her dream box.

And yes, the boys were known to be a tad bit snoopy and go through her things, including the dream box. So, when Julie started locking up her deeply personal (borderline romantic) lyrics, she made it explicitly clear they were to go absolutely nowhere near her box.

She was mostly directing her words at Luke, who actively avoided eye contact while suppressing a smirk.

And they were respectful, she never had any further issues that she knew of; so, she continued writing.

It was only when they were faced with the choices of being stuck in the Hollywood Ghost Club forever or crossing over that she realized she wouldn't ever have to worry about Luke snooping through her personal things again.

He wouldn't be able to. He'd be gone.

So, Julie wondered: did she risk letting him go forever without telling him how she felt? Or tell him anyway but still risk him disappearing?

It was a tough choice that kept Julie reeling, but she found she didn't have much time in between. She didn't care that she would lose them when they crossed over; she would do what she could to ensure that they did.

With all the chaos, she didn't get the chance to talk to Luke, other than a quick moment to make sure he thanked her mom for bringing them to her when he saw her.

The tension was palpable and his gaze was intense. She was perfectly aware of Alex and Reggie only a few feet away, diligently pretending not to be listening but they both knew they were.

It wasn't the time or place for what Julie truly wanted to say, so she swallowed the words.

She didn't get another chance after that.

When they disappeared after their final bow, the pain was gutting. She continued to smile because this was a huge moment for her, for all of them, but they were gone. She thought she was ready, that she had mentally and emotionally prepared herself for their absence.

But nothing could prepare her for the immediate loneliness.

She wanted to be happy for them, and she was, deep down. But she had already suffered so much loss in her life, and this was only adding to it.

When she spotted them in the garage, tear-stained and in excruciating pain, all her emotions were overridden. All she could think about was saving them, no matter the cost, no matter the consequences. The desperation clawed at her throat; she couldn't bear seeing them in this much pain.

But then Luke delivered those few words: No music is worth making, Julie, if we're not making it with you.

She regretted not sharing her feelings but she was confident had an inkling of a clue. Even if she never explicitly said the words, he knew.

So, when she threw herself into his arms, she wasn't even thinking about the fact that he was air and she would most likely slam right into the wall instead. When she collided into his toned chest, she drowned in the moment, hardly even realizing that this shouldn't be possible.

But then she felt it.

She felt the softness of his suit beneath her fingers; she felt his hot breath fanning across her neck; and she felt his arms squeeze tighter around her waist.

Julie felt him.

It was impossible, they weren't sure how to explain it. Julie gazed at Luke's awestruck expression, tears leaking from his emerald eyes. And then he was somehow feeling better; her touch made him feel better and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. All she knew was that she had to try, so she quickly gathered Alex and Reggie as well and in awe, they watched as their Hollywood Ghost Club tattoos disappeared.

They did it.

The boys were free from Caleb and they still hadn't crossed over. Julie didn't have to give them up yet.

Of course, life continued to go on afterwards. The band was more popular than ever and Flynn was busy booking them gig after gig after gig. Not that they minded; it was exactly what they wanted to do in the first place. But the pressing thought never left them.

How long was this going to last?

It killed Julie to go on everyday, knowing that one day, she could walk into the studio, ready to rehearse and they could just be gone forever. It was one thing knowing, like how she knew last time. She was somewhat adequately prepared, but this time, it could happen at any time and she was far too attached now.

Julie knew she shouldn't bottle her feelings like she did last time. She had no idea when her last opportunity would be.

And Luke made her happy. He made her so happy.

One day she would be talking herself up, then the next she would be shutting down. She wasn't sure what to do, how to handle her feelings. Sometimes Luke could be so sickeningly sweet and the words were on the tip of her tongue but then he would do something so stupid or annoying that left her wanting to commit murder.

It was exhausting.

But then, one Saturday morning, Julie woke up with a fierce sense of determination and she thought: this is the day.

She wasn't sure where the surge of confidence came from, but she wasn't going to question it for fear that she would chicken out. Instead, she got herself ready for the day and dug through her dream box to pick out one of her most recently written songs.

Julie still wasn't sure how to verbally tell Luke how she felt; she wasn't sure if she could.

But why tell him when she could just sing it to him?

Julie marched down to the garage, mumbling a quick hello to her dad and Carlos who were making breakfast. Of course, the boys were glued to their instruments, most likely creating a new melody for a song Luke was working on.

"Jules, hey!" Luke greeted excitedly, his green eyes sparkling.

Julie scowled. He shouldn't be allowed to look at her like that.

"Alex, Reggie, do you guys mind going somewhere else? I need to talk to Luke."

Julie didn't mean for her words to sound so ominous; so much so that Alex and Reggie shot curious eyes to Luke, no doubt wondering what he did now. But she was a woman on a mission and she didn't have time to waste. Any time wasted was just her getting closer to backing out.

"Sure," Reggie drawled slowly. His eyes shot back and forth between Julie, with her lips pursed and hands on her hips and Luke, who frankly looked quite scared. Reggie and Alex poofed out, only muttering a quick good luck to Luke.

Immediately, Luke started rambling.

"Whatever I did, I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot, you know this, I'm—"

Julie shook her head. "Shut up."

But for some reason, he kept talking and Julie huffed in frustration.

Julie stepped across the studio, stopped right in front of Luke and his words died on his tongue. She reached for his guitar and pulled the strap from around him, placing it back on its stand.

Luke was more confused than ever.

Julie grabbed his biceps and pushed him back towards a stool. "Sit," she demanded.

"Julie, what's going on?"

"Please, just stop talking."

Julie made her way to the piano, sitting down on the bench and letting her fingers rest on the keys. It brought her some comfort for what she was about to do. Her eyes glanced up towards Luke, who was biting his lip nervously.

"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to sing it."

"Julie—"

"Luke, please," she breathed quietly and his eyes snapped to hers sympathetically. "Just listen."

Luke nodded in response. Julie could see his inability to sit still for long kick in as his knee started bouncing up and down quickly. She noticed his green eyes darting nervously between the piano and her face; the entire situation was much too anxious for him to handle.

"I wrote you a song."

Before Julie could adequately appreciate the way Luke's jaw fell open, she took a deep breath and allowed the music to consume her. She'd been going over these lyrics for weeks now; they were the truest words she'd never spoken, straight from the heart because of some ghost she'd tried so hard to hate in the beginning.

Julie was completely terrified.

But she couldn't continue on not living to the fullest. It wasn't fair to her and if by some off chance Luke felt the same way and wanted to pursue this, it wasn't fair to him either.

the way you move is like a full on rainstorm

and i'm a house of cards

you're the kind of reckless that should send me running

but i kinda know that i won't get far

His approach could be so aggressive, so eager to get things done, that sometimes he bulldozed over everything in his way. It was an effective way to get things done, but Julie always appreciated the process. Ever since they first met, he gave off a troublemaker type of vibe. Mooning Trevor Wilson always came into mind, but Luke was also the first to help her sneak out of her house using her bedroom window. It's not like the idea never crossed her mind, but before she met the boys, she never really had a reason to.

Luke changed a lot of things for her.

and you stood there in front of me just

close enough to touch

close enough to hope you couldn't see

what i was thinking of

It truly never bothered her in the beginning that they couldn't touch. They were friends, bandmates, nothing more. But then he let her into his brilliant mind and as soon as they started writing together, everything started changing. Julie didn't want anything to change, she knew it would only complicate things, but she couldn't help it.

And then Perfect Harmony happened, and her mind so vividly showed her what it could feel like and ever since, she couldn't get rid of the urge to feel his soft skin under her fingertips.

After visiting his parents and their talk on her porch, it seemed like he knew what she was thinking. He seemed to want it too, if his actions were anything to go by, but it couldn't happen. It left her feeling a tad awkward, but as soon as she got into her house, she made a beeline for her bedroom and poured her thoughts and feelings into a new song about Luke.

drop everything now

meet me in the pouring rain

kiss me on the sidewalk

take away the pain

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

When she wrote this chorus, she was on a high after their Edge of Great performance.

It was nothing that could ever happen, but it was everything she imagined in her wildest dreams.

Every girl at her age had the kiss in the rain fantasy. Julie's really was a fantasy because every time she looked at him, it was just a cruel reminder of everything that couldn't be. But she yearned for it; for everything to change, for him to help ease her pain, for him to surprise the hell out of her one day by grabbing onto her waist and ceasing her many questions with his lips.

get me with those green eyes, baby

as the lights go down

give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

His eyes were so captivating, Julie couldn't help but to mention them in every song she wrote. He knew exactly how to use them against her to get what he wanted and Julie was as weak to their power as anyone else. Sure, she put up a front; she had to, she was the boss, but his gaze truly made her weak in the knees. She dreamt of his eyes when she closed hers at night; she couldn't escape them even in her dreams.

The entire reason she was finally sharing this song with him in the first place was because the chances that he could disappear without warning were too high and risky. Julie knew that was a possibility, but her feelings for him were too strong to ignore. She wanted him and she wanted to be left with memories of what they could be together, because one day, when he wasn't around anymore, Julie could think back to all they shared together.

my mind forgets to remind me, you're a bad idea

you touch me once and it's really something

you find i'm even better than you imagined i would be

Oh God, she knew. She knew she and Luke could be so unbelievably destructive. There were so many things against them; she knew it was a bad idea. And she actually attempted to entertain those ideas, for the sake of Flynn and her own protection, but she couldn't anymore. Depriving herself of what she really wanted wasn't healthy and eventually she stopped trying to fight it.

She stopped trying to fight it the night of their Orpheum performance. When she felt Luke's arms around her, physically squeezing her as tightly as his muscles could manage, it changed everything. For better or for worse, she was completely invested now. Not just in Luke, but in all of the boys; they were family.

i'm on my guard for the rest of the world

but with you, i know it's no good

and i could wait patiently

but i really wish you would

Before the boys came into her life, Julie was on the edge. She was about to give up music, even though she loved music with her entire being. She just didn't have it in herself anymore; her muse was gone and she didn't want to share her music in a world where her mother couldn't witness it.

But then these three, random, cute, dorky boys showed up in her garage one day, claiming it was their studio and slowly, they wormed themselves into her heart. Julie didn't want to let them in right away, and she made that quite clear with her cold exterior. But then Luke just had to follow her out, pleading his case with the softest eyes and easily pulling at her heartstrings.

Julie felt her guard start to drop right there and then, and the more time she spent with those dorky boys, the less control she had. She quickly discovered there was no point in holding back around the boys. For teenage boys, they were highly perceptive to her emotions and when she wasn't being whole.

Every time Luke pulled her aside, using his words and his unbelievably intense eyes because he couldn't touch her, Julie felt her walls start to crumble. There was no reason to be anything but herself when she was with Luke; she felt it in her bones, their connection was unmatched.

drop everything now

meet me in the pouring rain

kiss me on the sidewalk

take away the pain

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

Julie would be lying if she said she hadn't fantasized about her first kiss with Luke since he became corporeal.

How could she not?

She'd been thinking about him differently ever since her uncontrollable daydreams, but it was only ever in her mind; it could never happen in real life. And then all of a sudden, it could happen, but it was still beyond her wildest thoughts.

Sometimes she found herself with an urge at the worst of moments. Luke playing the melody he created for their latest lyrics and Julie should've been focusing on the music, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from his lips. Or throughout any of their live performances, when they shared a single microphone because the fans seemed to love it (among others). They were so close together, Julie was genuinely afraid she would forget the lyrics because all she could think about was Luke and how much she needed him.

And then he'd flash his charming grin before pulling some ridiculously attractive guitar trick and Julie was once again left floundering.

get me with those green eyes, baby

as the lights go down

give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

Julie didn't want Luke to disappear.

She knew that more than ever now. She had prepared herself once, and she doesn't think she can do it again; it was far too painful.

But she knew, one day, their time would come. They'd have completed their unfinished business and they'd get the opportunity to move onto a better place. And she knew, they might not be around all the time, but they'd be watching. And she knew, when she closed her eyes at night, she would dream of Luke's smile and every emotion it brought to her soul.

i run my fingers through your hair

and watch the lights go wild

just keep on keeping your eyes on me

it's just wrong enough to make it feel right

and lead me up the staircase

won't you whisper, soft and slow

i'm captivated by you baby like a firework show

One thing Julie could commend was that touch came quite easily after everything changed. It happened subtly, with slow touches on the piano bench, then gentle touches on the small of Julie's back. Eventually, it progressed.

Julie realized, accidentally, that Luke loved getting his scalp scratched. She had collapsed against her headboard one late night, and Luke liked to check-in on her when she stayed up late doing school work. Upon spotting her exhausted eyes, he plopped down next to her, dropping his head in her lap. Julie was far too tired to protest or even consider the ramifications, but somehow her hand made its way to his brown locks. She played gently with his hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp.

It was only for a second, and she quickly pulled away to grab her textbook. A low groan ripped through Luke's throat and he blindly reached up to grab her hand and pull it back to the crown of his head. It became their thing after that.

When Julie wrote the bridge of the song, she was high off energy from their latest show after they performed their brand new song. Their performance was electric as usual; it ended with Julie laughing, opening her eyes to find Luke staring at her in adoration.

She didn't even think about it when she threw her arms around his neck in a celebratory hug.

Even when they pulled away from each other and the crowd was still cheering, Alex and Reggie somewhere on the stage around them, she couldn't focus on anything except his bright smile.

Luke quite literally captivated her with every little thing he did.

She thought for a moment: this might be it, maybe he'll finally kiss me. But truth be told, Julie was glad he didn't. If it was going to happen, she didn't want it to be there, in front of hundreds of people. She wanted a private moment, just between her and Luke; that was all she needed.

drop everything now

meet me in the pouring rain

kiss me on the sidewalk

take away the pain

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

Julie was coming to the end of the song now and she hadn't dared to look and see Luke's reaction. She wasn't sure she could handle any rejection should it come, but she knew she couldn't hold in her feelings anymore either.

Regardless of the result, Julie was still proud of herself. She put herself out there in a way she'd never done before and it was a big step in building her confidence.

get me with those green eyes, baby

as the lights go down

give me something that'll haunt you when you're not around

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

Julie rounded off the song with the last few keys on the piano, taking a slow, deep breath when her fingers ceased moving.

She didn't want to look up, didn't want to see his reaction for fear of what she might see. Luke was always very expressive; even when he didn't know exactly what to say, he would ramble on until he eventually figured it out.

But this was different.

Julie was actually trying to tell him something, trying to tell him exactly how she felt in the best way she knew how; songwriting and singing. She paled for a moment; what if he didn't even understand what she was trying to say?

"Julie."

His voice seemed amused, and her eyes immediately snapped up to meet his.

Luke was now standing in front of the stool, unabashedly holding a smile that caused her to let out a large sigh of relief. Her hands automatically flew up to cover her face in mortification.

Stick to your guns, Jules.

But she couldn't. She felt like she was going to melt into a puddle.

Julie heard Luke approach and slide onto the piano in front of her. "Julie," he laughed, and she didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. "Can you look at me?"

Before Julie could begrudgingly pull her hands away from her face, his hands reached down to circle around her wrists and pull gently. His eyes were soft, scanning her rosy cheeks and glassy eyes. She knew she shouldn't be crying, there was absolutely no need to, but her emotions were running high and this was a really huge move for her.

Julie hesitantly met his eyes. His hands stayed cuffed around her wrists, now resting in his lap. "Jules, that was beautiful. What's wrong?"

"I'm mildly mortified," Julie replied honestly, eyes dropping to the brand new guitar pick necklace Willie had given him (one for each of the boys and a new bracelet for Julie).

"Why?"

Julie's eyes snapped back up to glare at him. "Because I just basically spilled my guts out to you in the best way I know how and you haven't said anything!"

Luke didn't look phased at her change in attitude or the frustration she was throwing his way. He always knew the best way to handle her; talk her down when she needed it, or give her a reality check when she was too in her head (she'd be sure to do the same).

Instead, his hand moved to angle her chin so she couldn't avoid his gaze anymore. "Because I wanted you to look at me when I told you."

"Told me what?"

"That I love your song," Luke said softly, fingers reaching up to caress her cheek. Julie struggled to maintain eye contact when he looked at her like she had stars in her eyes and he said things like that. "And I think I've known for a while, but you know me. I'm not good at dealing with feelings."

Julie leaned into his touch. He wasn't exactly being clear, but it was Luke, so she wasn't exactly surprised.

He blinked, rubbing the back of his neck as he chuckled nervously. "Jules, I think I might be in love with you."

Julie's eyes softened, chest constricting with a multitude of emotions. Now it was Luke who was actively avoiding meeting her eyes, though he still couldn't find it in himself to stop talking.

"Not that I really know what it means. I've never been in love, but I think it's what I feel," he rambled on. "You came into my life when I really needed it. I'm better because of you; you make me better, Julie."

Julie decided it was about time she took hold of the reins again. After all, this was her idea all along. She placed her hands on either side of his face, breaking free from his hold. She pulled his face down, meeting him halfway. Julie hesitated, giving him the chance to pull back if he wanted to, but he really didn't want to.

Luke closed the rest of the distance between them, gently pressing his lips against Julie's. It was soft and simple and over way too soon, but Luke didn't want to push it.

He most definitely had just confessed his love for her and the reality was starting to hit him hard.

So, he made a joke.

"I'm sorry our first kiss wasn't on the sidewalk in the pouring rain."

A reference to her song. The push they needed.

And even though awkwardness was starting to creep up on Luke, a smirk slid its way onto Julie's lips.

"Don't worry; we'll have time for that."

Before Luke's lips could appreciate the grin he wore, Julie reeled him back in, pressing her lips firmly to his once again. Her hands found his way to his neck, slipping into his hair and scratching his scalp just the way he liked it. Luke let out a groan, unwillingly pulling away from her.

"Julie, if you don't stop, I may pass out from cardiac arrest," he mumbled, trying and failing to control his breathing.

Julie let out a short laugh. She started her day with so much confidence and it slowly swindled into uncertainty, but it all worked out. She just needed to trust herself, her feelings and Luke.

"By the way," Julie added, resting her elbows on his knees as she looked up at him in adoration, "I think I'm in love with you too."

Luke would never push her, but he couldn't lie and say he wasn't itching to hear the words. Everything she said in the song sent him into overdrive, but nothing compared to hearing her say it like that.

"Why don't we go write a song about it?"

"Good idea. I'm feeling especially inspired at the moment."

Luke leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Julie's nose. She scrunched her nose adorably in response.

"Me too, Jules."

x

i don't really have a taglist anymore (old one is outdated) and i never know who to tag so pls let me know if you want tags for any of my future fics :)