#just so you can feel at home with some people you’ve never truly Known

[dexalyys]

thinking i might be more active on tumblr… i feel generally a lot safer here (primarily due to the number of npd-positive spaces i’ve found), and also because twitter is kinda just a rancid cesspool for the chronically online. i’m going to lose my mind if i hear one more thing about celebrity cancellations or drama or whatever the fuck people care about these days. never become a content creator as a minor holy shit it will ruin your brain and scar you for life i could not be more serious. more ranting in the tags idk i need to go take a shower

[eempyreall]

♪ 444 𝑏𝑦 𝐴𝑠ℎ𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑆𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑛𝑎 ♪

༺༺ Devour ༻༻

Oneshot ~ Bonten x Female Reader

Summary ~ You are devastated to learn that your soulmates are power-hungry monsters entrenched in an illegal industry. Despite knowing they only seek to consume your life source, no matter how fast you run, you can never escape fate.

Featuring ~ Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kokonoi Hajime, Kakucho, and the Haitani Brothers

Extra Notes ~ *Slight Language Barrier

*I didn’t mean to make this story as angsty as I did.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr and ao3. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Your breathing is ragged as the platform of your shoes slam against the pavement. Liquid runs down your face as rain pours from the nightly firmament. You rub your eyes to clear the drops of water from your eyelashes so you can continue making your way through the crowd.

You’ve finally escaped your prison with nothing but the clothes on your back. You have no clue what to do other than run through this foreign city.

It was supposed to be a normal trip. An impulsive decision on your part. You decided to stay in Japan for a week just to take a break from your work life back home. Truly, you had grown bored of your everyday routine and decided to up and leave.

Your friend reprimanded you out of love, knowing you tend to act impulsive despite your overthinking tendencies. You ignored the small voice in the back of your mind and said, “Fuck it,” before buying your ticket, packing your bags, and disappearing.

What you hadn’t expected was to finally meet your soulmates.

It was a beautiful night in Tokyo. The lights of the city shimmered as busy people—tourists and natives alike—walked the streets. You strolled alone, leaving a random bar as you made your way through the crowd.

Suddenly, you feel a pull in your chest, eyes locking on the red ribbon that protrudes from the middle of your chest. You watch in awe as it spreads out in front of you, the soul tie flying through the air before splitting into seven strands.

“Seven?!” you breathe out in disbelief. You can’t fathom finding one soulmate, let alone seven.

You spent years bitter and lonely when you couldn’t find them. It was a normal occurrence to find your soulmate on your eighteenth birthday, as everyone else did in your town. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen for you.

Considering you never even felt a slight pull from your chest, it was concerning. You thought that maybe your mate had died tragically, or perhaps you were one of the unlucky individuals who could never find your mate.

You spent many nights crying yourself to sleep, as this occurrence was seen as something very tragic. You wanted to be loved. You wanted to be cared for, and you were tired of the loneliness consuming you. So when you finally felt the pull and saw the ties in a foreign setting, you didn’t hesitate to follow where they led you.

“God, I’m so stupid!” you exclaim as you recall the memory. The months you wasted being nothing but a fucking energy source caused tears to mix with the raindrops on your cheeks.

You feel broken and used. You never knew how awful your soulmates could make you feel. You should’ve known when you figured out who they were—what they stand for and their tainted morals.

“I—is this the real reason why you all accepted me? Am I truly nothing but a pawn to bring you more power?”

Your heart ached, your stomach heavy as you felt nausea build in the back of your throat at the statement Kokonoi just told you. You bring your fingers to your mouth, biting your nails as you await his response, your eyebrows furrowed.

“You are fulfilling an important role for Bonten. You can never leave.”

Your eyes widened as the platinum-haired male kept his arms behind his back, intently eyeing you with an unreadable gaze. You glare at him with anger as you step forward, his office lamp shining the only light into the dark room.

“It all makes sense now. Whenever I gave myself to any of you, I always felt pure weakness after. For days I couldn’t move after you took from me, and yet somehow you all were stronger than ever. You never even bothered to replenish me. You lied. You all lied to me!”

You fight the tears threatening to fall as you feel your face heat up with anger. The cold look Koko gives you really hurts. Where was the man with the content smile who asked you to give him a show when he had you try on new outfits? Where was the man who was a romantic? Had you really been deceived all this time?

“We did what we had to do. In order to receive your life source to the fullest, you must be happy with the circumstances, so we made you comfortable,” he said with impatience in his tone, stepping closer to you.

“You say it like it’s some sort of transaction,” you respond, disgust prominent in your expression and tone. You look at him with wide eyes, a scowl fixed on your face.

“It has always been a transaction, Y/n.”

You continue to run to nowhere, passing by citizens as you shove them out of your way, apologizing swiftly in the process. You knew that you had to at least find a place with a phone.

“I’ve been here for a while, Rin. Don’t you think I should learn more Japanese instead of you guys being my personal translators?”

The purple, mullet-haired man wraps an arm around your waist as he keeps you pinned to his lap, the rest of your legs lying on the seat of the sofa as he leans back in his seat. He ignored you while his lips grazed your neck, sucking the skin as he fed from you, the soul tie wrapped around your figures.

“Rin!” you exclaim as you try to catch his attention, pulling back from him slightly as he sighed, giving you a lazy smirk.

“You don’t need to learn any language. T’s not like you’re around anyone else anyway,” he responds before his hand meets the back of your head, forcing you into a heated kiss as you feel the drain of your energy. You obliged as you weakly kissed back, pathetically yearning for the touch as he was rarely affectionate aside from feeding. The soul tie tightens as the kiss deepens.

You grab your own scalp at the unwarranted flashback. God, you felt so stupid. It had been right in front of you the whole time and yet you missed it. Then again, maybe you hadn’t really missed anything at all. You just ignored that familiar voice in the back of your head. You blamed the unsettling feeling in your stomach on your own nerves and insecurity.

“I don’t want to see this shit anymore!” you scream at Sanzu, shoving his chest as you turn away from the limp body in front of you.

He snatches your wrists, pulling you closer to his chest with the maniacal grin growing on his expression. His enlarged pupils almost replace the blue in his irises.

“Yer gonna fucking kill him, Y/n.”

You preferred when Sanzu was sober.

Although he was still sadistic, he seemed much calmer and more collected. He was especially gentler when feeding from you in the bedroom, despite his erratic and rough behavior when he was high.

"No, I'm not! Let me go, you fucking asshole!" you yell, yanking your arms from his grip, only for him to twist you around and force you to face the kneeling man who was barely conscious.

You glare at the deep lacerations and bruises on the man’s skin as Sanzu forces you to hold the gun. His fingers are wrapped around your trembling hand as he aims the weapon at the male’s head.

Before you can react, he forces your finger to pull the trigger with his own. Your body jolts at the loud noise as the blood from the man splatters on your own legs. You begin to hyperventilate while eyeing the dead human, something you’ve never seen before.

The way the pieces of brain and blood have splattered on the floor — the way the man’s head dropped and his body limped. The dullness of his open eyes. The bullet split his skull open, the skin no longer concealing what’s beneath. His face was almost unrecognizable, split open in the top middle of his features.

Once Sanzu released his grip, you dropped to the floor, body shivering as the hairs on your arms stood straight. You couldn’t stop staring at the bloodied corpse in front of you. The smell made you sick.

Arms hugged you from behind as legs trapped you from both sides of your body.

“You killed that man in cold blood,” he chuckled, lips meeting your neck to begin sucking your energy. The red ribbon forms around both of your figures, locking you in place.

You finally reach a structure that looks inviting, with its lack of people and a bright light.

You rush to the entrance, pushing the door open swiftly. A black-haired man eyes you with concern, his hand gripping a broom.

“I need help!” The man seems to understand your distorted Japanese as he nods before walking toward you.

The palms of your hands cover your eyes as tears smear against your cheeks. Kakucho strokes the middle of your back as you both sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m tired of being trapped in here, Kakucho! I just feel like this is some sort of trick or something. Do mates really act like this over here? Everything is so much different back home. I feel like a prisoner who’s used for labor here. I can barely feel my arms and legs at times.”

He pulls you closer, causing you to straddle his thighs as he wraps his arms around your waist. You continue to cry on his shoulder before his hands rub up your torso, slightly pulling you back so you’d make eye contact.

“I want you to know that you’re important to us. Without you, we’d be weaker. We need you, Y/n,” he says before pulling you into a kiss, the soul tie returning as it traps you both together.

Your eyebrows furrow at his words. Although they were meant to sound sweet, there seemed to be a hidden meaning—or… was it really that hidden?

“I need a phone!” you exclaim, pointing at the device lying near the register. “I need to call someone! Please!”

He nods before handing you the phone.

“Thank you!” you respond before walking to the back of the store, erratically dialing your friend’s number.

“F—F/n! I need your help!”

You hadn’t been able to contact her for months, considering you weren’t allowed a phone. They told you it was because they couldn’t afford any leaks to their whereabouts, considering what they do for work.

“Y/n? Hey! Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I found my soulmates! But I’m in trouble! They aren’t who I thought they’d be, and they’ve been holding me captive for months! I—I need you to get me out of here! I have nothing! Please!”

You felt bad for bringing her into this, but you had nothing. No money, no phone, not even an extra pair of clothes. You didn’t have time to grab anything. You had to leave immediately or else you might have ended up killed.

After you stole Ran’s gun when he fell asleep, you immediately rushed to the guard who would be taking you to Mikey’s headquarters, contemplating your next move as you sat in the back seat. They hadn’t noticed the gun in your back pocket nor when you slowly pulled it out while eyeing the rearview mirror. Before they could even begin driving, you shot both men who sat in the front of the car, killing them accidentally considering you had a bad aim. You hadn’t had time to think about the fact you had just murdered two people.

“Y/n,” the voice sings behind you.

You freeze in your spot, eyes widened as your friend calls your name. Slowly, you turn to see Kazutora standing there, a grin on his face. You shakily snatch the gun from your pocket and aim it at his torso.

“Stay away from me,” you hiss with a mix of anger and fear. You watch as the soul tie forms, connecting both of your chests, the red ribbon stretching in the space between you.

“Aww, are ya really gonna shoot me? That’s not very nice,” he chuckles with mock disappointment.

At that moment, you realize that you can’t shoot him.

Why don’t they ever say it back?

The lump in your throat burns as you drop the phone, staring at Kazutora with a crazed look on your face. His grin shifts into a frown as he watches your movements with caution, the ribbon vanishing.

Is this all I’m ever good for?

“Put the gun down, Y/n,” he says calmly.

You scream, your throat gurgling with blood as you try to snatch the scissors back from Ran’s grip, the bathroom floor covered in red as he forces you on your back.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” His smooth voice is filled with unease.

You tried to cut the soul ties by stabbing your own chest. You don’t know how you survived but the medic must’ve arrived in time, rushing you to Bonten’s underground hospital.

“I don’t want to go back,” your voice breaks as your breathing becomes erratic, bringing the gun to your head.

Your eyes shut tightly with your teeth clenching.

Why can’t you just let me go?

Before you can pull the trigger, a hand roughly knocks the gun out of your grasp before yanking you from behind. A hand on your jaw forces you to face them, your teary eyes fully exposed.

Your eyes widen at the crazed look Sanzu gives you, his grip on your jaw tightening roughly as you feel his hand tremble slightly.

Neither of you says a word as he glares down at you before roughly releasing you and snatching your wrist.

Before you can begin to struggle against his grip, a syringe is gently pressed into the skin of your neck. Your shocked gaze shifts to Kokonoi, who simply gives you a disappointed look before darkness engulfs your vision.

"If you try that again, I'll keep you chained to my bed for as long as you live," Mikey warns while you lie barely conscious on your bed.

You stare back into his dark eyes before he lowers himself, his lips pressing against your forehead.

[cherry-smokes]

Don’t you want me baby?

AKA Steve doesn’t want you to meet his parents and you start spiraling Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 1.2K Warnings: hurt/comfort because Steve is just too into Sugar to let her hurt too long.

You’ve always known you weren’t a ‘bring home to the parents’ kind of girl. Frankly you took a lot of pride in it. At the end of the day you didn’t want to meet the people who created the assholes you’ve dated before. Them not offering just took the pressure off your shoulders. Relationships were always just a fleeting, sometimes fun thing. Most guys got bored after realizing they prefer to be the rockstar instead of the groupie.

You’ve denied yourself the desire for love for a long time. It didn’t feel tangible before. So why would you plague yourself with the disappointment of not being enough for someone. It was easier to live that way.

Steve made you feel different. Steve made you feel like that part of you which you had locked away for so long finally had a space to run free. That you weren’t an idiot for thinking that there truly was someone out there who would love you unconditionally. It feels too soon to say that but you couldn’t stop the freight train that was Steve Harrington from crashing into the brick wall you had built around your heart.

That’s probably why this all hurts so much.

It hadn’t even felt like a big deal to you at the time.

“I could just meet you at your place?”

“Oh…no, no I’ll come pick you up.”

“You always pick me up, let me drive. I wanna take care of you this time.” it came out teasingly. With that goddamn smile that made Steve’s knees buckle and his heart beat so strong he could feel it all the way up to his shoulders.

“No just- I’ll pick you up”

“Do you think I’m a bad driver or something?”

He chuckled at that. “Considering the fact that Eddie taught you to drive, I’m doubtful of your abilities.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve never gotten a single ticket. So you should let me treat my pretty boy to a night out and let me make him my passenger princess for once.”You grab his face and kiss him sweetly. Teeth against teeth as you both smile, but his fades faster than yours does.

“My parents are home this weekend, you don’t want deal with them.”

“Who said I didn’t want to deal with them?”

“They’re a lot.”

“Well, so am I.”

“I just think it’s better if I pick you up, yeah?”

You’ve never had a smile wiped off your face so fast. You nod and lean away from him.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

Steve makes you feel…soft. Had it been any other guy this would have never bothered you, but Steve wasn’t any other guy. He was someone you had grown to really care for. Someone you actually saw a future with, or wanted to at least. So him not wanting you to meet his parents felt like a bad omen.

If we’re closer to your family, physically and in any other sense, you would have introduced Steve to them in a heart beat. The closest thing you had to that was Eddie and the guys, and Steve had already met them.

So yeah. This was a pretty big fucking deal to you. You know the kind of girls he’s dated before. Prim and proper. The kind of girls who go on to be beauty queens or valedictorians. That never bother you before, but now you’re thinking about every reason why he wouldn’t want you to meet his folks.

Your reputation isn’t…polished. You’re abrasive, and overwhelming to some people. You hang out with ‘freaks’ and you make a living off of playing in dive bars and bartending. None of that really screams ‘life long partner.’

Maybe that’s what he’s looking for. Maybe you’re just a stepping stone for him. Some crazy story he can tell his Wall Street friends one day when he finally decides to give into his father’s wishes.

You wish all of this wasn’t running through your mind right now. Sat on your couch with Steve’s arm around you. You feel tense. Like you don’t really fit next to him. It’s been this way all night. At dinner, in the car, even at the door step to your apartment when he asked if you wanted to watch a movie instead of calling it a night.

You know what’s coming. He’s too attentive to not notice. You’ve seen how he’s cowered into himself all night and the way his eyebrows have drawn together as you brush off his affection.

You don’t want to be cruel, but you get mean when you’re hurt. You’ve never known anything else. You wish you knew a better way to deal with it but you don’t and you can’t look at this man who makes you burn and lie to him like you have to others.

So when he asks you what’s wrong you can’t bring yourself to say it’s nothing.

“Are you ashamed to be with me?”

You feel it then. His arm tenses up and it moves away from around your shoulders as he leans back to look at you.

“What?”

“I know you heard me don’t make me repeat myself.”

He looks genuinely confused. Like he can’t understand why you’re asking this.

“Why would I be ashamed of you?”

“I don’t know Steve, you tell me.”

He looks you dead in the eyes. The weight of his gaze makes you feel heavy, like you’re sinking into yourself.

“I’m not ashamed of you I l-you know how I feel about you.”

You want to believe him. You want to so badly. You want to nod and agree and curl into his side so he’ll kiss your neck and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you forget every horrible thing that’s ever happened to you both. But you can’t.

“You don’t want me to meet your parents.”

“No. I don’t.”

He’s like one of those Greek statues you see in museums. Gorgeous, and strong. The way he says it is…steadfast. One of the loveliest things about Steve is that he is stubborn…now it feels like one of the worst.

You don’t want to cry in front of him. You don’t want embarrass yourself so you choke it down like everything else and turn towards your television screen.

“Ok then.”

You rack through your brain trying to decide if you want to kick him out kicking and screaming or just let him go on his own. Before you can decide, his hand is on your face and he’s turning you towards him. His grip on your chin is tender but strong. Just like him.

“I can see those gears turning in your head. It’s not because I’m ashamed of you.”

Your eye twitches like it always does when you’re confused. He fucking adores it.

“You’re stubborn, and loud, and probably too honest for your own good. You’re…vulgar, and brilliant and you drive me fucking insane and you’re too goddamn good for my parents. They wouldn’t know what to do with you, I don’t know what to do with you but I’m so fucking thankful you’re letting me figure it out. I just want to keep you to myself so I can woo you long enough to not run away when you do meet them.”

Your bottom lip trembles. You’re thankful he doesn’t point out the quiver in your voice when you finally speak up.

“I’m not that stubborn.”

His smile is golden. You let him drag you into him as he presses his lips against yours. You want to savor it and keep him there forever but you can’t stop his hand moving from your chin and grabbing at your hair as he pulls your head back so he can he trail sweet pecks against your cheek and down your neck.

“Whatever you say Sugar.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tiny little angsty blurb for you guys<3

[gatorbites-imagines]

micheal meyers fic if you still write for him? 🎃

I rlly liked your other fics with him, not a big fan of him being characterized as overly affectionate so I rlly liked your kinktober fics about him

something in a similar vein to that? smut or no smut is chill, just him being infatuated in his own creepy way

Michael Myers x male reader

Headcanons

Im happy you like my stuff :3c ive never imagined he was overly affectionate either, it just didn’t feel like it fit his character very much, ya know? No hate to the people who write that, I just like imagining him as a creepy guy, standing there… menacingly…

I think the only way you two could have met where you made a lasting impression is if you were somehow at the same asylum as him. Be it as a doctor or a patient. But I’ve never read a fic where the reader was one of the doctors, so that’s what we’re gonna go with here.

Joining up at smith’s grove sanitarium hadn’t been your first choice, since it was known as a pretty run-down place, that treated their patients more as prisoners than people. It may have been a place for the worst of the worst, but they were still people in your eyes.

You get Michaels attention by somehow wrenching his care from Dr Loomis’s hands, using all kinds of laws and loopholes to rip it from him and then running for the door pretty much. To you, what Loomis did should get him placed in jail and his license removed, as it could only have made his patients states worse.

Building a relationship with Michael is what many would call impossible. But you believed that every person had something special that fueled them, and just being treated like a worthwhile human being always seemed to do the trick.

It took months, if not years for you to really worm your way into Michael’s heart, or whatever was left of it. He hadn’t really had many positive male people in his life, something you also blamed Dr Loomis for, but over time he grew closer to you, in his own way.

To others it may seem like Michael was the same as always, but at this point you’ve worked with him so long that you know him. You can feel his attention follow you, even when you are on the other side of the yard where the patients get sunlight.

It’s no shock that you are most patients’ favorite, especially after you become head of the hospital, after a very long and stressful battle with those stuck in their old ways. It made you start cleaning house, getting rid of bad caretakers and methods to replace them with better ones.

You took it extremely seriously, and would have any so called interviewers or investigators removed from the premises, to not mess with your patients’ care.

You gain a bit of a reputation in the media at how incredibly cruel you can be to the people who wish to use and abuse your patients. Some call you crazy for protecting them, especially as everyone knows Michael Myers resides there.

But to you, it doesn’t matter. You have no spouse, no children, you haven’t talked to your family since you left home at 18, all you truly have is your job, so that is what you use your energy on.

And if a lot of that time is spent with Michael, then so be it. Having Michael actually emote or pay attention to you, is a big step in the right direction in your book. You can never get him to talk, but he does succeed in learning a couple of signs, though you suspect he only does it because he knows it makes you happy.

Later you would look back on Michael’s escape as something you blamed on yourself. Over the long time you had been his caretaker, you always made sure to be there on Halloween, since it was such an important date for him.

He never told you this, obviously, but you could tell. It just happened that you had needed surgery around that time, something you couldn’t put off as much as you wanted. If you wanted to keep caring for your patients, then you needed it done.

So, it truly shouldn’t have been such a surprise for one of your nurses to call you in a panic that Michael had somehow gotten out. Being bedbound, there wasn’t much you could do but give orders from home and watch the tv.

You didn’t technically live in Haddonfield, but you lived close enough that you could bike to town for groceries if you needed to, but also so you could drive to work without much issue.

Seeing no reports of murders outside the usual made you sigh and slump in on yourself. You had put off taking your pain medication, wanting to be clearheaded and aware, just in case you needed to be. And what else kept one clear in the head but pain.

As bedridden as you were, there wasn’t much you could do when you heard your back door open. You only knew it was that door, as it had a loud squeaky hinge you never got fixed, as it wasn’t like you used that entrance much.

Seeing Michaels looming stature shouldn’t have been a shocker either. What did amaze you to a certain, professional extent, was that he hadn’t put on his usual coveralls or mask, instead it was one you two had made together using safe materials.

There was no verbal or physical reply when you spoke to him, outside of a slight rise of tension in his shoulders when he heard you grunt in pain, as you turned to look at him.

You didn’t want to call the hospital, knowing just how volatile Michael could be. And you may have replaced many doctors and nurses, but they still feared him, all but you at least. The only thing you truly could do was speak to him, to make him stay so he didn’t go kill anyone.

Maybe it was the years of care you had given him, but Michael at some point moved closer, just staring down at you and the bandages around your stomach.

You had a feeling he wanted to poke it or maybe just unwrap it, but you had worked with him about other people’s pain tolerance. Michael still only seemed to care when it was you, but you put a lot of stuff in his notes about your professional opinion and growth.

There were worse caretakers than Michael. In all reality he wasn’t really a caretaker. A lot of it was just him standing by the door, in the corner, or right at the foot of your bed to watch you. Hed shuffle after you wherever you went in the apartment, even carrying you when you couldn’t move too much.

you had decided to heal enough to bring him back to smith’s grove when you healed enough, already knowing how violent Michael could be with other people.

To Michael though, this meant more than you meant. He wasn’t one to feel lust or much romantic attraction, but he was drawn to you and attached enough to just stay, to even bring you your pill bottles and water, like how you would to him at smith’s grove.

You theorized it made him happy, in his own way, to know he was helping in the ways he knew how. Another more paranoid part of your brain did worry about what he did when you slept, since the pain medication had that effect.

Nothing ever looked out of place, but you did catch him kneeling beside your bed on more than one occasion, just holding your hand. Or the times hed place your hand on top of his head so you would caress him.

It was inappropriate for a doctor to do such a thing with his patients, but Michael seemed calmer and more at ease when it was just you two. He couldn’t cuddle in bed with you, and neither did he seem to want to, but being held and coddle in small amounts seemingly worked for him.

Michael clearly wasn’t pleased when you took him to return to smith’s grove, but he actually came along without issue. It caused a whole media storm, but over the years you had mastered those too. As long as it helped your patients, then you would do it, to a certain extent.

And if giving Michael weekends at your place where he got to stalk you around your own property was what he needed, then so be it. you saw it as progress, in his own, weird way. Hell, Michael even started sitting and having dinner with you instead of just hovering. To you that was a win, no matter what others said.

[atxxzist]

sweetest lies | c.s (03)

prev // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 7.7k

warning: none but lmk

you didn't want to go home because you knew that you'd have to face your sister.

look her in the eyes and see those very lips that yunho kissed and those hands that he probably held on more than one occasions, the wound still too fresh that it all still hurts.

but you didn't think you'd run smack into her before you could even pass the entrance, stopping in your steps immediately with surprised eyes similar to hers, the both of you swallowing down the same time as the air turn an awkward one.

you're about to just walk past her, the day from work leaving you tired and not in the mood for another long conversation about the topic, when your sister musters up the courage to let out a soft, "can we please talk?"

the tone aggravating you more than anything; how she can still sound so sweet and worried after what she's put you through.

you huff and merely roll your eyes, absolutely refusing to look at her although you know it's silly and petty--you being the older one but holding a grudge like no other, so much more less mature than her.

"i don't know what else is there to talk about," you respond, trying your very best to sound annoyed.

but she continues to make you feel worse with an even sweeter tone, "i'm sorry. i really am." and you can already picture the pearls in her eyes and pout on her lips despite still facing the other way.

"i know you like yunho. i do. but..." he's too handsome and charming; too sweet and kind that she also can't help but fall for him. she would never intend to steal him from you if he didn't return the sentiment.

"but he likes you too," you finish for her, something shifting in you that makes you finally look her in the eyes. "i get it. what am i gonna do? you're two grown consenting adults so i'll get over it."

you didn't even think such words could ever come out your mouth, but for the first time sounding surprisingly selfless because maybe talking to san did helped out a little.

there's a silence after that you're sure has marked the end of the topic, striving a step forward when her voice stops you again.

"we're planning on telling mom and dad and yunho's parents over dinner..." she says, delivery timid like she's just the slightest scared of your reaction.

you gulp down the knot, mumbling a dry, "good luck with that." and sliding past her.

you start seeing how truly mundane your life is once the person it used to revolve around is no longer there.

how, it’s a continuous cycle of work and coming home to a big empty house most days and watching reruns of shows until you’re bored out of your mind.

which is how you wind up at a co-worker’s house party, the young woman from the office next to you going by the name of dahyun kindly asking after a conversation with your boss about the paperworks regarding the transfer.

she joined the firm a few months after you but you’ve always known her to be outgoing and a people’s person, recalling the girl’s familiarity with everyone from the floor her second week of work.

it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you accepted the invitation and saved the following day for a night of fun, or at least you hoped so.

dahyun had said it’s just gonna be a regular house party; none of that crazy frat bullshit with the chance of someone under 20 attending, so it’s just gonna be chill and relaxing.

fives minutes into your arrival and it’s not too bad but you already find yourself hiding in a corner despite recognizing a few faces from the same working floor.

“if you’re gonna be here, you should at least try and have some fun.”

the familiar sounding voice from behind makes you quirk a brow, barely looking over your shoulder to see, probably the least expected person standing with amusement in his expression.

“seonghwa?” you say in disbelief, your body naturally following your curiosity to stand before him. “the fuck you doing here?”

“attending the party, isn’t that obvious?” he quips, continuing to close the gap before stopping with just enough space.

you scoff and roll your eyes, the sight bringing a smirk onto seonghwa’s lips.

“shut up. you know what i mean.”

“dahyun’s a friend,” he says casually, the answer making you squint.

“seriously? hongjoong and now you?” the complaint rolling off like it’s seonghwa’s fault. you can only cross your arms and sulk.

you can’t even recall the last time you actually saw seonghwa. it must’ve been your graduation or one last coincidental meeting… you don’t remember. it’s been that long.

“yeah, cause you have better things to do?” he pokes fun at the very obvious fact you came alone. “where’s that jeong boy? you know, the one that always got you on a leash.”

between hongjoong and seonghwa, seonghwa’s always been the more calm and level-headed of the two; being the voice of reason when you and hongjoong would lose it.

but on the occasion when he’d just let it go and be snarky, seonghwa could really pull a nerve.

“is that all people associate me with?” you have the audacity to click your tongue in annoyance and scoff like you didn’t do it to yourself.

seonghwa snickers.

“oh i’m sorry. it was just my most recent memory of you,” he says cheekily. voice calm but you know there’s hidden animosity underneath.

he never explicitly said whose side he took, but it was obvious from how he treated you the same as hongjoong did. it only made sense because they’ve known each other before you even came along.

you never fault him, knowing it mostly had to do with your own fuck-ups.

“hmm,” you hum, tone setting into the same sarcastic and dry one he has. “well, it’s nice catching up and all but i don't feel like reminiscing the past, so if you’ll excuse me.”

because you can admit your wrongdoings and also be both embarrassed about it, attempting to brush past him when his speaking voice stops you in track.

“hey, i was just trying to find something to talk about after all these years,” he says, half chuckling and staring at you from the opposite side now that you’ve managed to make it past him.

you snicker lowly.

“what?” you quirk a corner of your lips, continuing with amusement in your voice, “then you’re gonna say sorry? or expect me to?”

he shrugs.

"that's your choice."

but his body language now shifting, that playful look no longer in his eyes or tone, it's almost scary how fast it happened.

the next few seconds is a silent stare off, the only sound is the party music in the background and the slight beating of your heart at the ominous delivery.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying... your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

seonghwa thinks you have too much pride; the same thing you believe to be keeping you intact is gonna be your ultimate downfall because even when you're clearly wrong or you know you're wrong, you never say it.

you're one to keep it bubbled inside and carry the guilt just because you think you should be unbreakable at all times. it's such an unrealistic standard you've set for yourself.

you raise a brow at that, tilting your head in confusion.

"i know how to say sorry," you tell him sternly, attempting to convince him as much as you are to yourself.

“i’m uhm… i’m sorry,” you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can’t believe it.

“pardon?”

“i’m sorry, about this morning.”

it's beyond comprehension how san must've been the first person you've genuinely apologized to after going so many years of the word kept to yourself.

it must've been the absolute humiliation and loneliness that day that really got to you, breaking you down until you were so vulnerable with nothing but the choice to fold in front of the one person you felt you could still confide in.

san being that person is also beyond what you can explain.

but seonghwa only merely puffs and crosses his arms.

"i just think it would be great if we could be friends again one day," he says, the ominous dropping and voice turning soft and reminiscing again that it makes your eyes go wide before you see a smile turn up on his lips.

"if you ever want to reach out to me or hongjoong again, you know how to find us."

he leaves his last words of the night opened and vague, disappearing off with one last smile before he's out of your sight, leaving you with much to think about--just exactly as he intended.

there's only so much excuses to make or places to be after work just because you don't want to be there for dinner, knowing it's the day both yunho and your sister are gonna tell your parents and his the good news.

know that they're all gonna react with surprise and be so happy for them, erupting in cheers and congratulatory words that the two children they've been rooting for the longest time has finally gotten together.

there really isn't a lot, that you just sucked it up and stayed the few extra hours overtime to make up for all the instances you've slacked off, even starting on work saved for the following day, hoping it's long enough to just miss the dinner.

and just enough it is, you return right as the table's just about to be cleared, the chitters and chatters around loud enough to drown the opening and shutting of the front door with yunho the only one catching your presence standing in the hall.

"they were really happy, yeah..." he says awkwardly, standing before you in the cold chilly air of the backyard.

you really didn't want to talk about it anymore, the subject like beating a dead horse at this point. but yunho had approached you so cautiously and calmly, something genuine in his action that you couldn't say no when he asked to talk for one last time.

"hmm," you merely hum, really not made for comforting or encouraging. most of the anger already dissipated although the hurt's still there, you can't bring yourself to not feel even the slightest happy for him, even if the smallest percentage because you saw the biggest smile ever on him back at dinner.

you contemplate on what to say because yes, you're still hurt and feeling betrayed, but it's not like you can hold it over his head forever. he isn't some stranger you can easily avoid.

he's yunho and you're just gonna have to get over it; not just for his sake but also for yours just so you can feel a little more at peace and move on.

"i'm sorry," he suddenly let out, your head snapping from the ground and to his guilt-ridden eyes.

because though he still stands by what he said, not a single word a lie, the few days apart also allowed him to think outside of the box--especially from your perspective.

how selfish he really was from the start, playing along when he was being dishonest the entire time, and how much pain he could've saved everyone if he hadn't been such a coward.

if he hadn't wanted the best of both worlds and knew he would lose you in some way if you found out how he actually feels.

you have to blink a few times, feeling like a lost puppy under yunho's apologetic gaze because you honestly believe that in comparison, you have so much more to be sorry for.

and as if he could read your mind; your expression speaking for itself because you have a certain look of bafflement or aloofness whenever you feel guilty.

you won't ever say outright that you're wrong, but your body language always gave it out.

it was one of the very first traits he picked up from being around you, having seen it for himself at the starting age of twelve when you pushed a much younger san to his injury and cried--not because you got yelled at by your parents but because you felt bad.

and how distracted you were at the movies the entire time after your fight with hongjoong because you confessed to yunho a few days later that you were being a shitty friend.

you have such a way of dealing with your emotions, he wishes for there to be an outlet for you to deal with them in a healthy and accepting manner.

one that doesn't depend on him or anything else for all the wrong reasons.

"i'm sorry," he says again, eyes now softer but still sincere. "i know i already said this last time but i really got carried away and couldn't finish. but i truly am sorry. i should've told you sooner. i should've never given you any sort of false hope, and i should've just been honest from the start."

he's sure he's out of breath when he finishes, just waiting for you to now say something in return because despite all the ups and downs and shortcomings, you're the one who's been with him through most of his lowest points and he's so grateful for that.

he wouldn't want to lose you over this.

you stay quiet for a few seconds more, a mental battle in your head just so you'll be able to form something coherent when you do speak.

"we both just weren't right for each other," you say, pausing briefly, "in that way... at least."

because yunho hid things from you and you were so in your head you were convinced he was in love with you at one point, always looking at everything through a rose-coloured glass but now able to see for yourself once it cracked, just how destined it was to fail from the start.

"sorry," he mumbles, low and head still hanging in shame, you can't help the dry chuckle that falls from your lips.

"you don't have to keep telling me you're sorry. like what i told minjeong: i'll get over it."

he picks his head up from the more cheery tone, the smallest smile forming on your lips that takes him by surprise because of the illusion it gives off; that you were able to come to terms with it so fast, but he knows you and knows it's all just a facade.

nonetheless, he nods, gulping silently to pass a comment.

"i hope you're taking care of yourself."

you smile, turning your back on him and crossing your arms to stare up into the stars in the nightsky who's currently the witness to the end of your 'relationship' with the boy you've loved your whole life.

"i've considered transferring work. it's not set in stone yet, but i did talked to my boss and he said he'd help me look for an opening if i'm interested."

you think it will be good if you can seek your own independence for once, unable to think of a better time than this one.

and though you can't see yunho, you can tell he's intrigued by how his question squeaks slightly when asking.

"where would you be transferring?"

"japan," you answer, once again facing him. "it's different, but close enough where i don't have to feel like i'm halfway across the world. my boss said i have about two months-ish to make up my mind."

plus, japanese is the only other language you're fluent in. the country a similar but new enough experience and the true testimony to how you'll be, away from the grasp of your parents.

"i see," yunho replies, nodding in understanding; so much to say but at the same time unable to say anything. he wouldn't ever want to hear someone he's close to plans on moving away, but he's almost proud of you for taking that next step.

"feel free to call me up any time if you need help," he adds, a soft smile gracing his features that makes the moment so bittersweet. you wish you have the guts to hate yunho, but you really can't after all he's done for you.

you nod lightly, at the same time allowing yourself to enjoy the breeze and calm silence before letting all your guards down.

"yunho..." you call his name almost timidly, the boy responding that immediate second.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying… your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

"i'm sorry," you finally tell him, to wide and surprised eyes--unsurprisingly.

"i'm sorry for putting so much pressure and baggage on you. i also should've asked about your feelings from the very beginning. i shouldn't have just... assumed."

yunho knows it's the sincerest form of apology without the need to say a lot. from the nervous timbre to the guilt in your eyes, and even the way you start fiddling with your fingers.

he only snickers, much to your initial mixed reaction until you start warming up to it as well, the low but very real giggle leaving you putting a smile on yunho's face.

"apology accepted," he says.

you allow another giggle before cutting it short and looking at him through your blinking lashes.

"if you guys have went to this extent, then i hope you'll treat her right, jeong yunho."

you leave the night at that, a sting in your chest but you know that soon enough, you'll be relieved of it and you won't even think about him anymore.

it's after sitting down for a few minutes that you get a text from san, the funny coincidence that you were just talking about the transfer with your boss as well.

san: yunho told me

san: it's true you're gonna be leaving for japan?

you honestly can't recall how san even got your number. it must've been something you did drunkenly or he must've asked for it from yunho. but for sure, you did not give it to him willingly.

y/n: he really be snitching, huh

san: so it's true ☹️

you roll your eyes and try preventing even the smallest smirk. you haven't seen the man ever since that day and now is when he decides to reach out again.

y/n: maybe 🤷

san: 😔

san: just when we were starting to get along too

y/n: lol. you'll be fine.

shaking your head, you put your phone down to return to work, thinking to yourself there's no way san's actually serious because you're sure even if you did move halfway across the world, he would barely notice you're gone.

ten minutes of silence from your phone and you're also sure he's given up on the act--when your notification buzzes again.

san: ☹️ thought you weren't gonna run away

y/n: i'm not

y/n: i just want to do something different

san: if you say so

san: you free this evening?

y/n: i get off work in about 3 hours

san: wanna do something? 🙂

y/n: well aren't you a changed man 🙃

san: i thought it was nice the other day and i just figured you might need a distraction

you have to admit the fact you were taken aback a little; in a surprisingly good and touching way that san would care about you so much as to consider the after effect of what have happened.

y/n: if you're up for it 🤷 not like i have anything better after work

san: awesome! i'll see you then 😉

--

it's not everyday that you go waltzing into a guy's place; if at all, actually, because you've ever only graced the presence of the house next door because unlike san, yunho never had the urge to get his own place or be away from the watchful eyes of his parents.

it only takes two knocks in total for the door to come apart with san standing before it, a smile on his face and every body language welcoming.

"that was fast," you comment, walking past him to get inside.

"i was waiting," he says, calm and relaxed. "you took a lot longer than you said you would."

you shrug and plop yourself down on the couch, head snapping his way to reply.

"i had to get out of my work outfit."

he acknowledges it with a nod before seating himself next to you, his phone sitting on the coffee table in front of you gone unnoticed until you see him pick it up.

"what to order?" he scrolls through the delivery app, the same time you quirk a brow.

"stew sounds really good right now," you say.

"soft tofu stew?"

"that's fine. but make it spicy."

you weren't sure what you guys were gonna be doing once you came over, but he had just said to hang out and you thought any form of entertainment was better than none.

"any drinks?" he asks, after placing the order and getting up to walk over to the fridge.

"got any sodas?"

"i got some coke."

"that'll do."

he returns with two bottles, setting it on the table with a smirk stickered on his face, you have to reframe from rolling your eyes.

"what? no alcohol tonight?" he teases, his back falling onto the couch with hands behind his head.

"not in the mood," you reply, straight and simple.

"fair enough," he mumbles.

you let your eyes wander for a few more seconds before asking, "so, what's the plan?"

he gets up to sit straight and look you in the eyes.

"i was thinking a movie, video games, or we can just talk over food."

you hum with straighten lips, nodding and making yourself at home when it's your turn to fall back on the couch.

"anything's fine," you tell him, patting at the material under you and adding, "great couch by the way."

"yeah. it cost a fortune."

"good thing that wasn't a problem," you jab lightheartedly, because you always have wondered what the hell san does all day, besides the very obvious fact that he lives off the wealth of his parents and doesn't have to worry about anything when it comes to money... at least.

"i know what you're thinking," he says, not reactive of any kind.

"no but seriously, what do you do all day?" you ask, genuinely curious and interested this time.

he just quirks his lips, responding in the most lax tone, "enjoying life and doing what anyone in their 20s would?"

you scoff and shake your head.

you really do wish to be as untroubled and carefree as san is. the way he deals with and confronts everything as if there isn't a single thing to lose.

“it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn’t see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i’m proud of what he’s achieved so far, and he’s always had my back when needed.”

you almost can't help but to have the tiniest respect for him in that regard.

"good to know." you giggle. "but what's the plan after?"

"working on it. but not really in the hurry to rush it or anything."

you nod courtly at that, another sinking thought about how similar, yet different the two of you really are.

growing up, you've never really paid much attention to san, always writing him off as annoying and obnoxious, but when left with no choice but to face him on a deeper level, you can't help but to notice the stark differences despite relating to him more than yunho.

"and you... are you really moving? like forreal?" he says, tone a soft worried that you almost want to believe he would be sad about you leaving... being this adamant and all.

"yeah," you answer, the disappointment befalling his expression completely flying over your radar. "forreal."

"but why?" he pushes.

you shrug, everything about you relaxed--as opposed to the boy standing across as he tries to digest the very big possibility of you going away, and most likely for a long time.

"i told you i wanted to travel."

"that's moving to a whole different country," he states the obvious, much to a laughter from you as the uneasiness on him only becomes more transparent.

you laugh some more, going on to say, "don't tell me you're actually gonna be sad?" your lips forming a frown after to tease him, and for the very first time, you think san might've blushed a little.

he opens his mouth as you watch curiously, but the moment shortly disrupted by the sound of san's phone going off.

"delivery will be here in 10 minutes," he tells you still holding the device in his hand before he tosses it aside.

"i also just want to try being on my own for a while," you bring the topic back into discussion when it seems like he isn't gonna answer the question.

you add, "if i do get moved, it will be on my own accord and everything will be from my own pockets... not my parents or anyone else. boss said i have about two months and i most likely will have to train the replacement but i think it's all gonna be worth it."

you're unable to read into san's reaction, silence filling the air until he finally speaks again.

"if you want to learn to be on your own, why don't you just get a place first? you know, instead of moving across the country. as someone in the current position, it's pretty nice if i say so myself."

your lips draw into a thin line, not because he's wrong but because you've never actually thought of that. you pretty much did just jumped ship into the next big step.

"i've uh... i didn't think of that," you mumble, the words cracking a smile on san's face before a snicker rolls out.

"jesus, y/n. a bit dramatic aren't you?"

"shut up," you hiss.

as the night goes on, any doubts and worries are long forgotten when the chatters with san would go on even after the food's arrival, both chewing and talking at the same time like you're never gonna run out of topics.

the eating soon turns into a search for something to watch while the two of you squabble about anything and everything, forgetting what the hell you're even fighting him about and being surprised you could even get this worked up without the help of alcohol.

and after you're both finally worn out from the long night; the foods on the coffee table now empty and dry and the tv running for far too long, you help clean the place up when it seems he's fallen asleep and quietly make your way out of the condo shortly after.

tuesday 4:32 p.m.

san: how about this one? looks really nice and is kind of close to my place 🙂

san: *attachment*

y/n: that looks way too fancy and expensive

y/n: i just want something that's enough for one person

it's impressive; the fact san even entertained the idea of leaving everything you've already got in mind to settle for something else, but even more so that you're even considering it.

getting a place of your own and learning to live on yourself would be a lot more doable than moving across the sea and away from everyone and everything you've grown up with.

you suppose it's not a bad idea. you're just not sure if it's the right one.

san: you're not gonna find anything if you're gonna be this picky 🙄

y/n: i'm just looking

y/n: if i'm really gonna stay, i'd do the search myself

san: 😢

you don't even realize how san starts weaving into your daily life and just integrating himself into it; whether through small, mindless texts, or bigger ones like actually inviting you out or over to his place (more frequently, at least).

wednesday 1:20 p.m.

san: what time do you finish work today

y/n: i always finish at 6

san: wanna come over? i got a game we can play 🙂

y/n: it better not that stupid truth or dare

san: ☹️

san: it's not

san: it's truth or dare spin the bottle

y/n: 🥱

san won't admit how fast he came at the sound of the first knock, and you also won't admit that despite him looking very much the same, there's something different about him lately.

something you can't pinpoint but it's almost as if he's gotten more attractive somehow even though you've never really cared about any of that.

"did you wear that to work?" he comments on your outfit as you make way past him and settling inside.

"yes," you answer dryly, tone soon overturning. "what? you think i was gonna get pretty?" you smirk.

he shrugs, mumbling a "maybe" that you quietly let pass to take off your shoes.

"wanna see a few places i've looked up?" he beams, going over to the laptop that was on the kitchen counter and running over to you on the couch with it.

"why not," you mumble, scooting closer, shoulder bumping into his nonchalantly.

you watch him scroll through the abundance of luxurious condos alike his, opting to raise your brow and turn to him.

"why are they all high-profile and in gangnam?" you question.

"pfft," he scoffs, facing you head on, standing the closest he's ever been to you in a long while and remarking, "it's not like you can't afford it. come on, y/n."

"i can't." you move away from him. "if i even get a place, it's gonna be with my own savings, not my parents. i definitely can't afford a place like these. can we please look at something a little less flashy?"

he shakes his head and eventually changes the area, but an hour into the search and you're still not satisfied. the prices are either not doable or the layouts and amenities aren't to your heart's content.

"let's continue this another day," you sigh out, throwing your head back and groaning as san chuckles.

"fine," he gives in, shutting the laptop and moving it out of sight. "you're so picky."

"well you got to be. i'm sure you didn't pick this place out in a day," you say at the same time you look around.

on your own, there's no way you'd ever be able to get anything like this.

"and you don't think it's nice?"

"are you kidding?" you say in disbelief. "it's amazing. if i had the money, it might as well be my dream place. but it's okay. i can also settle for much less as long as it accommodates all my needs."

san can't help but laugh, because he thinks you're both the snazziest person he's ever met, but also the most tame, it's a bit uncharacteristic of someone who grew up wealthy all her life.

"fair enough," he says, standing up abruptly to go grab at an empty beer bottle also on the counter which you're sure he most likely prepared for, given his next set of words.

"how about spin the bottle but no dares. we can only ask questions and the person has to answer truthfully." he places it on the coffee table.

you snap to him at that with something uneasy in your eyes, prompting a comment from him.

"you scared?" he tease.

"what? no," you blow.

"then what are we waiting for?" san doesn't hesitate with one of his hands already on the bottle but you have to stop him in the process to ask one more question.

"what kind of questions though?"

it takes him maybe a second for a light smirk to crawl out of him and with a shrug, telling you, "any."

you eye the bottle on the table anxiously as it circles and clinks; not afraid of the idea of the game but more so that you're playing with san and he's gonna ask the wildest shit.

fortunately, san shoots himself in the foot.

"oh fuck, it's me."

it's your turn to smirk, letting out an almost sarcastic, "yeah."

"knock yourself out. i'm an open book."

you roll your eyes because you know he is, which is why trying to come up with something that will even faze him is gonna be a challenge.

"most embarrassing thing you have done at a party?"

he scoffs it off in amusement, like he can't believe you're even asking that.

"i thought you could do worse, y/n. but sure."

he hesitates and hums for a few seconds more before answering, "got high as fuck and almost kissed wooyoung."

a dry snicker actually escapes from your lips at the confession.

"yeah i always suspected you guys had a thing for each other."

"please don't," he says in pure disgust. "i love wooyoung forreal but no amount of high can get me to kiss the man."

you laugh, now actually the one to initiate the spin because you think it can turn out fun. you think.

and thankfully, it's not you that have to answer a question, again.

"wow," san only silently curses the double misfortunate.

"how many people have you slept with?" you blurt, bold and straightforward, san even slightly taken aback.

"don't ask questions that will break your heart."

"tsk." you roll your eyes. "you could sleep with the entire population of earth and i wouldn't give a shit."

"not even the tiniest bit?" he plays on in that voice you hate because it's always when he's trying to flirt with you.

"i'd give the tiniest shit about everyone else because poor them."

"sharp," he retracts, the amusement all over his face. "but to answer your question, maybe eight? ten? to be honest, i've lost count."

"good to know," you reply nonchalantly, nodding for him to spin the bottle this time, but you know it's only so long before your luck eventually runs out, and so it does.

"ha," he says in victory, the top of the bottle pointing at you.

"i'll go easy, don't worry just yet," he teases annoyingly, you almost want to knock your foot into his.

"what did you think of me when we first met?"

you quirk your lips and pretend to think although you already know the answer.

"well, i thought you were gonna be sweet, but that was until i got to actually know you. then you were just annoying and a pervert."

he bursts out in genuine laughter and yeah, you think he's cute and endearing like this but 95% of the time, he's getting on your nerves.

the game continues on with a back and forth of innocent enough questions; just laughing and scoffing off the ridiculousness, and you're starting to think he might spare you, until the next one turns your eyes a dark one.

"what is it about yunho that made you like him so much?"

and again, you've already stated so many times why you like him. his kindness. his attitude. the way he presents himself. the way he treats you. but if you have to pick one.

"it just seems as if he accepted me for who i am. i don't know."

the way the atmosphere shifts is scary; both of the smiles on your lips wiped and replaced by unreadable expressions as san quiets without a reply, you have to be the one to speak again.

"and you... w-why are you helping me?" you ask him.

"huh?" he repeats just so there's no mistake.

"we don't even like each other and i pretty much treat you like shit but you still seem rather concerned about my wellbeing for whatever reason."

it has gotten so silent by now, you can hear san swallowing.

"you're the one who always says you don't like me. i never said i don't like you."

it's your turn to swallow, staring back at him with nervous eyes because you're not sure how to take the statement just now or what exactly he really means.

"i just thought the feeling was mutual," you mumble, shrugging lightly.

"no. i think you just didn't care enough to ask me," he says with a dry chuckle because he's right and even you know it. your mind at the time too occupied with his brother instead.

"so like, you really don't want me to leave?" you take the opportunity to tease him, a tone on you almost unrecognizable that you think even made san a bit nervous and shy.

"you could say that," he talks lowly, on the verge of stuttering. "i've known you almost my whole life."

"and if i did?" you ask, voice turning a more serious one as the words make an etch in san's heart. it hurts to even think of the possibility.

"then i would be really upset."

you watch his eyes and lips go soft, something so genuine and sincere in his response that makes you just freeze up before breaking the tension with a forced snicker.

"you still have some time to change my mind," you encourage, because you wish for there to be bigger reasons to stay so you won't regret the could of, even if san has to be that reason.

some might call it healing, some might call it a rebound if that even applies at all, but san successfully weaves himself into your life like a routine that you're no longer fazed by a morning text or even a goodnight one.

the way he'd just check up on you during work or call during the weekends to ask how you're doing and if you're up for something together.

it's a bit pathetic he's pretty much your only friend (and even that's a reach) at this point, but you genuinely enjoy his company.

he listens well, is fun to be around, and is almost like a life-long friend who's been missing your whole life.

but while those are the ups of being with san, there's also the downs--such as the long list of girls that'd constantly ring his phone or send him a text while the two of you are together, and while that isn't any of your business, that doesn't stop the few doubts that manages to plague your mind.

are you interrupting anything? does it make you a bitch for hanging with him when he has other girls lined up? does all of this even mean anything when you could very much just be one of them?

that maybe even if there's a possibility, you could never fully give and commit yourself to someone like san because it doesn't seem like he's ready to settle for anyone.

he haven't ever had a relationship that lasted more than a few months and you haven't ever known him to have less than two option on the table.

which might be why you were so much more attracted to yunho, because in comparison, yunho seemed like he would give away his heart and soul for just you.

but you know that, though. you knew that's how san is. you shouldn't have expected anything else, but you still can't help but to feel a strange, unfamiliar sense of loathing when he's distracted by another girl.

"i talked to the landlord a few days ago and she said if i wanted to see the apartment for myself, she would be more than happy to show me," you tell san over a late night eat out; the restaurant about to close in an hour but you're sure he's not listening because his head snaps to the text he got just now.

he still attempts to sound like it's the current topic holding his attention, which you have to give him credits for.

"that's good," he shortly says, fingers fast to type something on his phone before pushing it away. "so how many more days left again?"

"about two weeks, give or take," you respond, poking at your fries with the fork.

two weeks before you'll have to make the ultimate choice to leave or stay.

it's been that long, time just flying before your very eyes to the point where yunho's presence lingering around the house for the sole purpose of your sister almost no longer does an effect to you.

"wow. already?"

"yeah."

san offers to pay for the meal and drive you home instead of the usual catching a movie at his place before the actual end of the night and it's not like you're gonna fight him on it.

he's not your boyfriend and he definitely doesn't have any obligations to follow through any routines or whatever, so why are you all of a sudden feeling so tense about it?

tense and bitter about the fact that after he drives you home, there's a likely chance there's gonna be another girl at his place.

you think you're losing it.

you had let yourself indulge more and more into the possibility of staying, which was how you found the place that you could practically call ideal.

though it's only one bedroom, the modern but warm-toned style of the complex as a whole, as well as the location and pretty much everything else is convenient and accommodates all your needs.

when you had finally set a time and meeting with the landlord, you fell in love even harder in person because the second she opened the door to the place, it was like you knew this is it.

you think it can work out. you think you can see a future in this place; in this city still. and you have been much brighter and happier lately, even telling your boss the following day that there's a big chance you're gonna change your mind about the move given time is creeping up.

you had sent a text to san so excited because you want to tell him in person, every day the chance of you actually staying increasing by the second and he had told you he'd be available tomorrow night.

despite the conflicts swirling in your stomach a week ago, san had made up for it by being attentive as usual and making you feel like he really cares about you that the occasional rings and texts not from you were starting to become bearable.

after all, what does he owe you?

you're content with just having someone to talk and share your day with. you think you can live with that.

but you didn't expect nor think that all it'd take for the doubts to settle in again is to actually face the reality of your situation, making your way to san's place as promised and seeing a familiar face on the way in.

long hair and with a frame you've definitely seen before, it's hard to ignore the sensation she manages to conjure by just merely passing you.

“why don’t you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?”

you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.

his hands on some poor girl’s waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won’t be a tomorrow.

“no thanks,” you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.

it wasn't the first time you saw her with san, because if it was, your body wouldn't have recognized her so easily as if she's a threat, replacing all the excitement and hope with nothing but old and plain insecurities.

then it's as if everything was a mistake.

choosing to stay because of san and with nothing but the hope that it will all work out... instead of going away on your own for some time and learning to really be independent.

your whole life, you've already been nothing but emotionally dependent on someone else, looking to them as a source of support, and you've realized that this time, it isn't any different.

you've just moved from yunho to san... and you didn't even like san for the longest time.

so how long before it will hit you that staying was a mistake; and especially that choosing to stay because of san was gonna be the biggest one of them all.

you have the tendency to catch feelings way too fast, and even if not romantic which you won't admit in this case (even if it might be), you react strongly to it and the feeling is consuming.

because how long before san will leave you the way yunho did?

everything may seem good for now but they will all meet the same ending. and to think of everything in perspective this way, you know you're not meant to stay.

your parents, yunho and your sister, san...

you don't feel ready for any of them currently, your life stuck at a point where you're not moving. and so you just turn back around and head home.

you think long and hard just to be sure this is what you want; then you think of how to tell your boss tomorrow, and about an hour later, you finally get a text from san.

san: you still coming? you said you have something to tell me

y/n: something came up sorry

y/n: i was just gonna tell you that i've made up my mind and i think i'm gonna go to japan

next // series m.list

taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cookiechristie @softie00 @crimson-mia @hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa @kkayfan @curryramyeon @justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi @fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @eastleighsblog @diorwoo @devilsmatches @kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch @sannwa @brown88 @sangiluvem @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps @sankatchu @lynnsqueendom @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @interweab @revehosh @byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie @shakalakaboomboo @yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny @arinyyy @svintsandghosts @yoongiworshiper @raineadlr @tunaasan @chickenscoups @nevieatiny

[tht0nesimp]

indulgent Drabble…

Idea: so have any of you guys seen those AU things where it’s like being a Yandere is a normal thing, so if you’ve seen season four you know about the wrong timeline things so like what if they ended up in one of those or this was one or something, this is probably not very well written…

tw: spoilers but not like specific instances just like information,Yandere bcs…it’s my blog, kidnapping, non consensual…everything?, normalized stuff idefk , Five is inspired by a Yandere five fic I read once I won’t even lie

thinking of them all having their little darlings and how they treat them >.<

Luther’s darling is getting it probably some of the best, he pays, and he really wants them to love him! Really! He just…don’t get mad when he breaks all your stuff, he knows that you had an ex and that the object was important, but you can’t be mad! People see you two and are probably a little off put because likely you are dwarfed by him unless your a body builder or something, he doesn’t mind, just please don’t make him do anything….:(

Diego and a little spitfire, they’re likely someone Hellbent on fighting it, clawing and biting. Hair frazzled, likely to have a hole or tear in they're clothes—he doesn’t really mind, even when he has to drag you into the mansion, the others having some level of understanding of what he’s going through because…they’ve all done it, to varying degrees of lengths and extremities. He never felt healthy love before and it’s damn sure his dad don’t love ‘em so he truly doesn’t understand why you can’t just accept love?

Allison who makes sure her precious little mannequin is well known as hers, people envy you, an amazing actor with enough money to last a lifetime?! You might be able to run off and find a closet to huddle up in at home, but she won’t be patient with misbehavior in front of the media, you will find yourself on the wrong side of a chain if you try anything. Probably not a big fan of introducing you to people personally, she loves the flashy couples stuff; at least 2 dozen roses might make up for it? Right?

Klaus is barely making it, his other siblings likely pay for and/or babysit for him. He doesn’t snap very often like his siblings, he sees you as an angel! But, not a person. Truly, I think not only would the being forced to be around a very active addict but he won’t let you do anything outside of a hobby or two! He rarely leaves you alone, and to be honest he probably uses a chain or restraints all the time because even if he can come back, he’s not physically the strongest guy—but past that, he’s always eager to help you with bathing or eating or baking or drawing or writing or drinking or meditating or relaxing or sleeping or making the bed or cleaning up or driving or going outside(ofc with him, can’t have his little martyr running around! What if someone recognizes you as his and and and the debt collectors collect you!?) or any possible task, he’ll learn to cook or bake so you don’t have to! Just ignore the small white grains on his credit card….please! He won’t get angry commonly, if ever, but in the very rare chance he gets angry it’s best to just shut up and try not to make the voice begging him to tie you back up any louder.

Five and the little doll he carries around, always looking lost and glazed over, or maybe a girl who is eerily like him, either way, he’s dressing them up in whatever he wants. He likely drugs them pretty consistently, it makes him feel good to have someone who will thank him when he takes care of them, even if they don’t know what’s going on whatsoever. His siblings are surprised at the ice cream dates and picnics he sets up, people smile at him when he goes to get you a milkshake, the guy behind the bar laughing when five pours a little packet of powder into your drink and stirs it—happily accepting the man’s offer to top up your whipped cream, so you don’t get distressed about it—all in all, atleast his darling will never have to do anything for themselves…ever again

Viktor happily plays instruments for you, learning your favorites so he can serenade and impress you. He tries to be as accommodating as possible, so patient and okay with your panic that he succeeds in comforting you. He’ll even let you help him at the bar once you get settled in, people find it adorable when you and him work together you don’t really do anything

They probably don’t have playdates very often, but the most to least well behaved would probably go

Viktors darling—Viktors humanity pays off, and his darling likely comes to terms pretty quickly, asking him nicely for things and even letting him touch them willingly!

Luther’s darling—All in all, they probably don’t have all too much to complain about. They’re awkward, but the darling isn’t clawing at him or anything

Allison’s darling—no cameras? Her darling is probably playing a Nintendo switch on a couch somewhere in the mansion, avoiding the wackos

fives darling—He’s trying, and so are they, but they’re a little out of it most of the time. I won’t give them credit for behaving because they don’t even know they’re doing something good by clinging to torso they wake up on every morning or by not biting the hand that feeds them dinner every night

Klaus Darling—Trying to run like all hell, but klaus just pulls them into whatever room has been set up for the meetup and wraps a friendly arm around them for the rest of the event

Diego’s darling—Biting at him, breaking things, all hell will break loose and he will be chuckling at his siblings as his darling tries to stab him with a fork

—

Maybe I should write more in depth personal series about it??? Who would yall wanna see first??? All of them?? SEASON 4 IS STUPID AND I HATE IT >:(

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part five.

There’s a part of you that wants to be spiteful and decline his call━ to give him even a minuscule taste of what you’ve been experiencing. It’s hard to just forget days worth of lunches spent locked away in a bathroom stall crying over his radio silence, and if he could feel even a fragment of that desperate helplessness then the fiercely vindictive part of you would be satiated.

At the same time, you also feel like you’ve been shocked back to life. Just seeing his name and catching a glimpse of the grinning selfie he set as his contact image all those years ago, makes you feel like a piece of home has been returned to you. You know deep down that there was never really any other option than to answer.

So you do.

You get halfway through saying his name when he interrupts you━ “Garrett Ward? Of all the people you could date, you choose Garrett Ward?”

The venom in his tone stuns you into silence. He sounds angry━ really, truly, genuinely angry.

Lando scoffs, “I mean, don’t you have standards?”

You’d known there must’ve been a reason for the unresponsiveness, and an ignorant part of you had hoped the unanswered texts and calls were a byproduct of his busy vacationing. You’d wanted to believe that when he called he’d have some wild story of getting lost in the jungles of Bali without signal, or that he’d lost his phone in the wilderness of the Australian Outback.

Ignoring the posts on Instagram proving otherwise was easy enough when you’d been limiting your own online activity to avoid the never-ending hatred splashed across your feed.

Deep down, however, you recognized the avoidance for what it was from the very beginning.

You know you should feel justified in being angry when he has no right to be so judgmental of you and your choices━ if he gets to be petty then so do you━ but the combination of Garrett’s surprise visit and the amendment to your agreement, and now the sudden vehemence of Lando’s own disdainful words have thrown you off kilter. It’s like you’ve taken a step off the worn path and now you can’t tell which way is back to the trail. Everywhere you turn it’s just another metaphorical boot looking to kick you back down.

You want so badly to be angry, and to rage, and shout right back at Lando that he doesn’t know the first thing about what you’ve had to sacrifice to get where you are━ that he doesn’t get to shame you for being with Garrett Ward if it means protecting what you’ve worked your entire life for. But it’s hard to feel confident when so little of your life is actually in your own control, and when someone behind the scenes can take everything you’ve worked so hard for and throw it away with the right words to the right people it makes you feel small and insignificant.

Nothing you do matters if it can so easily be erased.

So instead of yelling right back that Lando needs to watch his mouth and quit spewing shit about things he knows nothing about, you sit there and take it.

“Do you even know what they’re saying about you online?” He keeps talking. “They’re calling you a cheap whore, and a gold digger because why else would anyone in their right mind be with a lowlife like Garrett Ward? Seriously, of all the people, you pick the prick of all pricks?”

Beneath the frustration in his voice you can hear the slur of intoxication, and with anyone else it would give you hope that maybe they don’t mean what all they’re saying━ that the drunkenness is just encouraging him to go on a tangent and exacerbating the teasing he usually takes part in━ except you know that Lando’s drunk words are often his sober thoughts. They’re the things he wouldn’t normally let himself say for any number of reasons, but the liquid courage of whatever he’s had to drink has removed the filter his anxiety normally keeps in place and everything’s coming out whether he wants it to or not.

“I mean, do you know what this could do to your reputation? The comments are just filled with people tearing you apart and saying anyone could probably have their way with you because you’re a slut.”

Everything he’s saying now is what he believes.

“Obviously I know you’re not a slut, and the people we work with know you’re not a slut, but nobody else knows you the way I do━” he clears his throat. “We do,” he corrects. “Which means they see those comments about you sleeping with every athlete you work with, and that you’ve only got your job by fucking your way to the top, and they believe them. And I don’t want them to believe them, because you’re not a slut.”

He groans, “But Garrett Ward? Garrett fucking Ward? Like, were you drunk or something when he asked you out? Because nobody in their right mind would soberly agree to be Garrett Ward’s girlfriend.”

Honestly, you wish you would’ve been drunk when you’d succumbed to Garrett’s threats. Maybe it would’ve softened the blow a bit, or at least given you something to blame it all on━ remove the shame by passing the responsibility off onto a bottle of wine, a few shots, maybe a martini or two.

“I thought you were smarter than that,” he scoffs, continuing with his vitriolic rant. “You of all people should know that getting involved with athletes is risky, but especially guys with reputations like his. He’s been caught by the paps going to three different girls’ houses in a single night. Is that the type of guy you wanna associate with?”

You’d thought you would be okay with being berated and yelled at if it just meant getting to hear his voice again, but you’ve realized by now that there’s probably nothing more painful than having Lando be genuinely upset with you.

He pretends to be upset a lot, when he’s joking around. He once spent an entire weekend talking to you exclusively by using Carlos as a middle-man when you’d posted a picture of him for April Fools that hadn’t been the most flattering, and he’d only broken at the end when you mentioned you’d be sure to get his good side, to which he’d chimed in predictably that all sides were his good sides.

Apart from a handful of rare moments that are few and far between, you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen Lando genuinely mad━ and never at you specifically.

It makes you miserable.

And the reason why it makes you miserable makes you even more miserable.

You aren’t sure when it happened━ can’t place it exactly, the change was so gradual━ but at some point in time, the feelings you felt for Lando stopped being platonic and started being more. More than what friends feel for each other. More than what friends should feel for each other, especially friends that work together in an industry where everything exposed to the public eye is scrutinized and studied beneath a microscope to be criticized and torn apart.

When the realization hit you, however, that the butterflies in your stomach, the giddiness in your heart, and the overall sudden behavior change to that of a girl with a schoolyard crush was all for Lando, you shoved it down and locked it away with the thought that if you didn’t acknowledge the feelings, then they might eventually disappear as so many of your other crushes had in the past.

The only issue was that you still worked alongside him and he was still himself, and instead of the feelings fading away with time, they just got stronger. Stronger, more obvious, and harder for you to ignore.

But for the sake of your friendship and your career, you did. You had to.

You kept it all hidden away and played the part of the perfect friend, content that if you couldn’t have him in the way you wanted then at least you could stay by his side in the way you already were. You’d get over it eventually━ you would have to. He’d find someone else, and that would be the end of it.

It doesn’t make things any easier, though.

There’s a voice that sounds suspiciously like Daniel in the background on Lando’s end, but whatever he’s saying is too quiet for you to understand. All you gather is that whatever it is, Lando disagrees, and then the call drops and you’re plunged back into the unsettlingly loud quietness of your office.

There’s a different man’s voice echoing in your head now, and you’re loathe to say it, but you wish it was still Garrett’s.

Just a few hours later and you’ve made it to the end of the day, but it’s still a few hours that you’ve had to sit and stew with your emotions. The frustration and hurt has simmered low in the pit of your stomach and now it burns high, transformed into rage. It feels like a fire curling up within you━ blazing at your insides, leaving everything it can reach singed with the heat of your anger.

If Lando wants to play this game, you will play along.

You’ve played a role for years now━ hidden your real feelings behind the kind of feelings that are appropriate for friends to have, said the things friends are supposed to say, did the things friends are supposed to do. You’re not a stranger to wearing a facade, and this thing you have with Garrett is just another role you’ve been reluctant to accept.

But if Garrett gets something out of this agreement with you, then you might as well get something out of it for yourself as well.

If he wants you to be a good little girlfriend, then that’s what you’ll be, and if it gets on Lando’s nerves then even better.

You find Garrett in the physio’s office, scrolling through his phone with a pack of ice resting on his foot. There’s no one else around, so you figure he’s at the tail end of his appointment and is just following the last of the instructions given to him.

He looks up when you open the door, and raises an eyebrow.

“Can I help you?”

“Actually, you can,” you answer. “I’ll play along with this little plan of yours, like, really play along, be a good girlfriend, the whole shebang. But I want something out of it.”

He scoffs, “ More than the reputation of being a footballer’s girlfriend?”

“If I’m giving my all, then so will you.” You say instead of answering, taking pride in the way his brows dip down low and his eyes narrow.

Your phone pings in your pocket, and you spare a glance down at it.

“Sorry about Lando,” says Daniel’s text. “He was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying. Don’t listen to him.”

You swipe out of it without answering. What’s done is done. Neither of you can go back.

When you look back up at Garrett, he’s appraising you thoughtfully, and then he nods.

“Deal.”

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━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings

━━ a/n: this part took so long to write, partly because i was struggling with just how i wanted to do it and then partly because i have just been so busy the past few days and didn't have time to work on it. the last little bit with garrett was actually written on my phone at a club earlier, so if it seems rushed or out of place, that's why, please forgive me, i was just did not want to work on this part any more 🥲

[dancermk]

HELLO MY FELLOW TRAVELERS!

I, like many viewers, have been completely entranced by Hawk and Tim’s love story in Fellow Travelers. As a mature queer person, this show has been very emotional, and I am deeply invested. (I WILL riot if Tim doesn’t get to die in Hawk’s arms, and know that he is, and has always been, loved by Hawk.) But I digress.

Something that I have been fascinated by are the differing opinions that have surfaced about the characters, especially Hawk. I’m not looking for any arguments here, everyone is entitled to their opinion, and this is simply mine. To me, Hawk falls hard and fast for Tim. He breaks all his own rules for Tim - they topple over like a house of cards.

When we are introduced to Hawk, he’s cold and heartless with the men he hooks up with - they are nothing more than a body to fulfil his sexual needs and desires. He doesn’t do repeats and he doesn’t bring them home. But Tim, he instantly begins returning to, gets him a job, then allows him into his own apartment, etc. When Tim pushes back, Hawk relents further, letting him in emotionally, sharing parts of his past, crossing lines by introducing him to others in his circle, and so on.

Hawk is a traumatised man, carrying guilt and anger and shame, and a bucket load of fear! Yes, he has some internalised homophobia, but interestingly, he’s also extremely righteous about his homosexuality -and I don’t believe he thinks being gay is wrong in any way. (His response to his father is indicative of this).

I can personally say that I’ve never thought it was wrong to be queer, yet I spent much of my life hiding who I was and feeling shame. It’s an odd thing! Perhaps it is that the shame forms purely from what is outside of us, while what is inside of us can love another person of the same sex, knowing it is right and pure. Perhaps these contradictions between self and society are what causes so much pain and conflict?

But back to Hawk. Hawk is undoubtedly most affected by his teenage first love experience. A love that he fucked up through his own fears (fear for many men is unacceptable and a sign of weakness), and now carries the burden of believing he is responsible for their death. Hawk doesn’t allow himself to love again, until Tim. And we see many times throughout the show how much Hawk fears losing Tim. And in the end he’ll have to face that fear. I think that, in part, not attempting to have a life with Tim, is also fuelled by his fear of fucking it up and losing Tim - so it’s easier to just not attempt it! In episode 7, when he loses his son, part of that spiral is Hawk recognising that he can’t really prevent loss, and he wasted his life trying to be something he’s not - still losing his child and Tim along with it.

But Hawk is a survivor! And no one has the right to hate or judge him for it. I don’t think some young people truly understand what it feels like to live in a world where who you love can put you in jail, and destroy your life. I grew up in the 70s/80s and my experiences were bad enough, but I try so very hard to think about what it was like before that! When being queer was a crime and a mental illness! That’s pure terror! And for Hawk, he chose to survive the best way he knew how, and he wasn’t able to change because that’s fucking hard when all you’ve known is living in constant ‘fight or flight,’ and when have chronic trauma and experience collective trauma.

I think in episode 8 we’ll finally get to see Hawk grow - I certainly hope so - because he deserves to be free. Our beautiful Skippy has been free for some time, and while we mourn for the cruelty of a world that would take such a truly decent man, I am glad he got to live freely. Being closeted is the worst kind of suffering- a compartmentalised and fragmented existence where you are never truly whole, and therefore can never be the best version of yourself.

Before I go, I just wanted to also talk about being in a closeted relationship-which I experienced in my youth. I think that Hawk and Tim’s intense and toxic and exquisitely beautiful relationship, in part, arises from this. Because two closeted people in love live their relationship in secret, in a bubble, only in certain rooms, with none of the outside world reflected back at them. It becomes the two of you against the world. It’s so insular. Hawk and Tim literally live their 1950s relationship within two rooms - their apartments. All their memories are held within those walls. And it only belongs to them. They know each in ways that no other living soul does. It’s all-consuming and often unhealthy, but also stupidly romantic.

Anyway, sorry for this long winded post that no one will read and is likely full of grammatical errors because I’m tired! This atheist is praying we get everything we need from episode 8! Acceptance, forgiveness, understanding resolution, healing and a whole lot of love! ❤️

Cheers queers! 🏳️‍🌈

PS Matt and Johnny are exquisite on and off screen and I am so thankful to them for bringing these characters and this story into our lives!

[crenna]

i’ve been tagged in a few of these posts and my heart is so full of love and gratitude today so you all can bet i’m getting emotional here 🩷

during the past year i’ve had the privilege of meeting some of the kindest, funniest and most beautiful (in every sense of the word) people here and staying in touch with some older friends. whether we’ve talked for hours every day or liked a post here and there from time to time, i appreciate every single one of you guys, so much. you’ve made this year incredibly special to me and i’m so lucky to know you all!!

happy new year, thank you for existing 🩷

i couldn’t resist saying a few words individually to those of you that i’ve talked to more, so here goes:

@his-littlefox DAPH!!! i love you so much, i can’t believe i’ve almost known you for a year now and on the other hand that it’s only been a year. you’ve brought so much light into my life since we met, just having you around feels like the sun is shining. you have the biggest heart in the world, truly — i admire every day how much you care about everyone and stay true to yourself no matter what!! i hope all of your dreams come true this year, you lovely beautiful girl, i can’t wait to meet you <3

@meangirlsbway BING my exile buddy, partner in crime and plotting, i don’t even know where to start. i feel so lucky to know you, talking with you has become a beloved part of my days. you have a magical talent for bringing people together — i see it all, the way you organize things and make sure no one feels ignored and suggest we play games and do things together. you deserve every single good thing in your life and more. if i’m honest, talking with you for 8 hours straight was my favorite time i’ve been home alone and i’ll ruin my sleep schedule any day to write with you. i love you so much <3

@sweetreveriee VEEVEE you absolute cutie, there is so much energy and love in you that i can’t even begin to put it into words. like i’m surrounded by absolute rays of sunshine??? and i wouldn’t have it any other way, ILYSM like i said earlier it’s an absolute joy to be your friend, you beautiful sweetheart <3 i love chatting with you and seeing you ramble about books and shows you like. have the best new year ever i hope it will be everything you dreamed of!!

@thebirdhivemind NOLA what a heart and mind you have, i’m honored to know you!! you’re caring, funny and wise, and i really admire you for all that and so much more. i think words are a superpower of yours — you have a brilliant imagination (i can’t wait to read your novel one day!!!) and i don’t know how you do it, but you always know what to say. the warm atmosphere you create wherever you go is not something to take for granted. i love youuu i hope you will have the year of your dreams <3

@feerique LYLAAA i can’t explain how intimidated i was by you a year ago (or almost a year?? idek how long it has been) but i really shouldn’t have been because while you’re an iconic queen of fashion and aesthetics, you’re also such a sweetheart ajfksbfbdb. i love yelling about random things with you on discord and i miss you!!! i love you MWAH <3

@sitting-in-a-library what a kind and funny and creative person you areee it’s always such a joy to see you around!! i’ve lost count of how many times i’ve said ”real” or some variation of it to you during the past year. it’s also so much fun to write with you, even if we haven’t interacted directly in a moment i’m never not having fun stalking your rp accounts hehehe. i hope you’ll have the best year ily!!! <3

@ijustwantmycoffeback GIGIII the energy and love you put out into the world and show to your friends, oh my gosh. it’s something that i hope people aren’t taking for granted because it’s beautiful!! and you deserve just as much love from the people around you. i hope all your dreams come true and more, i love you MWAH this year better treat you kindly!!! <3

@midiosaamor BELLE it’s such a joy to have you around and to know you!! you’ve somehow found the perfect balance between silly and classy and confident, you’re always working on something or learning something and i honestly think that’s amazing. also everything you do is so aesthetic i don’t know how you do it!! keep writing and dreaming and being you, it will take you so far. ilyyy happiest of new years!!! <3

@highladyofterrasen7 first of all you have such a good timezone, i love seeing that when everyone else is asleep, you’re still active. technically not everyone else is asleep these days but the point is, it’s always been fun to chat with you!! and write, it’s been too long since we last interacted rp wise but you’ve come up with some absolutely hilarious characters and plotlines. happy happy new year!!! <3

@rizzgoddessans ANS i feel like it’s either been a second since i’ve seen you or i’m always conveniently offline when you’re not, but seeing you online feels like the whole gang is together!! it’s always been so fun to chat with you (maybe i’ll change my name back to the font that makes it look like ali sometime HEHE). you’re amazing, i hope this will be an amazing year for you <3

@xoxzso ADDAAAA I LOVE YOU you’re actually a little chaotic ball of sunshine and you bring so much life everywhere you go. we need to talk more, it’s genuinely SO FUN to chat and write with you (i grin like a maniac when i see the notifs, dante is here for whenever you want to slander him heheeee)!!! have the best new year ever <3

@beabeebeee beaaa i feel like it’s been forever since we actually talked but it’s so nice seeing you around on tumblr and interacting from time to time!! i hope so many good things happen to you this year, happy new year!!! <3

@ladysdevotee jess omg it’s been a while since we last talked but you make the insta gc feel so much more alive, it’s so fun to chat with you every time that i do!! ALSO your aesthetic >>> the pink and green combo is so cute. happy new yearrr!! <3

@letmeliveinelfhame CAIT you’re such a kind and fun person to be around, i feel like it’s only from time to time that i’ve interacted with you but it’s always been a joy!! it feels like you put your heart into everything you do and it’s so lovely. i hope this year will be just as lovely to you!! <3

also you guys in the book server!! @cavernouswastaken @balladofareader @thornveili @kit4strophe @merlinsleftit @viivdle @tiredpapergirl and SO many more!! i sure hope i’ll have time to be more active there this year because it’s such a lovely community, i love seeing all of you there every day. you guys are so funny and sweet and talented. it’s amazing how much the server has grown, i can’t even keep up with everyone’s tumblr urls (ik this isn’t even nearly everyone I’M SO SORRY) and i can’t wait to interact with all of you more so that i will <3 happy new year you all!!!

@peculiar-potato HI it must have been years since we last had a long conversation or were both active in the same fandom but just seeing you exist online makes me happy and feel like i’m home in a way — can you believe we must have known each other for like eight years now? because i can’t!! i hope you’re doing well and that this year will be awesome for you <3

@starcrossedandstupid we haven’t talked that many times or had that long conversations but every single time i see you in my notifs, it brightens my day. truly!! you honestly seem so cool and nice and i would love to talk more sometime. i also still can’t believe you also know mystreet, it feels so nice knowing i have a mutual who i can talk to about the one fandom no one else knows!! have the best new yearrr <3

i can’t wait to interact more with all of you this year 🥹🩷

[sadcoms]

“the doctor didn’t tell rose anything about gallifrey/the time war/his previous companions/his family etc” i do not actually believe he never mentioned his home planet to rose and i think she had to know at least a bit about the time war after everything with the daleks but

sometimes you need someone who doesn’t ask about your past, especially when it is dark and difficult. and i think that is part of why the doctor and rose had this instant recognition and understanding of and about each other. i assume the doctor knew about jimmy stone (though not the actual details for quite a while) but not the way mickey and shareen and jackie did. yes they still loved her but they also knew all of her mistakes; they knew her when she was a sobbing, robbed sixteen year old and a lot of people just would have known her as “rose from the powell estate” or “rose, jimmy’s ex” and i think she felt trapped by that just as much as she felt trapped by feeling purposeless or powerless.

so of course rose isn’t going to push him for more about the time war, she knows enough. she clearly recognises that he’s trying to move forward and just reminds him that he has her beside him. and that’s what they give each other, not just a future but a future they actually think is worth living. when they first meet they’re both living on autopilot because they don’t really know what to do, and then suddenly there it is. something to genuinely move towards.

and i think the transition from nine to ten is kind of like when you’re daydreaming because you’ve had a really nice day and you’re like “oh the world isn’t actual hell” and then you wake up the next day to apply for that dream job or paint your bedroom yourself or bake cinnamon scrolls from scratch even though you only ever make packet brownies. and actually it’s hard: you don’t have the practise and you need to buy a shit ton of paint/brushes/ladders, or you don’t actually want to sit through 7 rounds of interviews, and rose is still going to die someday. but god, you still want it. and for the first time in forever you can actually tell her something about that life before you met her, when you were a dad once, and it’s the first time you’ve been able to say something like that without feeling like the floor has collapsed under you. rose has loved you without knowing all of your past, so maybe it can’t hurt to tell her more.

and then of course he loses her anyway and spends all of s3 being unable to go anywhere without being confronted with some reminder of the past, both rose-related (which, based on gridlock, he on some level sought out) and not. and it’s so much darker and unsafer than it was with rose, so much more hopeless. he no longer wants to talk about the future or even particularly on the present, and it hurts to talk about the past too, especially the past with rose (which he describes in utopia as “a lifetime ago” and “the olden days”, never mind that it can’t have been more than a few years between s1 and s3. he just feels so distanced from it all, that level of contentment he had as nine). no wonder he’s stuck.

and he stays that way until he finally gets everything he wants with rose, that future where they get to grow old together and he gets to truly have a family. or, until he becomes the past itself, regenerating into a new person

[heliads]

Hello 💕🌸 can you do a Thomas modern au fic when the reader is not well, sad. And Thomas come to her house to shower her «  the boyfriend package » : hug kiss, etc… the reader is adopt sister of Brenda, Teresa is Thomas twin sister. Newt is their best friend (who also had been matchmaker before they dated..) can you do à maximum of fluff please 🥹🥹

'boyfriend checkup' - thomas

masterlist

Being sick is terrible, isn’t it? From the second you felt the first threads of the cold start to clog your throat and nose, you knew it was all over. Mentally, you signed your death certificate: Y/N L/N, passed away today, gone from the most horrific cough known to man. That’s how it felt, at least, yet you’re still expected to get up and act as if nothing was the matter. Those kids with tuberculosis in the Victorian age who got to lie around in bed all day while their parents treated them like royalty didn’t know how good they had it.

Thankfully, you have at least a couple of days to feel better before you really have to be productive. You started feeling poorly on a Friday, barely managing to stumble through class before heading home as quickly as you could. Not wanting to complain and spoil the good mood of everyone excited about their weekend plans, you had tried to tell as few people as possible. Specifically, you hadn’t told your boyfriend, Thomas, but now you’re missing him more than ever.

It’s not like you’re intentionally trying to keep things from him, you just don’t want him giving up whatever fun things he was supposed to do this weekend so he could hover over you. You love your boyfriend more than anything, honestly, but when it took you so long to admit your feelings for him because you were certain he would never like you back, small things like this make it even easier to talk yourself out of thinking he’ll want to know about it. Thomas is the varsity cross country athlete, the popular one. He loves you, and he’ll tell you that as many times as it takes so you believe it, but some part of you will always wonder why.

That’s why you haven’t told him, not yet, although you have a feeling that he’ll find out sooner or later. Your adoptive sister, Brenda, is best friends with Thomas’ twin, Teresa, and they trade gossip like no one you’ve ever seen before. Both of them have repeatedly assured you that Thomas is head over heels for you, but what if he’s not quite infatuated enough to want to drop his weekend plans to take care of an invalid?

As the cold progresses, though, you start to wish that you had bothered him anyway. You’ve shut yourself up in your bedroom with all the lights off, just lying there and reminiscing about the golden days when your nose had worked as it was supposed to. You had taken so much for granted, and now you’re afflicted with a truly terrible fate indeed.

You’re miserable even on a Saturday, which is how you know things have truly taken a turn for the worst. Not even the weekend, the blessed release from work, can lift your spirits. Your best friend Newt was the only one who knew that you were going through it, and he’d made you promise to call him the second you started feeling better so he could plan a friend group movie night or something. Newt’s always the one on top of stuff like that. You doubt any of you could accomplish anything without his work behind the scenes to keep you all organized. He holds all of you together and keeps anyone from straying too far.

You had hoped that Newt would forget that you were feeling down, but it’s half past noon when your phone buzzes with an incoming call from the blond boy. You briefly consider just letting it go to voicemail, but that would alarm him even more than if you admitted that you still aren’t feeling your best.

You end up giving yourself a second or two to put on your best fake smile before answering the call. Thankfully, Newt had elected to go for just a talk over the phone instead of FaceTime, so you only have to disguise your voice and not your expression, too.

Newt’s voice rings over your phone. “What’s up, Y/N? How’re you doing today?”

You’ve never planned on a career as an actress, but when you answer Newt as happily as you can, you start to consider it. You sound chipper and excited, surprising even yourself. “Doing fine, Newt. How about yourself?”

Maybe this is actually doable. Maybe you might be able to convince your friend that you’re fine so he doesn’t do something terrible like try to get involved. Right now, you just want to be left alone to wallow in your dark room until you’re physically forced out of it.

Newt clicks his tongue in disapproval, sending a rush of static crackling over the phone. “Y/N, are you being honest with me?”

You start to sputter in surprise. Hadn’t your ruse been perfect? “What? Of course I am!”

Newt lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Sure thing. We’ve been friends for years, I know when you’re lying. You want to let me know how you’re really feeling?”

“Really, I’m great,” you eke out. “You’re being paranoid, Newt.”

“Am I?” He asks.

“No,” you admit. “I’m still miserable. My head is killing me, and I haven’t left my bed for more than a couple of minutes all day.”

Newt sighs. “That’s what I was worried about. Is there anything I can do? Maybe rally the group to swing by your house to cheer you up?”

“No, honestly. I don’t want to do anything. Hopefully I’ll get better soon, but until then, I don’t want any crowds around.” You tell him.

Newt pauses for a moment, thinking, then asks, “What about just one person?”

You frown. “Are you offering? I thought you were busy all day.”

“I am,” Newt clarifies, “But Thomas isn’t.”

You go silent. Newt, always the perceptive one, sighs again. “You haven’t told him that you’ve been feeling under the weather, have you?”

“No,” you admit, “but I didn’t want to bother him, that’s all. There’s nothing Thomas can do about this. I don’t want him to worry about something out of his control. He’s already got enough on his plate already, you know that as well as I do.”

Although this conversation is happening over the phone, you can picture Newt’s look of disappointed consternation anyway. “No, he would be furious with me if you were sick and I didn’t tell him. I’m letting him know immediately.”

“Newt, don’t you dare,” you admonish.

He just chuckles. “Too late. Texting him now. With any luck he’ll be over within the hour.”

“You’ve betrayed my trust. You’re a terrible friend,” you admonish him, but only half heartedly.

Newt laughs openly. “No, I’m a fantastic friend and you know it. Did I not use everything in me to get the two of you together?”

You giggle in spite of yourself. “You did indeed. I remember you bringing that up many times.”

“As I deserve,” Newt grumbles. “The two of you fought me all the way despite supposedly wanting this. He had better make you happy now, I’m not ruining all of my hard work for a bad cold.”

You smile. “Thanks, Newt. I’m very glad that you suffered so much for us.”

“You had better be,” he says, but he’s laughing when he hangs up.

Seconds later, you get a text from Thomas: On my way ASAP. Might be breaking the speed limit.

You grin and text him back. Don’t get pulled over.

Never, he answers, and he’s true to his word, a knock sounding on your front door about five minutes later. The rest of your family is out of the house, so you have no problems creeping down the hall to unlock the door and let him in.

Thomas swoops in immediately, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before pulling away so he can get a good look at you. “How are you feeling, Y/N? Dizzy? Feverish? You look alright, if a little tired, but let’s get you back in bed at once.”

You laugh. “I’m not dying of the plague, Thomas. I’ll survive standing up for a few more seconds.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to,” he says. Pausing briefly to leave his shoes at the door, Thomas proves his point by picking you up in bridal style and carrying you back to your room despite your protests, which are admittedly pretty halfhearted.

Once Thomas has gotten you back in bed again, found a glass somewhere to bring you water, insisted on watching you drink all of it, run back downstairs so he could fill it again, and returned, he perches on the side of your bed, gently squeezing your hand.

“Well, Doctor Thomas?” You ask teasingly. “What’s your diagnosis?”

He grins and plays along. “Not terrible. I recommend bed rest, and maybe also letting your boyfriend know when he needs to take care of you.”

This last bit is delivered with increasing passion, and you’re left sheepishly smiling at him. “Alright, maybe I should have told you in the first place, but I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“Worrying is my job,” Thomas says, “I am excellent at it. Also, if I think you’re not telling me when you need extra love, I’ll worry even more than usual. The only way to keep me from worrying is to let me know when you’re sick or hurt. Deal?”

“Deal,” you agree, and smile when he kisses your cheek.

“You should get some rest,” Thomas urges you. “Here, I’ll close the door so the noise from downstairs doesn’t bother you.”

He moves to stand, but you reach for his hand and he freezes at once. “Stay with me?” You ask hopefully.

“Of course,” he smiles, and, careful not to disturb you, climbs into bed next to you, lying down on top of your blankets to keep his street clothes off of the mattress. You curl into him, letting your eyes shut as the steady beat of his heart lulls you to sleep. Once you wake up, you’ll feel better, and be more open to conversation, but for now, both of you are quite content with the silence. Peace is good for both of you.

requested by @hope92100, i hope you enjoy!

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss, @hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[arendaes]

same ghosts in a new home

I've been trying to find some writing prompts to turn to when I want to write but don't know what, and when these prompts passed by my dash earlier I knew I found the list to pull from. I used a random number generator to pick which prompt to write. Up first we have:

same ghosts in a new home (961 words)

Fandom: Pathfinder Wrath of the Righteous

Rating: T for implied sexual activity (nothing graphic)

Ship: The Commander/Daeran/Woljif

Other notes: Second Person POV

In some of the books you’d read in the past, you’d run into descriptions of the lingering effects of an argument. You’d always dismissed them as poetic hogwash. But now, as you stand in the middle of the sitting room of our new home, you could swear there was an echo, the last vestiges of heated words and raised voices falling back through time to haunt you. 

Truthfully, you're not sure what you said to set Woljif off, or why I was upset with your refusal to apologize. We knew what you were like by now, and you thought you were being nice. Though, if you're being honest with yourself, you know how your words can land more like poisoned barbs than playful jabs. This fight might not be entirely your fault, but you're not completely innocent in it either. 

With a sigh, you turn towards the liquor cabinet, situated right next to the stairway you once sat in waiting for us to join you in. You remember the soft words and the heated embraces, reminders that your melancholy was as ephemeral as it was unfounded. Even now, the memory brings a small smile to your lips. “You will never pale into insignificance.” “You're stuck with us, Your Excellency.” 

To the hells with it. Abandoning your original trajectory, you turn towards the door. Judging by the light filtering in through the window, you have a couple hours yet before the sun goes down. Perhaps you have a plan, perhaps you just want some fresh air. Either way, you’re out of the house before you even realize it. 

****

Now, as for you, Woljif, you had stormed out of the house into the backyard. It was still mostly an overgrown ruin, a choking tangle of weeds and debris that I intend to one day transform into a garden bursting with life. The only thing of note was the small part of the Sellen River that flowed through it, a sliver of pure, bubbling water that you once spent an evening frolicking in with Daeran and I. The memories are pleasant, and the guilt that pervades you at their arrival is entirely unwelcome. 

With an aggravated sigh, you pull one of your daggers out of its holster. Even now it’s a habit to make sure you’re armed. Maybe there will come a day when you don’t feel the need, and when it comes, that’s how you’ll know you’ve truly lost your edge. With a frown, you toss the knife at a nearby stump. It sticks with a loud thud, not unlike the sound the door made when you slammed it come out here. 

Your edge…that’s what this about. Just two years ago you were still running with the Family and scrabbling to get by day to day. Now, here you are, married to two of the most prestigious people in the country and the beginnings of a home to call your own. This is something you should be happy about, and you are! But there is a part of you that feels like you’re betraying everything you’d ever known, stabbing the boy you once were in the back for the first shred of kindness and love that had been shown to you. 

You pull the dagger free, all the anger in your veins dying as the blade comes loose from the wood. Daeran didn’t mean anything by it, but the quip had been phrased just right, careless in the way only someone who’d never faced such hardship could be. Now you know that the wounds of your past still stung.

Taking a deep breath, you flop onto the stump, staring out into the sunlit water. Just a few more minutes, then you’ll be ready to go back inside. Whether it’ll be to make amends or fan the flames again, you’re not sure. But judging by the loose grip you have on your dagger, you are so much more tired of holding grudges than you realized. 

****

At least, I want to believe these are the thoughts that ran through both of your heads. Earlier, when Daeran’s comment landed poorly and led to the most explosive fight I’d seen you two have since the Crusade, I’d felt perfectly useless. All of us still carry the ghosts of our past, and we’d spent so long trying to bury mine that I’d forgotten that you two still had yours to deal with. Words cannot describe how inadequate I felt as a partner in that moment.

Now, the three of us are lying on the floor of the living room, my shortcomings only still plaguing my own mind. You two had made up hours ago, and we carried on our evening in the way newlyweds are wont to do. But as you two drifted off to sleep, I found myself lying awake, haunted by my own, brand new ghost - the one borne of fear that one day I’d lose both of you. I’d been so wrapped up in the tangible ways that could happen, I didn’t realize all the other ways it could happen. 

The two of you lie on either side of me, your hands clasped below my breasts as your breathing evens out. The floor is far from comfortable, and the throw pillows from the couch aren’t much better, but just being here with you two…it doesn’t make it more comfortable, but there’s no other place I’d rather be. The crackling fire wants to lull me to sleep, and I know I should rouse you two before morning comes and the housemaid finds the three of us lying here naked. But for the moment, I am just savoring this moment, and thinking of ways we can help our ghosts to play nicely together in our new home.

[browneyedboys]

will you walk me home

you can find my other work here!

Pairing: rafe cameron x reader

Warnings: cursing, frat parties, light discussion of alcohol, overall fluff (let me know if you find something else)

Word count: 2.3K

Synopsis: Second chance encounters with Rafe Cameron lead to discussions of fate and the idea of what happens when you go to frat parties. (second part to libraries after midnight)

a/n: okay so maybe this will be a series?! I'm having fun with this concept and I still promise nothing, feedback is always appreciated! 

The next time you see Rafe Cameron, only a few days later, you’re celebrating. The conclusion of midterms means that you’re slightly less stressed on a daily basis, a cause for celebration. You manage to convince Paige, your big, and some other girls to go to a Phi Gam party with you, only slightly hoping to run into your favorite golden boy. 

An hour or so passes and you’ve managed to go from sober to a flushed, giggling mess. Alcohol always manages to get your blood pumping to exactly where you don’t want it. The loud bass booms through the house and seems to come to rest in your lungs. It’s as they’ve developed their own beat. The slightly suffocating feeling manages to suck you back into reality; you need some air.

“I’m going to step outside for a few minutes,” you call to Paige, watching as she nods and turns to some of your sisters you both had been dancing with before. Shoving through the crowd, you pick up on the panicky feeling in your chest. There are too many people close to you, it’s too loud, and you’ve already had a big week. 

You finally reach the back door of the house, pulling it open in time to quell your beating heart. You usually excel in social situations, well at least enough to where you enjoy yourself. It seems with the intensity of the week a party wasn’t the best idea. Finding purchase on a brick retaining wall, you bring your knees to your chest and settle your head into the space between. The 4-7-8 count of breath that you learned for your anxiety helps a bit. 

Four seconds you breathe in, seven you hold it in, eight you let it go. Crowds never were your thing. Alcohol never really lets you free, it just makes you more giggly or sad, depending on the week. This week it leaned more towards the latter and the crowd around you came crashing down. 

“Hey, you okay?” You’re pulled from your breathing exercise, and in consequence from your thoughts. Lifting your head out of your knees, you find the perfect picture of Rafe standing before you. He holds a drink in his hand, his eyebrows pulled together as he maintains his gaze on you. Blinking, you extract your gaze from him, returning to your shell. 

You nod, a bit too quickly to be convincing, then resume your attempt to regain your breath. “I just…” you pause, marveling at the breeze on your arms, “I’ve never really gotten used to being in a crowd of people yet never feeling more lonely, you know?”

Rafe exhales, you watch him shift foot to foot through the little crack between your legs. His feet then step and disappear as you feel the warmth that radiates off of him settle beside you. A hand comes to rest between your shoulder blades, thumb tracing the juts of your spine. 

It’s so quiet behind the booming house you can nearly hear his breathing. You make your best effort to match your own breath to the rhythmic pace of Rafe’s thumb. As it swoops up the valley of your spine you pull air in, down you purse your lips and exhale. Little else seems to pull your thoughts from how nice it is to find peace in another person’s presence.

You’re so used to putting on a front or willing more energy to meet the expectations of others. All your life, it has felt like only a select few people truly manage to see how you are. Unbothered in the natural state, you feel at ease with this boy you’ve only really talked to twice. It’s an entirely cliche thought — but it feels like you’ve known him your whole life. You’re not sure if romantic soulmates exist but they have to in some capacity. People just seem to fit together in such unique ways, it can’t be only a billion coincidences. 

It would crush your soul to learn that the little connections in daily life happen due to mere circumstance. Like people on their deathbed call out to god — you can’t go about your life with no strings. It’s a terrifying thought that nothing draws people together. Fate has to exist. 

“What’s pulling you from life?” Rafe voices barely louder than a whisper. The rises and falls of his speech fits right in with the atmosphere around the two of you. 

You lift your head from your legs, resting your chin on your knees. You tilt your head to the side until you’ve squished your cheek just slightly, taking in the way Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Does it freak you out how many people live on this spinning ball? How every decision you make affects the entire trajectory of your life? How you could pass by the person you belong with because of something stupid?”

“Woah,” Rafe exhales, softly grinning at you, “That’s a minor crisis, I try not to think about everything too much. It’s so much easier to go about day to day life not in my own brain but sometimes I do think about that. I like to think that everything happens for a reason, even something stupid.”

You nod along with his words, if anything, Rafe seems to agree with you. 

“I mean even just me walking out here at the moment when I saw you could be seen as some twist of fate. It’s really easy to get lost in the world at times but I try to not overthink everything. How would you even know that they’re the person you belong with until you take the time to get to know them.”

“But fate has to play a part, right?” You question, lifting your head from your knees. You shift to sit like a pretzel carefully balanced on the wall. 

The uncertainty of your voice throws Rafe for a loop. This version of you is starkly different to the girl who told off his dad a few days ago. The crease between your eyebrows beckons him to solve all your problems like you tried to do for him. With a gentle manner, he smooths out the creases with his thumb. “That’s up for you to decide, honey. If fate is something that makes you feel better about the world then there is no harm in believing in it. What’s the difference between believing in fate and believing in a god? Both offer the same reassurances about what we don’t know.”

“Sometimes it feels like I don’t know a whole lot.” You murmur, the air gains a chill as your words leave your lips. October means the changing of the seasons and a whole lot of things to look forward to, but right now it's all a bit too much. Life feels so demanding. 

Rafe’s thumb traces your brow, pausing on your temple. Warmth cascades down the side of your face before his hand eventually settles, cupping your jaw. “You don’t have to know anything,” Rafe hums, “I mean you’re what, 20? You still have the rest of your life to figure it out.”

“I’m usually a giggly drunk,” you complain, leaning into the warmth of his hand on your face. Your eyes flutter every so slightly as the week seems to catch up to you. It’s so nice to have somebody out here with you. It would be too cold on your own. Even the pause between your own speech feels right. You don’t overthink your every movement around the golden boy. “What happened to me?”

The weight of your head in his hand prompts Rafe to shift closer to you. Your knee overlaps his thigh as you lean into his touch. “I’m sure you’ve had a long week; you’re probably exhausted and then you got overstimulated in there.” He’s so tempted to draw you into his arms and never let you go. He could spend a lifetime protecting you, like the way you did against his dad. “Maybe you should get some rest, call it an early night from the thrills of Phi Gam.” He proposes when the moments when your eyes are closed outweigh the moments they’re open. Rafe feels a new tug in his chest. He thinks an invisible string might tie your pinky to his. 

Your eyes meet his. You trace the shadows across his face, sharply contrasting to how he looked the last time you saw him. Maybe if you spend enough time noting the way he looks at you you’ll understand what it is you're feeling. The feeling that prompts you to ask, “Can you walk me home again?” 

Rafe’s quick to agree, with a short, “Of course, honey.” It turns your insides gooey like his term of endearment. You could get used to Rafe’s company. As you both stand, his hands leave a cold trail in their absence. 

The boom of the party increases as you make your way back towards the house. The lawn, green in the way that only money can achieve, is littered with far more people than when you first pushed through the doors. Perhaps everyone realized just how suffocating the air is inside. You glance over your shoulder as you step back inside, double checking that Rafe is behind you. Or maybe it's just an excuse to take another glimpse at the golden boy. The too warm air rushes into your lungs. It stinks of too many bodies who are at least a little wasted. 

He smiles at you, dropping his lips to your ear. “Do you need to make your rounds and say goodbye?” Rafe’s whisper elicits goosebumps. You shake your head; you can just text Paige that you went home. It’s not like you’re the designated driver or that you were incredibly drunk. It’s too loud for you to vocalize your entire thought process so you just continue through the house. Rafe’s hand find’s purchase on the small of your back as the people get denser. His thumb resumes its pace from earlier, moving back and forth. 

Rafe has come to recognize the scrunch between your eyebrows as a stress indicator. Watching the way it dissolves slightly as he guides you through the house, only for your brows to pull together as a person stills your path. Preston, Rafe’s fraternity brother stands in front of the pair of you. 

“Cameron!” Preston calls out. “I’ve missed you buddy. Where’ve you been?” He sways back and forth with the constitution of a giraffe. Rafe has always had a soft spot for Preston; they went through rush together and endured some stupid shit. He is the closest thing that Rafe has to a family out here. 

“Hey Preston, I’m going to walk Cory home and then I’ll be back okay. We can hang out after that.” Rafe answers in what he hopes will be both his first and last response. He can tell you just want to go home. 

Your eyes follow Preston as he stills, seemingly realizing that you’re right in front of him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Cory, Rafe’s asked me a hundred questions about you since that one night.” The implication of his statement hangs in the air, swirling with the idea of Rafe thinking of you as much as you think of him. 

“Oh, it’s great to meet you too!” You flash him a smile before glancing over your shoulder, wanting nothing more than to catch Rafe looking even a little bit flustered. It’s nice to know that you’re not the only one a little hung up on your shared interactions. Rafe meets your eyes with a faint grin. He doesn’t look pink but you miss the way he shook his head when Preston said what he did. He’s had a few seconds to recover, for which he is eternally grateful. 

“Well good night,” you duck around Preston, who has grown distracted by the lights dancing across the ceiling. Once you make it to the front of the house your idea of the night comes crashing back on you. Midterms and their conclusion was supposed to mean a break from the chaos that is your life but you seem to attract just a bit of chaotic energy wherever you go. 

The air has grown chillier in the few minutes you made your way through the frat house, or perhaps you got used to the stale air inside. Either way goosebumps creep up your arms, something Rafe notices with a surprising amount of speed. He shifts closer to you as you walk towards Pi Phi’s house, moving his arm from your back to your shoulders. He draws you ever so slightly towards him. 

Something about the ease you seem to instill in him causes Rafe to be a bit more direct. “Preston really did just call me out, but he’s right, in all his tipsy truth, I do like you…”

His honesty catches you off guard. “Rafe.” The short walk concludes as the pair of you draw on the start of the walkway to your house. You step out of his bubble, “I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupts with a finger gracing your lips, it tugs your bottom lip with a comforting heaviness, “I just wanted you to know. You’ve had a long night and I’m sure you need a few days to process everything. Goodnight Cory.” Rafe takes a step back from you, his finger falling from your mouth. He hesitates just out of reach. 

Against his better judgment he quickly takes a step forward and presses a chase kiss on your forehead. Warmth blooms from the spot where his lips made contact long after his figure retreats back to his frat house. It stays even after you wash your face and put on your matching pajama set. In bed you trace the spot with a memory, smiling yourself into a dream filled night. 

[writerblue275]

Collaborating with Heartsteel!Kayn (ft. the rest of Heartsteel!)

Inspiration: Music by Against the Current. Specifically “Burn it Down,” “Again & Again,” “Blindfolded,” “that won’t save us,” “Wildfire,” and so many other of their songs. Been super into their music lately.

Character: Heartsteel!Kayn (but also the rest of Heartsteel is mentioned)

Genre: Headcanon

Type: Fluff. Slight angst at beginning due to plot but it resolves.

Gender: Gender Neutral reader!

Tw: slight angst. Slightly low self esteem at parts. Shitty “friends” (not Heartsteel). Swearing.

Note: Honestly up to reader’s interpretation if there are romantic undertones in this or not. Truly I’m writing it neutrally where I can see either the reader and Kayn having only a platonic, but close, friendship, or have things develop into something more through/after the process. Up to you, besties.

You’ve known Kayn for years. Your musical stylings were very similar and your band and his old band ran in the same circles, though his former group was far more popular than yours while he was still a member.

You were the bassist/vocalist for your group and he played guitar for his.

Because of that genre overlap, overtime, you and him developed a friendship and often just hung out together, enjoying each other’s company.

Most of the time these were just hangouts in one of your rooms, improvising/riffing, having fun, and writing songs.

As you did, overtime you two discussed releasing some sort of project together, but the timing never seemed to be quite right.

Then well…Kayn was kicked out of his former band.

So all professional collab ideas were put on the back burner as you quickly and heavily focused on being there for your friend as he went through the toughest spot in his career.

Even when things got a bit ugly, you made sure he knew you were there to support him and that you believed in him and his talents.

Knowing someone was in his corner really helped him get to a better place again and he really thinks very highly of you because of what you did to support him.

In fact, when Kayn was approached by Aphelios about joining Heartsteel, he even asked for your opinion because he trusts your judgement.

And of course you encouraged him to go for it, knowing how much he missed performing.

You also had a good feeling about the group, especially if they wanted to have Kayn join even after all the shit that went down with his past group. It just felt like Kayn and Rhaast would be welcomed, and that made you happy.

You’re one of the very few people who he’s comfortable being Rhaast around. You’ve never judged him for his creative process and in fact have always been willing to accommodate it without judgement.

So needless to say, Kayn grew to respect you immensely.

As he settled into Heartsteel, he was happy to watch as your group continued to grow more and more successful. It also seemed like, even with the rising fame, your band all got along with each other.

That joy was something he appreciated even more now that he found his own group he felt at home with (Heartsteel).

Between your group’s rising fame and Heartsteel’s, that did mean you and Kayn weren’t able to hang out as much as you used to, and occasionally there were long periods of time where the two of you weren’t able to chat and keep each other up to date on stuff.

Which was why Kayn was stunned when he saw a social media post from your band announcing your departure from the group and who your replacement was.

The way the band worded the post, it seemed like the decision was mutual for both parties.

So Kayn was even more shocked to see a post on your personal accounts detailing how no, it wasn’t amicable, actually.

You were pushed out from your position in the group to make room for the lead guitarist’s sibling who also sang and played bass.

A situation of classic and full blown nepotism. It was a decision made behind your back and your former band didn’t even have the decency to talk to you about it before posting the announcement.

You found out about your removal via socials at the same time the public did. (That’s fucked up fr.)

Understandably, you were livid.

You were always a true professional when it came to both your music and your behavior while in the group, and you were regarded as one of the most talented bassists/vocalists in the genre. To hear you were pushed out due to nepotism was a shock for everyone in the industry.

(It also caused a lot of people to lose quite a bit of respect for your old band.)

While your captions of your posts on the topic remained professional, the hurt you were feeling was very clear in your words.

You’d considered your former band mates to be some of your closest friends. Them disregarding and disrespecting you like this stung a lot.

Thankfully so many of your fans immediately showed you support on your socials.

You’ve always loved and appreciated your fans and have always been vocal regarding your gratitude when it comes to their support. Because of that, you personally had a passionate subgroup of fans within your old group’s fan base.

Even with their support though, this was obviously a very rough time for you.

Kayn couldn’t help but feel upset for you. He knew how this situation felt and it definitely wasn’t great.

He left a comment on your post: “Fuck them and fuck that bullshit. You’re too talented for them. Let’s talk.”

That caused a lot of whispers. Most fans weren’t aware of your years-long friendship with Heartsteel’s main rebel.

The press went crazy. “Are they together??” “How do they know each other?” “Does this mean we’re getting a collab between (Y/N) and Heartsteel??” (Spoiler alert: Yes. Yes it does. 😂.)

(While you found the rumors and whispering silly, they did make you smile and laugh so that’s good.)

So you found a time to meet up with Kayn and just catch up on how things were going for each other.

He really was so supportive of you, making sure you realized you did nothing wrong and giving you the space and time to vent out everything you were feeling about the situation.

Kayn was getting his chance to repay what you did for him (though he hated that circumstances arose where he had to do so).

While chatting with you, he asked about some of the music you’d been writing, curious to see how things were coming along since he’d last seen you.

You showed him some of the songs/lyrics you’d been writing to process your grief and anger at the bullshit you found yourself in. Music had always been your comfort place and, despite the shitty situation, that hadn’t changed.

Kayn was super impressed by your work and he had an idea.

Kayn leaned forward across the cafe table you two were situated at. “What if we collabed on something? Like actually released a song together? Or shit, we could do an EP. We talked about doing so in the past. I think now is the perfect time. You can show those traitors you don’t need them.”

You looked surprised. “Really? Do you think we could? You have your Heartsteel obligations and I’d hate to take you away from those. Not to mention we don’t have enough people for it. I’ve got bass and vocals covered and you have guitar on lock, but who would play drums for us?”

He grinned. “(Y/N), I think it’s because of Heartsteel we’d be able to release something like this. The guys know I’ve been writing other stuff besides raps and they agreed to help me with any sort of solo or collaborative project I’m passionate about.”

Your eyebrows went up. “Oh really? That’s extremely supportive of them. I’m glad you have that.”

Kayn chuckled and nodded. “Things have definitely been looking up for me lately. But anyway, as for drums, Aphelios recently asked if I needed drums for anything. He’s been dying to break out his set again. So he’d definitely help us there.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Glad to hear that. But what about the sound production and mixing side of things? I only know the very basics.”

“Yone is one of the best producers in the industry and Aphelios has also been working alongside him on our projects. Between the two of them, I trust they’ll do right by us.”

You bit your lip before tapping your notebook. “Kayn, do you really think there’s enough in here for a solid EP? Would people listen?”

He tapped your note pad, “The lyrics in here are excellent, (Y/N), and knowing you, you already have melodies planned out. Besides, you and I were both pushed out of our former bands. That alone will create an insane amount of intrigue around any collaboration we do. I can tell you’re nervous about this, but let’s take a risk. Who knows what good might come out of it?”

His excitement and passion made the decision easy. You’d do it. You’d collab with him/Heartsteel (as long as the others were ok with it, especially Alune, Yone, and Aphelios).

They absolutely were. Yone loved the idea of producing more rock/alternative tracks. It was a genre he hadn’t really dipped his talents into yet.

Phel? Oh he agreed IMMEDIATELY when you and Kayn asked him to be the drummer for the project.

(A/N: I have such a vivid image in my head of Heartsteel!Aphelios just rocking the fuck out on drums and it’s GREAT. If only I could draw, damnit!)

And Alune thought the project would be a great way to drum up publicity for all involved, so she was all for it.

As were the other Heartsteel members. They helped out in their own ways too!

They’re really surprised (in a good way) by Kayn’s passion when it came to helping you. If it was such a big deal to him, they were going to do what they could to make this happen successfully!

K’Sante and Ezreal worked together to plan and direct a music video for the lead single (nothing extravagant. Just a cool looking performance video.)

Ezreal also helped with background vocals on the tracks.

Sett and K’Sante designed and helped make outfits for the MV and any performances you guys did.

You were super touched by how much they all helped you on this. Even though you were essentially a stranger, all of Heartsteel enthusiastically welcomed you in as a new friend and collaborator.

That made the entire creative process easy for you, which is what everyone wanted. You were stressed enough.

Recording the EP was so fucking fun? Truly your recording sessions were you, Kayn, and Aphelios rocking out with each other and doing what you do best. Performing some damn good music.

(A/N: Listen Kayn playing electric guitar has me in a fucking chokehold. He’d be so sexy with it and Jdnfjrnsnfjxkxnfjrkdnfjdk.)

After the recording sessions finished, you and Kayn were heavily involved in the production/mixing process with Yone and Aphelios. They always took your suggestions and thoughts seriously, and they genuinely had a lot of fun producing this project for you and Kayn.

With your past group, usually you just recorded and then your record label made all the important post-recording creative decisions. You just showed up where and when you needed to.

So having the ability and power to be so involved in the creative process/decisions for this project felt really liberating and wonderful. Heartsteel always made sure you felt seen and listened to when you made your opinions known.

(And the one time someone a prop-maker for the MV did kinda brush off your opinions, Kayn immediately backed you up.)

Speaking of creative decisions, usually you’re not a petty person…but you and Kayn decided to release the project around the same time you knew your former group was planning to release their own project. Because why the fuck not?

And when it came to deciding the logistics of the release (who it would release under/any features, etc…,) they gave you first artist credit. (It was Kayn’s request, but he didn’t have to try to convince the rest of them at all. They thought it was more than fair.)

Honestly Kayn, Aphelios, and Yone tried to convince you to just give them feature/production credit but you downright refused.

This was a true collaboration and you wanted to make sure people knew that. You were beyond grateful for Heartsteel’s role in this project.

The HYPE and anticipation surrounding this RP? Absolutely insane. People could not stop talking about it. And any sort of teasers/behind-the-scenes stuff you released on social media received so many interactions and comments expressing support for you and excitement for the release.

It made Kayn happy because he just KNEW your former group must be beyond annoyed. But in his eyes, fuck them. They didn’t care about your feelings when it came to kicking you out of the group so why should you take theirs into account? (<- He definitely said that to you more than once throughout the whole creative process.)

And once the EP was released (along with the lead single’s MV? Holy. SHIT. Things absolutely popped off.

Both fans and critics praised your work, particularly the raw and relatable emotions in the lyrics you wrote. Of course the music itself was praised too. Yone and Phel rightfully received a lot of kudos for their roles in the production of the music.

As did Kayn, ofc! Fans were thrilled to have Kayn back on guitar again and loved seeing him rock tf out with you and Phel in the music video.

The MV was also praised for its simplistic but impactful emphasis on the performance of the song. The visuals were amazing, though understated, and people thought your outfits looked cool as hell.

So many media outlets asked for interviews and such! It was wild! But it was super fun to explain to the public how you and Kayn knew each other and how this EP came to be! And Kayn always let you take the lead on questions since in his mind, this was your moment and he was just happy to be along for the ride. (One of the few times Kayn has ever been truly humble.)

(Also, lmaooo, Kayn definitely was throwing subtle shade onto your former group throughout all the interviews and when he did talk. You might not be a typically petty person, but he was. And he held quite a grudge against them now.)

You, Kayn, and Phel decided to do a mini series of concerts performing the project. Definitely not a full tour or anything, but it was just a chance for you to keep performing these songs that mean so much to you.

And every single concert? Sold out very quickly after tickets went on sale.

Those concerts were an absolute blast btw. You’ve never had so much fun performing before them. (Shout out to Alune for making sure each concert ran smoothly. You always made sure to thank her and buy her food after every concert, so now you are definitely on her favorites list!)

Also, because of your EP and concert series, you were scouted by a different band, another really well-respected group in the genre, who just lost their bassist/one of their vocalists. They really loved your lyric writing on the EP and wanted that talent on their team. (And of course they love your voice and your talents on bass!)

So even beyond this project, now you have a new group to call home! WOOHOO! (Kayn was so fuckin excited when you told him. His level of excitement was very unexpected but sweet!)

Needless to say the project was a total personal and professional success (and completely overshadowed your old band’s release hehehehehehe).

It allowed you to keep finding your joy in music even after a shitty situation, and you got to reconnect with someone you cared about (Kayn, duh).

Also working with Kayn and the other members of Heartsteel was just so fun.

They enjoyed working with you just as much. Through Kayn they let you know they’d be down for another collab, with you alone or with your new group, if you ever wanted to do another one.

(And while he didn’t say it out loud, Kayn’s definitely thinking: please collaborate with ME SPECIFICALLY again. Please please please please please *deep breath* please please please please.)

And you let him know you’d love to!

Thank you so very much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I apologize for the infrequent posts. Life is very hectic at the moment but I’m still here, loving my fandoms! I’m hoping to start writing a little more since I’ve been feeling inspired lately!💙

[werebutch]

Oversharing 💪

Probably insensitive but if my disabled dad cannot function well enough to heat his own food up in the microwave, take his cup to the sink, throw his trash in the garbage bin, what am i supposed to do? What is HE supposed to do ? And how much of this do i question without being an asshole? And seriously truly what the hell am i supposed to do?

I KNOW he can do the above things. He’s physically able, he can walk, but he has pain and will sometimes faint bc of blood sugar and stuff. But most of all he says he’s too weak to do that stuff. There was a time after he got out of the hospital + physical therapy where he was able to walk around and do stuff. It was difficult but he could still do things like walk around a grocery store or do dishes. Btw we have a dishwasher — when i say do dishes i mean just simply put them in the fucking dishwasher. Idk. He doesn’t manage his diabetes well at all, so he’s constantly in a state of crisis bc he neglects himself. Anyways. My question is, if he’s too weak to do that stuff anymore by living at home (he works from home, so he’s not even exerting energy by working. He’s on his phone most of the time anyway. Cleaning up after himself is pretty much the only thing i ask of him), why the fuck is he letting himself be that way. If it’s possible for him to not be as disabled as he is, why is he not trying even slightly to make it easier on himself? He hates being this way

He’s told me so many times how one day he’s gonna get more physical therapy done and he’ll be able to hike w us and stuff, which is smth we all like to do together. He’s holding himself back — im not saying this in the dumbass way where will can overcome all disability but i AM saying that there IS a realistic way for him to improve and yes, he is too depressed to do it, but he’s also a grown man who has his family begging for him to get somewhere with this . You don’t think I’m depressed too ? yet I still force myself to do all this because I care about my family. You’re grown. You have to choose at some point. After years and years of this and after so many people support you, i genuinely cannot sympathize with the idea that it’s out of his control anymore

What am i supposed to do? Am i just supposed to accept that he’ll never be able to do anything himself and just let him have that? I’m literally fulfilling the housewife role, physically with tasks, emotionally, and parentally, and it’s disgusting to me. He works from home all he does is sit at home apologizing to me over and over about not doing anything, but still not ACTUALLY being sorry enough to do anything about it. And ofc i say it’s ok bc what am i supposed to do. I’m tired of wrestling myself back and forth thinking im bad for expecting anything of him -> getting fed up with doing everything for him -> thinking im bad again. And yeah maybe one day out of every 2 weeks he’ll have a day where he’ll clean the kitchen or get all the trash up that he throws down by his chair and throw it away. It makes him feel good, it’s great. But as soon as it’s done, he continues not putting in any effort. You are tired from going to fucking Walgreens? From putting the clothes away that i washed dried folded and brought to your room? So you just throw them on the floor and now they’re mixed with the dirty ones so I have to wash everything again, because you can’t remember what’s clean ? And you’ve taught your (now adult! Adult!!!!!) kids to behave in this helpless way as well? Now they think they can scream in my face if i tell them to take the garbage out a second time because they didnt do it the first time i asked ?

If it’s true and you’re tired, then you need physical therapy. Walking to the kitchen should not wind you, your illnesses don’t explain that. It’s simply because you haven’t built your muscles up enough to do that, which I understand because it’s hard, but what the hell. Our insurance will cover it so there’s no reason not to. Also, my dad is known for being lazy even before he became this disabled, so how do I know what to question and what not to? I’ve caught myself being an asshole to him but I’m also tired of him choosing helplessness, it’s so hard. Obviously he is never going to be at full strength, i don’t expect that, i just expect him to pick up after himself and just help me a little. Please

And I don’t even know if my complaints are truly valid (hate that word but ok -__-) bc 1. Could be way worse like years ago and 2. Is it really that big of a deal to clean? Except yes it is and no one understands how disgusting a house can get unless you are in this situation . Detrimental effects on my mental health no matter if i choose to clean or not. So idk. Or the secret third thing which is most likely - I’ve been depressed for so long, houses we’ve had have always been gross + cluttered bc of mental illness in the family, so now as an adult my threshold for what i can stand is very small, bc it’s been built up this whole time with no breaks. So yes it’s bad here, but I feel so stressed bc of the history of it, not just current events... I just feel sooooo trapped lol like this has been going on forever and slowly I’ve regained control so now I solely control the house, which has improved it, but it’s also a huge stressor on me, because the more i take on, the more is expected of me. Like how my dad can’t microwave his own food or pick up his meds at the pharmacy drive thru. LOL

So much oversharing and idgaf if no one reads bc it’s embarrassing and probably pretty dumb like i could be dealing with sooo much worse lol but im so fed up and don’t feel like going to get my journal lol. So yep sorry bout that but GRRAAAAAHH!

My dad is not evil my family is not evil. They are depressed. Not evil thats unrealistic and cartoonish and i think if ur response to this is to say smth like that i understand but u may want to evaluate ur life and relationships. My family is depressed. I’m depressed. Thanks for trying to validate my experience but it makes me feel strange when people view my family as cartoon villains when literally everything is nuanced and I’m sure that from their perspectives, what they’re doing is rational. Humans ok lol but i am very frustrated

[star-girl69]

Cruel World

Shin Hati x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: hi everyone and welcome to the first chapter! as i mentioned, i’m just getting into star wars so i will get some things wrong!! i don’t know all of the lore yet, so please feel free to tell me something i missed! i hope you all enjoy!!

also, i took a little bit of creative liberty here regarding the nightsisters of dathomir, so don’t be surprised!

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of death, imprisonment, swearing, mentions of insanity, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter One - Sweet Long Nights

Chapter One - Sweet Long Nights

—-

The Empire had fallen only a few weeks ago. You and mother had been holed up in some small planet, some small shack, waiting, biding your time.

Your mother said she just needed a second to think. To figure out some sort of direction, something. There had to be something she could do, to restore the power that had been taken from her.

And in the darkness of the night, while the wind blows dirt and dust through the small holes, a voice calls to her.

Thrawn will bring the Empire back. Thrawn will bring your power back. If you can get to him.

—-

Before the world had shown you cruelty, you had never known it. You lived in a lavish home on a tropical planet, far away from any prying eyes. Most people didn’t even know you existed, the elusive whispers of Morgan Elsbeth’s daughter, always destined to remain shrouded in secrecy.

You had tutors to teach you the fine arts of the most important planets, the politics of the Empire, language and math- but the really important lessons, the true power, was reserved for your mother.

She taught you not only about power in terms of what it meant to everyone else- but what it meant to the two of you. Descended from the Nightsisters of Dathomir, you were called witches, sisters, ladies of pure darkness.

And over the years, the bright green energy that bursted from you hands turned to uncontrollable surges of power into something that felt like it was yours. Your power. Something only you could control.

Then, the Empire fell. All of your mother’s assets were stripped away, including your beautiful home, all of your tutors, and everything you had ever known.

Adjusting was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. And you did it, missing the comforts of home all the while. It was something inside of you, a gaping hole, pure darkness that you apparently rule over- but it really rules you over.

That same darkness is inside your mother.

You both want that life back. You both need that life back.

There are black holes inside of your chests, and they need to be filled and filled with power.

The pursuit of your old life has led you here.

The room is metal and dark, shackles twist around your arms. You sigh, trying to find a comfortable spot on the metal bench made into the wall, but you can’t.

You miss softness.

“Are you sure this guy is going to come?”

Your mother looks away from the still closed door and to you, remnants of a true mother-daughter relationship on her face.

She cares for you. She just cares for power more. But as long as you have the same goal- you are her and she is you. One in the same. Mother and daughter.

“Yes,” she says, simply, and it seems like there is no more room for argument. “He’s a mercenary. And I paid him well.”

You shoot her an unimpressed look, but in your heart, you know this is the best she can do.

Her composure softens ever so slightly.

“I know,” she says, almost motherly, almost comforting. “I know it’s hard. But the path to power is a hard one, my daughter. We wouldn’t have come this far if we weren’t truly made for it.”

You smile, awkwardly, an acknowledgment of her words, and her lips press together tight, returning the awkward grimace.

The minutes pass by in silence, and you mother stares at her hands in her lap, shackled, and you stare at your own. You flex your fingers. No green sparks from your fingertips.

“Fucking weird-ass rocks,” you mutter, tempted to bang your hands into the wall over and over again until the power-dampening shackles snap off. You doubt they will, but who will blame you for trying?

You heard stories from your nanny’s when you were younger- one of them even descended from the Nightsisters as well. Her bloodline was much younger, much weaker, but she could still entertain you with small tricks and stories she had heard.

She told you that without their power, Nightsisters fell into madness. They would rake their hands down their face, rip their hair out. Away from their home planet, from the magic in the ground, they would slowly lose themselves.

Your mother had prevented that.

After the massacre of the Nightsisters, her and a few others had done powerful magick that you couldn’t even dream of. They had taken ichor from the planet, condensed it, and cut open their chests to rest the stone inside their rib cages.

You had been cut open while you were still a baby, but the stone still rested inside of you.

You look back up towards the closed door. You look towards your mother. And you look up towards the sky and say a prayer to the Winged Goddess.

Then, you can hear something. It’s faint. But it’s the sound of bodies falling, a lightsaber swishing through the air.

The sounds grow louder, accompanied by guns, bullets, one after another. Your mother remains apathetic, a blank, waiting look on her face. She says she isn’t capable of looking into the future- but you often wonder if somehow she is.

You take your seat next to her, shifting anxiously, trying to look as neutral as your mother.

The lock clicks, and the door opens, retracting upwards.

A man waits in the doorway, illuminated by the bright white hallways, dressed in all black. He reaches up and pulls down his hood, revealing a pale face and a full, gray beard.

Your mother stands up, holding out her chained arms.

He points, gestures, and they snap off. You watch your mother rub her wrists, before she turns to you.

You snap out of your amazement.

You lock eyes with the man before you, and he does the same thing, and your shackles fall off. Immediately, you can feel it under your skin. The power. The one from your ribs, passed down through the Nightsisters.

“Baylan, you are true to your word,” you mother commends, the highest compliment she could ever give.

He nods his head slightly. “And well paid for it, Lady Morgan.”

He reaches his hand out, and you stand, rolling your wrists, flexing your fingers, tempted to let green sparks jump out.

Your mother steps forward, and he helps her step over the threshold, then takes your hand and helps you step over it as well.

“Lady Y/N,” he says, and you don’t dare say thank you- because your mother didn’t. And she never would.

She walks briskly, and you find your way next to her, Baylan quick behind the two of you.

“The Jedi who captured me seeks the map.”

Your mother had only basically explained what the map was, how it will lead you to Thrawn, the other galaxy he is mysteriously trapped in. You know it was enough to imprison you over.

“She knows about Thrawn.”

“Who is this Jedi?” Baylan asks, a bit of arrogance creeping into his voice- he is better than whoever, surely. You’ve heard her name a hundred times before. Your mother cursed it when they locked you up.

She looks at you.

“Ahsoka Tano,” you hiss, sparks crackling at the ends of your fingertips. An enemy of your mother is an enemy of yours.

—-

The three of you board the ship in the dock, and as Baylan sits in the captains seat, you expect him to close the doors and take off. Your mother next to him, you behind her, an empty seat next to you.

But he doesn’t. He waits, until you get bored and anxious to get off this ship.

“What are we waiting for?”

He doesn’t look at you. Your mother taps her fingers against her seat.

“My apprentice.”

Footsteps echo up the ramp, and you turn around in your seat, only to find a girl, about your age, with chin length light blonde hair, and a spot of blood on her cheek.

Her eyes meet yours. She stops and stares at you, and all you can do is stare into her bright blue eyes, wide and rimmed with black makeup.

You’ve had lovers before. Weak humans with no powers, just servants in your home or the neighboring ones. But the lightsaber on her hip makes your heart skip a beat. She makes your heart skip a beat, and you stomach flip, and you can’t even feel stupid for the feelings in your body.

She nods, sitting down next to you, and you look her up and down, her armor, the spot of blood on her chin, the small braid resting on her shoulder.

The doors click up, and you can’t take your eyes away from the blood on her cheek. Finally, she looks back at you as the ship lifts up, seemingly a little confused and offended, glaring right at you.

“You have blood on your cheek.”

She looks down and wipes her cheek with her hand, smearing it, and she looks at the blood on her palm.

“Hm,” she says, no expression on her face, and you smile.

—-

That night, on your own ship, your mother asleep in the room next to you, you stare at the ceiling and think of your blonde savior. And you think about the way that if you focused, you could hear her heart speed up as she looked at you, and you could see her pupils dilate.

It’s a sweet long night thinking of her.

—-

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