#not even remembering each other but growing to act like they’ve known each other for years

[somebluemelodies]

okay but like… if spiderbit did know each other as kids, there’s such a painful irony in q!Cellbit telling q!Roier in his vows that as soon as he saw his smile, he knew he wouldn’t forget it

head in fucking hands bro IMAGINE

[yanderejustforyou]

Red String

Summary:

Part of him knows he should cut it, severing this invisible tether that links them—a rational act, one steeped in the bittersweet necessity of moving on. It felt like the right thing to do, didn’t it? Might HAVE A SPICY PART 2

The night Sam leaves for Stanford is cloaked in an air that feels thick with unuttered words and heavy emotions, an almost palpable tension hanging over the streets of Lawrence like the storm clouds that sometimes threatened but never broke. The usually vibrant town seems to have dimmed, silence enveloping it as though it recognizes the significance of this moment. The moon, large and luminous, casts long, spectral shadows across the pavement, transforming familiar landscapes into something otherworldly, while Dean stands at the edge of the curb. His hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, the fabric rough against his skin, grounding him in the midst of his swirling thoughts, and he watches intently as the Greyhound bus pulls away, its engine roaring to life, pulling away Sam and everything they’ve ever known.

In that moment, he can almost hear the steady hum of the bus’s engine vibrating inside his own chest—a relentless, recurring reminder that something precious is slipping through his fingers. It’s as though his heartbeat has synced with the rhythm of the bus, each thud a desperate plea for time to stop, to hold on to what remains of their shared childhood just a moment longer.

As the vehicle disappears into the distance, the red string tied around his pinky finger tugs insistently, a tightness that feels both comforting and suffocating all at once.

This simple piece of string, small and seemingly insignificant, transforms into a symbol of everything Dean holds dear, encompassing their shared memories, the unbreakable bond between brothers, and the fear of abandonment. Yet, he hadn’t dared to mention this red string to Sam; it was a silent tradition, a thread passed down from their father, fraught with mystery and meaning. Dean doesn’t fully understand whether it’s a superstition or an emblem of sentimentality, but he remembers the day he tied it around his finger, a promise made the moment Sam came into the world. He knew that it would remain there until the day Sam chose to leave him, a prophecy that has now come to fruition.

Part of him knows he should cut it, severing this invisible tether that links them—a rational act, one steeped in the bittersweet necessity of moving on. It felt like the right thing to do, didn’t it? The string, representing their connection, should be neatly broken before Sam turns eighteen, a neat dividing line drawn before they reach a point of no return. As Dean’s mind races with the practicalities of the situation, the bus rolls further away, the engine’s growl fading into the night, and the darkness envelops Sam, swallowing him whole like a ravenous beast.

Yet, in that moment of separation, the string around Dean's finger tightens even more, a painful reminder of the reality he is facing. His heart is a wrecking ball, slamming into his ribs with every second that ticks by, heavy and relentless. Sammy is leaving. Sam is leaving. Those words echo in his mind like a mournful chant, drowning out every other thought, each repetition punctuated by a growing sense of despair.

Dean takes a deep breath, but it feels shallow, as though he’s trying to inhale the very essence of his brother even as he is whisked away. He pulls at the string, feeling the slight sting as it digs into his finger, a tangible representation of the emotional pain twisting in his gut. In another moment, he could cut it; he knows he should—but an inexplicable force within him holds him back. There is a weight to that act, a finality that looms over him. Because cutting it would mean letting go. Letting go of Sam.

And Dean isn’t sure he knows how to do that. He has always been Sam’s protector, the steadfast anchor in the turbulent sea of their lives shaped by their father’s choices and the monsters that lurked in the shadows of their existence. Sam had made the choice to go to Stanford, pursuing a future that was forged from aspirations rather than the heavy hand of fate that had dictated their lives thus far. This choice was one that had nothing to do with hunting, with the relentless battles against darkness, and with their father’s broken promises that had haunted their childhoods. It was an opportunity for Sam to step away from the weight of their shared past, a chance to carve out his path, and Dean could never truly be angry about that.

But damn it, Dean had spent his entire life taking care of Sam—shielding him from harm, wrapping him in a cocoon of loyalty and love, ensuring that Sam would never have to carry the same burdens that had been thrust upon Dean. He doesn’t know how to step back now, how to relinquish the role that has defined him for so long. How does one unlearn the instinct to protect, to stand guard, to keep danger at bay? As the bus’s taillights fade into the night, Dean grapples with the reality of his brother’s departure, wrestling with the grief that grips his heart. The red string remains taut, a reminder of the bond they share, and Dean is left standing at the curb, trapped in an uncertainty that feels like it will swallow him whole.

And now? Now Sam was walking away from him, disappearing into the distance, faster than Dean could comprehend. The bus has pulled away, its exhaust puffing into the air and carrying Sam further away. Dean stands frozen, a statue on the edge of the lonely road, the world around him blurring into an indistinct haze. The bus—gone. Just like that. He stares at the barren stretch of asphalt before him, the landscape that seems to stretch infinitely. His mind drifts back to the last moments they had shared, the weight of unsaid words hanging heavy in the air. His eyes fall to the red string wrapped tightly around his finger, the bright color stark against his pale skin, a visceral reminder of what he had lost.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t dare to breathe at that moment—a lingering feeling in his chest is so profound it seems to drown out everything else. The silence is overwhelming; it shatters like glass around him. He should’ve cut the string. Should have severed it before Sam left. A rush of regret surges through him, heavy and suffocating.

But how could he? This string symbolizes so much more than just a physical tie. It’s a lifeline, a connection to the one person who had been with him through all the chaos and darkness, the one who always anchored him, who reminded him of his humanity when he was ready to spiral into the abyss. How could he sever the last thread of their bond when it had been Sam who had kept him sane through the storms of their lives?

Dean looks down at the string, it's wound tight around his finger as if it were the very essence of their relationship, almost cutting into his flesh. In a way, the slight pain feels grounding—it’s tangible, real. This string is his last grasp at something meaningful. He can’t cut it. When he finally manages to peel himself away from the curb, he senses heaviness in his limbs as he trudges back to the Impala. Each step feels like a lead weight pressing down on him. The knot in his chest is a reflection of the string on his finger—both are painfully tight, suffocating him with their presence.

How can he possibly survive without Sam? The thought echoes through him like a dull drumbeat, relentless and vicious. Back in the motel room, he paces the claustrophobic space. The silence presses down on him, thick and palpable as if it might crush him whole if he stops moving. The walls are closing in, and he can’t shake the memories of the bus, the empty road—it all serves to highlight the void Sam has left in his life. Every sound—a creak of the bedframe, a faint rustle from the window curtains—feels like an unwelcome intrusion, an insistent reminder of Sam’s absence. The ticking clock ticks louder, marking the passage of moments that Dean is increasingly aware he’s spending alone. His fingers twitch, anxiously wrapping and unwrapping the string. It becomes a compulsive habit, a coping mechanism, his thumb brushing against the red thread. Every tug feels like he’s pulling at something that should be anchored in his chest.

He should cut it. That voice whispers insistently, nagging at the back of his mind. He should do it, yet the reality of the moment grips him—he can’t. Not when every fiber of his being is screaming for Sam's return. Not when the phantom warmth of his brother still clings to him, an echo that refuses to fade. Not when he feels that final connection swaying precariously, as if it could snap and leave him all the more adrift.

Frustrated, Dean lets out a heavy sigh and collapses onto the bed, staring up at the molded ceiling, tracing the patterns with his eyes as if hoping they'll offer some solace. Thoughts swirl within him like a maelstrom, a cacophony of regret and anger, all stemming from that gnawing absence. He knows he should be accustomed to this feeling—he’s navigated the tides of loss before, hasn’t he? But deep within, a nagging sense of dread tells him that this time, it’s irrevocable. This time, Sam might truly be gone for good.

The red string continues to burn against his skin, a constant reminder of what he has lost. He tugs at it, harder now, willing it to snap, to release him from this agonizing connection, but all it does is tighten—drawing him deeper into despair. Each tug reverberates, a reminder that Sam is not here, that his brother has stepped into a void that he cannot follow.

Yet, he cannot cut it. To do so would mean to let go, to acknowledge that Sam is truly gone. And Dean isn’t ready to let go, not now. The dread settles heavily in his stomach, the knot tightening further when he wakes the next day to the silence that fills the room. Sam hasn’t called. He hasn’t checked in. Dean had never expected Sam to be tied to his side, would never want to suffocate his brother’s independence. Sam has a life, a future now—a future that doesn’t orbit around Dean.

But the absence of communication only amplifies his fears, feeding into the uncertainty that claws at him. Shouldn’t Sam have at least reached out? Shouldn’t he have been thinking of him, too? The doubts spiral, and Dean wonders how long it will take before the sharp pain of loss dulls into a numbing ache. In his heart, he knows that as he waits and worries, he is clutching onto that red string with all his might, terrified to watch it slip away.

But damn it, Dean didn’t realize how much he needed to hear from Sam, to know that he was okay. To hear Sam’s voice, just one more time, to tell him that he was alright. That the string was still there.

The red string doesn’t loosen.

Dean grips it tighter, his thoughts spiraling. The tightness in his chest becomes unbearable, the thought of Sam fading away more suffocating than any hunt he’s ever been on.

And still, he doesn’t cut it.

He can’t.

Not when it’s the last thing left that ties him to Sam. The last thing left that feels like it matters. Because Sam is gone.

Days pass with the slow, haunting tick of time, but Dean finds himself stuck in place, unable to move forward. Each day that dawns brings with it the weight of an unbearable reality—he knows he should be moving on, pressing forward to embrace the world that waits outside, but the truth is that he can’t shake the profound absence of Sam. The world doesn’t halt in its relentless march, even in the wake of such loss, yet every ticking second feels like a heavy stone dragging him deeper into an abyss from which he fears he may never emerge. The Impala, once a sanctuary filled with laughter and the warmth of brotherhood, now feels like an empty shell. The leather seats no longer carry the familiar scent of their adventures together; instead, they echo with silence, amplifying the void left in Sam’s absence. The banter that had once flowed effortlessly between them—a melody that accompanied their journeys through the endless nights—has been silenced. There’s a noticeable absence, a gaping hole where Sam’s steady rhythm of breathing used to sit beside him, a comforting presence that grounded Dean during the thrill of the ride.

 No longer do the familiar notes of classic rock resonate in harmony with their shared laughter; now the music feels hollow, distorted, as if tainted by grief. The roads stretch out before him, infinite and unyielding, yet they lead to nowhere that matters. His gaze constantly shifts to the empty seat beside him, an uncomfortable reminder of everything that’s missing.

He’s trapped in a cycle of uncertainty, grappling with the insidious weight of despair. Dean tells himself he should be okay with this reality. He has always known, deep down, that Sam would eventually leave the nest, that they were both destined to forge their own paths. But this? This wasn’t how it was supposed to play out. It wasn’t supposed to end with unanswered questions hanging in the air, suspended on that invisible line they had never dared to cross. This was different. There was a finality to it that stung more than the sharpest blade. Tied around his finger is the red string, a frail tether that burns against his skin with each hour that slips by. It has become so deeply intertwined with him that he struggles to remember the moment when it shifted from being merely an emblem of connection to a suffocating reminder of his loss. He finds himself tugging at it once more, desperation fueling his movements. The string stretches, and he feels a pulse of pain shoot through him, radiating from his heart to his fingertips. It’s sharp and almost unbearable, yet it pales in comparison to the relentless, hollow ache that lingers in the depths of his soul whenever he dares to think about Sam.

Yet, deep within him lies a more insidious fear, one that gnaws at his insides like a persistent shadow. He can’t articulate it. It’s a paralyzing apprehension, one that whispers all too quietly that Sam may not return—not now, and perhaps never. The string around his finger transforms from a symbol of their bond into a constant reminder of what has been irrevocably lost, a gruesome herald of the permanence of emptiness that looms ahead. Closing his eyes, Dean can feel the sting of tears threatening to break through, but he forces his fists to clench around the string stubbornly, willing the tension in his body to dissipate. He has to stop dwelling on these thoughts; he has to claw his way out of this mental labyrinth before it ensnares him completely. He has endured the haunting silence of long stretches of road before, but it feels different now, oppressively suffocating, as if the very air is laced with his sorrow. It weighs on him like an anvil, crushing him as he navigates this gaping chasm of loneliness marked by Sam’s absence.

He wonders if Sam ever considers just how deeply this separation hurts Dean. In truth, maybe Sam is absorbed in his own world now, battling his own demons at Stanford, desperately trying to carve out a life separate from the chaos of hunting and the deep-rooted legacy of the Winchesters. Perhaps he is beginning to forget, bit by unforgettable bit, the steadfast brother who had always kept him safe, always been there—a guardian who now feels like a specter from the past.

Haunted by this realization, Dean grapples with the chilling understanding that he has to let go, even as it feels like a betrayal of all they shared. He realizes, with a heavy heart, that he might be the one clinging too tightly, suffocating the bond they once had in the process. The thought terrifies him, yet he doesn’t know how to loosen his grip without losing the only connection he has left to the brother he loved so fiercely.

Dean runs his thumb over the red string again. It’s late when he drives to the bus station, even though he knows it’s pointless. Sam’s gone. The Greyhound bus has long since driven off into the night, probably miles away by now, but the urge to see if maybe, just maybe, he could catch a glimpse of his brother is too strong. He parks the Impala, steps out into the cold night air, and walks to the terminal doors with a heavy heart and a mind full of things he’s too scared to say out loud. Maybe it’s not too late to fix this. To fix them. Maybe Sam hasn’t made it too far.

But he knows, deep down, that this is all futile. Sam made his choice. He’s chasing something Dean could never give him—a life free of blood and fear, free of the weight of their father’s legacy.

Dean stands there, in the shadow of the station, watching as the last of the late buses pull away. His fingers curl tighter around the red string.

This is it. This is the last piece of him. The last reminder that Sam was once his. That Sam will always be his, in some way, in some thread that runs between them. It’s the only thing Dean has left.

It’s the only thing Dean has left.

Back home, the silence feels worse. It feels suffocating. The echo of Sam’s absence is louder than anything Dean’s ever heard before. It’s in the empty rooms, in the untouched beds, in the untouched life they had built together.

Dean spends hours pacing. He drinks a bottle of whiskey to numb the ache in his chest, but it only dulls the edge of the pain, not the endless gnawing hunger to know that Sam is okay.

Sam should be okay, right? Sam was strong. Stronger than Dean ever gave him credit for. And maybe that’s the problem.

Maybe Sam didn’t need him anymore.

Dean glances at the bed, the place where Sam used to sleep. The same bed that now feels like a graveyard for the parts of their lives that he can’t put down. His hand slips down to his pinky, tugging once more at the red string.

It’s so tight now, so tight it feels like it’s about to snap. Dean can feel it pulling at his chest with every breath. He feels like he’s been split in two. One-half of him is gone, taken by the empty space Sam left behind. The other half is still here, holding onto a thread that feels so fragile, so ready to break.

And then there’s the dread that fills him when he’s alone in the quiet. The dread that maybe Sam will never come back, maybe this is the end. Maybe it’s not just a physical distance that separates them—it’s something deeper. Something that can’t be fixed by words, promises, or threads of fate.

Dean buries his face in his hands and sighs. He’s never been good at this. At feeling this vulnerable, this loss.

But Sam’s gone. And now it’s just Dean, alone in a home that doesn't feel like home anymore, trying to figure out how to keep breathing without him. How can he keep existing when the only thing that has kept him going for so long—the bond between them—feels like it’s slipping through his fingers?

He should cut the string. He should let it go.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

Notes:

Please leave a comment—whether you loved it, hated it, or just want to share your thoughts, I’d love to hear from you!

[tojisbbygworl]

The Worst Mistake - Hobie Brown x Black! Reader pt. 3

Summary: He would have went to the moon and back if it meant she would forgive him. But all she wanted was for him to be there. So he went.

Tags: 3rd person, Bad break up/Good Make up, Hurt with looootsss of Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Hobie and you need a HUG, Yearning, Established Relationship, Hobie and you are 21+, Hobie lives in Brooklyn, AU - No Powers, I forgot he was British

author's note: Okay I lied it’s actually not longer but anyway, here's the final part to the story. I really hoped you all enjoyed it! I only ask to read author's notes if it's important to the story, but I hope you guys take the time to read the ending note. You don't have to, but I would appreciate it.

Part 1 Part 2

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

She still couldn’t believe what happened when she began walking home. She left his building in a rage which immediately subsided the moment she hit the street. Then came the tears.

The man she thought she would marry one day just dumped her. Where did it even go wrong? Was it bcs of how she acted? What just happened? She was so confused and heartbroken.

How could he do this to her? She loved him so much. She thought he loved her. No, he did love her. She knows he did. So…how?

Maybe she wasn’t as good of a girlfriend as she thought she was. No one is perfect, but she should have been better. It’s got to be because of the silent treatment she gave him that day. Now that she thinks about it, she was a bit mean. But, she was hurt. It’s hard to be anything but mad.

‘You know babe, you need to grow up a bit.’

Ugh. Why would he say that? Does he know how insecure she is about that? How much more mature and responsible she thinks he is? How she doubts whether she truly deserves him? She beats herself up over it everyday, good to know he thought the same of her.

He looked so sorry afterwards. He tried to apologize, he tried to hug her, or at least touch her arm. And he sounded even softer when he woke her up asking to get underneath her covers. But, she didn’t care. He didn’t care how it came out, why should she care how she reacts? That’s what she told herself. And now the love of her life is gone.

He thought he was trying to change her into something she’s not when he had every reason to want her to mature. They’ve been dating since they were teenagers and have known each other even longer. She could see his growth and he could see hers, he wanted her to do more. She understands that now. But fuck, she hated the way he told her.

It doesn’t matter now. He was gone. He didn’t want her anymore. She’s not the person he’s going to marry, right? She’s not the one.

But, something inside of her was telling her to try again. She should talk to him. It was the shrooms. It had to be. But, she fought the feeling, remembering how angry he looked and sounded after he kicked her out. ‘No. He doesn’t want to see me or talk to me.’

She ignored it all the way home, put on a smile as her father greeted her at the door, and then ignored it some more as she writhed around in her bed. She stared at the picture of the both of them on her screen. Was this a healthy reaction? To hold her phone to her face and weep about her love to the air? Who gives a fuck, she’s been destroyed.

At some point, she just couldn’t take the pain anymore. It had been only an hour and it felt like years. She asked him Are we really done?…he didn’t answer. It would be hard, but she had to try and go to sleep. Then tomorrow, she would head straight to his house.

She texted him one more time, put on a comfort show, and focused her attention on that. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about anything. Just…sleep.

~

Hobie was practically sprinting to her house.

She had sent the text a couple hours ago now and she wasn’t picking up the phone. He knew she fell asleep, and he hoped that her ringer was on and loud enough to wake her up.

She lived with her dad who had a house much like Miles’s. When he got there, he stood outside just calling her over and over again and watching her window. “Shit,” he cursed when she still didn’t pick up. He thought about knocking, but then he wondered if she came home crying and if she told her dad everything. His head would roll if that was the case.

After a few more minutes of debilitating, he musters up all the courage he can and knocks on the door. He braces himself upon it opening only to completely relax when he saw the smile on her dad’s face. “Ah, it’s metal head,” said the old man.

Hobie let out a sigh of relief. He used his nickname, which means he didn’t want to kill him. So she didn’t say anything when she got home? “H-Hey,” he stuttered.

Her dad acted like it was any other day that Hobie came over and stepped to the side to let him in. “How are you doing tonight?” He asks, walking back into his room.

“Oh,” Hobie answers, still in shock. “Pretty good. Need to talk to Y/N.”

“Well, I won’t keep you, you two have a good night.” With that, he walks down the hall. Hobie hears a door close.

He gulps. He wasn’t sure if her dad knew or not. But if he did, he’s a merciful saint.

He took his shoes off at the door and began walking down the hallway. He passes her father’s room, the guest room, the bathroom, until he slows to a stop right outside her bedroom door. Looking down at his shaking hands, he closes his eyes and swallows. Then, he quietly pushes the door open.

The room was pitch black save for her laptop playing her favorite show. She was fast asleep. Hobie quietly walked up next to her bed and admired her peaceful form before shaking her awake. “Baby…” he whispered.

When she opened her eyes she looked confused. Hobie took a small step backwards with his hand still held out in front of him. His heart began to run, worried that she would immediately kick him out. So before she could say anything, he tried to get his apology out. “I wanted to-”

But she didn’t do that. She didn’t yell or try to fight him. She didn’t even look upset. She smiled at him. She smiled. His voice died in his throat.

“Are you really here?” She asked. “Is this really happening?”

He nods. With a cracked whisper, “Yes.”

“We’re back together?”

Hobie blinks back tears. “Yes, baby.”

She smiled even more, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “I’m so happy.”

He can’t take it anymore. She holds her arms out and he falls into them completely breaking down. His body is racked with sorrow that she could feel in her own chest. Hobie squeezes her tightly and digs his head into her shoulder soaking ig with his tears. “I’m sorry,” he cries. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says, too happy to care about anything else except the fact that he was here. Just like she wanted. “I’m so happy.” And she repeats it over and over again.

“I’ll stay sober for the rest of my fucking life,” he promises. “I don’t care.”

“Are you staying over?” He nods. She gasps in excitement. “Then come lay down.”

Hobie takes off his socks and sheds his shirt to lay down with her. When he did, she pecked him on his lips and hopped up from the bed. He watched in amazement as she began tidying up her bed and room to make the sleepover more comfortable and enjoyable for the both of them. “You hungry? I can warm up something for us.”

All he could do was shake his head. She smiled at him and practically jumped onto the bed to cuddle up next to him. “I can’t believe you actually came.” She said. “I’m just so happy I don’t know what to do.”

Hobie was in utter disbelief at what was currently happening. He was waiting for the anger to come out. She was the most emotional person he knew. She fell asleep crying about him and woke up to him in her face about to beg for her forgiveness. Now she’s bubbly and giggling like he just bought her the moon. He probably will after this.

“I can’t believe…I can’t believe you’re not mad at me.” He admits.

She shrugs. “I love you. And I missed you.”

He started to tear up again. “I love you too. And I’m sorry.”

She kissed his forehead. “I already forgave you.”

Before he could start crying again, he pulled her close to him and kissed her sweetly. “I’m going to fucking marry you.”

She didn’t respond immediately. He caressed her cheek and looked her in the eye. “I’m going to say yes…” He kissed her again. “But, you have to understand Hobie.”

She choked on her words for a second and he anxiously waited for what she would say next. “Hobie…you broke my fucking heart.” He starts to cry again. “I don’t trust you right now. I don’t know when I will again.”

He doesn’t know if this makes him narcissistic, but his heart ripped to shreds after hearing that. He knew he destroyed your trust in him, he knew how badly he hurt you, but hearing you say it right now like this made it even more real. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. No matter how long it takes.”

“I know you will,” she says again. What he did to have such a loving and understanding girlfriend…he didn’t know. But, he wasn’t letting her go after this.

The couple refused to let go of each other all night. They felt connected in a way they had never been before. Tonight, they saw how much they cared for one another and how badly they needed each other. Even though they were hurting, they wouldn’t rather be anywhere else but here, in each other’s arms.

Hobie knew that this wasn’t the end of their relationship problems. They still had a long way to go before they reached that goal, but that’s fine. He would wait a million years for her to trust him again. And she will, because he will never remake a mistake so stupid. They were end-game. He knew that now.

But, in the wee hours of the morning, when he thought she was asleep and he was awake watching the laptop thinking about everything he would do to make her happy for the rest of their lives, he heard soft sobbing. His arm that was wrapped around her body was moving up and down. He looked down at the body laying on his chest and focused in on the noise.

Her quiet wails coursed through his body down to his very soul. She gasped and stopped when he moved his hand to touch her face. He lifted her head up and saw her face streaming with tears. Her eyes bloodshot red.

“Baby I-” he started. But what could he say? Sorry? Again?

There was nothing either of them could say. She just needed him to hold her. So, she scooted up a bit more onto him and threw her head into his neck with her arms wrapped around him. He leaned his down into her and held her tighter than he’s ever held her before. The two cried silently, promising the other that they will never feel this way again. And they didn’t.

ending a/n: Thank you for reading. I'm kind of glad it's a bit lowkey compared to my other stories. It's very very personal to me as it's inspired by my actual break up/make up with my boyfriend irl which happened earlier this year. A few things are a bit different like the dialogue but approximately everything rly did happen. It hurt writing it, the first part specifically, and the second part was difficult and short since I can't really recall what he told me had happened when he went to his friend's house. And yes, his friend really did just talk about videogames while he suffered on the couch, and yes, he told him that he'll find someone else, lol.

I thought I would enjoy this third part a lot more but it was just as hard and hurtful. But I kind of liked it. Feels like therapy. I think I might write abt my love life in fanfiction some more cuz babEY ya girl has had it rough.

Anyway, I won't take up any more of your time. Thank you for reading, it means so much. I'll have more fics for y'all soon🩵

Part 1 Part 2

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

Taglist: @sh-tposter2021 @freeingrebels @hao-ming-8

[deityoftherain]

her beloved immortal - Katherine/Lizzie Empires S1 Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Relationship: F/F

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 1,173

Summary: Katherine and Lizzie are hanging out in Katherine's room, creating bracelets and loving each other dearly. As they talk, Lizzie reveals a large part of their shared past...

[Deleted Scene/Alternate Ending to "her beloved mortal" that I ended up not using]

This was written for @belovedgamers as a treat through the @mcyt-summer-of-yuri exchange!

Here's the Tumblr post for the original: https://www.tumblr.com/deityoftherain/754681162396532736/her-beloved-mortal-katherinelizzie-empires-s1

If you like it, please consider reblogging, kudosing/liking, and/or commenting :D

Katherine never thought of her life as dull or unfulfilling before, but, ever since Lizzie entered it, she has felt so genuinely blissful. It was like a piece of her soul had been returned to her, snapping in place and fitting perfectly. Waking up every day knowing that Lizzie was never too far away made her stomach flutter pleasantly with butterflies and her face warm like a candle’s flame.

It was stereotypical, sure, but Katherine already had countless sketches of possible dress designs for their own wedding, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t written their names together with a heart countless times on her journal’s pages. Every moment Katherine spent with Lizzie, the more she fell head over heels for her. Katherine was sure Lizzie felt the same.

The two women sat criss-crossed on Katherine’s bed as Lizzie taught Katherine various ways to make bracelets. Katherine had known some basic techniques growing up, sure, but never to this level and certainly not with these techniques.

It has only been a few months since they met, but Katherine felt right at home with Lizzie. It was like they knew each other for lifetimes. They exchanged much about themselves, sure, but the way they acted suggested that their knowledge about the other ran much deeper than what they would have gathered in these months.

In addition to Katherine’s work as a seamstress, she also had a passion for making plushies. The plushies were more for fun or to donate to children in need than they were for money, but Katherine found great pleasure in making them. Katherine wanted to make Lizzie a plushie, but she only briefly wondered what sort of plushie she should make. It just came to her that Lizzie would be ecstatic with an axolotl plushie, though she had this innate gut feeling that Lizzie would love whatever she made either way. Katherine could almost hear her reaction as if it were a memory.

“Look at you go!” Lizzie clapped her hands together as she cheered, proud of Katherine successfully getting down the technique. “Aw, it turned out so cute!”

Katherine beamed under Lizzie’s praise, unable to hold back her smile even if she tried. “I just had a good teacher.”

“Nonsense,” Lizzie dismissed. “You are very talented in the art of the craft, always have been. You can do anything you put your mind to. Your creativity is one of the things I love about you.”

That was another thing. Lizzie always talked like they’ve known each other for a long time. It often felt that way to Katherine as well, but, in actuality, it had only been a few months. Granted, they spent a majority of their free time together during those months, but still.

“‘Always have been,’” Katherine repeated, with a slight tilt of her head. She had to admit, she was curious why they felt so natural together. It made her mind wander to several different possibilities, unsure what would be considered too insane and unrealistic. Magic wasn’t her strong suit, but it did exist. Technically, anything was possible to certain limits. “We haven’t known each other very long, yet you talk like you’ve always known me. Tell me, have we met before and I don’t remember? Do you believe I have some sort of childhood amnesia?”

Lizzie’s lip darted out briefly to wet her lips as she thought of what to say. “I wanted to tell you the truth, but I was worried it was too soon. I didn’t want to scare you off.” “You won’t scare me off,” Katherine promised, scooting closer to Lizzie so she could set her hand over Lizzie’s.

Katherine knew she shouldn’t let herself promise such a thing, but something within Katherine knew Lizzie would never hurt her. It wasn’t a hunch or a suspicion, but a fact that her mind was positive of. It was so infused with truth that Katherine couldn’t even think of denying its validity.

Lizzie turned her hand around so their fingers could intertwine with one another. She brought Katherine’s hand up to her lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Katherine, you are my soulmate in each of your lives. I knew the moment I saw you at Gem and Pearl’s wedding that I had found you again.”

Katherine’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. If someone else told her this, she may have called them crazy and told them to stop messing with her, but, from Lizzie, it made sense like it was a typical and normal thing. “Each of my lives? What about yours?” “I’m immortal,” Lizzie admitted. “I was once mortal, we both were in our first life together. At least, I believe I was. You were dying in my arms and my grief was great. Something inside me seemed to unlock. I had power pumping through my veins that I was unaware of before. Our souls yearned to stay together, and so they did. Even as I was accepted among the ranks of the gods, I could feel a pull toward you. Once I realized your soul reincarnated, I made it my mission to seek you out in each life. Falling in love with you over and over again is my reason for continuing on. I never get bored with you by my side.” Katherine didn’t speak for several moments, needing time to process what she was being told. Lizzie’s words were genuine, she knew that much, but it was a lot to unpack. Still, Katherine had never been one to dismiss the idea of love outlasting lifetimes and other fantastical ideas.

She used her freehand to cup Lizzie’s face, looking into her eyes as her heart fluttered with warmth and love. “I believe you.”

“You always do.” Lizzie leaned into Katherine’s hand, seemingly melting into it. “And you have no idea how happy that makes me.” “I may not know everything, but what we have is too otherworldly and true to deny.” Katherine directed her cupped hand to tuck some of Lizzie’s pink hair behind her ear fin. They were close now, so close that Katherine could smell the distinct scent of ocean water and bubblegum. Those scents were muddled together, creating what was so obviously Lizzie, her Lizzie.

Before either of them truly knew it, their lips met together, fitting perfectly in place as if they were made for each other. The kisses were soft yet passionate, almost electric as life sparked within Katherine. Each kiss brought with it a flash of a memory from a past life, the memories both foreign and familiar.

Instead of scaring Katherine off, the memories from her past selves only confirmed all that she already accepted as fact. Katherine deepened the kisses, pulling Lizzie toward her until their bodies were flushed together. She climbed into her lap, legs wrapping around Lizzie’s torso. It had been far too long since they were able to be this close and they were going to take full advantage of it…

[anonymous-coffeebanana]

There's Something About A Tragedy

(a Miraculous Ladybug fanfic)

After Adrien learns the truth about his father, he wanders through a fog. Luckily, he meets some friends along the way.

...

Read on Ao3.

(full fic under the cut! cw: dissociation, panic attack)

...

The city is loud when Chat Noir’s world has just fallen apart. Each shriek of a car alarm is a screw digging into his skull. A screaming child, running away from their mother, is a knife to the heart—a reminder of that love and family have one thing in common: they’re both a lie.

Other noises are less immediate. Less clearly felt. He can only fully recognize them once they’ve seeped below the surface. Once they’re already burning him from the inside out.

The rustle of a fabric as someone walks by. (All times when Adrien was just a puppet.)

He stops to catch his breath beside a cafe; footsteps ring sharply against marble floors. (Freedom was always a fleeting thing, waiting for the clock to announce his next obligation.)

Laughter, growing nearer. (Chat remembers enjoying that, once.)

Chat walks through a fog, and he’s pretty sure it’s not all in his head. But he can’t tell for sure if the mist that clings to his periphery is a natural consequence of the passing of seasons or water’s endless cycle or the way the sun plays chicken with the clouds—how the hell is fog made anyways?

Maybe that’s not important.

Because a large part of him thinks the fog is of his own making. That the lack of clarity in his mind can’t be contained, and has taken to spilling into the streets.

There’s almost a comfort in that. In being surrounded by his own sense of self—something that never made sense. Not entirely.

At least now he knows why.

By the time hints of green sneak through the fog, opening a portal to a world that smells of sweet grass and carries a hint of even sweeter pastries, mind is buzzing. With alarm or recognition, he can’t quite tell. But the path beneath his feet feels familiar, as do the voices that weave closer and closer, waves that come apart and slam together until they finally align. Until they finally make sense.

It’s the first taste of constructive interference that Chat has known in hours.

“Hey, is it cool if I invite Alya over? We’re supposed to chill afterwards.”

“Yeah, of course. I already told her she could stop by if the project went long.”

Chat hears a groan. “If we could actually use computers instead of acting like we're stuck in the sixteenth century, we could have been done hours ago.”

“Ugh. Tell me about it.” There’s a sound of something shifting, and the fog heaves a giant sigh. A tower of books approaches. “Primary sources are heavy.”

The voices belong to two sets of footsteps—ones that have come far too close. Chat can only freeze, watching in horror and anticipation, as a laugh meets his ears.

“At least we’re almost back to your place.”

“True. And I guess there’s something to be said about learning the details of a tragedy from the words of someone who’s lived through one. Or something like—oomph.”

Marinette crashes into him the way she has so many times before, but this time he can’t catch her. He can’t even catch himself; he topples faster than the books in her arms. He lands hard on his butt, and the world tilts around him. The tips of his fingers feel numb. His chest feels tight.

Time passes—maybe a minute, maybe a lifetime—and Nino extends a hand down towards him. “Dude, you okay?”

Chat wants to reach up and take that hand, but suddenly he’s exhausted. He’s not even sure how he made it here in the first place, how the world led him right to two of his favourite people.

He just couldn’t stop moving before. He couldn’t. And now that he has…

Something bubbles up inside his chest—something painful, trying to tear itself free. But he can’t let it. That’s one thing he knows.

It’ll tear him apart, into billions of pieces. Then he’ll never escape the fog.

Marinette crouches beside him. Behind her, books are still strewn about—tragedies or casualties, all of them forgotten. “Chat Noir? What’s wrong?”

When he shakes his head, he’s not sure if he’s talking to Marinette, or to that terrible feeling inside him—the one that’s clawed its way to the top of his throat. He tries to swallow it down, but that doesn’t quite work.

He can’t quite breathe.

Marinette is right about so many things, but she often gets mixed up. And Chat thinks that, maybe, her words about primary sources is one of those times. She got it backwards, or inside out, or just…slightly off to the side.

Because there’s something about living through a tragedy that makes the details disappear. And there are no words after that.

He’s not even sure there’s living after that.

It turns out that when Chat Noir’s world is falling apart, touch is loud, too. But maybe not in a bad way.

Where Marinette’s fingers press gently against his chest, he feels a dull, throbbing sensation—like she’s reminding his heart how to beat. And when Nino kneels beside her, he claps a tentative hand to Chat’s shoulder. It forces warmth through Chat’s veins, almost enough to dispel the fog.

Marinette takes his hand, and he forgets, for just a moment, to keep pushing against that awful, writhing feeling. He lets it escape.

But there are people to hold him together now, so his sobs can’t quite tear him apart.

...

xoxo, anonymous cucumber

[azuronel]

because of r7 being released, I remembered my three Alien Stage OCs, from left to right: ONE, MYEONG, and WYNNE

more about them under the cut:

The three of them are “siblings”, adopted by the eccentric Miss Ictina, a bird-type Seygin who is a well-known artist and fashion designer for both Seygin and Pet Humans. (The name Ictina comes from Ictinia, which is a genus of birds for North American Kites.) ONE and MYEONG were adopted as a pair, despite them never having met prior. She liked the contrasting color and “saw” them as artistic foils to one another-black and white, green and pink. WYNNE isn’t much younger than them (they’re depicted here as ONE and MYEONG being about 21-23, and WYNNE is 18-20 ish), and Miss Ictina adopted him after seeing him at an adoption event for rich Seygin. WYNNE was made in the same genetic lab/breeding program that LUKA was. WYNNE is definitely her favorite of the three (boy mom) and in her eyes, he can do no wrong. WYNNE is so good at singing, WYNNE is a perfect little model. Even when they’re all grown up, WYNNE is still very carefully controlled on a collar and leash. This has led him to be very ignorant of the world around him, similar to MIZI. WYNNE is a model, instead of an idol like his “sisters”, and is often seen in Miss Ictina’s latest designs. While WYNNE did attend ANAKT GARDEN, he is not entered into ALIEN STAGE because Miss Ictina doesn’t want to lose him.

ONE and MYEONG on the other hand, are often pushed to be the best, and it still isn’t enough. While they too act as models for Miss Ictina, they’re never allowed to be in separate concepts. They’re a pair, and often pitted against one another. Miss Ictina thinks this way they’ll both grow beyond what other pet humans are capable of if in direct competition, but instead they come to resent one another deeply. Both feel that as long as both of them live, they won’t be able to be their own person. So when Miss Ictina decides to sign one of them up for ALIEN STAGE, they demand to both be entered, so they can truly finally be rid of one another. It’s the only time they’ve ever agreed.

ONE is more reserved, with a voice best suited for ballads. She was assigned green as a kid by Miss Ictina-to match with her eyes and “sweet” nature. As a child, ONE was very affectionate to Miss Ictina, but slowly pulled back once WYNNE was in the picture. She was a top student during her time at ANAKT GARDEN, beloved by caretakers, but only a handful of other students being her friends or liking her. She focused more on getting better to one day surpass MYEONG.

MYEONG, on the other hand, is the more outgoing of the two, with a powerful voice suited for pop punk. Assigned pink as a kid by Miss Ictina due to her more “aggressive” nature. She has a hard time expressing her emotions now because Miss Ictina has carefully trained her and ONE to become similar to one another in actions for their “double act”, making them perfect, compliant models. Her grades were all over the place in ANAKT GARDEN, but always enough to pass. The caretakers didn’t like her that much, but she was popular with other students because she was good at athletics and games. She had a habit of trying to sabotage ONE, but it didn’t work.

They’re entered in the 27th season of ALIEN STAGE, and ONE and MYEONG only face one another in Round 7-the Finale. It’s one of the highest-rated seasons of ALIEN STAGE, due to the hype around the idea of a ONE VS MYEONG showdown-the two had a very dedicated fan base prior as models, and many in the media had been pitting them against each other for years. It was an EVENT, think like Barbenheimer levels. People were changing social media profiles, betting, and showed up in outfits depending on the girl’s color. Miss Ictina saw a huge increase in sales.

The outfits they’re drawn in in the right picture represent their R7 outfits, and WYNNE is wearing what he did in the crowd.

ONE wins, and as she watches the light leave her sisters eyes, she realizes she’s lost the one person in the world who could possibly understand her. She’s gotten everything she’s ever wanted, but she’s alone. She and MYEONG hated each other, but she was always there. She’s finally surpassed MYEONG, at a terrible cost. The last thing she says to her sister is “I’m so sorry.”

WYNNE takes it hard, he likes both of his sisters, but now one of them is gone. WYNNE has never really understood what happens when one of his classmates in ANAKT GARDEN disappears suddenly-but now he does. He breaks-he can’t look at ONE the same anymore. ONE can’t look at herself the same anymore. She doesn’t know who she is without her other half.

Miss Ictina adopts two young human boys the next year, starting the cycle over again.

[memekeymouse]

I just remembered I had this old AU i never really elaborated on and. man. man. man

genuinely though. how has no one banked on the horror aspects of this. they have the same roles and similar personalities and even the same gags/episode plots. PLEASE understand my vision

What I picture happened was that oswald and ortensia were walt and ub’s beloved toon stars but then lost the rights to them to universal, nothing changed there

……..except that walt and ub are NOT okay with just handing them over to universal. They were just beginning to become famous! Do you have any idea how hard it would be to replicate toons like that from scratch??? yeah, they’re not gonna do all that song and dance again

of course there’s the whole copyright law thing to take into account. so what they do is basically [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] and then Mickey and Minnie come to be!

At first (Plane Crazy/Galloping Gaucho era) they act….off. Because their hearts don’t ‘recognize’ them as they are, they don’t act as intended at first. But then walt gets the idea of replicating the same gags/episodes to ‘trick’ the hearts and make the mice more like ‘themselves’. This all sounds like bullshit as I’m typing it because it is but somehow it works. Mickey and Minnie’s personalities become more defined and people love them as they used to love Oswald and Ortensia

However, they still have odd behavior from time to time, becoming more and more frequent. Feelings of deja vu and having memories of things that never happened, calling each other by the wrong names and seeing the wrong faces/hearing the wrong voices, being uncomfortable around mirrors…….or around their creators

To the humans, Oswald and Ortensia never showing up again is more like a case of lost property so after long, nobody cares about them anymore. To toons though, it’s pretty much a missing persons’ case. Where did they go? What happened to them? And how could their studio replace them with these newcomers SO quickly??? Minnie and Mickey are made to feel like replacements by other toons yet no one realizes how literal that is

Only the very few Toons from ‘before’ begin to suspect there’s something off (Pete, Felix the Cat, Fanny, mmmmmaybe Julius?). Felix in particular was close with Oswald and Ortensia, and he befriends the mice too but at the same time can’t help but resent them for replacing his friends specially where they’re just. so. alike

At first I was like “wait does this mean the bunny children are technically orphans now” and then I realized…..the orphans. the hundreds of mice orphans that love mickey and also might as well be his and minnie’s kids. They fulfill the same role but by being less personal than his actual kids. I guess they got [REDACTED] by Walt and Ub too so that’s what they look like now

Mickey and Minnie growing more paranoid and isolated but somehow they trust completely on each other almost as if….they’ve known each other for much longer……haha weird……..

[cg-saturn]

hiiii! I not really big on opening up to anyone but I tink I need some advices. a while ago me an my ex broked up and while I am glad we not together and I'm very happy wit my current partner and is way very healthier, my ex knew about me being agere and took care of me when I was feelin smol, but my current partner don't know an this is really botherin me. ik that he proly won't care, but I'm scared to tell him cuz I scared he gonna leave. I thought I could keep it to myself and just be smol when is just me, but the other night I regressed when we were watching justice league unlimited (bestest show eva) and I tink I did good at actin big but I feel like I has to tell him bc ik this is gonna happen again an I don't wanna hide who I am. I sorry for dumpin this out but I dunno who else I could ask for advice on this from. tank you for listening and for your entire blog, it been a really big help for me to know that I'm not broken for being agere and it's ok to be smol

Heya kiddo! First and foremost: you are not broken for being agere.

I feel like I get asked pretty often how to ‘come out’ as a regressor. There’s no right or wrong way, as long as the timing is right and you’re ready to have that talk. It can be nerve wracking for sure, but the good news is you can be open about your emotions once it’s out there! It can also take a lot of anxiety off the partner when you tell them- maybe they’ve regressed too, or they’ve noticed and haven’t known what to do, and now you can openly talk about it!

We luckily live in a day and age where if your partner has questions, there are tons of resources to find some answers! Agere isn’t gross or strange, it’s most commonly a coping mechanism when someone had something happen that made them grow up too quick. If you’re comfortable enough, sharing that can help explain why it happens when they inevitably ask- but if you’re not ready to talk about it, you can always say ‘I’m not ready’ and come back to it later in life.

It’s probably a good idea to come up with ways your partner can interact with you before you bring it up, because the second most common question someone has is ‘how do I act when you’re in that space?’

Different people have different levels of comfort when it comes to being ‘hands on’. Do not start off expecting them to be perfect! Caretakers spend a lot of time basically playing guessing games- especially when they’re new to it. If you’re able to stay ‘big’ enough to still care for yourself at first, you can teach your partner things that make you happy. Bring up your favorite books, snacks that make you small, shows, games, things that you like to be called (like kiddo or little one), anything that’s easy to remember. As time goes on, they’ll learn your ‘tells’ and get better at coming up with things on their own, but it does sometimes take a bit for even the most excited new caretakers to actually get a footing.

I also want to offer that my dm and askbox are both always open for first time cgs looking for tips! I’ve been on both sides of agere, and I know how challenging it can be to try and navigate the craziness, but I also know how worth it everything can be when my star is sleeping soundly with their paci and stuffies. All relationships take a little work, but if you both spend the time learning about each other, it will be worth it.

I’m wishing you the best of luck little one, I hope this goes well for you! I’m extremely proud of you for being honest with yourself and knowing that this is who you are! There’s no shame, no reason to hide it! Go enjoy life, stop and smell the flowers, and be who you are. You deserve to be happy!

[lire-casander]

#36 feeling bad when the other is having a hard time

feeling bad when the other is having a hard time original prompt list here

Robert’s health is rapidly deteriorating. Everyone can see it, and now even his daughters are aware of it. Apparently, Owen’s brother had told them before their trip to attend the wedding, and they’d taken to the news quite well.

Probably, Carlos thinks, because they hadn't seen until that moment what Huntington’s disease does to a person.

It’s not just the deterioration of Robert’s physical condition — the tremors that are harder to hide and the difficulty in remembering certain things. It’s also that, some time along the way, and not that far from that very moment, Robert will cease to be himself, becoming instead a ghost of the man he once had been.

But the disease is also taking its toll on Robert’s family. In the short time he’s known her, Carlos can tell Sydney looks exhausted; it’s the caretaker curse, he thinks. The girls don’t seem to understand what the illness is doing to their father’s health to its full extent, but Carlos is sure they will soon enough. Although it’s not only the girls he’s worried about.

TK thinks he can hide his pain from Carlos, but he’s got a trained eye on soul battlefields. He can tell when TK’s hurting, and this is one of those times. They’ve talked a lot in the past few weeks, ever since they found out about the hereditary condition Owen’s estranged father had gifted them all with. Finding out both Owen and TK should have been a relief, but TK hadn’t really looked happy about it. Instead, Carlos has noticed that his fiancé doesn’t really finish his food anymore and that he fidgets much more than before.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks one night, the day before their last family dinner as fiancés.

“Talk about what?” TK answers without another question, raising one eyebrow at him.

“About what’s stressing you,” Carlos says, pointing at the way TK’s been pushing his vegetables around his plate. “And don’t tell me it’s wedding jitters. I know it’s deeper than that. I know you.”

TK takes a moment to himself, as though he’s pondering whether or not he can trust Carlos with whatever this is. And to Carlos’ utmost panic, he suddenly drops his fork and begins to cry.

It takes Carlos a second to stand up and rush to TK, pulling him into his warm embrace. “I’m here,” he whispers into TK’s ear. “I’ve got you.”

He rocks TK back and forth gently as his fiancé cries, TK’s tears wetting Carlos’ shirt where TK’s face is pressed against Carlos’ chest. It’s an almost unbearable feeling; Carlos’ heart breaks a little with each tear that TK sheds. He resorts to humming the song his mother always sang to him when he was a little kid and he was hurting, but not even that stops TK’s wails from echoing through the loft.

“I’m sorry,” TK hiccups. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“I think you do,” Carlos says softly, “but you’re scared to tell me.” When he feels, more than sees, TK nodding, he continues, “I’m here. I’m your soulmate, remember? You can tell me anything.”

“It’s just—I’m relieved that I won’t develop Huntington’s,” TK confesses. “But I’m so mad at myself because of that. Because my uncle is dying from it, and my cousins will have to grow up without a father, and he will never see them graduate from college, he will never walk them down the aisle, and they won’t be able to call him whenever they have a problem and I—”

“Hey, hey,” Carlos cuts him off. “Breathe, just breathe. “It’s okay to have conflicting feelings, baby. It’s a difficult situation.”

“I just think life’s so fucked up sometimes,” TK sniffles. “I’ve just found out I have extended family. Uncle Robert is so cool. And Aunt Sydney and the girls. Why do they have to go through it? I know what it’s like to lose a parent, I have a brother who’s growing up without his mother and it kills me. How am I supposed to be here tomorrow night and smile at them and act as though nothing bad’s happening when he’s dying? When he wants to die?”

“I know your father has told you this before,” Carlos says after a moment. He chooses his words carefully through his own pain. “But we all have a death sentence hanging over our heads. We’re not promised tomorrow. So we might as well enjoy life to its fullest while we can. That’s what your uncle is doing.”

“But he’s asked Dad—”

“We can’t judge his decision,” Carlos continues, ignoring TK’s attempt at interrupting. “I know you don’t like it, but we have to respect it. We can’t understand anyone until we’ve walked a mile in their shoes, TK. But I get it,” he says softly, holding TK closer and tighter. “You have every right to be upset.”

TK nods, sniffling heavily until his crying resumes; he grabs a handful of Carlos’ shirt in his fist and squeezes, grieving for what could have been and mourning for what will never be.

After what seems like an eternity, TK’s crying subsides; Carlos tries to move back to see TK’s face, but his fiancé holds on for dear life, his grip almost hurting him, so Carlos does the only thing he can think of.

He holds on right back to TK.

[badnew2005]

mac + the record by boygenius becos i love doing big posts like this :D

without you without them. found family of All Time. charmacden and the gang as a whole. the thousand billion different forms the gang has taken. it’s always them. mac growing up so neglected and lonely, desperately craving any mimicry of family and love he could find. and here comes this messy smelly kid who’s actually a couple months older than him but looks years younger. cat <3 mac 4eva . spending christmas throwing rocks at trains. it’s us against the world as long as we’ve got eachother we’ll be fine. and then come these rich bratty twins who act like they’re so much better than you but you know you and charlie are the closest thing they’ve ever seen to god. i want to hear your story and be apart of it. the gang unpicking their pasts unpicking what makes them Them. learning what you don’t Have to talk about, how to make life bearable. “a love letter to the mortifying ordeal of being known, written in a pandemic world that violently reminded us how much we need each other”…… that’s them baby!!!

20$. i’m stuck how longs the chevy been on cinderblocks as macden mac gaining/taking back independence and mac driving vs dennis’ sense of control being seen within the range rover. but just. oh this is So mac. it’s a bad idea and i’m all about it. long live project badass. whatever the idiots he loves suggests he’s there !!! i want to know more macden road trips. driving charlie around philly. driving to visit den in college. i cant summarise it well yet further than. ITS SO MAC !!!!! song about the “wanting to poke the bear impulse” hello mac. nice to see you here. having so much passion being ride or die for whatever ur friends want picking a side and dying on it no questioning. the subtle breakdown of that devotion. bickering. i Know you have twenty dollars. macden living together for Twenty Years. ran out of gas out of time out of money. the loves still there but they’re twenty years older and it can’t sustain itself running on nothing for this long. wanting a bit more. wanting to run back in time

emily i’m sorry. the cars !!!! can be both mac pov ab den or den pov ab mac. waking up inside a dream full of screeching tires and fire. the storm. the apartment burning down. all the wars mac and dennis are each fighting inside their heads that are keeping them from eachother. (again macden road trips i know you exist i want to hear more about you) suburbs maybe. and i feel myself becoming someone only you could want. that’s them. macden and the gang. someone only you could love. i’m sorry i just make it up as i go along. again both mac pov ab den and den pov ab mac. it’s their first time being this person coming out and everything that comes with being Them. sure they’re forty they should know better but. it’s their first time. i’m not ready! we could run away be other people. macden most comfortable acting as other people hiding behind fake identities. i’m sorry.

true blue. similarly could be both mac pov ab den or den pov ab mac but i’m sticking with mac pov. knowing dennis so well behind his lies and walls. loving him so passionately despite everything. the first two verses are just So let me tell you about dennis. den running away to college to north dakota fucking around to find out who he is calling mac confessing everything and nothing. and i wasn’t surprised! AND IT FEELS GOOD TO BE KNOWN SO WELL !!!!! I CANT HIDE FROM YOU LIKE I HIDE FROM MYSELF. they know eachother. too much. it feels Good from macs perspective. terrifying from dens. they’re on opposite ends of journey of coming out. even before mac started weathering the storm, dennis Knew him. ofc macden moving in together. straight after college or dennis slinking home from north dakota back to mac. it’s scary. he can’t live without him. YOU ALREADY HURT MY FEELINGS THREE TIMES IN THE WAY ONLY YOU COULD. again loving dennis so passionately, despite everything. i remember who i am when i’m with you !!!! your love is TOUGH your love is TRIED AND TRUE BLUE !!!!! it hurts ! and it’s ugly ! but i love you !! i do !!! i cant stop. i don’t want to stop. dependable and alarming and loyal never ending. YOUVE NEVER DONE ME WRONG EXPECT FOR THAT ONE TIME THAT WE DONT TALK ABOUT BECAUSE IT DOESNT MATTER ANYMORE WHO WON THE FIGHT I DONT KNOW WERE NOT KEEPING SCORE !!!!!!!!!!!! there’s nothing to say. it’s him.

cool about it. the dive bar. paddys <3. i’m trying to be cool about it !!!!! i love you !!!!! feeling like an absolute fool about it !!!! i love you too much !!!!!!! wishing you were kind enough to be cruel about it. times up. it’s never gonna happen. it is. talking himself into i can live without dennis without this love. i cant. wanting dennis to apologise. to be Real for once. to not run away. to shout and scream at him and everything he’s ever done. loving him Despite it. to validate macs feelings and experiences. absolution and all it’s religious connotations. religion woven into this love you can’t escape it. dennis as the golden god. dennis as a thousand sins, the ultimate temptation. wanting so badly to just forget about him to be able to walk away like dennis seemed to be able to do so. once i took your medication to know what it’s like and now i have to act like i cant read your mind i ask you how you’re doing and i let you lie but we don’t have to talk about it i can walk you home and practice method acting ILL PRETEND BEING WITH YOU DOESNT FEEL LIKE DROWNING tellin you it’s nice to see how good you’re doing even though we know it isn’t true. again. nothing else to say. that’s them. all tied up.

not strong enough !!!!!!!!!!! i know i have done a thousand not strong enough posts but surprise surprise the search function isn’t working. another jumping around perspective jumping around timeline. IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BE YOUR MAN. mac and the storm. mac getting so so so strong while dennis was in north dakota getting so so so strong to come out physically and emotionally. to find his pride. black hole opened in the kitchen their midnight teas inflate peeking into the kitchen. theyre drowning stuck in that apartment. but it’s also a lifeboat! the double i’m not strong enough to be your man i lied i am / i lied i am just lowering your expectations. i Am strong enough to come out, but you’re not. don’t expect much from me i don’t know if i can deliver it. I DONT KNOW WHY I AM THE WAY I AM !!!!! i don’t know why i’m like this. i cant stop it. the bossiness the obsession. ALWAYS AN ANGEL NEVER A GOD ALWAYS AN ANGEL NEVER A GOD !!!!!!!! the storm !!!! the storm !!!!!!!! no matter how hard he tires that war is never ever ending!!! gods never gonna come say ur alright mac it’s okay.

revolution 0. macs crippling lonely upbringing. whatever the fuck macdennis is. it’s not real. none of it is. whatever he thinks the love between him and dennis is. if it isn’t love then what the fuck is it. just let me pretend !!!!!! angry and violent child screaming for love and attention never quite learning how to stop, because love never found him! the storm. dennis vs god. maybe they’re the same. he would like that. being stuck forever the only people who have stayed Hate you and they won’t shut up about it. if you’re raised with an angry man in your house …. go and invite him in etc. i wish he was angrier. mom too. i wish they cared enough to shout at me. give me Something other than indifference. even if the gang hate me at least they tell me they’ll scream and shout and laugh and punch me. at least they see me.

leonard cohen. macden driving forever !!!!!! listening to dennis’ stupid music forever. trying to read into it to see part of him between the chorus and the verse. if you love me you will listen to this song. of course i love you dennis. i’ve been listening to rick astley since i met you. i promise i will never give you up. or let you down. or run around and desert you. even if you do it to me a thousand times (you will). you said i might like you less now that you know me so well. I MIGHT LIKE YOU LESS NOW THAT YOU KNOW ME SO WELL. cause i know you man. right after mac came out. I Know You. that’s terrifying. so he ran (around and deserted mac)! i think that’s true. telling stories we wouldn’t tell anyone else. the comfort of driving. den’s flimsy sense of control. not having to look eachother in the eye. music playing on the radio you can pretend you didn’t hear. “there’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in” sunny is a love story. and i am (not) an old man having an existential crisis at a buddhist monastery writing horny poetry. turning their apartment into a church. macs room a place of worship. i never thought love would happen to me i never thought You would happen to me

satanist. a satanist an anarchist a nihilist with me. let’s run away and hide and be someone else. they can’t catch us. i’ll go against god i’ll be a Satanist as long as You’re with me as long as i have you. please can we run away. do you want to be in my life a long time? i want you there. macden and hiding behind these fake personas. everyone else has talked ab this phenomenon a thousand times better than i am today. at least until you find out what a fake i am. i’m sorry i don’t think i can actually leave god behind. he’s the only person who loves me. we both know you can’t let yourself love me. honey and vinegar. you wonder if you can ever be seen from so far away a slow pull a seismic drift leaning over the edge of the continent. it’s so hard to come back!! you hang on until it drags you under.

we’re in love. they’re in love !!!!!! you could Absolutely break my heart. that’s how i know. loving dennis Despite everything. and i told you of your past lives, every man you’ve ever been, it wasn’t flattering boy you listened like it mattered. he’s trying at least. again a thousand times mac and dennis Having to hide behind aliases and masks. if you rewrite your life may i still play a part. dennis trying to run away to Be someone else but always having to come crawling home to mac. in the next one will you find me i’ll be the boy with the pink carnations pinned to my lapel who looks like hell and asks for help. that’s them. that’s always been them. there’s something about you that i will always recognise. we’re in love. it’s stupid and ugly and wrong in all the right ways and right in all the wrong ways. it’s us and it’s love!

anti curse. OUGHHHHH. i have already done a line by line mac analysis of this song ITS SO. it’s the storm! he’s drowning !!!! everybody else knew mac was gay but he’s Still drowning. making peace with my inevitable death drowning on the boat, mac coming out and abandoning god - the gang begging him to ask god for help, and when the heavens open and god answers they all climb and kick and push mac down to the bottom. and he drags them back down. he was ready to die with the gang. to go to hell. the gates opened god listened to him God Heard Him Say He’s Gay. being ready to die to be swallowed by this storm. i guess i did. alright considering !! macs relationship w his parents. with the gang. tried to be a halfway decent friend wound up a bad comedian. they all hate me. he’s spent his whole life begging for his parents to love him this moved onto the gang. but they all hate him. he’s a joke. was anyone ever so young? all they are is children begging for love and attention. unpacking god in the suburbs. meeting dennis. never being able to go back. i’m swimming back !!!! learning to weather the storm !!!!! dad. i’m gay. he’s not drowning!!! controlling the war holding your own little peace summit at the eye of the storm. you don’t have to make it bad just cause you know how. dennis begging and screaming for him to just go back in the closet. no! writing the words to the worst love song you’ve ever heard. loving them all despite everything. sunny is a love story. love in its foreign characters an incantation like an anticurse (or even a blessing!!!!) mac being the only member of the gang Not cursed in the gang gets cursed. he’s finally on a string of luck ! but fucks it up anyways

letter to an old poet. OH MY GOD. oh my god. i cant stop i just cant. you all know my s16 theme was macs anger!!! wanting to confront dennis but not wanting him to run again. it’s all bubbling. it’s coming. i said i think that you’re special you told me once that i’m selfish AND I KISSED YOU HARD IN THE DARK AND IN THE CLOSET you said my music is mellow maybe i’m just exhausted YOU THINK THAT YOURE A GOOD PERSON JUST CAUSE YOU WONT PUNCH ME IN THE STOMACH . AND I LOVE YOU !!! I DONT KNOW WHY I JUST DO. but !!! you’re not special you’re Evil ! you don’t get to tell me to calm down. you made me feel like an equal BUT IM BETTER THAN YOU ! and you should know that by now. when you fell down the stairs it looked like it hurt and i wasn’t sorry !!! i should have left you right there. with your hostages my heart and my cat keys. YOU DONT KNOW ME !!!!!!!!!! i wanna be happy I’m Ready To Walk Into My Room Without LOOKING FOR YOU i’ll go up to the top of our building and remember my dog when i see the full moon. I CANT FEEL IT YET. BUT I AM WAITING. there’s nothing else to say. explaining it would just be patronising. he’s there!!!! he’s weathered the storm and he’s had enough of dennis fucking around. had enough of everything ever being about dennis. i’ve actually been through shit i deserve it dennis. i should beat you up. leave you out to try. i shouldn’t have let you back in. but i did! because of course i did! you stole my parachute blindfolded me span me around and pushed me out of a moving aircraft. but i survived. built my own campsite all alone. you made me cry you said goodbye you told countless lies and hurt me. that’s all you ever do. i don’t think you deserve to live blameless anymore. i want to hold you accountable. but you’ll just run away again won’t you. make everyone hate me for no reason other than you’re scared how much i know you. come on. you fucking coward. celebrity booze mac is calm and collected confident ab his outfit while dennis is almost falling apart. the argument on the plane. everyone else is scared. mac was taking notes. he’s not stupid he knows dennis was johnny. but he can’t Say it he Can’t scream and shout and beat dennis.

[onenakedfarmer]

PHILLIP LARKIN ”The Old Fools”

What do they think has happened, the old fools, To make them like this ? Do they somehow suppose It’s more grown-up when your mouth hangs open and drools And you keep on pissing yourself, and can’t remember Who called this morning ? Or that, if they only chose, They could alter things back to when they danced all night, Or went to their wedding, or sloped arms some September ? Or do they fancy there’s really been no change, And they’ve always behaved as if they were crippled or tight, Or sat through days of thin continuous dreaming

Watching light move ? If they don’t (and they can’t), it’s strange: Why aren’t they screaming ?

At death, you break up: the bits that were you Start speeding away from each other for ever With no one to see. It’s only oblivion, true: We had it before, but then it was going to end, And was all the time merging with a unique endeavour To bring to bloom the million-petalled flower Of being here. Next time you can’t pretend There’ll be anything else. And these are the first signs: Not knowing how, not hearing who, the power Of choosing gone. Their looks show that they’re for it: Ash hair, toad hands, prune face dried into lines- How can they ignore it ?

Perhaps being old is having lighted rooms Inside your head, and people in them, acting. People you know, yet can’t quite name; each looms Like a deep loss restored, from known doors turning,

Setting down a Iamp, smiling from a stair, extracting A known book from the shelves; or sometimes only The rooms themselves, chairs and a fire burning, The blown bush at the window, or the sun’ s Faint friendliness on the wall some lonely Rain-ceased midsummer evening. That is where they live: Not here and now, but where all happened once. This is why they give

An air of baffled absence, trying to be there Yet being here. For the rooms grow farther, leaving Incompetent cold, the constant wear and tear Of taken breath, and them crouching below Extinction’ s alp, the old fools, never perceiving How near it is. This must be what keeps them quiet. The peak that stays in view wherever we go For them is rising ground. Can they never tell What is dragging them back, and how it will end ? Not at night?

Not when the strangers come ? Never, throughout The whole hideous inverted childhood? Well, We shall find out.

[watermelonsugacry]

Did Olivia ever try and make a move on Harry while filming DWD? Maybe she made comments about yn and that kinda made everyone mad, including Florence (since their close friends (maybe they did a movie together🤷‍♀️))

Donuts

A/N: thought it was fitting to post this with everything going on lately. also im back in school so i won't be posting as much anymore...and TYSM FOE 1.6k FOLLOWERS I DONT DESERVE YOU LOVIES 💚

SUMMARY: YN surprises Harry on set while he's filming DWD. (3.2k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist

After a busy week of work, YN had the time to come on the set of Don’t Worry Darling as it was nearing its date for the end of filming.

So with the help of her manager and Harry’s PA for the movie (along with the permission from two of the film’s executive producers), the three women set up boxes upon boxes of donuts and coffee crates where the cast and crew hang out during breaks. Harry was still in his trailer and was reassured that he wouldn’t come out unless instructed to by his PA.

“YN!” 

YN looks up with a bright smile as she sees Florence quickly shuffling over to her in her slippers. She meets the actress halfway and they throw each other in a big hug.

She’s known Flo since YN made her professional acting debut as Jo March in Little Women. YN remembers being quite nervous for the task, but the two women instantly clicked. It wasn’t hard to play sisters on screen because they quickly became ones before their first week of rehearsals were up. They began to spend time together outside of work when they both happened to be free. YN even made it on an Instagram story episode of Flo’s Kitchen once. 

Not to mention that when she heard that the actress was going to play alongside her boyfriend in this new psychological thriller, YN was quick to send her one of the biggest flower bouquets she could find with a note telling her of how she was quite jealous of Harry’s role.

“Flo! ‘Ve missed you.”

“Missed you more, you wouldn’t even believe it.” Florence stresses as she widens her eyes and it puts a sad smile on YN’s face. 

She knows more than anyone how much Flo would like the project to be over with. The actress saw first hand how inappropriate Olivia was being with her friend’s boyfriend, venting to YN about how the director wasn’t even on set for most of the time and how that resulted into her having to pick up the slack. Not to mention how Olivia rewrote the script, making her side character basically become Florence's character and was overall a horrible director. YN knew it was bad when the two main actors for the film, the two nicest—kindest people she’s ever known—talked bad about the movie.

“Oooo, are those donuts?” YN can basically see the hearts form over Florence’s eyes and it makes her chuckle.

“Please, help yourself. They’re for everyone. Thought it could boost everyone's mood a bit.”

“Mood is definitely lifted.” Flo says through a mouthful of pastry. She perks up and raises her eyebrows up and down at the singer. “Are yeh gonna go surprise your man with one of these?”

Arms linked together, the two women walk over to Harry’s trailer as they catch up with one another. YN doesn’t know why, but her palms grow a little sweaty at the thought of surprising him. The couple had spent months together for quarantine but once it was safe to go back to work with some modifications, they’ve both been feeling the separation as nothing less than unbearable lately. 

Either it’s Harry coming to bed in the late hours of the night, cuddling up close to her sleeping body or him waking up to her going around the room to get her things ready to go into rehearsals for a new music video in the early hours of the morning. 

He would rasp out a “Baby?” and her heart would break in two for having to leave him. He would lift his head barely above the pillow, eyes still closed with his lips puckered out. She would run a hand over his hair before giving him a quick peck goodbye when she was running late. 

Sometimes, once she was close enough, Harry would wrap an arm around her waist and pull her back down to the bed, trapping her underneath his warm, sleepy body with a promise of five more minutes.

Florence climbs up the two short steps of the white trailer while YN stays below. She knocks twice before saying, “H? It’s Flo. ‘Ve got something for you.” She winks at YN.

“Coming!” Harry’s muffled voice sounds through the door and it’s already making the butterflies release in her tummy. The door opens and YN stays hidden behind the side of the trailer with a giddy smile.

“Got you a donut.” Florence smiles innocently as she holds it out on a square napkin.

“Aw, thanks Flo.” YN can see his ringless, tattoo-less hand reach for it only for her to pull it just out of his reach.

“Ah ah. If y’want it, y’gotta come out to get it.” She playfully teases and YN covers her smiles with her sleeve covered hands as her boyfriend takes the bait. Florence gets him down the short steps with a chuckle and one left turn has him stopping in his tracks, a bright smile takes over his face and his dimples dig into his cheeks just the way she likes it.

His hair is held down by white alligator clips and he’s already dressed in a button down and navy blue trousers. 

“Hi baby—oh!” YN laughs when Harry immediately takes her in his arms, lifting her from the ground.

Florence can’t help but put her hands over her chest at the sight in front of her. It makes her think about how delusional the director is for ever trying to get with Harry when he’s in a perfectly committed relationship, when he’s stupidly head over heels in love with the woman in his arms. She looks down at her slippers with smile on her face when Harry cups his girlfriend’s cheeks and smushes his lips against YN’s. “Well, I’ll leave you two lovers be.”

YN pushes at her boyfriend’s shoulders but his grip around her figure stays tight. “I see you in a bit, yeah?” YN giggles, still trying to wiggle out from Harry’s embrace. 

“Please. You guys are my only bit of sanity around here.” Florence dramatically stressed and hands over the donut. “Later hubby. Bye wifey.”

Once they see her round the corner, YN turns to her smirking boyfriend.

“Well that was quite rude of yeh.” She playfully scolds Harry, but she can’t hold back the smile that spreads over her lips when he rubs his nose lovingly against hers.

“‘Ve missed you.” He tells her quietly, like it’s a secret that is only meant for them to hear. He knows that he sounds like a love sick idiot but the hit to ego is softened when she mumbles the words back to him with a kiss to his lips. He gives her a nods over to his white trailer before interwining their hands together and leads them inside. 

Once the door closes behind them, YN lets her eyes wonder around the trailer. She sees the familiar items around that she recognizes from their many facetime chats: the floral curtains covering the windows, the make-up chair, the blue couch, the white built-in vanity—the one which Harry wastes no time grabbing her hips to lift her up onto with ease. 

“Yeh look absolutely beautiful today.” Harry says, hands placed on either side of her thighs as he takes in the view in front of him. She isn’t wearing anything special today, just his gray Damn hoodie with a pair of jean shorts. She didn’t even do anything fancy with her hair, letting it down in it’s natural state. 

YN lets out a snort. “I clearly dress to impress.” She says as she brings her thumb up and see that it caught onto a bit of frosting from the donut. He honestly forgot she was still holding onto it as he was clearly to mesmerized by his girlfriend being with him in his trailer. 

Before she brings her thumb to her mouth, he gently takes a hold of her wrist and pushes the digit past his own lips. She can feel his warm mouth lick and suck the frosting off her skin. She sucks in a small, staggered breath at the sight of his green eyes slowly blinking back at her. 

It’s safe to say that the lack of time spent together due to their newly recent busy schedules these past couple of weeks left no time for them to be intimite. During quarantine, mornings lasted a lifetime with slow, lazy sex. Time stalled in the afternoons with doing it on every counter surface, seating area, and bed in YN LA home. And the late nights slowed down time with endless rounds and rounds, experimenting and loving one another until both couldn’t even remember their own names.

He releases her thumb with a soft pop and tilts how head with a smile. “S’tasty.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” He hums, leaning in to meet her mouth halfway only for her to swerve and take a bite out of the pastry. She giggles through a mouth full of donut at his shocked expression. “Yeh mean.”

“Yeh right though, this is tasty.” YN nods after swallowing and her breath gets taken away when he officially gets his mouth on hers again, gently licking the corners of her mouth to taste the frosting there. Before she can deepen the kiss the way she craves, she pulls back with a gasp. “Harry!”

He laughs as his frosted covered finger runs along her jawline. “I am so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to.”

She knows he’s not sorry in the slightest bit by the way he’s smirking at her. And in turn, he knows that she’s not truly upset at him. It’s been so long since they’ve spent some quality time together, either one easing back into their busy schedules.

“Harry,” YN giggles as she feels Harry lick the frosting off of her jaw, a hand gently on her neck to keep her close. “We can’t do anythin’, yeh gonna mess up your wardrobe.”

What might have started out as a playful moment between them quickly brings a tingling feeling in the bottom of their bellies. She doesn’t even realize that she subconsciously opens her legs wider for him to come in closer, feeling him press up against her.

“Well, you can’t do anything to me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still please you, hum?” YN’s chuckle turns into a small whimper when he sponges his lips under her ear, taking her earlobe in between his teeth. “Think yeh can keep yeh grabby hands to yourself? Wouldn’t want to mess up my hair, right?”

YN lets out a soft moan when she feels the hand on her neck tighten its hold, her head thumping back against the mirror as she feels his other hand roam down her body to the place she craves him the most.

She desperately wants to rip the dress shirt from his body, but gripping onto the tops of his shoulders would suffice for now.

“Answer me.” He rasps into her ear and she can feel his hand slowly run up the inside of her thigh, the tips of his fingers teasingly sliding under the fabric. 

“I—”

“Harry! It’s time for your—oh shit! Sorry!” The couples’ attention quickly turns to the trailer door and unfortunately sees the director standing there, eyes wide before the back of her hand hovers over her eyes.

“Shit, m’sorry.” Harry straightens up and clears his throat. Despite having a disliking towards the woman who just interrupted their private time together, he still wants to act professional around her. She is still his boss. “Um, Olivia this is my girlfriend, YN. Baby, this is our director.”

“Hello, I’m Oli—”

“Ms. Wilde. Please, there’s no need to introduce yourself, I already know who yeh are. S’pleasure to meet you.” YN hops off from the vanity with her media trained smile on her face. “V’heard so much about yeh.”

“I can most certainly say the same.” Olivia gives her an over dramatic, polite smile. She gives the pop-star a once over and is taken aback by how effortlessly beautiful she is. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. But I do have to say, I’m a bit surprised to see you here.”

“Catherine and Daria gave me permission to come and observe from the sidelines. I hope that’s alright with you.” YN professionally fakes her concern towards the woman who she watches hesitantly think about it.

“Why not. The more the merrier!” YN lets of a forced chuckle along with the director and Harry has to pinch his bottom lip to hide his growing smile. “Alrighty then, Harry, we need you on set in five.”

“Yes, I’ll be out in sec.” Harry politely smiles and gives the director a nod. And with that, Olivia begins her descend down the short steps.

“It was nice meeting you!” YN calls out of the trailer. Olivia throws a (forced) smile and wave her way before rounding the corner.

Harry watches as his love’s smile turns into her scrunching up top lip into a look of annoyance. She sassily raises up her eyebrows once she catches her boyfriend’s gaze. “Whot?”

“Nothing.” Harry dismisses with a knowing smile before giving her a quick, loving kiss. “I just love you.”

“Yeh better.” She gives him a pointed look but it doesn’t last very by his contagious smirk.

It’s clear to see that as YN goes around to personally deliver the donuts, the cast and crew are just enamored by her kindness, her wit, and her generosity. She falls into easy conversation with the technical crew members who don’t seem to get enough recognition for their hard work. 

She instantly eases the aorua on set as people gather around to grab a pastry and laugh along to whatever YN was saying. The cast are already dressed in their wardrobe, robes over their vintage inspired outfits to avoid any spillage. 

“And then the chatty bloke turns around,” YN tells the little group that’s gathered (safely distanced from one another) around the foldable table, the cast and crew hanging off of her every word. “And it isn’t until then that he sees that I was standing right behind him the entire time!” 

Everyone bursts into laughter and chuckles at her story. Harry just has the biggest smile on his face at his stunning girlfriend. He loves the fact that she’s just being herself and it has everyone soaking up the golden light she’s illuminating. She has had experience being on a movie set, talking and entertaining a group, and just knew how to make everyone feel comfortable and that they belonged.

Even though it had nothing to do on his part, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride by having her here. Harry brings an arm around her waist and pulls her closer to his side.

“And that’s not even the best part because then he—”

“Hate to ruin the fun,” Olivia’s booming voice makes everyone turn their heads in her direction. “But we got a movie to finish up, correct?” She puts on a prissy smile like she didn’t just kill the fun vibe YN brought in. 

It honestly strains YN’s heart to visually see how everyone’s shoulders falter, like they were a bunch of children who’s parents told them to get back to cleaning their rooms. As the cast and crew disperses, they all give her a smile and word of gratitude as they pass her by.

Despite the circumstances of the director’s atmosphere towards the making of the film, YN has to admit how fascinated and proud she is of Harry. She always knew he had a nack for picking things up quickly, becoming a natural in every activity he takes on and there’s no way his ego will ever let him do something half-assed. It’s interesting to see how immersed he gets in his role, how he actually becomes Jack. 

She even almost finds herself reciting his acting partner’s lines from when she would rehearse them with him. 

In between takes, Harry can’t help himself from taking some sneaky glances over to his love standing on the side lines. She stood next to his PA for the film and quickly got along with the young girl, helping her hold Harry’s things and eyes bouncing around the outside of the 50s house set. 

YN even makes playful motion to focus back on his work in front of him only to receive a shake of his head, a smirk sitting comfortably on his face. And YN is well aware of the fact that Olivia’s eyes have been on them the entire time, she could practically burn holes at the sides of the couple’s head. But does that make the two stop their flirty, lovey antics? Hell no.

While they do a scene where Harry isn’t needed for the shot, he wastes no time coming up to her side.

“How’d I do?” He asks, knowing full well that YN doesn’t sugar coat her opinions if it can better benefit him. That’s one of the many reasons why he keeps inviting her back to make his albums.

“Very convincing. Yeh speaking yeh lines naturally. Quite sexy pulling up in that vitage car.” She says, handing him a mask which he quickly hooks over his ears.

“Yeah? Was a bit nervous. Gotta impress my girl, hmm?”

“Yeh always impress me. M’so proud of you.”

Harry slides his hand to hers and smiles when he feels her thumb caress a particular finger. 

"I like this on you." YN mumbles shyly, thumbing over his fake wedding ring, and if he wasn’t standing close to her as he is he would have missed it.

“Hmm, it’s gonna be a real one someday. Gonna get down on one knee, give yeh a beautiful ring and then we’ll have matching ones soon after. Gonna make you m’wife.” 

It used to scare YN when he would talk about their future with such confidence, like he was so sure that she was it for him. It’s not like the two have never talked about marriage either. After all the shit they’ve gone through with their shitty communication skills towards one another, constantly avoiding what they really wanted to say, they wonder why they ever wasted so much time swerving these conversations. It’s a pleasant change of pace to not feel like she was going to puke at how scary their future seemed but to now feel butterflies of excitement.

“Promise?” She blinks up at him with sincerity, wanting what he just claimed as much as he does.

“Quiet on set!” Olivia announces, indirecting targeting more towards the couple on the sidelines.

“I promise.” Harry brings their joined hands to his masked covered mouth and plants a kiss through the layers separating their skin.

Olivia tries to hide her scowl and focus on the scene playing out in front of the monitors as best she can. Yet she can’t stop the boiling jealously in her chest as she glances at the way Harry smiles lovingly down at YN, eyes twinkling in the way she craves he would give to her.

She angrily watches as he wraps an around his girlfriend, pulling her close to his side. He even pinches down his mask to press a soft kiss to her temple.

Taglist:

How can she ever compete with that?

Part 2 Here!

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach26022 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster

[mc-lukanette]

With the intense struggle that came with her double life, Marinette doesn't have time for a lot of people. She's virtually given up on spending time with her parents, accepted that she can only rarely finish her outings with the girls, and acknowledged to herself that anything she tries to go out and do on her own is doomed to be interrupted.

Perhaps that's why she takes a special comfort in Luka's phone calls whenever they get the chance.

Initially, when Luka left Paris with Jagged, Marinette hadn't known what to feel. It sounded like a good opportunity for him and they'd promised to call, but she worried that the boy she hoped to become best friends with would grow apart from her.

She's never been more happy to be wrong. If anything, they talk more frequently than they did before, Luka chatting about whatever shenanigans have gone on that day while she gives him updates about what's going on in Paris. Sometimes, the updates won’t even be much more than telling him that it stormed, yet she can sense Luka clinging to her every word like it’s profoundly interesting to him.

The calls aren't daily, but they're frequent enough to where she'll catch herself pouting when neither of them had the time to talk. Without really thinking about it, she finds herself texting him in such cases with a simple "good morning" or "good night" depending on the situation. He's away with Jagged, after all, and time zones were always a factor.

He never fails to text her back.

It's a stark contrast to her responsibility-filled life. There's no obligation, deadline, nor time that she needs to meet. They can talk for as long or as short as they want, and if there is an interruption, the talk can be put off for later. They've even gotten into the habit of texting each other to remember where they left off before hanging up, which acts more like something to look forward to rather than a reminder of a good conversation cut short.

It's nice.

Nevertheless, she has a city to save and roles to play, so she goes about her day with the knowledge that Luka will always listen, no matter how silly the conversation may be. No matter who calls first - him when Jagged has finally stopped prodding him for "father-son time" or her when she comes home and collapses in her chair - they're both listening.

It might be what makes it all the more bizarre when she wakes up one day and turns to her bulletin board of pictures, focusing mostly on those of the love of her life, only to feel an unpleasant pulsing in her temples in response. She rubs her head, wondering if she's having a headache or cold, yet the emotional high she normally gets from seeing that particular shade of blond is crippled.

At first, she passes it off as nothing, replacing the pictures with new ones with a dismissive thought that they've been there forever anyway.

It had only been a week.

Despite the brief exhaustion, she manages all of her other tasks at her usual efficiency. It's a free day from school, meaning homework, helping out in the bakery, and checking her phone in case she'd set it on vibrate on accident and missed the shake informing her that there's an akuma.

It just so happens that she ends up meeting her crush that day, which ends up being even weirder than when she'd tried to greet his pictures. There's a sense of awareness that isn't normally there for her, and the pressure in her temples makes it harder to engage with him.

She figures an apology will do nicely in the form of a gift, convinced that firing up her creativity will get her out of whatever weird funk she's in.

It's only once she has her sketchpad out, pencil in hand yet drawing nothing, that Marinette can recognize the feeling. Being a creative force as she is, it's all too familiar and yet she's never thought it possible for it to manifest in such a situation.

Burnout.

The word hits her like an anvil, her mind racing in desperation to explain what she's experiencing. It makes no sense for it to happen with a person - her crush, no less, the boy she wants to marry - yet she can't grasp onto anything else to answer her many questions.

In the midst of thoughts that she doesn't want to acknowledge, she does the only thing she can do: she calls Luka.

She knows he can tell there's something off the moment she greets him, but he doesn't prod. They ask about each other's day as she wanders around the room semi-aimlessly, purposefully avoiding walking in a direction that would put the sketchpad in her peripheral.

Even by the next morning, the feeling of burnout is still there. She takes the pictures down again, putting it all in the back of her mind and waiting for the feeling to pass.

It takes a week, though that old emotional high doesn't replace the burnout like she thinks it should. She waits longer, unable to help noticing that she has more time on her hands without the crush taking over her thoughts, and it's by the end of the month that she comes to terms with the fact that whatever she had is gone.

And whatever it is was never love in the first place.

The irony isn't lost on her. Despite being in closer contact with her crush (the word feels strange to her now) than ever before, she lost the feelings she thought she had, and despite Luka being an ocean away at the time, they'd never been closer than they are now.

Things are slow for a while afterwards. Marinette makes use of her new free time to finish old projects, marking them off of lists. Even if she forgets something, Luka ends up being her reminder, not because she'd asked him to but because she'd unconsciously brought up whatever it was in conversation.

Without thinking about the choice of everything or nothing, she simply tells him everything.

Her life is still difficult - certainly more than the average Parisian - but it's manageable. She can't tell if it's Luka, the new bits of spare time in her days, or maybe a mix of things, but she's thankful nonetheless. She feels more perceptive, taking back even a tiny amount of control in her life, and she feels a little foolish for feeling powerful over such a thing but she also refuses to let go of the grasp she has on such happiness.

That said, there are inevitably moments where she and Luka miss each other's calls. Not only are timezones a cruel thing, but their schedules didn't always line up. She laments pulling out her phone and finding that she got a missed call, ensuring that she doesn't remove the notification until she has time to call him back.

It takes perhaps too long for her to realize that Luka has never called her when there's an akuma active in the city. She doesn't want to assume - that's never gotten her anywhere good - but she does let herself wonder, and the thought lingers in her mind for the next few days.

Luka told her himself that he didn't want to be a rockstar, and she felt like that implied that he wouldn't want to travel the world like his father did. However, if he knew, then he would have a reason for leaving beyond his own desires.

She also knows without him saying so that he misses being in Paris. She can tell that his mother and sister miss him just as she does. She wonders if he's lonely, or perhaps exhausted from having Jagged and Penny as the only people he knows personally who he can physically interact with.

Marinette can't imagine it herself. She'd experienced loneliness before, even when surrounded by people she called her friends, and to subject oneself to that for the sake of someone else is beyond her understanding.

No. That isn't entirely accurate. It's not about him doing it for someone else, or even for the entirety of Paris.

It's about him doing it for her, and not just for her but doing it secretly. He could've just told her what he'd planned and it probably would've been easier than keeping it all inside. She knows the pain of keeping secrets for the sake of not burdening someone else, and she wouldn't wish it on anyone.

But that's how Luka is, she realizes. Luka didn't make grand gestures or bombard her with gifts or things she didn't ask for. He did things simply for the sake of others, not for how he'd look to them in the end. Knowing that, Marinette could envision his thought process of not wanting to guilt her or make her feel like she owed him affection as thanks.

He's a blanket being placed silently over a sleeping form, a warm breakfast being prepared with the knowledge of having to leave before seeing the reaction to it, and an anonymous letter placed carefully on the doorstep with the simple message: You matter.

Marinette clutches her chest at the thought. Luka is far away, meaning he can't hold her shoulder, take her hand in his own, or wrap her in a comforting hug.

Yet she feels his warmth anyway, as if he'd intentionally left it with her.

It's the very next day where they're talking idly on the phone, Marinette finding it hard to mark a stopping point in their conversation. Luka is growing tired, she's certain, but their current topic has stretched on without a foreseeable end in sight.

Despite her hazy memory, the one thing she's never failed to forget is the amount of hours between them, even as Luka and Jagged move from place to place. That's how she knows that it must be late, and she's keeping Luka past when he would usually go to bed.

Luka being Luka, he wants her to finish what she's talking about first, so he stays up anyway. Given that they hadn't been interrupted yet by the universe deciding to ruin her day, she supposes that it must seem like a shame to him to waste the opportunity.

She can hear the sleepiness in his voice while he insists that he wants to hear the rest of what she has to say. His verbal responses grow softer, more inaudible, and his words later become sounds or hums just to assure that he was still listening.

When she calls out his name once more to scold him for refusing to sleep, she doesn't receive a reply. She supposes that she might've called out too softly - knowing he was sleepy inherently makes her want to whisper - but she can also imagine him sound asleep, his hand resting on whatever surface while his phone only stays in his palm due to gravity rather than actually being held.

She smiles to herself, hoping that he's well, and raises the phone directly in front of her face to stare at his contact image.

"Goodnight, Luka," she murmurs, her cheeks turning a gentle shade of pink. "I love you."

[edenmemes]

ghost of tsushima starters

❝ promise you’ll remain the good man i know. ❞   ❝ only fools have no fear of death. ❞   ❝ i am very much alive. but my patience is dying. ❞   ❝ i’ll make sure you are remembered. as a great warrior...a wise leader. ❞   ❝ the strength we need is all around us. ❞   ❝ the past cannot hurt you. ❞   ❝ this whole journey, and i never asked your name. ❞   ❝ fear drives you to be stronger. fight harder. ❞ ❝ sometimes...our only choice is to walk away from everything we know ❞ ❝ we do what we must. that is why you and i are both survivors. ❞ ❝ i can do good! i just...need practice. ❞ ❝ may your next life be more peaceful than this one. ❞ ❝ i knew it was too good to be true. ❞ ❝ i'll see what i can do. but if you’re lying to me... ❞ ❝ you’re too comfortable with that power. ❞ ❝ don’t ever try to kill me again. ❞ ❝ turn your back on a foe...and you will die with a sword stuck in it. ❞ ❝ youre not slipping away that easily. ❞ ❝ just stay closed. keep your sword sheathed. and let me do the talking. ❞ ❝ the things i saw still haunt my nightmares. ❞ ❝ i dont even know if you're real. ❞ ❝ victories don’t have to feel good. ❞   ❝ killing your own family...it’s harder than you could ever imagine. ❞   ❝ it’s safer for everyone if i just disappear. ❞   ❝ next time, leave some glory for the rest of us. ❞   ❝ peace doesn’t always come quietly. ❞   ❝ some people respond to kindness. others require a glimpse of steel. ❞ ❝ i am nothing if not honest. ❞ ❝ stop using people, and start thinking about how you can help them. ❞ ❝ you’ve had your vengeance. don’t stand in the way of mine. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do it alone. ❞ ❝ not all words need to be spoken. ❞   ❝ there is time yet for revenge. i will savour their cries of pain when that time comes. ❞ ❝ i have learned to love the cool, damp dark. ❞ ❝ the last thing i saw was faces filled with hatred, rage... ❞ ❝ you didn’t think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you? ❞ ❝ we will celebrate when this is all over. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong with you? one moment we stand shoulder-to-shoulder, the next you’re ready to cross blades. ❞ ❝ a warrior learns from their mistakes, or they are buried by them. ❞ ❝ remember your training...and never leave my side. ❞ ❝ well...i guess this is goodbye. ❞ ❝ your visions will grow worse, driving you to madness and death. ❞ ❝ i can only pretend for so much longer. i’m not like these people and never will be. ❞ ❝ i loved you all my life, but i could never work up the courage to tell you. ❞ ❝ the proud do not last, and the mightiest of us perish like dust before the wind. ❞ ❝ you’re a vision of mercy. ❞ ❝ not bad, but only half-good. ❞ ❝ we make a good team, don’t we? ❞ ❝ an archer’s aim relies not on eyes...but on body, mind, and spirit. ❞ ❝ this is my fight. i don’t need your weapon. ❞ ❝ being right doesn’t always make things better. ❞ ❝ there is nothing easier than to prey upon the vanity of ambitious men. ❞ ❝ you weren’t looking so good. i let you rest. ❞ ❝ your intentions this time were...better than usual. ❞ ❝ what are you not telling me? ❞ ❝ trouble sticks to you like shit on rice. ❞ ❝ it’s strange being back after so many years...everywhere i look brings back memories. ❞ ❝ only a child expects perfection of their elders. ❞ ❝ when this is all over, what will you do? ❞ ❝ you are ruled by your emotion. ❞ ❝ is this how you want to be remembered? ❞ ❝ perhaps great men share all the aspects of their lessers, but more. great wisdom, but even greater cruelty. ❞ ❝ i cannot imagine the burden a leader like you must bear. ❞ ❝ our greatest enemies are the greatest teachers. ❞ ❝ death’s shadow embraces me. hand in hand we walk. ❞ ❝ breathe. you can’t fight if you hold your breath. ❞ ❝ i know you well enough by now, my friend. ❞ ❝ i can’t go back...to what i was. before this. ❞ ❝ i hope you one day forgive me for the choice i made. ❞ ❝ the wounds you dealt my spirit will never heal. ❞ ❝ why did you turn away from me? ❞ ❝ if you can keep moving forward, so can i. ❞ ❝ it’s a bad idea to sneak up on me. ❞ ❝ promise me something. don’t become like me. ❞ ❝ let me undo the damage i’ve done. ❞ ❝ ...and you want me to clean up your mess. ❞ ❝ the path ahead may take a lifetime, but i will walk it with you. always. ❞ ❝ whatever you believe i’ve become, i will always be your family. ❞ ❝ i wouldn’t be here without you. ❞ ❝ i’ll hunt you past the horizon if i must. ❞ ❝ can i count on you to do what needs to be done? ❞ ❝ that’s over now. you’re here. with me. ❞ ❝ i thought i’d lost you, i should’ve known you’d never give up. ❞ ❝ you can’t continue down this path. ❞ ❝ be careful. demons are everywhere and they fear nothing. ❞ ❝ corpses can’t answer questions. ❞ ❝ you deserve greater respect than this. ❞ ❝ it’s just like the stories my father told me. ❞ ❝ what you become tomorrow is your choice. ❞ ❝ just ask the last man who questioned my sincerity. you’ll find his head covered in flies out back. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t have lied. i still would have helped you. ❞ ❝ we came this far. we’re not turning back now. ❞ ❝ how do we survive if we don’t trust each other? ❞ ❝ without my help, the fear and pain will overwhelm you. ❞ ❝ whatever happens, we don’t retreat. ❞ ❝ the stories are true. i’ve never seen anyone fight like you. ❞ ❝ see how the enemy fear you? you are a true warrior. ❞ ❝ you want to share a drink...with me? ❞ ❝ maybe you should’ve just ran away. like you always do. ❞ ❝ good people have nothing to fear from me. ❞ ❝ your promises are just like you. worthless. ❞ ❝ as you wish, since you asked so sweetly. ❞ ❝ i know better than to argue. ❞ ❝ i hope i can find quiet places like this one, untouched by war. ❞ ❝ we grew up together, but you threw it all away. ❞ ❝ it was so chaotic. i felt you grip my wrist and then nothing. ❞ ❝ desperation can bring out the demon in the best of men. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to leave without you, but...i can’t stay. i hope you understand. ❞ ❝ a grown man, and you still can barely sit still. ❞ ❝ and i heard you had no sense of humor! ❞ ❝ knowing and doing are different. ❞ ❝ trouble follows me everywhere. ❞ ❝ indulging violence weakens the warrior...like too much food or drink. ❞ ❝ i can always tell when you want to ask me something. out with it. ❞ ❝ i am proud to fight beside you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t nurse you back to health to watch you throw your life away. ❞ ❝ all i want...all i need is to start a new life. ❞ ❝ look twice and shoot once. ❞ ❝ i think they’re afraid of you. you can be...intimidating.. ❞ ❝ you don’t even try to hear me. it’s like talking to a stone. ❞ ❝ so you try to kill me? have you lost your mind? ❞ ❝ you’ve sacrificed everything. for revenge. ❞ ❝ we can’t let anger consume us. or blind us to our friends. ❞ ❝ there is only one way this ends. ❞ ❝ i gave you everything. and you threw it away. ❞ ❝ do not question my integrity again. ❞ ❝ your father would be proud. ❞ ❝ the worst one can do is take advantage of their own people. ❞ ❝ you follow trouble. you should ask yourself why.  ❞ ❝ some of my favourite memories happened at this place. ❞ ❝ i told you this was a bad idea! ❞ ❝ keep fighting. we need people like you. ❞ ❝ are you the one who finally kills me? ❞ ❝ a warrior’s most important weapon is themself. lose control, and you risk defeat. ❞ ❝ first, get some rest. this is killing you. ❞ ❝ see that? i told you. there’s always hope. ❞ ❝ i hope the skills i gained through hardship can be of use to the people here. ❞ ❝ you have skill...but you nearly died rushing into battle. ❞ ❝ in the midst of battle, true leaders must stay rooted, stand firm. ❞ ❝ every time i get in a mess like this, i’m as scared as the time before. ❞ ❝ don’t be the next to disappoint me. ❞ ❝ save what we can, but know that everything passes away. ❞ ❝ i hope you understand, this is just a job. ❞ ❝ that’s a sad way to look at the world. ❞ ❝ seeing you like that...i’m still shaken up. ❞ ❝ sit with me a moment. ❞ ❝ doubt and indecision have destroyed armies. ❞ ❝ it’s so painful to...see you weighed down by sadness. ❞ ❝ on the slim chance some good comes of this...lead the way. ❞ ❝ you fought well, but we’re finished. ❞ ❝ the warrior’s mind is quiet but alive, like rustling bamboo. ❞ ❝ i’ve trained with a blade since i could walk. ❞ ❝ the visions...they’re still happening. ❞ ❝ in our world, being intimidating isn’t a bad thing. ❞ ❝ you have a talent. it’s time you use it, for the sake of our land. ❞ ❝ i've tried to teach you all i know...but you act more like a poet than a warrior. ❞ ❝ your path leads to madness and death. ❞ ❝ that’s twice you saved my life. ❞ ❝ these people stay because they believe in you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t choose this life. it was my only option. ❞ ❝ you came at me like i was your mortal enemy. almost broke my arm! ❞ ❝ i could use your help...in the fight ahead. ❞ ❝ you can be a little rough, but you have a good heart. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to kill you, stop! ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? afraid i’ll get more famous than you? ❞ ❝ war brings out who we truly are. ❞ ❝ take care where you place your faith. ❞ ❝ you seem lost in thought. ❞ ❝ i was getting tired of waiting for you. ❞ ❝ without my wisdom, you will lose your soul to madness. ❞ ❝ peace is an unattainable dream...but a dream worth fighting for. ❞ ❝ i’ve killed a thousand men. every death was sweet. ❞ ❝ what is the point of prayer when we are doomed? ❞ ❝ you’re like your father in more ways than you know. ❞ ❝ if you want my respect, earn it. ❞ ❝ and how many wars have you fought? ❞ ❝ you’re quite the butcher with that sword. ❞ ❝ people who sow chaos must be punished. ❞ ❝ i can’t help but wonder if you enjoy the violence. ❞ ❝ i kill only to protect our people. i think about that every time i reach for my sword. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry if my lack of skill offends. ❞ ❝ it’s the first time in days i haven’t felt like i was about to die. ❞ ❝ you fought like an animal...or a demon! ❞ ❝ there’s nothing more painful to me than a perfect bow...ineptly used. ❞ ❝ victory is won by warriors, not weapons. ❞ ❝ i couldn’t leave you to die. ❞ ❝ i made my choices. even knowing what they’ve cost me, i’d make them again. ❞ ❝ when’s the last time you slept or ate? ❞ ❝ you don’t get to give up. this land needs you. ❞ ❝ oh you pretend we are different, but we fight for the same thing. ❞ ❝ there are still places of beauty to remind us of what truly matters. ❞ ❝ true mastery begins where individual ego ends. ❞ ❝ a warrior faces danger with courage and resolve. this is how they endure. ❞ ❝ those stories...they're not entirely true. ❞ ❝ even the youngest warrior needs a full belly and a rested sword-arm. ❞ ❝ bad men are good at hiding their true natures. ❞ ❝ there is nothing left for me here. my hope is lost. ❞ ❝ i did what i had to. for you. ❞ ❝ forgive my manners. i spent all my time alone. ❞ ❝ is that any way to greet a visitor? ❞ ❝ if you continue down this path...you’ll be no better than the enemy. ❞ ❝ i am grateful for the times we share...but, i always want more. ❞ ❝ you lived your life in a castle. it made you soft. ❞ ❝ i used to know what i fought for... ❞ ❝ face them as a warrior with honour. not a monster. ❞ ❝ i don’t take lives, but i am not a coward. ❞ ❝ i wonder if i’ve crossed a line. ❞ ❝ you can’t expect everyone to understand what you’re doing, or why. ❞ ❝ your methods were brutal...impulsive...without honour. ❞ ❝ there’s plenty to fear without worrying about folktales. ❞ ❝ i hope you’ll find peace again soon. ❞ ❝ you do what you need to survive. and yet you despise others for doing the same. ❞ ❝ is that your excuse? your reason to kill? ❞ ❝ we have to keep pushing. even if it costs us our lives. ❞ ❝ cowards without honour deserve no mercy. ❞ ❝ i’ll fight beside you until the end. ❞ ❝ whatever happens, your forgiveness won’t change who i am. ❞ ❝ why should we settle for scraps when we deserve to be legends? ❞ ❝ only cowards strike from the shadows. ❞ ❝ the proud do not endure. the greatest of us fall in the end. ❞ ❝ perhaps some good will come of this. ❞   ❝ you will see nothing but death to the end of your days. ❞ ❝ legacy is more than a name. ❞ ❝ im sorry. i know what it means to lose family. ❞ ❝ one day we'll escape the endless wheel of suffering. ❞ ❝ is that a 'thank you'? ❞ ❝ i know what it means to be hunted. ❞ ❝ you personify fury and regret. ❞ ❝ that's all right. i want to hear you dig your own grave. ❞ ❝ either way, we’ve got nothing to lose. ❞ ❝ i’ve done what i can. the rest is up to you. ❞ ❝ forgive me, but you look fatigued. have you endured much hardship? ❞    ❝ i hope you find true honour in your next life. ❞ ❝ you deserve nothing less than death. ❞ ❝ this is foolish. surrender, and you can live. ❞ ❝ i too have pride in family. and i know what it’s like to live in their shadow. ❞ ❝ you were gone so long, i knew you were in trouble. ❞ ❝ so many of us here owe you our lives. ❞ ❝ what's wrong? what did they do to you? ❞   ❝ you’re lucky to be alive. ❞ ❝ i know your language. your traditions. your beliefs. which village to tame and which to burn. ❞   ❝ i cannot lose you again. ❞   ❝ i don’t seek revenge. but i will fight for peace. ❞   ❝ we will meet again soon. until then...travel safely. ❞   ❝ this is war --- not a test. ❞ ❝ we can save our home together. it doesn’t have to be like this. ❞ ❝ fear is a weapon. don’t let them use it against you. ❞

[lostinanothersmemories]

No good deed

tw: brief blood, attempted harassment, self hating thoughts (cause when will i ever write a darin who loves themself)

\/\/\/\/\/\/

It didn’t matter what they thought, they didn’t need their own belief to validate the fact. They knew.

From a child they knew, overhearing adults unnerved by them ensuring each other “Kid’s gonna grow up and end up hurting someone I just know it, gonna hit national news when they end up in prison.” They didn’t know why then.

From a teen they knew, it just wasn’t adults this time. “No I’m telling you they gotta be some new demon or something? Oooh a half breed, David look at those eyes and tell me they’re a normal person.” It didn’t hurt.

They always claimed it never hurt, that pit they’d throw other peoples words into kept filling up though. despite their claim that it never hurt.

Normal people, good people didn’t look like them, didn’t act like them. Good people didn’t think like them.

Didn’t memorize ways to hurt others through every method they could find. Normal people wouldn’t seek ways to hurt people. Wouldn’t subtly poke and prod at people until they snapped first. They were too young when they first got into a fight when they got up from it blood dripping from their nose and a crooked smile.

They weren’t good like the people they had somehow managed to gather around them. They all didn’t know the places they’d call fun places where knocked loose teeth would never be invesitgated.

So imagine the surprise when a trip to a less than stellar empowered club wields the pleasure of containing an ‘angel.’ Their entire body freezes seeing them in the crowd going into a panic to try and find their wolf counterpart, only to find their alpha nowhere in sight. There’s no supernatural hearing in the world that could tell them what they are saying to those around them, but it’s their shoulders. Shoulders tense pulled up as if to hide the human from those surrounding them. And with one touch to their arm pulling them the wolf is pushing through the crowd, a low growl splitting the room enough they barely have to shove anyone out of the way.

Angel immediately finds their smile when spotting them but it falters when Tank’s pocket knife stabs into the intruders arm making him recoil with a scream, expletives yelled as if it’ll deter them now.

Noticing how the room freezes Angel immediately starts pulling at their arm trying to go for the door, they both get a few steps away before one of the meatheads friends pushes closer promising some kind of revenge.

Angels’ grip slips when the wolf kicks him square in the chest shoving him back into his friends hopefully with a bruise to remember them. They’re calling their name now, telling them to leave already so they don’t have to fight. Angel doesn’t realize their pounding heart rate is exhilaration. That when another breaks through the wall of people they’ve already hurt there’s nothing but excitement in their system.

When their numbers finally run out it’s the shifter left standing, shedding not much more than a few drops of blood.

But it’s not just Angel dragging them out of the club now. When they bother to look they notice Milo’s more reasonable Stealth who’s taken their hand as well as Angels’.

“Christ, are you both okay?” Tank can sense their worry even in human form, they should leave, they would leave but Angel is hanging onto them like they’ll fall over without anything to hold them up. Managing to unlatch their arms and coax them into sitting on the curb, without a word they walk back into the club, coming back out with a glass of water.

Angel’s on the phone being comforted by their mate, the Stealth sitting beside them rubbing their back. When Angel hands over the phone Tank gets the full story. “-I had just stepped out I got a call about a case, I thought it’d be fine no one had even seemed off. I’m so sorry I should have brought them out with me. —No you’re right I couldn’t have known. I’m just glad Tank was here.”

They aren’t the only one who freezes, they can feel him pause through the phone. They should leave, especially before their alpha gets here sees their hands caked in blood. They must have missed him talking again because the stealth has turned calling to them, “—David wants to talk to you.”

They feel more scared than Angel looked being hounded on by a bunch of entitled empowered douchebags. They move fast enough grabbing the phone that neither of them can tell their hands are shaking. Walking away from the pair to get their lesson private at least. “I’m sorry alright? Can I skip the lesson if I apologize first? Do some community service? Want me to pick up trash on the side of the highway for a few hours?”

“I wanted to thank you actually, but if you want a lecture I can manage to find something.”

“Well save both just come get your mate so I can stop babysitting.” It’s rude and brash and slightly offensive how they say it but David just sighs.

“I’ll be there soon.” The phone clicks and gets put back in Angel’s hands. Before a conversation can strike up they lean back against the wall of the club keeping an ear out. When the car pulls up and parks by the road Angel basically jumps into his arms, he only pulls away to check if they were hurt at all. Next up on his route is the stealth, they both talk quietly too quietly for Tank to hear. Angel’s already picked out their favorite radio station to listen to cracking the windows to wait.

They turn away and start walking, it’s the opposite direction they need to go but the other way crosses David and ups their chance of being stopped. “Tank.” But it seems useless for somehow their supposedly not talkative to not talk to them.

They don’t turn back around but he goes over to them anyways. “You should see a healer,”

“It’s not even a cat scratch, I’m not that fragile.”

“Would you quit being so stubborn for one second.” Their gasp is audible when he pulls them into a hug. “Am I a bit frustrated you kept the fight going? Of course, I don’t want you in more danger than necessary. But I’d be an idiot to think I wouldn’t want to bury anyone that tried to hurt them so, thank you.”

It’s enough to make the uncomfortableness of the hug into unbearable their hand pushing his chest back to give some space, words ready to tumble about how it wasn’t for his mate, how they don’t care about them or him or anyone. How they just wanted to see someones blood on their knuckles wanted to put someone down. “I-” How they’re a monster who can only hurt people, how they’re evil how no one good should be around them, how they’ll drag everyone down with them.

Their voice breaks, repeating a single “I-.” over and over again.

“You’re a good pack member, you’re good family. Now come on, I’ll drive you home.” They don’t react when he leads them to the back seat, not when Angel asks if they have enough room. Only when he pulls into his own driveway do they start to explain how this isn’t their home. Only to have David tell them they shouldn’t be alone.

It’s Angel who was nearly attacked, but just ten minutes later when David brings them a glass of water it’s Tank sobbing on the couch being comforted by both of them. They don’t deserve it, but good people believe they do. So maybe they can accept it this once.

[nojey]

fans

dream x streamer!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 2.4k

warning(s): cursing, failed relationship, throwing things out of anger

synopsis: (y/n) and dream met through a mutual friend and their own friendship begins to blossom on its own. they start talking more and more and the feelings they have for one another grows so much more than either of them imagined. but as they stream together, they realize how much hate they’ve started to get and rethink whether or not they should be together or not.

looking back on it, meeting dream was one of the best days of your life. that day, your friend, sapnap, had introduced you to one of his friends and from that day forward, a beautiful relationship bloomed. not a single one of either of your viewers knew you two had become friends and it was nice; keeping something to yourself from a whole community that knew almost everything about you. you both went from talking every once in a while, to every week, to every other day, to almost all day, everyday. you grew to know pretty much everything about each other, where he grew up, how his childhood was like, everything from his favorite color to what he feared the most. and as you got to know him more, your feelings for him just grew so much more than you had ever imagined. and you hoped he felt the same way about you.

when he asked you if you wanted to facetime, you were shocked. you guys were only ever either in a discord call, regular call, or texting. granted it had been about 7 months since you both became friends, but you didn’t need to know what he looks like. you like him for the person he is, how caring and attentive he is to his friends, how witty his personality is and how cocky and confident he is. you like him for the passion he has in his heart for the people and things he loves. you never had to see his face to know these things about him. but because you knew this was a big step in your friendship, you accepted. him even asking you to facetime meant so much to you. 

he called you with his phone facing the ceiling and you had propped up yours so your upper body was on full display. “clay, you know you don’t have to show me your face? if you’re not ready to, you don’t have to.” you told him. “i’m more than ready to show you what i look like, (y/n). you’re an important person in my life and i want to show you.” he replied. “okay.. if you’re really sure. i just hope you know that whatever you look like, it will not change my opinion of you.” you assured him. “i know, (y/n).” he chuckled. “which is how i know i’m ready to show you.” you smiled. your heart warmed knowing that he trusts you this much. “whenever you’re ready, clay.” you said. “close your eyes,” he said. you did what he asked of you and you heard shuffling. he let out a breath, grabbed his phone and propped it up so you could see his face. 

“you can open your eyes now.” he said. you slowly opened your eyes and your breath got caught in your throat as you fully saw him. “wow..” you whispered, still examining his face. “you’re really pretty, clay.” he started blushing and said, “stop staring, you’re just going to fall in love with me.” laughing a bit. you started blushing too and looked away. both your reasons for blushing may have been different, but you knew you were blushing because what he said was true. 

for the rest of the night you both stayed up until 3am talking about anything and everything, getting to know each other more than you already did.

the day you both streamed together was about 4 months later. the internet went crazy. your viewers and his had absolutely no idea you two had known each other but they saw the way you two talked to each other; they knew you sounded like you were talking to your soulmate. you didn’t have to watch what you said, you laughed out to your hearts content, you both teased each other in such a flirtatious manner that it didn’t take them long to start thinking you guys were in a relationship. 

but with the people who supported you, there were twice as many people who hated the idea of you two together. at first it was bearable, neither of you cared about the hate because you were happy with where you both were with each other. clay was confident that you felt the same way about him that he had for you. he fell in love with you and you knew you had fallen in love with him too. 

a few weeks after your first stream together, he asked you if you wanted to fly to florida to meet him in person and you immediately said yes. you started packing your bags and by next week, you were on your way to meet the guy of your dreams. 

when you landed, he was already there waiting for you and when you got to baggage claim you saw him and immediately recognized him. you ran up to him and gave him the tightest hug ever; you were finally in his arms. the height difference was evident and he had to lean down a bit to hug you but he felt so content with you being there, in his arms. 

“you’re really here..” he whispered. “i’m here, clay. i’m here.” you assured. tears started slowly falling down your face and you buried your face deeper into his chest, taking in the warmth that was filling you. clay started crying too, thinking how lucky he was to be able to hold you close to him.

the day after you flew in was the one year mark of you two becoming friends so you went out to celebrate. throughout the day you guys reminisced back to the nights you both stayed up till the sun rose just talking and created new memories as you adventured through orlando. when it was around 3pm clay drove you to the beach to witness the sunset and you arrived just when the sun was kissing the water. you looked around the beach and saw no one but a beautiful set up with roses on the sand. you looked at clay with a surprised expression, he smiled, took your hand and lead you to where the roses laid. he brought you to stand in the middle of it and took both your hands in his,

“(y/n), when sapnap introduced us i never knew you would be such an important person in my life and i couldn’t be more grateful for you. you have helped me through my darkest times, celebrated with me in my happiest, been patient with me when i was being insufferable, stood by me during the most boring days and acted like you were having a blast when it was only just us talking. you’ve shown me that i can let myself be who i am without caring what any other person had to say about me. there’s so many words that i can’t put together right now because that’s how you make me feel. you make me feel so nervous when i’m around you and all the words in my head just get mixed up and i never know what to say. but i do know that right now, i’m trying to ask you on a date. so (y/n), will you go on a date with me?” by the time he was done with his speech you were close to tears. “of course i’ll go on a date with you clay.”

the night of your date had been the most magical night of your life. in the day you both went to disneyworld and at night he brought you to a hill top to, once again, watch the sunset while you both ate dinner on the hood of the rental car he got. everything was so perfect, it was the best date you’ve ever went on. 

he was an absolute gentleman, not letting you pay for your things, opening the door for you, pulling you closer to him when someone got too close to you, treating you like you were a princess and you couldn’t have asked for a better guy to be with. 

after you both finished your dinner you just laid down on the hood of the car and stared at the stars, talking about a future you wish had come true. that night you shared a kiss that would be remembered through the horrid months to come.

the day you left orlando, you didn’t think it would be the last time you ever saw clay in person. when you got home you talked like normal, already speaking about a second date the next time either you or he visited. you both missed each other like crazy and you believed you would see each other very soon.

you streamed together more often and no one was blind to the smitten words you both shared, to the adoration dripping in your voices. so many people hated it and you never understood why, was it because they thought you weren’t good enough for him? because they were so protective over him? did they just hate you? so many questions filled your mind when your phone ringing brought you out of it. you reached for your phone and saw that clay wanted to facetime. you answered with a smile on your face, “hi clay!” but it soon dropped when you saw the solemn look that fell upon his. “is everything okay?” you asked. he sighed and said, “we need to talk.”

and everything fell apart.

the next words that came out of his mouth broke your heart. “i don’t think we should continue dating, or maybe even being friends.” you could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked around your room, trying to understand why this would come up all the sudden. “what do you mean?” you asked, slightly laughing hoping he was playing some sick joke on you. but when you kept looking at his serious face, you understood he wasn’t and your tears finally fell. he looked at you and his eyes glossed over. 

it hurt him knowing he was hurting you; the most important person in his life, the person he believed he would get married to and grow old with, the person he stayed up, losing sleep for just to get to know because you were worth that and a million more. 

“i know you see all the hate we’re getting. and that’s only us streaming together. what happens when they find out we went on a date or if we do start dating, what would the fans say?” he said, no longer looking at you through his screen. “why do you care about what they’ll say about us?” you whispered. “look at me, please.” he slowly looked back at the screen to see your face full of tears and that’s what finally broke him.

“our fans. they hate seeing us together, we can’t disappoint them. we can’t dissatisfy them. i know your fans mean the world to you and mine mean the world to me too.” he said, wiping his tears away, wishing he could just wipe yours, kiss your cheek and tell you everything would be okay. “but we can make it work, we won’t stream together as much or at all anymore. we can be like how we were before they knew we were friends! we can make it work clay..” you said. he started getting frustrated, just wanting this to be over with so he didn’t have to see you so hurt anymore.

“i can’t keep going on with my fans hating the relationship i’m in (y/n)! i can’t keep seeing my fans hate you because of me! i can’t keep making my fans mad at me because i have a stupid little crush on you!” he raised his voice. the last sentence hurting you more than anything. and he saw that in your facial expression, immediately regretting it. 

“no, (y/n). i- i didn’t mean it like tha-” you cut him off. “a stupid little crush? is that all i was to you clay? a stupid little crush? so what, that whole year we spent getting to know each other was you just having a stupid little crush on me? you asking me to fly to forida to meet you, was that you just having a stupid little crush on me? me actually flying all the way to florida to meet you, did you think i just had a stupid little crush on you? did you think me saying yes to going on a date with you was me just having a stupid little crush? what, did that date mean nothing to you? did that kiss mean nothing? did you not mean anything you said to me the night you asked me on that date? because i meant every single thing i said to you clay. you’ve impacted my life so much in such a good way, but i guess you didn’t feel the same way. was i just a joke? just someone to play with while you were bored?” you asked, not wanting to believe what he was saying. 

“no, that’s not what i meant.” he sighed. “then why can’t we work things out!? i don’t understand, clay. if you really did mean everything you told me on that beach then why aren’t you trying harder for us?” you asked, disappointment dripping through your voice. “because i just don’t think we’d work out okay!” he yelled at you. neither of you spoke, just looking at each other. he saw the nasty glare and look of hurt wash over your face. “that’s all you needed to tell me.” you whispered. 

you hung up and as soon as the call was disconnected you sobbed. you cried your eyes out. the guy you were in love with made you believe he wasn’t in love with you. you were absolutely devastated and you didn’t know if you’d ever be as happy as you were with him.

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in florida, sat a man with his phone clutched in his hands, tears streaming down his face that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon. he whispered, “what have i done?” he screamed, he threw things, broke picture frames, punched the wall. but doing all those things would never bring you back to him.

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(y/n): hey everyone! i think i’m going to take a break from streaming and all social media for a few months. i don’t really want to go into detail right now but maybe if i come back i’ll explain everything. until then i hope all of you stay healthy and hopefully i come back eventually, i love you all :]

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authors note:

you guys!! there will be a part 2, send me an inbox or a message if you want to be on the tag list !!