#pls ignore my bad anatomy thanks

[love-belle]

looked for stars and i found a supernova !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which it takes a random song drop and a feature from a university student for their relationship to come to light.

or

for when it became true, opposites do attract. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!sargeant!reader

warnings - language

author's note - i am SO sorry i have no explanation for not posting except for the fact that i am now unemployed (i finished hs and don't start college till like august) and i just do Nothing the entire day. i love u all thank u for sticking around <3

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe and 729,816 others

yourusername boys are SO stupid and it's so endearing and frustrating like u r such a DUMBASS pls let me kiss u on the lips (i did ❤️)

8,628 comments

username hahahah!!! funny joke babe!!! kids and i and our goat miss u ❤️

username and like just that my bisexual ass cried tears (i never had a chance)

-> username she's for the girlies every man back OFFFFFF

username going insane over this

username i know logan is in shambles rn like that brother is distraught

-> yourusername he hasn't stopped calling me i had to block his number

-> logansargeant UNBLOCK my number i am your BLOOD

-> yourusername fuck off i will call mom

-> logansargeant have you ever known sanity in your life

-> yourusername have you ever felt loved

-> yourusername sorry can u please tell mom to stop yelling at me it's scary ok

-> username she did NOT need to do him like that

-> username oh that was FOUL

username she's so pretty i simply cannot believe a man can rizz her up

username do we ignore y/n violating her brother like that orrrrr

-> username u are an only child it seems

-> logansargeant it's just that she's mean

-> yourusername go and drown in a pond since u wanna act like a silly goose

username why is charles in the likes he don't even follow her

-> username i have the most funniest and silliest theory and im afraid saying it out loud will send logan into early retirement

alex_albon evil laugh

-> yourusername i pay u ENOUGH. any more and i will have to involve my lawyer WHAT DO U WANT

-> alex_albon ferrari has exceptional pasta

-> yourusername ahahahhajaha what's that got to do with me u little clusterfuck of a twink

-> alex_albon oh! absolutely nothing!

-> username i am screaming what the fuck

-> username "little clusterfuck of a twink" OH MY GOD

username crazy how everything she says is so real idk if that's the fan in me or i am just way too fucking down bad for her

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username love love LOVE see this rep bc my man is such an idiot but it's ok cus he's my princess

-> yourusername YOU GET IT !!!!! he's my princess <3

logansargeant what are you doing

-> yourusername tryna slut him out n then build a lego set w him

-> logansargeant i always knew you would be the one to bring generational shame to our family what is this behaviour

logansargeant what happened to "if i ever talk to a man again i want you to be disappointed in me" ?

-> yourusername u were disappointed in me nonetheless fym

-> logansargeant i

-> maxverstappen1 i can tell we would be great friends yourusername

-> logansargeant no way

logansargeant what happened to BIOLOGY you were supposed to be STUDYING

-> yourusername i did study

-> yourusername his anatomy

-> alex_albon logan just deleted this app i hope you're happy

-> username Y/N PLEASE HESITATE

-> username CRYINF SHE'S SO UNHINGED

username the way i can feel logan's mortification through the screen 😭😭

username when will it be me

username love to see women in stem (seducing the enigmatic men) idk im proud of her i know she was crying abt not finding the love she read bout

-> yourusername this might be my favourite comment ever i adore u

username prophecy be looking a bit too permanent 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 who's gonna change it 🤣🤣🤣 i am on my KNEES 🤣🤣🤣🤣

username everyday i learn something new about y/n and everyday i praise the lord that i can exist at the same time as her

*liked by charles_leclerc*

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 2,629,916 others

charles_leclerc you're in her dms, i wrote a song for her in under a day when we weren't even dating. we are not the same.

12,628 comments

username CRYING WHAT THE FUCK

username oh my god is this real

username CRYING THE SONG IS TOO GOOD

username HIS VLOCE JIS VOICE HIS VLICE HIS VOICE

username going crazy rn what the fuck

username HELLO?????? WHAT IS THIS

username need me a man like this thank u

username too much unpack he has a GIRLFRIEND and it's Y/N

-> username HE PULLS??? HE PULLED HER???

username this is life altering

username shaking from excitement i cannot WAIT for logan to download instagram again and be Surprised

landonorris disgusting

-> charles_leclerc forgive me for not wanting to hide my love ☹️

-> username NAH WHO GOT HIM LIKE THIS

username "thinking bout her eyes every hour she's my wildflower" OH HE'S IN LOVEEEE LOVE

username his voice oh my god

-> username tears dripping down my thighs

-> username OHMYGOD

maxverstappen1 "we are not the same" thank god

-> charles_leclerc bubonic plague 🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠

-> username nurse he's out 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

-> username nah who got him being funny

-> username DID PEOPLE SERIOUSLY NOT LISTEN TO THE SONG

-> username NO WAY THAT'S Y/N AT THE END

-> username "okaaaaaaay" CRYINF I LOVE THEM

username my life has been divided into before this song and after this song and im so grateful for that

username i think the most important thing here is who out of all his friends owns a toyota in which the heat don't work

username crying bc wdym charles wrote a song for his gf when they weren't even dating

username in love with y/n's voice at the end WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

-> username screaming i need this song injected in my veins

yourusername craaaaaaaazy how u never told me that ⁉️

-> charles_leclerc details details

yourusername cool song

-> charles_leclerc thank you i wrote it for my girlfriend

yourusername AHSHDHDJJSJSJAJS IN LOVE THIS WAS SO GOOD UR VOICE IS INSANE I LOVE IT SO MUCH

-> charles_leclerc THANK YOU !! ❤️

-> username they make me SICK

-> username calm bf 🤝 hyperactive gf

username the most important question is did logan re download this app

-> yourusername he did but then he saw this post, heard the song and deleted it again

-> yourusername he's just bitter i am bsfs with max before him

-> logansargeant disowned

-> yourusername my grad pic on the mantle BEGS to differ !!!!!! u are on the piano u have no room to talk

-> logansargeant i'm pushing you out of this year's christmas card

≡.;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 899,527 others

yourusername got him to say he would still love me if i was a worm n now we go on walks and i point at every worm and say sorry i can't be her

tagged charles_leclerc

12,628 comments

username NO WAY THIS JS REAL

username i just want a detailed description of how they met and who asked the other out ☝️😞

username my roman empire the fuck

username the way their personalities crash when will it be me

username THE CAPTION IM SCREAMING

username the way she will never let that man know peace and i am so EXCITED

username she's so unhinged i love her

username LET IT ONCE BE ME PLEASEEE

username blocked (im laying on the highway tonight)

username the way i know logan had to be sedated

-> username my man did nothing wrong why are they torturing him 😭

alex_albon we're down one driver at williams

-> yourusername is it a good time to tell u that i recently got my license

-> logansargeant YOU FAILED YOUR TEST 5 TIMES FUCK OFFFFFFF

-> yourusername big emotions

-> username im cryinf what do you mean shw faield the test 5 TIMES ????

username LMAOO THE LAST SLIDE 😭😭😭 I LOVE HER

username parents dare i say

username max is not happy i can tell

-> yourusername i received a very strongly worded message from him yesterday and the only thing i could make out was that he's a bitch for charles like. a BITCH.

-> maxverstappen1 blasphemy

-> logansargeant NO WAY you're buddies with MAX VERSTAPPEN before ME back OFFFFFF

-> yourusername nurse he is out again 🗣️🗣️🗣️

-> username what are they doing to my boy 😭

logansargeant y/n please. THINK.

-> yourusername i did

-> logansargeant AND ?

-> yourusername he's nice i will keep him

-> logansargeant NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

-> yourusername god forbid a girl wants to date a questionable man

-> charles_leclerc ?

username crazy how this is the most random couple ever and we're instantly like PARENTS !!!!

-> username i for once love them like the cultural clashes we're gonna get heh

charles_leclerc my love please

-> yourusername my pronouns are she not her because i'll never be her 🪱

-> charles_leclerc stop

charles_leclerc and can you please tell your brother to hesitate before speaking? he just offered me candy and a dollar to break up with you

-> yourusername FUCK U I AM WORTH WAY MORE THAN CANDY AND A DOLLAR

-> charles_leclerc that is not the issue here

charles_leclerc pretty girl

-> logansargeant keep your thoughts to yourself you hormonal vulgarian

-> yourusername TIME OUT FOR U let my bf live

-> charles_leclerc this is how my life is going to be from now on?

-> yourusername are u complaining (threatening)

-> username i KNOW logan is shaking behind the screen he just called charles leclerc a hormonal vulgarian

-> username sibling rage takes people places they wouldn't go with a gun

username this is hilarious

username logan's likes on twt are mind blowing like what do u MEAN u wish the plague on ur sister 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-> yourusername u should see what his texts look like

-> yourusername "you need an excoeciscism for the demon in u it might an issue idk" followed by quora links

-> username siblings ❤️

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, logansargeant, carlossainz55 and 2,729,915 others

charles_leclerc silently working on our own little crafts in the same room tonight, queen? ❤️

tagged yourusername

11,628 comments

username CRYINGGGGG I HATE HIS GUTS

username LET IT ONCE BE ME HOLY SHITTTTTT

username they're so parents it's insane

username he's so relatable bc i too would be obsessed with y/n

username he definitely has one of those t-shirts that say "i ❤️ my gf"

-> yourusername he has one in every colour with diff fonts :((((

-> username GOODBYE

username need me a man who will sit in my general vicinity while we work on our own silly little crafts together

-> username charles might've just set a standard idk NEVER SETTLE FOR LESS

username that text.............im violently ill

username the matching rings wow god really does have favourites

yourusername wait a sec i got 12000% error on my scale

-> landonorris how do you even manage to do that

-> yourusername if u think women don't belong in stem just say that

-> landonorris STOP IT MY PR TEAM IS HUNTING ME DOEN FOR SPROT TAKE JT BACK

-> charles_leclerc shame on you

-> landonorris WJAT DID I DO

-> username crying they're terrorizing people for fun 😭

-> username we deserve this

yourusername fighting demons (a degree that i chose to study) to be on my phone bc my BOYFRIEND posted

-> charles_leclerc don't give logan more reasons to send me vaguely veiled threats

-> yourusername he does WHAT

-> logansargeant sending him links on how people got away with murder is HARDLY a threat idk why you're like this

-> username no way they got him UNHINGED

-> username 😭😭😭😭😭 he's so

yourusername MY BABY LEO 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

-> charles_leclerc i am right there

-> yourusername so is leo 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

yourusername are u mitosis bc i never metaphase as cute as urs

-> charles_leclerc i am too dumb to understand this but you are the prettiest

-> yourusername king i am so in love with u

-> logansargeant i judt tfeew up

-> yourusername leave me ALONE

username i hope all the happy couples break up (why couldn't it be me in a relationship)

username SCREAMING HE'S SO DOWN BAD

[devilsclergy]

03.16.18: haru

[rezzyromance]

Maybe if you have the time could you do a part 2 to the heisenberg diary one? It's really cute :3

Absolutely! Ask and you shall receive!

(If you are looking for Part 1 you can find it here. Thanks.)

Part 2 Of Karl finding the readers diary

(CW: Sex) NSFW +18

Hey guys! So many of you requested for a part 2 and honestly it made my day. As someone who doesn't write smut often, I am definitely not well versed in all the different "types". That being said, I'm definitely not confident enough to tackle male on male sexual scenarios yet. I try to keep all of my stories gender neutral unless asked for differently, but I have no clue how to write gender neutral sex. With all that being said, the sex that happens in this story will present the reader as someone with female anatomy. I'm sorry if this isn't what some of you were looking for. I will be writing sexual stories in the future where the reader is male, but I'll need time. So sorry for the inconvenience and I hope this doesn't disappoint.- R

After you were sure Karl was far away from the door, you run to shut it, feeling ashamed of your secret being found out. You almost feel like you could cry out of embarrassment. You let out a sigh and begin to get dressed in the clothing he previously grabbed for you. Once you're dressed, you curl up on the bed and try to gather your thoughts and emotions. Obviously he wasn't upset about your feelings. So, does that mean he doesn't hate you or think of you any less? What does this mean for your future? Can you even look at him after this? You groan and shove your face into your pillow.

Meanwhile, he was in his workshop, grinning ear to ear. He wanted to keep teasing you, seeing how far he could push you, but at the same time he didn't want to genuinely make you uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to drive you away, especially now that he's starting to feel strange. Could he possibly be falling for you too? He ignores this thought and begins to work on a new project, a gift for you.

A few hours go by and you haven't left the bd. You hear a knock on the door and stay silent, still embarrassed about the whole situation. The door slowly opens and Karl peaks through. "Hey.. wanna talk?", he asks awkwardly. "No." "Good because I'm shit with words.", he opens the door completely and begins to walk towards you with a hand suspiciously behind his back. "Did you come in here just to fuck with me again?", you snap, sitting up and resting your back against the headboard. He smiles at your attitude and sits beside you on the bed. "Well, I'm very tempted to. But, I came here to give you this.", he moves the hand behind his back to the front, handing you a gift. It was a little metal figure of your favorite animal that he just made.

You take it into your hands and hold it, gazing upon every detail. Why would he make you something so nice? Especially after he learned how you felt? Could this be some type of confession on his part?

You hold the little metal animal close and and look up at him. He was staring at your face the whole time, analyzing your reaction. A smile slowly formed on your face and you move forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hug him. This caught him off guard and his mouth slightly gapes open. Positive physical contact was a foreign concept to him, but he loved it. He moves a hand and places it on your back. "Thank you so much, Karl. I love it." "No problem, Buttercup."

Your face grows so hot from the sudden new nickname that he can feel the heat radiating off of you. You pull away and he chuckles at your blushed face. "You're so easy to make flustered." he says. His words make you cross your arms and look away. "Oh shut up!", you hiss. His face doesn't change from its usual smug look. "Why don't you make me?", he hums. You snap your face towards his, shocked at his boldness. "I know you want to. In fact, I know you want a lot more than just that. You made it pretty clear in those pages. So tell me (Y/N), is it true? Do you really want me that badly?"

You feel as if you've stopped breathing. You're frozen in place, stuck in the middle of wanting to kiss him and wanting to slap him. Your silence only makes him smile bigger as he watches you grow more and more flustered. "You don't have to be shy. Though it's really cute that you are.", you watch as his gloved hand extends towards your face, gently gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

He leans in closer, almost grazing your lips with his. His eyes are fixed on your red face, burning into your soul. "What do you want?", he hums. You can barely hear him over the sound of your own heartbeat. "I want you.", you finally whisper. "That's what I thought.", he grins and breaks the distance between the both of you by placing his lips to yours. You don't fight it and instead lean into it, intertwining your fingers in his hair eagerly. You feel him smile against your lips and his hand moves from your chin to your waist, causing you to flinch under his touch.

He pulls away but keeps his face close to yours. "I take it that you're not as pissed as I thought, right?", he snickers. "No I'm still pretty pissed at you." you say as you try to stifle a smile. "If that's the case then you must want me to just get up and leave you alone.", his body begins to shift away and you grip onto his coat. "Wow you're even more needy in real life than you are on paper." You tug on his coat harder, signaling for him to get closer.

He responds by taking his coat off completely and throwing it to the side. With his back now to the headboard and his legs outstretched in front of him, you crawl over to him and straddle his lap. You look at his face and begin to rub your thumb over the scar on his lip. The scar you had mentioned as your favorite. He goes to kiss your finger, but you move it away. "Aw come on. I won't bite. Even if you feel like I'm the predator to your prey.", he teases. "Shit, he really did read my diary huh.", you think to yourself. He could tell what you were thinking as your face grew more and more flushed. "Now don't get all embarrassed on me now. The fun's just getting started. After all, all you want is me, right?", he places his hands gently on your lower back, slowly lowering them towards your ass as he scans your face, making sure you're still okay. "You're quoting it like it's scripture.", you smile. "They might as well be. Good words to live by."

You smile and place your hands on his shoulders, leaning over to kiss him once again. While you were still nervous, you decided to let a little of your anxiety drift away as you grow more and more comfortable. You begin to unbuckle his pants and pull on his shirt, untucking it. He pulls away from you to help you out and completely removes his shirt, throwing it close to his coat. The kiss resumes as you fiddle with the button of his pants, finally unbottoning them.

Suddenly, he grips your waist and tosses you lightly to the side. He gets off of the bed and pulls you closer to him with your legs, causing you to squeal. An idiotic smile is plastered across his face as he unbottons your pants effortlessly. His fierce eyes had a glimmer in them that caused goosebumps to rise all over your skin. Soon, your pants are completely pulled off. He pulls your legs again, causing the lower half of your body to be dangling off the side of the bed. You wrap your legs around him and he leans down, placing messy kisses across your neck. Breathy moans leave your lips as you feel his bulge sit against your now barely clothed privates.

You look up at the sight in front of you. You could see each and every scar that laid on his skin in so much more detail than before. He watched your eyes wander around his body and felt his pride somehow grow stronger as you grew more and more flustered. With one hand, he begins to rub one of your thighs, with the other, he slides up inside your sweater and begins to fondle your breast. He made sure to show some extra attention to your nipple, using his rough and calloused fingers to play with it as you squirmed and whined. "Alright. Enough fucking around.", his hands leave your skin. All it took was a second for your body to miss his touch. Now, his hands were fondling with his pants, unbuttoning and removing them.

The sight you were met with was intimidating. You lifted your head up and swallowed anxiously. His bulge was so big you could almost see the details of his cock as it was pressed against the fabric of his boxers. The tip was peaking out from the waistline, leaking a few drops of precum. You clutch the sheets beneath you in anxious anticipation. He takes a few steps to go back to his previous position of entanglement with you. Even though he didn't have to take many steps, maybe 3 or 4 at most, he walked with a confident stride that both terrified you and brought a smile to your face.

"What's with the grin? You want me to fuck you that bad?", he moves his hands back under your sweater and begins to grope each of your breasts. You nod, too flustered and shy to verbally say yes. "Aw come on. That's all you got?", he leans forward slightly to place his hand on your throat, applying pressure to each side of your neck. "I want to hear you beg for it.", he begins to rub his bulge against your soaked panties. Your legs twitch slightly as you stumble on your words. "Pl-please...", you manage to say. "What do you want?", he squeezes harder, enough to cause your body to tense up but not enough to actually cause any harmful lack of airflow. "I want you.. to f-fuck me... please..", you say. "Good girl.", he lets go of your throat and begins to pull his boxers down to his knees.

You take a deep breath as you feel his tip graze your entrance. Suddenly, your breath hitches as your whole body is pulled towards him, causing you to take almost all of him in at once. You gasp and he looks at your face, making sure your pleasure was overpowering the pain. Once he knows for sure that you're okay, he pushes the rest of him in. With his dick now fully lubricated with your wetness, he grips your thighs and begins to pound into you.

You grip onto the sheets for dear life as you feel him stretch you. You can hear him grunting under his breath with each thrust. His movements were brutal. You felt like you could feel him in your stomach, intruding on your organs as they tied in knots. Without stopping, he leans down again to nip at the skin of your neck.

You whimper under his teeth, knowing he plans on leaving marks for you to discover later. "You like this? Is this what you fantasized?", he switches in between kissing and biting all over your neck. "Mhm", you whimper. His face moves lower, traveling to your breast. He begins to nibble at your sensitive nipple. You wrap your arms around him and respond with a loud moan as you dig your nails into his back. He winces, but enjoys the feeling.

He continues to restlessly pound into you. The air is filled with moans, whines, grunts, slurred swears, and the sound of your skin slapping against his. He moves his hand in-between your legs, placing his thumb against your clit. This simple action alone is enough to make your whole body jolt. He continues to rub it, watching and listening closely to figure out what works best on you. He sticks to whatever makes you scream the louds and grip onto him the hardest. Your body shakes beneath him as it is overstimulated with pleasure, close to reaching it's peak.

He abrupt stops and pulls out. Before you begin to complain, he makes his way onto the bed and sits up, wiggling his fingers breathlessly to signal for you. "Come here.", he says. Once you're in reaching distance, he grabs you by the arms and pulls you closer. You sit down on his cock, dying for more. You both moan, nearly harmonizing as you take in his girth. "Bounce on it. I know you want it.", he says. You do as he says and begin to bounce up and down, feeling your walls squeeze onto his hard, throbbing erection. "Aw fuck yeah.", he moans and lays his head back, closing his eyes tightly as you use him to fuck your brains out. He opens them again to look at your boobs. It's almost hypnotizing to him the way they bounce. "Aw fuck.. look at you.. so desperate to cum.", he says in-between deep, breathy moans. "Bouncing on my cock like a good little whore. Show me how much you want it.", he slaps your ass hard. You pick up the pace after gasping from his harsh hit, your ass cheek stinging from where his hand struck.

He leaned forward and began to bite on different parts of you boobs, leaving soon-to-be hickeys all over your chest. This makes your knees weak. Your legs shake as you struggle to continue to ride out your high. You could tell by the way that your insides burned and ached that you were so close to cumming, but you were even closer to running out of steam. He could see your struggles, so he decided to help out. He grips you harshly by the hips and begins to thrust upwards, slamming right into the spot you so desperately wanted to be touched. To be obliterated. You threw your head back, so filled with overwhelming passion that your moan came out completely silent. "Come on. Cum all over my dick. Just like you always wanted.", he says between gritted teeth. You tangle your fingers in his hair and begin to tug on his silver locks. While it does hurt, he loves it, and continues to pound into your sweetspot.

"F-fuck I'm gonna ...c- cu", you can't even finish your sentence before you gush beneath him. Your legs shake violently as he continues to pound into you. Soon, he cums aswell. He loosens his grip on your hips and you begin to rise off of his dick. You're so shaky that you can barely move, so he wraps one arm around your back and gently places a hand behind your head, laying your face down on his chest. "Just rest for a sec." , he says while panting. You nod and lay down as he says. You were both hot and sweaty, but your skin felt perfect against each other. After a few seconds of you both catching your breath, he raises your hips up, letting his dick fall out of you and onto him. He then lowers you back down and continues to hold you.

"So.. will you be adding a new chapter to that little book of yours tonight?", he chuckles. "...fuck off.", he smiles at your response and places a kiss on your head. "Will things... be different between us now that you know?", you ask, nervous about how he'll react. "Well.. I think they will. But if we get to do this more often then I don't mind." You then hold each other for what feels like forever. Melting into each other and your newly mutual feelings.

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

sleeping on the blacktop

pairing: harry styles x reader

warnings: angst, descriptions of a car accident, blood, gore, mentions of death, vomiting, medical terminology (that i know absolutely nothing about !! i am not a doctor or an emt—almost all of my knowledge is from an anatomy class or tv so—don’t come for me pls), my ramblings about fate and free will, i also gave the baby a name (sorry if you don’t like it :( i just hate having y/d/n, ya know? too much work)

word count: 8.5k

synopsis: while harry is away on tour, his wife and baby get into a car accident

author’s note: please, be mindful of the warnings and don't read if you're uncomfortable with anything mentioned and sorry for the sort of rushed ending... other than that, i hope you enjoy! xx all the love

masterlist

—

“You don’t need to do that,” Anne says from behind her, and Y/N flinches, nearly dropping a plate. She got lost in her thoughts, staring out the window in Anne’s kitchen.

“You cooked. It’s the least I can do,” she says. Anne grabs a rag and dries some of the dishes. Gemma is keeping Rhiannon occupied in the next room, and from the peals of laughter, it’s the happiest she’s been in days. Y/N sighs, wiping her pruned hands on a paper towel. If she’s being honest, she’s not doing too well; Rhia has had a hard time adjusting to not having Harry around all the time, causing a varied sleep schedule and more bouts of fussiness in general, and Y/N struggles keeping up.

“How’re you doing?”

Y/N hesitates. She contemplates lying. She doesn’t need one more person worrying for her, and she doesn’t want people to think that she can’t take care of her own child by herself. Harry already worries enough, even though she’s assured him many times that he doesn’t need to be.

She knows that he feels guilty for not being there all the time, but she would never force him to stop touring and doing what he loves, partly because she’s afraid he’ll resent her. Despite him being across an entire ocean, she never feels like he is far; he’s always willing to stop anything when she calls, and he tries his hardest to talk with her twice a day. She always keeps him as involved as possible, sending daily updates and photos.

“It’s tough,” she admits, “but it’s getting better, no need to worry about me.” She offers Anne a weak smile.

“Can’t help it,” she says, pinching her cheeks lightly.

Noticing the dimming sky, the sun sinking below the line of trees in the yard, Y/N sighs.

“We should probably go,” she mutters, slipping into the next room. Despite how tired she is, she can’t help the smile that takes over her face when Rhiannon looks up at her, showing her gums.

“Time to go, bug,” she says, light and lilting. Rhia kicks her legs, making her almost lose her balance. She’s too confident for her own good, like her father; she’s only just started sitting up on her own and thinks she can wiggle around without falling.

“You sure you’re okay to drive, love?” Anne asks from behind her. Y/N rolls her eyes, yet smiles fondly at her protectiveness.

“We’ll be fine. It’s only a few minutes away.”

Ever since Harry left for tour, Y/N has been staying in their lake cottage to be closer to Anne. It’s only a quick 20 minute drive away, which has been helpful during the days when Y/N needed to catch up on sleep, and Anne is always happy to help. She didn’t like to do that very often, feeling like she was taking advantage of her mother-in-law.

The cottage was a cute little thing, perfect for just the two of them, and Y/N was glad to get out of their shared home; it was too big and empty for just her and Rhia. Harry was always able to liven up any place they were at, but now that he’s gone, it felt hollow and dismal.

“You know you’re welcome to stay here. I’ve got plenty of room,” Anne tries to convince her one last time. As much as Y/N appreciated her worrying, she didn’t want to impose, and she’s sure that Anne wouldn’t want to listen to a fussy baby, even though she would deny it to the end of her days.

Y/N puts Rhia in her coat with little resistance, which is surprising, but she only had a short little nap that afternoon, and they had a busy day.

“I know, Anne, but I don’t want to intrude,” Y/N says. “Besides, Rhia sleeps better in our bed, and you need all the sleep you can get, don’t ya?” She tickles her daughter’s little bloated belly, making her giggle sweetly. Once she’s strapped in, the baby stretches and tries to put Y/N’s fingers in her mouth.

“You know I worry about you,” Anne sighs, kneeling next to Y/N.

“No need to worry,” Y/N smiles. Anne tucks the woven green blanket under Rhiannon’s legs. It’s the same blanket Harry had when he was a baby, barely held together with a few threads and love. Y/N stands, hoisting the carrier up to her hip.

“Call me when you get home, yeah?”

“Course,” she says, pressing a kiss to Anne’s cheek.

When they’re settled in the car, Anne stays out on the porch, watching them until they’re safely on the road, offering a wide smile and an air kiss. Y/N is so thankful to have her shoulder to lean on.

It’s a clear night, which Y/N is thankful for, no fog or rain, which isn’t an often occurrence. She stops at a sign, brakes squealing slightly. She stays there for a second, feeling the familiar burn of exhaustion behind her eyes. She rests her forehead against the steering wheel.

“Da, da,” Rhiannon mumbles. Y/N reaches behind her, barely able to reach her on the opposite side of the back seat, and she grabs onto her fingers.

“I know, peach,” Y/N sighs, “Miss daddy, too.”

She never considered how fragile life could be until she met Harry, not in the sense that death is an imminent and constant force, more in the sense that everything, her goals, her view on life, and her priorities, shifted when she met him. He became her influence, and she was willing to go through hell or high water just to be with him.

In summation, it takes all but five seconds for your life to completely change, for better or for worse.

There are dozens upon dozens of tiny events that build up and push you toward that one big moment that will change your life. Nothing is set in stone; different choices lead you down different paths, and your paths are constantly changing, either for better or worse, and slowly but surely, you’ll finally reach the top of that mountain. Every choice you questioned, every sacrifice you made, will come together in due time, just know that you’re working toward a greater purpose.

Y/N has never been a big believer in fate, that everything is beyond your control and that everything is already set in stone, but perhaps there is some truth to it. Fate could have pushed her to leave home when she was young. Fate could have put her on a safe and stable path when she went to university that landed her a good job when she was fresh out of her internship, and fate could have brought Harry into her life.

But she will never claim fate as a sole guide to her life. Fate is not responsible for her success nor her mistakes; that was all because of her hard work and integrity, her youth and ignorance. To her, fate is simply an excuse. People want to put blame on something, and when things seem out of their control or when they make bad decisions, they don’t feel quite as guilty. They’re willing to take credit for good things that happen but won’t when it affects them negatively.

Say, perhaps, that fate brought Y/N to that intersection, then maybe it was fate that planted the trees that obscured her vision; perhaps, it was fate that made the lights in the post go out that evening.

If so, fate has a twisted sense of humor.

If not, why wouldn’t fate give her any time to react before the impact?

How could fate be so cruel?

—

Working as an EMT, there are always certain risks you accept when you are on the clock; not only are you surrounded by an unbelievable pressure, there is always the ominous cloud looming overhead, a thin thread between life and death threatening to break at any moment, and it’s your job to keep them stable until they arrive at the hospital.

Not too hard, right?

Being able to save people from the brink of death and reuniting families makes almost everything worth it, but there are always scenes that stick with you for the rest of your life, and for Leslie Greene, this is one of them.

What stands out the most is the sound of a crying baby.

She’s seen some very horrific accidents: cars that have been reduced to nothing more than a ball of cheap scrap metal, with blood coating the shattered glass, to DOA’s, where the impact made them look unrecognizable. She has seen a lot of unspeakable things and had a lot of good people die on her watch.

But never has she ever had a baby present at any accident scene. That’s new.

Those cries will probably haunt her for the rest of her life.

“I didn’ see ‘em,” the man slurs from the police car. He has a bloodied lip and a slight bruise forming around his neck from the seat belt. The stench of rum rolls off him with every breath. He sits back, eyes dull and hooded, like he doesn’t even realize what he’s done.

Another EMT meets with her half-way to the other vehicle, lodged against the ditch across the way.

“Driver side sustained some serious damage. The baby has no discernible injuries, but another ambulance is a minute out to take her.”

From the driver’s side, Leslie can see the baby on the opposite side of the backseat, the car seat still tightly in place. The baby flails about, legs and arms kicking with strength. The car is twisted and mangled, but most of the damage is on the driver’s side, the door latched closed. Shattered glass cracks beneath her boot.

When they’re finally able to get the car door open, the woman, barely even mobile, opens her eyes slightly, but she flinches back at the bright lights. Blood drips down from her hairline, bruises already forming on her eyes from the impact on the steering wheel. Blood pools on the leather seat as she shifts with discomfort.

James, a newbie who has never been to a scene with this much damage, breathes out shakily. Leslie turns to see his lips curling, close to dry heaving.

“Go get the baby, yeah?”

He nods quickly, pale in the face, and scurries to the other side. The baby is soothed only momentarily before her wails continue. The woman’s eyes snap open fully this time, panic clear on her features. She tugs fruitlessly on the seat belt, a pained groan leaving her when she moves too quickly.

“Please, don’t move. My name is Leslie. I’m here to help.” She presses a hand to her chest, feeling the woman’s racing heart. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she grits out, her eyes fluttering dangerously. From how she reacted to the lights, she probably has a concussion. Leslie cuts the seat belt, and glass falls onto the blacktop, clinking musically until they settle, like they’re sleeping. Through the gloves, she can feel how warm she is, sweat beading down from her forehead. Glass has settled in the divots of her wool sweater, but not before cutting her skin, caking the pearl necklace peeking from the neckline in blood.

“Y/N, I need you to turn a bit. I need to see where the bleeding is coming from,” Leslie says softly, inching her slowly onto her side. She sighs as more blood pools, gushing down her back and soaking her jumper further. It’s from a rib that broke through the skin. She can only hope that they didn’t puncture an organ.

“Does that hurt?” She asks as she puts pressure on the skin.

“No,” Y/N whimpers, eyes fluttering closed. When they get her on the stretcher, with minimal blood loss, she stirs with life again, her trembling hand reaching onto the sleeve of Leslie’s shirt, painting it red.

“Rhiannon—my baby girl—is she…” She swallows back tears.

“She’s fine.” Leslie knows that it’s unwise to lie to a patient; perhaps, she’s not entirely lying, but it’s never a good idea to give a victim a sure diagnosis without actually knowing anything. There may have been no physical signs of trauma to the baby, but internal problems are a very real possibility that they won’t know of until they get to the hospital.

She knows that she shouldn’t lie. It takes seven minutes to get to the nearest hospital, but it’s time that Y/N may not have; despite how quickly they were able to get her into the ambulance, she’s losing a lot of blood.

“Thank you,” Y/N sighs in relief, clutching onto her hand. Her wedding ring nearly cuts through the gloves from the pressure.

“Of course,” Leslie says, easily putting her on an IV.

“My husband,” she gasps suddenly, her arm jerking about. “Harry—he—he’s gonna be worried. ‘M supposed to call. He has to tell her goodnight—“

“Y/N, relax,” Leslie coos. “We will contact your husband. You need to focus on yourself, yeah? Don’t close your eyes, Y/N.”

Leslie can see the fear in her eyes; it’s something she’s grown very familiar with, but it’s not just fear for her own survival. She can see how scared she is for her family. She struggles to keep her eyes open, resilience and weakness fighting for power. Like any mother, she’s fighting for her family. She’s fighting to be able to hold onto and kiss them one more time.

She is trying so hard to fight for her family.

But at the same time, it’s so easy to give in.

“If I don’t make it,” she slurs, breathing quickly out of her nose. The blood from her nose slips down into her mouth, making her cough.

“Don’t say—”

“If I don’t, I need you to tell Harry that I love him, and that…” She lets out a pained whimper, struggling to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“This wasn’t your fault, love.”

Her lip quivers, teeth chattering.

“I’m just sorry for everything.”

Leslie knows exactly what that means. She’s making amends, apologizing for not being able to fight. A lone tear slips from her eye, but Leslie wipes it away.

“I will.” She promises, gripping her hand tighter.

Only two more minutes.

Y/N gives her a thankful nod, and as if she has finally made peace with the world, she falls limp, the light leaving her eyes.

—

Harry has always enjoyed New York, and it’s not very often that he is able to stay for longer than one night. There is just something about it that’s completely different from London or L.A. that he likes about it; He couldn’t imagine actually living there, with the massive crowds and fluctuating weather, but it’s a nice place to visit, very different from what he’s used to.

He’s halfway through the tour for his most recent album, and New York is the last stop before he gets a short break to go home. He has a show tonight at Madison Square, a radio interview in the morning, and then, he’s home free. He’s been looking forward to this break before the tour even began. Don’t get him wrong, he loves performing and meeting fans and traveling the world, but now that he has a family, it gets more and more difficult not being there for the people who need him most.

“So, I heard,” the interviewer begins, smiling widely.

Sadly, Harry has already forgotten his name. The interview was supposed to be a short little thing for social media, only supposed to take 20 minutes, so he could prepare for the concert that evening, but it’s been nearly an hour, and there are no signs of stopping any time soon. Harry holds off yet another yawn, the lack of sleep from the night before washing over him. He’s having trouble focusing.

“You’ve got a baby girl.”

“Yes,” Harry beams. Even though he wants to keep his baby out of the limelight, he can’t help the excitement that fills his chest whenever she's mentioned. He can easily go on and on about how wonderful and sweet and perfect she is. He tugs on his pearl necklace, biting on his lips to keep quiet. He and Y/N agreed that it would be best for Rhia to grow up as normally as possible, which meant only posting about her on his private social media and avoiding busy places so as to not be seen, but some things were simply unavoidable, like interviewers trying to get him to let something about her slip to get their five-minutes-of-fame. It seems rude of him to completely ignore their questions, so he just sticks to very short, vague answers.

“How are you adjusting to fatherhood?”

“Uh,” he laughs, fiddling with his wedding ring. “It was a struggle to begin with. I will admit that, but it’s getting better. We’re still learning how to adjust to everything.”

He says it like he’s actually there, actively helping Y/N, even though he's on the other side of the world. He hasn’t seen his daughter in nearly two months; video chats have absolutely nothing on the real thing. He isn’t helping Y/N put Rhia to sleep when she’s feeling particularly fussy or feeding her at two in the morning, so Y/N can finally get some well-deserved sleep, and he’s not there to play with her or comfort her.

It feels like he’s lying.

He’s a sad excuse of a father. That’s what he really is.

The thought makes the smile fall from his face, but he’s quick to force another one; if there’s anything that he’s learned after years in the public eye, it’s how to fake emotions. The interviewer gives him an understanding smile. He’s older, but not too old, only having a few years on Harry, age wise, but the wrinkles beside his eyes and the nicked ring on his finger suggest years of familial experience.

“I completely understand. I have three boys of my own, and—”

“I am so sorry,” Jeff, Harry’s savior, says suddenly from behind the camera. “D’ya mind if I borrow Harry for a second?”

The interviewer nods.

“No problem. Take 15?”

Harry feels a twinge of guilt as he stands quickly from the chair, happy to finally have a break.

“Thanks,” Harry sighs, brushing past Jeff to the refreshment table. “‘M exhausted. Maybe it’s ‘cause of Rhi, but every little thing wakes me up. Swore I heard her cryin’ last night.” Jeff is quiet, fiddling with his hands nervously. Harry doesn’t notice how quiet the man has gotten, and he opens a bottle of water, rifling through his bag.

“Isn’t it almost 3? Y/N should be callin’ soon.”

“Harry,” Jeff says again, stronger this time. Harry still doesn’t notice how his voice breaks slightly, wobbly and hesitant.

“Yeah?” Harry drinks nearly half of the water, not sparing a glance up. He fishes for his phone, only to remember that he left it in the car. He sighs and turns. That’s when he finally notices how shaken up Jeff is, pale and nervous.

“What’s up? Look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he laughs, downing the rest of his water before tossing it in the bin.

“Harry,” Jeff says again, soft and somber, and it makes Harry stop. Dread settles in his stomach, deep and heavy. Jeff has never been one to be the bearer of bad news, and he tended to beat around the bush. “Why don’t you sit down?” Jeff tries to guide Harry over to the cheap stool in the corner of the room, but he rips his arm from his grasp.

Harry has never been one to let his mind run wild; he’s the calm one, who looks at reason and logic. He's the one to tell everyone that everything’s going to be fine; he’s the one who takes everything in stride, like water rolling down his back. Bumps in the road are nothing. He’s the one that comes up with solutions and executes them with ease, but with the way Jeff is treating him, his heart races.

“What?”

“There’s been an accident,” Jeff says slowly, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

It takes a second for Harry to process his words, but when he does, he stumbles back.

His mind automatically tries to reason with itself, that maybe it has nothing to do with him. Perhaps, something went wrong at the venue, and they would have to postpone, lengthening his stay for only a couple more days. Maybe, Mitch got food poisoning and will be unable to play that evening. There are dozens of reasonable explanations as to why Jeff pulled him aside, but Harry knows, deep down, that he wouldn’t have such a mournful look in his eyes, if it isn’t anything less than very serious.

Okay, fine, there was an accident. That could mean so many different things. An accident doesn’t even necessarily mean that they are in grave danger; they could be walking away unscathed.

“W-what? I-i-is it Gem? Mum?” Endless scenarios flicker in his mind, each one worse than the last. The one thing that he doesn’t even consider is it being Y/N or Rhiannon. His mind refuses to go down that road; if it did, there’s no way of knowing how he would react. He doesn’t even consider the possibility of them being in trouble. He hates how long Jeff is taking to tell him, as if holding off will soften the blow. Irritation starts bubbling below the surface, and he finds it hard to keep calm.

“Harry,” he says, shaking his head. “Anne called me. There was a drunk driver, and they’re headed to the hospital now—”

“They?”

His heart stops for a second, and it feels like his chest collapses in on itself. His body feels like it’s reacting to a stressful situation, with adrenaline and fear and anger, but Harry isn’t thinking with a grieving mind; it’s cloudy and slow, delusional, even. He shakes his head.

“No,” Harry mutters, taking a step forward. He can feel tears burn in his eyes, and he makes no move to wipe them. “It wasn’t…” Harry can’t finish the question. It makes him nauseous. Jeff nods solemnly, which, in any other circumstance, would have been answer enough. “Say it,” Harry snaps.

It’s unreal, like a dream. This didn’t happen to him, not his family.

They’re safe. There’s just been a mistake. That’s the only reasonable explanation to everything. Someone made a mistake. Maybe a fan thought it would be funny to pretend to be his mum, and they somehow got Jeff’s number. It had to be a horrible, awful, repulsive joke to get some attention or something; as implausible as that seems, it’s the only thought that makes sense to him because he can’t possibly understand the weight of the truth. He doesn’t know if he can handle it.

His girls are fine.

They have to be.

“Harry—” Jeff tries to calm him down, seeing a bright red flush to his skin, frustration seeping through every pore. Anger isn’t becoming of Harry; Jeff has only seen him angry a couple of times, but never to this extent: red in the face, words shaky, eyes glassy.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“It was Y/N and Rhiannon.”

That is the absolute last thing that he wanted to hear.

Even though, deep down, he knew that they were in trouble. From the first moment Jeff said his name to how sickly he looked when he told him to sit down, Harry knew, deep in his heart and mind, that his family is in trouble. He just wasn’t willing to accept it or even think about it, as if that could change reality. Until Jeff said those five words that confirmed his worst nightmare.

And he feels his world come crashing down, but he’s stuck, frozen, mind not moving nearly as fast as it should be.

“My—my…” He stutters, throat closing. “My girls?” The ache in his chest increases tenfold, and he holds onto his, feeling the racing of his heart and his quick breathing. “You’re fuckin’ with me,” he scoffs, rage building. He shakes his head with denial. “What kind of fuckin’ prick—”

“I wouldn’t joke about—”

Harry knows that. Y/N and Jeff are close. Hell, they even considered making him their daughter’s godfather. Jeff would never joke about something this serious, and Harry knows that, but he isn’t willing to accept the reality because the reality is nearly too much for him to comprehend, to carry on his already weak shoulders.

“No, they’re not,” Harry closes his eyes, hands slipping through his hair like it normally does when he’s anxious. He tugs on it, but the pain is nothing compared to the sick feeling in his stomach or the crack in his pounding heart. He honestly feels like he’s going to be ill or pass out, feeling his mouth dry up, his hands clamming up, and he begins to feel light-headed.

“Y/N’s just about to call me. It’s Rhi’s bedtime.” He rambles, not listening to Jeff.

They can’t be going to a hospital. He talked to Y/N just this morning when he couldn’t fall asleep. He spoke about his worries and doubts and guilt that he felt for being so far away from them, and Y/N soothed all of his fears and reservations, reminding him why he does what he does. Before she left, she told him that she loved him, and he could hear Rhi babbling away in the background, content and happy and safe.

“There’s a plane leaving in a half an hour—”

“And I sing to her. That's the only way she’ll sleep through the night. She hasn’t been sleepin’ very well these past few days,” he says, lost in his thoughts. His words begin to slur.

“Harry, listen to me,” Jeff says, holding onto his shoulders, trying to keep him grounded, from falling apart. Harry doesn’t get anxious often, but when he does, everything comes to a startling halt; he’s not used to it, and he lets it overwhelm him until he can’t function. That’s the last thing anyone needs.

“No, no, they’re fine. They’re fine. They’re—” He swallows, and like a wave, realization dawns on him, drowning him. His family is in the hospital, and he’s not there with them. “Oh, god,” he cries, feeling bile burn his throat. He sinks to his knees, hand pitifully covering his mouth to keep from vomiting. His vision darkens. It feels like the walls are crumbling down, and he’s stuck, frozen and alone, with no one coming to save him.

Just like his girls.

“Harry, you can’t shut down, not now,” Jeff says, kneeling beside him. “They need you.”

He knows that. He needs to be strong for the both of them, so he wipes away his tears, clenches his jaw, and pushes everything down, even if it feels like he’s choking. He has to be strong for the both of them.

The drive to the airport is a blur. He swallows back his tears until his head feels like it’s going to burst and holds his breath until he can see black spots in his vision, but most of all, he’s numb. A small part of him is still trying to convince himself that this is all just a big misunderstanding, but the larger part, the part that’s screaming the loudest, tells him he’s being irrational and selfish.

It takes 7 hours to get home; he has to travel across an entire ocean to get to his family.

How unfair is that?

He wants to blame the world, God, fate. He wants to curse whatever force existed, but behind all of the hate and accusations and judgement, he is nothing more than a guilty, broken shell of a man.

He’s angry with himself, mostly, with the choices he’s made, with how selfish and greedy he was, and how inconsiderate his actions have been for the past few months. He can’t believe that he could be so self-centered, taking Y/N for granted. She’s his wife; they’re supposed to be partners, equals, and he treated her like she was disposable while he traveled the world, living out a dying dream.

He wishes he was there, to not only prevent it, but also to tell her just one last time how important she was to him and tell her of the pain that would spread in his chest at the possibility of losing her or their child; he wants so badly to show his love for her. In four days, they would have been celebrating six years together, and in that time, he has never doubted his love for her. He knew, from the moment they met, that she was meant to be with him until the very end. They were soulmates.

Now that he might lose her and his baby, he feels like his soul is being ripped out of his chest, leaving nothing but a gaping, painful void.

Jeff sends him a link to Twitter and a message: Harry, take all the time you need.

The post says: Due to a personal emergency, Harry will not be able to make the show at MSG this evening, and all tour dates from this moment forth will be canceled until further notice. Know that he wishes he could be with you all, and please, respect his privacy in these trying times.

He calls his mother shortly after, but she doesn’t answer. When he tries Gem, she picks up after a few rings, shaky and winded. He sighs, trying to quell the tremors in his hands. His lips quiver.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Gemma explains what happened to the best of her ability, that Y/N just left to go back to the cottage after eating dinner And that Anne received a call from the hospital, after he didn’t answer his phone (that part stung to hear).

“Please—” He begins, but his voice teeters and breaks at the end. He can’t help the tears that slip down his cheeks. Exhausted and weak, he finally cries. He cries for his wife, his child, and himself. They’re not heart-wrenching sobs, where he’s keeled over, grief and anxiety spilling out of every pore, but they leave him breathless, chest aching.

“Please, tell me everythin’s gonna be fine.”

Her silence is answer enough. She can’t promise him anything. It’s too early to tell, and she’s not going to lie to him, either, not when his wife and child’s life is in the balance.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Gemma admits, “but I will call you as soon—”

He hangs up before she can finish.

—

Rain thunders onto the broken concrete, a flash of lightning brightening the dull sky. Despite the rain, the earth nearly brimming with life, the hospital is dead. There’s not a soul going in or out. The lights flicker eerily in the corner of his eye. It’s four in the morning, so it’s not much of a surprise, but the sight of it being so lifeless just feels wrong.

His mind is moving quicker than the world can keep up with, it seems, and he feels like it goes against the laws of nature. It’s a strange feeling when you feel like you’re falling apart, but the world continues on; most people on the street wouldn’t bat an eye or even pay any notice to him as he’s deteriorating before their very eyes.

As irrational as it is, it feels wrong. It feels wrong that everyone else is able to go on while his life is crumbling.

He called Gemma when he landed, and there were still no updates on their condition. He broke dozens of traffic laws to get there, and now, he stands outside the entrance, still wearing his wool jumper from the day before, smelling like an airport, with rain soaking his hair. Droplets slip down his cheek and jaw, livening the dried tears from earlier, and they seep into his mouth; he can taste the salt.

He’s just staring at the flickering sign.

He can’t move.

Well, that’s not really it; he can move, he can feel, and he can see, but he doesn’t want to move.

How fucked up is that?

He doesn’t want to go inside. Despite all of his fears, and his longing for answers, and his need to see his family, he can’t move.

Because that would make everything real.

If he goes inside, if he pushes past those doors and sees the doctors, he can’t deny it anymore. When he goes inside, he has to face the very real possibility that he could lose his wife and daughter. He isn’t sure if he’s strong enough to handle it.

He’s being selfish. He knows that. He should be running inside, yelling at doctors and nurses to tell him what they’re doing about his family. He should be trying to do something, anything to see his wife and daughter.

But why is it so hard to move his feet?

And why does he still feel so numb?

He breathes in the cold air, burning his tender throat.

When he finally opens those doors, past the point of no return, he’s welcomed by a blinding light and the scent of antiseptic. The inside is just as lifeless, with dull white walls that leaves his head throbbing and dingy carpet that scrapes against his boots. He follows the signs, leading to the waiting room.

A new round of tears fills his eyes when he sees his mother’s familiar figure. He hasn’t wanted to just completely collapse into her arms, crying, in years, but now, he just wants to be in the comfort of her presence, to forget the world.

But he can’t, just like Jeff told him, he needs to stay strong, for them. He can’t shut down. He breathes out deeply, raises his head, and calls out for his mother.

Anne turns around, and when he sees Rhiannon pressed tightly to her chest, safe and sound, he feels more of his strength return, like he can breathe a little easier. He feels his knees weaken, but he keeps moving. He doesn’t feel quite so empty and broken and numb, a small ray of hope filling him for the first time in hours. He cups the back of her little head, thumb caressing the soft baby hairs. They’ve gotten thicker since the last time he saw her.

“She’s fine, Harry, just a little shaken up,” Anne says, smiling slightly.

His happiness is short lived when Gemma stands from behind Anne.

“Y/N’s in surgery right now. All we can do is wait,” she says, her eyes ringed with red, mirroring his own.

“Da,” Rhia says, and he smiles, a single tear running down his cheek. He wipes it and sniffles.

Y/N pretended to be upset when that was Rhi’s first word. She said it only hours before he had to leave. They were in their home, and Y/N was helping him lug his suitcases out of the bedroom when he heard it. It sounded like another babble, but it became clearer until—

“Da,” she squealed, bouncing in her little jumper chair. “Dada.” She hit a little plastic toy ring on the tray

“Y/N,” he called out for her and knelt down in front of his baby. She rushed out of the bedroom.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Say it again, peach, show mummy,” he cooed, and Rhi repeated it, again and again, reaching for her father.

“I carry her around for nine months and feed her out of my tit,” Y/N whined, “and this is the thanks I get?”

They laughed, nevertheless. It was a bittersweet moment, as he looks back on it now. He was so happy that Rhiannon was growing and learning, but she was growing up too fast for his liking. He lifted Rhi up out of the chair and pressed a gentle kiss to her chubby cheek, tears stinging behind his eyes.

“She’s just daddy’s little girl. Aren’t ya, peach?”

She left a slobbery kiss, well, her version of a kiss (which was more tongue than lip) on his nose. He scrunched up his face, and her features pinched together in return, mimicking him.

“See, jus’ a little mini-me you are,” he said, tickling under her chin.

And when she called out to him after saying their final farewells in the airport, it made it even more difficult for him to leave.

Maybe it was a sign that he shouldn’t leave.

He should have listened.

He’s knocked back into the present when his baby girl looks up at him, eyes lit up with innocence, completely unaware of the dire situation they’re in. They’re not in their London home, and Y/N’s not there with him. His lips wobble, nose burning. His chest hurts, whether from unshed tears or from the thought of actually losing the love of his life, he doesn’t know.

He cups his baby girl’s cheek.

Rhia has Y/N’s eyes. He loves her eyes. When she first opened them, as he held her for the first time, bundled tightly in his arms, he cried big, fat tears until they were all dried up. He felt nothing but love for this little human because she was a perfect mixture of him and Y/N. He loves Rhiannon’s eyes, but now, they serve as nothing but a deathly reminder of his wife, who could possibly not survive these next few hours.

She gives him a gummy smile, her little tongue slipping out over her lips. There’s some white peeking through her gums, and his heart aches. He wipes some drool from her chin, and she reaches for him, but he backs away.

His stomach sinks, and he wants the ground to swallow him whole. His mother looks at him softly, not a shred of disappointment apparent on her face, as if she knew he wouldn’t be able to hold his own daughter. His throat closes.

How could he be so weak?

Rhia’s smile drips down, but she lays her head back on her Nana’s shoulder. Anne cups the girl’s head, wrapping the thinly woven blanket tighter around her; sadness and pity present in the air.

“‘M gonna check in with the nurse, see how Y/N’s doin’,” he whispers, backing away, and he stumbles down the hallway, following the signs until he sees the nearest nurse, clad in pale blue scrubs. Even though he’s sure the nurse expects him to look nothing less than distraught, he smooths down his clothes and clears his throat, trying to quell the cries building, lips quivering pitifully.

“Do you have any information on Y/N Styles?” His voice is watery and broken.

The nurse looks at him with sad eyes, warm and understanding, like his mother’s. How does everyone else know what he’s feeling besides himself?

“No, I’m sorry, sir,” she says, and he simply nods. He doesn’t have the energy to be upset or press her anymore. The heaviness on his chest building, he doesn’t even try to stop it anymore. He just wants to wallow, curl up and cry until he’s finally able to wake up from this nightmare. He hates the feeling like he’s just given up, accepted that Y/N may not come back from this.

He wants to fight, but all of the fight he has left him as soon as Jeff told him the news.

“Thank you,” he whispers, heading back to the waiting room. He sits down silently on the chairs next to Gemma, the worn wood squealing from the sudden weight. Anne paces in front of them, rocking Rhia back and forth, like she has been for the past few hours; call it a nervous tick or a mother’s instinct, but holding Rhiannon calms her.

Gemma glances at him in the corner of her eye, unsure of how to comfort him in such a situation. He can see her

“I can’t hold her, Gem,” he says weakly, and she looks at him, finding his gaze held on the small little bundle in their mother’s arms. She sighs. “What if—” There’s a bitter taste on his tongue. He covers his mouth with trembling hands, trying to push back the cries swelling in his chest.

“What if Y/N dies?”

It’s one thing to think about it, but saying it aloud breaks his heart in two.

Y/N has been a constant in his life for six years, and in that time, she became his rock, his shoulder to cry on, his stability, who held his heart so close to her. Then, he thinks about his baby girl, who has had her mother for barely seven months, just to have her ripped away so easily because of some drunk who didn’t know when to quit, and he thinks he’s going to be sick again.

It takes only one mistake to set off a series of irreversible events.

Exhausted, he doesn’t fight the sob that comes out, his shoulders shaking as more and more. He heaves for breath, curling into himself. Gemma wraps an arm around him, and he cries into her shoulder. He feels useless, sinking further into the endless pit in his mind. He’s never considered the possibility of Y/N never being there with him, holding his hand through the fire, and now that possibility is very real; he can’t face it.

When he’s run himself dry, he finally looks at her with red-rimmed eyes and swollen cheeks.

“If she dies, I dunno if I could even look at her,” he admits. “To see her eyes...” Gemma just listens. She knows that there’s nothing she could ever say to make the situation any better. She holds her brother’s hands tightly. “I should have been here,” he says, nodding softly.

“Harry, there’s nothing you could have done. It’s that prick’s fault, not yours,” she says angrily. She’s trying to keep calm, for everyone’s sake, but it’s difficult when it feels like her family is being torn apart.

“I would’ve been driving,” Harry insists. “I would be the one in there, not her, and they would’ve been safe.”

“You don’t know that,” Gemma argues softly. She’s never seen him like this before, but that’s to be expected in the situation they’re in. He’s normally such an optimistic person, and to hear him degrade himself is almost too much to handle.

“If she does make it—”

“When she makes it,” Gem snaps.

“She’s gonna hate me. I know it.”

“She has never blamed you for anything, not when fans gave her shit, not when paps would follow her, and especially not when you had to leave. There are some things that are simply out of our control, and she understands. She understands that you can’t be there all the time. She understands that this is your job, and your job has made you who you are today. She won’t blame you for this either, so don’t blame yourself.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighs. It’s true. She does not understand what he’s gone through. She doesn’t know what it feels like, but she knows that the damage is already done. There’s no use in looking back and analyzing everything to see what they could have done differently.

“I should’ve been here.”

“If only things were that simple.”

“Harry?” A shallow, unfamiliar voice speaks from behind him, making everyone raise their heads.

Anxiety spikes in his stomach. He wonders how anyone could have recognized him, since there is absolutely no one else in the hospital, and how insensitive they would have to be to come talk to him while he’s in such a state. Anger bubbles within him, his skin turning hot as he turns to face the woman.

The blood on her uniform makes him pause.

“My name is Leslie. I was one of the first people on the scene.”

“Do you know anything?” She shakes her head sadly.

“But I was with your wife in the ambulance. She wanted me to tell you that she loves you and…” She coughs, hesitation clear on her features. “And not to give up.”

She probably doesn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words because when he stands and tugs her into a hug, she tenses, hesitantly wrapping her arms around him. Again, like when he saw his baby girl, hope warms him, blanketing and strengthening him.

It’s like Y/N is speaking to him through her.

“Thank you,” he whispers, offering her a weak smile. Just as they part, an older woman rounds the corner. Everyone sits up a little straighter, the air becoming a little tenser, when she gets closer to them.

“She’s resting, now, but she should be up in a few hours,” the doctor smiles.

Harry wants to crumple to the ground as a weight lifts from his chest, and he can finally breathe. He’s run ragged, a broken cry slipping out of his blubbering lips. He tugs Gemma into his arms, who returns the embrace wholeheartedly. Such relief and warmth fills him that he can barely hear the doctor as she continues.

“There was some pretty severe internal bleeding, but we got her stabilized. She also had a couple broken ribs, nothing that time and care won’t heal. After we do some more tests, she should be released in about a week. I can show you to her room, if you’d like?”

“Yes,” Harry cries.

When they reach Y/N’s room, Harry pauses outside and turns to his mother. Her eyes, noticing the confliction in his eyes, are soft and understanding. He never thought about seeing her in such a state until now, but least she’s still with him, his little fighter, just like Rhi.

“Mum, can I, uh…” He nibbles on his lip, holding his arms out.

“Course,” Anne says, moving the baby in his open arms.

“Hi, peach,” he says, smiling. She sleeps contentedly, her features relaxed. His heart twinges as she burrows herself into his chest, and he wraps the blanket a little tighter around her.

“We’ll go to the cottage and get some extra clothes for you all,” Gemma says, knowing that Harry needs this time alone. She tugs her mother, who hesitates but soon follows.

He expected her condition to be poor, but that doesn’t stop the burning in his eyes when he sees her, hooked up to what seems like dozens of machines, her face swollen, and stitches along her hairline; she looks so fragile, so broken, but her heart beat is strong, breathing steady. As if sensing her father’s discomfort, Rhi burrows further in his arms, snuffling lightly.

He settles in a chair next to Y/N’s bed, one hand holding hers while the other arm cradles his baby.

“Gave daddy a scare earlier, peach,” he coos. “Daddy’s sorry that he wasn’t there with ya.”

He promises her many things, that she’s safe, that nothing will ever happen to her, and that her mum is safe, too, but most importantly, he promises to be there for her. He cries silently, careful to keep the tears and painful jolts of his chest from waking Rhi. He just can’t help it. After the dust settles and the smoke is cleared, the gravity of the situation weighs on him: he could have lost the two most important people in his life, and he would not have been there.

A nurse stops by to bring a bassinet for Rhiannon and to check on Y/N, who is doing wonderfully, especially after such an invasive surgery.

Y/N wakes after about an hour, just as the sun peaks beyond the horizon. Harry is still up, of course, watching his girls, finding comfort in the heart monitor. He pushes the bassinet back and forth with his foot.

“H?”

He beams when he hears her voice, gravely and worn, but it’s her voice nonetheless, comforting and warm. He wishes that he could hold her and kiss her until his love heals her wounds, but he has to settle for holding her hand and kissing her forehead for the time being.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, tears slipping past her swollen eyes. “It happened so fast.”

“What are you sorry for, lovie? You did absolutely nothin’ wrong,” he says, brushing back her hair.

“You had to leave because I wasn’t being careful enough, and I—”

His heart aches, eyes glazing over. He hates that he made her feel like his job was more important than her.

“No, none of that,” he says, shaking his head. “That doesn’t matter. Listen, this was not your fault, and as far as tour goes, it’s not nearly as important as you two. I would drop everythin’ if you needed me to. There is nothin’ that I wouldn’t do for you. You know that, right? You both are my life, now; I made that promise the day we got married and the day she was born. You both are my number one priority, and I haven’t been treating you like it. For that, I’m so sorry.”

“Harry—”

“It was selfish of me to think that I could live in the past and the present, live the life that I used to while trying to be a father and a husband. It wasn’t fair of me, and I am so, so very sorry, babylove.”

He kisses her, careful of her bruises, and she sinks further into the bed, comforted by his warm words and tender touches. Her eyes, fluttering with exhaustion and filled with tears, refuse to close, as if she’s afraid that he’ll be gone by the time she wakes. He runs his thumb along her cheek, mindful of the swollen areas. For the first time in what feels like years, his mind is calm, basking in the feeling of happiness as he’s finally able to feel and see his family, safe and within his reach. That’s all he’s ever wanted, and as he sees her nodding off, he presses a quick kiss to her knuckles, whispering.

“Rest, lovie, I’ll be here. Don’t worry.”

She falls asleep with a faint smile.

Perhaps, fate isn’t cruel as many think. Just like anything, it can be merciful and loving for those who are worth mercy and love.

—

[the-lady-auri]

2020 Art Highlights

2020 Art Highlights

Thank you for tagging me @thishour and @mellar1l!! Please go check out her page if you haven’t already, her watercolors are breathtaking.

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

2020 was a crazy year and art kept me going. I’ll go in chronological order here because I think it’s fun to look at progress! I don’t remember what month some of these were and some of them may not be in the correct order so I apologize First two pieces of 2020 were these two. This one Nadine and Siegfried from @/soulbearrpg on twitter and twitch. Nadine is my character, a nephilim who’s mother was an elf and father is an archangel of the sun god. Second piece is Narmun and Bleddyn. two of my fey in my original setting. https://www.artstation.com/artwork/W2nXV3 https://www.artstation.com/artwork/zOPq3q

Next is a very poorly drawn/painted piece from february I think of my L5R character and her fiance at the duelist academy. pls ignore the bad anatomy and composition https://www.artstation.com/artwork/RYxOXe

I drew alot of commission work this year so personal pieces were few and far between until like... October. but here’s july I think Raiden, my shinobi for L5R, he is the most deadly himbo you’ll ever meet https://www.artstation.com/artwork/eaRxGw

An attempt at a classical study featuring Ruvaen sometime around september. https://www.artstation.com/artwork/QrWXVx

A few different takes of Chouno from late November and early December. One hades style drawing and two with my attempting a new painting style with a new brush.

 https://www.artstation.com/artwork/68eP26

https://www.artstation.com/artwork/B1n8Xk

https://www.artstation.com/artwork/B1n8Xk 

Another experiment in the new style and brush of an npc for my game. Xiao

https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Vg30A5

Everyone’s favorite Maiar

https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Xnzbr0

Another style experiment, this time with one of my fey, Ascher. The best boy

https://www.artstation.com/artwork/18WB0e

And one of the last pieces of December, Ruvaen with Glorfindel. I have done other images in similar style to this throughout the year but none of them were up to satisfaction like this one. https://www.artstation.com/artwork/3dBloJ

I don’t know who already got tagged so I’m going to leave this open for whoever wants to do it <3 Love you guys 

[lunatens]

lunaaa 🥺 omg it’s 1 am again hehe but fr it’s the best time to get sentimental- and w the rain ajdhsj ✨perfect✨AND YOURE SO FUNNYY ! ! have you even read ur sm!aus 😌 but ngl when I read ur reply MY HEART HIGHKEY SKIPPED 5 BEATS AND I aLMOST CRIED :’) ohhh to be lunas irl 🥺 but actually ahh carat irls are the best things everrr ahdhsj I just wanna stay awake all night watching svt content w a carat is that too much to ask for 😔

update it is now 3:30 am AHAHAH but yes it is such a good sentimental time 🥺🥺 and YAOJFJSJSJ ‼️‼️ incoherent noises i gotta go to bed

but omg yes i feel so bad for forcing my irl friends to listen to me CONSTANTLY go on and on about svt, my sisters love kpop too but they aren’t huge carats so like it’s not the same yk 😪 that truly sounds like the DREAM omg 🥺🥺 i want

OH ALSO UM I WILL NOT SHUT UP ABOUT THE EDIT/ART (idk words rn what best word is to use) U MADE FOR SWIMMING FOOL LIKE I AM FR DYING 😭😭😭😭💞💓 MY HEART CANT TAKE IT THANK U SO MUCH AAAH

i drew u a very quick babie joshie w a big ol heart that represents my own heart about to EXPLODE i’m sorry it is kind of uglee i just did it super fast after finishing homework and did not look at reference so pls ignore um Anatomy lol but i just wanted to show my APPEECIATION FOR U OK so that is why it’s rushed dkfjdksj ok i am going to bed goodnight ily

[hyucksoftie]

opposites | minho

genre: bad boy au, fluff, smidge of angst?

words: 1.5k

requested: no 👉👈

desc: being a bad boy, minho doesn't give a fuck about most things. so why would you think he cared about how different you two were?

a/n: omg...i resurrected. pls send requests to inspire me my inbox is empty🥺

—

Your eyes scan through the spines of the books, the tips of your fingers grazing them as you walk by. "There it is." You grab the book for your anatomy class and flip through it. The fast flipping allows you a whiff of the book's old, papery smell. "Boo."

You yelp and drop the book, the loudness of your voice and the fall of the book ringing through the library. Behind you someone laughs, their hands still on your waist. Your face contorted with anger; you knew that laugh. Slapping the hands off of you, you spin around and face none other than Minho. He's still chuckling to himself, his eyes smiling. If you weren't mad at him, you probably would have thought he looked cute.

"Stop laughing, this isn't funny! The librarian's probably going to kick me out- I have a book I need to check out, asshole!" You punch his chest with every word you say, glaring daggers at him. "Who cares? It's just a library. One of many." Minho grabs your hands to stop your punching. You blush at the contact but quickly push that feeling away.

"Don't touch me! I hate you so much, Minho." He picks up your fallen book (which was still on the floor) and smiles. "I know you do. You going to check that out or no? I'm trying to take you somewhere."

Huffing, you snatch the book from him and start walking towards the front, Minho on your trail. "Whatever it is, I can't. I have a class to go to." You hand the librarian your book and watches as she scans it for you. "So? I do too." You turn to him and give him a look. "I'm not like you, I actually care about maintaining my grades."

You thank the little old lady and grab your book. Minho was still following you. "We're polar opposites. I'm the "smart goody two shoes" and you're the bad boy. Why do you hang around me?"

"I don't care. I like you."

It surprises you how easy it is for Minho to admit something like that. Despite hearing him tell you he liked you almost every day, his words never failed to make you feel butterflies inside. "Minho..."

"What? It's true. I like you. A lot. Is it so bad to want to be around someone I like?"

You bite your lip, trying to hide your shy smile. "Well no, but..." He cuts you off. "No buts. Have a little fun, will you? Skipping one class won't do anything." Before you can disagree, Minho grabs your free hand and starts dragging you off. Right on time, classes end and students pile out of the rooms, walking to their next class. You and Minho sprint past everyone, heading towards the exit. You laugh as you do, the adrenaline exciting you.

Soon enough, you're out of school grounds and walking towards a nearby park.

Usually, you'd ignore Minho and his heart fluttering words, but today was different. Instead of dodging him and going to class anyway, you willingly let yourself tag along. Even though he was known for his bad behavior and cold attitude, he was sweet to you. It made you feel special.

The two of you sat down on the empty swings, softly rocking back and forth. The wind softly blew at your face, the hair behind your ear untucking itself.

"Y/N?"

You turn to face Minho, his eyes staring straight ahead. "Yea?" He faces you with a serious look on his face. The look that scares people away from him, makes them cower before him.

"You know I'm not playing around, right? I really do like you. My feelings are genuine."

With the tone of his voice, you knew he wasn't joking, you knew he really did like you. Your first instinct was to dodge him like usual, ignore his feelings and pretend they weren't real. But the way he was letting himself look vulnerable stopped you from doing so. Did you like Minho? Yeah. You did. You felt good around him. Then why deny him? Fuck it.

Smiling, you reach over and place your hand on his knee. His eyes soften, filling with wonder. You give his knee a squeeze, "I like you too, Minho."

The grin on his face makes you smile wider. He leans closer to you, hands going to your cheeks. You don't flinch or back away, just smile and let him near. "Can I kiss you?" His voice is soft, fingers tender against your skin. "Please."

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You feel time go slow as he continues to lean in. Just as you feel the ghost of his plush lips, you're thrown back, away from him. "What are you two doing out of school grounds?!" Stuttering, you try to explain to the teacher in front of you but it's no use.

"Detention!"

The room was dead silent, the only ones in the room being the teacher, you, Minho, and 2 other kids. You sigh and scribble the corner of your worksheet. It was supposed to distract you with a few math problems but you quickly went through them. You wish you hadn't, now you had nothing else to do.

Across the room sat Minho, his attitude different from yours. He was the complete opposite of you: entertained. While you sat and stared straight ahead, he scribbled away on his paper, tiny airplanes crowding his desk.

Your detention was after school and you dreaded going back home. You'd have to explain to your parents why you came home later than usual.

"Okay, you're all dismissed. Let this be a lesson to you." Minho gets up and heads your way, his scraps of paper left behind. You felt eyes on you two, just like when you walked into the detention room. You getting detention? Unexpected. You being around Minho? Even more unexpected. Minho seems unfazed, only giving a cold stare if their eyes linger longer than normal.

"Can I walk you home?" He asks the question as you're both heading out. A warm feeling spread through your cheeks. "Uh...yeah. Sure. That's alright."

Your time together went from minutes, to hours, to whole days. It was safe to say the both of you were together. Even if no one asked out the other, you were aware of each other's feelings. And that was enough.

It wasn't long until word got around. You felt unbothered when walking the halls with your arm linked with Minho's, but by yourself, you felt small. The stares and whispers were too much.

It was heaven being with him, but reality hit you. You two were so different. Polar opposites. He could care less about his education, but you cared a lot about it. You didn't mix well with his crowd.

"Y/N are you alright?" Minho's hand squeezes yours, eyes full of worry. You haven't touched your ice cream, opting to swish it around instead. "Mhm." You reply, shaking his hand off of yours. He looks at you weirdly. You most definitely weren't alright.

"What's-"

"I have to go. My parents need me home." He couldn't even let out a word, you were quick to disappear. You didn't even say goodbye or kiss his cheek like you usually would. Minho gets up and runs out of the tiny shop. "Y/N!" His scream is so loud. People walking by stop and give him a strange look, their brows furrowing. You stop in your tracks, but don't turn to face him.

He's quick on his feet, sprinting towards you. His soft hand grabs yours and in one swift movement he turns you around, wrapping you in his arms.

"Minho...let me go."

"No. Not until you tell me what's up with you. We were fine a week ago, and the week before that. Do you not like me anymore?" He sounds genuinely sad at the thought of that. Giving up, you wrap your arms around him. "No, not at all. I still like you a lot. It's just...aren't you embarrassed? We're so different. You should be with someone who's just like you and who blends in with you."

His fingers hook under your chin, he tilts your head up. He has the softest smile on his face. "Y/N, listen real good okay? Because what I'm about to say is very important."

"I don't give a fuck." You chuckle at his words, his smile growing at the sight of yours. "Sure, we're not exactly the same but does that really matter? Opposites attract. And no, I'm not embarrassed to be with you. My baby's smart and works hard, what about it? Whoever is feeding you these lies can go rot because we're perfect together."

"You mean that?"

He nods. Smiling, you lean forward and peck his lips. "Thank you."

Minho grabs your face and gives you a kiss of his own, this time longer and more loving. "No, thank you."

[chaosenticed-blog]

                      greetings  angels ! i’m  steven,  going  by  she/her  pronouns  and  miserably  lodged  in  the  pst  timezone,  also  currently  known  as  the  devil’s  taint  thanks  to  this  heatwave !  super  fun  !  pls  bear  with  me  ,  i’ll  be  up  everyone’s  asses  for  plots  with  my  lil  dudebro  shithead  𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘  ,  he’s  a  new  muse  of  mine  i’ve  conjured  up  bc  ethan  is  just  too  good  looking  to  not  utilize  ?  i’ll  keep  this  short  so  we  can  pull  a  queen  carly  rae  and  cut  to  the  feeling  ~

❛ chicago’s very own  𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘  𝖉𝖎  𝖌𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖉𝖎 has been spotted in new york city in his jeep wrangler blackhawk , welcome ! your resemblance to  ethan dolan is unreal. according to tmz, you just had your twentieth birthday bash. your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 , but being 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 might help you. i guess being a taurus explains that. three things that would paint a better picture of you would be 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘  𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋  𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒,  𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒  𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄  𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓  𝐈𝐍  𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃,  𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃  𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒  𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐒  𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃. & ( cismale & he / him / his )

aesthetic :  

playing  guitar  barefooted  in  a  hammock,  sun  kissed  skin  and  a  half-kept  beard,  knowing  all  the  vegan  options  at  the  city’s  boujiest  restaurants,  a  crooked  grin  saved  for  whoever  he  can  tell  needs  it  most,  overthinking  his  next  move  even  if  it  seems  completely  organic,  a  boyish  laugh  at  the  most  asinine  pranks,  c-’s littering  his  transcript ( except  the  a  earned  in  environmental  science,  his  elective  of  choice ),  calling  instead  of  texting  because  texting  “ loses  the  humanity, ”  casual  nights  spent  oversized  hoodies,  yellow  checkered  vans,  shorts  with  a  60-day  chip  in  the  left  pocket,  yelling  out  species  of  trees  passing  by  over  thumping  bass  beats  on  a  road  trip,  sweat  on  designer-clothed  skin  like  glitter,  doing  head  counts  of  “the  squad”  over  and  over  in  the  rear  view  mirror  on  the  way  home  from  a  rager,  random  stupid  tattoos  done “ for  the  memory, ”  intricate  handshakes  performed  with  ease.  acting  like  you  don’t  care,  but  you  do— god  you  do,  sometimes  so  much  it  consumes  you  whole.

inspired  by  :

jim  halpert from  the  office,  jackson  maine  from  a  star  is  born,  jim  hawkins  from  treasure  planet,  jackson  avery  and  owen  hunt from  grey’s  anatomy.

history :

born  to  a  major  chicago  councilman   father  and  a  ceo  mother,  the  middle  of  three  boys,  silas  found  himself  drawn  outside  until  the  sun  came  down,  connecting  to  whatever  the  earth  was  able  to  give  him  in  the  inhospitable  chicago  weather .  he’d  wander  aimlessly  for  hours,  guiding  his  twin  and  their  older  brother  through  the  trails  he  made  himself .  his  home  wherever  he  could  make  it  —  the  branches  of  creaking  trees at  the  park ,  the  caverns  of  frosted  caves ,  he  learned  to  be  content  with  the  little  things ,  humble  and  rooted  firmly  in  his  beliefs  of  morality  and  logic .  

it  was  never  exactly  fun  to  play  the  role  of  the  son  in  the  limelight,  eyes  on  his  family  whenever  his  parents  where  on  a  particularly  tricky  trip .  his  eldest  brother,  julien,  was  a  parent’s  dream  and  easily  took  up  a  political  career  without  any  complications .  balancing  in  the  shadow  of  his  eldest  brother  and  the  push  of  his  twin ,  silas  kept  his  own  hopes  and  dreams  on  the  back  burner ,  prioritizing  a  family  name  before  his  own  desires ( and  thus ,  the  apparition  begins. )

he  knows  the  eyes  are  on  him  to  carry  on  the  family  legacy ,  and  does  the  bare  minimum  possible  to  keep  his  uptight  parents  off  his  back .  he  went  to  the  private  schools ,  played  the  big  name  sports ,  mingled  with  the  a-listers .  he  fills  the  role  to  please  his  family  and  keep  the  peace ,  but  once  the  light  comes  off  him ,  he  pushes  off  against  the  prim  and  proper  upbringing  and  finds  his  own  stride .  though  he  takes  the  classes  and  attends  the  conferences  to  make  his  father  think  he’s  prime  for  having  his  name  in  the  news ,  silas  could  not  be  bothered  to  carry  the  illusion  on  into  the  rest  of  his  life .  nights  are  spent  at  raves ,  hiking  canyons  off  the  grid ,  indulging  himself .

yet  all  this  time  spent  trying  to  fit  into  a  future  he  never  asked  for  folded  over  on  him ,  as  one  would  readily  expect .  the  beginning  of  his  freshman  year ,  it  was  exposed  that  his  father  had  carried  on  with  an  affair  nearly  two  decades  ago  and  kept  it  secret  until  now ,  resulting  in  a  half-sister  close  to  his  age  and  an  onslaught  of  media  attention  on  his  once-pristine  family . now  ,  his  father  remaining  in  chicago  and  his  mother  moving  to  new  york  to  helm  her  medical  cosmetics  business  with  a  renewed  vigor  ,  silas  chooses  to  make  the  jump  to  new  york  wit  his  mom  .  to  his  chagrin  ,  she  notes  a  political  run  in  her  future  that  puts  silas  on  edge  ,  forcing  him  to  really  come  to  terms  with  living  the  life  his  family  will  forever  ask  of  him  .

never  one  to  particularly  enjoy  attention,  the  added  pressure  of  trying  to  repair  his  family’s  reputation ( and  keep  mum  on  the  bitter  divide  caused  within  his  family ) drove  him  to  a  point  where  anything  he  could  use  to  escape  would  become  a  viable  option .  smiling  for  cameras  and  keeping  up  appearances  in  public  led  to  binge  drinking  and  benders  galore  in  private ,  ultimately  ending  with  his  twin  brother  hauling  him  to  the  emergency  room  after  a  particularly  brutal  night .  a  stint  in  rehab  this  last  summer  ( explained  as  “ humanitarian  work  in  the  middle  east ”  ) led  to  silas’  newfound  perspective  on  life—  struggling  every  day  to  keep  in  mind  who  he  is,  and  who  he  feels  he  has  to  be  for  the  world .

personality :

silas’  upbringing  has  been  rocky  to  say  the  LEAST,  and  despite  half  the  shit  he’s  gone  through  he’s  managed  to  keep  a  pretty  solid  head  on  his  shoulders  ?

i’ve  been  playing  emo  broody  boys  so  often  i  wanted  to  switch  it  up  and  lowkey ? silas  is  a  breath  of  fresh  air  okay .  he’s  your  quintessential  frat  bro  but  with ~layers~ and  none  of  the  tragic  manic  pixie  dream  boy .  he  comes  across  as  a  reserved  and  non-talkative  kind  of  guy,  stoic  at  first  meeting,  but  with  time  and  comfort  people  find  he’s  really  just  a  cool  laid-back  dude .  he’s  the  dad  friend  of  the  group  and  spends  as  much  time  caring  for  others  as  he  can  possibly  allow  between  his  totally  booked  schedule  of  pretending  to  be  a  preppy  boy  and  literally  not  giving  a  shit  about  most  things.

he  loves  nature  and  hiking  and  being  outside  just  as  much  as  he  loves  a  good  party ,  which  is  where  festivals  and  the  rave  scene  come  into  play .  he  loves  sharing  good  energy  with  the  people  around  him  and  tries  to  keep  the  peace  within  his  circles.  silas  has  a  genuinely  kind  and  benevolent  heart ,  one  he  doesn’t  expose  readily  but  also  doesn’t  ignore .  he  uses  humor  and  quiet  observations  of  others  to  keep  himself  ahead  of  the  loop,  even  if  his  generally  bro-ish  personality  leads  people  to  believe  he’s  inattentive  or  ignorant .  he’s  responsible  and  mature  and  deeply  intelligent,  but  most  of  all,  has  common  sense  and  doesn’t  let  a  decision  be  made  without  weighing  the  pros  and  cons .

( for  the  most  part . )

silas  has  forever  been  recognized  as  inheriting  his  father’s  impulsivity ,  a  trait  he  absolutely  fears  after  seeing  the  terror  it  wreaked  on  his  family .  he  pushes  himself  to  be  smart  and  rational,  trying  to  see  the  logic in  all  things ,  and  tries  to  be  as  disciplined  as  he  can  manage .  when  other  factors  come  into  the  equation  though ,  he  struggles  to  keep  up  his  resolve  and  will  easily  lose  himself  in  the  moment .  he  has  an  addictive  and  ultimately  reckless  personality ,  which  led  to  his  addiction  and  consequential  rehabilitation .  he  tries  to  minimize  the  time  he  spends  with  people  that  may  lead  him  down  a  path  he  doesn’t  want  to  go  down ,  but  obviously  not  everything  goes  as  planned .

otherwise ,  silas  is  stubborn  but  considerate  of  others .  he’s  intelligent  and  creative but  very  poorly  motivated ,  mostly  doing  things  for  the  sake  of  his  family  and  letting  little  else  bother  him .  he’s  loyal  and  sensitive  to  the  emotions  of  others ,  but  is  the first  to  call  out  bullshit if  it  surrounds  him .  he’s  almost  painfully  mellow  and  is  notorious  for  not  having  buttons  to  press  lmao .  he  just  doesn’t  let  most  people’s  comments  get  to  him .  he  has  no  issue  in  cutting  out  the  things ( or  people )  he  has  no  interest  in  spending  his  time  on  and  can  come  across  as  a  bit  forward  in  this  regard .  he  can  be  hypocritical  and  overly  complex ,  having  conflicting  feelings  that  he  can’t  explain  or  rationalize  and  lead  to  him  snapping  or  breaking  down .  he’s  deeply  jealous  and  has  a  bad  habit  of  overthinking  and  not  letting  others  bear  his  burden  with  him .  

as  of  now,  silas  isn’t  sure  where  he  wants  to  take  his  future .  very  few  know  about  his  stint  in  rehab,  and  he  explains  his  lack  of  drugs  or  drinking  as  his  preparation  to  be  a  walk-on  for  the wrestling  team at  NYU  where  he  attends ,  as  his  mother  has  been  encouraging  him  to  pursue  in  order  to  build  a  fanbase  base  for  his  future  political  conquests .  currently,  he  does  modeling  for  a  casual  platform  and  represents  certain  brands  he’s  actually  rather  passionate  about .  he’d  LITERALLY  rather  d*e  than  go  into  politics,  and  is  eyeing  a  future  in  environmental  advocacy  or  ambassador  work ,  but  knows  this  is  not  a  future  aligned  with  the  di  grimaldi  legacy .  for  now ,  he  remains  at  a  crossroads ,  living  half  a  life  he  doesn’t  even  recognize ,  just  hoping  it’ll  manage  itself  on  its  own .

connections :

forbidden  ( 0/2 )  —  best  friend’s  gf ?  his  brother’s  ex ?  his  sister’s  best  friend ? basically  i  want  someone  who  silas  wants  but  can’t  have  because  of  another  relationship  that  could  REALLY  put  them  in  a  dangerous  spot  and  potentially  ruin  what  they  have,  but  it’s  all  hidden  glances  and  risky  snapchats  trying  to  gauge  where  the  line  is  and  where  it  can  be  crossed

exes  ( 0/? ) —  gimmie  angst,  gimmie  chill,  gimmie  people  who  mutually  broke  up  and  are  bros,  give  me  people  who  had  a  messy  split  and  it’s  still  touchy,  give  me  people  who  are  “ supposed  to  be  over ”  but  end  up  in  each  other’s  beds  at  the  end  of  every  other  night,  give  me  people  who  fucking  hate  each  other,  this  is  so  versatile  i’ll  take  anything.

“ gucci  shoes,  boy  i  invented  you ”  ( 0/1 )—  a  fake  gf  he  had  for  the  clout,  someone  who  really  helped  him  live  up  to  the  image  his  family  wanted  for  him,  basically  helped  “ make  him ” and  in  the  process,  she  fell  in  love  with  him.  did  he  feel  the  same  way ?  did  he  not  realize  it ? did  he  simply  not  reciprocate ?  either  way,  they  ended  poorly  and  now  she  resents  him  and  thinks  he’s  a  cowardly  piece  of  shit,  since  she’s  seen  the  “ real  him ”  vs  the  him  she  helped  conjure.  lots  of  tension  !

turn  up  team  ( 0/4 )  —  basically  : whos  gonna  go  rave  with  him  ?  he’s  not  gonna  roll  w  them  if  drugs  are  involved  but  he’ll  enjoy  his  adrenaline  high  with  pleasure.  these  are  people  who  aren’t  close  enough  to  him  to  pressure  him  into  doing  drugs  again,  so  he  feels  okay  with  going  out  with  them  since  there’s  little  to  no  risk  he’ll  relapse

squad  (  0/3-4  )  —  i’m  thinking  a  small  group  of  people  who  he’s  just  always  likely  to  be  found  with,  these  are  the  people  who  matter  most  to  him  and  u  can  hella  catch  him  fathering  them  almost  to  an  ANNOYING  extent.  they  get  to  see  the  best ( and  sometimes  the  worst )  of  him,  but  he’d  do  anything  for  his  squad

devil  on  his  shoulder  ( 0/2 )  — this  can  be  as  intentionally  or  unintentionally  toxic  as  u  want,  but  i’m  basically  envisioning  two  people  who  really  tempt  silas  to  risk  it  all.  maybe  they  want  him  to  dive  back  into  the  hedonistic ��side  he  has ( he  was  wild  and  lots  of  people  lowkey  hyped  him  up  for  it ) and  it’s  gritty  and  sexy  and  dark.  maybe  this  person  doesn’t  even  realize  they’re  a  trigger  for  him  and  unintentionally  send  him  close  to  the  edge.

sponsors / confidants  ( 0/2 )  —  i’m  envisioning  a  team  of  3  who  have  been  THROUGH  it  with  the  substance  abuse,  maybe  they  stage “ improvised  meetings ” whenever  they  need  to,  maybe  these  are  just  two  people  who  want  to  make  sure  silas  stays  clean  because  they  know  how  badly  he  needs  it  and  how  dangerous  it  would  be  for  him  to  relapse

vlog  squad  ( ? )  —  my  idea  is  that  silas  and  his  twin  brother  are  youtubers,  and  silas  is  a  BIG  paranormal  shit  guy.  it’s  like  the  perfect  intersection  of  talking  about  nature  and  exploration  without  making  him  seem  like  a  hippie  tree-hugger  and  raise  any  objections  from  his  parents,  so  maybe  he  has  like  a  little  group  similar  to  the  vlog  squad  where  they  share  a  channel  and  they  have  a  small  following?

i’m  putting  in  a  wc  for  his twin  brother  and  his  half-sister so  peep  THOSE

sibling-like  friendship,  booty  calls,  hookups,  people  he’s  in  a  club  on  campus  with,  childhood  friends,  maybe  a  penpal  he  had  after  moving  around  from  place  to  place ?

please  literally  give  me  anything  that  makes  me  smile  or  suffer ?  and  all  in  between .  muah  lov  u  all  can’t  wait  to  rp  !

[justanotherbuckydevotee]

lostmyhead - part 3

Word Count: 2,580  words. Prompt : Lovecraftian – Horrible and indescribable platonic love. Or in which you don’t know how to deal with your emotions. Warning(s): Angst. Reader being selfish (im sorry) A/N: SO LIKE IDK . My Final next submission for @hellomissmabel‘s 2k Birthday Celebration. Happy reading! Any feedback/criticism would be welcomed (like seriously this got out of control pls tell me what you think i don’t mind if its gonna hurt me). ps this isnt proofread. its 1.27 am and i have class in the morning im sorry for any mistakes! 

masterlist || series page  The Prologue || Part 1 || part 2 || Part 3 || part 4 

** gif not mine ** 

It’s late at night (or was it really early morning?) when Bruce comes out of one of the operating room, bringing good news about the other super-soldier of the Avengers team.

“It’s a strong sedative. Any normal human being could’ve been killed with the amount he was given, but he’ll be okay” Bruce explains, making Steve release a sigh that’s been constricting his chest, tightening his shoulders when he waited.

“He’ll wake up soon” Bruce adds, “I suggest only a couple of you at a time. He’ll be a little…” he continues, a hand gesturing to his head as he waves it around in circles. “Confused” he finishes his sentence.

A moment of silence follows, a heavy stillness that nobody dared to move, one other question lingering in their heads but are too scared to ask.

“And (y/n)?”

Bruce takes off the glasses that was perched on the bridge of his nose, fidgeting with it. There was no delicate way to deliver the news about you. “She’s… They’re still in the operating room”

Everyone held their breathe.

“The wound on her leg is easy. But the one on her hip is complicated. We don’t know if it’ll affect her ability to walk, whether it’s temporary or permanent. The injury she sustained on her head is” Bruce pauses, still not looking up at his team mates.

“It’s difficult to assess” he words.

Again, silence. Nobody knew what to say, trying to process everything that’s been said.

“Thank you” Steve breaks the heavy air with his words, before taking long strides to Bucky’s room. Bruce could only nod, eyes following the trail of Steve until the door to Bucky’s room is gently closed. It’s only after that did he look to the eyes of each of his team mates.

Wanda is biting her fingernails, a distant look in her eyes with an arm crossed against her chest. Sam is leaning against the wall deep in thought, his engineered backpack on the ground of his feet. Clint is right next to Natasha, both looking solemn.

“You guys should rest for a bit. It’s been a long day”. With that, he leaves.

Clint is mumbling words to Natasha, encouraging her to change and rest as he waits for more news of you. She’s shaking her head in protest. Sam looks utterly exhausted as he brings his hand over to his forehead.

“You guys should go. I’ll wait here” Wanda announces, taking a step from where she was only to look over the others. “I’ll come get you if anything happens” she continues, speaking to them but her eyes fully locked with Nat’s.

It’s all she can offer, and with what the day had entailed. Wanda was relieved to see them one by one caving into the need of their bodies. Natasha was the last to go, whispering tiredly to Wanda “please get me first, okay?”.

The smell of alcohol and medicine made Wanda feel all the more anxious, as she sits on the edge of her seat, waiting for more news. Her eyes kept going to the double-doors whenever a staff came in or out, scrubs slightly stained before disappearing down the end of the hallway before re-appearing again with a medical cart. She clasped her hands tightly, almost as if in prayer when Steve comes out of Bucky’s room. He looked drained but he can’t make it show that’s he’s actually scared right now, not when the youngest Avenger is sitting across the operating theatre alone.

“Hey” Steve greets, taking the seat next to her. “Why aren’t you in your bed? It’s late” “I promised them I’ll wait”

He could only nod.

“How’s Bucky?” “He’s okay. He’s finally asleep”

The double-doors swing, a team of doctors and nurses filing out, a gatch bed with machines and wires tangled with each other and on it is you. They’re pulling you to a room next to Bucky, passing by Steve and Wanda. Their eyes fall on you; head wrapped with a bandage, a breathing ventilator tube down your throat, eyes closed shut.

Dr. Cho stops in front of them both, still in her scrubs and begins explaining what Bruce couldn’t manage to tell them.

“It’s the only thing I could do. I’m sorry” Dr. Cho mumbles, eyes shining with guilt. Steve is quick to react calmly, saying “You’ve done everything you could”. She looks at Steve for a moment, as if wanting to disagree. She felt she could do more, but the brain is the most complex organ of the whole human anatomy. She blinks, looks down, then moves her feet to her office.

Wanda stayed with you long after Steve has left, suggesting he should rest up too. Dragging a chair closer to you, she places her hand gently on yours, breathing in deeply as she closes her eyes.

There’s somebody behind her, a translucent shape.

“Why aren’t you coming back?” Wanda asked without turning around. She knows who it is.

“I had someone to find first” the figure said, taking slow steps to stand before Wanda. Her palm reaches Wanda’s shoulder, but it can’t really reach her, can’t physically place her touch in this world. A mere ghost of a being.

“But Bucky is back” Wanda announces, head finally turning to see you. The one in front of Wanda now looked better than the one laying on the bed. “So why can’t you return?”

You give her a weak smile. “I’m not too sure I want to come back this time, Wan” you confess.

You take her stunned silence as your cue to continue, to explain. “When I didn’t see him, when I thought he was gone, I couldn’t see anything worth fighting for. I would’ve gladly let that agent do whatever he wanted to me”

“It’s when I realized how much I cared for him. Deeply. More than just friends who look out for one another. More than just friends who understand each other. I don’t ever want to know how it feels like to lose him after this. But he can’t” you stop yourself, eyes closed shut to try and calm yourself from the on-coming wave of emotions that would undoubtedly have an effect on your physical body.

“If I come back, what good would having this feeling do to me? He has someone now; he has Yvy, Wan, and I’m so happy that he’s finally happy” you continue, sadness marring your facial features. “But it also pains me because I won’t ever have that with him. I’ll just be his friend, sure someone he cares about, but not the one he loves”

“But he does love you, (y/n). Can you not see that?” Wanda retaliates. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t love me like I want him to”

Wanda is trying to understand what you’re saying, trying to process the idea of you not coming back to this world, to this team, back home. She feels a painful twist in her chest, pricking her heart.

“So you’re just going to leave?” she asked. She had to. It felt like losing Pietro again, but the difference here is that Pietro didn’t have a choice. You did. You could come home, deal with whatever it is you’re feeling instead of running away. The pricking in her heart suddenly changes to simmering anger; you had the option to live and yet here you were deciding to be a coward and run. She hated you for wanting this, for having an option.

“You’re going to be a coward, and leave us?” she pushes when you’ve yet to answer. The air is thick now once realization dawns on you at how selfish you were being. Wanda abruptly stands up, the chair pushed forcefully behind her.

“It’s your choice. Say hi to Pietro for me”

This goes on for days; you remain in your astral form, looking down at your body as it rests and heal. You spend most your time confined here, not wanting to leave far with the fear that someone –or something sinister, decides to take your unprotected physical form as its host.

The last time you interacted was when Wanda closed the door to your room, leaving you to wallow in her last painful words.

“Say hi to Pietro for me”

So you stay. You stay and watch the aftermath of what would be if you decide to leave. Wanda is the only one who knows of your ability.

You smile faintly at how she discovered, or rather how you decided to reveal your secret to her. She was devastated at the loss of her twin, the speedster you always hear about from Clint, during the weeks you first met her.

“Did you hear that?” Bucky asked just as his hand grasped the knob of your door. You quirk an eyebrow at him before shaking your head, slightly confused. He moves his head closer to your door and for a moment he stays like that. You stand up as quietly as you could, fearing something bad was going on outside when Bucky has yet to say anything.

“Bu-“ his name barely comes out of your mouth when he raises a hand to your direction, his lips mouthing ‘sshhh’. A moment of total silence follows before the worry in his eyes disappear, his features softening before he looks at you.

He hesitates for a moment, but then decides to say “I think someone’s crying”

Immediately you walk over to him, peeling your door and motioning for him to stay there. Even though you absolutely hated being the mother hen –believing the title is rightfully Steve’s, you did have a tendency to act like one. So you tiptoed your way up the hallway, straining your ears to pick up the muffled sobs from one of the doors.

You stop dead in your tracks when you find the source.

It’s Wanda.

Bucky, who ignores your request to stay put, looks at you anxiously. You lick your lips, unsure whether you should go in or knock on her door. Clint has told you about this, had told you to look out for her during the times he wasn’t there. He’d given you a list of things that help her mind off of it, and one of the things he suggests doing was to just be by her side.

So that’s what you did. You found her curled at the corner of her room, in her arms an article of clothing. Your hand reaches her shoulder cautiously, and when she doesn’t jolt away from your touch, you pull her slowly into your arms. Thankfully Wanda doesn’t hesitate, crashing her body to yours.

Bucky takes it as his cue to leave, closing the door to Wanda’s room.

You hold her as she mourns the death of her brother, her twin, the only family she ever knew for the longest time. The black and white track jacket was wedged in-between you both. The room is filled with her pain, and you do your best to hold her, comfort her.

“I miss him. So much” she whimpers as you stroke her hair.

It’s a heart-breaking thing to listen to her say it, the absolute heart-ache she feels clearly present bringing you to tears.

It happened naturally; one moment the room is dark and depressing, and the next there’s a dim glow to everything in sight. Next to her you see a young man with silver hair, his blue eyes swimming with unshed tears as he looks down at his sister.

“Then talk to him” you whisper when the person next to you realizes you can see him.

That was the night that got you closer to Wanda, and the night she finally said her goodbye to Pietro. The small smile you wore is now completely torn off of your lips. How could you have been so selfish? Here you were having the ability to continue living while others do not. Here you were wasting a life when others had theirs taken from them. You look at your body again, knowing how easy it is to just come back.

But then you see Bucky.

Bucky is both a reassuring and aggravating presence. You’re thankful that he remains by your side when he can, giving your heart an empty promise at the sight of him next to you for hours on end. But that, of course, is shattered when he leaves, where the others take his place. It exhausts you, drains you out of energy that it leaves your astral form lying on the floor to rest.

On the fourth day he remains longer than usual, saying nothing and letting the only noise in the room be from the heart monitor and respiratory machine. He stays glued on the chair next to you, this time without a book in hand.

And, this time, a little more agitated.

He’s wringing his hands together –a noticeable habit shared among people with anxiety, that it pained you even more. You push yourself closer to him, wanting so badly to comfort him, to say you’re sorry for being like this.

“I’m sorry” he croaks, guilt drenched in the words that stumble out of him next.

Four days.

It took you four days to realize the severity of your action. None of this was his fault yet here he was, sitting on that chair feeling the weight of guilt crushing his soul. None of this was his fault because he’d done everything he could. None of this was his fault because the decision was in your hands.

It took you four days to recognize the torture Bucky went through at seeing you like this. He’s looking at your weak form, lying unconscious on a hospital bed, delicate tubes and wires running around your body. The agony he must’ve endured throughout these four days finally dawned on you when he’s looking at in this moment.

You see him leaning forwards slowly, calculatedly. Then pauses for a brief moment.

“I-“ but he doesn’t continue, leaving you confused. I what? You thought. Then the door is pulled open, where Natasha and Wanda comes in before he leaves.

You follow him out, forgetting about the consequences of such action, the vulnerability you’ve put your body to just to follow him to his room.

And just like the days he left, you can feel your heart being torn apart piece by piece.

You see Bucky slide easily into his bed, hands wrapped around the waist of a beautiful women. He kisses Yvy’s back. When he closes his eyes, you can see the difference her presence has on him; the worried line and frown that marred his face is gone, his feature softening.

He looked so at peace, so calm next to the girl he loves that it makes you completely forget why you should stay. It hurts you now more than ever. He’s finally happy, so why can’t you be happy for him? Isn’t it your duty, as a friend, to support him no matter what?

Rationality isn’t of utter importance to you right then and there as you force yourself to tear your gaze away, to will yourself back to the room where you laid, wanting nothing more than to just go forget.

To forget. It’s what you wanted –to forget a time where your feelings towards Bucky was anything but platonic, to not remember a time where you craved to have him as yours.

And you know exactly who to turn to.

read final part >> part 4

tagging: Angst Royalty Babes @hellomissmabel @captnbarnesrogers @barnes-heaven @minervaem @alphaabucky @rotisserierogers @buckyywiththegoodhair @heartmade-writingbucky @buchananbarnestrash | Permanent babes @lovely-geek @iamwarrenspeace @thefridgeismybestie @httpmcrvel | For This Series @sebstanwassup @cami23593 @chuckennuggets1213 @elorajaii @exploratiionist @southern-frued-chicken @mizzzpink @violence-and-velvet @lloeppky @cam0flug3

If you’d like to be tagged in anything, please send an ask. Thank you!

[cefstickles]

Sensitive Studies

Hey everyone!! My first fic in a week! This is based off the prompt:  “If you’re still doing requests could u pls do one where Patton corrects Logan, upsetting him, so Logan pins him down (or ties him down) and lists off scientific names for body parts while tickling him mercilessly?” -Anonymous.

I may have strayed from the prompt a little bit by adding a few of my own features. But I still hope you enjoy it! So without further ado, please enjoy:

Sensitive Studies:

(Ships): Logicality if you squint

Words ~ 1,999 ~

Thomas sat in his local library, studying for his midterm in Anatomy that he needed to take that friday. If one had been walking past him, they would have seen him diligently typing away on his laptop. But if they could read his mind, they would have seen an entirely different scenario.

“Do we have to do this right now?” Roman leaned both elbows on his wooden desk and questioned Logan who was currently standing at the front of the room, using a ruler to point at the chalkboard. All three aspects were sitting at wooden desks in a line, obviously bored out of their minds. Well, Virgil and Roman were bored out of their minds. Patton, however, was paying attention.

“Would you rather have Thomas fail this test and retake the class Roman?” Logan looked to the fanciful trait coldy. It seemed even the teacher himself was having a hard time with this study session.

Virgil groaned. “Ugh. Look Logan. It's four o'clock pm. Thomas is distracted. I am distracted. We’re all distracted. There’s people around and Thomas’s social anxiety is acting up.” The darker aspect motioned to himself. “Let’s just accept that this is all pointless and that we’re gonna flunk.” Virgil slammed his head on the desk just to emphasize the fact that he was tired.

“Aww c’mon Anxiety! He will do just fine! We can push through it!” Roman and Virgil only groaned at Patton’s encouragement, however no one caught the small, mischievous smile carefully spreading across the moral aspect’s face.

“Yes. Thank you Patton. Now as I was saying,” Logan pointed his meter stick back at the chalkboard, unaware of what Patton was really trying to accomplish. “Inside of the leg there are two major bones: the fibula which is the main supporting bone of the shin, and then a shorter, thinner bone located on the outside of the fibula which is known as the-”

“Tibia honest Logan, I think you got your terms mixed up.”

Logan slowly faced Morality with a confused expression. “Erm…wha-ohhhh.” As the rest of the sides in the room gave a snort, Logan groaned. “Patton...really? Now of all times you decide to ‘drop’ a pun?”

“What’s the matter Teach? The pun was only an added BONE-us to your lecture!”

Yes. Logans eye did twitch. He tried to think of a snarky comeback, but was unsuccessful.

“Calseeum coming fast enough, Logan?” Patton wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

“Patton!! Stop. You are not helping! And I am right about the tibia being the thinner bone!” He pointed back to the chalkboard, completely convinced he was right. Virgil leaned over to whisper something in Roman’s ear.

“...yerkes-dodson…” The fanciful trait had to cover his mouth for fear of the giggles that would escape. Luckily, neither Patton or Logan was paying attention to them.

“Really? Haha. Well, maybe you should check the notes just to be sure.” Patton gave the logical aspect a knowing smirk as the latter grumbled.

Thomas abruptly stopped typing, and checked the textbook in front of him. Eyes widening, he realized the information stored in his mind about the fibula and tibia had been reversed. With a sigh of relief and recollection, he corrected the mistake, in his mind and on his laptop.

“Hahahahah!!! Patton was right! Logan was wrong!” Roman shouted as he flipped his desk and laughed heartily.

“OOOOHHHHH!!!!” Virgil pulled up an MLG Airhorn app on his phone and fired it about 10 times. Quite frankly, Logan was not amused.

“Hey Patton! What are the chances of this happening?” Roman continued to tease the Logical aspect.

“Gee, I dunno Roman. Maybe...infinitesimal?” Patton giggled cutely.

“Ugh! Both of you! Out! You are not helping!” With a snap of his fingers, Logan sent the fanciful and anxious aspects back to the mind palace before they even had time to react. “You weren’t really necessary anyways.” He scoffed towards their previous locations, before turning to the moral aspect.

“Awww Logan. That wasn’t necessary.” Patton pouted and stood up from his desk. “Even if Roman isn’t necessary for this midterm, Virgil still is.”

“Perhaps, but I am not in the mood to deal with anyone’s silliness at the moment.”

“Does that mean we get a little study break, before we tickle our memory with some quiz questions?” Patton chuckled as Logan stopped in his tracks, but suddenly grew confused when the logical aspect continued to remain silent.

“Hmmm...that is not a bad idea Patton.” Logan finally turned back towards Patton, but instead of looking at him, he had his nose in a version of Thomas’s notes.

“The study break is not a bad idea?” Patton grinned.

“No.” Logan replied cooly. He walked past Morality, completely ignoring the perplexed look on his face.

“Uhhhh Logan? What are you thinking?” Patton was growing nervous. Without saying anything, Logan snapped his fingers and a plethora of things happened at once.

The door disappeared. The desks had been scrunched together. And four mechanical arms came out of the walls, grabbing Patton by the wrists and ankles.

“Wo-woah!!!” Patton cried in terror as the four arms lifted him off the ground and laid him face up on the scrunched up desks. “L-logan!! What’s happening?” Patton used struggle, but it was not very effective.

During this whole ordeal, Logic didn’t even look up once. He just continued walking around, occasionally turning a page of the notebook he was holding, mumbling to himself. It was only after a minute that Patton had asked his question Logan decided to lift his head and look him straight in the eyes. “Ah. I see you are confused. Well, this is my dream space and I do have control over what goes on in here.” He lowered his gaze back into the notes.

“B-but Logan, what are you going to do?” Patton felt a small breeze daintily dance into his armpits, causing him to shudder.

“Why I’m only doing what you suggested…” He turned around and faced the moral aspect with the straightest face he could muster. “...tickling our memory. You see...we have finished all of our regular studying, and all thats left is the matching portion of the midterm. And because you are oh so smart,” at this point, Logan did begin to smirk. “And decided it a good idea to give your input, why wouldn’t I take it?” He closed the notebook and set it aside, the breath of the moral aspect shortening with each action he took. The pieces had clicked into place a long time ago.

“But Logan! There are tons of other ways to study! W-why this one?” Patton began to sweat.

Logan scanned Patton’s body. “Well, I already gave the reason, but if you must need another, I understand you enjoy getting tickled by means of knismesis and gargalesis.” Logan’s smirk grew as Patton blushed and gulped, deciding to shut his mouth and not respond.

Logan snapped and two more mechanical arms appeared and stripped Patton of his footwear and socks. The logical trait pulled out a feather and immediately ran it across the top of Patton’s feet. “We begin with the pedal area, also known as the top of the feet.” Patton held his breath and with it the tiny giggles too.

“Then we travel to the tarsal,” the feather trailed to the instep of Patton’s foot. “Down to the calcaneus or also known as heel.” In a U-shape pattern the feather traced the edge of his feet clockwise back up to his toes. Patton clenched his eyes and mouth shut, attempting not to encourage his tormentor. His plan wasn’t working.

Logan let the feather rest right on the outside of his toes. “Do you remember what the scientific word for ‘toes’ are Patton?” Even in his teases the Logical aspect was professional.

“Carpals?” Patton squeaked as Logan’s smirk formed itself into a grin.

“Wrong answer.” The feather being discarded from Logan’s hand allowed his fingers to wiggle daintily underneath Patton’s toes, a mixture of scuttling and stroking. Patton’s giggles bursted out and escalated quickly.

“Nohohhohohohohhohh!!! Uhuhuhuuhuhuh DIGITALS!! Ehehehehe! Its Digitaahahhals!!” Patton thrashed and shouted the answer that came to his mind, trying to get away, but the mechanical arms stood their ground.

Logan stilled his hands and retrieved the feather. “Very good. I must say Patton. This was a brilliant idea.” Oh there was no mistaking it. Logan was definitely enjoying himself.

“Nohohohohoh more!!” Giggles continued pouring out of Patton’s mouth, even though Logan was not touching him.

“No more? But we have so many more terms to cover.” He motioned to the notebook. “But, it would be in your best interest to answer the rest of the questions I ask correctly. Which shouldn’t be a problem, for someone as smart as you. Now let’s continue.” Logan fired his shots and lowered the feather onto one of Patton’s ankles. “Here is the talus, and as it extends upwards it becomes the sural or calf.” It traced up his leg and stopped to examine it closely. “Now if my memory serves me correctly this is the tibia and this is the fibula. Am I correct?” He squeezed the different parts respectively.

“Yehehehehehs!!!!” Patton almost squealed and nodded his head frantically.

“Very good. Just checking.” He continued stroking the feather up Patton’s leg. “This should be your crural.” Once he got to the hem of the moral traits shorts, he set the feather back down and placed his hands gently on Patton’s thighs. “Tell me three scientific names of body parts covered by your shorts, begin.”

“Wehehehehll okay, theres AHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHH!!! Nohohohohhohoho FAHAHAHAHAHIR!!!” Logan began squeezing Patton’s thighs rapidly.

“I’m not hearing any names Patton. I’m not stopping until I do.”

“AHAHAHAHH!! Fihiihihihne!! Feheheehehmoral, Pehehehehrineal, AAHAHAHAH COXAHAHAHAHAHLL!!! STAHAHAHAHAP!!” Like he promised, Logan ceased his attack and returned to the feather.

“Well done. Next is the abdominal region.” Patton panted and squeaked as he felt Logan lift up his shirt, the feather swirling up into his chest area. “Pectoral and sternal are quite similar.” Patton continued giggling at the tickling sensations. “Not much to say here, but I forgot something quite important.” Patton’s giggles rose with anticipation as the feather trailed back down to his tummy, right into his belly button.

Patton snorted and desperately tried to get away from the devilish feather, but was still unsuccessful. “What is this called Patton?” Yes Logan was still smirking.

“BELLY BUTTON!!!” Blushing, Patton’s laughter bubbled out.

“That is a correct term, but not the right terminology in our case. Perhaps this will prompt you.” Logan bent down to the Patton’s navel and blew a raspberry right on it. Patton squealed.

“AYEEEEEE!!! OHOHHOHKAYYYY!!! UMBILLICUHUHUHUHS!!”

“Ah. There we go. Was that so hard?” He stood back up and tossed the feather on the floor. “For the last few minutes of this study session, we will quickly cover the last few body parts in Thomas’s notes. Are you ready?”

“Nohohohohohohohoo!!!” Patton was blushing and shaking his head violently.

“Great! Name this.” Logan’s hands shot straight up into Patton’s armpits, peaking his laughter once again.

“AHAHHAHAHAHAH AAHAHAHXILLARY!!!”

“Good. And this?” Logan’s hands dived into Patton’s neck earning a couple soft squeals from the moral aspect.

“CERVIHIHHIHIHCALLL!!!”

“And finally...this?” Logan’s wiggling fingers were reduced to one soft stroking finger underneath Patton’s chin.

“Heeeheeheehee mental…” Patton closed his eyes and just smiled, enjoying Logan’s soft touch.

“And we are finished.” Logan stilled his fingers and snapped, returning the room to the state in which it once was. The mechanical arms released the moral trait and set him upright on the floor, in which he almost collapsed, but the logical aspect caught him.

“I would say today’s study session was very...effective.”

“Youhohohohh did ahahahll that on purpose.”

“Perhaps I did…” Logan was still smirking.

Thomas finished typing up his notes on his laptop, grinning widely. After checking they were all correct, he saved his work, closed his laptop, gathered his things, and set out for his apartment. It had been a very productive study session.

[aloesighs-blog]

Hey! I saw you got accepted into Sheridan animation!! So firstly, congrats! Second, I have a question. How did you improve (like what did you do?)over the year between applying from last year to this year? I applied for my first time this year and got rejected, and scored pretty badly (46% ; 3; ) but I want to work hard and improve for next year but don't know where to start :O

hey there!! thank you tho omg aisoduf but!! okay so, this might get kind of long but i’ll definitely do my best to give you some solid advice!

so my background in art when i first applied was really…..really…….limited. i went to a catholic high school that didn’t put much stock in the arts (we were pretty stereotypical in the sense that it all the focus was on set on things like sports and science), so i was pretty clueless when it came to things like line quality, perspective, proper proportions…. all the basic foundations of art, essentially. i knew i always wanted to get into animation, but i never really took art seriously until the summer before i started my senior year when it finally hit me that i had to apply in the upcoming months. PLEASE please please if u love yourself pls don’t do what i did my first time and let your anxieties cripple you and procrastinate; that was a huuuge part of why my score was so low the first time (i don’t think they had percentages last year???? i just remember i got either a 1.45 or 1.75, and i thought that was the profs being generous ngl haha….) and even this time around i still did that a little. it’s not worth the stress honestly pls just start as early as you can.

aaand onto the advice:

every day for a month, fill up a page in your sketchbook! or, even better, do it for more than one month! it really, really helps honestly….and it’s fun! the more often you draw, the better. when i first applied, i was lucky to draw once a month - and it showed. the more you draw, the better! and if you’re having a bad art day or you’re busy, then just try and get one quick drawing done. anything counts!

consider art fundamentals and visual creative arts. unfortunately it can be very expensive with tuition and supplies, but personally i found art fundies to be a huge part of my improvement; like i said before, i lacked a lot of the foundations in art and fundies was able to teach them to me. i also really enjoyed some of the assignments, which made me realize that i really did want to pursue art as a career (i was heavily considering film before) which in turn made me work harder. i also found that being in an environment with other art students who actually cared about art and wanted to be there and get into similar programs helped a lot. that being said, i also know a lot of people also weren’t a huge fan of it art fundamentals and said that it did absolutely nothing for them. it’s different for everyone, so don’t take my word for it; talk it over with your family. also note tho that if you are considering these two, vca and fundies are very similar from what i’ve heard, the only main difference (i think) being that vca is 2-3 years long and fundies is just one. 

portfolio tutours! they’re awesome! i was lucky enough to find a fourth year animation student who was offering sessions ( thank you so much gabi!!! ) and i owe a huge part of my success to her. if you’re going to sheridan next year it wouldn’t hurt to track down a tutour, and from what i’ve heard there’s quite a few animation students that are eager to offer their services!

LIFE DRAWING CLASSES! i never took any of these till i got into fundies, and trust me - you’ll need them. they help with everything; proportion, posing, anatomy, line quality….. and they’re fun to go to! if you’re in vca or fundies they offer extra life classes for free, and they run from 6pm-9pm on weekdays (there’s also one saturday morning session from 10am-1pm i think?).  

HAVE FUN! i know this sounds super lame but the more fun you have with your art the more you’ll enjoy it and the more you’ll want to do it. and in the long run, that really shows! it’s also a good way to loosen up i find? i used to be really stiff and a tiiiiny bit of a perfectionist when i drew; don’t do that. not every drawing is going to look amazing, so just draw!

and if you’re anything like i was and you’re worried about having a specific style, here’s a bit of advice that i read in a book somewhere that really stuck with me. it went : “don’t try to develop a style. ignore style. just concentrate on the drawing and style will just occur.”

so there u go!! ! that got really long i’m so sorry but i hope that answered your question! good luck with your art and don’t worry that you didn’t get in this time. most people get in after two or three tries, and there’s always next year :)

[aquarianlights]

you get anything cool for xmas? I guess my family are over giving presents, since we're adults. at most my sis gave me iron on cat patch 😅

I saw that!!! It looked so cute omfg 😍😍😍

I got some of my car fixed for christmas so I could actually be able to drive home in time for the next semester to start LOL

No but really that was a huge gift coz I couldn't have afforded that by myself. Also I mentioned like a year or two ago that I wanted an alexa or something of that nature and as you know, she had me pick out the one I wanted on amazon when things were financially okay months ago and that was my "official" christmas present even though it was given like 2 or 3 months in advance. I chose the echo spot and I have been lost without it while on this vacation honestly lol. I didn't realize how much I had integrated that thing into my life until I drove down here to help my parents out with the move over my winter break only to discover all these things I normally ask it to do or answer for me... suddenly, I can't ask it to do or have to physically type in on my phone 🤨 Which is SO "first world problem weh" but I'm just kinda shocked coz that was just normal way of life up until a few months ago and I honestly didn't think it had made that big of a difference in my life until I came down here. Man oh man. Lol. I do love my echo spot, though. 🥰

Did I even rant about this on fb? My car died literally the second I got here and I didn't even know it.

My check engine light had been on for a month or so and I didn't have the money to take care of it coz it was thousands of dollars of work that needed to be fixed so I figured as long as it was driving and not like... doing anything different than normal, it was fine. 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ Idk anything about cars so I just hope for the best most of the time honestly. 😩😭😭😭 The mechanic told me that the only reason I even made the 12 hr drive here is because my car never had time to cool off whenever I stopped since I was just stopping to take Echo out to pee and walk him and stretch and whatever. But when I got here and let my car cool off overnight, the park that was almost broken completely snapped in half and it was this tube thing connected to this box thing that holds all this fluid stuff..... basically like the aorta on top of the heart. And it looked like the aorta had just been snapped with scissors somewhere along the ascending aorta and all the blood just leaked out all into the body and then you had internal bleeding and well....that's bad. Really bad. Translate that into car language and you have what happened. At least...that's the gist of what I understood, I think. 😅😅😅 Along with some other stuff underneath the car being snapped and broken that wasn't like...essential to my cars survival but helped a *ton* (like the thing that makes it drive steady... I think it's called uh... suspension???? Idk) that they tried to patch up as it has uh... been a real problem (anyone who has ridden in my car since I've driven on NOLA roads, you'd know lol). But the stuff under the hood really uh... coulda stranded me. So I'm really glad I made it. Coz Idk what I would have done if I had made it...say...8 hrs out and my car gave out on the freeway with stuff packed for me AND Echo for a 2 week stay and Echo and all his food/water/essentials in the frontseat with me. Like..... idk man. Lmao. 😵😵😵 I've been in that situation with just myself, but with Echo with me? No thanks lol.

Heck. But the worst part is..... we got everything fixed. Paid LITERAL thousands. It was good. He threw in free overhead lights coz I haven't had lights in my car in *years*. Like. Since I got it forever ago. But after I picked it up from him, it was GREAT. EVERYTHING WAS AMAZING. SMOOTHEST DRIVE EVER. It was like I was driving it right off the dealership all over again!!!

I drove to Starbucks to grab a frappe with a giftcard I had leftover from thanksgiving and decided I would go inside instead of drive through. So I parked my car......and I took a while inside and decided to sit down and relax a bit away from my parents and enjoy the cool night air.

BUT THEN........

I get in my car and turn it on.........and an orange light comes on on my dash. I stare at it..and I'm like...."Oh god. Oh no. What does that mean. Oh no." I google it....and I felt so stupid. Because it was the FUCKING CHECK ENGINE LIGHT THAT I HAD BEEN STARING AT AND TRYING TO IGNORE FOR OVER A MONTH LMAO 😩😩😩 So I was like "fuck...SERIOUSLY". Mind you, it wasn't on when I drove out of the garage.

So I didn't even call the guy coz they were on the verge of closing. I drove right back and ran up to the guy and he was like "Woah what what what" and I'm like "BRUH. THE LIGHT. IT'S BACKKKKKKKK!" And he laughs and is like "It's probably just a (code? Switch? He said some word thing idk...mechanic talk idk 😭😭😭)"

So he told me to bring it back Tuesday and he would throw in some free, new wipers while he checked out my car again. Like, he was super duper sweet. And my mom had taken her car to him and just recently paid thousands on her car as well as hers had just died when she got here, too. So he knew we were really stretched thin here.

BUT IT DOESN'T EVEN END THERE.

I got up today and we actually went and did something fun today instead of moving bullshit. My great aunt, my mom, my cousin and I did an escape room and it was SUPER fun coz it Houdini themed and you know how magicians always have assistants so they asked for a volunteer that will be separated from the group at the beginning in a separate room that the group has to free from the clues the person trapped is yelling through the walls so I volunteered and it was just fucking amazing lmao. Only the 2nd one I've ever done in my life, but god I love those things soooooo much like 20/10 would do again!

But er...regarding my car...I was going to drop my car off and hop in my great aunts car at the dealership and we would drive to meet up with our other family. So I'm driving....and I happen to look down at a stoplight......and the FUCKING CHECK ENGINE LIGHT IS OFF AGAIN.

At this point I'm like "You know what.... I'm done....lol..." Like. I just.... 😩😩😩🤦‍♂️ I know as much about cars as I know about cooking....aka, NOTHING. Fuck, dude. Every time I try to have someone teach me either thing, I fuck everything up and it's just bad. :( Idk why it's so hard for me. I feel like getting into auto work would be similar to dissections and autopsies wouldn't it? I have come to quite enjoy dissections. I get actually get excited everytime there's a wet lab day and we get to slice something up and dig around in it and poke through the anatomy and actually physically see how everything lays and works and ....idk, I feel like that's very similar to how working on a car would be??? Am I just fucking crazy??? 😩😩😩 jeeze lol.

What're you gonna put your cat patch on btw? Your sister gives cool gifts. Do you have a patch jacket or anything?

Did I post the gifts I gave to my mom? 🤔🤔🤔 One of them was really neat, and she's obsessed so Imma have to do that at some point lol. Echo has barely even touched his two new toys 😒😒😒 He keeps going to his old toys....lol. brat. Haha it's what I expected though. He'll get to his new ones next year probably....and the ones I get him next christmas will probably be used around the Christmas after that 😂😂😂 It's a cycle.... My bby has to have his squeakies to num on, you know lol.

I hope I didn't fuck anything up writing this coz my ambien kicked in halfway through this and I'm about to head to bed. Got a looooooong ass day of helping boomers figure out technology. Setting up a bunch of new technology around the house, helping them figure it out, taking mother to buy a laptop that suits her needs, taking her to verizon to help her change our plan and figure things out for her if they're open for that, helping her set up auto pay on stuff and teaching her how to pay bills online and writing out instructions step by step and labeling ALL THE THINGS for her.....lists and neat handwriting are my specialty after all. A week later and my great aunt and uncle are still convinced I somehow wrote my note on their christmas card with a typewriter?????? 🤨🤨🤨 Idk man lololol. And lots more millennials-teaching-boomers moments tomorrow! I'm already exhausted 😩 lmao jk but no rly 😒🤪🤪🤪 Aight Imma go to sleeps now. Sir says grrr. As per usual. Pls show me what you do with the cute cat patch. I wanna see. 😻😺👀💕🥰

Night, K. 🥰🥰🥰

And since I'm posting this at 1am, Florida time.....and knowing some of you are an hour behind (my home time zone for example).... HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!!!! WE DID IT. WE MADE IT TO A WHOLE NEW FUCKING DECADE. HELL YEAH.

I honestly never thought I would see 2020. I mean that both metaphorically and as a pun. 😘

Goodnight everyone! 🥰