#these quotes make me really sad so i had to share

[henrythehorse]

i sometimes think the notion that john's feelings for paul were so volatile they seemed to change from minute to minute is a bit overblown—until i remember his september 1980 newsweek interview where he manages to showcase every emotion possible in a single quote when asked about paul.

INT: Is there animosity?

JOHN: Why should there be? I don't have any animosity for him. I don't even think about him unless somebody brings him up. Or if some song comes out or something happens, you know, they're in the newspaper. I don't know why everyone doesn't just leave him alone — I haven't really seen him in ten years. I can talk about him forever because I know all about him, but you see, there's nothing much to say.

and there's also this quote from the same interview:

INT: In a recent interview McCartney said that he thought you and Yoko had done everything you'd always wanted to do — except one ... be yourselves.

JOHN: Paul didn't know what the fuck I was doing and he had to come up with something. He was as curious as everybody else. WHAT ARE THEY DOING THERE? WHAT DO THEY DO ALL THE TIME? I really don't know anything about how he lives, except what I read in the papers. It's been ten years since I really communicated with him. Shearing sheep and making lots of money — that's what the handouts say. I don't believe handouts about any artist.

it’s almost as if he’s constantly switching between talking about two different versions of paul: the one he knew and loved so deeply, and this total stranger that people won’t stop asking him about. i believe this is why he seems to have a sudden surge of possessiveness while talking about paul in the first quote, but then retracts and says, 'there’s nothing much to say,' because the version of paul he could talk about forever exists only in his memories.

[ellecdc]

Hello! I absolutely adore your writing, I’ve binged like all of your fics 😂. If possible could you do maybe a poly!moonwater x reader where said reader maybe gets hurt (maybe someone says something negative about Remus and she gets hurt defending him?) I just absolutely adore your moonwater fics! And when Barty gets involved is hilarious. thank you so much! No pressure if you don’t feel the Inspo for it!

I've not written for moonwater in a while, so this was a sweet treat! thanks for your request, lovie <3

poly!moonwater x gn!reader who defends Remus' honour

CW: Snape's a wanker in this and we hand his ass to him for it [sorry to my Snape apologists out there - don't hate me!], alluding to blood but no actual mention of it? small injury to hand, Regulus sharing Sirius' DNA trait for mischief

You sucked in a pained breath through your teeth which was quickly replicated by your boyfriend in some sort of weird comradery.

“I know, I know; I’m sorry dove.” Remus murmured softly as he continued dabbing gently at the broken skin on your knuckles. 

“S’not your fault.” You mumbled petulantly as you tried to ignore the stinging of every swipe he made; the once pristine white cloth now quite decorated in red. 

Remus snorted as he eyed you pointedly before affixing his gaze back to your hands. “It sounds as if it sort of was.” 

It was your turn to snort as you glared at the wall behind Remus as if it had been the one making derogatory comments in the halls a mere ten minutes ago. “You’re not the wanker who was begging to be punched.”

Remus shook his head in admonishment, but you could feel the [painful] puffs of air dancing across your open wounds as he breathed out a laugh. “He’s going to be furious, you know?”

Remus didn’t clarify who he was, but he didn’t need to. “Yeah well, if you would bloody hurry up and cast an episkey on this already, he’d never have to know.” You taunted only half teasingly [and half very nervously about how long it was taking to close up the few scrapes lining your hands from your minor scuffle]. 

Unfortunately, he walked in through the door before Remus had finished patching you up.

“What in the bloody hells is this I’m hearing about a brawl between you and Snape?” Regulus demanded with a stoney face as he stalked towards your form; face falling as your hands came into his view.

“Amour! What in Salazar’s name- On dirait que tu as combattu un nundu.” 

“Okay, well, I think that’s a little dramatic.” You deflected quickly at the insinuation that you walked away from a fight with a nundu with nothing but a few cuts and scrapes to your knuckles to show for it.

“Dramatic?” Regulus drawled as he levelled you with an unimpressed look. “I’m not the one who jumped another student in the hallways after Potions! And Snape of all people; you know to ignore his usual drivel, amour.”

You shared a guilty look with Remus who gave you a sad smile. 

“It wasn’t the usual drivel, Reg.” Remus offered, causing Regulus’ breath to leave him which he had at the ready, no doubt, to continue his admonishment. 

“I didn’t think that sod had the brain cells left to come up with anything new.” He offered noncommittally, causing Remus to snort a laugh. “Still, sweetheart; I’d really prefer you just ignore him.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore a tosser who has the audacity to speak about my, quote, half-blood half-breed freak and his blood-traitor servants who he no doubt imperio’d to be with him?” You challenged; tone both soft yet firm as you looked at Regulus imploringly. 

Regulus stood there staring back at you before you noticed his jaw tighten. “Bâtard.” He spat as he looked down to where Remus was sitting on a footstool in front of you as he finished wrapping your hands. 

“He’s just jealous that he can’t find one person to put up with his black hair and brooding personality, let alone two.” 

“Did Regulus Black just make…not only a joke, but a joke at his own expense?” You teased as you kicked one of your feet out at him, only for him to catch you by the ankle and run his thumb over your ankle bone. 

“Of course I did; I’m hilarious.” Regulus agreed in monotone causing both you and Remus to chuckle. 

“You’re all fixed up, dovey.” Remus announced as he stood, bending to press a kiss on your head before pressing one to Regulus’ too. “No more fights at my expense, okay?”

“Can I fight at Regulus’ expense?” 

“No.” Both boys chorused, though Remus pointed at himself as he nodded and mouthed “tell me first”. 

“So, where can I find Snape now?” Regulus asked as he dropped your ankle, earning him unimpressed looks from both of you. “What? I’m not going to go find him, I just need to tell Barty where he can find him.”

“Junior doesn’t give a niffler’s arse about what Snape has to say about me, Reggie.” Remus admonished as he leaned against the headboard of his four poster bed. 

“Perhaps not.” Regulus agreed readily before his gaze moved to meet yours; the horrifying glimmer of mischief present in his icy grey eyes sending shivers down your spine. “But he will care to know that his precious Treasure lost blood over that foul git.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You hissed.

But Regulus had already turned on his heel and was rushing out of the marauder’s dorm room; as you stood to chase him, two arms wrapped an iron grip around your middle and pulled you flush to his chest. 

“No more fights, dovey.” Remus murmured into your neck as he pulled you back into his bed with him.

“I’d only be fighting our sodding boyfriend! You know I’d win!” You whined petulantly, though your body traitorously melted into Remus’ frame as he nuzzled impossibly further into your neck. 

“No more fighting.” He repeated.

So you acquiesced; you stopped fighting and fully allowed yourself to be cuddled by your half-blood half-breed boyfriend that you were so unbelievably and willingly in love with.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ interlude - i have questions

chapter summary: Logan tries to figure out how to move on from your death after Alcatraz Island in the years following.

word count: 2.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is kinda different from what i normally do, but i had this idea in my head. if anyone has ever read 'a series of unfortunate events' or watched the show on netflix (i highly recommend both) then you know lemony snicket (the author and narrator) always puts a quote about beatrice, the love of his life who he lost, at the start of every book. so instead, i put some quotes at the start of every time cut (there are only three very short drabbles, but i wanted to try my hand at it so this is not a required read for the series)

warnings/tags: sadness, angst, depression?, heavy drinking, mentioned blood loss

series masterlist - chapter 9 → chapter 11

you left too soon,

i wasn’t done loving you yet.

---

During the night Logan hoped for two different things: that he would go to sleep peacefully, without dreams of you, or that he would dream of you.

The mansion was unnervingly quiet. The students had adjusted to the absence of Charles, Jean, and Scott in ways only kids could—by moving forward. The classrooms still buzzed during the day, Ororo still led them with grace and determination, and Hank busied himself in his lab, pushing forward as if the cracks in the foundation weren’t there.

But Logan? Logan couldn’t move forward.

Not without you.

It had been months since Alcatraz, and every day was heavier than the last. He’d carried you back himself, refusing help even though every muscle in his body screamed against it. He’d stayed with you until the funeral, until the dirt covered the final trace of you. But even that couldn’t make him leave.

Now, the mansion felt like a ghost of what it had been when you were alive. The hallways didn’t echo with the same warmth, and he swore that every room still smelled faintly like you, even though he knew it wasn’t possible. Your classroom remained untouched, the pen you always twirled still resting on the desk where you’d left it, just like every other time you’d been too nervous to notice.

He couldn’t bring himself to enter it again.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed in the room you’d shared that last week before the battle. His elbows rested on his knees, a cigar burning out between his fingers. He stared at the floor, your name an unspoken ache in his throat.

Sleep wouldn’t come. It never did. Not since that night.

His head fell into his hands as he let out a shaky breath. Memories of your smile, your laugh, the way you’d said I love you before kissing him—those memories haunted him, louder and sharper than anything else. He carried you in a way he hadn’t been able to carry anyone else.

He felt your absence in every breath he took.

The bed creaked as Logan stood. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, its glow casting shadows across the room. Three in the morning. The kind of hour where the world felt still but not peaceful. His bag was already packed in the corner, and his boots were waiting by the door. He’d known tonight was the night—he couldn’t stay here any longer.

Logan lit the cigar between his lips, taking a slow drag before picking up the bag. The weight of it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. He made his way down the hall, pausing briefly outside your classroom. His hand hovered over the doorframe before he clenched it into a fist and moved on. He couldn’t open the door. Not now, not ever.

By the time he reached the garage, Ororo was there, leaning against one of the cars with her arms crossed. She’d always been perceptive, too much for her own good.

“You’re really leaving,” she said softly, not as a question but as a fact. Her tone wasn’t judgmental—just tired.

Logan nodded, tossing his bag into the truck he’d commandeered months ago. “Ain’t much left for me here.”

Ororo stepped forward, her brows furrowed as she studied him. “That’s not true, and you know it. The students need you, Logan. We need you.”

“They’ll manage without me.” He pulled open the driver’s side door, but Ororo reached out, her hand on his arm.

“Logan—”

He stopped, exhaling a breath full of frustration and something deeper. “Don’t try to stop me, ‘Ro. You know I can’t do this anymore.”

Her grip loosened, her hand falling to her side. She hesitated, searching his face for something—anything—that might change his mind. “She wouldn’t want you to leave.”

Logan froze, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the door. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Ororo didn’t flinch. “She loved you, Logan. She believed in you. If she were here—”

“But she’s not here,” Logan snapped, his voice breaking as he turned to face her fully. “She’s not here, and she’s not comin’ back. None of them are. So don’t stand there and tell me what she would’ve wanted. You don’t know.”

The air around Ororo shifted, the weight of his words settling heavily between them. She nodded once, stepping back. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I don’t know. But I do know that running won’t make it hurt any less.”

Logan didn’t respond. He climbed into the truck, slamming the door shut as he started the engine. He didn’t look back as he pulled out of the garage, the headlights cutting through the darkness like a blade.

The mansion disappeared in the rearview mirror, and with it, the life he’d tried—and failed—to build.

As the miles stretched on and the road unfolded before him, Logan felt the ring pressing against his chest like a curse. He pulled it out, letting it rest in his palm as his foot eased off the gas.

He’d carried it for more than a century, waiting for the right time. But the right time had come and gone six times over, and this time, there was no coming back.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He slipped the ring back into his pocket, where it would stay—like the memory of you, a ghost that would haunt him for as long as he lived.

He kept driving, the road endless and empty, each mile taking him further from the mansion but never from you.

---

“You can’t love someone unless you love

yourself first.” Bullshit.

I have never loved myself.

But you

Oh God, I loved you so much I forgot what

hating myself felt like.

---

Getting shitfaced at a bar was Logan’s routine nowadays. It didn’t matter where—dingy dives or polished joints—it all tasted the same after the fourth whiskey. The bartender at tonight’s hole-in-the-wall had finally kicked him out, muttering something about closing time. Logan didn’t fight him. He barely muttered a thanks before stumbling out into the cold night air.

The streets were quiet, empty except for the occasional car passing by. His boots scuffed against the pavement as he made his way back to the motel where he’d been crashing. It wasn’t much—a single bed, a bathroom, and a TV that barely worked—but it was enough for someone like him.

The whiskey hadn’t done its job. The buzz wasn’t strong enough to drown out the memories, and the quiet only made it worse.

Logan shoved open the door to his room, letting it slam shut behind him. He tossed his jacket onto the chair in the corner and sank onto the edge of the bed. His hands came up to his face, rough fingers dragging down as if he could wipe away the exhaustion. But it wasn’t just his body that was tired; it was everything.

He pulled off his boots, letting them drop to the floor with a heavy thud. The cheap mattress creaked as he fell back onto it, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. His hand found the chain around his neck, pulling the ring free from beneath his shirt. It dangled between his fingers, the light from the streetlamp outside casting faint glints against its surface.

The ache in his chest was a familiar one—sharp and relentless. He closed his eyes, gripping the ring tightly in his fist as if that could bring you back.

It never did.

---

It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed of you.

In the dream, you were there—alive, warm, and smiling at him like you always had. You sat cross-legged on the bed, your glasses slipping down your nose as you scribbled something into a notebook.

“Logan,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “You’re staring again.”

“Can’t help it, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “You’re a hell of a lot prettier than the walls.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of life. It tugged at something deep in his chest, the same way it always did. You pushed your glasses up the same way you always did, while you kept your head down, hiding that smile of yours.

Logan moved closer, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat beside you. You looked up at him, your eyes catching his in a way that made his heart stumble. He reached out, brushing a thumb against your cheek, and you leaned into his touch without hesitation.

“Don’t leave,” you said, so softly it almost wasn’t a sound. “Promise me you’ll stay this time.”

Logan’s jaw tightened at the sound of your voice. It was so achingly familiar, so damn real that he almost believed it was true. Almost.

“I’ll stay,” he said gruffly, the words falling from his lips before he could stop them. His hand stayed on your cheek, the warmth of your skin grounding him in a way that felt cruel and kind all at once. “Ain’t got anywhere else to be, sweetheart.”

You smiled, and for a moment, it was as if the weight in his chest lifted. The lines on his face softened as his thumb traced the curve of your jaw.

“You always say that,” you teased, leaning closer until your forehead rested against his. “And yet you always find a reason to leave.”

Logan closed his eyes, the accusation cutting deep, even if it wasn’t meant to hurt. The truth was, you weren’t wrong. Every life, every version of you, he’d lost—by fate, by chance, or by his own failure.

“Not this time,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

Your hand came up to cover his, delicate fingers wrapping around his much larger ones. “But you have to go,” you said softly, eyes searching his face. “You can’t stay here.”

Logan’s chest tightened, the dream taking on that cruel, vivid sharpness that felt too real to be anything but torture. His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “No,” he growled, voice low and almost desperate. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Not again.”

You smiled at him, but there was sadness in it. The kind of sadness that cut deep, quiet and understanding. “You have to,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his knuckles like you were comforting him. “You don’t belong here.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, the weight of your words sinking in, but he didn’t loosen his grip on you. “This ain’t fair,” he said, his voice rough, teetering on the edge of anger and pain. “You were s’posed to stay this time. We had plans, remember? You, me…” His voice cracked, and he looked away, the words catching in his throat.

Your free hand came up to cup his face, gently coaxing him to look back at you. “Logan,” you said, your tone tender but firm, “you’ve always been the strongest man I know. But even you can’t fight this.”

“I can try,” he said gruffly, his hand tightening around yours. “I’d fight the whole damn world if it meant I got to keep you.”

Your smile softened, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had paused. “I know,” you said. “And you always have. But you don’t need to fight anymore. Not for me.”

Logan’s brows drew together, his eyes glassy as he searched your face for something, anything that might make this easier. “I don’t know how to let go,” he admitted, the words barely audible. “I don’t even know who I am without you.”

“You’re Logan,” you said simply, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. “You’re the man who’s lived a thousand lives and still keeps going, no matter what.”

He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? Well, livin’ don’t feel much like livin’ without you.”

Your hand slid down from his face, resting over his heart. “I’ll always be here,” you said softly, your eyes holding his like they could anchor him. “Every heartbeat, every breath—you’ll carry me with you.”

Logan closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled a shaky breath. He wanted to believe you, to hold onto your words like they could fill the gaping hole you’d left behind. But when he opened his eyes again, the bed was empty, and the only sound was the faint hum of the motel’s heater.

His fist was still clenched around the ring, the metal warm from his grip. Logan sat up, dragging a hand down his face as the reality of the dream settled over him like a fresh wound. He looked down at the ring, the faint light catching on its surface, and let out a bitter chuckle.

“Even in my dreams, you’re tellin’ me to move on,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not yet.

---

But life has plans for all people. Even if those plans separate us

from the ones we love. No matter where my life takes me or

yours takes you, I will love you whether there are a thousand

miles between us or none at all.

---

Logan stood outside the hotel room, rain steadily pouring down on him as Mariko slept inside.

“That’s a lot of blood.”

He looked over to the side and saw you—or rather a vision, hallucination?—of you. “I thought you were done being the hero.” You continued.

“These guys were… trying to kill her.”

You gave him a small smile before walking closer to him, kissing his stubbled jaw and turning his head to you with a hand on his cheek. “You’ve always been a hero.”

Logan’s throat tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m no hero, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely. “Not without you.”

Your hand lingered on his cheek, your gaze steady and unyielding. “You’re always going to be a hero Logan.” You tilted your head and even in this vision, your glasses had specks of rain on them from the downpour, “especially mine.”

The words hit Logan harder than any physical blow ever could. His jaw tightened as he stared at you—or the echo of you, the cruel trick his mind had conjured. Your presence was so real he could almost feel the warmth of your palm against his weathered skin, the way your touch had always managed to ground him no matter how lost he felt.

“Darlin’...” The word slipped from his lips in a voice rough with disbelief and pain. “This... this ain’t real.”

Your soft smile didn’t falter. “Maybe not,” you admitted, your tone impossibly gentle. “But does that really matter?”

He took a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours for answers he already knew he wouldn’t find. “It matters,” he rasped. “’Cause I can’t... I can’t keep seein’ you like this. I can’t keep hearin’ your voice in my head, feelin’ like—like you’re still here when you ain’t.”

You moved closer, your hand sliding from his cheek to rest over his heart. Logan flinched but didn’t pull away. He couldn’t—not from you, even if you weren’t really here.

“I’ll always be here,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against the soaked fabric of his shirt. “You know that. You carry me with you, Logan. Every lifetime, every moment—you never let me go.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, hollow and heavy. “Maybe that’s the problem, sweetheart. Maybe I’m the one who can’t let go.”

“You’re not supposed to,” you said simply. “Not yet.”

Logan’s gaze hardened, the fire of his grief and frustration sparking through his voice. “Not yet? Then when, huh? When the hell am I supposed to stop seein’ your face every time I close my eyes? When am I supposed to stop hearin’ your voice every time I take a breath?”

You tilted your head again, your expression unreadable but calm in a way that only made his turmoil worse. “When you’re ready,” you said quietly. “And not a moment before.”

The rain poured harder, running in rivulets down Logan’s face as he stared at you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wanted to be angry, to scream at you, to demand why you’d left him—again, always. But he couldn’t. He never could. Not with you.

Instead, he whispered, “I miss you.”

Your hand pressed more firmly against his chest, where his heart thundered beneath your touch. “I know,” you said, your voice like a balm over his frayed edges. “I miss you, too.”

The blood loss finally took effect, and without his healing he stumbled to the ground, passing out.

if you read this, thank you! next chapter is back to our regularly scheduled programming, 'days of future past'! and oh boy, will it be everything you wished for ;)

also, i'm flying home for xmas break today so i'm super excited and happy that i'll have more time to write and read my long tbr. anyways, i'm off to catch a(nother) flight! xoxo

[thatfandomslut]

It'll Always Be Her

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Trigger Warning: tooth aches from fluff, mentions of partying, alcohol, and drugs

Request:

Valentine's / 200 Followers Celebration Request; Regina George w/ quote 50 and chocolate 1. Or: “I am here and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder.” w/ general fluff

Valentine's / Follower Celebration requests are closed.

The sound of the bass booming from the frat party caused a bit of distress in (Y/n) as her heartbeat sped up slightly. Her tense body relaxed as Regina took ahold of her hand softly, giving a gentle, comforting squeeze that brought her back to reality. The feeling of being complete as their hands clasped together, fitting like puzzle pieces provided a strong comfort in (Y/n) before she nodded, ready to take on the party with Regina by her side. Regina was the only one who could cause the blaring alarms that were (Y/n)'s anxiety to turn into an almost nonexistent hum within her ears.

Regina was quick to get pulled into a crowd of her sorority sisters as (Y/n) watched to scream over her fondly, pointing over at (Y/n) as they wiggled their brows. Regina's cheeks turned unnaturally pink as she looked over at (Y/n) sheepishly. They were their biggest fans. "I'm going to get us drinks," (Y/n) shouted over the crowd to which Regina gave her a quick thumbs up as the girls around her pulled her to what was hopefully a quick game of cup pong. Regina promised her a dance, after all.

A familiar face made its way into view and a smile grew on (Y/n)'s face. "Hey, Janis," she greeted the girl with a hug. Ever since they were in college, (Y/n) convinced Regina to be kind to one of her best friends, Janis. This has created a harmonious feeling of ease for (Y/n) as she didn't have to choose between the two. "I didn't know you were coming to this party. It doesn't really seem like your type." Janis also happened to be (Y/n)'s dormmate, and she learned quickly that Janis was not much of a partier.

Janis shrugged a bit, biting her lip as she resisted making eye contact with the girl across the room. (Y/n) still caught on with a playful gasp as she nudged Janis's shoulder. "Go talk to her," she encouraged, but Janis shook her head, holding up her hands. "Oh, come on. In high school, you were so outspoken. Did you finally meet your match, Janis Imi'ike?" She teased as she grabbed two solo cups, filling them with the buzz balls she had in her bag. She often brought the drinks that she and Regina drank for safety reasons.

"I may have," Regina ran a hand through her hair. She was grateful for (Y/n)'s presence, but she also wished Damian was here and not having to visit his family. Even Cady was off at MIT, and Janis almost felt herself missing high school for a brief moment as she glanced over to Regina. It was possible that Regina was the epitome of having changed while staying the same. She seemed happier but she was still that same girl that Regina knew that always had a side comment to share. "You know, I still don't understand what you see in her."

(Y/n) sent Janis a quick look causing her to look away quickly. "She's perfect, Janis. She is the only person who has ever made me feel something. Even from across the room, she stands there, sending me little smiles. I am here and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. She makes me wonder about the present and the future, and I hope every second that she's in both of those. It'll always be her for me." (Y/n) said and Janis gave her a small smile.

(Y/n) stared over at Regina with a dreamy look, her red solo cups in her hands as Janis pushed her forward. Regina made her way over with a soft smile. "Hey," she said softly, cupping (Y/n)'s cheek softly as she placed a kiss on (Y/n)'s lips gently. As she pulled away, she took her drink with a quick 'thank you' and a grateful smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. "What were you talking about with Janis, my love?" She inquired curiously, the party becoming background noise. It felt like it was just them in a room alone now.

"She likes someone at the party. I told her she should go for it. Then, I told her how you make me feel." (Y/n) explained, spilling everything easily to Regina. She had always been able to talk to Regina easily. She knew that everything she said to Regina was sacred between the two, no matter how small the subject was or how big it was. It was something that made their relationship work. They never made each other's words feel meaningless. Instead, they listened like their lives depended on each word, clinging to it happily.

She nodded softly as she drank the contents of her cup. "And how do I make you feel, beautiful?" Regina raised a playful brow as she examined (Y/n)'s features delicately. She loved everything about her. She counted herself lucky that (Y/n) looked past everything she had done in high school. (Y/n) was brilliant, kind, and beautiful. Her soul was full of light. There were some secret times when Regina felt undeserving of the love that (Y/n) had shared with her. But then (Y/n) would tell her how much she loved her and all of her fears and insecurities would wash away.

A soft song began to play and it reached (Y/n)'s ears. The girl smiled widely as she looked up at Regina. "How about I tell you how you make me feel over a dance?" She offered, handing their drinks to Janis, who was still watching their interactions, invested. It was like watching the most romantic show in person, and as cute as it was, it was almost nauseating.

Regina took ahold of (Y/n)'s hands with a grin. "I think that that's a deal," Regina spoke before pulling (Y/n) into her arms as they danced into each other's arms.

"They're such a cute couple, huh?" A voice broke Janis from her gaze. Looking over, she smiled when she saw it was the girl from her art class. "I'm Alyssa, you're Janis, right?"

[gojipink]

white lie

ஐ ft. kaeya

ஐ summary. trying to hide an injury from him!

ஐ warnings. none, SFW. 1.3k words

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

getting home to you and kaeya’s shared apartment took longer than you had wanted; getting healed by barbra after a couple of adventures found you propped against a tree, half-lucid with a bloody gash across your abdomen had really put a kink in your usual schedule.  

you breathe a sigh of relief when you unlock the front door and find that the apartment is still empty, meaning that kaeya was still in his office and hasn't been alerted of your little accident. 

you have never kept anything from kaeya but this? this was different. lately, he’s been having to take on way too much, his desk overflowing with piles upon piles of paperwork while also leading patrol tours throughout the nation. every night he comes home utterly exhausted, barely having enough energy to finish his dinner and give you a chaste kiss before he retires to bed.

if he catches wind of your injury, he'll be sure to go insane with worry and put himself on the backburner in order to dote on you, which you deem completely unnecessary. barbra’s already given you the all clear, just have to take it easy for the next few days and clean your wounds daily and you should be healed up soon enough. besides, you’re strong enough to take care of yourself, there’s no reason for you to burden kaeya with something as insignificant as a minor injury. 

you tried to act as normal as you could. tried to move around the kitchen preparing dinner for the two of you with as much stability as you could muster. and once kaeya came home, eyes slightly wide and breathing deeply like he was hiding the fact he just ran home, you put on your best smile for him. 

“welcome home, love! you made it just in time for dinner,” you beam at him, settling into your usual seat at the table.

he looks around the apartment for a moment before his clear eye finds its way back to you, analyzing your seemingly unharmed figure. he gives you a tight smile while he makes his way into the kitchen to wash up, “you made dinner?” he asks, tone slightly devoid of his usual pep but you chalk it up to him being tired. 

“mhm, just something quick. hurry, come join me,” you smile at him. 

after a moment, kaeya sits in his chair across from you. watchful eyes observing your figure as you begin to eat, his heart twisting uncomfortably as his mind clouds with turmoil. 

kaeya studies you for a moment more before speaking up, “heard you required a healer today, what’s going on with that?” 

you tense at his question, eyes wide and staring down at your food, mind racing to find a convincing excuse. 

“i, um,” you swallow thickly before looking up to meet his eyes, his expression unreadable, “i was feeling a little sore from these past few days so i thought i could just pop in and see barbra. you know, just get a little once-over is all.” 

kaeya’s uncovered eye flash with something indecipherable. confusion? hurt? anger? though, it wouldn't really make sense for him to feel any of these emotions at all, not unless-

“so, you're going with that story, hm?” he sighs out, letting his spoon clink loudly against the side of the bowl as he sits back in the chair with his arms crossed, studying you with icy eyes. 

“i…well, yes, i-” you try to come up with something quickly before he interrupts with a humorless chuckle, 

“can’t say i’m not hurt by your lie, angel.” he says quietly with a sad smile while looking at you with dejected eyes. 

you stare at him, shocked by his words, “kaeya, im not-”

“jean said that you were covered in blood. barbra told her everything, which she then told me before i left work. said you were, and i quote, ‘barely conscious enough to say what happened’.” he said, his tone of voice flat and empty, “but apparently, and this is the part that puzzles me most, it was specifically requested that this incident was to be kept from me.”

“i can explain,” you rush out, quickly moving to the chair next to him, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain that shoots across your abdomen, too desperate to save him from any misunderstanding he’s conjured in his mind.

“kaeya, i promise,” you reach over to slide your hand into his, your heart breaks at the sound of his shuddering inhale, his thumb roughly rubbing the back of your hands trying to mask the shakiness in his fingers, “i’m alright. i’m here. it sounds so much worse than it really is and the only reason i didnt tell you-”

“that's alright, my love,” he interjects looking up at you with a dim smile, “i get it, i'm glad you’re alright,” he whispers as he pulls his hand out of your grasp to stand up and clear off the dining room table.

your eyes helplessly follow his movements, “wh-get what, kae-”

“you must be tired, hm? had quite the day, princess,” his usual easygoing tone forced back into his voice, “ill clean up, you go wash up first let me know if you want help. i'll call barbra or jean if you prefer it.”

you break from your dumbfounded state as you chase after him in the kitchen. arms wrapping around his torso tightly, refusing to let him pull away as he stands in front of the sink bracing his hands against the counter.

“i know you're mad at me,” you start gently, cheek pressed snuggly against his back, your hands pressed against his chest feeling the heavy beat of his stinging heart, “but i’m so sorry, my love. i never wanted to cause you any kind of distress. you have been so overworked, so stressed out, i just didn't want to pile it on.” 

he harshly exhales through his nose as his hands slowly make their way towards yours, gently prying them loose so that he can turn in your iron hold. once he faces you, his fingers come up to brush over your cheek. 

“im not upset with you,” he whispers, his thumb lightly tracing your cheekbone, “i mean, i'm upset, but i'm not mad at you. could never be mad at you, angel.” 

you frown at his dejected expression and tone while you lean into his touch, “i just didn’t want to burden you with it, kae. it really sounds worse than it actually is, i swear. nothing bad happened, i was fixed up really quick! the cut was so much smaller than what the healers thought, it just looked way worse because i was also splattered with monster blood as well,” you hastily explained all in one breath. 

he worriedly chews on his bottom lip as he absorbs your words,  “what about how you were barely conscious-”

“i was just exhausted after the fight, kae,” you clarify, “admittedly it was a tough fight but i was back up on my feet in no time after seeing the healers.” 

he analyzes you for a moment before leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, “tell me everything,” he whispers, “good, bad, mundane or not. i don't care, just don't shut me out, please. you have no idea what-” he stops himself to exhale a heavy breath, “i didn't know what to think. regardless, it doesn't matter how busy i am, how stressed out i am, i want to know everything that happens with you. you are my number one priority, not some group of recruits i just met yesterday. you understand that, right?” 

you nod your head while still pressed against his, “i know, im sorry,” you whisper. 

kaeya pulls back slightly before cupping your cheeks to drag you into a sweet and comforting kiss. 

after a few more tender kisses, kaeya’s lips lift into his usual playful smile, “c’mon, pretty, you must be sore, hm? think we both need a relaxing bath.”

you beam up at him at his suggestion, your bright smile stunning him for a moment as his heart skips in his chest and his stomach erupts into butterflies. quickly, he turns away to lead you both to the bathroom as your giggles follow closely behind him hinting that you've caught sight of his blushing cheeks.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

masterlist

[chaoticbardlady99]

Hello again! I’m so glad my prompt inspired you! I really enjoyed the first part of “Admiring from Afar” and I look forward to seeing what happens next! 😊

Admiring from Afar Pt 2 (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Author note: Thank you so much anon! I am so glad you enjoyed it! I hope everyone likes this part as much as the last one- I wasn't expecting the last one to get so many notes! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and shared Part 1- it truly means the world to me!!!

Tag-list: @hyperfixationwhore, @ophelias-flowerss, @support-local-bands, @kahelis

CW: Broken bones and reparing them, minor violence, angst (?)

Picture belongs to silverformymonsters on Tumblr.

*I have only proof read this once.

If you missed part one- find the link below:

Here's the link you little weirdo

Your screams of pain rattle through camp for what feels like hours. Halsin had told everyone that resetting your bones and putting them together again would not be a pleasant or easy process. Astarion is pacing outside his tent- fists clenching and unclenching as he watches Wyll talk to Karlach by the fire.

Shadowheart and Halsin had kicked Astarion out of your tent an hour ago when they began setting your compound fracture- you had woken up with your mouth open in a silent scream and tears pouring down your face. Astarion regrets threatening Halsin’s life- he wants to be in there with you. He knows he would still feel helpless, but at least he could try to comfort you. It would be more than what Wyll is doing anyway.

 Astarion’s head snaps towards the campfire when Wyll lets out a bellowing laugh at something Karlach has said. Astarion walks up to Wyll and Karlach mindlessly- only one goal in mind.

 Karlach notices him and gives him a sad smile, “Hey fangs-”

  Karlach’s sentence starts as fast as it stops.

 Astarion’s fist collides with Wyll’s face- making the other man fall flat on his back from the force of the punch. Astarion is feeling borderline feral and based on the fearful, angry look in Wyll’s good eye, Wyll knows he is about to snap too.

  Astarion goes to punch him again, but is abruptly pulled backwards by Karlach.

 “Wow there,” Karlach says with a nervous chuckle, “I know tensions are high right now- but I’m going to have to call a party foul on you, Fangs.” 

 “Let me continue spoiling the party then,” he says through clenched teeth.

  Wyll stands back up and holds the tip of his short sword to Astarion’s throat.

"Hells Wyll, is that really necessary," Karlach groans.

Wyll ignores her- his eyes peering menacingly back into Astarion's.

  “What in the hells did I even do to you, Spawn?” Wyll asks hotly, fire burning behind his eyes.

 “Me!?” Astarion scoffs,” It’s what you didn’t do for Tav! Do you make a point of letting every person you bed get nearly slaughtered, almighty Blade of Frontiers?”

 Wyll’s anger turns to confusion and then his face lights up with clarity.

 “Astarion,” Wyll says slowly, “I didn’t bed Tav. In fact, they rejected me because, and I quote, ‘I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.’” 

   Astarion feels all the strength and anger leave his body after Wyll’s statement. Karlach lets him go and he wordlessy walks back to his tent. 

  He sits down amongst the pile of pillows and pulls out your broken glasses from his pocket. He thumbs the crooked metal as he starts to connect the dots. 

  He had only seen the kiss, but he hadn’t stayed for the aftermath of the kiss. If he had just waited five more seconds, maybe, you wouldn’t be in so much pain right now. His jealousy and insecurities had won out over everything the two of you had together.

He isn’t just a body to you- someone to appease your sexual appetite while you romance every person in camp.

You weren’t upset because you had been caught.

 You had genuinely been on the verge of tears due to him unceremoniously dumping you. Astarion didn’t even give you a chance to speak-to defend yourself. Instead, he specifically stole the words right out of your mouth which was something he makes a point of not doing. He packed up all of your belongings faster than he’s ever done anything before. He told you to leave. Leave- in the coldest voice he could have used. He rendered you heartbroken and speechless all in one conversation. Right after you had so sweetly called him “Star” and just rejected a man who was a far more appropriate option for you than him.

  Astarion had assumed you were as tired as you were because you had stayed up all night with Wyll. He buries his face in his hands as more realizations come to the forefront of his mind. 

  You were tired because you had spent the whole night terrified, alone, and in the cold. Heartbroken and Homesick in that horrible tent of yours that you never ended up replacing because you didn’t have to. Would never need to again. 

  He was your protector, your piece of happiness in this scary place, and he turned on you. 

  Astarion begins to feel ill and tears prick his eyes as another tearful scream rips through the air. He had inadvertently left you out for the slaughter and your misery right now is his fault alone. 

  A knock on the wood of his tent jolts him from his thoughts. He gets up and is shocked to see Karlach standing at the entrance of his tent. Astarion tries to hide the nervousness he’s feeling- he really is hoping that punch didn’t earn him a stake.

 “Don’t look so nervous Fangs,” she offers him an easy smile,” I just came to check on you. I know you guys are close and that was a hell of a shiner you left on Wyll.”

  Astarion looks away from Karlach’s friendly face and tries to blink away the tears threatening to spill down his face.

 “I appreciate you checking in one me, but I can assure you that-”

 “You’re fine? That you’re not suffering? Cause I sure am! Tav is like family to me and I regret not rushing over to help them” Karlach pauses and when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “It’s okay if you aren’t okay. It’s not some secret that you are in love with Tav or they you. We all can see how much you love each other.”

   “In love?” Astarion whispers

 Lae’zel pipes up from next door, “It’s disgustingly clear to everyone but you. You even bed them like you are in love with them. You humans have strange mating rituals. Added note- please keep it down. Some of us sleep.”

  Astarion stares at Lae’zel blankly- not sure what he’s supposed to take from that statement as Lae’zel turns to go to bed. Karlach coughs uncomfortably and chuckles.

   “After the tiefling party,” she smiles ruefully, "they showed me that necklace they made for you and I knew they were smitten.”

  Astarion stares at Karlach in confusion and Karlach’s eyes go wide with realization.

  “What Necklace?”

 “Necklace? Hm weird Astarion, why are you so hyperficated on necklaces SHEEESHH. If you want a necklace so bad, just go buy one. Better yet I’ll buy one for you. No, SIX!” 

   Astarion goes to protest when Karlach interrupts him again.

 “Anyway, I know you have their glasses and I was thinking about taking them to Dammon and seeing if he can fix them. I’ll get that necklace you are so worried about while I’m there too.”

  He rolls his eyes at the tiefling- it’s obvious that she is not willing to elaborate about the necklace and he’s sure this is news that he’d much rather hear from you anyway. Also, Astarion is well aware of Karlach’s massive, horny (She asked him for advice once, never again) crush on the blacksmith and he knows that she will take every opportunity she can to see him. The fact that she also gets to help you at the same time is probably a bonus for her. Astarion hands Karlach the glasses after making her promise to keep them safe. 

   Astarion sighs before making the trek over to your tent- each step feeling heavier than the other.  Shadowheart steps out of your tent right as he’s about to knock on the wooden beams that hold up your mediocre hovel. 

  “They are asking for you,” she says tiredly.

  “Shadowheart,” he pauses, “ I owe you one for helping them and being patient with… me when I yelled at you and Halsin before.”

  “Huh, that sounded dangerously close to a ‘Thank you’ and an ‘I’m sorry’, Astarion,” Shadowheart teases as she walks by him, “love has made you soft.”

  There’s that word again. Maybe that is what he’s been feeling towards you this whole time, but he can’t be for sure. He would have to explore these feelings later when he is less stressed, tired, and desperate to be near you. 

  He crawls into your dimly lit tent and you are meekly sitting upright, looking at him expectantly. He immediately sits down in front of you and gently cups your face in his hands. He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead, then he kisses your lips.

Astarion takes his time kissing you, pulling you into his lap so that he can support your weak, healing body. Warm tears are streaming down your checks by the time he pulls away. You let out a hiccup as you go to speak- effectively surprising both of you. Astarion chuckles as he traces circles with his fingers on your back.

  “Yo-uu like me aga-in?” you hiccup between tears.

   Well that broke him.

  “Darling, I never stopped,” he states matter-of-factly while he wipes away your tears.

 “Then why?” 

  Astarion takes a deep breath before starting.

  “I saw Wyll kiss you, but I didn’t stay to get the whole picture,” his voice coming out sheepishly, “I didn’t think I was capable of experiencing so many uncomfortable feelings at one time; Well, until that happened.”

  Astarion feels his own tears begin to go down his cheeks, “I didn’t want you to hurt me so I hurt you first. I am so sorry, my Love. I understand if you wish for me to go.” 

    Your hands make their way into his hair, gently detangling it and then you move to his tear stained face and kiss the tears away. Lovingly, you use your hands to bring his eyes to yours and Astarion leans into your touch. 

  “It’s okay my Star, I understand. However, I will never forgive you if you leave me.," you pause," Again.”

      He barks out a laugh, “then I guess I can never leave your side?”

   “Silvanus, no,” you wrinkle your nose in the most endearing way, “I have no desire to have the ever loving crap kicked out of me again.”

 “And I share that sentiment- I would prefer you never have the ‘ever loving crap kicked out’ of you again.”

  You slap his arm softly at his mpression of you and you erupt in giggles. Astarion can’t help but smile up at you. The warmth in his chest is absolutely undeniable. You, the bewitchingly good-natured thing that you are, have taken up all the space in his cold, dead heart. You have stood by him through everything and now you have forgiven him as easily as you had walked away from him when he told you to. He doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. As incredible as you. 

  Astarion knows in his gut that he is going to have to talk to you about his initial intentions, then he will give you his feelings served up on a silver platter. If you reject him, he definitely deserves it. But by the Gods does he want you to return his feelings and be able to look past his previous motives.

  For now though, he’s going to pretend like none of that is around the corner. He'll pretend that he does deserve this- deserve you.

  Astarion is going to just let himself bask in your grandeur and shower you with all the affections his actions had stolen from you both over the last 24 hours. 

  You are smiling at him and then a flash of remembrance crosses your face- prompting you to pop up out of his lap and ungracefully crawl towards your pack. Astarion watches you with curiosity and amusement as you throw items out of the bag, cursing, and grumbling “whereeee areee youuuuu????” 

          ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  You look back at him awkwardly, “The whole not having my glasses thing is a real bummer, but I promise you that this neuroticism has purpose.” 

 “Oh don’t worry about that Darling, if your neuroticism hasn’t scared me off yet, it certainly won’t now.”

 You roll your eyes at him and return to digging through your pack until you feel the pouch at the very bottom of the bag.  With an “Aha!” you twist around and crawl back to Astarion and sit in front of him(in criss-cross applesauce obviously). Astarion pouts as you push his arms away when he tries to pull you back on to his lap. 

  “I will sit on your lap all night and never leave if that is what you desire, but I insist that you must open this first.” 

 You hand him the black pouch with the necklace inside. You are practically bouncing in anticipation as he unfolds the silk handkerchief, revealing the necklace. 

  Astarion looks up at you with an unreadable expression (you literally can't fucking see) and then down at the necklace. You anxiously play with your hands.

  “It’s a- uh, well. You had been upset about Gale and the invisibility necklace so I made you one out of Oxen bone,” you ramble, “I know it’s not really your style, but I tried to make it a little bit shiny. It allows you to become invisible- I tested it out myself. Oh and I picked Cadaith for the design because the rune’s meaning reminds me of you- grace, power, and music of the stars….”

  You are blue in the face from your spiel and Astarion still hasn’t looked up from the necklace.

  Gods he must really hate it. 

   Astarion clears his throat and wipes his eyes. He grabs one of your hands, gently sliding his thumb over your knuckles before planting a soft kiss on each of them.

 “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me,” he puts the necklace on and then continues, “thank you my love, it’s the most wonderful thing I own.”

   You beam and lean forward to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, due to not having your glasses, you miss abysmally and kiss his nose- both of you chuckling as he guides your lips to his. As you pull back, a gust of bone chilling wind comes in through one of the holes in your tarp. You shiver involuntarily and  Astarion glares at you, unamused, as you scratch the back of your head while adorning an awkward smile.

 “Speaking of things that I own,” Astarion’s now teasing grin giving away his irritated facade, “I would be honored if you would move back into my tent with me.” 

  You feel your grin stretch from ear to ear and you quickly roll up your bed roll. You follow Astarion out of your tent and take his hand when he offers it to you. You walk with him across the clearing- Karlach whoops, whistles, and cheers as you walk by the fire. You stifle your laughter as Astarion pulls you into his tent. He grabs your bedroll and throws it to the side.

Astarion lifts you up and puts you lying flat on his bed roll. Astarion kisses you deeply, coaxing a moan from your lips. He pulls back and looks at you- you huff in frustration. Astarion begins to kiss along your jawline and down your neck. You can see his eyes to some extent, but the rest of him is a no go.

 “You didn’t happen to recover my glasses did you?”

You feel Astarion freeze before slowly bringing his face back up to yours.

  “Don’t worry my dear, it’s already being taken care of," he says, then whispers, "by Dammon.”

  Your stomach drops all the way to your ass. Your ears grow hot with rage and Astarion begins to kiss your face relentlessly- trying to unfurl the fury settling into your features. You can tell he is trying to hold back his laughter at your painfully cute, but angry expression.

 “What do you mean the blacksmith is taking care of my glasses?”

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

Okay, so I've seen a lot of posts on the "should Morro have stayed dead or should he have been given a redemption arc" and all that and I just kind of wanted to share my thoughts on the topic. I don't think his canon ending is bad, in fact there's a lot I like about it. It's a tragedy and a very good one at that. The way it ends with him and Wu, and with the whole "you can only save those who wish to be saved" quote? That's poignant, that has narrative weight. I think to say that it's bad is to ignore a lot of what makes Morro a good character. He's a reflection of Wu as a teacher, his teachings, and he's a foil to Kai specifically. He shows us why Wu works better now, and why he teaches the way he does. A large component of what makes his story have depth isn't just that he died young and was traumatized it's that he continued a cycle of trauma on with Lloyd (and Cole, if you considered that he dies indirectly due to Morro's actions but that's another topic). He's a bad person, he did really bad things, that's part of who he is. But, I think it's a misstep to call him irredeemable. I think that misses the point of his character entirely actually, like severely. Morro isn't irredeemable, he shows that he's capable of growth in the very scene he dies in! That's part of the tragedy too! It's not a 'hot-take' to miss the point of a character because it's the cool fandom opinion of the month actually. I know people are frustrated at the fandom misogyny in how people talk about Morro vs. Harumi and I agree, it is frustrating, but y'all are just spreading around just plain bad takes and that's getting frustrating.

On the topic of missteps, as much as I do like it, I also think it was a misstep in how DOTD handled Morro. In general DOTD has some interesting ideas and concepts but is overall flat and under-cooked. Morro's part in it isn't excluded from that. DOTD brings him back, it shows that he is extremely capable of change and growth, and understanding (which is something you guys like to ignore too, actually). Then, it has him just leave again, die and I understand why but I think it's very genuinely sad in a way I don't think was intended, or well done. I think it backtracks on the narrative weight his conclusion in Possessed had. Possessions' ending for him is sad but it has depth and weight. DOTD just brings him back for fan service, and again, just has him die, and it's because he wants to. I understand they were going for a "at peace" kind of approach with him but it just falls flat in my opinion. If they were going to bring him back, and I know this is kind of a debated topic, I think they should've just kept him. And everyone who says that he wouldn't be capable of change for that is dead-wrong, the show proves it, and just because you don't like it doesn't make it bad. In terms of how it's handled in fanon, I think it's a mixed bag. Some people do it really well, faithful to his character but other times I think he just gets hit with the fanonization beam really hard. Sometimes you see his woobification of him based on the trauma and death he went through, and that erases what makes him and any sort of possible redemption or relationships with him interesting. I think people tend to miss the idea that a redemption is both not something a character has to 'deserve' (because redemption doesn't equal forgiveness) and also something a character has to work towards. The idea a redemption has to be deserved (as a moral concept not a narrative concept), instead of something worked towards by the character presents in people downplaying his actions and effects, but also in people acting like redemption is inherently reductive to his character because he's bad guys, he's a bad guy guys. Bad guys don't deserve redemption guys (/sarcastic). To be entirely real, I do think redemption can and does have a place in his writing. You can't look at how he acted at the end of possession and DOTD and tell me otherwise. Redemption in fiction at the end of the day is a narrative device and trope, and how a character is written informs their development. Additionally, I think some of you guys take his "you can only save those who want to be saved" way way too literally. That, too, is tragic and it's not because it's right. When characters speak, nine times out of ten, you're not supposed to baselessly accept and internalize what they say as correct and true. Was it true when Cole said he wasn't a ninja after dying in the same season? Was it true when Kai said he deserves to be the green ninja, just because he said it? Come on. Also, just, I think sometimes this fandom needs to accept different people find different things appealing and cathartic. It's okay to prefer a tragedy, but it's also okay to prefer the idea of him redeeming himself (because it takes work) and healing. There's this whole argument about whether or not saying he should've gotten a redemption arc (kind of a stupid question to begin with, in my opinion) but at the end of the day, it's already done. Also, both ends of the spectrum can have the most frustrating takes on him, and yeah I'm going to be annoyed and salty about it if you couldn't already tell. Anyways, there's no proper point to this because it's really just be ranting about several things I find really frustrating about how people handle this topic, so take it as you will. You can disagree, but I'm not saying his ending is bad nor that his tragedy is bad. In fact if you disagree I encourage that this fandom is way too prone to just parroting each others (mostly bigger blogs) opinions and not their own personal ones, so yeah.

[yourstrqly]

★ . . . 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘!, 𝐍𝐃𝐕𝟐𝟏

pairing: nyck de vries x schumacher!reader

the second schumacher kid is trolling the paps with her new, still (seemingly) unknown bf

liked by ginaschumacher, sebastianvettel, yourbff and 50

y/nschumacherpriv break from uni never felt better !!

mickschumacher das letzte Bild? Ernsthaft? 🤢 the last picture? you fr y/n?

y/nschumacherpriv sehe kein Problem damit Zwerg ;) don't see a problem with it dwarf

nyckdevries 🖤

liked by y/nschumacherpriv mickschumacher love you too bro y/nschumacherpriv mick u annoying piece if shit, i'm not sharing nycky w u 🗡 mickschumacher he was mine first hoe nyckdevries girls there's enough of me for both of you lilymhe is there really little man? 🧐 nyckdevries oi alex stop using lily's acc for shitting on other people lilymhe NEVER y/nschumacherpriv #cancelalexalbon2023

daily mail — y/n schumacher and boyfriend passionately kissing in the streets of london once again!

at the beginning of july 2023 the middle child of formula one driver michael schumacher and his wife corinna started to tease the public by hanging out with a brunette man, who's yet to identify even through they're openly affectionate.

mick schumacher has shared in an interview with sky that the family already met the boyfriend and couldn't be more happy as he knew him before his sister dated him and trusted him — the youngest schumacher cheekily added that he hoped for the boyfriend to survive his messy loudmouthed sister.

this presented us with an idea: what if y/n is dating another driver? it could be possible as mick mentioned to knowing him first and being close friends.

as long as y/n and her mysterious man won't share their relationship with the public, we have to sit back and wait in anticipation — maybe they'll slip up in the future when trolling the paparazzi.

caption of the story: nyck came back and is still alive 🙏🏻

y/nschumacherpriv ey ich fahre sehr gut sebby :( ey I'm driving very well sebby sebastianvettel klar y/n . . sure y/n y/nschumacherpriv :((

monaco gossip ; EXCLUSIVE — y/n schumacher and boyfriend nyck de vries put on a loved up display as they're on romantic holiday in monaco

y/n schumacher, second daughter of sports couple corinna and michael schumacher, and her boyfriend nyck de vries put on a loved up display as they're on a romantic holiday in monaco, where de vries has lived when he was an active formula one driver.

the 25 years old student went all out with a chill afternoon date, followed by enjoying the sunny weather outside in the streets of monaco, gently kissing each other and holding hands.

schumacher's younger brother mick had shared that he knew his sisters boyfriend before the now cozy looking couple met — which makes sense as mick and nyck both drove for the prema team in formula two years ago. we come to the conclusion, mick had introduced his teammate to his sister and from there romance blossomed.

de vries, gotten dropped by alpha tauri for daniel riccardo, had announced last month to begin studying at the harvard university where his girlfriend also studies by the way!

y/n schumacher and nyck de vries were something we didn't expect but we surely wish them the best.

liked by pierregasly, ginaschmacher, arthur_leclerc and others

nyckdevries snoepje is a bit sad about the fact that the cat and mouse game has finished and our biggest fan dailmail wasnt the one to uncover us. to quote her at our dinner with the friends: they're a bunch of losers. love you snoepje little candy

oscarpiastri dinner was great, y/n should do a cooking class

y/nschumacherpriv thank you my aussie friend, i'd totally do it (you would be my first student) oscarpiastri i dont need cooking classes y/nschumacherpriv they video of rob and you cooking eggs tells me a different story . . . oscarpiastri :(

y/nschumacherpriv i love you hotstuff

nyckdevries 🖤

y/nschumacherpriv you're so hot 🥵

nyckdevries you're hot too aaaaand we could do some hot stuff ;) y/nschumacherpriv gimme ten mins hotstuff charloslestappen NOT THEM BEING HONRY ON MAIN load more comments

midnighcts my eyes ARE blessed. they're HOT, and STUNNING, simply AMAZING, SHOWSTOPPING

alblondos can't decide if i want to be with her, him or both

mickschumacher still can't believe you chose her over me nyck, I thought what we had was enough 😩

y/nschumacherpriv mick, shut up, I won't share him with you, get that in your small brain nyckdevries i'm sorry bro :( mickschumacher its fine, i'm slowly getting over it y/nschumacherpriv wdym with "i'm sorry"?! there's nothing to be sorry abt 😑 nyckdevries . . . y/nschumacherpriv we're done hendrick mickschumacher i have space for you nycky 🥰 ginaschumacher idiots. all of you are idiots

hamiltonslegend the schumacher siblings >>>>>

rina's masterlist ; i really enjoyed writing this and I miss the little man (who's a cm bigger than me but idc he's a smol bean !!)

[airbender-dacyon]

Benlynn Parallels & Analysis

Alright, so this is by no means an exhaustive list, just what I am able to recall right now, but here's some of the Ben & Brooklynn parallels I noticed from Season 1 of Chaos Theory, as well as a few under the cut that are speculation based on trailers and promos from Season 2 (so spoiler warning for those). And I ended up doing more analysis on this than I intended, whoops.

Apologies for the long post, but I wanted to keep any spoilers under the cut and this ended up being much longer than I planned. I also apologize because it's been a minute since I've been able to watch Camp Cretaceous in its entirety and a bit since I last watched S1 of Chaos Theory so I hope my memory is right on most of this.

Also, this is meant to just be a fun post. It is a ship post, but I also acknowledge that the parallels likely don't mean anything beyond they're friends with shared interests/similar traits (if they even mean that).

Dark Jurassic Nerds

"What about that website I showed you?" "OMG. Dark Jurassic? Yes. Amazing." "Isn't it?"

Ben, in a surprising twist to me, was the one to discover Dark Jurassic. When Camp Cretaceous ended, I wouldn't have guessed he would be the one to become invested in a social media site. I will say that it makes sense that Brooklynn, having grown up as a social media influencer, was staying away from social media more after the Nublar Six returned home and that she didn't come across Dark Jurassic sooner. Regardless, the pair are both heavily invested in the website, though Brooklynn seems to have vetted the theories more than Ben, given her interaction with Yaz:

So it seems like Ben had a habit of sending a lot of stuff he found interesting her way, but only a few things, like the Dino Immersion Therapy, Brooklynn found to be legit.

2. "Okay, at first, I was like, ugh. But this view!"

I still think it is surprising that between Ben's flashback and Kenji's flashback, Brooklynn expresses more excitement over the view of a pretty ordinary skyline from the rooftop of a college dormitory that Ben shows her during her surprise visit than she does the bioluminescent Parasaurolophus at sunset amidst cliffs and a waterfall that her boyfriend of 5+ years had planned as a big romantic gesture.

We don't know the exact date when Brooklynn visited Ben at college, so I fully admit that probably plays a big part in the difference in Brooklynn's reaction. Since this is shortly after Ben introduced Brooklynn to Dark Jurassic and we know that 1) Brooklynn visited Yaz 14 months before the start of Season 1 and 2) Kenji broke up with Brooklynn shortly before (at least a few weeks, I believe) her apparent death roughly 6 months before S1, the Benlynn flashback takes place at least 14 months before S1, probably even earlier than that. Heck, it might be 18-24 months before S1. So, obviously Brooklynn is in a much healthier headspace in Ben's flashback whereas she had become obsessed with uncovering the dinosaur trafficking conspiracy by the time of Kenji's flashback, resulting in her indirectly neglecting her relationship with him.

3. Funny Stories, Personal Questions, & Other Shared Interests?

"Uh, yeah. College is great, but sometimes I gotta get outside just to feel like I can breathe." "Weird how it can be so hard to feel normal, now that everything is so... normal." "See those Pteranodons up there?" "Uh-huh." "One of them grabbed a freshman's backpack and took off with it." "No way." "She had to tell her professor that a dinosaur ate her homework." [Brooklynn laughs] "What?" "That's really funny." "Well, not to her. She failed her assignment." [Brooklynn laughs harder] "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. No, I'm sorry, that's really sad." [Snorts] "That's sad." "The point is, I don't know if there's such a thing as normal anymore." "Yeah."

It hadn't been my intention to quote such a large chunk of the flashback, but I do find it interesting how this interaction between these two played out. Ben & Brooklynn had only a handful of scenes - more accurately, a handful of interactions - together in Camp Cretaceous. And so to see these two alone together and enjoying each other's company was refreshing to see. Again, this isn't a 'they shared a moment together, now they're going to end up together' post. The fact that there was a significant flashback that highlighted how Ben & Brooklynn get along, despite not being one of the other's closest friends within the Nublar Six, was a stellar choice. They could have easily done for Ben what they did with Sammy: a very brief, but still impactful memory/vision of Brooklynn.

But in this scene, it's neat that Ben is telling the story to reassure Brooklynn that 1) even though they've been home safe from Nublar for years now, their experiences will never go away and 2) prehistoric wildlife is out in the world, "normal" doesn't really exist and they shouldn't expect it to. Like on Nublar, they have to adapt to the new dynamic. But, intentionally or not, Ben is also telling the story in a very humorous way, which results in Brooklynn's laughter. And whether you see the moment as shippy or just friends, it was pretty adorable to see Ben making Brooklynn laugh.

The scene on the rooftop also begins in a rather interesting way, as Ben's dialogue starts by announcing the rooftop view is his favorite spot on campus, followed by why he goes there/gets outside. So, presumably, Brooklynn had asked him how college was going. And after the Pteranodon story, Ben does something unique to the flashbacks we've seen in Season 1.

He asks Brooklynn how she's been doing.

"Anyway, how's everything with you? Any cool stories you're working on? Wrongs to be righted? Buried truths to be uncovered?" [Laughs] "Trying. It is hard out there for a reformed "social media influencer turned aspiring investigative journalist."

Now again, I fully recognize this is the easiest catalyst in the flashback to introduce Brooklynn's interest/activity in Dark Jurassic. And I also fully recognize that we haven't seen Darius' flashback with Brooklynn yet and Sammy's vision/memory of Brooklynn is too short to really compare to the other three we've seen so far.

However, in Yaz's flashback, we see Brooklynn is the one helping her with the Dino Immersion Therapy and inquiring about how she's doing, why she's there instead of Sammy, etc. And in Kenji's flashback, we see that he's so excited to share the view he's discovered with Brooklynn. And when she is too distracted (presumably by her mission) to acknowledge the beauty of the moment, Kenji breaks up with her and his dialogue suggests this has been happening for a while.

The video recordings of the earlier Kenlynn date and when the Nublar Six returned home at least give us a glimpse into happier times. But with regards to the flashbacks, while Brooklynn is likely there to check up on her friend (unannounced and strangely late in the evening from the looks of it), Ben's flashback is the only one where the focus seems to be on both characters equally rather than Brooklynn acting in a supporting/secondary role in the scene.

A much smaller parallel, likely unintentional, is that Ben and Brooklynn seem to (almost) have matching outfits in the flashback.

Continuing from that, and acknowledging similar outfits is already a stretch, I guess there is a parallel with music? Kinda?

We see in Brooklynn's video call to Darius that she is wearing what looks like a band/album T-shirt and Ben has become quite the fan of rock music. Some of the concept art for Ben's dorm room also showcased several band posters, if I recall correctly.

So, while not a certainty, it seems they could have also developed a connection through similar music tastes, though this is a fair bit of speculation.

4. Boots

Another parallel that's a stretch, but Ben eating food out of a boot seemed really, really odd when it was introduced. Perhaps out of desperation, maybe he accidentally broke his last bowl or ran out of disposable ones? Who knows. An odd choice, especially with the later Ruby Ropes container conversation being weird enough on its own that the food boot seemed excessive.

But then it was shown that Brooklynn also had an unfortunate boot-related habit, though fortunately nowhere near as disgusting. Kenji trips over one of her boots and comments on it, with Darius also having suffered from the problem:

"She was always leaving these in the middle of the floor. It was so annoying. I was so afraid I was gonna-" "Break your neck?" "Did she do that when she was staying with you after we broke up?" [Chuckles] "I swear she did it just to annoy us."

Again, this one's a big stretch, but it felt like a possibility.

5. A specific set of skills

Or, rather, just one skill. I can't remember if any other members of the Nublar Six ever picked any locks throughout the shows, but Ben having a set of dedicated lock picks was an interesting development. All of the N6 have picked up new skills in the time between CC and CT, but Ben's activities - and this skill in particular - seem to mirror a lot of Brooklynn's.

6. Conspiracy Boards

Again, going back to the fact that Brooklynn was more interested in legitimate stories and credible theories, Ben's board is quite a mess while Brooklynn's is more refined. Ben's looking into all the possibilities, no matter how ridiculous they might be, whereas Brooklynn is focused on (presumably) unraveling the dinosaur trafficking conspiracy and anything else nefarious that might be going on in relation to it.

7. Season 1 Bookends (unused)

I don't want to repost the art without permission and I really want to get the post up today, so credit to Brandon Roberts in this concept art post here. It shows Ben on his laptop in his dorm room.

However, I will provide the description Brandon Roberts gave, as well as the confirmation by Scott Kreamer on the post:

This would have been an interesting parallel and way to bookend the season: opening with Ben on Dark Jurassic getting vague messages and closing out with Ronnie sending vague messages to someone on Dark Jurassic and the reveal that it's Brooklynn.

And only time will tell if there is something real between these two. Or it might all be just an illusion.

"There's definitely some pretty out-there stuff on there, but every so often there's something that seems, I don't know..." "Real?" "Real."

And aside from the spoilery speculation below, I think this might be it. There could be other parallels I'd thought of previously, but as of right now, this is all I can remember. If you made it this far, thanks for reading my inane ramblings. I hope you enjoyed!

Also, shoutouts to @p0m0u and @kitabearuwu for being the inspiration for me falling down the Benlynn rabbit hole and continued inspiration since (we'll see if I can get my Benlynn fic done by tomorrow), especially their posts here, here, here, and here. And special thanks to @p0m0u for letting me use the beautiful gifs she made in this post!

Spoilers for Season 2 Trailers & Promo material under the cut!

Starting from what I feel is the weakest parallel to the strongest:

8. Why are you holding that in your mouth?

When I saw the tweezers or tool or whatever fall from Brooklynn's mouth, I swear I'd seen Ben do something like it before in the show. I tried to scour Season 1 of CT to find it, but to no avail. I then remembered where I'd seen something similar, back in Season 4 of CC. Again, leading with the weakest parallel here, but like the boots, I find it interesting and odd that both of them have held things in their mouths - and these are things that probably shouldn't be held in their mouths - only to drop them at some point during the scene. Ben's out of relief that the BRAD is gone, Brooklynn's potentially by whoever is breaking into her location (if the clips immediately before and after are part of the same scene).

9. You're great and I like you, but...

Given that it looks like we'll have a Darius and Brooklynn flashback finally, I have to wonder, will it play out in a similar vein to the Ben & Yaz moment in S4 of CC? We know that Ben mistook Yaz's interest in getting him away from Kenji & Brooklynn so that Kenlynn could develop as romantic interest. What if we see Brooklynn realize Darius' growing affection for her and makes it clear in a similar way?

I'm not saying we'll get a "Darius, look, you're a great guy and I like you. But I just don't like like you." But possibly something similar.

10. What? You've never seen a ghost before?

We'll see if this turns out to be another 'back from the dead' moment or not, but it has that kind of vibe to me. And I have to credit @p0m0u for pointing it out to me originally. Fingers crossed, it seems like a perfect setup for Ben's line to make a comeback!

And I think that's everything for now!

[ladycrocy]

Comfort behind the mask of a Killer

Comfort behind the mask of a Killer

Summary: "Massacre Soldier" Killer has a past. This is just the small story of how a young killer became the pirate we know today. This is an alternate universe that still keeps the setting of one piece. I have also quoted Alexandre Dumas's book "The man in the iron mask" because I thought it fit perfectly.

Warnings: Physical and verbal abuse to a child. Reference to drugs and alcohol. MDNI. VERY SAD.

AO3

Word count: 1784

“I've worn that mask so long I don't feel safe without it.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

A boy without a face. What good was his face anyway if it only brought pain to those he thought he loved. Expressions that were just a reminder of crimes that he didn’t commit. This young blonde boy was named with revenge in mind. “Killer” Came into this world with the burden of his mother’s hatred.

His long shaggy blonde hair was unkempt, but that matched the rags that this child was dressed in.  His mother did little to keep him alive. By the age of four, he was already on the streets to steal from garbage cans. Rotten fruits and vegetables were his normal diet. This caused him to suffer from severe malnutrition. 

“A man is held to be criminal,sometimes, by the great ones of the earth,not because he has committed a crime himself but because he knows of one which has been committed.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

“KILLER! GET IN HERE, YOU CRETEN!” His mother called out to him. He was never allowed inside. He couldn’t help but feel a little excited that she actually wanted to see him. Despite his whole tiny body aching, he ran inside the shack with such vigor. 

Killer had a large smile on his face to greet his mother. He had yet to really speak yet, but he wished to greet his mother as positively as possible. With what he thought would be a warm embrace or at least a happy greeting, he found only pain.

The small boy was knocked to the ground by the side of a bottle. Blood poured from a fresh wound on his head. Dying his blonde waves pink. “How many times have I told you not to smile around me?! You disgust me! He had the same look when he burdened me with you!”

I’m sorry momma I’m sorry momma! Killer wished he could say to her but his words were not forming. If only he had learned to speak faster, perhaps his mother would know how much he loved her. Maybe he could convince her that he wasn’t his father. 

It was such a curse to look like the man that had forced himself in a fit of laughter on one’s mother. Killer couldn’t have been further from that sperm donor. With a pure heart of gold that kept believing one day, she would love him back.

 “A man is bound to make for himself in this world, that fortune which heaven had refused him at his birth.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

February 2nd was the day he found a tattered mask. This was a happy day for Killer. So happy in fact, that he deemed it must have been his birthday. He was unaware of his actual birthday as he had never actually celebrated it. Returning to his mother that night, Killer had brought her what he had stolen. Getting to his knees, he bowed his head to await her approval. It wasn’t much. There was a little food, a half a bottle of cheap wine, and a few unknown pills. His mother didn’t hit him this time. She glared down at him and his ‘mask’. She grabbed the bottle and downed all the pills in one gulp. With her foot, she kicked the food towards him. “I guess even vermin deserves a treat every now and then.”

Killer was elated. His mother had never offered to share, let alone give him all of it. He was so happy that he could cry. It was the mask! It truly was the greatest gift the gods could have given him. Surely now, he and his mother would be able to connect. He would spend the next few days practicing his words. He wished so much to tell his mother that he loved her. 

“Pain, anguish and suffering in human life are always in proportion to the strength with which a man is endowed.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

Everyday for months, Killer looked through the window of a school. He was about 10 at this time. At least that is what he assumed by his size. He had only been keeping up with it himself for 5 years. He was now able to speak very little by mimicking what he heard through the window. That is until the school guard would scare him off. Killer didn’t care. He would come back everyday until he could tell his mother that he loved her and that she didn’t have to hate his face anymore. His plan was solid. He continued to bring her the things she liked the most. Any type of liquor he could get a hold of, and pills of any kind. Now that he wore the mask all the time, his mother allowed him to sleep inside the shack. This was really starting to turn around for the small blonde boy. 

To his great joy, he had found a whole bottle of wine in the garbage dump today! This would please her so much. It took nearly the whole day but he was able to find 3 blue pills. He never knew what they were for. He just knew they made his mother happy and sleepy. The blue ones were her favorite. What a wonderful day this would be. 

He rushed home. Swiftly cutting corners through the slums. Killer dug his heels into the mud to stop himself at his own shack. Barreling into the small housing, he fell to his knees. Presenting the bottle and pills. To his horror he realized he didn’t bring her any food. How could he have forgotten something so important. “M-Mot….the…ther… S-Sor…ry..” He apologized using a voice that was rarely used. This didn’t give him any sympathy or praise or.. Anything. The woman grabbed the bottle and pills just as she had always done. “You should have died at birth, Killer..” Taking the pills she laid down on the floor in the corner next to a single candle. She cradled the bottle and began to sob.

Killer was breathing heavy. His heart breaking in ways his child mind couldn’t comprehend. He wanted to comfort her, but he knew that would only bring him pain. 

So he ran. He ran back to the dump to make up for his horrid mistake. He needed her to see that it was good that he was alive. He would take care of her forever. As long as it took for him to see his dream come true. 

There wasn’t much this time. It had been picked through by the other vagabonds. He was able to find some moldy bread but there was still a lot that was good enough to eat. Maybe this would be enough. Maybe now…

“I am strong against everything, except against the death of those I love. He who dies gains; he who sees others die loses.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

The young blonde was frozen as he saw his tiny shack up in flames. He yelled out with a cracked scream. A blood curdling scream that held the pain of 10 years. Killer ran into the small shack. He saw her still in the corner. She hadn’t moved. It was quick thinking, as Killer jumped for her. Just as he did so a piece of the roof came crashing down on his left arm. His screams fell on uncaring ears. He pulled and tugged until he was able to pull it free. 

The shack burned down around his mother as he watched. He was helpless and possibly bleeding to death. He glanced down at his arm. It was burned and mangled. Just like his heart. Thank the gods for this mask.. No one can see his tears. 

“A man is bound to make for himself in this world, that fortune which heaven had refused him at his birth.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

Two years later, Killer had roamed around the East blue. Sneaking onto boats to get to one place or the next. He landed on an island that was outside the world government. Not very notable, but a place where a homeless 12 year old could find work. Or scraps. 

One day he was in the scrap yard, looking for something to sell. “AHHAA! I DID IT!” Killer heard the voice of another child. He peeked over the piles to see a red headed boy laughing. He was standing proudly over something he had just created. Killer tilted his head at the strange boy. 

The red head felt that he was being watched and turned to see the blonde. He smiled and motioned for him to come closer. “Hey you! Check this out!” The younger boy seemed so different from any other person Killer had ever met.

After the red head explained his newest creation he finally introduced himself. “AH I forgot! The names Eustass Kid! You can just call me captain because I am gonna be King of the pirates! And I am taking you with me! My first mate… uh… what’s ya name?”

Killer had still not used his voice ever since the day he watched his mother die. It was rough and raspy when he replied. “K-Kil…ler..” He looked down ashamed of his voice, rubbing the side of his mask. 

Kid didn’t skip a beat and smacked the back of Killer’s back. “My first mate Killer! What a badass name! Everyone will fear us!” The 8 year old exclaimed with a hearty laughter. He abruptly stopped and looked at the dented mask that Killer wore. “Hey.. hold on a sec…” Kid then jumped into what looked like a pile of scrap metal. He emerged with a welder looking mask in the air. It would keep his face hidden but give him more room to breathe.

Kid handed it to Killer and turned around. It was odd to see such a wild child to have such respect for 

others. Killer replaced the mask and was happy he was able to see better. More room to breath. 

And with that he took a deep breath in, and exhaled. He looked over to Kid and somehow he just knew that Kid knew he was smiling. “K-King of.. Th-.. the P-Pirates!” Killer exclaimed with his arms in the air. His new captain joined in and let out a mighty roar.

“I hope only that you have been able to find a little gold in the ashes.”― lowell blair, The Vicomte de Bragelonne

Thanks for reading! This fanfic was really inspired by my talks with @lxshoxk

[god-complex-12]

Anomia

— Paring; Sgt. John “Soap” MacTavish x male reader. Fandom; Call of Duty: Modern Warfare III

Anomia: (n.) the inability to recall the names of people or things.

Quote; “John MacTavish.”

Description; When someone is gone for so long, you can only remember so much. Disclaimer; SPOILERS TO THE NEW COD:MW3!! Angst, grief, major character death, sad, established relationship, forgetfulness, loneliness.

Word Count: 0.7k

Masterlist

A/N: No, I haven’t watched anything on the lore part of Modern Warfare III, however I have had plenty of spoilers and I’ve seen the specific cutscene of both Soap and Graves (was it Graves?) and TF141 being all sad and pouty.

It’s been months. Months and yet still grief resonates in Y/N. It feels like just yesterday he was embracing such the warm presence of his now dead lover. Y/N can’t sleep. His tired, exhausted demeanor was evident to everyone, but no one dared to ask what was wrong. They too grieved, but not as hard as Y/N did.

Everything feels so dull. So dull and cold. Y/N lies wide awake in his once shared bed. He doesn’t dare lay on John’s side. Even when gone, Y/N couldn’t bring himself to mess with John’s things. The bed felt so much bigger. He never notices when John was deployed, but the sudden immortality of it left Y/N no choice but to realize it.

Y/N doesn’t talk about John and no one asked about him. Y/N finds himself forgetting how to say the man’s name, or maybe it’s just because the name has become so foreign to him. He’s forgotten the sound of John’s voice, desperately searching his camera roll for any recording to remind him. He’s forgotten what it felt like to hold him.

Y/N hates he can’t remember now, but it’s become so hard. The only thing he can’t seem to shake is when he found out.

Y/N stares at the ceiling. His hand wrapped around the metal slabs with numbers in the name “John MacTavish” indented onto it. He plays with the dog tags, looking at them, his thumb running over his boyfriend's name. He doesn’t cry. Not this time at least.

Y/N holds the tag up, so the moonlight from the curtain makes the words more visible. He ignores the rest, his focus just on that name. The room was dead silent except for the sound of a dog breathing.

“John MacTavish.” He whispered. Y/N’s nose scrunched up, cringing. It doesn’t sound right anymore.

Y/N kissed it. He then rolls over and puts the dog tags back in the nightstand drawer. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. This catched the dog’s attention. Y/N stands up and puts his shoes on. He clicks his tongue at Angel. “Come on, girl. Get up.”

She happily gets up, excited for a new adventure as she follows Y/N downstairs. Y/N grabs a jacket, quickly putting it on. He puts Angel’s harness and leash on, grabs his wallet, and out he goes.

Y/N has completely convinced himself he’s just getting fresh air. Getting fresh air and buying flowers at a gas station with a light up sign that says “OPEN 24/7”. Getting fresh air and walking a mile away from home. Getting fresh air and standing in front of a rock with that same damn name.

Y/N’s shaky hands lace the flowers in front of the grave. He knows John’s not really buried there, but he can pretend. He sat down on the damp grass, Angel using this as a chance to try and lick his face to which Y/N quickly pushed her away.

He stared at the name. He nudged Angel and gestured to the gravestone as if she could understand. “Say hi to him. I bet he misses you so much.” He then chuckled. “Probably mad you have to sleep on the floor now. He’s not around to convince me to let you in the bed anymore.” He teased.

Y/N ruffled the dog’s fur. He then kissed Angel’s head. “I bet you miss him too, huh? Upset you have to live with me instead of him?” He asked. “Well, I miss him too, girl.”

[olderthannetfic]

I'm so, so tired of seeing proshippers try to support proshippers getting sent death threats, rape threats, suicide bait, etc. with "don't let the assholes win!" Oh so you don't give a shit about the minor being dogpiled, this is just about an us vs. them thing. Cool cool. Uh, here's the thing, though - maybe the person on the other side of the screen is a person, and thus this "SPITE! Write more out of SPITE and HATE and HATE HARDER THAN THE HATERS!" is going out to a normal-ass human being. And normal-ass human beings are not shounen protagonists who rise up and overcome their rivals out of spite and make a bunch of friends along the way and live for the rivalry yadda yadda. They're just... people. And you're responding to their pain with, "if you take a break from writing you're letting other people win. You're losing. You're failing. Breaks are loser behavior. You're LETTING the people harassing you win, because you suck."

Recently two major authors in my tiny fandom quit and the response from the proship contingency of the fandom has been, "FIGHT THE ANTIS!" "Don't let them win!" and I'm at a loss trying to explain this but like... some people don't want their hobby to be fighting other people. Some people didn't start writing in order to go "I'll show them!" they started writing because they had a cool idea for a story they wanted to tell. Not all of us enjoy "tormenting the antis through good art", to quote one person in my fandom. Sometimes someone just wants to write a story and share it with other people and have people enjoy it.

It's really wild to be the odd one out here but am I the only one who sees "don't let them win! spite! spite should motivate you!" and goes, "I was a depressed teen once and I think that wouldn't have motivated me to do anything"? Because seriously, the fact that no one has expressed anything along the lines of 'you didn't deserve that hate' or 'I hope you're okay' or 'take care of yourself' would probably have made me feel worse as a teen, not better.

IDK, maybe I'm the freak for thinking this is not an optimal approach. I just fail to see this as an inspiring refrain to throw at younger people in fandom. It feels fairly hollow.

(And to the fandom olds about to go "fandom was even worse back in my day, you kids would never have survived" - you realize that's worse, right? That doesn't rebut anything, it just makes me sad for you in addition to young writers. Maybe fandom always sucking is a problem, not a plus. Just a thought.)

--

This particular type of death threat wasn't common back then... but neither is what you describe, in my experience. People who are adjacent to a target often do say more empathetic things, and a fair amount of the "respond with spite" is not to someone leaving over death threats but to more commonplace annoyances that are going to occur at one's local writer's circle and anywhere else.

No, self-styled "proship" circles aren't particularly nice a lot of the time, but this hand-wringing is silly.

Besides, why are you sending me nagging posts projecting onto Olds instead of support? ;)

(I know, I know: it's because I actually am a shounen protagonist.)

[chromations]

The one story that scares me the most away from substance use is Jimmy Page. It's not an easy topic to go by, yet I'm still hesitant to post this.

Finding out the pure severity of Jimmy's health between '75-'83, mainly talking about 1977. This whole topic makes me so sad, but I always keep looking.

More under cut, it's a long post unpacking that year. Feel free to add.

We all know he did heroin, starting in 1975, and that he's always been skinny and underweight. But it started amping up in '76, taking more with a noticeable weight loss.

That man was practically on the brink of death from 1977. Between constant shows, rarely eating save for a liquid diet, rarely sleeping, and his addictions... it's scary. He had a weight goal that'd been just about reached: between 125-130 Ibs at 5'11½". (And while an inaccurate measurement of health for those heavier, this falls into 17 on the BMI chart: severely underweight) He dropped a few waist sizes (men's 29 in '75, down to men's 26) and had refused to talk to Peter Clifton after he'd included wide shots of Jimmy in TSRTS and a single roll of his stomach, as it made his ass "too wide." The black dragon pants didn't fit anymore, and fell off during a show. You can see him in the black dragon suit plus a belt during the Oakland photos. Note that these pants had completely fit him without need of a belt two years prior. He ended up at around a men's 26 waist. He'd stopped eating completely for a few days in a row during some tours.

Safe to say, Jimmy was extremely weight conscious. I think he met the criteria for an eating disorder diagnosis, as well.

There's accounts of him having stage fright and anxiety. He'd show up to '77 tour shows completely exhausted, nodding off constantly. Peter Grant had ended up slapping him awake and giving him coke just so he wouldn't pass out.

Then, there's the Chicago '77 show. Jimmy, sick on stage. His eyes are bloodshot, he's had nothing but orange juice in the past 60 hours, along with no sleep in that time frame. Sick from smack and coke, along with all of the previous factors of being an anxious wreck. It's a wonder he got through the first 7 songs before having to sit down during Ten Years Gone, calling for a 5 minute break, and then canceling the show. He couldn't go on that night, just nearly crumpling to sit. This is the story that scared me the most.

Linked below, the show is recorded up until Robert announces the show is canceled.

https://youtu.be/YVCiBd1oodU?feature=shared

I remember reading this account from Dave Northover (Jones' personal assistant):

This is what shattered my heart, initially reading it. How harshly drugs shattered Jimmy's brain, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. There's also a quote from Jimmy in an interview from the year: "I'm not into solid foods very much. I can't remember when I last had a steak. A few tours ago. It's just that you don't want too much in your stomach when you're playing. And there are some places you can't eat after you come back from the gig." He then notes that the banana daiquiris that he'd been consuming all the time are the answer to any problems, "having that every day and nothing to eat at all."

Additionally, In that interview, Jimmy says that earlier on in Zeppelin, Jimmy "had really been eating" and that he'd tried on the clothes from when he was in school, only for it to be very loose. It worries me more to remember that Jimmy stopped school at the age of 16 and had always been underweight. High metabolism, illness prone, and bouts of glandular fever during his time with The Crusaders (still was a teenager), not improved one bit by his undereating.

It's hurtful to hear how, more often than not, the media will praise a celebrity for their skinny figure, even if they're extremely unhealthy with it. Jimmy Page is no exception, as people praised him for his figure during his age.

Heroin is no joke, and I wouldn't wish the addiction it so easily presents to anyone. Withdrawals and smack sickness is scary to even witness, completely altering the person it grips. People often note how jimmy was an asshole, especially in the late 70s, but when dealing with a heroin addiction, with what is basically an eating disorder, high anxiety, with the goal of living your music, the goal of pleasing the crowd, getting the job done, and most of all, surviving, the way you act isn't at the front of your mind. I'm sure Page was aware he was an asshole, but with what he was dealing with, it's not important. Instant gratification, reward, matters more. Not dying matters more. Getting the next hit matters more. His image mattered more.

No matter how much of an asshole he was, and some of the reprehensible things he'd committed earlier on, I wouldn't wish this upon anyone. You see the light leave his eyes as the years went on, you know that while he recovered, those were the darkest years of his life that we know, and there's a reason he'd rarely talk about it: Who would want to?

I've heard multiple people say that if we hadn't lost Bonham in '80, then within those few years, we would've lost Page. It's a wonder he was able to still go on in the early 80s.

Even comparing photos of him in 73, 75, and 77, you go from a "safer" underweight, to his ribs completely visible.

I'm glad we still have him around. This whole topic is not easy to go by, and while most anti drug campaigns don't sway me much, it's the slow / fast decent into all of this that gives me such a strong reaction.

I don't appreciate seeing the way it's so casually joked about amongst the online zeppelin areas. People do take it seriously, but there's always the insensitive ones.

(Adding on, since I accidentally posted this as a draft)

Many people blame page for the effects of his addiction: Sloppy guitar playing, distancing from the rest of the band, assholery behavior.

You can't fault an addict for falling addicted. You can fault them for starting it, maybe, and you can criticize them for all you want. Still, a heroin addiction isn't just as cigarettes. It's the easiest to fall addicted to, and one of the hardest to quit, especially when a physical dependency is grown. Withdrawal symptoms could start early, and extreme too. Most heroin addicts trying to quit will relapse within the first day or two, it's not easy as that.

Considering how unhelpful the help was at the time, quitting cold turkey at these points would probably worsen his condition for a while, considering how rail thin Jimmy had been. The people around him grew worried, grew mad, and I find myself wondering how he could still pick up the guitar and rail out the LA Forum 1977 show, producing banger shows through 77, yet the shoddiest shows as well.

There could be little done about treatment of eating disorders as well, due to medical knowledge and stigma around it. I'll sympathize with this part, having the experience of one: ED recovery on your own is rough. I don't know how jimmy got out of heroin and an ED, and I don't think the process of that should become business unless necessary.

If you find yourself falling into these vices, seek help. Nothing about this is normal: not the lifestyle, nor the pressures.

Jimmy's case will always haunt me. I'd wish this upon no one.

[sombertide-0]

so i had a fun time talking with @avoidantvoidd this morning and got inspired to write a fic about Desmond being biracial (half white half syrian) and i focused on arab culture and yeah, here it is if anyone's interested

basically it's ramadan and desmond is sad about not being able to properly participate and it kinda fucks up his animus syncing, so becks and shaun decide to do something about it

Desmond comes up from the animus with a gasp, clutching at his throat. He’d been unfocused, hadn’t seen the guard coming at him before it was too late. He coughs, the taste of blood lingering on his tongue as the world steadily slows its spinning. He can hear voices, see faces that aren’t really there, feel the cold metal slicing his neck-

“Desmond!” He’s startled out of his thoughts by a very worried Rebecca. Right, he’s Desmond Miles, he was in the animus, he desynced. He groans and tugs the needle out, hunching over and clutching his stomach.

“Merda, fa male,” he wheezes. He shuts his eyes tightly. “No, wrong language, fuck… Sorry. Give me a minute.”

“What gives, Des? This is the fifth time you’ve desynced in half an hour. We need you to get through this memory.” Her voice sounds far away as he tries to separate himself from Ezio. He recites movie quotes under his breath, tries to remember his days as a bartender, remember what date it is.

It's Ramadan.

Fuck.

“Fuck…”

Shaun glances at Desmond over the rim of his glasses. "You aren't planning on fasting, are you?” Desmond cringes. He didn’t mean to say it out loud. Shaun keeps going. “Fate of the world hanging in the balance and all? We need you at your best, relatively speaking."

Desmond sighs and rubs his face. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced, stubble growing sporadically across his jaw, hair a mess. He shakes his head.

"No. I... I'd like to, but it's... not the same. Alone," he mutters tiredly. Beck and Shaun share a concerned look.

"Try to get some rest, Des," she says, powering down the animus. He nods mutely and stands on unsteady feet, slowly making his way to the room they have their bedrolls in.

"Poor guy," Becks whispers," Must be hard, being so disconnected from his culture." Shaun nods silently, staring as the door to their room shuts behind Desmond. "What do you know about Ramadan?", she asks. Shaun pauses. What does he know?

It's a social holiday, focusing on fasting during the sunlit hours of the day, followed by a big feast with family and friends. It lasts for 29 to 30 days, then is followed by three or four days of Eid, the celebration time. Sweets, gifts, parties, dances, music, it's all community based, and here they are, an American, a brit, and a sad Arab.

He sighs. As much as Shaun loathes Desmond, he can understand the isolation that comes with finding himself in such a different environment. "Okay," he says, "Here's what we're going to do."

Desmond wakes up from his nap not knowing if he feels better or worse. He groans, turns on his side, then the other, before deciding he wouldn't get anymore sleep. He stands, shadows dancing in his vision; Altair, Malik and Maria, sitting together around a warm meal. His stomach growls. God, when was the last time he ate?

No light seeps through the rotted curtains, alerting him that it's night. He must have slept for a while if it's already dark out. The others aren't in their beds though, so it can't be that late.

He slowly makes his way back to what was most likely a living room, before freezing at the door to the sorry excuse of a kitchen they have. Shaun and Rebecca were there, cooking together. Desmond shakes his head to make sure he's actually awake. He can see some of the food they'd already put out: a bowl of fresh dates, kisra and moulah, falafels, salata't rob, even a platter with freshly cut watermelon. When he looks back at what they were preparing now, he could see the telltale golden hue of one of his favorite sweets; basbousa.

Rebecca's the first to notice him standing there in shock. She offers a grin and beckons him to the table. "Hey, Des! We thought you could use a little pick me up," she says. Shaun rolls his eyes, cutting the cake into even squares and placing an almond in the middle of each one.

"Little is quite the understatement, don't you think?", he snarks, wiping his hands clean of the syrup, "We have enough food to feed a small town." Becks shoves his shoulder with a laugh. "Oh hush, this was your idea!" Shaun sputters.

"I- it was not! I simply answered your questions-"

"Then decided to look up the proper recipes and go out and buy the right ingredients and put in the time and effort to make all of this-"

"Listen, it wouldn't be worth anything if we couldn't do the culture justice!", he bristles, face a lovely shade of red. Rebecca snickers and drops the conversation, looking over to Desmond who's still simply staring.

"I...", he starts, swallows the lump in his throat, "What is this?"

Shaun scoffs. "What does it look like? Iftar. And you're late, the sun set over an hour ago."

"Iftar... But you don't celebrate, why...?" Shaun's gaze softens ever so slightly. He shifts his weight from one leg to another. "Well, Rebecca and I have noticed you weren't... performing as well as usual. So, we thought giving you a break and something nice would help get you back to your old self, however poor your performance already was." Desmond laughs despite the jab. "You did this for me. All of this, you..." His voice breaks. Dammit, he's not going to cry, he's not going to cry, he's not-!

Thin arms wrap around him tightly, the smell of rubber and cheap shampoo a strange yet comforting mix.

"You deserve nice things, Des," Rebecca says, rubbing soothing circles on his back. He hugs her tightly in return, tears stinging at his eyes.

He hasn't been able to truly participate in this holiday since he ren away from the farm, not having anyone around him to share it with. It used to be fine, but recently, with Altair's memories still knocking around in his head, and Ezio's celebrations he couldn't get through, it hurt a lot more. He never realized how alone he felt.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly pulls away from Rebecca to give her a warm smile. She gives one back and pats his shoulder. "Come on," she says, taking a seat at the table, "You better eat while it's still warm, I did not spend all this time and effort just for us to get a cold meal."

Desmond laughs. He's about to join her when he notices Shaun standing awkwardly with his arms crossed. The tips of his ears are still pink.

"Shaun?", he calls. The brit perks up. "Yes?" "Thank you." Shaun releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Don't mention it."

As they sit down and break the fast they hadn't started that day with a date, Desmond feels at home for the first time in a long time.

"Ramadan Kareem, Desmond," Shaun says with a hint of a smile. Desmond beams. He can’t help the fondness warming his chest. Maybe… maybe he’d be okay after all. Saving the world can wait for just one night.

“Ramadan Kareem, you guys.”

“… you overcooked the falafels. “

“Just shut it and eat, Miles!”

[lucysarah-c]

Hi ik you’re not taking requests but could you share what you think the canon aot characters would think about gay people?

Hi, dear! How are you?

I feel so giggly when people ask for my opinion on topics; I don't know why. So, I'll take a minute from my birthday to reply!

This is such a good question, and I'll do my best to respond respectfully as someone who isn't part of the LGBTQ+ community. I would say that overall, most characters of AoT, or at least the ones we know well (not like the civilians inside the walls), wouldn't "mind it." For example, I don't believe Erwin, Levi, Hange, Eren, Mikasa, Jean, etc., would mind it or be homophobic. I'll summarize the upcoming rant with a quote I heard once and feel encapsulates my view of the AoT characters:

"The woke of today are the fascists of tomorrow."

It's true. Everything you fight for today to normalize, to create awareness, etc., will hopefully be granted in a few years. Society will evolve, and the new generations will think we are "close-minded" to a certain degree. There will always be homophobic and misogynistic people across generations, but probably one kid or two will call us out in a couple of years. This is great because it means society is learning.

With that said, when I get asked, "Would Levi be misogynistic? Would Levi or Erwin be homophobic?" I always think, "They wouldn't… for their period's standards." I don't think the society within the walls is very open-minded by 2024 standards. Even in my own fic, I write that homosexuality is banned inside the walls, which was the case in many countries until not long ago. In some places, it still happens. Even in societies like Korea, being homosexual isn't "illegal," but you could lose your job if your boss finds out. I follow a YouTuber from Spain who does vlogs about his life in Korea, and he's gay. He has to keep his relationship with his boyfriend secret because his Korean boyfriend could lose his job and family if people found out.

It's extremely sad that people can't live their lives proudly and loudly because of this, but it's a reality even nowadays. So, I don't really think being open about your sexual orientation if you're not a cis heterosexual person would be safe inside the walls.

Now, do I think that AoT characters are homophobic? No. The only characters that come to mind who might be openly homophobic, based on the vibes they give me (not on panels or canon proof, just my feelings), are Folch, Porco, Zackly (because he's an old man), and Zeke. Zeke would probably pretend that he doesn't care but be really homophobic deep down and maybe even use it against someone.

The rest, I don't feel they would be homophobic. Maybe they would make some uncool comments, but mostly out of ignorance rather than hate, like maybe Jean. On the other hand, I do feel like they wouldn't have a 2024 approach to the topic, especially the men. I'm not saying women can't be homophobic, but historically, women and homosexuals have had a more "ally" relationship.

I think this is also due to misogyny. I can see AoT guys being like, "Yeah, we're cool with it… as long as I'm not the one that guy is into," or "As lond as nobody thinks I AM gay," which is a very usual approach for men. They fear other men being into them because men are deep down scared of being treated or seen as they treat women. Men often see gay men as "lacking masculinity," which has nothing to do with it but is usually correlated for heterosexual men. Especially in military settings, barracks, shared showers, locker talks, etc., men are supposed to be "men's environments." Particularly in the scouts, as they are all outcasts of society and very few in number. If they got picky about who they decided to get involved with, they would halve their numbers.

In conclusion, I feel like most of the AoT characters wouldn't mind at all. They might not be open about their sexuality because of societal prejudice, but their opinion about it wouldn't be as "supportive" as many of us are these days.

Thank you so much for your ask! I hope this somehow answers the question!

[idlerin]

I JUST WANNA FEEL YOUR PRESENCE

celebrity!akaashi keiji x f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

the ikarus incident (band au)

+ word count: 3.8k

content — light angst, fluff? fluff!, insecurity, and akaashi keiji being hopelessly in love w u

it's not easy dating one of the most sought out and influential men in the industry. the conflicting schedules and how you always have to share him with the world, but in the end, your heart desires what it desires.

AKAASHI KEIJI didn’t mean to make you feel neglected. You knew that. You knew that. Maybe you could even talk to him about how you’re feeling when you could actually find the means to contact him. Which isn’t anytime soon. You’re hitting your fifth anniversary this weekend and you weren’t even sure if he could make it. You understand of course, it’s not like he could stop a whole event just because his girlfriend wants his company. You weren’t the selfish type, you’ve never been. You would feel guilty if that were to happen. It’s just that, it’s been six months since you’ve last had a proper conversation. Six months filled with missed calls, late texts, ‘i’m sorry’s and ‘it’s okay’ except that it wasn’t. Just because you understood didn’t mean you could shake off the irrationality of wanting his attention.

“You should focus on yourself more, [name],” Kaiya tells you through the phone, you’ve turned to her for your– as you say– immature problems, “Okay, listen to me, you’re always putting others before yourself, try to catch a breather. Your problems are not irrelevant just because they seem quote en quote immature. You’re allowed to whine once in a while, you know? Stop keeping all of your feelings bottled up.”

“I know,” you slump on your bed, placing your phone on your bedside table so you could comfortably place your arms around yourself like the sad lonely potato you are.

“You say you know but I know my advice is going through one ear and out in the other,” Kaiya deadpans, you hear rustling and you could only assume she was baking again.

“To be fair I don’t exactly know how to focus on myself more. You know I’ve always been a bit of a people pleaser and liked to well, focus on others,” you rub your arms as you stare at your ceiling, recalling your high school days. You’d like to think you were tough, but only on the inside.

“A bit? You used to do every favor anyone’s asked of you before I stepped in and made them all shut the fuck up–” you cut her off.

“But what if they really needed my help!” you even used your hands to make a gesture to fully emphasize your point even if she couldn’t see you.

“They were taking advantage of you. There’s a difference between helping someone once and acting like their bell boy.”

“They were our seniors.”

“They were assholes.”

“Assholes are a bit harsh of a term.”

“See! You haven’t changed, maybe just a bit, thanks to yours truly. But you’re still so pure I want to put you in my pocket sometimes and take you away from my brother.”

You laugh, not really believing her when she calls you ‘pure’, “Thanks for distracting me, Kaiya,” you say softly instead, you weren’t even sure if you were heard on the other line.

“You’re welcome, always. I’m sure my brother’s going to show his face to you anytime soon.”

“I hope so,” you murmur.

He doesn’t.

It’s your anniversary.

The time 11:52 PM flashes on your home screen.

You bite your lower lip to stop the tears from flowing as you grip your phone. You’ve been waiting for a text or call from him all day. He was in a different district this week for a fan meeting, lucky fans, you can’t help but think of it in spite. Lines and lines of them, you could only imagine how exhausting it was to entertain them all. You guess he was just too tired to remember your anniversary. Because let’s face the truth that’s been bugging your mind all day, he forgot. He forgot.

He forgot but you were still hopeful enough that he would remember before the day ended.

He forgot and it’s–because his world is constantly moving and it feels like yours is only revolving around him.

He forgot but you understand.

You could think of a hundred different ways the day could’ve been a bit better. And all of them involved him communicating with you in some type of way. But perhaps he really was just too caught up with work. You understand.

But it hurts.

And it’s not okay.

You’re not okay as you tuck your knees to your chest and let yourself cry for the first time in months.

Akaashi only realizes his mistake the next day when he sees the date. You knew of this with the way he frantically called your phone. You merely stared at the screen flashing his contact name, and honestly, you weren’t ready to talk to him yet. As much as you should answer immediately and shout at him for forgetting such an important day, you couldn’t find it in you to show a bit of anger. All you could feel was defeat.

So you stared at the screen, not making a move to pick up your phone. You were willing to suffer the incessant sound of ringing until.. until…

Until he realizes you weren’t going to answer.

It was as difficult as you thought. Ignoring Akaashi Keiji wasn’t something you were good at, but something you were good at, was restraint. It wasn’t difficult since he was miles away from you and it’s not like you weren’t already suffering from the bare minimum of conversation from his side for months. So you’ve managed to hold up the wall, a wall that’s in the brink of shriveling up and collapsing on you because how could you practice restraint when he’s on the other side of the door and not on the other side of a phone.

“[name] can we please talk?” you missed that voice, you clench your fist, there was nothing you wanted more than to open the door and immediately gather him in your arms and say you forgive him.

“I’m sorry,” ah, that word again, how many times have you heard that from him now? But what else could he say or do? There was surely nothing that could soothe you. Akaashi knows you well enough for that, “I’m sorry, please open the door so we can talk.”

You stay silent, giving yourself the privilege of thinking it over.

“Alright.. It’s okay, as long as you’re listening it’s alright, you’re listening, right, my love?” it wasn’t something to gauge out a response from you, because you were heavily intent on giving him the silent treatment.

“I didn’t mean to forget about our anniversary, the event was held up until 10 and right after the band and I had a meeting and I lost track of time. I know that it sounds like an excuse. I'm sorry, there isn’t anything that would justify what I did. I haven’t been a good boyfriend at all these past few months, and you deserve better. But can you please not give up on me?” his voice cracks and you swallow down the words you want to say to reassure him with instead because Akaashi was overthinking these past few days just as much as you, your boyfriend and you were similar in that regard, but you aren’t exactly sure if you could provide reassurance you would mean.

You open the door so abruptly Akaashi almost stumbles inside, the result of leaning on the door. You gather up your courage to look him in the eye enough so your knees wouldn’t grow weak. You were always soft and weak whenever you were around him. Most of the time it would feel like bliss but right now it was only a painful reminder of how you would take whatever he could give you, no matter how much it would break you.

But Kaiya was right, you needed to focus on yourself more.

Akaashi’s eyes lit up the moment he finally catches a glimpse of you but when he saw the look in your eyes he understood immediately what you wanted to convey without saying anything. You gulped trying to control your emotions as you reached for one of his hands so you could grasp it in both of yours, this was your way of saying sorry. A tear slips and you become a silent crying mess in front of him as he tries to process everything.

“[name], are you thinking about.. do you want to break up with me?” Akaashi says it in a fragile tone, it shattered your heart, you didn’t.. mean to.. you didn’t want to feel like this. You just couldn’t help the sobs that rattle your chest, him saying it outright makes it feel more real. That you were actually going through with it. Breaking up with him. Something you’ve thought of thoroughly between these days of silence.

“I.. I,” Akaashi gulps, “It’s.. okay, if you want to,” you watch as his jaw tightens and his forehead ticks for the slightest second, he was trying to act normal for you, so it would be easier, “I don’t want to see you hurt and I know I’ve only been hurting you these past months. If breaking up would be good.. for you, then.. then it’s okay,” he takes a move to take your face in his hands and wipe your tears.

“Ah,” he inhales sharply, you look up to see that he was tearing up too, “Sorry, sorry. It’s just, I couldn’t hold it in,” Akaashi tries to laugh. You attempted to laugh too but it ended up with you shedding more tears.

“Can I hug you?” he asks, “Please?” his voice cracks, your answer was wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

He rests his head in the crook of your neck and that’s when he finally breaks, “[name].. [name] I love you so much.. I.. I don’t want to break up,” he couldn’t control his tears anymore, “Please don’t break up with me. I love you. I don’t want to.. I don’t want to. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I promise I’ll find a way to make it better, I’ll be better for us [name].. please don’t leave..” he hugs you tighter, “..don’t leave me.”

You pat his back, a ridiculous aim to calm him down, this is only one of the few times he’s broken down, you recall a conversation you’ve had with him where he said he could only ever be vulnerable around you, “Keiji,” you say his name as a plead, “I love you.. I love you so much, but I think I need a break from… just everything. But I’m not leaving you, I swear. It isn’t going to be permanent, please give me time?” 

A moment where your cries and his intertwine as you clutch his shoulder as if basking in the last moments you could hold him. It just makes him hold onto you tighter.

“Okay,” Akaashi says after a few minutes of basking in each other’s warmth, “..Okay,” he squeezes you once more before letting go.

“Thank you,” I’m sorry, you mean it, as you stare up at him with watery eyes, you take a step back and close your door with shaky hands. Your last sight of him was of his distraught expression and tear stained cheeks parallel to yours..

I’m sorry.

-

You miss him.

More than ever before.

It’s been 3 months since you’ve broken it off. You’ve cut your contact with him for now but of course you couldn’t truly escape him. His life was just too thoroughly intertwined with yours. You still feel longing for him, but that was inevitable. Things have been better with you, it felt like a step to something better, for the both of you. You’ve tried new hobbies lately, such as your yoga sessions to calm your mind and running every morning. You’ve tried balancing it along with your new job in a traditional publishing house.

Late at night, when you’re all alone and wallowing in self pity you miss him, but you always manage to stop yourself from searching his name on twitter to see what he was up to. It’s been 3 months of no communication and it’s killing you, even if it’s a self-inflicted rule you manage over. But as you said, your lives were too intertwined.

That was why you’re standing in a corner in the Akaashi family reunion beside Kaiya who was arguing with her cousin, who, when left, turned to you.

How could you resist an invitation from Mrs. Akaashi, his mother? She was way too nice to you and you’ve always attended Akaashi family gatherings, what would be your excuse to not attend, surely not anything good enough, but you didn’t even attempt to say no. Because you did want to go.

“The two of you are so obvious,” your best friend rolls her eyes.

“Huh?” you ask, confused while eating a hotdog an auntie gave you.

“My brother and you are. so. obvious,” she points her stick where a hotdog was once to Akaashi who was talking with an Uncle, “He keeps glancing here and looking at you longingly like a lovesick puppy, it’s kinda gross,” she grimaces, “It’s a surprise my other relatives haven’t figured out that you guys have been dating for years. Whenever we have a get together he’s always hanging around somewhere near you like a moth to a flame. What did you feed him dude?”

Your heart ached, you were trying to ignore his presence because you didn’t know how to initiate an interaction that wasn’t going to be awkward. You greeted him stiffly earlier when you were approaching his parents and he was unluckily beside them. You tried to act like you usually would, as if this wasn’t the first time you were seeing him in person after your break up. You didn’t want it to be this way, in fact, you want it to be the opposite. After all these months, you’ve realized you can live without him, but you didn’t want to.

“We dated for years. Not anymore,” you mumble, bad habits die hard, and one of those is your pessimism, but you quickly say something else before she could hound you, “And it’s your fault for always inviting me to your family gatherings, they got used to it, do I look like an Akaashi?” you roll your eyes at her.

“Soon to be,” she winks at you. You blush at the implication, “You’re going to get back together anyways,” Kaiya was so sure of it, when you told her about how you broke up with her brother her immediate reply was ‘He deserves it, he was being stupid. The both of you are too stupidly in love to completely call it off, so let’s talk about my recent dior purchase because look–’.

“Okay but really, you’re family, just not blood-related, my parents love you to the point that I think they considered adopting you once, my aunts and uncles think you’re absolutely adorable, and my nieces and nephews are always looking for “[n/n]-chan”. You’re practically already Akaashi [name],” she gestures dramatically, just then one of her cousins that was arranging the tables to make a big long one for the whole family to sit in says ‘Bring out the food!’

You soon find yourself seated in one of the chairs beside Kaiya, all would be well if Akaashi Keiji hadn’t decided to sit in front of you. Now you were avoiding meeting his eye, oh you only wish for this dinner to go fast and smoothly because you don’t know how long you’re going to last in this avoiding eye contact game.

“[name] when are you going to date our Hiroki?” an auntie asked, catching your attention, they were pertaining to Keiji's cousin. Oh there they go again, they have always teased Hiroki with you since around 4 years ago when he said that his ideal girlfriend was you, the family never let go of it, you always laughed it off since it was harmless, and there was no way you have eyes for any other Akaashi that isn’t Akaashi Keiji.

A few adults laughed, most teasing Hiroki, you distantly heard a choking sound coming from your best friend, and Hiroki himself was very red. You laughed awkwardly before an uncle said something that caught you off-guard.

“I thought Keiji and [name] were in a relationship?” which made your heart beat unbelievably faster. You almost dropped your fork, Kaiya was trying to contain her laughter but she slapped your thigh as if she was saying ‘See? You guys were obvious’ and you did the one thing you didn’t want to do. You locked eyes with Keiji.

Auntie laughed, “Come on honey, our Keiji is too busy being a celebrity to be in a relationship.”

Ouch.

It felt like everything that happened flashed before you and the gaze you were holding with Keiji right now was delicate. It definitely looks like he wants to say something but you stop him with one simple shake of your head. He complies as he always did in your relationship. And just like that, you move your attention elsewhere.

“Hiroki has liked you since forever [name], does he not make moves? Silly boy,” Auntie continues.

“Ma!” Hiroki shouts in embarrassment, “[name] will feel awkward, I’m sorry [name],” he bows his head to you, you shake your head and wave your hands, you wish for the conversation to change to something not revolving around you.

“It’s okay, Auntie just teases a lot,” you chuckle, taking a bite of your carbonara.

“Hiroki nii-san said earlier [name]-chan looked very pretty today!” one of the kids added.

The adults were about to comment rather joyously when Akaashi clanged his glass to get everyone’s attention, “That’s enough guys, [name] is getting uncomfortable,” he says calmly, you were the only one who noticed how there was a slight off in his movement, like he was annoyed but pretending not to be, the vein in his hand that was holding the cup a little too tightly gave it away.

“Keiji has always looked after [name] like his own sister, it’s cute,” Keiji’s older cousin Aiki says.

Your best friend couldn’t contain her laughter then, everyone looked at her as she cackled like a maniac, “Yeah, sure, he totally thinks of her like a sister,” she says, full of mirth. Aiki was sitting on her other side so she was looking at Kaiya like she was out of her mind.

Everyone thought she was just spouting nonsense again and veered into a different topic. You couldn’t help but glance at Keiji who you knew whose gaze on you never faltered.

For some reason, the universe liked to play with you. You didn’t know if it loved you or hated you. Surely trapping you in the kitchen with Akaashi Keiji when he was supposed to be out buying more alcohol with a cousin was a coincidence or maybe methodical plans made by the person you call best friend you’ve spent more than half of your life with. Whatever it was, it led you to this moment with him. You and him, alone. Most of the family were still out in the backyard, the ones that were still awake of course, most of the kids were asleep, the older kids were watching a movie in the living room, the young-adults were with the aunts and uncles drinking outside.

You were planning on staying over and having a sleepover with Kaiya, who was one of the young-adults getting shit faced outside, but you wouldn’t have put it past her to not have meddled in a little with your relationship with her brother before getting shit faced.

You get a glass of water, using it to sober yourself, you haven’t consumed any alcohol, but you didn’t trust yourself to be composed around Akaashi Keiji. So you drink your water, inhaling before you find the right words.

“I miss you,” Keiji spoke first. He was closer than you initially thought, with your back on the entrance you hadn’t realized he was caging you in. His arm is on the counter beside where you’re still holding down the cup. Now you were truly trapped, and this is how you knew that everything was going to be fine.

“Until when is our break going to last?” he says in a trivial way, like he was asking you if you liked the weather. As if he wasn’t saying it directly in your ear, making you shiver. You remember telling him once that you liked how you could feel his voice when he spoke close to your ear. It was something very Keiji to remember and use at a time like this, you expect nothing less than perfect composure while your insides are malfunctioning.

“Keiji,” you finally turn to face him, but you don't have much room to work with, quite literally. Your hands are behind you on the counter as you look up at Akaashi and soak in his features. You missed everything, his voice, his eyes, his perfume. Everything that makes him, him. He reaches a hand out to gently cup your face, he looks into your eyes, testing the waters. If you would allow him to touch you so he could ground himself. As if feeling you was getting back his sense of reality.

“You look better,” he murmurs, using his thumb to caress your cheek, “I’m glad,” he smiles.

“Thank you for giving me time,” you place your hand over his, leaning into his touch more, “I’m sorry too,” you say.

“I should be the one saying sorry,” Akaashi’s brows furrow, “I still haven’t made it up to you.”

“So.. should we start again?” you say in a soft voice, shyly looking up at him through your lashes.

Akaashi leans down to place a kiss on your forehead, as if it was something he had wanted to do all evening, “We’re picking up where we left off.”

“That sounds nice,” you murmur, tilting your head up to place a sweet kiss on Keiji’s cheek. “We still have a lot to talk about,” you add, reaching over to brush his hair out of his face while his hands have moved down to your waist.

“And as I said, I have a lot of making up to do. I’m sorry for everything I put you through,” Akaashi has a troubled expression on his face, “I won’t make the same mistakes again. I can’t promise you that it would be easy dating me, you know that it isn’t, because of my job. That’s why I’m so thankful you've still stuck with me all these years despite all my misgivings. I love you, so much. And I.. want to show you off to the world, my love.”

You bite your lower lip, it was here, another step in your relationship, “Let’s start with your family?”

Akaashi couldn’t help but pull you in for a kiss, one that leaves you gasping and breathless, “I love you,” you say.

“Stay with me forever,” Akaashi states, not even giving you a choice, it makes you laugh with giddiness, you were the only one who got to see this side of him.

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Being selfish once in a while felt nice.

a/n — guys i have to wake up for school in like less than 2 hrs but my brain said no syl finish your akaashi fic and i listened to my monster

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