#they put crack in that soundtrack man

[plutotown]

IT'S SOME KINDA LOVE ❤️ IT'S SOME KIND OF FIRE 🔥 I'M ALREADY UP 🆙👆⬆️ BUT YOU 🫵 LIFT 🏋️‍♂️ ME HIGHER 🙌 YOU KNOW 🤔 I'M NOT 🪢 WRONG 🚫 YOU KNOW 🤔 I'M NOT 🪢 LYING 🙅‍♀️ WE DO IT BETTER ‼️ WE DO IT BETTER ‼️ YEAH 😎 AND I 👁️ DON'T 🚫 MIND 🧠 IF THE WORLD 🌎 SPINS 🌪️ FASTER 💨 THE MUSIC'S 🎶 LOUDER 🔊 THE WAVES 🌊 GET STRONGER 💪 I 👁️ DON'T 🚫 MIND 🧠 IF THE WORLD 🌎 SPINS 🌪️ FASTER 💨 FASTER 💨 FASTER 💨 JUST LET ME TAKE YOU 🫵 TO A BETTER PLACE 🏞️ I'M GONNA MAKE YA KISS 😘 THE SKY 🌃TONIGHT 😴 YEAH IF YOU 🫵 LET ME SHOW THE WAY 🗺️ I'M SO EXCITED 🤪 TO SEE YOU 🫵 EXCITED 🤪 I'LL TAKE YOU 🫵 TO A BETTER PLACE 🏞️ AND BABY 👶 YOU 🫵 CAN 🥫 LOVE ❤️ ME ON THE WAY 🚗 WE'RE FLYING 🛫 UP 🆙👆⬆️ TO OUTER SPACE 🛸🪐 I'M SO EXCITED 🤪 TO SEE YOU 🫵 EXCITED 🤪 YEAH 😎 I 👁️ DON'T 🚫 MIND 🧠 IF THE WORLD 🌎 SPINS 🌪️ FASTER 💨 THE MUSIC'S 🎶 LOUDER 🔊 THE WAVES 🌊 GET STRONGER 💪 I 👁️ DON'T 🚫 MIND 🧠 IF THE WORLD 🌎 SPINS 🌪️ FASTER 💨 FASTER 💨 FASTER 💨 JUST LET ME TAKE YOU 🫵 TO A BETTER PLACE 🏞️

[willwriteforhugs]

i feel totally normal about this piece of art actually

[sophiegoose]

I mean this completely and utterly unironically

The Barbie movie soundtrack is so good for writing fanfic to

Idk what it is about it but I am

Inspired

[hades-in-bloom]

Scars

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: thinking of Leon’s scars (with a little bit of touching).

warnings & contents: fluff; assumed older Leon (more of RE6 and Vendetta, although I keep using ID! to illustrate); could be age gap, could be none; lots of cuddling; mentions of violence (sorta); the reader could be any gender; no mentions of y/n

a/n: a blurb, because I can. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

soundtrack: billie eilish — when the party’s over

***

Leon’s figure was resting on top of the bedsheets, his bare back exposed to one’s curious sight with his features relaxed, while he was catching up on hours of sleep he was deprived of this week; thanks to another one of those excruciating missions. You couldn’t hold back a small smile; he looked so peaceful, lying there with disheveled dirty blonde hair and not a glimpse of worry on his face—something you would die to see more often after everything he has endured.

You were doing your best to stay as quiet as humanly possible so you wouldn’t wake him up when your gaze got drawn to the network of scars, interspersed with moles, scattered across his pale skin. There were a couple of fresh bruises flourishing into purple and yellow blobs, too, adding to a rich picture. You winced like you could feel his pain. You’d never get used to seeing him this way—seeing him hurt.

Your touch was lighter than one of a feather when your fingers slid over one of his scars, tracing its shape slowly, with care. This one seemed to be old, fading away over the years, thus one of the rarest ones—as there were many more those anew, coming in different shapes and shades of pink. It didn’t matter, though, how many of them were on Kennedy’s body—you knew them all, keeping the count.

You pulled your hand away in a swift motion as you felt Leon stir. He was still half-asleep when he opened his eyes a crack, his gaze fixed on your features. You looked guilty.

“Hey,” he muttered hoarsely with a faint smile. He didn’t sound irritated—rather exhausted. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, sweetheart?”

You chuckled softly as you eliminated the distance between the two of you, and then rested your head on the edge of his pillow. His hand immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.” You pressed your lips against his forehead. You kept your voice barely above the whisper, hoping he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He hummed, “It’s okay,” with his eyes almost shut again, as his mind stayed in the half-place between awakeness and dreams. His thumb caressed your side mindlessly, soothing himself down.

You put your hands on his back in a kind of hug, feeling the bumps of his scars under your fingers.

“You have never told me their stories,” you said quietly, cradling him with your touch.

Leon’s body tensed slightly, his face now hidden in the crook of your neck. His warm and even breathing sent shivers down your spine.

The man became silent for a moment, taking his time before he replied, “I don’t believe these are stories that I should make you listen to.”

He preferred not to bring his work home.

You didn’t insist—you have always respected his choices. You left a kiss on his temple while Leon hugged you tighter.

“I’ll listen to anything you’d be willing to tell me, handsome.”

He smiled; you could feel his lips stretching out on the skin of your neck. It wasn’t a trust issue; Kennedy could tell that much—but he needed time to gather the courage to drag you into his waking nightmare.

“Maybe one day, sweetheart,” Leon sighed deeply, his tone calm as he admitted; his eyes now closed. “Maybe one day.”

You spent the next minutes running fingers through his hair until he drifted back into a blissful sleep.

[lnfours]

* ✰. — a million times yes | l.n

summary: maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two. hash brown, egg yolk, i will always love you ; or the final part to the mini valentine’s day playlist

warnings: language, fluff, fluff and more fluff. it’s finally here!!!

masterlist | back to the playlist | listen to the soundtrack

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

the sun shining through the sheer curtains in your bedroom wasn’t what woke you up, but instead it was the smell of maple and coffee. you stretched your limbs out, various joints cracking and popping as you reached your arm out to the other side of the bed to be met with emptiness. you furrowed an eyebrow and squinted one eye open to lando’s side of the bed, the side that was lacking his warm body that you were planning on cuddling back into.

instead, you were met with the covers being pushed more over to your side to make sure you weren’t going to freeze without him, something he did every morning when you didn’t feel like getting out of bed just yet. a little sign of his love he left with you every morning without your knowledge.

you managed to pull yourself from the warmth and grabbed the hoodie that laid on the floor by the foot of the bed. you tugged it over your head, letting it bask you in warmth and his scent as you looked around at the scattered clothes on his bedroom floor. you smiled softly to yourself, thinking about the previous night before you let your feet carry you into the hallway.

“lan?” you called out to him, following the sound of the soft music coming from the kitchen.

“in here, baby,” he called back to you as you entered the room. you smiled at the sight of him, bare chested and in a pair of sweatpants. hair still damp, a signal that he had showered not too long ago. he was standing at the stove, checking the edges of the pancake he had just poured into the pan.

you hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist. your hands touched his abdomen and it constricted upon your touch and he yelped, “christ, you’re freezing,”

you pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder, right next to one of the moles that freckled his soft, tan skin. you'd be lying if you said you hadn't spent the past two years memorizing the patterns of them, “and you’re warm.”

he smiled bringing one of your hands to his chest as he held it there, flipping the pancake with the spatula that sat in his other hand, “made you some coffee.”

“you’re quite literally my favorite human ever.”

he snickered, “it’s an honor to be loved by you.”

you smirked back, standing on your tip toes and planting a kiss to the corner of his jaw before walking towards the coffee pot, “what made you want to make breakfast this morning?”

“what makes you think i want anything?” he asked, raising a hand to his chest in fake hurt as the other turned off the stove in front of him, “a man can’t do something nice for his girl?”

you narrowed your eyes at him over the edge of your coffee mug, “i love you, but you’re a very bad liar.”

he turned the stove off, laughing softly, “you’ve told me before.”

“so, what’s up?” you asked, eyes searching his now as he met your eyes. truth be told, lando wasn’t necessarily good with his words. he was normally a man of few, but kind, loving or supportive, words, so communicating how he was feeling without rambling at this given second was a challenge.

he swallowed and you looked at him concerned now, putting your mug on the counter and grabbing his hand, “lando, baby, what’s wrong? you okay?”

he nodded, smiling quickly, “yeah no, i’m okay,” he smiled and you let out a soft sigh of relief before he spoke again, “i just…”

“it’s okay, take your time,” your eyes were soft and he felt himself melting all over again. just like he had at that stupid wedding. you smiled back at him and kissed his palm before placing it on your cheek, your gentle reminder to him that you were here and not going anywhere, “no rush.”

“let’s get married.” he blurted.

you looked at the boy in front of you, his pupils swallowing the gorgeous blue-ish green of his eyes, his throat bobbing as he swallowed down the fear of you shooting him down right away. you were frozen, however. blinking at the man you loved as you tried to make sure you heard him right.

he hadn't meant for it to come out this way and now he felt himself backpedaling at the sight of your wide eyes, “'m sorry, i’m-“

“no,” you said and he raised an eyebrow before you quickly shook your head, “no. not no, no, i mean no as in… don’t apologize.”

he licked his lips before continuing, “i mean it’s always been you, but i guess last night when we saw that couple get engaged at the park, and how i was wishing we were them, i guess that’s when it all finally clicked.”

you smiled softly, completely understanding what he was feeling because you were feeling it too. the talks about weddings and marriage that had been infiltrating your conversations with pietra, had got you thinking. and truth be told, nothing excited you more. nothing made you feel giddy and happy like the thought of meeting him at the end of the isle in a pretty white dress and celebrating your love with the people you loved most.

"let me redo this," you chuckled and he laughed softly with you, "ask me again,”

he smiled, “do you wanna get married?”

“a million times yes.” you breathed out, a smile on your face.

the both of you laughed softly as he pulled you closer to him. he pressed a sweet, loving kiss to your lips before he picked you up off your feet. you squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck before giggling as he walked you towards the living room, “what about breakfast?”

he leaned in for another kiss, sitting down on the couch with you in his lap, “we have a microwave.”

[superblysubpar]

"Summer Sunday nights we'd sink into our seats right as they dimmed out all the lights. A technicolor world made out of music and machine. It called me to be on that screen and live inside each scene."

Just Another Day of Sun

steve harrington x fem!reader | a sunday kind of love story

summary: a stranger and you have the same sunday rituals

3,011 words

My blog is 18+ | cw: slight descriptions and/or mentions of anxiety and anxiety symptoms - and specific anxiety about phone calls, descriptions of big feelings about the big world and our meaning and purpose / mentions of having a father, mother, brother, and a couple familiar friends - though none described physically or in depth / small mention of cat allergy / alcohol mention, use

James Taylor’s voice cracks, it skips, and then it’s gone.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Focused on turning the cord in it’s jack, you don’t realize your question meant for your ancient Zune’s ears only, was timed perfectly with a lull in espresso machines, orders, and even music. A gift from the god of irony as an opportunity for everyone to stop their clinking of spoons in cups, for the laughter of a joke to trail off and prepare for another, presents itself while your question lingers in the air and then finally a pop playlist transitions to an even more annoying track overhead. 

Eyes blink at you, heads turn, and your cheeks warm as you shove the earbuds and device into your backpack in precisely the same way you’d bargain put you into this predicament. Your father’s voice warbles in your ears about taking care of possessions if you wanted them to last. 

You shove them harder into the bulging pack and zip it fast and dangerously close to the cord in a blatant act of revenge and defiance. 

It seems the universe is done with it’s cruel irony (for the time being) when the barista calls your name with a sigh fit for someone much older who’s lived a much longer life. As you grab your coffee they add on a dull and deeply dreary, “Have a nice day.” that makes you feel like they don’t want you to have a nice day at all, not even in the slightest. 

A quiet, “Thanks, you too,” slips past your lips, but the angsty teen is already popping a lid on another cup and calling out some other name with an equal, if not more, amount of disdain dripping from each letter. 

As your sunglasses slide over your eyes and cinnamon hits your nose, a pleasant low toned voice tells them thanks, to have a great rest of theirs too, though much louder than your pitiful response. 

Your palm meets cool glass as you push the door open with a sigh, almost masking the murmured thanks from the man behind you as you hold it open for him. His keys jangle on a carabiner attached to his belt loop when he grabs the door from you, looking over his shoulder with a smile to hold it for the next person. A small, “Mhm”, hums out of you as your fingers hook into your backpack straps and the coffee rises to your lips once more. 

Without James’ voice crooning in your ears and distracting your brain, thoughts have more room to venture, to take roots, to swell and consume. Only making the walk from the coffee shop to the book store that much longer, and far less enjoyable than it normally is. The lyrics and the steady beat of a song, the magic of instruments coming together with a voice in your eardrums is an unsatisfied craving, a crutch far more addicting than the coffee in your hand. 

When there’s music playing, it’s easy to slip into daydreams, to pretend it’s a soundtrack to a movie that someone’s enjoying somewhere. Easy to imagine scenarios of yourself on a big screen, with rhyme and reason, with a plot - a beginning, a middle, and an end that’s purposeful, well thought out. 

And if it’s all a part of some grand plan, some story the audience is privy to that you aren’t, you’re able to conclude that your purpose may be for someone else to relate to you. You are a lesson, a theme, a comfort they’ll curl up in front of when they’re feeling exactly how you’re feeling right now. When they need the reminder it gets better. When they need the reminder they’re not alone.

But, you don’t have your music today. 

So there is no soundtrack, there is no reason, there is only the great big world full of great big questions full of billions of living things, yet you are alone. 

At least, that’s what your brain wants you to think. 

So when a car drives by blaring a song that reminds you of him, you work against that pesky brain and you text your brother, asking if he has any new music he’s enjoying lately. A few moments later, the bookstore just around the corner, your phone dings with a link - “The Good Shit - Part 2” a playlist from him and a text that says:

“I require your thoughts and concerns next Friday over pizza, please. And I promise there’s only two screamo angsty songs.”

It dings again.

“Okay, four.”

The smile rests easy on your face as you reach the rolling carts lining the sidewalk. The sun reflects off of the glass, and your fingers glide over it it when the gray kitten sitting in its rays presses her nose to you from the other side. Her mouth parts in an inaudible meow and you tap your fingers gently before moving on to feeling the pages graze the pads of them. 

Despite being in the fresh air, the smell is all consuming. It’s that perfect smell that no candle, no matter how good, can fully capture. Old but not musty, somehow reminding you of a lake and cool breezes but nothing dank or dark like water damage would normally grant. Soft covers and broken bindings that makes books thwop open over your thighs as you crouch in a squat to figure out if something piques your interest enough to purchase.

Your phone doesn’t last long in the pocket it was returned to after messaging your brother when you find a book of poetry. There’s a handwritten note on the inside cover that your fingers brush, yearning to know who Morgan is and where she is now, and if she’s the one who wrote on the pages, who underlined and dog earred, or if it was someone before or after her. 

A particular poem catches your eye, your lips part as you read it, though no words escape them. Something in your chest aches, and you snap a photo of it, sending a message to her of the image and a single line that says ‘thinking of you’ and slip the book on top of the worn and well loved copy of Franny and Zooey you’ve already discovered and claimed for yourself and the romantic comedy for your mom.

The door chimes as you make your way to the counter to purchase your finds, though not without a proper hello and a scratch behind the new store kitten’s ears, her purrs seeming to echo amidst the quiet shelves. 

“Hey little lady,” you whisper as she nuzzles into your fingers and lets out a soft meow. The space between her ears begs to be kissed as she paws at your thumb and you murmur, “Don’t give me that look, you know I can’t. My face’ll get all red and puffy and we don’t want that, do we?”

She hops off of the bookshelf without warning and darts into the aisle, a hand grabs a coffee to go cup from the ground just as she pounces and he taunts, “Oooh, so close. Maybe next time kiddo.”

The kitten weaves in and out of his legs as he stands and faces away from you, carefully stepping as she follows and meows and he speaks to her again, something that you can’t quite make out, and you frown. 

Traitor. 

And you’re not alone in this thought, the cashier smiles at you as you set your books next to the old register and she muses with raised eyebrows, “I think you have competition.”

“Nah, she just wants him for his coffee. I’m still number one.”

The cashier smiles at something over your shoulder as she punches in the book totals, and you turn to see for yourself.

He squats slowly, outreaching his hand towards her from a few feet away, speaking softly. His carabiner jangles and you realize it’s the same man from the coffee shop when he talks in the same low and soothing tone as the cat hears the sound too. 

“Oh?” He pulls the keys from the belt loop and jangles them in front of her as she steps closer and closer, “We like keys?”

His cheek pulls up in a grin, pushing two freckles that dot it up as he gets to pet her. 

“Careful,” the cashier calls out to him with a fondness, “She’ll steal them and you’ll never see them again.”

The stranger turns to face you both and your breath catches from his laugh before his attention is back on the kitten, who flops over and lets him fawn over her while she purrs. 

The cashier holds out your books to you with a smug grin. “Still think you’re number one?”

“Yes,” you nod determined, voice quieter as you add on, “Coffee and carabiners and cheek freckles will come and go, but I am a sure thing every Sunday, and she knows it.”

She hums and nods, something glinting in her eyes as she says, “I’ll see you next week.”

Leaving your little oasis is easier than it was getting there. 

Despite no soundtrack still, the coffee is in your system, and the energy of the bookstore envelopes you, the smell lingers on your clothes, letting you can carry a little piece of its calm and comfort with you to keep going. 

Soon your backpack bulges no longer, the blanket rolled out over a perfect spot of grass in the park, your notebooks and books and pens surround where you lay on it. A small bag of peaches and cherries you snagged from the little farmer’s market between here and the store and an iced tea fuel your writing for a good hour.

It feels good, like the words aren’t sitting on the tip of your tongue, but jumping off of it headfirst like a diving board and the page their pool. Without your music though, it’s easy for small thoughts to attempt to linger. They make the water a little murky, some of the words peeking over the board to see just how high they have to fall before they take the leap. 

The rewrite of one sentence in particular has you wondering if that feeling ever goes away. If you will ever stop doubting you’ve made the right choice. What if one sentence becomes your defining moment? The line that breaks the script, the pitch, the story? Even worse, what if it’s all of the lines? What if you’re not as good as you think? Who are you to think you can do this? 

But an image of a little girl in a chair too big for her staring up at a screen that glows while a long and seemingly never ending list of names scrolls, and another who’s in bed with a book light and telling her parents one more chapter till the sun is starting to rise, has you roll your shoulders back and make your brain think of different questions. 

What if you write a story that changes someone’s life? What if you write a story that gives someone their big break? What if you write a story that provides jobs, makes dreamers, encourages and supports hope and love? What if you write a story that makes even one person in this great big world, with great big questions, feel a little less alone?

So you keep writing, and the sun slants over your body in different squares and triangles as it shifts in the sky and the breeze blows your pages and kisses your cheeks and you think about the movies and writers you dream of making and whom you aspire to be like. 

When you bite into a second peach, your eyelashes flutter closed, tongue catching juice on your bottom lip, and you don’t think twice about reaching for your phone. 

You do, however, think twice about your text, over-analyzing a joke about a peach as thick and juicy as how you want your ass to be. But instead you opt for:

Do you remember when you said something about peaches, I can’t remember exactly, but something about searching your whole life for the right one, but knowing that none will ever live up to the one you just had and you’re depressed you’ll never taste that again?

Her dots appear and then a message of:

“Of course. I’ll never forget that peach.”

You smile and type back:

“I think I just found mine.”

The phone starts ringing, her contact photo filling the screen and making you smile wider. Though your thumb hesitates, you take a deep breath and answer. 

“Hello?” Your fingers fiddle with the grass in front of you, eyes glancing around the park and catching on one person in particular.

“Hi,” she says, and you swear you can hear the smile, and you hate that she isn’t close enough to be having this conversation in person. Especially when she tacks on, “Tell me about this peach.”

Your laugh is real, and present, and happy, and the stranger you’re staring at looks up at the sound.

The same messy brown hair flops over his forehead, his body laid out on his own blanket just a ways from yours. A bag of pea pods rests next to folded arms that hold a book, those same two freckles lift as he smiles at you with a nod as you look down from being caught ogling. 

“Right,” you clear your throat, “The peach. So…”

Which is why, much later, you snap a picture of the sunset from the patio. The sky looks exactly like the peach you’ll never have again. The perfect combination of oranges and pinks merging with blue to make a deep gold and maroon, hand painted sort of scene, that pairs perfectly with the glass of red wine you’re sipping. You send it to them with the words “Are you kidding me?”. 

You’re mesmerized by the sky above the twinkling marquee across the road and as the colors shift once more, you lift your phone to snap another photo, knowing it won’t ever look half as good as it does in person. The slow of dark jeans and white sneakers to your right on the sidewalk have you dropping your phone.

“Go ahead-“

“No, take your-“

Both of you speak and stop at the same time.

The stranger from the coffee shop, the bookstore, and the park stands in front of you, blinking. Up close, you can spot even more freckles than the two dotting his cheek, noticing another pair that rest just above the collar of his white tshirt. His eyes sparkle, and remind you a little of honey and cinnamon and the perfect coffee you had this morning. 

He raises his hands in surrender and you swallow at the glint of a silver bracelet that matches the chain around his neck, more freckles accenting tanned skin and muscular arms. 

“I swear,” he laughs, “I’m not stalking you.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Your lips purse and your eyes narrow. 

He grins as his hands slowly fall, his tongue darts out over his lower lip before he speaks again. 

“Well, I don’t know, maybe because you’re stalking me, and so naturally, you’d assume I’m lying and doing the same thing.”

A scoff and a laugh mix inside of you and tumble out and you shake your head, voice rising, “What?! You have gotten to every place today after me. So how could I possibly be the stalker and not the stalkee?”

His head is shaking no already, before you even finish the question. But he waits till you’re finished and points at you. “Nope. I got to the park first. And I do this every Sunday, so maybe you’ve been quietly watching me and formulated this pla-“

“No, no, no,” your hands wave as you cut him off, laughing, “I do this every Sunday.”

He narrows his eyes this time, his smile contagious as he asks, “Why don’t I believe you?”

It’s here, as this man smiles at you, and you smile at him, and the sunset is perfect, that you wish for the music most of all. 

Because you shrug and somehow think to say, “Well, if I was stalking you, I’d probably know your name.”

He nods, his grin settling in a smaller, though still just as charismatic of a smile. “Fair,” he sticks out his hand and you shake it as he says, “Steve Harrington.”

“Nice to meet you Steve the stalker Harrington,” you reply, telling him your own name too. 

It’s here, on this patio sidewalk, his hand only just starting to slip out of yours, that you think you don’t need it, because you can almost hear it. The music that’s supposed to tell you how to feel, to tell you this isn’t real, this doesn’t happen to you - to real people. To remember it, cherish it, feel it.  

Because then he says your name and looks at the theater, then back at you, “If I were the stalker, I feel like I’d know if you were going to Casablanca alone, and if you were going alone, that there wasn’t anyone who’d be upset if I asked if I could sit next to you during it? Maybe walk you home afterwards?”

He rocks back on his heels, cheeks flushed a little pink, but a hopeful smile at the prospect of your answer to his very forward questions. 

It could be bravery, or maybe insanity, that has you playing along, “I think the only person that might have a problem with it, is this guy that’s been following me around all day, maybe you know him?” Steve smiles as you talk with your hands, then snap your fingers and point at him, “He actually looks a lot like you.”

But maybe it was because, though muffled from your bag, James Taylor’s voice decided in that pause between Steve's hopeful question and your 'what if' fueled leap of an answer, to return. The music and lyrics of Golden Moments unmistakable, and the message clear. 

You weren’t finishing this Sunday alone. 

AN: Quite literally one of the most self indulgent things I’ve ever written. Literally, as just one example, the image in the header is of a theater in Minnesota. If you’ve followed BICFTF, that theater, is the very theater my parents were on their way to when their car slide on the ice and my dad protected my mom when they had been dating. I took part of my engagement photos in front of it. I saw all three Lord of the Rings there for my very first time watching (in one sitting!). Anyways, the point is - There’s a whole lot of ME in this, and while I mainly wrote it for myself, I really wanted to share it and this world I’ve come up with. I came up with this little AU idea while tipsy on peach margaritas and feeling quite sad. I wanna thank @palmtreesx3 and @curiositydooropened and the lovely anons who sent messages and indulged my need for comfort in a fictional man. It meant so much to me & made getting to another day of sun much easier 💛 . And I can’t quite ever thank @loveshotzz and @sweetsweetjellybean enough, their constant patience, encouragement, love and friendship - who they are, are at the core of my rhyme and reason.

[rendy-a]

amh if possible could hoy make hdcns for the dorm leaders ( separately ) reacting to their mc fem explaining the marvel universe and then puts them to watch the movies hehe ( ..also mc's fav hero is dead-pool ;) bc it gives me laugh imagine their reactions about this xd) , thanks in advance and take care<33

This certainly ended up being a little bit of a crack fic but it ended up amusing. Hope you enjoy it.

At first, he scoffs as such a time-wasting thing as wanting to watch dozens of movies.  Where is the educational value in this?

He is just too polite to refuse to listen, so he’ll end up letting you describe all your favorite scenes to him.

You are better off if he doesn’t take an interest because, if he does, he is going to turn into the worst sort of comic book geek.  Be ready to have him quote lore from issues of source material at you during any discussion on this from now on.

What do you mean who would win?  In Volume 3 #3, Thor clearly defeated Iron Man.  Don’t get upset Prefect, I don’t write the lore, I just recite it.

Doesn’t appear to be interested but, if you pause long enough, he’ll prompt you to go on.  It’s important to you, so he’ll try to care at least a little.

You’d never tell him this, but you love to banter with him because it reminds you of your favorite character.  Sometimes you wonder if he’d be pleased or offended to know who you remind him of.

Movie marathons?  Not only is he willing to do them with you, but he is also often the one who suggests them.  Don’t be deceived though, it’s not for the movie but for the quality nap time on the couch with you. 

Don’t turn that off, Herbivore, I’m watching it.  What do you mean I don’t know what’s going on?  This is the part where we learn her mom isn’t dead after all.  So quiet down and keep the lights off.

Please, he is in Board Game Club with Idia. You think this is the first time he has hmmm’d himself through a conversation about fictional characters?

Wait, you say that this makes a ton of money?  Tell him more about this merchandising and licensing.  Especially that, what do you call it…ah, Happy Meal.

You can eventually talk him into watching the movies with you for ‘research purposes.’  When you do, you can’t help but notice how teary-eyed he gets at the sad scenes.  He’s just so sensitive!

Deadpool is also his favorite character.  He feels a sort of connection to certain parts of his story.

So, she chooses to stay with him even though he looks like that?  No, I’m not blubbering.  No, I don’t need you to cuddle with me.  Ok, fine.  Just for a little while. 

He doesn’t get it, but he still loves it.  Sure, you have to explain everything to him three times, but he gets excited over your excitement.  Call him any time to talk about your theories on how things would have gone if Thanos had made a different wish on the infinity gauntlet.  He doesn’t mind if it’s 3 AM (just don’t let Jamil find out).

Movie marathons turn into parties.  Why just watch the movies when you can have themed snacks and dress up too?  Hulk smash cakes and Black Widow berry cobbler?  Yes, please.

His favorite part of any film is the soundtrack.  If he hears a song he likes, he gets up to dance along.  It’s pretty disruptive when you are watching the movie but when you see how much fun he is having, you find you don’t really mind after all.

Sorry Prefect, Jamil says we can’t have dance battles in Scarabia anymore.  Ooh!  But come by the Pop Music Club later.  I’m going to play all my favorite songs for Cater and Lilia. Ahaha!

You were worried Vil would dismiss your favorite Marvel films as inferior art, but he is actually rather generous about it.  He believes the film should suit the audience and, as so, there is nothing wrong with films like this that serve to entertain the masses.

Still, he can’t help but be critical of everything while you watch.  He doesn’t criticize the things you’d talk about with your friends but topics you’d hardly even notice while you watched like the set design and lighting.

You notice Vil seems secretly fond of Loki.  You think the idea of the Villain that survives the main movies to get his own spotlight series appeals to him.

No, Potato, I’m just saying the angle isn’t right for this sort of tone.  A shot from below would be more effective.  Plus…wait, are you having more popcorn?  I don’t think so, it’s past the time you can snack before bed.

You had expected Idia to be all in on the Marvel Universe but, at first, he is oddly resistant to it.  He’d rather recommend you one of his own favorite hero movies.  If you disagree on which is better, he is more than willing to fight with you over why his is best!

After a heated argument, he puts on some of the movies to watch so he can come up with targeted points about why his own shows are better.  This does not work out for him as he gets sucked in himself.  Next time you meet up, he wants to go over tiny bits of lore and speculate on future plot lines from hints in the past movies.

You might think his favorite would be Iron Man because they both are innovative engineers, but he is a fan of Ant Man.  Shrinking down to a size where you can hide from everyone; it’s an introvert’s dream!

Prefect, this is serious business!  I’ve drawn up plans.  So long as we sleep only 2 hours a day and avoid taking any breaks for food, studying, and showers, we can finish at least three seasons this weekend.  True fans like us need to be ready to sacrifice for the shows we love!

There are many things Tusnotarou doesn’t understand, and this is one of them.  For starters, he barely knows how to use his smartphone, let alone how to stream movies and shows.  So, before you can even start explaining the plot, you must explain the whole concept of series and interconnecting shows to him.

He doesn’t get it, but he is happy to watch with you.  Your reactions to the show are far more amusing to him than the actual show.  Plus, he feels like he learns so much about the human world from your conversations.  A subway, how intriguing an idea.  Humans are so fascinating.

Even though he watches politely, he isn’t very impressed.  They can fly?  Well so can he.  Magic, lightning, superstrength?  All just part of being a dragon.  Perhaps instead of being interested in these superheroes, you’d rather learn more about him?

 Lilia, do you think I am a superhero?  The Prefect has been explaining this concept to me in great detail lately.  I can’t help but notice the many things I have in common with these so-called heroes.  Why yes, Lilia, now that you mention it, I am wearing a cape.  Another point in my favor. Fu fu fu.    

[5starluvr]

What’s up danger

Paring: Lee Minho × Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Violence, blood, arguing, mentioned injuries

Wc: 2.9k

Spider Kids

The air crackled with nervous energy as Y/N fidgeted on the edge of the worn armchair. Lee Know, ever the charmer, was sprawled across the worn leather couch, his phone clutched in his hand, a playful smile dancing on his lips. Yet, a flicker of unease flickered in his eyes, a telltale sign she knew all too well.

"Min," she started, her voice laced with concern, "You haven't touched your pizza in ten minutes. What's wrong?"

He glanced up, the smile morphing into a sheepish grin. "Nothing, just... superhero stuff."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Superhero stuff, huh?" she repeated, the playful edge to her voice barely masking the worry gnawing at her. Dating a superhero, especially one as reckless as Spider-Man(or should she say, Minho, his real name), was a constant battle between exhilaration and terror.

Minho sighed, the playful facade crumbling. "There's a rumor about a potential attack downtown," he confessed. "The Wrecking Crew. Nasty bunch."

The Wrecking Crew. Four brutal villains with a love for causing city-wide mayhem. Y/N's stomach lurched. "You have to be careful, Minho," she pleaded, using his real name, the one reserved for these serious moments. "Promise me you'll be careful?"

He reached out, his hand engulfing hers in a warm, reassuring grip. "Always," he murmured, his eyes locking with hers. The intensity of his gaze sent a jolt through her, a silent promise that transcended words.

"….I didn’t know you had a twin sister in thought she was you!," the man fumbled on screen. Y/N chuckled, glancing at Minho beside her. He was leaning back, eyes closed, but a smile played on his lips.

Just as Y/N reached for the popcorn bowl, a jarring emergency broadcast cut through the movie soundtrack. "Attention all citizens," a stern voice boomed, "there have been reports of a large-scale villain attack in the Central District. Please stay indoors and avoid all non-essential travel."

Minho's eyes snapped open, a flicker of concern replaced by a steely resolve. Before Y/N could react, he was already pushing himself up.

"I have to go," he said, his voice strained.

Y/N's heart lurched. Minho's secret life, the one that constantly put him in danger, reared its ugly head once again. She knew arguing wouldn't help, so she simply nodded, worry etching lines on her forehead.

Minho disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Curiosity gnawed at Y/N. She knew better than to pry, but her worry wouldn't be quelled. Taking a deep breath, she crept towards the bedroom door.

A muffled thump came from within, followed by the rustle of fabric. Y/N hesitated for a moment before gently pushing the door open a crack.

Minho stood with his back to her, pulling on a sleek, blue and red suit that clung to his athletic frame. The familiar mask, with its large, expressive eyes, laying on the bed beside him. He was about to reach for it when he turned, his eyes widening in surprise.

Their gazes locked for a moment, a silent exchange of emotions passing between them. Y/N knew the weight of responsibility he carried, the fear she could never fully understand. But there was another emotion too, a spark of something more in his eyes as they met hers.

"Y/N," he started, his voice a low murmur, "you shouldn't be here."

Before he could finish, Y/N surprised both of them. Stepping fully into the room, she met his gaze defiantly. A playful smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Maybe not," she said, her voice husky. "But you know what? You look hot in that suit. If you wouldn't have to save the city right now, I'd let you…"

Her voice trailed off suggestively, but the message was clear. A blush crept up Minho's neck, a stark contrast to the red of his mask. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips beneath the fabric.

"Later," he promised, his voice tinged with amusement. "Go lock the door and stay safe."

He quickly donned the mask, the playful glint in his eyes now replaced by a determined glint. With a final, lingering look at Y/N, he swung out the window, disappearing into the storm-ravaged night.

Y/N watched him go, a mixture of fear and pride churning in her stomach. She knew he'd be back, and when he was, they'd have a lot to talk about. But for now, the city needed Spider-Man. And Spider-Man needed to focus on saving the day.

———

The rain hammered down on Spider-Man's mask as he swung through the deserted cityscape. Sirens wailed in the distance, a mournful symphony to the chaos unfolding in the Central District. Below him, flashes of crackling energy split the darkness, illuminating a scene of utter mayhem.

Leach, his body shimmering like a living puddle, cackled as he surged through a police barricade, leaving a trail of soaked debris in his wake. Around him, a motley crew of villains reveled in the destruction: Crackle, crackling with a corona of electricity as he overloaded a city bus, Magma, his body glowing like a furnace, melting a fire hydrant against fleeing civilians.

Minho landed lightly on a fire escape overlooking the scene. This wasn't a random attack; it was a coordinated effort. His spider sense tingled, a warning prickling the hairs on his arms. He needed to take them down one at a time.

"Alright, party's over, crackheads!" he boomed, his voice amplified by the mask. He swung down a blur of red and blue, landing with a crouch right in the middle of the villains.

Leach whirled around, his watery form roiling and churning. He launched a wave of water towards Spider-Man. The web-slinger dodged with practiced ease, the years of experience battling these very same villains giving him an edge. He shot a web at Crackle's crackling hands, momentarily interrupting his electric rampage.

"Enjoying the light show, Sparky?" Lee Know chirped, launching himself at Magma who was about to use his molten fist to smash a nearby newsstand.

Landing a solid kick on Magma's fiery shoulder, Spider-Man disrupted his concentration. The villain roared in frustration, his form momentarily cooling and hardening before erupting back into a molten state.

Minho weaved through the chaos, using his agility and wit to his advantage. He dodged a bolt of lightning from Crackle, deflecting it with a well-timed web shield towards a nearby streetlamp, effectively short-circuiting the villain's powers for a crucial moment.

Leach, however, proved a more formidable opponent. His water form shifted and reformed, making it difficult for Lee Know to land a solid punch. One of Leach's tendrils lashed out, capturing Spider-Man's ankle, yanking him off balance and sending him crashing into a storefront window.

He winced, the sting of broken glass digging into his arm. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, masking the pain. He couldn't afford to lose focus. Not with lives hanging in the balance.

Using the debris of the shattered window to his advantage, he launched himself at Leach. He webbed one of Leach's tendrils, anchoring it to a nearby drainpipe. With a mighty tug, he ripped another tendril free, throwing Leach off balance.

Seizing the opportunity, Spider-Man delivered a series of quick punches to the center of Leach's form, disrupting his concentration. With a final, sputtering gurgle, Leach dispersed into a harmless puddle of water on the pavement.

One down, three to go. But Spider-Man could feel the fatigue creeping in, the adrenaline starting to wear off. He glanced back towards the fire escape he'd landed on earlier, a flicker of blue and red catching his eye. A ghost of a smile crept under his mask.

The fight with Crackle proved to be the most brutal. The villain, a wiry figure crackling with raw electricity, danced just out of Minho’s reach, taunting him with a manic grin. Each time Minho closed the distance, Crackle unleashed a jolt of lightning, forcing him back.

"You can't touch me, bug-boy!" Crackle yelled , sending another bolt sizzling toward Spider-Man. He sidestepped it just in time, the smell of burnt ozone stinging his nostrils.

Thinking fast, Minho scanned his surroundings. He spotted a fallen power line, its wires sparking in the rain. Without hesitating, he used his webs to snag a metal traffic sign nearby. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the sign flying towards the downed power line.

There was a blinding flash of light as the sign made contact, a loud crackle echoing through the night. The streetlamp sputtered and died, plunging them into temporary darkness. Crackle, momentarily disoriented, stumbled back.

Seizing his chance, Spider-Man launched himself at the villain. He tackled Crackle to the ground, effectively pinning him down. With a concentrated effort, he wrapped the villain in a web cocoon, neutralizing his electrical powers.

"Looks like the power's out, Sparks," Minho quipped, his voice strained from the exertion. Crackle, trapped and sputtering in frustration, was no longer a threat.

Only Magma remained. The molten villain, having recovered from Spider-Man's earlier attack, loomed large, his body radiating heat.

"You're finished, Spider-Man!" Magma roared, raising a molten fist for a crushing blow. Minho knew a direct hit would mean serious injury. He needed to outsmart him.

His eyes darted around, searching for an advantage. Then, he spotted a fire hydrant a few meters away. With a desperate gamble, Minho shot a web at the hydrant's valve, yanking it open with all his might.

A torrent of water erupted from the hydrant, catching Magma by surprise. The hissing water cooled his molten form rapidly, turning him brittle and vulnerable. Spider-Man capitalized on his moment of weakness, launching himself at Magma and delivering a powerful kick to his chest.

The impact shattered Magma's hardened exterior, sending shards of cooled rock flying. The villain crumpled to the ground, defeated, his body solidifying into a human form.

The world spun slightly as he leaned against the wall. The rain, which had felt like a million needles earlier, now seemed almost soothing. He let out a shaky breath, the exhaustion hitting him like a tidal wave. Now that the adrenaline had fully receded, the pain bloomed across his body. His left arm throbbed with a dull ache, a souvenir from Leach's watery grip. A sharp sting came from his shoulder, courtesy of Magma's molten fist.

He winced, gingerly flexing his fingers. Maybe he'd pushed himself a little too hard tonight. But the thought of the city in chaos, of innocent people in danger, was enough to quell the self-pity. He had a job to do, and tonight, he'd done it.

With a tired sigh, Minho reached up and peeled off his mask. The cool night air felt like a balm against his heated skin. He glanced back towards the fire escape, a flicker of blue and red catching his eye earlier. Now, it was empty. Putting his mask back on and heaving himself to his feet, Spider-Man shot a web toward a nearby building. He swung through the night, the familiar rhythm a comfort despite the dull ache in his muscles. He needed to get back, to clean up, to assess the damage – both to the city and to himself.

The familiar outline of Y/N's apartment building rose ahead. He landed silently on the fire escape outside her window, the same place he'd left just a few hours ago, what felt like a lifetime. He debated knocking, his body screaming for rest, but something tugged at him to see her.

He tapped on the window lightly, a familiar signal they'd established. Moments later, a light flicked on inside and Y/N's face appeared at the window, framed by concern. Her eyes widened when she saw him, his suit rumpled and singed.

Minho!" she cried, ushering him in. "What happened?"

He winced, a grimace twisting his features. "Hey, Y/N," he rasped, his voice strained. "Just...a little accident."

He moved stiffly, favoring his left arm, which hung awkwardly at his side. Alarm bells clanged in Y/N's head. Accidents didn't explain the fear that flickered in his eyes, a fear she'd only seen once before, the night he'd stumbled in, muttering about "crazy robots" and "near-death experiences."

"Accident, huh?" she said, her voice laced with suspicion. "Looks more like a villain massacre ."

Minho's eyes widened for a fleeting moment before he plastered on a wan smile. "Something like that," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

Y/N wasn't stupid. Minho was Spider-Man, the city's masked protector. A truth he'd revealed in a moment of vulnerability, a truth that bound them closer. But his secret life scared her. Tonight, that fear morphed into anger.

"Minho, how many times do we have to go over this?" she snapped, her voice shaking with a mix of emotions. "You can't continue this for long if you come home like this !"

Minho flinched, his smile faltering. "I had to, Y/N. People were in trouble."

"Fuck,i know but what about us?" she cried, tears stinging her eyes. "What about the plans we make, the promises you break?You’re going to get really hurt some day…"

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken emotions. Shame flickered across Minho's face, battling with his determination to protect her. He reached for her, but she pulled away, her heart a tangled mess of fear and affection.

"Go to the bathroom," she said, her voice tight. "I’ll clean you up."

Minho nodded, defeat etched on his face. He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Y/N alone with the storm raging outside and the one raging within her.

Moments later, the bathroom door creaked open.Y/n emerged, with a clean shirt in her hand for him. She looked at him, his left arm was secured in a makeshift sling fashioned from a towel.

"Y/N, I…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Look," she said, her voice softer now, but no less firm. "I get it. You have a responsibility. But you also have a responsibility to me, Minho. To be honest, to take care of yourself."She said as she began unpacking the first aid kit.

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that made her heartache. "I know," he said, his voice low. "I messed up. I was so focused on protecting everyone else, I forgot about you."

He reached out, his hand hovering hesitantly over hers. Hesitantly, she met his touch. His fingers were warm against her skin, a silent apology.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes searching hers. "I promise, I'll be more careful. From now on, no more secrets."

Y/N stared into his eyes, momentarily stopping her movement. The anger had subsided, replaced by a fierce protectiveness that mirrored his own.

"Promise me," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Promise me you'll come home to me, no matter what."

Minho pulled her into a semi-tight embrace, the warmth of his body a soothing balm against her worry. "Always," he murmured against her hair.

"Minho?" she whispered, her voice laced with worry. "Does it hurt a lot?."

His heart ached at the tremor in her voice. He offered a tired smile, hoping it wouldn't come across as a grimace with the throbbing in his arm.

"Just a few bumps and bruises," he said, his voice slightly raspy. "But I'm okay. I Promise, my love."

Taglist:open | If your user is red i can’t tag you

Taglist: @juskz @blackhairandbangs @sxnset-angel @emossssss @hanjsquokka @feelikecinderella @starlostastronaut @kpopsstuffs @lixxpix @jinnie-ret @bangchans-angel @puppyminnnie @michelle4eve @skzswife @saiko-skz @quailbagutte @briqnne

[sksksksksgreat]

Jayce and Viktor were characters completely forgotten by riot and i was more than fine with that, people didn't really play with them, and when you did they didn't know how to play against them, but their gameplay was so fun especially jayce's, and so were their stories, easily one of my favorite backstorys in the game both of them, who's telling the truth? None of them, both, they cherry picked what they individually thought made them look better, did that really happened the way they described it? No! It's all blown up out of proportion and you're stupid in fully believing in one of either versions.

And then they decided to make a cartoon with the most famous character in the game and they put them there and it felt like i got my kids ripped out of my arms and crucified in front of me, i've never seen a character so mischaracterized by a fandom like jayce was, imagine having your little small guy exposed to thousands of people and they are all throwing tomatos at him, i shouldn't really take offense because them both were not really like their league version but hey it's just the beginning maybe they'll change and yeah they wont. They're getting revamped and changing the story they are completely killing the characters i was once so fond of.

There were so many people hating on jayce for being a normal guy and trying, because he was more privileged than viktor, he wasn't even that privileged he still couldn't pay for his college he got a scholarship because he is a genius and he was so dedicated to doing the best he could but i mean everything feels privileged when you compare it to zaun whose people were breastfed toxic waste from giant spiders as babys or something.

He didn't really have to try to make the lives of the people from there better but he did because he careeeed because hes a good guy and was the only one trying to get something done the first time ever and they hated him for it and they accused him of the craziest things like for leaving a grown ass man alone on his own, for having a hot girlfriend for being manipulated because (he was an adult and should know better as if there's an age limit for getting manipulated) , newgens cracking jokes that he is stupid and has to ask viktor about science stuff when he is a literal scientist like 😭😭

People projected so much onto viktor they saw every thing jayce did and didn't do for him as if it was with them which was insaaaaaaane.

All of that for such a mid show, cringe dialogue, cringe soundtrack, boring characters (and yeah that includes both of them) (except for vi ig but thats because her lesbian swag is too strong) a story that didn't seem to go ANYWHERE, weird ass pacing and a laughable attempt at political commentary (coming from no other than league of legends the game known for it's racist players, s.a lawsuits and monetary exploitation) ...they really killed my babygirl for THAT? unbelievable, but thats on me for playing league of legends in the first place and getting attatched to the characters, i should've known better, boooooooooooooooooooooo.

They should've made it about demacia/noxus and the magical racism instead.

[nickeverdeen]

Request (headcanons): Hobie Brown with a Reader who's basically his adopted little sister? Reader is quiet, imaginative and surprisingly chaotic/non-conformative but also clumsy at times. She was the Spiderwoman of her AU, but her parents kicked her out of home due to fear, and Reader had nowhere to stay, so she ended up joining the Spider Society. Reader likes movies, video games and music.

Thank you in advance, love your writing

Hobie Brown x younger adopted sister!reader

Hobie immediately took you under his wing when you joined the Spider Society

He knew what it was like to be treated as an outcast for doing the right thing, and seeing how young and lost you were, he felt a natural instinct to look out for you

From that point on, he was your self-appointed big brother

Your non-conformist attitude and tendency toward chaos endeared you to him right away

You may be quiet, but your rebellious spirit speaks volumes

Whether it’s disrupting a boring meeting at HQ or graffitiing messages on walls during missions, Hobie’s always impressed by your creative take on sticking it to the man

He’s fiercely protective of you, especially after finding out about your parents kicking you out

If he ever hears anyone badmouthing you or making snide comments about your clumsy nature, he’ll step in with a grin and a sharp retort, making sure they don’t mess with you again

Hobie loves introducing you to new music and frequently takes you to underground shows in his world

He’ll make you a mixtape with all his favorite tracks, scrawling cheeky notes on the tape cover

You return the favor by suggesting some of your favorite video game soundtracks or movie scores

Hobie absolutely loves your imaginative side

He’ll sit and listen while you tell him about some movie idea you’ve been dreaming up, or your latest thoughts on a video game plot

He’s always enthusiastic about your ideas and will even help you workshop them if you want

You may be a bit clumsy, but Hobie finds it endearing

He likes to joke that the two of you are a “walking disaster” in the best way

Since you were a Spiderwoman in your original universe, Hobie recognizes your skills but also helps you refine them

He’s a great mentor, showing you tricks and techniques to incorporate your own style into your fighting

He never makes you feel inadequate for stumbling or making mistakes—just brushes it off with a “Let’s try that again.”

Whenever the Spider Society gets too stuffy, he’ll take you on “field trips” to various dimensions

Whether it’s some punk concert in a graffiti-covered warehouse or a hidden café with amazing coffee, he knows all the best spots across the multiverse

Hobie might not be as big on movies as you, but he enjoys your enthusiasm for them

He’ll sit through marathons of your favorite films, occasionally cracking jokes or pointing out flaws in the plot

If you’re feeling down, he’ll grab your favorite snacks and put on whatever film you’ve been raving about lately

Despite his laid-back attitude, Hobie’s always willing to give you heartfelt advice

When it comes to navigating tough situations—whether it’s dealing with your past or figuring out how to handle a problem in the Spider Society—he’s got your back

You and Hobie like to make things in your downtime, from tinkering with gadgets to making DIY merch for his band

The two of you enjoy working with your hands, and it gives you another way to express your chaotic creativity

He’s always calling you cheeky nicknames like “short stuff,” “trouble,” or “little spider.”

There’s a lot of teasing involved, but you know it’s his way of showing he cares

Plus, it’s kind of comforting to have someone who treats you like a real sibling

When you’re missing your world or feeling lonely, Hobie’s the one who helps you process those emotions

He never dismisses your pain and listens without judgment

Sometimes, he’ll share stories from his own life to make you feel less alone, reminding you that “family doesn’t always mean blood.”

You and Hobie have become quite the team when it comes to missions

He loves how unpredictable your fighting style is, even if it’s partly due to your clumsy nature

After a rough mission or a bad day, you can always count on Hobie to be there for you

He’ll let you crash at his place, and you’ll both end up on the sofa, talking about everything and nothing until you eventually fall asleep

He’s not the “hug and comfort” type, but he’ll still put an arm around your shoulder and ruffle your hair to remind you that you’re not alone

—————

Tag List: @callsignwidow

[modgirlyreposts-revamped]

Caine: Hey, Pomni? Pomni, playing a video game with the squad: What? Caine: Can I share something with you from earlier today? Pomni: Wh- what is it, Caine? Caine: Well, I sent you a text early in the morning. Pomni: Mhm. Caine: Because I have to go out of town for a weekend this month. And, so I was like- I won't give specific dates, but I was like, do you have any preference whether I go this weekend or the next weekend? Pomni: Yeah? Caine: Your response. Pomni: *trying not to crack up* Caine: At 9:30 in the morning. Caine: "motherfucking Jesse Eisenberg jesus Christ motherfucking Facebook movie jesus can you believe this shit" Pomni: *laughing* Caine: No- no- no punctuation. Random capitalization. Pomni: You just made me dieeee… Caine: So I respond, "I have no idea what we're talking about right now." Caine: 45 minutes pass. I get a text from you. Caine: "goddamn created Facebook and fucking lawyers and shit right fucking winklevoss twins goddamn rowing the boat fuck yo shit i cant even fucking believe this shit have you seen this shit fuck I just watched this shit fuck Jesse eisenberg man" Pomni: *wheezing with laughter* Caine: I respond "Pomni, you're scaring me." An hour passes- Caine: You respond, "motherfucking spiderman Spiderman you put in the time fuck put in the time motherfucking built shit with his bare hands fucking best friend shit jesse eisenberg" Caine: "im very tired" Pomni: *struggling to breathe* Caine: And- and I'm just like, "No- no worries, Pomni, I'll- I'll do most of the talking at the hangout today-" Caine: IMMEDIATE, like, response, like I'm talking 5 seconds later, Caine: "no man ill just talk all day shit man you have to be so interested in the shit I have to say about the Facebook movie fuck dude I just watched it a year and a half ago fuck Jesse Eisenberg man he fucked over Spider-man crazy Winklevoss twins rowing Trent Resin or did the soundtrack fuck this guy who invented Facebook I don't like dying I can't think of who the fuck invented Facebook All I can think is who played the guy who invented Facebook who the fuck invented Facebook" Caine: And then, in all capital letters, two hours later, Pomni: *falling over with laughter* Caine: "MARK ZUCKERBERG."

[soda-n-dinos-andmore]

✨I have brain rot✨

so here! Have more incorrect quotes!!! (This time with more blorbos included)

California : sighs I have no friends… Alaska: Alaska: coughs Bitch, what am I? A roach?!

Gov: Hey, Florida? Florida, playing a video game with the squad: What? Gov: Can I share something with you from earlier today? Florida: Wh- what is it, Gov? Gov: Well, I sent you a text early in the morning. Florida: Mhm. Gov: Because I have to go out of town for a weekend this month. And, so I was like- I won't give specific dates, but I was like, do you have any preference whether I go this weekend or the next weekend? Florida: Yeah? Gov: Your response. Florida: trying not to crack up Gov: At 9:30 in the morning. Gov: "motherfucking Jesse Eisenberg jesus Christ motherfucking Facebook movie jesus can you believe this shit" Florida: laughing Gov: No- no- no punctuation. Random capitalization. Florida: You just made me dieeee… Gov: So I respond, "I have no idea what we're talking about right now." Gov: 45 minutes pass. I get a text from you. Gov: "goddamn created Facebook and fucking lawyers and shit right fucking winklevoss twins goddamn rowing the boat fuck yo shit i cant even fucking believe this shit have you seen this shit fuck I just watched this shit fuck Jesse eisenberg man" Florida: wheezing with laughter Gov: I respond "Florida, you're scaring me." An hour passes- Gov: You respond, "motherfucking spiderman Spiderman you put in the time fuck put in the time motherfucking built shit with his bare hands fucking best friend shit jesse eisenberg" Gov: "im very tired" Florida: struggling to breathe Gov: And- and I'm just like, "No- no worries, Florida, I'll- I'll do most of the talking at the hangout today-" Gov: IMMEDIATE, like, response, like I'm talking 5 seconds later, Gov: "no man ill just talk all day shit man you have to be so interested in the shit I have to say about the Facebook movie fuck dude I just watched it a year and a half ago fuck Jesse Eisenberg man he fucked over Spider-man crazy Winklevoss twins rowing Trent Resin or did the soundtrack fuck this guy who invented Facebook I don't like dying I can't think of who the fuck invented Facebook All I can think is who played the guy who invented Facebook who the fuck invented Facebook" Gov: And then, in all capital letters, two hours later, Florida: falling over with laughter Gov: "MARK ZUCKERBERG."

Washington: Please, California , after everything we’ve been through together. You can’t do this. Washington: I’m sorry California . Washington: I’m begging you. Don’t do it. California : It has to be done. Washington: California : Washington: California : Places +4 Uno.

Massachusetts : Everything’s fine, Maine. New York: Massachusetts , I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- deep inhale ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

Maine: H-how do you ask someone out? Louisiana : Well, first- Florida: Don't ask them, they asked me out in a McDonalds parking lot. Maine: …And you said yes?

Gov: Are you an ‘arr’ pirate or a ‘yo ho ho’ pirate? Nevada: I’m a ‘I’m not paying $600 for photoshop’ pirate.

[the0retically]

The Suckening #13: Breaking Dawn:

What a great finale, that was incredible :)

- “Would you like to know what’s in the center? It’s a baseball diamond” CHARLIE WHAT

- “I land and say ‘I love baseball’” ok Arthur

- Manbat???

- “I say ‘slay’” ok Arthur

- ARTHUR HAS A SNIPER RIFLE NOW??

- I’m crying this is so funny to me

- “I didn’t get to bat” ARTHUR PLEASE

- PLEASE MANBAT BROKE THE MASQUERADE BY ORDERING UBER EATS??

- Manbat going between animal and human is so funny

- HES TWERKING HES THROWING IT BACK OH MY GOD

- CHETS BACK

- I really hope he stays alive

- I love how defeated Charlie sounds when Condi does something smart

- Condi wanting to press a button from the ceiling but Charlie being like “I don’t understand how you could possibly press a button”

- PLEASE?? CONDI’S DOING THE BUTTON PRESSING THING AGAIN LIKE IN PD

- FUCK EDWARD KNOWS ITS EMIZEL

- oh now we’re back with Ben and Shilo :(

- A SHARK WITH SPIDER LEGS AND MACHINE GUNS?????

- HI WEYLINS!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU BOTH!!!!

- but oh god?? Why is this here with Ben and Shilo??

- “Ben it is my fault you’re in here” “no I think I just wandered…it’s ok you said you’re going to walk me home” this is so so sad

- “This is horrible” “yeah it doesn’t end well” “I know…but maybe?” God bizly you sound so hopeful that it could but I really don’t think it will

- Arthur’s theme, it’s so good, I cannot wait for the soundtrack to come out I love it

- Oh? Arthur what are you up to?

- …………..Emizel? Huh??

- THEO!!!!!! ITS THEO HES HERE YES YES YES YES YES YES

- HE GOT IN!!!!!!! HES IN THE CONTROL ROOM LETS GOOOOOOO I LOVE HIM

- ……ok it’s so weird them chanting theo like hi that’s me??

- BUT LETS GOOOOOOO I LOVE THIS ITS WORKING!!!!! THE PLAN IS KINDA WORKING

- awww they’re rolling together I love that—Oop they rolled bad

- Another series of roll offs again??

- WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT NO SAME BIZLY AND GRIZZLY? I—WHAT?

- THEO RESISTED DOMINANT???? OH GOD EMIZEL HAS TO DO THIS AND THEO DOESNT

- NO NO NO NO NO EMIZEL NO NO NO

- I’m literally going to start crying he does not have to kill Theo

- “I need you to attack Theo like he killed your best friend” oh god

- “I should mighty blowed, I would’ve totally blowed him mightily” OK??? WHAT????

- HE JUST TAKES THE DAMAGE WHAT????

- “You look really feral right now” PLEASE?

- “He told me to kill you and I just had to” “well don’t do that man” PLEASE?????

- He just ran into the wall and couldn’t do anything?? Theo nooooo

- “Think about how sexy it is to dash across the room and smoulder” ……ok bebo

- “He has dude with a dream” OH FUCK HE JUST CHOPPED THEO’S ARM OFF????? OH MY GOD???

- “Don’t give me sad baby girl eyes” “I don’t like what’s happening” “you’re the one DOING THIS??” Charlie Charlie please it’s Theo come on it’s Theo

- WHAT?? THEO GRABS HIS OWN HAND TO BLOCK IT????

- “I didn’t realize how attached I was to Theo until now, this shit sucks” YEAH IT DOES CHARLIE DONT KILL THEO

- Yeah Edwards awful I hate him

- This is so—:((((

- Emizel botched, please theo get out of there

- “Hey Zoolander!” YES THEO PERFECT

- NOOOOOOOOOO EDWARD DODGED

- THEO IS CRACKED I LOVE THIS

- CHARLIES YELL FOR THEO OH MY GOD

- THIS IS CRAZY THEO IS AO SO COOL

- THE DICE ARE TELLING THEIR STORY THIS IS CRAZY

- NO NO NO NO NO DONT MAKE EMIZEL FORGET ABOUT THEO BUT DONT PUT THEM IN THE GAMES NOOOOOOO

- WHAT?? EMIZEL WHAT???

- HE STANDS BACK UP WHAT THE FUCK??????? THEO LETS GOOOOOOOOOO YES!!!!!!!

- How is Theo still alive???? What the fuck??

- “I have the power of a god and he’s just a boy” YEAH BUT HES DOING GREAT!!!!

- He just has to leave Theo?????? Oh god this is not good

- “I really don’t want to look like a bat” PLEASE OH MY GOD

- Awww void is here :) I love her

- Cradle Manbat ok Arthur

- “And a new hope is another” “nope that’s Star Wars” PLEASE

- “You suck somebody’s soul out and you say POGGERS??” Oh my god perfect

- Charlie is having such a hard time with this map oh my god broooooo??

- “Definitely talking to Viv about that one” I love their friendship so much

- :((( shilo and Ben

- “Penguins are not birds” OH GOD????? YES THEY ARE??? WHAT????? WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH THIS CONVERSATION GRIZZLY WHAT?

- Shilo finds the receptionist now??? Oh god this is horrible

- Oh god, grangle is now here

- “What do you mean bait shilo” GOD CHARLIE THIS IS SO SO SAD I HATE THIS

- This is heartbreaking, Charlie please

- “Oh god what was her name, I don’t remember” “you don’t even remember” CHARLIE PLEASE BIZLY IS TRYING

- like bizly truly is having the worst time out of all of them

- GABRIEL??????? WHAT???? IS THAT HIM?????? HES BACK????? IM SO!!!! OH MY GOD??????

- HES HERE!!!!!!! HI GABE!!!!!!

- Oh god……..it’s been announced to everyone

- He just immediately kills him oh my god

- WHAT GABE JUST BIT HIM BACK??

- A SUCK OFF??? HUH??

- CHET NOOOOOO CHET NOOOOOOOOOOO

- TAYLOR YES!!!!!

- “Another nameless, I’m slipping the more I look at you, tell me: why should I stop?” Arthur :(((((( please :((((

- BOOGIE BOMBED????

- “Ok Ben we’re going to go this way” “just looks at you” “you can—�� :((((((((((((((( shilo :(((((( nooooo this is so sad

- It’s between Ben or the body :( shilo is just trying his hardest

- Charlie this is devastating why are you doing this

- Shilo is just trying so hard to save him

- Shilo got no successes, please Charlie just let Ben speak

- Charlie what the fuck, “he sees a bird :)” nooooooooooooooo nooooooooooooo

- I hate hearing how sad Bizly and Charlie are because this is horrible

- “And Ben goes home” CHARLIE PLEASE

- bizly…..bebo…..Zach, it’s full name time, that last memory is so sad oh my god

- This is—god

- Ok but Arthur and Shilo have reunited at least

- “I shouldn’t have PLAYED THEIR GAMES” :((( shilo

- “Can you just tell me what to do?” Shilo please :(

- They’re all reunited but god they’re all so defeated

- TAYLORS HERE

- THE WEYLINS!!!!! THEYRE BACK!!!! HI HI

- I love that they are just constantly cutting the cameras when Taylor’s there and doing something

- God Grizz just has banger monologue after banger monologue

- “What about fighting the beast and about holding on?” “Yes.” “Can-can you not just hold on?” Oh :((((( that’s absolutely devastating “I’ve been holding on for a long time and there is too much I have still get to find.” Arthur :(((

- Bizly is a fantastic actor holy shit, man’s popping off I adore this

- “The rules were clear from the beginning, we just never thought to look at them” damn emizel, yeah you’re so right

- “I’m beginning to understand your mother” :(

- Arthur please don’t let this be goodbye

- Found a cave but “finish the show” FUCK ME

- Now they have to fight each other, god damn it

- Arthur please go for Edward

- YAY HE GOES

- “You kinda want to kill shilo” oh my god?????? No no no???

- Taylor’s back!!!!! AND HES DYING TO FIND EDWARD WOOOO

- this is batshit oh my god

- I love how all of them are like “yeah I don’t care if Taylor is the one who kills him go for it”

- EMIZELS GOING FOR EDWARD LETS GOOOOOOO YAY!!!!!!!!

- Arthur and Edward being friends in the past is something that is so odd to me

- Oh?? Arthur?? What??? Arthur’s pulling a Harlem Shade

- Edward just runs away???

- Oh god and Shilo is back there too

- “You know what they say in my home country? Fuck it we ball” YEAH SHILO!!!!

- oh and he just botched oof

- Shilo??

- WHAT?

- EDWARDS BEAUTY IS RIPPED FROM HIM??? HOLY SHIT FUCKING HELL SHILO LETS GO????

- “They’re watching Edward, they’re disgusted by you” oh my god

- “And you can replace it after this session” ……..is this not the finale?

- “You ruined your mothers life too” WHAT THE HELL EDWARD??

- What do you mean you’re not leaving emizel??

- No scar? Huh?? Nooooo it wasn’t really him

- Oh :( he’s going to hug Arthur :((

- Only emizel could say “I’m gonna die here…see you guys tomorrow”

- They all hug :(

- Oh he’s thinking of Theo as he waits for the sun :(

- :(( Arthur thinking about how he failed the twins :( Arthur you deserve peace!!

- Shilo what goes on in your mind “vampires fucking suck” yeah fair enough

- Pile of ashes and a note

- He’s at 4 lives now

- “There’s no going back, but maybe there’s going forward” oh I love that quote

- AWWWWW LAZARUS!! “now those are my boys” HE!!!!

- FIRST SEASON??? HOLY SHIT!!!!! THE BOYS ARE STAYING!!!! YAYYAYAYAYAYYYAYAY

[with-love-from-hell]

Ashes

Written for Gn!mc

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: Lucifer x Mc

Cw: depression implication, self-loathing

A/n: I wrote this at 4am when I couldn't sleep and was in my feelings.

"Darling, what seems to be troubling you?" Lucifer sighs, easing himself down on the bed by your feet. He caresses your calf, running his thumb along the muscle. The movement was intentional enough that you could feel it through the weight of your duvet, but gentle enough that it felt like a mere tickle.

"I'm fine." The lie slipped through your teeth easily. Anyone else would have left you too your swarm of negative thoughts and emotions, passing off the dismissive lie as you just being fatigued or in need of some alone time...but Lucifer knew you better than anyone else. What's more, he's someone you found difficult to lie to.

Lucifer sighed, squeezing your calf through the blanket. "Come now, Mc. You needn't hide things from me."

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill past your eyelids. What could you even say? You couldn't exactly pinpoint the thing that had put you in a dour mood. The whole day seemed to weigh on you like an anvil, each mild inconvenience or small stress seeming to cause the weight to grow heavier and heavier until you could no longer carry it. Lucifer was a logical man- a man of reason. If you were to tell him that you didn't know what had you so down, you could just imagine the annoyed response he'd give. Sure, he loved you. You knew that. But he only had so much time, energy, and patience to give. If you didn't have anything to offer as a reason for your suffering, then you weren't worthy of the effort it took to console you.

"...Mc." Lucifer repeated your name, but the normal stern tone his voice would take when his brothers didn't respond to their name being called wasn't there. It was soft, laced only with concern and a desire to sooth.

"I...I dont know..." You glance to him uneasily as the tears slipped past your eyes. You close them, not wanting to look him in the eyes as you began to cry, feeling shameful for not having the words to explain your emotions, and for burdening the busy demon with your problems.

In an instant, Lucifer gathered you in his arms. He situated you in his lap so that he could cradle you close to his chest, letting your tears freely stain his freshly pressed suit. His thumb circled the center of your back, tracing the bumpy parts of your spine that stoof out slightly from the rest of your skin.

Your breaths caught in your throat as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing, but it only made the tears fall harder. You cursed yourself, not liking that you looked so pitiful in front of the Avatar of Pride. He surely must think you're a fool.

Squeezing your eyes shut tighter, you clung to him, scolding yourself for being such a mess. Your thoughts were mean- some down right abusive- as you chastised your inability to save face, and questioning your worth to the man who always sacrificed so much for you- and for what? So you can have a breakdown in his arms; blubbering incoherently because you can't place why you're just so fucking sad.

"I'm...I'm sorry..." your voice cracks as you mutter out the words into his chest. "I'm sorry..."

"It's alright, there's no reason to apologize." He cooed, barely resting his chin atop your head. "We needn't discuss what's causing your heartache right this instant. Take all the time you need."

He contunued rubbing circles into your back, rocking you ever-so gently side-to-side. Its during times like this that he wonders how you would feel if you could read his thoughts. Clearly, your lowly opion of yourself was projected onto him, while he saw you as his entire world. If you were hurting, then he was too. If he could, he would bring all three realms to their knees in order to protect you, and he wanted so desperately for you to believe that. He knew that after going so much of your life feeling nothing but animosity toward yourself would result in this knowledge taking a significant amount of time to seep in...but the desperation he felt in needing you to see what he saw when he looked at you was immense. Just once, he wished he could show you how much you meant to him- and to his family, as well. And he internally cursed the individual or individuals who made you believe you were worthless.

He took a shallow breath, humming contently as he gripped you tighter. For now, he needed to push that aside. What mattered now was that you needed him, no matter the reason. And when you needed him, he was there.

Always.

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

River

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jake

Synopsis: Jake hasn’t healed even months after his ex-girlfriend Y/N said ‘I do’ to another man. After one night of desperately trying to hold onto Y/N, will he get back the woman he loves, or was it all nothing but a mistake?

For a bit of context while I try and write what came before: Y/N is a super successful singer-songwriter although it’s not super relevant in this chapter. She has been close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet, for several years. She had a tumultuous yet terribly passionate relationship with Jake that ended not very well (you’ll see), although they eventually figured out how to remain on good terms for everybody’s sake.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Previous Track: Prayer Factory

Chapter soundtrack : River – Joni Mitchell

Oh, I wish I had a river,

I could skate away on.

I wish I had a river so long,

I would teach my feet to fly.

Christmas music was playing softly in the warmth of the Styles household. The young couple had decided to host a Holiday party together for their close friends in their newly purchased London home. Kids were running around everywhere, stuffing their face with appetizers, while grown-ups were enjoying more than a few glasses of wine around the crackling fireplace, or in the sitting room.

Alright let’s get into this,

--

Harry, however, was busy looking around for his wife with a frown on his face. He had barely seen her since the arrival of the first few guests.

“Hey, do you know where my beautiful wife might be?” he asked his sister.

Indeed, the hostess was still in the master bathroom upstairs. Far from the picture of holiday spirit, she was sitting on the tiled floor, with her arms wrapped around her knees, surrounded by a pile of tissues and mascara running wildly down her cheeks.

“I’m not sure, although she did tell me she was going to the loo earlier.”

--

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” she whispered, for what felt like the hundredth time, as she heard footsteps heading in her direction. She took some more toilet paper to blow her nose, jumping slightly as she heard a soft knock on the door.

“Y/N? Come out, love, everyone’s here,” she heard her husband say.

She got up, flinching as she looked at her reflection. God, she really looked like shit, “Um, you should go back down, I'll be right behind you, I’m just touching up my makeup”, she said, hoping Harry wouldn’t be able to notice the shakiness of her voice.

“Are you okay?” he asked, clearly worried.

“Of course, I am” she answered. She was relieved to hear him walk back downstairs.

“Ah, there she is!” everyone cheered upon seeing her walk down the split staircase, her silky dress flowing beautifully behind her and her makeup opaque enough to hide any previous meltdown.

Of course, I am, she thought. Was she really, though? Definitely not. She quickly put all her mess into the tiny bin, before starting to work on her hair and face. Just get through tonight, she thought, just tonight.

--

“Sorry I kept you waiting. You know I love making an entrance,” she giggled, trying to hide her nervousness behind a sparkly smile. No one seemed to notice anything wrong as she went around the room, greeting everyone one by one, cracking a quick joke here and there.

Most of the guests were Harry’s friends and colleagues, but Y/N didn’t mind that much, she understood London wasn’t exactly an ideal location for most of her friends. Plus, she had gotten rather close to her husband’s inner circle. It didn’t quite feel like family just yet, but it would come, or at least that’s what she hoped.

“You look a bit pale sweetheart,” Harry’s agent told her laughing, “here, have a drink it’ll loosen you right up”.

Y/N hesitantly took the champagne flute he was holding out to her, mumbling a quick ‘thank you’ and excusing herself before heading to the empty reading room. She let out a sigh of relief as she heard the door close behind her, shutting any noise out.

She loved that room; it was always so quiet and cozy. The walls were covered in her favorite books, and the grand piano was almost buried under a mountain of sheet music and song drafts, both hers and Harry’s. The back wall, however, was very neatly organized. It was where they had decided to place their award shelves.

Without even realizing, she approached one award in particular. It was her second Grammy, which she’d gotten a few years prior. Next to it was a picture taken at the ceremony’s after party. She grabbed it gently, a sad smile spreading her face. It was of her with Josh, Danny and Jake. Sam had taken it while in his disposable camera phase.

She brushed her thumb across Jake’s face, her throat drying up, before shifting her attention back on the glass in her hand. She contemplated the idea of downing it in one swift movement. God knew she needed a drink. But she wasn’t sure it would be wise.

Screw it.

She weakly brought the glass up to her lips but was interrupted as she heard the door open and footsteps approaching from behind her.

“You look beautiful,” Harry whispered in her ear. He laid a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder and wrapped one arm around her waist, his hand landing on her stomach. She stiffened at the sensation. “Are you okay?” he asked, genuine worry on his delicate features.

“Yeah, I’m good, don’t worry,” she answered, smiling, delicately setting the frame back onto the shelf.

But her husband wasn’t fooled, he could feel that something was going on. Truth was, something had been going on for a while. Y/N had been distant, and quiet, very different from the sunny and bubbly girl he’d married less than a year prior. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her to open up to him. He was worried his job had started taking a toll on their marriage, since YN’s strange behavior had started when he’d come back from a press tour to promote his new album. Then again, Harry knew she had herself been working on some projects and even spent a couple days with her friends in Barcelona while he was away, so she’d always kept busy.

“Are you sure?” he insisted.

“Just tired,” she hummed, absent-mindedly, “who would’ve thought hosting Christmas would be so stressful?”

But Harry wasn’t satisfied with his wife’s answer “Love, you look-”

She gently slid out of his arms and walked towards the arched window; it was pouring outside. “I told you I’m fin-”, but they were both cut off by a strong voice coming from the foyer.

“Alright everyone, picture time!”

The reading room was suddenly silent for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to argue, neither of them knowing what to do or say. Y/N was the first to move, setting her glass down on the windowsill and walking past him and towards the exit.

“Y/N-” he sighed, his eyes never leaving her figure.

“You heard them,” she answered, smiling sadly back at him, “it’s picture time.” She quickly vanished behind the mahogany doors.

Harry was left alone in the study, with nothing to listen to but his own thoughts. He couldn’t understand what had been going on. Out of curiosity, he glanced at what Y/N was holding when he’d walked in. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he took in the picture frame.

Of course, he thought. She’d told him all about how she’d been spending the Holiday season in Michigan for the past few years. It must’ve felt weird celebrating Christmas without her boys for the first time in so long. Harry felt a lump settle in his throat. He’d taken her away from her family. Of course, he’d hoped he would’ve had become her family by then, but he knew Y/N and the Greta boys had a special bond that was hard for outsiders to understand. They were the family she’d chosen. And she was the only person that they had ever truly let in.

Harry walked quickly to the foyer, finding everyone standing around the staircase, facing the photographer. He walked to the middle of the crowd and next to Y/N, who still looked as absent as ever. But this time he chose to lay a soft kiss on her temple. “It’s okay, I’m sorry, I love you darlin’,” he said softly against her hair.

Without thinking, Harry took his phone out of his pocket and dialed his assistant’s number, “Hey, yeah, I know, I’m sorry, I just need you to do something very quickly for me.”

--

Except it most definitely was not okay, he did not have to be sorry, and should not have loved her. Y/N felt tears filling her eyes as the guilt once again ate at her. She discreetly wiped a stray tear. There wasn’t anything she could do now, was there?

“Everybody, say cheese!”

She turned around to face the photographer, Harry’s hand wrapping around her waist, a wide smile spreading across both of their faces.

To say Y/N was exhausted would’ve been an understatement. The party had ended being a lot of fun for everybody, perhaps a tad too much fun, as the last guest had left in a cab long after 3AM.

“Cheeeeese!” everybody cheered.

--

She yawned as she took off her jewelry and heels, before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Y/N heard her husband’s soft snores coming from the bedroom and couldn’t help but smile a little as she remembered his sister had spent the night warning him against the spiked eggnog. He clearly had taken her advice lightly and had ended up getting completely hammered.

She started taking her makeup off, lazily throwing her used wipes in the bin. She froze for a second. The girl wasn’t tired enough to have forgotten the reason why she’d been sobbing on the floor just 6 hours earlier.

She slowly shut the bathroom door, flinching when the lock clicked loudly. She got down on her knees and started rummaging through the trash, only to let out a painful sigh when she noticed her worst nightmare hadn’t disappeared. Yep. The tests were still in there. All three of them, mocking her with their baby blue lines.

Hope you liked it! Once again, don't hesitate to send me whatever or leave comments I’m always happy to get feedback xxx

Positive.

--

--

Masterlist

[bagelbeee]

Is it too soon to declare my love for Lovely Runner?

Seriously.

Watching it just makes me happy, and with no following episodes, I'm stuck dealing with these feelings. So what other way than to put on my goggles and look closer right?

*cracks knuckles*

Alright, here's my love letter to Lovely Runner.

The band

I'm a sucker for amazing OSTs. I've been listening to their soundtrack nonstop because it just so good and it pairs with the youth and hopeful energy this drama gives off. They really convinced us that ECLIPSE is a well-known band. Man, I wish they'd release the full performances (I hope they did film it)!

And don't get me started with the vocals!

SEON-JAE'S ACTOR (Byeon Woo-seok) RECORDED THOSE SONGS HIMSELF. From his GQ Korea interview, it appeared that he's been diligently practicing and preparing for it! His preparation paid well, his singing was awesome. THE BAND WAS AWESOME.

I understand why Im Sol supported them.

Speaking of our heroine--Kim Hye-yoon portrayed her so well 🥹

From the first episode, I knew she'd be on fire! It's so fun to see her act in various ways (an old woman, a cringy teenager, a fan, a friend, a daughter/grand-daughter) It all just clicks when she's set her mind on it.

The characters they introduced so far were also lovely! They have substance and I can't wait to see how they grow as time passes. There's so much to say about everyone's dynamics, but I'll keep it to myself for now.

I know the elements of this drama are things I've seen before (time-slip, do-overs, idol-fan, mystery, plot-twist-A-liked-B-first-before-B-even-knew-A), but something about the way they played these card stuck with me.

Seon-jae and Sol's history was a surprise to me because I thought the drama was about present-Sol helping present-Seon-jae gain back his passion for music, acting, and life. I thought this was the FIRST time they've met. BUT I WAS WRONG. I'm so happy I was.

Seeing Seon-jae yearn for her without an ounce of selfishness shattered me. aND knowing Sol admired him without an ounce of entitlement turned me into a puddle.

Both of them cherished each other beyond self-interest.

Sol became a fan because he had encouraged her to live. She didn't fall for a pretty face nor a gentle voice. Seon-jae's words reached her not because he tried to maintain a good image, but because he intended for her to live on.

Speaking of, Seon-jae's crush bloomed when she shielded him with an umbrella and gifted him candies for doing his "job" (Remember this is Sol mistaking him for a deliveryman--she's too sweet!). He didn't like her for being a fan; he liked Sol for her kindness and character even before the timeslip.

And once Sol finally got the opportunity to get close to him, approaching Seon-jae was built on the idea of saving him, not to get together with him.

Aside from being a breath of fresh-air, think it's also hilarious because Seon-jae's mind is swimming with I-like-you-and-I've-been-trying-to-confess-to-you thoughts, and he's just trying win points and not to royally mess things up with Sol. He's just a sweet guy with a big crush on an equally sweet girl.

Man, there's so much development on the way! I haven't covered everything, but for now, I think their story will grow into a really awesome tale about love being self-transcending and enabling.