#but still i feel selfish and disgusting for not having gone

[cosmojjong]

my grandpa ended up passing away only 11 days after i saw him and what hurts most right now is trying to deal with such a sudden loss and the fact that i can't go to his funeral. i don't know what to do with myself

[buckyalpine]

I'm here for some angst and fluff rn. Bucky being sad no one trusts him after his metal arm is taken off during a fight.

-

Bucky stared at the dark grey metal that fell to the floor with a clank, his vibranium arm no longer attached to his body with just a few pushes to his joint. The fight ended, leaving the soldier lost as he picked his arm off the floor, fingers trembling around the cold material. It felt dead in his hand, the emotional weight of it far heavier than anything else he'd ever carried.

"Did you know they could do that?" Sam asked, eyeing Bucky carefully while he locked his arm in place, readjusting it with a swing. The gold plates shifted to recalibrate, his fingers flexing while trying to silence his thoughts that begin to run a million miles a minute.

"No"

Bucky trudged down the hall, his heart sinking when he could hear the soft humming from inside his apartment, his sweet girl already waiting for him to come home. He usually felt the weight of the world life off his shoulders when you were around.

Not today.

Not when he knew what he really was.

What he had been all along.

He let out a strained breath before rummaging for his keys and opening the door, the smell of tea, sugar and vanilla wafting through the kitchen and living room. He thought about escaping as soon as he toed his boots off, locking himself in the shower and calling it an early night, of course you'd understand but his body won over what his mind was screaming.

Your face lit up as soon as you heard the door creak open, setting down the book you were reading, excited to see Bucky after he'd been gone for days for a mission. Your happiness was short lived as he padded into the living room, the strained smile on his face doing nothing to mask the pain he was feeling. You could see the turmoil in his eyes, waves of emotion crashing over him before he could surface.

"What's wrong, bub" You coo softly, opening your arms for him. Bucky kept his jacket on, avoiding melting into your hold even though he craved it more than ever.

"Do people still think I'm dangerous?" He asks quietly, shifting away from you when he feels you pressed against his arm. Something so soft and sweet as you definitely didn't have any business being near something so terrible, disgusting, murderous-

"What? No baby, why would you say that?" Your heart breaks at the tears that begin to well in his eyes, his nose and cheeks reddening as he suppresses all the emotions that desperately want to bubble over.

"I-I had no idea others would be able to remove it" He whispers, chewing his lip till he nearly draws blood, avoiding your gaze to stare at the floor instead. The fluffy rug turns blurry as tears begin to escape, his throat growing unbearably tight. "M'still a monster" His voice cracks before the first cry slips out.

Your pull him into your chest as sobs begin to wrack his body, letting him lay on you while you wrap him safely in your arms. The feeling of your affection is too much for Bucky, he doesn't deserve it but he needs it; he feels selfish as he allows you to hold him, hiding his face into the crook of your neck.

"What happened, sweet boy" You coo against his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks. He continued to sniffle between whimpers, trying to calm down, fresh waves of emotion holding him down, his metal arm gripping onto the sofa cushions.

His arm was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

"During a fight" Bucky let out a shuddered breath before continuing, shame seeping through his veins. What would you think of him if you knew the people who had healed him still didn't trust him, "We were trying to calm things down. I didn't mean to do anything-I didn't-I was holding back, we wanted to talk things over, she-"

He bit his lip again as it trembled, still feelings the spots that were pushed, sending his arm to the floor, "I didn't even know what was happening. She hit my shoulder in a few spots and my arm fell right off"

You stopped your ministrations, your heart breaking into two hearing the pain in his voice. Bucky sounded so small, like an admonished child scared to tell the truth. He curled himself up further, still flexing his fingers, almost fearful his arm would fall off again without warning. You moved your arms to hug him tighter, wishing you could take away at least half the pain his was feeling.

"I didn't know they could do that" He said with defeat, still softly sniffling while you kissed the top of his head.

"You're not a monster baby" You knew how much work Bucky had put in, how much he struggled to get a hold of his mind again, how long it took for him to learn to trust others, to trust himself.

"Then why" You knew he was desperate hearing the plead in his voice. Why. Why did others still have control over his own body. Why were others still able to do things to him without his knowledge.

Why?

"I wish they'd told you why, baby boy" You brought your hand to gently tip his chin up, making him look at you, "Perhaps they have their reasons. Regardless, your heart is pure, Bucky" Your hands moved under his jacket and tshirt, stroking his bare skin, the feel of your pure hands already soothing his aching heart.

"They don't trust me" He sighed, sitting up again as his mind swirled. You didn't let him spiral for long, straddling his lap while his arms moved on their own to wrap around your waist.

"They do, bub" you shook your head, cupping his cheeks so he'd look at you. "They took you in and healed you because you were worth healing. You deserved it. I need you to remember my sweet Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is a good man. The opposite of dangerous, a soft, sweet boy"

"Do-do you trust me" His voice was small again, looking at you through his lashes, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the Henley you'd stolen.

"I trust you with my life, Bucky" You took his metal hand, brushing your lips against the gold ridges before kissing each of his cool finger tips. "Every single part of you. Your mind. Your body. All of it"

The mental exhaustion of the day began to take it's toll as his eyes grew heavy, cuddling into you while you rocked him in a comfortable silence. You smiled at the soft snores you heard moments later as Bucky fell asleep in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, baby" you whispered, gently waking him and taking a quick warm shower before jumping into bed. He was right back in your arms as soon as you pulled the sheets back, the grating voices not so loud any more.

Regardless of what the world though, had you.

A pure sweet angel.

She trusted him.

That had to mean something.

It would be a long road of healing but at least his had his angel to guide him.

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

Selfish - Lando Norris x Reader (ft.Oscar Piastri)

Masterlist

part 2

warnings: mentions of alcohol, s*xual references, contains cheating

summary: Lando can’t be with you. He had told you so countless times. But somehow seeing you with his very own teammate makes him regret his decisions. A twisted game starts, the only question is; who’s gonna end up winning?

„Who?“ Lando chocked on his food, almost spilling the drink in his hand as he sat at dinner table with his friends, letting the evening slowly ring out at his absolute favorite restaurant in Monte Carlo. It had been a long although fun day of all sorts of activities as you had all gone out on his yacht. Coming back you were all a bit sunburnt and tired, not wanting to cook you went out for dinner. Figuring you may head to a couple of bars later as you all enjoyed your time together as well as the first really warm days in Monaco.

„Mister Piastri.“ Max chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows in such a goofy way you swore you could feel the ick forming in your bones. So he quickly earned a punch from you straight into his upper arm as you chewed on your food silently. Your hair still slightly wet from having gotten ready in the matter of minutes at Landos place. Wearing almost no makeup as your freckles had started to come through.

„You‘re dating Oscar?“ Lando basically yelled as he put his drink down, causing a loud thud catching the attention of the tables next to you. You akwardly smiled at the elderly people who sent your friends a disapproving glare. It was always loud when the four of you were together. Max was your brother and that would basically end in bickering ninety percent of dinners. Ria wasn’t that quiet either. And Lando, well, he was Lando. The life of the party. His smile would be contagious and his laughter could lighten every situation. There wasn’t ever a dull moment around him.

„Shh!“ you shushed Lando as you kicked Maxs leg under the table. Ria next to you chuckled, scrolling through her phone. Max squealed in pain, allthough you knew he was being overly dramatic once again „Shut it Max!“

„What? It’s true?“ Lando now continued looking clearly disturbed. Unbelievable. You stared at the Brit before rolling your eyes in an unfaced manner. Lando shouldn’t care right? He had made it pretty clear he didn‘t. So you hoped he‘d not cause a scene now. Allthough you were pretty sure he wouldn’t in front of Max. That had been his ground rule right? Max couldn’t know.

„We‘re not dating.“ you responded never the less, staring at the young Mclaren driver who’s curly hair was sitting ever so perfectly today. Max couldn‘t help but let out a chuckle as you side eyed him. He could really be so goddamn annoying, he made your blood boil. But that‘s a normal thing for siblings to do.

„Oh, sorry. You guys are just hooking-“ Max continued, nibbling on his chicken wing.

„That’s even worse!“ Landos interrupted his friend, wiping his hands on a napkin. His appetite had just left him. His plate still half full. Hi voice was as high pitched as you ever thought it could get. Now your brother sent his friend a questioning look as Ria next to you crossed her arms, very aware of Landos never ending bullsh*t when it came to you.

„How’s that worse?“Max now asked, awkwardly chuckling. He knew Lando was your best friend as well. But of course he didnt get why he‘d be so upset about this. He thought he was just being protective. Ria now raised her brows looking at you, you looked defeated as Lando almost seemed disgusted. His face scrunched up as he stared you down.

„Yeah, why do you care?“ Ria now added fuel to the fire. It was sassy and Lando knew why. He knew Ria knew about everything. She was your best friend. She had already confronted him before but he mostly told her to mind her own business. This was between the two of you. It always would stay this way. Plus it ended months ago.

„I-I…“ Lando stuttered holding up his hands as if to prove he was innocent. He looked at you and then at Max „Look I dont care I just didn’t think Oscar was her type.“

You bit your tounge. Weak shot Norris. You knew Lando still thought you were not over him. Which you‘d never admit to, had some truth to it. But Oscar was nice. He was a decent guy, he treated you with respect and you two had fun. It was the perfect distraction, only Max had to ruin it again. Ruin it by making Lando aware of it. You knew how Lando could be when it camr to you dating other guys. You hadn‘t purposely gone for the teammate. I just happened. A glance at the paddock. A social media follow and just like that the Aussie slid into your dm‘s

„Why not?“ Ria now scrunched her nose, sounding honestly confused at Landos absolute nonsense. Who was he to say, who your type was?

„Well, he-„ Lando now started as he stared straight at Ria. He had no real answer on how he knew. He couldn’t say because he himself was your type. Not in front of Max. „He‘s younger than her. Which I didn’t know she was into-“

„Oh trust me.“ Ria now smirked as you buried your face in your hands not wanting to know what was coming next „Judging from the sounds coming from her room at night she is totally in-“

„Eww!“ Lando and Max now yelled out at the same time. You were bright red now but couldn’t help but giggle, your hand covering your mouth as you looked at Ria. She winked at you. God, you loved her sometimes. She could make anyone uncomfortable. Especially someone who was messing with you. Ria loved Lando as a friend, yet she hated how he had treated you. It wad equally possible. Luckily Max chenged the subject rather quickly after that. Not interested in hearing about his sisters s*x life.

You ignored Landos stares on you for the rest of the dinner and thanked god when it finally ended. The minutes seemingly not passing at all. Lando payed, inviting you all before the group left the restaurant. Stepping out onto the streets of Monaco at night. It was Friday, the weekend just starting so the place had been packed. You guys had to wait for Landos car to arrive, so Ria and Max used the chance to go to the restroom leaving just Lando and you to wait outside.

The Brit played with his yellow team quadrant cap as he watched you type on your phone. The sound of your nails tapping against the screen triggering him beyond measures. He normally wasn’t this petty. He knew he had no right to say anything. But he was annoyed you had to go for his teammate out of all guys. It seemed like you were doing it to get back at

„Who are you texting?“ he blurted out, immediately hearing how weird it sounded. So much on letting your impulsiveness win. But that smile on your face, he couldn’t help it. He had to know if it was him. He wanted to know everything. Had you kissed Oscar? Had you slept with him? It made Lando sick to think about it.

„You talking to me?“

„Who else?“ Lando sassed back. God he hated your attitude. He loved and hated it at the same time.

„None of your business.“ you stated, sending him a fake smile before continuing to text whoever was on your phone. Lando rolled his eyes pacing back and forth. It had to be Oscar. He awkwardly stood there for a while, figuring he better should not say anything else. But adding fuel to the fire was his thing.

„You know it’s not my business if you‘re hoeing around. But it is when you choose to f*ck my teammate.“

„Excuse me-“ you looked up. You couldn’t believe Lando’s choice of words. Once again. You open your mouth wanting to say something but to Lando‘s luck Max came out running before hejumped onto his back the next second. Holding onto Lando like a monkey.

Your mouth still hubg open as you watched Lando put on a fake smile. He spent the next minutes fooling around with Max before his car arrived. Ria came back as the guys stepped into the car, tipping the guy who had brought it. She put her hand on your shoulder, immediately sensing something was up „You okay?“

„He‘s such a d*ck!“

You remember how Lando would always pick on you when you were kids. It lasted till you were teens. He had made it his duty to make fun of you with Max at any chance. But he also was always first in line to protect you. Even more then Max. Every boy Max hated, Lando hated more. Every night you went out he made sure to drop you off and pick you up. He was always there. That all changed. Changed over something so stupid. He had to go and do it. Make you feel special for a second. Making you wait all these years, hoping he‘d finally come around. Finally stand up and tell Max he was with you.

Lando had been your first everything. Your first kiss. Your first time. Your first heartbreak. Max didn’t know. He‘d never forgive him. Or so Lando always thought. Not after lying for so many years. Always telling Max he didn’t know.

He didn’t know where you spent the night; you were laying in his arms hours prior.

He didn’t know where that hickey came from; it had been him the night before.

He didn’t know why you were crying and locking yourself in your bedroom; he had told you he was dating someone else.

You almost couldnt believe the thing went on for so long. It was stupid of you to wait for Lando. You always waited. Lando didn’t know this; you hadn’t gotten with any other guy ever. You had pretended so. To make him jealous as he’d get with all these girls when he was traveling. Or so you assumed. It was a year ago you and Lando officaly ended it. Or he did.

He had always told you; it couldn’t be more than sex. His long hugs and midnight chats were what fooled you. The way he’d caress your hair, whisper into you ear when he thought you were sleeping. But you should have just believed him; It didnt mean anything to him. It never had.

„Ahhh! Your breaking my heart!“ you yelled over the loud music. Earning nothing but a chuckle from Ria as you threw your arm around Oscars neck. The Aussie ,who was holding your waist to ensure you wouldn’t fall or trip over, smirked as he shook his head at your clumsiness. He thought it was endearing though. You were a cute kind of drunk. Much more affectionate than when you weren’t though.

„C‘mon Y/n? I told you I dont dance!“ he defended himself. He had told you as you had called him two hours ago basically begging him to come to this night club. He had just gotten his first own place in Monte Carlo and didn’t really go out much yet. Especially not to dance. But after you had done the most to convince him on the phone the Aussie somehow agreed to come.

Only when he did, he found you hanging over the bar already totally wasted with Ria just laughing her ass off. But Oscar didn’t judge. He loved to see you have fun, so he refused the drinks himself so he‘d be able to get you home safely.

„You’re so-“you grabbed the young guys face, pinching his cheeks and pecking his lips as he just chuckled „You‘re cute.“

„Am I?“ you asked, eyes wide open.

„Piastri.“ Oscar looked away from you seeing his very own teammate and your brother approach him. His heart stopped for a second. He hadn’t told Lando he was seeing you. He had avoided it, knowing the Brit could get weirdly protective over you. So Oscar didn’t know how to react as he just looked at you before muttering through gritted teeth „You didn’t tell me they were here-“

„Who?“ you slurred, placing your head against his shoulder. Your hand going into his hair, his oddly soft hair. Oscar knew the position you two were in already looked bad enough. He didn’t tell Lando he was seeing one of his best friends and he had avoided Max at all costs. So this wasn‘t exactly the ideal way to come clean about it.

„What are you doing here?“ Lando asked, not even greeting the Aussie. But he couldn’t, you were all over Oscar. Lando hated the sight of it. He had thought about it all week since finding out. Now seeing it. The image was gonna be forever engraved in his mind.

„She called me.“ Oscar stated, his mouth dry as Ria punched Maxs shoulder. Because Max was giving Oscar an unnapproving look, which caused the young guy to look terrified.

„She‘s drunk.“ Lando stated pointing at you, as Oscar still was doing the most to help you stand straight. He hated the way he held you. Wanting to rip his dirty fingers off you. He felt like he had been robbed. Robbed even though he knew you werent his. You hadn’t been for so long. The younger Mclaren driver scrunched his eyebrows together, he had no idea why Lando was being so rude to him. He had thought Max had been harsh when they first met. But Lando. Lando was on another level.

„I know. I was just gonna get her home.“ the australian guy stated but was interrupted by Lando walking up to him, grabbing your arm as he forcefully pulled you towards him. Oscar looked dumbfolded as Lando raised his eyebrows, you just laying your head on whatever shoulder it now was. Feeling your head spin. Maybe you had drunk a little too much.

„You always pick up drunk girls at the club?“ Lando spat out. It was a low blow. Even Max found it a little over the top, he tried to stop Lando but was held back by Ria telling him to stay back. Not wanting your brother to make things worse for you.

„What the hell mate?“ Oscar chuckled, trying to overplay the uncomfortableness as people around them were catching on the dispute. Probably thinking Oscar was some d*ck, trying to pick up drunk women. The young guy looked at Lando and then back at Max as if to try to tell him that was bullshit. Oscar didn’t realy care for Lanfos approval. You weren’t his sister. So he didn’t understand why Lando was being such a douche.

„Let it go. She’s not going home with you.“

Lando woke up to loud banging on his bedroom door. He tossed and turned before letting out a frustrated groan. Looking at his phone next to him, god it was early. With a sigh he got up and stumbled to the door, opening it to whoever was causing the unpleasant disturbance so early in the morning.

„What?“ Lando yelled before even seeing who it is. A finger is immediately placed on his naked chest as he looks down at your small frame. He has to prevent himself from laughing, your hair was sticking out into every direction as your smudged makeup made you resemble what he only could describe as a racoon. Or maybe a panda?

„You!“ your voice was deep, signaling Lando that you were mad. He raised his brows as his lips twitched nervously „Me?“

„This is not funny!“ you now yelled, pushing Lando into the room and closing the door behind you. You didn’t want Max and the whole house to hear what you were about to say. A part of living with all your friends you hated.

Lando stood there with only his underwear on as he awaited for you to go off on him with crossed arms.

„You are such a piece of sh*t!“

„I am?“ he chuckled, shaking his head as he placed his hand over his heart. Faking being offended. It was quite obvious to you, that Lando did not take this serious at all and it made you even more mad. It was like it was all a game to him.

„So tell me.“ he licked his lips looking at you with a disgustingly sly grin „Why am I a piece of shit?“

„I woke up to Oscars texts telling me exactly how you literally bullied him out of the club last night!“ you yelled, hearing how childish it sounded. But Lando was immature, it was no secret. He could act like a literal teenager if he wanted to and it made you hair stand up.

„No, No.“ Lando now stated, shaking his head hearing what he was accused of. He knew it was true, but he‘d never admit to „I only didn’t let him take you home. You were absoluetly sh*tfaced!“

„Why do you care if I go home with him?“ you yelled, wanting to rip his head off. Lando clenched his jaw, shaking his head. He knew you both knew why he cared. He hated the thought of you with someone else. He had no right to. So he could never admit it but it was the truth.

„I-I…“ he tried to come up with some logical explanation. But all Lando ever knew was excuses when it came to you. „I don’t want him or any guy to take advantage of drunk girls.“

„Oh, how mighty big of you.“ you hissed shaking your head. You knew it was bullshit. Lando wasn’t like some feminist king going around to protect girls. You turned around, done with his lies as you walked towards the door but before leaving the room you made sure to look back „Just so you know, if anyone’s allowed to take me home while drunk. It isn’t you! Its my boyfriend.“

Boyfriend. That word rang through Landos ears all day long. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Surely Oscar wasn’t your boyfriend yet. He had not told him so last night. He would have surely used it against him? Lando thought about it. It even kept him awake at night. Tossing and turning at the thought of you laying in Oscars arms. You weren’t home. He knew you were probably with him. Within seconds he pulled out his phone. He cursed himself for having to get up early for work the next day before he picked your contact name as he started typing.

Is Oscar really your boyfriend?

No too blunt.

Are you actually serious about Oscar?

No too passive aggressive.

Can we talk please?

Delivered 00:12 AM

„Be careful!“ you yelled out at Oscar as you looked back at the young guy hopelessly struggling on his bike. Riding bikes along the promenade was new to him. Luckily you were an expert, and the guy dressed in his orange Mclaren shirt just had to follow and hope not to embarass himself too badly. Allthough he knew you‘d never let him feel that way.

„Watch out!“ Oscar screamed at some pedestrians, who were busy taking pictures as they all cursed at him. A guy even holding up a middle finger towards him. You never laughed so hard as you could hear Oscar tell him off in a typical Oscar way, very politely and respectful he had told the guy it was rude. There were so many people here for the Gran Prix this weekend. Some even snapping pictures as they recognized the young rookie.

„That was fun.“ you jumped off your bike as soon as you arrived in front of the already busy paddock. It was only free practice day but the place was still packed with lots of visitors and press. Oscar tried to lock up his newly purchased bike, clearly struggling as he panted for air „Yeah was fun.“

You giggle looking at the young guy who you were convinced wouldnt get the lock on that bike on his own „C‘mon Piastri.“

He stood up as he looked at your smile, clearly defeated. He held the key towards you and just as you were about to take it Oscar grabbed your chin going in for a kiss. You smiled at the gesture as you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss not caring if anyone saw. Just as Oscars hand made it’s way down your back and stopped right above your hips a loud noise went off.

You and Oscar jumped apart, at the loud sound of the car horn. Looking to where it was coming from. Your eyes locked with the guy sitting behind the tinted windows. Lando was sitting in his Mclaren holding his hands up as if to claim innocence and pretend he hadn‘t just done that on purpose. He mouthed a short „Sorry“ before getting out his car putting on his sunglasses.

„Morning Oscar.“ Lando strolled past you chewing on his gum, not even acknowledging your presence. You looked after the guy in the white shirt as you rolled your eyes. He could be so goddamn cocky. Oscar only seemed confused. He even laughed it off, figuring Lando had really not intended to do that. You grabbed the Aussies hand as you stomped towards the entrance of the paddock. Oscar just following you, confused on why you were so tense all of the sudden.

„Y/n.“ he stated, stopping in his tracks as you tried to pull him further. You sighed looking back defeated, shrugging your shoulders. Oscar mustered you. That frown. Something clearly was bothering you and it had to do with Lando. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was though. He was scared that by asking, he‘d overstep boundaries. You weren’t offical yet. Despite all the rumors.

„What just happened?“ he knew it. He sensed it. It had been like your world had just turned around. You had looked at Lando so briefly yet it said so much. So much Oscar didn’t understand. Maybe hedidn’t even phantom it as it happened so quick. Cause if he had. If he had looked really hard, he‘d see a girl who was clearly still hung up on someone else.

„Nothing.“ you brushed it off, your lips pressed together.

Oscar knew you were lying. Only he didn‘t have the guts to tell you.

„Alright.“ he nodded, was he mad? You knew you were acting like a bitch. Oscar didn’t derserve this. He deserved someone less complicated. Someone who didn’t lie and hurt people. To your suprise Oscar reached out his hand to you. You hesitated before you took it. You both continuing to make your way inside the paddock. Oscar placed a kiss on your temple just before cameras spotted you „You know you can tell me anything right?“

Anything. You were watching the practice from inside the garage as you felt his presence next to you. He just stood there with crossed arms, his mouth moving. Luckily you couldn‘t understand at least not before taking off your headset that one of the staff members had given you.

„What?“ you sighed looking at Lando who had just gotten out his car early, due to a mechanical issue completely unsatisfied with his performance and the performance of the car. Things could literally only get better. On and off track.

„I said: what are you doing here?“ the Mclaren driver repeated, looking rather unwell with his hair sticking to the sweat dripping down his forehead. The bags under his eyes telling you exactly what you knew already.

„Watching?“ you sassed back, eyes on the screen as you kept your voice low to not catch the attention of anyone. Oscar was still out there to your luck, so there stood no chance of him witnessing what was about to go down.

„Since when do you come to watch free practice?“ he hissed, shaking his head as you completely ignored eye contact. It drove Lando mad. Especially since you wore that. His favorite white dress. He had gotten it for you; you were now wearing it for another guy.

„Since I was invited.“ you now look at him, hoping the harsh tone in your voice would just shut him up once and for all. But Lando just rolled his eyes, getting closer to you before grabbing your arm and pulling you all the way back to his drivers room. You didn‘t do anything, knowing it was time you settled this. Also your legs became pudding just before. You might act all tough but Lando made you incredibly nervous. He looked different this weekend. Grown up.

„You have one hell of an audacity to show up here for a guy who you are clearly not into, in a dress that I payed for.“

You swallowed. 1:0. You couldn’t let that sit.

„Oh, yeah Oscar picked it out this morning.“ you put on a fake smile, basically feeling Landos pulse as you two stood so close. You couldn‘t help it. A glance down at his lips. Was he trying to grow a beard? F*ck. „He also told me how he‘s looking foward to taking it off me tonight.“

Lando clenched his jaw. He wasn’t stupid. He saw those wandering eyes. So he did the one thing that his impulsive mind wanted him to.

„Shut up.“ he muttered before smashing his lips onto yours. You were taken aback. But god. That feeling. Those butterflies. It had only ever been like that with him. You kissed back. You missed him. It had been a whole year. You hadn’t forgotten though. Your hands wrapping around Landos neck pulling him closer as his hands gripped your bare thighs, wandering under your dress. It was a short lived pleasure because as soon as his hand had reached your hips the door was ripped open.

„Lan- What?“

[skelliko]

★-Tokyo revengers

- their insecure

๑-Context: them thinking about their crush (you) but then they start to get insecure and self sabotage about not being good enough

๑- featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, keisuke, seishu, rindou

-for seishu it was so hard because I know that boy is perfect-

°- kazutora hanemiya

• everything, he thinks of every little thing about him but manages to miss the bigger parts about him that does need fixing. his main thought was that no one as good as you would want to be seen around someone like kazutora due to his delinquency, heck even if you've also done some bad stuff he's still afraid that he'd just bring you down and be an awful influence on you.

for someone who went to juvenile for 'accidental' murder and is in quite a dangerous gang, thats a good reputation to hold in terms of strength, but for wanting something other than fights and instead something innocent like feeling what it's like to be loved... that's difficult.

• he also still dislikes how his face looks, to others he's handsome. to himself, he's nothing but a shit show that he looks deep and hard in the mirror with a straight face but then his expression changes to disgust.

sometimes he thinks if you've also felt like that, he's asked his friends about that sort of thing and the response is always 'sometimes' but when he thinks about you being insecure he feels like he's gone mad because to him you're absolutely perfect.

°- chifuyu matsuno

• sometimes he feels as if he can't protect you, there are times where he pictures out scenarios and he's afraid that he can't keep you safe due to where gangs would get the innocent involved even when they have nothing to do with either of the two bickering gangs and that always ends badly.

he doesn't want you to become a target and he's scared that his strength alone wouldn't deal with anything and you'd get involved in something that you didn't have a choice in. due to that he's forcing himself to stay away from you but part of him can't, he calls himself selfish for talking to you and going out in public with you where anyone would be watching.

• he wants to make you his but how can he keep you as his when there's a lot of options to choose from? he's afraid that there's someone better than him, that eventually you'd lose interest in chifuyu and that's not because he doesn't trust your trust but he's seen other guys and how they easily attract and how they can go on the day confident, chifuyu can't and he can't see that it's not because there's something wrong with him but it's just because he's not a player and he can't see that for himself or others.

°- Keisuke Baji

• when it comes to Baji he knows hes a good looker and as well as the heart, but sometimes in school he'd see you walk in the hallways and he gets a little embarrassed that he turns the opposite direction in hopes of you not seeing him in his nerdy disguise just so the school doesn't kick him out or hold him back for his delinquency. his slicked back hair that he honestly spends time on and is proud in the moment, but when he looks at it for too long he has to hold back on scruffing it up and going to school like his normal self.

You're aware of how he looks outside of school but not everyone does, he's nervous that if you're seen talking to him then he'd just embarrass you, and because of that he thinks you're embarrassed to talk to him too and you force yourself to, even if you've held conversations for a long amount of time and you seem to enjoy it with a smile Baji has a little worm in his brain telling him otherwise

• held back a year for him failing his exams, sure someone being smart isn't exactly a top priority for some people but he thinks you're one of them and he curses himself for not having the academic smarts for it, he'd sometimes compare himself to someone else in his class and think 'how the fuck are they able to memories this and I can't?' In all honesty though academics is pretty hard when you've got other stuff going on too

°- seishu Inui

• his burn mark isn't exactly something that bothers him but whenever he thinks of you and gets a glimpse of the mark from a window he can't help but think that it bothers you. he tends to get a little frustrated about it and whenever he thinks too much of the mark his frustration ends up in sadness because all the memories of the fire and his sister come rushing in.

• whenever he looks at you he can't keep his eyes away, he's always in awe at everything you do. but what does seishu do? getting hurt in gangs here and there and making bad decisions for himself? he knows his skills and the good of him but he also knows his flaws and he can't stand that. he wants to do so much more but he can't, he doesn't know how to and he doesn't want to disappoint you in any sort of way yet he always manages to disappoint himself

°- rindou haitani

• sometimes he considers himself to be in his brother's shadow, he hasn't thought of it like that at all but rindou would pick some things out and then look at his brother and that sense of being younger than him equals to being lower, his older brother seems to always do great causing jealousy to grow. it's like regular sibling rivalry, nothing major but it does linger around his brain that maybe at somepoint if given the chance you'd run right over to ran inside of rindou

• rindou knows the reputation that he holds, the dangers that he keeps with his gang. and one of those dangers also happens to the innocent. he's been foolish to be part of those sort of things before and karma always plucks out the ones that finally find something to be happy about. he doesn't want you to accidentally get involved and get hurt or even killed.

considering that the haitani brothers are quite well known if anyone were to see the sentimental value that rindou has for you, then you will become a target from other gangs that want to take the brothers down. rindou looks through multiple of scenarios as to how or where that could happen and in all of those scenarios the date is all unexpected. rindou's afraid that he'd be the reason to you getting hurt from someone else and he won't be there.

 ♡---

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Loveless Marriage Au: Jinwoo x Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: Angst to Fluff, Forced Marriage, Jealousy, Self-deprecation, Self-hatred, Implied Yandere Jinwoo ]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Cai Bot Link ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ I've always hid everything from you; and for that, I hate myself a lot ] ¡! ❞

There was an awkward air around the two of you due to the fact that it was an arranged marriage. It was a loveless union with the two of you. You had been there, you know how Jinwoo rose from being a placeholder to the world's most hailed hunter. And he had a secret, a secret that was you— His wife that he kept hidden from everyone else "I'm back" Jinwoo said as he went inside your shared apartment, his gaze as languid and empty like always. He felt cold, cold like he always had been.

You expected it in a way, after all, you're both arranged by your parents for some reason and even now you still treat each other like a pair of strangers just forced to share a house.

When he was an E-ranker, Jinwoo still had some courage to talk with you no matter how awkward and shy he gets. But after his accident in one E-ranked dungeon— There was a visible shift in the air around the both of you.

Jinwoo started to feel more distant. The more he grew, the more handsome he became— He felt more distant.

It was as if he was a star gleaming in your lonely dark sky, a star so close and yet so far.

Many times you tried to get his attention, but the blank look on his face made your heart shut down and end up avoiding him instead.

As he rose to fame, you became proud of him. Wanting to extend your congratulations but never got the chance since he is always busy with work or running off somewhere for some reason.

With the limelight shining directly on top of his head. The world is now aware of all his glory and his perfections.

His perfect grey eyes that are seemingly plucked from the finest jewels, his once childish and wimpy face had seemingly gone through such puberty that he is now a complete man, his features are perfectly angled, his demeanour of being distant added more to his allure.

With that spotlight came the eyes of many people, eyes that either praised him, hated him, but most importantly,... Eyes that yearned to have him as theirs.

It was fine at first since you had expected it.

But the more people loved Jinwoo, the more insecure and lonely you would get.

It was slowly eating at your head. Clawing your already insecure heart.

But why are you throwing a tantrum like this anyway? After all, you and your husband aren't even meeting eye-to-eye literally and figuratively.

When was the last time you two had ever sat down for a meal together?

Have you ever been on a date anyway?

Honeymoon? Never.

Jinwoo has never touched you affectionately, the only time he ever kissed you was in your wedding ceremony.

But even then that kiss was forced by both of you, maybe Jinwoo had secretly wiped his lips off when you weren't looking at the time.

You're not even sleeping in the same room.

Why are you being selfish when you are not the apple of his eye?

What are you trying to prove here?

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

As you sulked on the couch, the tv was on and playing the live interview that Jinwoo is currently on.

You listened attentively as Jinwoo was asked questions and answered. You can't help but chuckle bitterly whenever you hear stuff you never knew about Jinwoo.

It made you feel more pathetic, more disgusted at yourself, more hateful at the fact that you’re not a worthy wife since you don’t even know the most basic thing about your supposed husband.

As you felt yourself sinking into your own depression— You heard a question that made your heart drop in an instant:

“So, hunter Sung,” The host muses politely with an excited grin on their face.”When do you plan to court Miss Cha Hae-in?”

Your hand instinctively reached for the remote beside you and turned off the tv.

You didn’t want to hear his answer. You knew the answer and you didn’t want to know if you were correct or what. You don’t want to know whatever the hell he’s going to say.

Of course,

You should have expected this in the first place.

His embrace was never for you in the first place. Your connection was nothing more formed from a crudely tied knot that is tangled pathetically. It was obvious that the threads were tied when they shouldn’t be in the first place. 

Jinwoo’s affections were never bequeathed upon you, because it suits to be bestowed on someone as great as Cha Hae-in herself. After all, she is a brilliant saintess that everyone adored.

Everything about her is simply perfection.

Pretty, strong, a kind soul, and most importantly a strong hunter who can fight alongside Jinwoo in dire times.

You? What are you in all that?

That person’s adorations that you yearn so much can never be bestowed upon your pitiful soul. The only thing you can ever receive from him are empty grey orbs that seemingly wrap you around in sharp vines. That distant and cold look prickle at your skin and mostly at your heart that has already been scarred with this loveless bind.

The more you love him, the more painful everything is. Living with your unreciprocated yearning was clawing at your very being. It was as if you were running in a black void barefoot with nowhere to run to. You’re only reaching your hands out into the empty abyss ahead of you with some semblance of hope that maybe someone would reach out and yank you out of the darkness you have drowned in for so long.

A part of you wished those hands would be your beloved’s, that it would be Jinwoo’s hands tenderly holding your cold palms.

That maybe for once his tender voice would grace your ears. That for once you could call him your husband.

But even with your wishes, all you have are your meaningless daydreams and prayers.

Day by day, you endured all the wounds that are carved out into your pathetic beating heart. 

As your eyes glistened with tears, you choke up in all your pent up sadness and sob into the air with all your heart.

Perhaps your pain is from the fact that your head has been hurting all day despite taking medications already. But now, with the added misery of knowing you don't deserve your husband makes you more depressed.

You just wanted to disappear completely.

You wanted to rip your heart out so that you could no longer feel the painful ache in your chest.

You yearned for the sweet release of subjecting yourself into eternal sleep.

As you cried your heart out, you suddenly felt a pair of unfamiliar arms wrapping around your frame.

Your eyes wouldn’t process everything for a while until they eventually did adjust.

Once your eyes cleared, you could see some ebony black locks from your view. As that image translated in your eyes, your nose would catch a waft of a distinctive aroma that you can’t quite describe. It was somewhere between a floral sound and something that you can't quite put a finger on since it’s so unique on it’s own. 

“Sssh” A familiar voice hushes you, “It’s alright, it’s alright”

It would only register that it’s the person you’ve been missing after a few more rubs at the back of your head.

It was Jinwoo himself.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jinwoo apologises over and over again as he buries his lips on the side of your head. “It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault.”

Why was he apologising anyway? He kept saying a strand of sorries and all that and it made you cry your heart out even more.

Jinwoo would feel a tug in his chest, a type of pain he didn’t want to have but he knew deserved because of the pain he was putting you through.

He had never been honest with you, he never tried to ever grow close to you. Instead, he just pushed you away.

He had all the power he had, he had all the money and fame and yet in the face of your broken sobs and tear-streaked features— He became utterly powerless and helpless.

“Look at me, look at me” Jinwoo coaxes you ever so lovingly as he swipes your strands off of your pretty face. “Please look at me”

His gentle begging eventually caught your attention enough to finally see his gaze again.

The normally empty grey orbs were now uncharacteristically warm and sweet, with a bit of trembling in his look in which he tries to mask off.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m not courting anyone.” Jinwoo says firmly but sweetly. “I’m not going with her, she’s just a colleague. Nothing more nothing less.”

You wanted to ask Jinwoo how he knew that, but your words were instead swallowed up by your sobs and making you babble out incoherent things.

But even with your messy expressions, Jinwoo was still patient with you and instead pressed your foreheads against each other.

“I never…” Jinwoo sighs, taking a deep gulp as he starts to explain his size of the story.

He wanted to end the misunderstandings once and for all.

“I never hated you, it’s my fault for treating you like trash for the past years instead of adoring you like a proper husband, and instead I was blinded by my job and entirely lost sight of you” He takes a heavy sigh, the tone of his voice completely remorseful of his actions. “But that doesn’t justify how much of a jerk I am towards you. For that, I’m sorry. I’m so… So Sorry— And no.”

Jinwoo suddenly butts in, interrupting your words. “Just because we are married by paper doesn’t mean I have the right to treat you the way I did. Please, please don’t ever… Ever… Look down on yourself because of this. I'll always choose you regardless of who the world offers to me in a golden platter. I'll choose you.”

He gently swipes his thumb over your cheek, wiping away the pearl-shaped tears adorning your precious face.

“How about we start again, hm?” Jinwoo suggested with a loving smile on his handsome features as he stretched his palm out, revealing a pair of rings with brilliant gemstones that gleamed as it illuminated with the touch of light, with the meek and . “This time, I’ll stop being a jerk around you. Let’s start slow and steady, I won’t hide things from you anymore I promise. That is,... If you are willing to try again with me?”

When you nod your head in agreement, Jinwoo smiles gently before slipping the ring into your finger and leaning down to kiss it— As if he was casting a spell or some sort.

Or maybe he is making a quiet promise that from now on, he will clear your mind of any sort of doubt of anything regarding that you are undeserving of your position as his wife.

Jinwoo tugs you closer to his chest, letting you cry into his chest more while his fingers return to playing with the back of your head.

“So, hunter Sung,” The host muses politely with an excited grin on their face.”When do you plan to court Miss Cha Hae-in?” “... A wife.” Jinwoo mutters, his fists balling up as his jaw clenched from both anger and the shamelessness of the question. “Pardon?” The host blinks, confused at Jinwoo’s words before “Ah so do you—” “Don’t force words into my mouth.” Jinwoo says strictly, his grey eyes gleaming a terrifying colour of violet. “I said, I have a wife waiting for me at home. And that person is not the respectable Miss Cha Hae-in.” “Mr Sung I—” The host was once again interrupted by Jinwoo’s words. “I would appreciate it if hosts such as yourself stop forcing your rumours onto people like me” He says, with his patience growing even thinner the more he spends time on this couch that isn’t even comfortable to hang out on. “May I remind all of you that I am not a celebrity to be hailed and fawned over, I’m a hunter and I’m only here for formalities. I’m not here to satisfy your goddamn thirsts for drama.” “My lord,” Igris’s voice calls to his master urgently. “Your wife…” “What’s going on?” Jinwoo replies immediately telepathically. “My liege’s beloved is currently unstable and crying uncontrollably” Igris explains “They are currently viewing this… Show of some sort but turned off the screen after the question has been asked.” Jinwoo’s heart dropped at Igris’s report. His expression was pale as white as a sheet as the hunter stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else better to go than wasting my time here” Jinwoo says, immediately disintegrating into the shadows to teleport to where his lover is. Though normally teleporting takes just a fraction of a second— That fraction suddenly felt like an eternity as his mind raced. His worries for the past few weeks have finally manifested into full fruition. He knew that his fame was both beneficial and detrimental to his already nonexistent relationship with his wife. His wife who had always been there. Despite not exchanging any words with each other, his wife had always stuck by his side. He gave them the choice to leave and have a better life. And yet, they had stayed with him. They have seen him at his worst, their faith in him unmoving like a steady mountain. Yet, he has never once reciprocated their devotion. He mostly shied away from trying to make a move on them.  He had long been planning to start a conversation with them, to ask if they would give them a chance to actually fix their relationship as a couple. Jinwoo had prepared rings too, he found the stones in an S-ranked gate and thought that his wife must like it and commissioned a jeweller to make matching wedding rings with stones. He wanted something elegant and simple, just like his wife.  His beloved that never asked him for anything, his wife that never threw a tantrum towards him. Jinwoo often wished his wife was more selfish, he wished they would demand things from him, he wished that his wife could yell at him and tell him things instead of walking on eggshells around each other. He craved to have a connection with them.  Jinwoo badly wanted to be affectionate with his beloved.

And now having them in his arms, he felt both victorious and an odd mix of sadness. He held you closer to his chest, cradling and kissing the crown of your head. He loves you so much that he wants to rip everyone to shreds because of this moment but he also wants to just hold you closer to his own chest.

All you have to do is ask really, you just have to tell him what you want and he would have heads rolling at the tip of your feet. That host that dared to ask that question, maybe he should murder that bastard for causing you to wail like this.

However, that bastard also helped in opening this situation that the both of you needed to have.

“Huuu….” Jinwoo sighs, leaning his head back on the wall before kissing your temple over and over. “I’m here now, so don’t worry. I’m going to love you the way I should have been from the start, I’ll pamper you so much so that you’ll become a spoiled brat. Even if you throw things at me, I don’t care. I’ll rip my chest open and offer you my heart because you are my wife. Whatever you want me to do, I will do it”

[michanvalentine]

Things about Vincent Valentine that I read around and piss me off.

"Vincent should have done more!"

It is one of the most common observations. And I hate it! What he was supposed to do exactly? Ok, let's take a step back and pretend we're in the real world and not in a fantasy action video game. Vincent was a highly trained Turk and an excellent marksman. That's not enough to say that he was definitely also a cold piece of shit ready to do any job. In fact, I believe that Vincent was the exact opposite of this and that he was not cut out to be a Turk at all. Which is why he got into trouble. "Stern and upright" is how Square Enix describes him, so we're talking about a person who has great morals and a high sense of duty. And these two things don't always go together. To this we must add the naivety he had as a young man (evident in DoC) and his great empathy towards others (which FF VII Rebirth is highlighting a lot). So when Lucrecia decided to use the fetus as an experiment, Vincent found himself in an impossible situation, where morality and duty were at odds. Human experimentation disgusted him, but his role was as a bodyguard, nothing more. His duty was to watch and let the scientists do their work. Furthermore, at that moment no one could imagine what the result of such experiments would be and what Sephiroth would do in the future. So we're talking about a man torn by his own principles, full of doubts and, lest you forget, heartbroken. It is not easy to act in a situation like this. But he couldn't ignore his own morals, so despite his role he tried to reason with Lucrecia first and then he confronted Hojo, with the consequences we know. Did he have to kidnap Lucrecia? Did he have to kill Hojo? Did he have to burn the Shinra Mansion to the ground? Let's be honest, normal people don't act this way. And Vincent Valentine was the sanest one in the middle, so he paid for it. But even if Vincent had freaked out and gone down the path of violence, there would have been consequences and it would probably have ended the same way.

But let's go back to Lucrecia for a moment. Vincent's naivety and empathy did not allow him to notice the red flags. He only saw the best and deepest part of her, the fragile, kind and brilliant one. When she pushed him away, he still behaved as correctly as possible. He stepped aside, hoping that she would be happy. There is no selfishness, there is no possessiveness. This is called unconditional love, and it is very rare. Should he have claimed Lucrecia for himself even if she didn't want it? Fight the other man to get the woman back? Continue to chase her proclaiming his love like a crazy? These are some traits of toxic masculinity. Vincent left her absolute freedom, he respected her choices as a woman, as an adult and as a scientist, even if his sensitivity allowed him to understand some things before she could notice them herself. And that's why Vincent's question "are you sure this is what you really want" hurts so much. He knew it. He knew she would love that child.

The fact that Vincent feels like a failure who was unable to protect the woman he loved and her child is understandable. But this is only his feeling, his perception of himself in a situation way bigger than him. So no one will ever be able to get it out of my head: Vincent Valentine did everything a good man with his hands tied behind his back could have done. He went out of line for Lucrecia and Sephiroth, and was killed for it.

[elvestoneanzelote1]

Hello so sorry to bother but can I ask Yandere dazai x male reader? If it doesn't bother you.

The male reader is from the guild.

𝙰:𝚗- 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘! 𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

𝙴𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢.

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚡 𝙶𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍! 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛.

𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜--

--Another day went by and gone...--

"Hi there" a voice said to you as your hand halted mid air.

Your gaze falls on the caramel eyes that hold a recognition as his smile widens.

"I didn't thought I would see you again"

"...neither have I" you replied as without another word he took a seat across the table of yours.

"How... Are you?" He asked as you had an unpleasant expression present on your face.

Your lips was noticeably frowning as your eyes half-glare at him.

"What do you think?"

"...I see" he mutter out sighing as silence felt into the place as he hesistantly peek up from his distant gaze.

To yours... As he bite the corner of his lips as his eyes squint slightly on debating what to say.

--Not a pity nor care in your eyes--

"...what is it that you want?" You asked as he chuckled slightly after the silence.

"What I want? You know exactly what I want, Y/n" he utter your name as your eyes felt to the side.

You do not want to meet him again yet fate... How cruel of a fate was for you to meet him.

Utterly disgusting fate that have brought you to meet the man you utterly hate now.

"I'm afraid I do not know" you replied clearly as his eyes soften slightly.

---Unlike me, who waits today and tomorrow.---

"I wish to be back together" he replied without a moment.

Your eyes widen slight as you stare at him in slight shock.

Yet you hold your tongue to speak up.

"..."

"I know I was the one who... Broke up with you... Y/n... But I"

"Why?"

"I started to understand that I needed you back in my life... All those memories we shared is like a record player making me realise how much i-"

"I'm not asking about your feelings, Osamu" you replied sternly as your voice was stern. Your eyes stare at him as if... He was never wanted by you.

---For the past to stay.--

--None cared to come for me.--

---None care to comfort me---

"...I do not want to know about your feelings"

"What do you want me to say...? Y/n" he asked you as you closed your for a moment to calm down.

You would rather not let him take the satisfaction of how much he still affect you.

Once again... The silence felt as he stare at you confused.

As if he wasn't the one who broke up with you.

He wasn't the one who told you those hurtful things.

As if he wasn't the reason you almost...

After a while you open your eyes and stare at Dazai with neutral expression.

"Why after all this years... What make you think... I would take you back?" You replied.

His stares bored in your the familiar dullness on his eyes the day he left you... The day he make you felt you aren't worth it.

The day he make you hate yourself.

"Why not? Didn't you love me?"

"..."

"Say something y/n... It was just some break up... I did everything on my part to make you happy didn't I?" He asked more likely said to you with a quivering smile.

"No."

"..."

"You never make me happy Osamu" you replied as your eyes coldly bored in his.

His smile turn into a deep frown.

"I never... Make you happy?"

You didn't replied and stood up on your seat.

Before you left you utter those words back to him. Those words that have make you forget... You weren't even meant for anyone of sort.

"You are the most selfish person... Your love is just a meaningless words... You never make me feel special... Do not show me your face-" as you stop and side glance at him as he still face forward with tighten fists on his lap.

"Until you know yourself that... you are the reason".

---By and gone they all left.---

Dazai stare ahead as you uttered the same word to him.

As he didn't face you. He would rather let a dog bite his hand than seeing your hatred eyes.

He doesn't understand you.

He never understand you at all.

'I change... I swear I change unlike the mafia time I was...' He thought to self recalling those words he said to you.

You begged for him.

You smiled for him.

You killed for him.

You sacrifice your life for him.

You kissed him.

You hugged him.

You make love with him.

You loved him.

You did all that for him.

In the past... You did all that for him

what changed?

---As you stayed in my mind.---

In the past... You were overbearing for him.

He swore he never been this much loved by someone that it was very suspicious for him.

You loved him no matter what.

Heck you even forgive him when you caught him multiple times with women's and mans.

He never understood your devotion for him.

Your eyes held so much warm.

You... He felt suffocated.

You loved him too much.

Your love was too much.

Even if he hurt you...

Even if he was hurt.

you often been by his side whenever he needed.

You were too much.

Too much for him.

---By the memories we shared.--

---Another day went by and gone.---

But when he broke up...

He started to felt a piece missing for him.

Yet he ignore.

He ignore it till this day.

After he lost his closest friends which he never realised he was close to until it was too late.

Perhaps he was too late to find your love.

Your love.

It was too much.

Too much and only for him.

He realise it too late.

After you left.

No... He left you.

He told this horrible things to you.

He admit... He was wrong.

But why.

Why can't you give him another chance?

---From us to only mine.---

---Will you ever love me again?---

He couldn't help but frowned more as you were with a women.

He knows you are bi so was he either the fact.

You are rich now those women's just want to get your money.

For him he search everywhere.

Every place to find you.

The day he went to underground he searches for you so that he can repent for what he have done to you.

Yet... You left.

You left the damn! Country.

You left him.

You... Never say goodbye.

You... Broke him into pieces.

He never gave up though.

As happy as he was when he saw you again the day you came to the agency with your leader.

He couldn't help but find a light in it

Only to be shatter that you have a fiance.

...will it be bad if he plan something for both of your shake.

After all...

You did dirtied your hands for him... For his love.

It wouldn't matter if he does that for you as well.

Perhaps that way.

Things will be easier for you to truly love him again... Right?

.

.

.

A:n- that's all take care good night/morning.

[makuzume]

The Last Time You Talked to Him

🔅Yuta Okkotsu

🔅Content: Inspired by the recent spread on the events happening in JJK 261🥲; MEGA spoilers; gn! reader; Word Count: 1k

🔅a/n: I was genuinely sobbing with hot streams of tears falling down my eyes while writing this at 4 AM I am DEVASTATED I had to express it somehow,, Didn't expect to have such attachment to this boy.

[JJK Masterlist]

"...Yu...?"

The silence was loud, deafening even.

The weather tonight was pleasant and had a clear sky: the moon was high, the stars were out, the breeze was calm...

You could say it would've been a perfect evening to have another lovely date by the usual spot: under the big tree, behind the school, sitting on the soft grass...

However, despite the scenic atmosphere that surrounded you, the look on both of your faces were low-spirited, displaying a sorrowful expression.

"...Yuta..." Slowly, you lowered your head, staring at the ground in front of you as you hugged your knees closer to your chest.

"...Please...." You whisper, almost pleaded as a few droplets began to form at the corners of your glistening eyes.

As you did your best to remain composed, you couldn't help but feel your facade begin to slowly break, like a dam of overwhelming emotion threathening to burst at any moment, bit by bit-

A dam that's ready to release all sorts of feelings: pain, sadness, fear, worry, hatred, and love.

Your breathing slowly began to turn uneven, your quiet voice shaking slightly.

"....Don't go... please..."

That was it for you.

Those words were enough to completely break your self-control, cracking the dam open.

Your face immediately hid in between your arms as you tightly gripped on your knees, releasing all of the emotions that had built up inside of you, unable to contain them any longer.

It hurt, it really hurt, knowing what will happen to him after tonight.

"....." Yuta was silent, dead slient, unable to think of any proper response to say to you.

I mean, what was he supposed to do in this situation? Should he hug you? Hold your hand? Lie Reassure you and say he'll come back safely??

If the one you loved comes to you and suddenly announces that he'll be stitched into another person's dead body to battle against the most notorious curse in history within in the next hour, what else are you left to follow up with??

The person you loved the most... now using your dead teacher's body, whom you both respected so much, as a vessle, a puppet, nothing more than a weapon... isn't that a little too messed up?

Why him?

As sickening it is to use Gojo's body to the very end, you're just as disgusted at the situation where it came to a point that a young man, such as Yuta, needed to be the one to step up and tackle the situation.

For his friends, for Gojo, for all sorcerers, all civilians, and even for you. Your peace.

And everyone agreed to this, even Gojo, which made you sick to the stomach. Seeing how even your late teacher accepted the dehumanization of his own being for the sake of becoming a mere shell of a weapon, further being pushed even agter his death; turning himself into the monster everybody needed him to be.

'I will be the monster.' He just had to say it.

Your growing disappointment in the reality of the sorcerer world only continued to grow more.

But you knew it was something he has to do... he wants to do... for everyone. It would be selfish- incredibly selfish for you to beg him to stay with you, endangering the world because of it.

But you couldnt help it. Every fiber in your being was screaming for him to not do it, it's gone too far, all of it, even though that the plan was already set in motion when you found out.

It was hard to hate him for doing that, but at the same time, you hated the fact for still loving that strong sense of morals he clings onto so much.

With your head still hidden deep within your knees, you sob "...Please.... please don't go... pleas, Yu...." You tried your best to speak in between your desperate cries, your words getting more and more inaudible as you weakly shaking your head in denial.

You couldnt help but still try to plea desperately, as void as your attempts would be.

You knew your words were uselses, you knew he would push through anyway, you knew he was the one who wanted to do this, for the sake of humanity- but still.

All you could do was plea, as if asking the Gods for a miracle. A miracle that somehow all of this this: the deaths, the curses, Shibuya, Sukuna, sorcery as a whole... was just some big screwed up dream.

Yuta slowly scoots closer to you, his hand ever so gently resting on the top of your trembling body. His hand gently caresses your back, comforting your shaking figure that hitched out quiet, miserable cries.

"My angel...." he spoke, calling out to you gently as you let yourself cry for a little more before trying to calm down.

Your heart ached for a moment upon hearing his affectionate and caring tone once more, and perhaps for the final time. It was already impossible for you to cry any more intensely. It hurts you like hell and you were already crying as if you had already lost him.

He knew nothing could ease the situation and trying to lighten it would only do nothing. All the both of you, and everyone else, could do is just accept the fate this world has to offer him; Accept the gamble of a lifetime Yuta will be risking.

Risk if never coming back as himself, risk of death, risk of defeat and the triumph of curses...

He wanted to say so many things he could never say in an hours worth of time. Yuta still wanted to tell you how much he loved spending time with you, how much he admried you, how happy he is everytime he made you smile; how happy he is just even thinking about you...

He ended up saying none of it, hoping you would have already known all the things he wouldve wanted to tell you.

The sad part is: you would know. You understand him better than anyone else- and you knew every single word of affection, fear, regret, guilt, and love he wanted to tell you. And imagining hearing him say those things would only end up hurting you even more.

...

Will it be the same? Will he come back? Will he survive.

No one's certain, yet, you remain clinging on to hope.

But fate is cruel, in reality. Fate is painful. Fate is uncertain. No one knows what will make of him after this

After taking a while to collect yourself, finally, you look up at him, your hand clenching so hard to your chest, your lungs so empty of air, and your cheeks stained with the warm stream of tears falling from your eyes.

"...I love you most....don't ever forget."

Yuta said, almost like a promise, like a goodbye.

He loves you, more than anything, even his own life itself- he loved you more.

Which is why he is willing to risk it in order to create a peaceful world for you to live in, and only he was ready.

As difficult as it may be, you knew it was a hard slap to the face by reality for you to accept fate. It was imposisble, but inevitable.

The world of sorcerers was never a place of clear blue skies and joyful songs. Its a dark place.

It's hard to blame anyone, because this is where fate had let you afterall, a tragic end to a supposed-to-be love story that could've ended with a better ending.

"....Let's meet here again... once everything is over." In the most gentle tone, he spoke. His eyes looking at you filled with so much love as if you were the only thing that mattered that moment.

Against all opposing forces, you somehow convinced yourself to force a smile: it was weak... filled with sorrow and affection mixed together, and you did your best to show your pretty little smile he loved so much, knowing it might have been something he needed the most right now.

He only regrets he may not be with you after everything has finished; not be able to train with you and get stronger together- not be able to spend the rest of his days with you anymore, like he promised, like he hoped.

....That, and the fact that this would perhaps the last time he would be able to see your smile ever again.

I'll see you again soon...

...Yuta.

---///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///---

[Back to JJK Masterlist] [Overall Masterlist]

a/n: It took me a while to edit this before posting cause of the amount of typos I had to deal with as I sobbed while making this but at least I captured the heart of my emotions during a vulnerable time lol I guess

YUTA LITERALLY SHOUDERED SUCH A BURDEN BC HE KNOWS IT'S SO MISERABLE AND SAD FOR GOJO TO BE THE ONLY MONSTER AND DEHUMANIZED BUT NO ONE ELSE WAS TRYING TO DO WHAT GOJO DID MY BOYYYY

Credits to @makuzume on Tumblr || Do not steal, translate, modify, reupload my works on any platform.

[twst-drabbles]

Jamil 14

Summary: He attempts to close the distance and yet always pulls away at the last moment, as though trying to protect his heart from anymore hurt. You guess you’ll have to make the first move, just so he knows you don’t mind if he seeks you out for intimacy.

(In a monster lover mood. And in a Jamil mood. So, Sanctuary Jamil is gonna get the kiss he’s been craving.)

Honestly, if there was anything that Jamil wanted, you’d probably give without a second thought.

You didn’t mind when, in the kitchen while preparing for dinner, Jamil drifted his tail around your walking space. You didn’t mind when, in a fit of sputtering laughter, Jamil leaned his weight right on your shoulder and shuddered in a breath. You didn’t even mind when Jamil touched the tips of your fingers.

You didn’t mind at all. But, Jamil keeps retreating. You wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it weren’t for that. His pauses, his hesitation, his pulling back, there was something tender growing within Jamil. And this tenderness scares him. Or, perhaps he’s scared that this tenderness would frighten you? Well, either way…

Jamil’s tail would twitch then slide right back behind him. Jamil’s would gasp right next to your ear and stand up away from you. Jamil’s hand would stiffen and drift away from you.

You didn’t say anything solely because Jamil would never say sorry. He wouldn’t acknowledge it, preferring to ignore it altogether. You’re not immature, you know not to take any hurt from this. All this was not made with the intention to hurt, it’s the result of Jamil being hurt and scarred.

So you didn’t push for anything. You didn’t turn around and demand Jamil acknowledge anything, because you know this familiar and you know that he would retreat fully into himself. You don’t care for a tender heart by exposing it to the one it beats for most. You wait, you beckon, and you lead.

“Come here,” you didn’t grab at Jamil’s hand, you lightly tapped at his finger tips and let go just as easily.

“Oh? Do you need me for something?” His speech was entirely normal, but his gaze was focused on his hand. He was quick to recover.

“Nothing that will take too much time,” you opened the door to your bedroom, “I know you have quite a bit of cleaning to do.”

Jamil spine straightened just a bit. He’s been in your room plenty of times and yet, whatever is going on in his head, it made him stiff. You chuckled as you walked in with him, and Jamil’s eyes refused to settle on your face. His very small, almost shuddering, fond sigh reaffirmed what you suspected. He won’t run off and hide.

“Take a seat,” you gestured to your bed after sitting on it, “I want to do something.”

Any other person and you’re sure Jamil would ask for specifics. You know he hates nothing more than being involved in things that he doesn’t have the details for.

But he sat without question. You don’t dare assume that he did that out of ignorance or pure blind trust. The darkness of the room, the close pressing of your shoulder to his, the intimate privacy and just your tantalizing vagueness, you’re very sure Jamil suspects something.

But he’s still afraid. Afraid of crossing this boundary that he probably thinks you have, of permanently changing this easy back and forth that allowed Jamil peace of mind. Did he think you would be disgusted by his affection? That he would one day go too far and you’d snap him back into reality with an uncomfortable and apologetic smile?

“I’m going to be selfish, for a moment,” you brushed your hands on the sides of Jamil’s face. You felt him jump but he didn’t wretch himself away. Rather than reach in and yank his feelings out into the open, it’s better to frame it as though you’re the one that wants more, so that if something horrible happens, Jamil can blame you all he likes. “Do you mind?”

His eyes were wide and his breath almost gone. Then he calmed down, settling into the rhythm you’re trying to lead him in. His eyes calmed from their frantic shaking, his lids lowering as he lost himself in your hands.

“No,” his words were a whisper, afraid to break this moment as you guided Jamil to lean closer, to press his forehead against yours, “If you want to be more selfish, then you can take my entire being. I won’t mind at all.”

“Don’t regret it, then,” and you lightly closed the distance, dropping a light peck just to test the grounds of what’s too much and what’s not for Jamil.

You were worried for nothing. In his eagerness, Jamil jumped forward and pressed further into the kiss. You had to pull back to laugh for a moment before pulling Jamil right back in. He must have been holding back too long. How cute.

You’ll let him indulge for as long as he wants. You adore him too much not to.

[vulpixisananimal]

(. . .)

(What. WHAT. What do you have to say! I KNOW you have something!)

(. . .)

(We're back here again. AGAIN. After ALL THAT WORK. Do you have NOTHING to add to that?)

(Using the blinding dagger to get us back here. STARS. You want to protect Siffrin and you do things like THAT. Disgusting. You're Terrible, TERRIBLE! TERRIBLE!!!)

(And now we're stuck here! Again! Stardust can't come out because of that BLINDING MIND CRAFT. YOU I can't even trust to be sensible, and we blinding KILLED SOMEONE LAST LOOP!!)

(And you have NOTHING to say?!?)

(. . . It left, didn't it. Stars. . .)

(Even if it was annoying, a danger, stupid, whatever. It, it was someone to talk to. Stars.)

(You breathe in, and out. Let's just get this over with.)

(You open the bathroom door just as Isabeau knocks on it.)

"O-oh! Morning Sif!" (He doesn't remember.)

(You look up at him. What was your next line again? He was going to ask if you were ok and- You know what, no. You need this.)

(You hug Isabeau.)

"O-oh!!!" (After a second, he hugs you back.) "Is, is everything alright?"

(No. Nothing was alright. How do you explain this to him? How do you tell him you killed his friend. How do you tell him you're not who he thinks you are. You can't!! That's the punchline!! You couldn't get accross what you were feeling in a thousand Loops!! But what does that matter, you needed this.)

(. . . Was it selfish? Maybe. Maybe. . .)

(You made Stardust promise not to screw up with their family again. If you couldn't get that happy ending, they could at least. You still remember that fight, you still remember loosing. You still remember wanting to tear out Siffrins throat and stab him through the heart.)

(And now you were here, forced to see that happy ending play out while you, once again, are relegated to stagehand!!!)

(You're starting to cry.)

"No." (You finally say. Hugging a bit tighter.)

"Aw Sif, could I-"

"S-shut up." (You're crying more.) "Just, just shut up!"

". . . Sif. ."

"Don't call me that!" (You can't stop yourself.) "Every blinding time, every time you come check on us, to talk to him! And I have to sit back and pretend!! Pretend to be that happy Siffrin you all like!! Just so we can maybe get out of this BLINDING day!!!"

(Isa doesn't respond.)

"And now you probably think I'm crazy! Oh look! Siffrins gone all loopy~ TEE HEE! LOOPY~ Maybe they finally cracked!"

"S-. ." (He stops himself.) "I, I don't think that."

"Of course you do! Tee hee~ After all what else could, you. . ." (You look up at him finally, and stop.)

(He's. . . He's crying too.)

(There's a silence before he speaks up.) ". . . I. . . I don't, I don't know what you're going through right now but. . ." (He's looking for the right words.)

". . . . I'm sorry." (You finally say.)

"It's alright." (He respons, putting a hand on your head.) ". . . Do you want to talk about it?"

(You burry your face in his shirt and mumble.) "Maybe. . ."

"Did. . . Have you been looping again?"

". . . Yes."

"How long? And, and why?"

"Today, this is 8 or 9, I think. Looping because a defender, friend of yours, using mind craft on us. Keep trying to stop it."

"Oh. . ." (Isabeau gently scritches your head. It's nice.) "And, I'm guessing there's a lot more details to that?"

(You nod. Your breathing is steadying, finally.)

"Alright." (There's a pause.) "And uh, something, bad happened last loop I'm guessing?"

(Your breath catches, and you take a second to reply.) ". . . Yes."

"What was it?"

". . ."

". . ."

". . . We, we confronted your friend, they're going by Ramos now, and, and they turned into a sadness."

"And we died?" (He tried finishing.)

"No, we won. But Ramos, they. . . they. . ."

(There's a pause, then Isabeau hugs you tighter.) ". . . That, that sounds aweful!"

"You're not angry? Or, or scared?"

(Isa shook his head.) "I'm, well, I'm greatful and proud, proud that you came back to today even if you won to try again, but. . ." (Another pause.) ". . . I'm, a little scared, scared if Ramos is ok, and even more scared about if you're ok."

"Hehe. . ." (That's. . . Reasuring at least. You finally pull back a bit from the hug.) "I have had to deal with your memory getting changed, Mira getting accused of kidnapping Bonnie, Nille getting K.Oed by Ramos in one hit, oh stars I haven't even mentioned that looping is giving us craft exhaustion~"

"That's. . ." (Isabeau looks. . . Surprisingly okay? What a strange man. . .) "That does sound like a lot, but, I bet we can deal with it! Right? How many loops did you say it took in Dormont?"

"176~" (You say, now smiling slightly. You really WERE loopy.) "Give or take a few dozen."

"Then lets beat that record then!!" (Isa struck a heroic pose, it made you giggle.)

"Well it'll take a while to get to 177, but-"

"NO!!! NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!"

(You both laugh, oh, stars. You stumble Forward, light headed. Isabeau catches you.)

"Aw no, you sure you'll be alright?"

"Maybe..." (You take a breath. You DO feel exhausted. Last loop was the first time you properly fought something, and Mal Du Pays decided to go all out. You probably where slowly getting yourself killed with all this craft.) "Just, tired, and hungry."

"Do you want to go lie down? I could carry you back to your room if you want." (He was looking at you so sincerely.)

"I. . ." (That, sounded really nice, but.) "I need to explain this to everyone, and make sure they're ready, and think of a plan and-"

"Later, we have time! And you look beyond exhausted."

"But I need to-"

"If you try and push yourself I will pick you up and carry you to your bed."

(You look away. Ok. That DOES sound nice, you can't deny it. Stars. Why was he being so nice to YOU?)

". . . You, I'm, you do understand I'm not-"

"Oh! I guessed as much don't worry."

(WHAT?!?)

(You snap your head back. He could tell?!?! Oh stars you were REALLY rusty. Then again, you did just have a huge breakdown.)

(Isabeau saw your look and continued.) "W-well, Siffrin talked about all this yesterday, so I was thinking about it all night. And so when you ran to the bathroom this morning I wanted to make sure you were ok because, well, I was worried. . ."

"Tee hee. . ." (Defeated, you lean on Isa and start walking back to your room.) "It's, it's Loop. By the way."

"Glad to see you again, Loop." (There was a pause.) "a-and, uhm, sorry."

"Sorry?" (You asked.)

"I-if, if me and Sif ever, made you, y'know, uncomfortable..."

"Oh!" (Ah right. The PDA. Those two idiots had yet to kiss, but they got close. You were around sometimes for that. Well, sometimes it was JUST you around.) "O-oh! Nope! Nooooo issue all!"

"OhthankChangeok" (He sighed in relief.)

(He helped you back to your room, you didn't realize just how exhausted you were. When you got there you practically collapsed onto the bed.)

"I can get you breakfast!"

"Please, I think a quesadilla would fix me."

"Oh! Is that what Bonnie made today?"

"Every time, tee hee~"

(You both laugh, Isa goes to the door, but pauses a moment.) ". . . If. . If you ever do want to talk about, well, anything. . ."

". . . I'll, I'll think about it."

"Thanks, be right back, Loop."

(. . . Why is it that a bed only makes your body hurt more.)

(You close your eyes, you're so tired, Stars, you're so, so tired. You just need, need a rest. . .)

[skzpvol]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ THE BRIGHTEST STAR - bang chan ࿐ྂ

pairing: nonidol!bang chan x gn!reader

genre: angst, no comfort (i warned you)

warning: mentions of suicide, cursing, the entire drabble is full of hurt

words: 0.8k

synopsis: Chan visits you again. What will you say to you this time?

a/n (1): this drabble is triggering, so please if you are sensitive to the warnings DO NOT read. Your health is my priority and remember that you are not alone, you will never be. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. English is not my first language, so tell me if I made some mistakes.

«hi my love, i’ve missed you. Do you remember what day is it? It’s our anniversary and I really can’t believe that we’ve come this far. The younger me would be so proud to hear I’ve been with the love of my life for six years now. And I would do anything to spend this special day with you. Actually I don’t really want to celebrate. It would be useless if I’m alone. 

«I bought your favorite flowers today. Hope you will appreciate them. Do you remember the first time I bought you flowers? They were roses and you were so scared to tell me you were allergic. I felt guilty but when I saw you laughing I thought it was all worthy. Even tho I tried to kill you, hearing and seeing your laugh for the first time was like being transported to heaven. I immediately felt lighter and happier. You’ve always made me the happiest. It’s a shame that happiness is gone now. But it’s not your fault, if anything it’s mine. 

«the boys miss you too. You know, one week ago we met all together for the first time after the accident and I tried, I tried so hard to distract myself. I did everything I could, they did everything, but it was all pointless. I told them I was fine, that I felt like I was already moving on, but they were all lies. I can’t help it. I don’t want them to be worried. They’ve already suffered enough and I don’t to be another burden. 

«I wrote you a song. Yes, another one. It seems like you are still my biggest inspiration. I really want to sing it to you, but it’s not finished yet. You need to wait just a little more. I promise you, the next time I’ll come with the lyrics. Just wait for me. 

«why y/n? Why did you do this to me? Was I not enough? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust me? Why? Why did you not search for help? I would have been there. I would have listened to each of your worries. I would have stayed with you. I would have told you that everything was going to be okay, that you were not alone. So why did you never told me how you were really feeling? Fuck- why? I know that it’s anyone fault, but I feel like I’m the only culprit. I know that i should not be mad at you, but I am. I’m madly angry. I wanna scream, cry and at the same time let everything go. But you will still not come back to me. So why should I try anyway?

«I’ve always seen suicide like a way to die for cowards. I’ve always thought that people who chose it were selfish. But who am I to think about it like that now, if I wasn’t even capable of helping you? I’m the real selfish because in 6 fucking years I wasn’t be able to look into you, to look through you. You were suffering and I didn’t do anything. I tried to blame you when you told me you needed me, so who am I to fucking say you are the selfish one? I’m a mess. I’m a disaster. 

«the last time I saw you, you were happier. I remember that I even asked you why. You just told me “today is a beautiful day” and before I left you said “I love you, always will” for the last time. If I only knew. I read somewhere that a star burns brightest in its final moments and I get it now. Every time I look at the sky I always wonder if you are finally happy. When I look at the glowing stars I always think it’s your way to tell me that you are there. You are there and you are okay. You are protecting me. 

«I cry. A lot. Even now, I can’t stop crying. The guilt it’s really hard to bear. I can’t even look in the mirror without feeling disgust towards myself. And you would probably be disappointed too if you saw me like this. You want me to be happy, but I can’t. Not without you. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t look out for you when you needed me the most. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when I was supposed to. I’m sorry that i was the worst boyfriend you could ever ask for. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. 

«will I ever be able to see you again? I really hope so. But I’ll make sure to look at the sky every single night and look out for the brightest star. Because you are there, aren’t you? 

«please wait for me, I still have to sing you a song. You will be proud of me, I promise.

a/n (2): hiii, how are you? I’m finally on school break! Sorry if I’m being inactive BUT, apart from school that is really stressing me out, I’m working on a bunch of things (a long ass fic and a smau :)) ). I probably already said this, BUT I’M GOING TO SEE MY STRAY KIDS IN JULY AFTER TWO YEARS, AND I’M THE HAPPIEST. I cannot really wait. Btw, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed it. I also ask you to like it and tell me your opinion about this to help me to improve. Have a good day / night 🫶🏻

[cherryblossom-enthusiast]

The Rules (Joel Millerxf!Reader)

Part of the Bloom! Universe 

A/N: Hello!! Thank you all so very much for the support on Bloom! You all are such big motivators for me to keep writing. To give back, I wanted to give you guys a peak into florist! reader and Joel’s future. Maybe I’ll do a part 2 if people wanna see more of it? Cheers!

To those seeing this for the first time, it is a comapnion piece to Bloom

Again, if you wanna be updated, please turn on notifications for @cherryblossom-enthusiast

Synopsis: You’ve been teaching Joel a lot about flowers. It’s about time he tells you a thing or two about cowboys. 

Warnings: Language, Allusions to Smut, Suggestive Comments, 

Word Count: 1.4K

Fluff 

Masterlist

Laughter.

It’s the last thing you expect hearing from anyone.

But as you stand here, in the middle of a bar, surrounded by friends, on a Friday evening, it almost seems like the whole world hasn’t gone to complete shit.

People around you are dancing, boozing, having a good time, and for a few obscure moments, they can pretend to be anywhere but here. Where you don’t have to think about what to trade, when to wake up for patrol. How to survive, where your next meal will come from.

It’s a place to forget, or maybe for some, a place to remember.

For you, maybe a little bit of both.

The thoughts of tomorrow plague you too, but it all halts when you see Ellie. She’s spinning on the dance floor with one of the girls and so so vibrant. She notices you staring and motions vigorously for you to join them. After a quick swig of beer, you place your bottle down and approach the two girls. The three of you create a circle, hand-in-hand with each other. There’s no way to explain what the three of you do. It’s all swishes and twirls, this way and there, and you just let the music and atmosphere consume you.

Maybe you shouldn’t be enjoying this too much. Not when there’s so much loss and grief around you. But, taking a few pages from Joel’s book, why couldn’t you be a selfish fucking asshole for a short while? Yes, there is suffering and bloodshed, but for now, even if to pretend, you can say you’re still breathing and it’s all alright.

“You ladies mind if I cut in?”

Speak of the devil.

You’d notice who’s drawl it is from a mile away. Hard not to when you’ve heard it yell, heard it snicker.

Heard it moan.

The three of you stop what you’re doing and sure enough, Joel Miller approaches your circle displaying that grin you’ve gotten so used to seeing. You bite your bottom lip and give him an all-knowing look. The look. Like you couldn’t understand how he was talking to you, like he was everything right in all the things that made him wrong.

He made sure to return a look of his own.

With a wail of disgust, Ellie pulls the other girl away from your grasp and hurries her to scurry off. They’re off before you know it, but you hear Ellie’s teasing from an earshot. “Ugh, c’mon, they’re gross when they start making kissy-kissy faces at each other.”

You chortle at her comment and Joel shakes his head, trying to look disappointed. He circles his hands around your waist and you loop your arms around his neck. It all comes too naturally. The fact that there was once a time where you couldn’t speak more than one sentence to each other feels like a lifetime ago.

With a raised eyebrow, you flick the cowboy hat perched on top of his head. “Really making sure you’re dressed to fit the role huh, Texas?”

He shrugs and that grin of his just grows wider. “Hadn’t worn one in a while.” He admits. “Thought it’d be nice to.”

You plant a kiss to his cheek and pull back. “Thank you very much for my peonies this morning. They were lovely.”

What started off as something simple became ritual, became habit. Every Friday morning, Joel would leave you a flower in vase before he left to do his morning errands. At first, you tried to reject it, telling Joel he didn’t need to exert all this effort everyday just to woo you, but you should have known immediately that it was something a lot deeper. It took longer than you’d like to admit, but you finally got the gist of it.

Joel Miller has never been a man of many words. The flowers have become a way for him to express what he feels in a language only you could understand.

“You’re welcome. Wish I could give you more but-“

“Joel, I love them.” You move your hand, so your palm rests on his cheek. His eyes close from a brief second. “Just like I love you.”

He lets out a deep sigh and re-opens his eyes. “You are too damn good for me darlin’.”

You reach around him to hold his waist and pull him towards the bar. “You can make it up to me by getting me a drink.”

As you advance towards the bar, you see Tommy, already with a glass of dark liquid. He notices the pair of you and slouches against the counter. “Well, well, you sappy old fuck.”

Since you and Joel started seeing each other, Tommy has become even more of a constant in your life. He was similar to his brother in a lot of ways. Hardworking, sincere, downright fucking scary when it mattered, but he was, for a lack of a better term, lighter than Joel. You wouldn’t say it was easy for him to find purpose other than mere survival, but he was able to show off that lighter side of him a little more as compared to his brother.

You giggle as Joel groans. Giving Tommy a quick hug, you pull back and notice both the Millers are wearing similar hats. “Aww, you guys are matching?”

Joel steals his brother’s drink and swallows it before Tommy can even react. Tommy pays no attention to Joel and flips him the bird as he responds back to you. “Yeah, it was from that cabin we scouted a while back. You know the one? You and Joel stayed there over that storm right?”

How could you ever forget that cabin?

“Right.” Your face flames at the memory.

Before your mind starts to go down that rabbit hole of dirty thoughts, you try and continue the earlier conversation. Swiftly, you pluck the hat off of Tommy’s head and place it on top of yours. “Okay, maybe I need something a little more my size.” You admit as your vision is blocked. After a bit of concentration and even more fumbling, you are able to balance the hat on top of your head so it seems like it fits you perfectly. Placing a hand below your chin, you beam at both men. “How do I look fellas?”

You wait for a response, but you get nothing in return. Just the Millers staring at you in pure silence.

“Uh, guys?” You hesitate to ask. “What’s up?”

Tommy gives you a breathy laugh and a smirk curls up his lips. “I’m flattered sweetheart, but I’m taken.” He tells you.

Confusion consumes you. You look towards Joel for help, but his eyes are glaring a burning hole at the hat you’re wearing. The same stare he gave anyone who got in his way. “Joel?”

Without a single word, he comes up to you, flicks the cowboy hat straight off your head and places his  on top of your head instead. His jaw is clenched and you can’t help but notice he’s frustrated at what you just did. Why? You have no damn clue.  

Tommy picks up his fallen hat with a hearty laugh. “And that is my cue to leave.” He pats your shoulder. “Have fun.”

Your brows knot and you turn your gaze back to Joel. “Did I do something wrong?” You ask him, genuinely concerned you screwed something up.

He holds your waist closer to him. “You didn’t do something wrong doll, just did it to the wrong guy.”

“Huh?”

Joel stares down at you, faces only mere inches apart. You could kiss him right now, wanted to kiss him right now, but you waited to hear his explanation.

The intensity in his eyes grow stronger. “I’ve been learning so much about flowers from ya doll, but maybe I should start teaching you about some of our rules too.”

The perplexity in you keeps growing. “Rules?”

He slowly nods. “Cowboy rules.”

Tilting your head, your eyebrows are frozen on being creased. “There’s rules?”

“Uh-huh” He responds despondently. His hand travels down to the curve of your ass. “Lesson one,”

He gives you a light spank.

“You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.”

- - - - - -- 

Part 2?

[heavenlymorals]

The Tragedy of Dutch Van Dir Linde

Warning: spoilers ahead for both Red Dead games.

Dutch Van Dir Linde is one of the finest characters I've ever come across and that I think about a lot because in many ways, he is represents the dreams that people have and the awful reality of it too.

Heytham, what the hell do you mean that this manic, selfish, delusional piece of shit is like you or me?

Here is an example. When you were a kid, did your parents tell you that your dreams will come true if you worked hard? And did you believe it? I know I did. I studied often, got a great SAT score, joined many extracurriculars, did volunteer work regularly, got a part time job, had all high grades in advanced level courses and in AP/honor programs and I had one goal. To get into my dream college.

I made my resume. I did everything right. I listen to what people better than me told me to do and I waited for that acceptance letter- so confident that I would get into the university. Never once did I imagine that I'd get rejected, but I did. For a 17 year old kid, it felt like the world was ending. I remember sobbing myself to sleep, waking up, and then just laying on my bed disappointed in the world and the lies it fed me. In a perfect world, I'd have gotten accepted. Worst people than me got accepted, why couldn't I?

But I moved on. Life continued and I was fine. I was bitter, sure, but I managed to get over it and work towards better paths and a better future.

But what if I didn't? What if I got hung up on that forever? What if I fought the rejection? What would I have done? What would I have not done?

This little experience, one that many people have gone through, is kind of a microcosm of the much bigger human truth that the world will never be an ideal place due to the human nature.

If I was like Dutch, I would have fought the rejection- I would stick so diligently to the ideal that I believed in so hard, even though that failure was more than likely a guarantee. I wouldn't find an alternative to be better and do better things. I'll get hung up on a dream and never move past it.

That's his dilemma. He believes in the ideal, like we all do, but he will fight tooth and nail to make that ideal real while we will sigh and realize that life will never be the way we want it to be.

Dutch feels betrayed by the world, or at least by his vision of the world- especially America.

America was a country built on the promise of all men being born equal under God and under the law. All men.

That was the dream, the hope, and the promise.

What happened instead? The continuing of the institute of slavery, the massacre of natives, the monopoly of magnates, and the constant discrimination of those not considered 'white'.

It was disgusting and awful and it should've never happened- but it did and people tried to remedy it in ways that were gradual but real. They found different paths and different dreams and though there is still much work to be done, people are finding a way.

Dutch couldn't do that though. He refused to do that. He wanted the ideal and he wanted it immediately, even though it was impossible. He killed for his ideal, he robbed for his ideal, and he led people to hell for his ideal.

But it didn't matter. His ideal will never exist and he couldn't accept that- which leads to his end.

He won't be caught. And he didn't get caught by commiting suicide- a final fight. He wouldn't surrender to John or the Pinkertons, because that would mean admitting that his entire life was a struggle for nothing because his vision will never be realized if people like Cornwall or Favours or the professor continue to exist. Life was hell because of those people and the American dream did not exist because of those people.

"What a beautiful dream. So poorly rendered," - Dutch to Arthur.

And Dutch is right! From the very beginning that this country was created, it relied on an ideal that turned out to be a lie.

And Dutch couldn't handle that and wanted a perfect world that can never be realized and he tried to get that perfect world by lying and stealing and cheating and killing. What a depressing dichotomy.

Now, of course, when it comes to the personal motivations of Dutch, whether pride, hubris, narcissism, or any of that, they can all by factors to Dutch's pointless battle, but his motivation has always been clear and it never changed-

"Yeah, I know it's tough. You like Dutch. He's a charming fellow. He makes sense. He's like one of those nature writers from back East. Only he takes things a tiny little step too far. Rather than just loving the flowers and the animals and the harmony between man and beast, he shoots people in the head for money. And disagreeing with him. Now, I'm not a great intellect, but the metaphysical leap from admiring a flower to shooting a man in the head because he doesn't like a flower, is a leap too far." Edgar Ross to John Marston.

Dutch lived and died to create an ideal that would never be real because he could never accept reality and that is one of the saddest fates a man could have.

[yawneon]

AHHH LUKE X THUMBS BY LUCY DACUS 😍

thumbs .

a/n : i return.

pairing : luke castellan x reader

summary : you hated hermes almost more than luke. to the point that you’d kill him.

!!! : erm i hope u like this.. i didnt proofread this im sorry pookies. 😞

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •

bound to him by blood, connected by pure coincidence. luke tried to forget it, tried to find his family instead of just having one.

only a fool would deny that luke was stuck in his fathers palm despite his dad being everywhere but where he was needed most. every single thought that ran through lukes head was the way his father probably laughed without him, smiled without him and was content without him. luke knew that he had other demi-god kids and they needed hermes as much as luke had, and yes it was selfish, but gods did he want to kill his dad.

bitterness rolls off of lukes tongue as the iris message fades, a sour frown imprinted onto his features. you push the door open to the hermes cabin and you walk to stand beside luke. your hand grabs onto his arm gently and his expression softens.

“what’s wrong?”

“my dads around in long island, he wants to meet.” the last word of that sentence ends with a hard and exagerated t.

“you don’t have to go and see him luke.”

lukes eyes meet yours as you move to stand infront of him. he opens his mouth, words ache to be released but nothing releases for a moment and only an exhale escapes.

“i’m going to.” he nods, he face turns away from you to miss the way your face contorts into a slight confused and worried lour.

you two go back and fourth. your trying to convince him to leave his dad in the dark, get him back for all the years he didnt talk to him. but luke, he couldn’t. for some reason there was this feeling inside of him to go, and eventually he convinced you to go with him to a nearby diner and sit down with his dad.

-

you both, hand in hand, walk into the small retro-style café. you see hermes sat in a booth waiting for his son. rain poured outside, making the sign on the roof glow throughout the night.

you watched as luke made eye contact with his dad, the way his lip twitched into a frown, the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly and how fucking badly he wanted to stand there and shout. but he didn’t. he walked over, calm and collected to his father and he sat across from him.

it disgusted you. rage filled up into your bones and the marrow in your bones seemingly hardened at the very sight of lukes father. it was enraging the way spoke, “you look great luke”. hermés smiles.

all luke can muster up is a grunt in reply and a squeeze to your palm. 8 years he had been gone, 8 years of no sight of him, not even a 50c birthday card. pure radiosilence.

you would kill hermés if you could.

you imagined doing it, getting back at him for all the pain he caused luke. your parents wouldn’t approve and zeus would the gods smite you down. but you would still do it.

lukes nails dug into the fabric of your jeans above your knee and you tried to keep your expression neutral but you seethed. you could feel how it affected luke despite the way his lips curled into a soft smile.

anger fell from your shoulders around you and you could feel the fire crawl up your back infecting you with its fury. it infuriated you how similar they looked, the way their eyes glimmered the same way under the lights. you hated the way hermes looked like luke, or maybe how luke looked like hermes. you thought about how your thumbs would press into the irises of the gods eyes until they bursted like those pearls you get in boba.

lukes eyes softened in a sad way, his brown eyes finding the table more interesting than his father infront of him and you can tell, your heart can tell how badly he hated it. you let out an ahem sound and they both look to you, “we ought to get going, its quite late and i imagine you have much work to do.” you stand from your seat and you pull luke up with you.

“let me give you both a lift home.”

“no it’s quite alright.”

you both walk, a tad bit too quickly, out the door. luke could just feel hermes’ gaze on the back of his head like a shadow almost. your hand slips into luke’s and you lead him in the wrong direction of camp, to try and lose the god. (you can never really lose them.)

your mind couldn’t stop thinking about it, how you would tear down all of olympus for luke. how you would kill a god for him. you didn’t really understand how luke kept nodding along and smiling slightly at hermes’ words. how the gods words didn’t seep into his blood and his bones making him feel furious like they did to you.

you would kill hermes if luke let you, quick and easy. you remembered how his nails dug into your knee, how his smile never faltered. you would kill him if he let you, dig your nails into the bulbs in his eye sockets and make sure luke and his siblings are the only ones to ever wear the same ones.

“your bound to him by pure coincidence. its all relative. you don’t owe him shit even if he said you did.” you say to luke, your eyes glancing up to his face for a moment and you catch the way a tear rolls down his cheek. your hands reach towards him, cupping the sides of his face your thumbs brushing at the wet trails on his cheeks.

“you don’t owe him shit even if he said you did.”

-

@yawneon

[rambheem-is-real]

Varadha's Greatest Strength Part 2

read Part 1 here

warnings: slight NSFW, implications of torture

-

It's much later when Deva and Varadha get to go back to Varadha's mansion, after the negotiations with the Shouryangas. They had taken up the entire day, but the very fact that the Mannarsi were willing to cooperate, and the presence of Deva had helped make a deal that both tribes liked. Varadha could see the relief in the bodies of everyone around him, a lightness that he hadn’t seen since years before. 

He had done it. The fantasies he’d forbidden himself to have growing up, of becoming the karta and ruling Khansaar, he could make them all come true. He wasn’t selfish enough to dream of having money, of having the newest manufactured weapons from around the world. All he wanted was to see his little brother, his men happy for once. Not eyed with thinly disguised disgust, or suspicion whenever they tried to walk around the city. Not threatened with violence just because Varadha had no power to stop it. Now, Varadha was the ultimate authority of Khansaar. No one would cross Varadha’s men, and he would ensure that their punishment would be suitably violent if they tried. 

As they enter Varadha’s place, still holding hands, Varadha feels Deva consciously change his pace so that he enters right foot first, along with Varadha, and the simple gesture sparks Varadha up inside. He has to fight to resist pulling Deva down for a kiss again. There’s time for that, he tells himself. 

Once they’re inside, Bilal and the others immediately scatter with flimsy excuses and knowing looks between themselves. Varadha sees Deva’s cheeks turn red out of the corner of his eyes, and Varadha himself isn’t entirely unaffected. Am I that obvious? he wonders. 

Maybe not that obvious, as Baachi turns to talk to him like nothing unusual is happening. 

“Anna-” he’s cut off by the mute boy physically dragging Baachi away, ignoring his protests. “What are you…” Baachi trails off as the boy presumably tries signing something. “WHAT??? THEY’RE GONNA-” the rest of the sentence is cut off as they hear the back door open and close.  

Varadha and Deva are left the only two on the first floor, air tense. Varadha turns to Deva, still holding his hand. The blush hasn’t gone anywhere. Varadha is incredibly fond of the way the towering, muscular man has managed to look this cute.  

There’s a question in Deva’s eyes, waiting for Varadha’s permission to be asked. 

Fuck it. Varadha knows what they both want anyway. He cups Deva’s face and brings him down for their second kiss. The first had been a simple press of lips, completely unplanned. Deva had just looked so good on his knees, calling him his Sulthan so reverently, that Varadha couldn’t control himself. 

This one was different. 

Varadha almost loses himself in the sensation of those wet, warm lips, and the gentle scratch of Deva’s beard against his, when the kiss is abruptly broken. Deva only leans back a few inches, but far enough to deter Varadha from instinctively closing the gap. 

“What, raa?” he whispers to Deva. “Getting cold feet now?” Varadha’s joking but lead pools in his stomach. Both times they kissed, Varadha had initiated. Did Deva really not feel that way for him? Was it purely platonic? Did he just not want to refuse Varadha in front of everyone else in that room?

Deva gently wraps his arms around Varadha’s lower back, pressing them slightly closer. He gives him the stare that Varadha had always remembered, the one filled with pure steel. The look that told Varadha, I’m here. I’ll protect you. I’m here for you, and he unconsciously relaxes a bit. 

“Rey, is this what you want?”

Varadha frowns. “Deva?”

“Is this what you want? The whole time I’ve been here, I’ve seen you do everything either out of fear or for the sake of other people.

I love you. I can say that, because it’s true. You’re everything to me, Varadha. There’s not a single day out there that I didn’t think about you and what you might be doing behind these walls. But I don’t want you to feel obligated in any way.”

Varadha blinks, stunned. “And I love you, raa.” He brings Deva’s face down again, this time instead to press his forehead against the other man’s. “I don’t think there’s ever been a time where I haven’t loved you. I genuinely do want you by my side, not just as my fellow leader, but as a life partner.”

Deva looks like he’s searching Varadha’s eyes. “You’re not saying this to keep me happy, are you? To keep the Shouryangas happy?” He suddenly leans back. “Just say the word, Varadha. One word, and I’ll never bother you again. I’ll kill them all myself if that’s what it takes for you to know peace. You wanted me here to protect your brother, right? I’ll consider that my purpose and leave you alone.”

Fuck. Varadha doesn’t know exactly what Deva has been through in the last twenty five years, but he’s realizing Deva was probably just as miserable as him. He swallows, and silently vows to make sure Deva never feels this worthless ever again. 

Varadha lets go of Deva’s face and reaches behind him to grab Deva’s hands. He presses kisses to the knuckles of each hand, letting the affection show through him. Gripping both hands, Varadha states, “I would rather kill myself, than watch you leave again. I can’t go through that again, raa.” He watches Deva’s lips open into a hopeful smile. “So, unfortunately for you,” Varadha says as he leans in, “You’re stuck with me forever, even if you don’t like it.” He stops himself the barest distance away from Deva, and waits. 

“Okay, I’m yours,” Deva breathes, before finally closing the distance. 

Varadha doesn’t know how they make it to his room, honestly. All he can recall is Deva’s lips on his own, his hands wandering up the backside of Deva’s shirt to feel the Shouryanga scars adorning the strong muscles. At some point, Deva had asked whose room, and Varadha had just replied, “Ours.” 

As they cross the threshold of the room, Deva picks Varadha up, carrying him the last few feet before he’s gently deposited onto his bed, the action a lot hotter than Varadha wants to admit. 

They kiss for a while more, until Deva sits back on his heels next to Varadha. 

“How far did you want to go?” Deva asks, slightly out of breath. Whatever he sees on Varadha’s face makes him blush deeply once more. “I’ve never done… any of this.” 

Varadha had forced himself to not think about any partners Deva could have taken in the last twenty five years, had just hoped he was happy and left it at that. But to know that Deva hadn’t even sought anyone out, that he had held onto the love he had for Varadha, it makes him satisfied in a way he knows he shouldn’t be. 

“I haven’t either,” he answers, and delights in seeing Deva’s eyes darken, clearly feeling the same possessiveness. What a pair they were. “I don’t lack an imagination, though.” Varadha doesn’t want to take it too far so soon, but he also doesn’t want to stop right now. “Take your shirt off.”

Deva’s eyebrows lift at the order, but there’s a glint in his eyes that Varadha knows means he’s enjoying himself. 

“Yours too,” Deva counters, and Varadha obliges. 

Nakedness was not something either were unfamiliar with. As children, they had bathed together, and seen each other in various states of undress. It was a privilege that Varadha hadn’t granted anyone else, even Baachi. He quite literally trusted Deva with his unprotected back. As such, both stripped briskly, and the thought of being seductive about it occurred to Varadha too late. 

He swallows at the sight of the sudden expanse of muscle, though. His Deva is well defined, hours spent laboring in the forges resulting in an exquisite body. Varadha aches to be able to taste those shoulders, press down on the brown nipples, leave nail marks all over Deva’s abs, but he also knows he has no idea what he’s doing, and doesn’t want to scare Deva off.

Deva in turn has also been appreciating Varadha’s bare chest, but Varadha can see his eyes trail to… oh no. Deva’s starting to frown and Varadha knows it’ll turn into a whole conversation if he doesn’t stop it here, so he climbs right into Deva’s lap and kisses him again. 

 “I’ll tell you later, raa,” he whispers. 

The atmosphere is softer, less heated than how it was downstairs, and Varadha takes his time exploring. He presses a kiss to the other man’s forehead, Deva’s eyes fluttering shut. Tilts his head down to kiss the beautifully curved nose, then meets his lips again. Deva in turn presses kisses just above Varadha’s lips where his nose ring falls, then manages to find a particularly sensitive spot of skin just below Varadha’s ear. 

The pressure starts building up again, this time pooling in his groin, so Varadha experimentally grinds down. Deva moans at the sudden contact, and Varadha decides that’s the most beautiful sound his Deva has ever made. He resumes kissing Deva, while slowly setting a rhythm with his hips. Deva starts rocking into him as well, clumsy at first but matching his speed soon after. The kisses turn more frantic as they move against each other, and Varadha stops thinking; lets himself just feel the sensations. 

He doesn’t know how long its been until Deva’s making a ruined noise, hips stuttering, and buries his head in Varadha’s shoulder. The knowledge that he had just- that Deva had just- is enough for Varadha, and the heat inside him crests. He cries out as he rides through whatever this sensation is, feeling the release inside the fabric of his dhoti. 

The two just hold each other for a few moments, regaining their breaths. Deva then pushes down until they’re lying down, Varadha on his back and Deva on top of Varadha, head resting on Varadha’s chest. 

It’s where he belongs, Varadha thinks. 

Deva looks up, resting his chin on Varadha’s sternum. He wraps his hands around Varadha’s back, and Varadha goes to smooth out Deva’s hair. 

“Good luck getting rid of me now,” Deva grins. “I won’t leave even if you try to kill me.”

“I should be telling you that,” Varadha retorts. “You’re mine now.”

“Yours,” Deva easily agrees. He opens his mouth to say something else, then starts wheezing as something seemingly just occurs to him. 

“I just realized…” Deva’s doubling over, clutching Varadha’s hips. “My mom’s going to skin you.”

Uh oh. Varadha had completely forgotten about Amma. Even at his ripe age he was still scared of the stick she had used to discipline them both as kids. Forget the stick, she had an incredible ability to make him feel absolutely miserable as she obliterated them with words. He swallows, and rolls them over so Varadha can cuddle into Deva.

“Actually, that’s a problem for tomorrow. It’s sleeping time now.” 

“Okay raa,” Deva says, still giggling to himself. 

Varadha stops fighting his own smile. Deva’s back with him, against all odds. Maybe he can persuade Amma to stay here as well. 

Deva. Amma. Baachi. His men. 

Everyone he’d ever loved, and they were all with him. He goes to sleep, legs wrapped around Deva, still smiling. 

tags: @deadloverscity @sada-siva-sanyaasi @sambaridli @sometimesbrave @just-a-lazy-person @vijayasena @mad-who-ra @umbrulla @jitterbugbetty @chocolate-1-0-1 @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @sinistergooseberries @tulodiscord @varadevaficrecs @hum-suffer @nini9224 @varadevlawyer

[grapejuicestyless]

i have had this idea for so long, but i really think you could do this justice. sort of like the film the holiday!!! but not really set in Christmas and more so through the seasons. harry moves out of the city (doesn’t need to be a singer and could just be a CEO) into a small village in a lovely cottage where all of the furniture is mismatched and there’s sash windows which are always open. He’s there for a few months before he starts to feel lonely so decides to bring in a lodger! He hand makes posters and puts them on the village hall board and … he finally gets a taker! It’s a quirky girl who is totally all over the place and she moves in .. the seasons change and so does their relationship.. friends to lovers OR ACTUALLY maybe it could be so interesting for it to be enemies to lovers! That could be fun to write. But idk I’ve been thinking about it for so long !!! They could organise a dinner party for friends one night or maybe Harry goes away to the city for a meeting and that’s where y/n realises how much she misses him / likes him. Definitely has to be fluffy but also needs to have some drama. I haven’t figured that out yet 😭😭😭 I’m so sorry for this really long rambly post but I wanted to give u as much of my brain as possible lol. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see what you would do with this / if it’s something you’re even interested in. Have a gorgeous evening / day / morning xxx love you!!💖💖💖💖💖

Bad People

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and Y/n met by pure luck. Sharing secrets and laughing like little kids, ribs and cheeks hurting. Y/n is sure Harry is destined to be in her life forever. She’s just not sure when that became a bad thing.

FLANGST/FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS

The pale blue sky looked gray from certain windows. The glass was cracked and the stove stained with boiled over soup broth and old sprinklings of spices.

The birds sang solemnly, humming the tune to what I believed sounded like something you’d hear at a funeral. Here, the pavement was cracked and the stars were consistently covered with clouds. Snow, more often than not, fell heavily. From October to April. The nearby ocean nearly always too cold to swim in. The backyard pool cold and clean, still with nobody to inhabit it.

All the beauty ripped from the earth, and replaced with another kind of it. I wouldn’t mind it half as much, if I had someone to enjoy the snow with. To enjoy the polar plunges, the visible breath and numb fingers.

Like old times sake, snowmen and snowball fights. Sledding or fort making. Rosy cheeks and icy hair a memory of the past. Cheeks hurting from smiles, not the winter chill.

The laughter of my mother was long gone, and my brother outgrew his desire for a sibling as soon as he turned sixteen. Few friends, not any at least, that would enjoy the activities the white powder offered.

So now, I look out the window, nursing a glass of wine propped up on the windowsill. I don’t see the snow day ahead or pray for a white Christmas. I pray that one day, I’ll find someone to enjoy it with me. To soothe the pain little eight year old me suffered with the absence of her father, her distant mother and her selfish brother.

“Looking at it won’t make it fall any faster, Y/n.” The puff of air coming from my nose fogs up to cool glass, and my fingers leave prints along the center.

He’s not looking at me, he rarely does when we aren’t fighting. It’s like I disgust him. I feel like a fool every god damn time.

“Have you always naturally been an asshole or did you grow into it?” I don’t look at him, but I feel his gaze settle on my reflection in the glass. His voice alone urges me to take a large drink from the wine glass. The ruby red staining my top lip. I spread it around and taste the bitterness of it on my tongue.

He begins to leave, almost succeeding without a passing glance, but biting his tongue is something Harry nor I have ever been able to do. So it’s natural how he goes for the last word.

“Theres only so much wine, Y/n.” He teases. I down the rest while he walks away. The sigh that leaves my mouth after I feel the ghost of him leaving me isn’t only for air, but because suddenly the room feels lighter.

It’s funny, how someone so special can leave such a disgusting taste in your mouth. Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing. To remember that it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always hate my old friend, bounded to me through the home we share. I once enjoyed the company of Harry styles.

It was nearly a year since I’d moved in. A year since the slow turned to thick ice and roads became bare with people too afraid to try and navigate through the harsh winter.

Nearly a year since I first saw the house at the end of the road, with a neat front lawn and a tree with hanging branches ready to snap.

A red scarf and red mittens is what I wore. With a faded brown coat and worn blue jeans. A hat on top of my head and a journal tucked underneath my arm. He had the greenest eyes I had ever seen. The stars in the night sky didn’t quite shine as bright as his eyes, I swore it to myself.

He had an english accent, one that I wasn’t familiar with. Peach fuzz and dark chocolate curls a mess on his head. When I told him my job, he laughed, but something about his shocked expression after told me he didn’t mean it cruelly. Rather, that he was shocked, or just piecing the puzzle together.

“I’m my mother’s daughter.” I told him, “She always had a thing for poetry. The sappy ones with the tragic endings. I got it from her and I’m damn good at it.” I smiled at him then, and he smiled back bigger.

“It’s just funny. Moving somewhere so quiet for a job all about fantasy and adventure.” He explained, already guiding the two of us through the wide doorway. I set my boots in the old entryway which it seemed he had turned into a mud room. I admired the shade of green on the wall and nodded along. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

That night, while settling into my new space, I shared with him my life. My goals and dreams. With his toothy smile and boyish eyes, he made it so easy to trust him. I sat on my newly made bed and he sat in my spinning chair by my desk. Moving it back and forth, swaying slowly. A cigarette started dangling from his pocket, I still remember the way he took it between his thumb and his index finger. Rolling it around, debating whether or not to light it. It was like he didn’t know he had it.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker.” I laughed at him, he laughed back. Shy almost, only looking at me for a moment.

“M’not. A few here and there. Helps to wind down.” When he ran his hand through his hair, I remember seeing all his rings. A rose and two with his initials. One looked like a lion. That one was my favorite.

Other than his charming smile and infectious laughter, I knew nothing of him, I had come to realize. Here he was, knowing about my family and friends. My job and my hobbies. All I had asked him was his name.

When I asked him, he was just as talkative as I was. A sparkle in his eyes when he talked about his job. I remember specifically, how they lit up extra bright when he mentioned his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma. I learned about his job too. Harry had everything he could ever truly want. The money, the power, the glory. His office at the top floor overlooking the bustling city that never sleeps. Families dancing around the square and traffic backed up into the city line.

The sad thing was, that even with all this pride he got to carry with his reputation, the city was no home to him. The summer held no comfort. Not the same now that he was long out of school. The heat was simply uncomfortable. His lavish suit sticking to his skin. Even the air conditioner couldn’t soothe the pounding of his head against the strong New York heat.

His nose stung in the summer. The warmer it got, the worse it smelled. Garbage littering the streets no longer covered by thick snow. Tourists and their children filling up all his favorite places of relaxation. Each carrying their own scent from home. The calming pine from the North or the tangy citrus of the west coast.

Harry felt no true love for his home anymore. No real attachment. There was no smell of home, and there certainly wasn’t any old faces with their gravelly voices and thick accents. If it weren’t for the business there, he would’ve fled somewhere else long ago. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere that felt like home. If he could, he would have tucked himself back into the small home his mother raised him and his sister in. He would’ve curled up happily in his twin bed and looked out the same crooked window each night and feel happy with only that.

He tells me that when he got in the car waiting for him at the airport, he was tempted to tell the driver to take him home, to see if it would make him smile. He’d seen the gag used in all the old rom-coms he and his mother used to watch. The short blonde running from the love of her life only to be led back into his arms. But Harry know’s better. He tells me so. So when the driver asks him where to, he tells him the address.

He told me about his work life. How there was a branch out in the UK. The one that started it all. And as his success grew, so did his aspirations and his needs. London no longer provided him with the luxury and opportunity that New York could. So he swapped out his office for a penthouse and acted like the smell of burning garbage and mysterious wet spots on the sidewalks didn’t bother him.

It’s a vicious cycle. To outgrow, to long for, to move, to hate all over again. Thats how he decided that London has just what he needed. His business within reach and smaller towns surrounding its borders.

“And what about now? Are you happy?” Harry crinkled his eyes then, smiling a nodding along. He didn’t even mind it then, when I would interrupt. In fact, he welcomed it. Claimed he loved hearing me talk.

I agreed with him when he said that the grass is greener down here. The stars are just that much brighter and theres not a single car honking their horn past nine. All things that left him feeling a whole lot calmer than the chaos of the city.

Here, Harry told me he didn’t mind not living in a lavish penthouse just a few blocks away from his work. Here, he was hours away from the city. He stays in a medium sized cape cod styled house, pre-decorated from the past owners who didn’t care to take their things when they left for something bigger. It sticks out from the rest of the homes nearby. He wonders how something so different ended up within the same area. And he smiled and sat on the floor when I laughed and told him he’d already lived quite the life for a nearly-thirty year old man.

When silence took over after over an hour long conversation, I bit at my nails and looked at the floor. Suddenly, it came to me.

“Harry?” I had asked. He hummed, looking at me. Even if I hadn’t looked back, I could still feel his eyes on mine. “What made you want a roommate?” When my eyes flickered up to his, I saw no hate, or disgust, or shame. Nothing that I am familiar with now in Harry’s eyes. I saw curiosity, warmth and happiness.

“I like the quiet. I like being able to sleep without someone yelling down the hallway. I like how green it is over here.” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. “But the quiet get’s lonely. And while I like the quiet, I hate being alone.” And it made me smile back then. Maybe it still does thinking about it know. He had been helping me in finding a home, some place warm to stay. Meanwhile, I had been able to give back. Give him what he wanted. At the time, my heart warmed.

For a long time after that, Harry made my heart beat fiercely. He brought me flowers and made us pancakes. Freshly picked blueberries from the local market. He cracked jokes and I repeated them back between our broken laughter, imitating his english accent.

He was a charming man, with an energy that invited and kept you drawn to him. Everyone wanted to be around Harry. The men and the women. Always wanting a piece of the pie. I felt rich in life, that while others had to work for a lifelong friendship with him, naturally, we fit together. We worked.

He entered my life by some kind of coincidence. I needed a place to stay and he was offering a room up.

When he brushed his thumb over my knuckles and kissed the skin, I believed we would be like this forever. Just the two of us.

When he whispered to me that he loved me that same night, I thought it was something he would never take back. Something that would never change. His warm breath and glistening eyes. He was red and shiny. A bottle of the cheap champagne sat on the table and an empty glass beside him. I let his lips trail around my hand and laugh at his antics.

“Harry.” I mumbled into the darkness, he doesn’t move. I silently giggle again after he puffs air out of his own nose onto my hand playfully. His shoulders shake with his own fits of laughter, “Harry.” I call out again, and my eyes are met with his dazzling emerald ones. I almost got lost, forgot how to talk looking at him.

My palms were sweaty with nervousness then. My heart beating out of my chest. I wanted more than anything to tell him everything. As a poet, it should have been easy to put my thoughts out in the open air. But they hadn’t sat within me for long enough to curate a straight forward answer.

How would I even manage to start on how beautiful I thought his brown hair was? Perfectly colored like milk chocolate treats that curled over his forehead. Or his toothy grin which pulled butterflies from the pit of my stomach and made me feel lighter? I couldn’t find just one thing to focus on. And the words that came out of my mouth tumbled out quickly.

“You’re my best friend.” I hoped that he would’ve been able to see how much love I held for him in my face. How even in the dim lighting of only the fireplace and the fading lamp in the corner, he could see how they sparkled just for him.

He pulled his hand away after that, clearing his throat and nodding. But he smiled so softly after that I didn’t see how his eyes welled up with tears. I only saw his perfectly pink lips and his rosy cheeks. For once, I wasn’t focused on his eyes, and I paid the price.

He never made pancakes for us after that night. Nor did he ever pick flowers from the fields or crack jokes until our stomachs hurt. My hand was never slotted between his and my head didn’t rest on top of his shoulders. His was colder, more distant. Quiet.

But the quiet grew old for us both. And the slipping away hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced. I was everyone else in his life. Fighting for a spot in the light so he would see me, smile at me, acknowledge me.

Part of me wondered why he never asked me to leave. To pack my bags and find another innocent man to love because he wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. But he never did. Harry hated being alone and I knew better than anyone else. I knew it because I was his best friend at some point. We shared the same breaths and drank from the same glasses. I wore his shirts and he used my hair clips. He kept me around not because he still wanted me, but because he still needed me. And the realization of it all hurts worse than the silence because it’s then I know that I’ve really lost him. It leaves me with the question, ‘What have I done to deserve this?’

I think back on that night when our world shifted on its axis and I go over every word that was said. I check for any signs of discomfort or anger and I find nothing. It plagues me with a new insecurity.

Maybe it wasn’t something I’d said, maybe it wasn’t something I’d done. Maybe the warmth from the champagne grew cold in his blood and the false euphoria from it all cleared from his peripheral vision and he realized that I was no longer enough. I was not what he wanted. The idea of his roommate becoming his only friend too pathetic for a man with such power.

Soon after, I stop putting up a fight. I stop fighting for a spot in his life and I stop trying to win back a man that was never mine. I figured at least if he could never be mine and I would never be his, at least I still got to see his pretty face everyday. And I could imagine that we never drifted.

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost. The tears running down my cheeks are hot, burning my skin until my throat dully aches and my chest is red with flakes of nail polish and the dragging of my nails clawing at my chest.

I am sobbing, broken and tired. I dream of a life that is not as miserable. I dream of a life where I no longer doubt the things I love. Where I don’t have to question my friend’s loyalty.

He knocks on my door, leaning against it in only his flannel pants. He has tattoos that compliment his skin so well. He looks like a painting. I’m relieved to see him again. Even if it’s under these circumstances.

I wait for him to speak, even if it’s merely a mumble. Even if I cannot understand.

“Can you stop crying? I can’t sleep.” He requests. My lips part and I swear my lungs collapse within my chest. I can’t breathe and somehow I remain composed.

“Okay.” I say quietly, nodding along and trying to find his eyes. They look at the floor, and his face is contorted like it pained him to say that to me. Like it was against his will. But he doesn’t even look at me.

When he leaves, I collapse, shoulder shaking with rage, sadness, confusion instead of the contagious laughter that once rang out through the halls.

I decide then, July moon shining through the sash windows of my room that I couldn’t continue holding onto Harry. My heart still beats for him and my eyes still sparkled when his own lingered for just a moment longer on me, but I couldn’t like him.

Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing.

After that night, his selfish wishes turn to bitter comments which turn to vicious attacks at my confidence. And my resilience and devotion to silence, to ignore the cruelty of it all is worn thin. My bitten tongue is freed and I am betrayed by my own words. My own comments targeted at his deepest hurts. It’s a mutual hate between us, a mutual dislike.

We live within the same four walls, the same windows and creaky roof over our heads. We cook in the same kitchen and we sit on the same couch, but we cannot stand each other anymore. The house is no longer filled with love, and the warm heat turns to bitter cold. And yet, neither of us have the guts to leave.

We sit here, in a life thats so mean to us just because we are afraid of the loneliness that is surely to come with the other’s absence.

We are here, but we aren’t present. It makes me laugh, it makes me wonder.

Who could ever leave me? But who could stay?

The candles burned down to the floor, wax melting over the wood as the lights set a warm, homely mood for the night. The late December rush throughout the town turned to the few and far between searching for last minute supplies to ring in the new year. It’s peacefully still outside, and the dining room looks so nice I forget why the candles burn and our nicest plates are set out.

Harry insisted on having a small gathering with some of our friends to celebrate the new year before he went away for sometime for work. Being roommates, despite our lack of interest in establishing our own friendship, his friends become my friends and mine become his. It’s a fairly large group that was once two. But have now become so closely intertwined that it seems hard to differentiate who was friends with who first.

There was wine, pastas and breads. Hams and potatoes. Drinks and endless desserts. It felt nice, to have all those people we cared so deeply about chip in and help to create such a lovely meal for the few of us.

Hearing that first doorbell ring to see all of our friends stood proudly on our crooked doorstep made my heart flutter. Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Elin, Charlotte, Nyoh. All holding various foods to add to the never ending supply on the multiple tables set in a row.

“Harry! Y/n!” The enthusiasm from our friends seemed to lighten the mood, letting the heavy feeling of heated arguments and constant anger slip down my back and into the farthest part of my brain.

It was times like these where I’d forget how to hate. How to spread anger and disgust to someone who clearly showed none of it in return in these times. Here, Harry was talkative. Always plastering on a fake smile and wave.

He was good at pretending. And while the walls of the house had seen a different story, those around us were innocent, forever unknowing of how Harry constantly belittled me, bothered me. Of how I was no better. How my tongue was sharp and my words shot to kill.

Nobody minded the difference in height of the dinning room table against the kitchen table. How one was round and the other a rectangle. Both covered by one long table cloth. Nobody minded the soft music in the background or how the light wasn’t the brightest. The soft flickers never mentioned.

We let the candles burn until they had nothing left to give, and we ate until it was bare and our stomachs hurt. Here, I never felt like I was trapped. Here, I remembered by I came to live with Harry in the first place. And I was thankful. It was times like these I couldn’t help smiling like an idiot. Cheeks sore and eyes crinkling. I would laugh at just about anything, trust anyone and agree with everything.

“When are you going to tell him?” An elbow to the ribs pulled my gaze from the end of the table, my smile dropping for only a moment at the sudden shock.

“Sorry?” I mumbled softly into Sarah’s ear. Her eyes glimmered with something mischievous, like she knew something that I didn’t. She licked her pink lips and looked briefly back to the end of the table. All the way over by the dining table, sat a few feet away and a couple inches higher, was Harry. Laughing and talking with Pauli and Elin about anything and everything. I couldn’t quite make it out over the soft chatter of Mitch and Charlotte and the clinking of forks on plates.

“Harry!” She called softly. When my eyebrows furrowed she rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

“I don’t get it.” Forking another bite of vegetables into my mouth, I watched her fight for the right words to say. Her lips finally settling on the soft smile I knew very well.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. I know that look. Better than anyone. Thats how I look at Mitch.” She playfully nudged my shoulder. Did she believe that I held any romantic feelings for Harry? I couldn’t, it was impossible. Right?

His rude remarks and his mean demeanor. Sure, at one point my heart beat for the brunette with an infectious smile and shiny green eyes, but now it was a memory of the past. Another pretty face who had thrown away all of his charm and care and exchanged with unwavering cruelty.

“Oh, no. Sarah, I don’t think about him that way.” I tried to wave her off, trying to sound the least amount disgusted by her assumption. I couldn’t help but wonder why she thought that.

“I don’t believe you.” She sounded smug, crossing her hands on my thigh and giggling. “You don’t have to. I believe myself.” Brushing her off, I take another bite of any remaining scraps on my plate. Trying to avoid conversation.

“Come on, you seriously don’t see it?” She sounded exasperated now, even more so when I nodded carelessly. She was getting tired of my avoidance to the conversation, my disinterest in her false discovery. Still, the longer she pushed, the more I felt the heat rush to my face. The more my cheeks burned and my skin tingled.

“I’m serious, Sarah. I don’t look at him in anyway. He’s just my roommate. Nothing more, nothing less.” I lean back, volume brought down to a mere whisper with the dying laugher at the other end of the table.

“Well, he’s your friend at least, right?” The lump in my throat was unswallowable. With the growing tightness in my throat and the clamminess of my palms. I wanted nothing more than to slip away and pretend this never happened. So, I bite my tongue and nod, eyes flickering to Sarah while I do so. I pray that she doesn’t see the tears welling in the corners and how glossy they’ve gotten in such a short period of time.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend.” The lie stings, burning as it comes out. Partially because I hate lying to my dear Sarah, but mainly because at some point it was the truth.

Harry was my everything at one point in my life. He might as well have hung the damn moon and stars. I thought the world of him, wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around mine all the damn time. And it killed me that we’d gotten so far away from that idea that I had to lie about even being acquainted with him.

“Word of advice.” She started, eyeing Harry carefully. My eyes remained glued to the table, fork wobbling between my pointer finger and my thumb. “Best friends don’t look at each other that way.” And when she finished what she wanted to say, I swear my heart just about stopped. All color draining from my face and my eyes rapidly blinking away the tears by now.

Setting my fork down, I ignore her playful smile and the nudge of her shoulder into mine. I look for another face to converse with, to make me begin to forget everything I was trying so desperately to escape. When I search the table, it seems like each person has found themselves in deep conversation with the other. All but one.

And his green eyes capture mine in a way I haven’t known in so long. I’d forgotten what it was like to be the center of his gaze. How thrilling it was. With my eyes, glossed over and heart beating through my chest, it seemed impossible for me to ever consider looking away. His chocolate brown curls and sweet pink lips in a gentle smile. It was consuming and alluring. Irresistible even.

A face that once disgusted me, shattered my heart, angered me and knocked me down with no air left to breathe seemed not all that frightening anymore. And the warmth that spread in my chest scared me more than anything.

I begin to realize, maybe Sarah was right. Maybe that was why I hated him so much. I didn’t hate Harry Styles. And thats why it hurt just that much more. I didn’t hate him at all, in fact. No, rather my poor heart couldn’t handle the heartbreak and deflected in the most malicious way possible. I missed my best friend.

“Y/n.” Sarahs voice pulls me from my haze, and my eyes are flickering over to hers quickly. Lips still parted and eyes still wide.

“You’re crying.” I hadn’t felt the salty heat dripping down my cheeks until she announced it. My skin too numb from embarrassment to even understand what was happening.

My tongue is tied, and my throat is killing me. I feel like I might vomit if I stay here any longer. I can’t be here any longer, I can’t do it. Not when I’ve just realized what I did. I feel what I felt all those months ago when Harry told me to stop crying. When he shut me out for good and became bitter. I feel all air leave my lungs and my knees wobbling. I am going to collapse.

“I just need air.” I say all too loudly, pushing out the chair clumsily and stepping back. The loud scratch of the wooden legs of the wooden floors turns heads and my heavy breathing tells me to get the hell out.

I pardon myself after that, waving off any concern from Sarah, and making sure nobody else saw my escape. Everyone’s still deep into conversation when I turn the corner. All but Sarah and Harry. But neither of them make a move to reach me. I let myself collapse on my bed, mascara running down my white sheets and back aching from how stiff I became at that table. I silently pray that I’ll sleep through the rest of winter.

When the dinner got cold and we’d all run out of things to say, we all look around and silently agree to part ways. It was nice to have some company, I enjoyed being around these people so much. My heart should have been full, yet it felt heavy and empty all at the same time. Littered with a guilt I wasn’t even sure was mine.

I’d seen the way she looked at me. Really looked at me. Glossed over eyes and a quivering lip. She was red with the rush of adrenaline in her blood. Anyone could see how quickly she began to breathe. It was like she was stuck, consumed by something so strong that it left her powerless, weak, crumbling quickly under an undetermined pressure. She started to cry, biting back a sob by biting harshly into her bottom lip, eyes shaking while she searched my face. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Who had said what, and how I could help her.

I wanted to yell at whoever hurt her this bad. And the feeling of that in itself was unsettling. How my heart still longed to comfort, protect the heart of the girl who once shattered my own with her own words. More than that, I wanted to scream when nobody followed her when she ran. How nobody cared nearly enough about why she was so upset.

I couldn’t understand why I was so invested in her. Someone I was sworn to hate. Someone I had teased and fought for months and let hurt me constantly in retaliation.

But then again, we were no better than one another. We never were. Always saying too little and not opening up quite enough. Creating issues instead of solving problems. We were explosive, nobody could hurt me quite like she could and yet, I felt horrible that she was so upset.

Like the day I’d found her pacing restlessly across the floor. Skin blotchy and eyes puffy with tears. Throat sore with the violent sobs ripping through them. I’d wanted to hold her then too, but I was too bitter to do anything but tell her to quiet down. I felt the same guilt in my bones. And I make the same mistakes I made the first time. I watch her break down and sit with the uneasiness of it all.

Mitch lays a hand over my shoulder, his other arm wrapped around Sarah as he leads her through the door. His eyes look sad and tired. But his smile is genuine and filled with concern.

“Check on Y/n for us okay? Sarah thought it would be best to leave her be for now.” His hand left my shoulder and the door shut quickly after. Leaving me with the unbearable silence and loneliness I felt so frequently nowadays. It breaks down my walls and scares the shit out of me.

Maybe thats why I make my way to the kitchen, shuffling slowly along the floors and leaning slowly over the makeshift tables. A bottle of rouge in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. I stuff them in my pocket and hold the bottle close to my side.

I’m slow, delaying the inevitable question. When I knock on the door, it’s quiet. Almost like I’m hoping that if it’s soft enough, she won’t hear and I can pretend she was ignoring me. But, she does hear me, and she calls out a raspy, muffled welcome, signaling for whoever was hidden behind the door to come through and take in her puffy eyes and wet cheeks.

My throat tightens when I smell her perfume. Something that I would have drowned in not so long ago. She has clothes thrown on a chair in the corner, the same one I sat in so many months ago. I’m tempted to push them off and just sit in the silence with her like we once enjoyed doing.

Her head is in her pillow and her arms are underneath her. She is unaware of who she has let in, but her silence and unmoving body tells me she’s lost all ability to care. I want to leave. I want to turn around and convince myself it was all a mistake. I’d checked on her and she was still alive and well. I’d done my part and I could go on guilt free and forget about how crushed she’d looked just hours before.

When I begin to turn on my heels and pray for this day to be over, I see something unforgettable. A small Polaroid from last year. Just weeks after she’d moved in and charmed me with her beauty and whit. She’s sat with her legs over my lap and my arms around her body. We couldn’t be any happier, and the memory makes my chest sting.

She still cared enough to keep up the old memories of us, even after all the fights and mean glares. Why did she have to keep the damn photo up?

Guilt consumes me once again, and I am faced with the sad woman in front of me, still in the same place as before and just as sad as before. My feet betray my mind, and soon I am stood beside her bedside table with a bottle of wine dangling between my pointer finger and my middle finger.

The glass knocks against her shoulder in a silent invitation. My eyes wordlessly asking her to follow. Her eyes are red, and her lips still shake. She looks completely torn apart, desperate and distraught. Disheveled even. But for some reason in my blurry head, all I can think about is how absolutely beautiful she is in the pale moonlight.

“Come on.” I ask her softly, offering her my hand. When she takes it, she’s nodding already. Trusting a man who deserves no second chances, no trust whatsoever for his cruelty and his inability to communicate. But she follows regardless.

I can’t help but realize how having her so close feels good.

He lights the cigarette for me and watches as I let it burn. My lips twitch as they wrap around the end, tasting the bitterness of its contents and the dry paper.

“How did we end up here?” I ask him, looking over the horizon. The waves are calming over here. They almost silence the ringing in my ears, despite the distance between where we sit, feet dangling over the empty pool edge and the large grass behind it.

He shrugs, snagging the cigarette from my hand delicately and taking a long drag from its end. We swap, my hands wrap around the neck of the wine bottle. It’s tinted green and nearly full.

“Unlucky people, I guess.” He looks at his feet. They dangle in the pool beside mine. You can see just how close we are in the turquoise tint. How the lights make us look less vibrant.

“I wouldn’t consider us unlucky.” I look at the sky, and I can feel his eyes on my face. It makes me swallow, how intense his gaze is. It almost makes it feel that much more real.

“Why’s that?” He asks, twisting the bud out on the cement. It stains the freshly cleaned grey stone an ashy black, but I bite my tongue.

“We had each other. Maybe we aren’t the best people, maybe we’re cruel, but I’d rather argue than live in solitude, right? Company can’t be bought. Even the most painful of it. That’s something real. Something without a price. And we’ve got it.” And it’s true. We fight and we throw shit. We stain the walls and rip the curtains. We start fires and try to blame the other. We make a mess and make amends. But a house isn’t a home without someone to share it with. And at least if we had to suffer to get there, we got it.

“Thats some of your poet shit.” He laughs sadly into the silence, looking at his feet. I laugh along, though I can tell he was only half joking. Then, I let the silence wash back over us. Forgetting how we almost had a full conversation.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I’m so mean.” He says sincerely. It’s sudden too. I can tell from the rawness in his voice. How his eyes tear up and his lips quiver. His voice cracks. Our feet hang off the edge of the backyard. It’s a quiet life. Even now. With our fights and all the fraud. But it’s never a lonely life, and we only have each other to thank for it.

I want to tell him I know, and I’m so sure of it. I’ve seen the real him, we might just not mesh together. But we once had, and that fact alone holds me back. He takes the lack of response and an opportunity to excuse himself. Pulling his body up by the arms and grunting through the sliding back door. I sit alone in the backyard for hours, body curling up into itself and layers of clothing becoming less than enough after some more time.

“I know.” I whisper into the silence. I know he’s not a bad person, I know it so well and I am so certain of it. I knew Harry once. He’s loyal and kind and the smartest man I’d ever met. And I miss knowing him like that so much.

I thought for a second tonight, I’d gotten part of him back. And maybe I had, but he left so soon I couldn’t really tell all that well. He’s left me back in the silence, wondering what happened to us, and what will happen to us. Why he came to get me, and why he even bothered to open up to me. But he never gives me the time to properly ask, even if I planned to.

I ring in the New Year alone.

The next morning he’s gone. Back to New York for his business in the big city and I am left to sit and think about what was said. A half empty bottle of wine stained with my red lipstick and glitter on the floor from old party poppers Charlotte and Elin had made sure to use before making their exit. I repeat his words.

He’s not a bad person, so why is he so mean? It’s best left unknown. Because if theres one thing I fear more than anything, it’s the realization of rejection.

Even from a man I hate so entirely, it consumes me. That I could not stand to be faced with the fact that Harry and I do not get along simply because we do not work and not because of some other underlying reason.

After all, we had it all. Gave each other everything the other had wanted. Food, shelter, company. There was really so explanation for the bitterness between us.

After all, all this time, despite his anger and hatred, he never left me to the wolves. And despite my heartbreak and sadness, I never left him with an empty home.

A wise man once said to never bite the hand that feeds it. Yet, here we are. Ripping skin from bone until we are left with nothing. We are the ungrateful, the selfish, the cruel. And we both believe that we are in the right.

I am so scared of rejection from this man who I claim to hate because he is the hand that feeds me and I am the hand to him.

We aren’t bad people, so why are we so mean? We recognize all we have to be grateful for, so why do we bite the hand that feeds us?

I guess the vulnerability of it all must have scared us. And while facing the storm, we did what all people do. We let fear consume us and we bite.

Somehow, through all of this. The realizations and the tears and wine and dusty ashes, I love him. Even with my teeth sinking into his skin and his own in mine, drawing blood, I love him. I love Harry Styles. He is my best friend and I am his. That is why I am scared and that is why it hurts so bad. Not because I simply missed him, but rather because my heart was devoted to a man who did not want it.

My fingers fumble over the pad on the phone. I type up his phone number by heart and let it ring. He answers quickly, still waiting for his plane at the airport.

“Y/n?” I can hear the bustling crowds around him and the loud engines taking off from other terminals. I imagine he is plugging one of his ears and mentally cursing the noise for making it so hard to hear.

“Come home.” My breathing is unstable, and my hands run through my hair so much I create new tangles by my neck.

“What? No, Y/n, I have to go. People are expecting me.” He starts to explain how important this is for his business. How it would be so much simpler to be there rather than over a computer screen.

“Fuck them, who cares! Harry, I need you, and I want you, please just listen to me for once. Don’t scoff, or…or roll your eyes or leave! Listen to me this once and if it’s not worth it to you, I promise you’ll never have to listen to me again. Please, it’s important.” I ramble, endless pleas met with silence. I can feel the rejection coming, I can hear the way he chokes on a breath, debating what I said.

“Okay.” The phone goes dead with his promise to come home. With the continuous beeps, I slowly come to terms with what I’d just done. But I do not feel panicked, or scared. I feel lighter with the fact that I am about to tell the moody boy something I wished I told him a long time ago.

The door opens with a creak, keys jingling in his large palms. I’d spent the morning pacing the kitchen. Leaving a trail of confetti behind in my wake. I hadn’t cared enough to clean with my endless thoughts and extreme amounts of adrenaline.

“Y/n?” His voice was unsure when it rang out. As if he didn’t know what to expect. The door shut behind him not long before I came rushing around the corner, fingernails bitten to the skin and hangnails bleeding profusely.

“God, Y/n what the hell…” Taking my hands into his, he examined the redness of my irritated skin stained further with dry blood.

“I know.” I looked at him, and he looked back at me like I was crazy.

“What?” His thumbs bent over the backs of my palms, holding me in front of him.

“I know.” I breathed out again, looking at him with such sincerity, praying for him to understand. “You’re not a bad person, and I know it because I know you. Because we fight and we tease and we scream and cry. But I know you because once we didn’t do all of that. And I needed you to know that because it wasn’t fair of me to make you believe that to be true after everything you’ve done for me.” My voice shook with how vulnerable I felt myself becoming. Harry’s hands only tightened the further I explained.

“But what about all I’ve done to you. Y/n, I’ve been awful to you and I never even told you why.” He tried to argue. I shook my head, biting my lips.

“I haven’t been much better.” I smiled sadly. He shook his head back.

“No.”

“Yes.” I blinked hard, pushing back the tears that formed watching his own gather by his waterline.

“No, Y/n, I’ve been horrible. I’ve been mean.” He tried to push away everything I was trying to ignore.

“And so have I.” I tried harder to make him understand.

“But you only did it because I had. And for what?” He finally spoke, voice raised with so much desperation behind it, I froze under his touch.

“Because I loved you so much it drove me fucking insane? Because I still love you and I’m afraid if I can’t get you to hate me I’ll never be able to stop.” He was crying now, pleading with me to make me see his side of things. All I could do was shake my head.

“Harry I could never hate you.”

“But you could never love me.” He argued.

“Thats not true, Harry tell me you know that it couldn’t be true.” I rip my hands from his grip to rest them on his cheeks. I try to wipe away his tears, but his hands cover my wrists and pull them back down.

“How could I? You said it yourself. All those months ago, I told you. I held you close and I told you I loved you. You told me I was your best friend. You couldn’t even pretend!” Neither of us could tell if he was angry or just sad. Maybe both, but no amount of denial would calm him down.

“I didn’t have to, I still don’t have to pretend! Harry, I only said that because I was so fucking scared. Scared of us, of me, of you. Of losing you if it didn’t work. And I lost you anyways, I would’ve just said it if I knew I’d lose you like this.” Our chests bumped and his fingers slipped between mine.

“Y/n.” He whispered into the silence, over our heavy breathing and salty tears.

“I love you, and I miss you.” He didn’t say anything. I could feel him slipping away as soon as his response never came. Not a single word left to say between us. Not a single amount of energy left to fight.

And then he was kissing me. Hard and sweet. Like I was everything he’d ever wanted and more. Like he was hungry, needing more and more of something he had always wanted but could never have. And at the same time, it was soft and tender. Like he never wanted it to end. My back arched within the grip of his wandering hands and my fingers tangling in his curls. I swore I would never let him go.

But it was a swear I couldn’t keep, because air dwindled quickly and spit strung between our lips. Something I would usually gag at, but didn’t mind at the moment. His forehead against mine and arms gripping the fabric by my hips so tight if I moved he could have ripped it.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized in between his heaving breaths.

“Me too.” Looking at him, I could see the red staining his lips from the makeup I’d slept in. It made me laugh, which in result made him smile.

“What? What!” He laughed along cluelessly, letting me back away for a moment.

“You have something-“ I pointed again his mouth and smiled.

“Oh do I? Do I?” He kissed my cheek, smearing the remnants of our kiss across my cheek. “Still there?” He asked with a sly grin. Like he knew he was winning.

So I kissed him hard again, smearing red around his skin and his pink lips with so much love, there was no denying my feelings anymore. There was no hate left to give.

“Yeah, you do.” It was yet another fight, but not one I minded.

After all, thats what we did for so long, it was what we were good at. The teasing and the fighting. Only now it wasn’t bitter, it was playful. And we didn’t coexist with the sole purpose of it.

Because now I was his and he was mine. And this knowledge answered all my questions, all my doubts I’d had before about our relationship and our shared insecurities that led us down this scaring path.

Harry was my best friend, and I was his. And there was no love greater than that.