#on the show with the second worst filters

[booasaur]

See (2019) - Haniwa and Wren » Kisses

Bonus:

[inkerii]

y'know I really wish people would start tagging negativity with the proper tags in the djats side of tumblr. people are complaining about how the show did this and that but they never add tags to be blocked or filtered. I've seen 5 different posts about negativity about a ship (mostly in regards to the show adaptation but some about the book) thats tagged just with the ship tag and without any sort of anti- something.

Y'know what, I watched the show and I bought the book, but the way people are going about criticizing the show without the proper tags is making me VERY annoyed. I dont really feel like picking up the book now, if it means I'm gonna end up like that :/

[atopvisenyashill]

Is Lyanna really as terrible as some people portray her as?

no, not even a little bit.

the absolute most important thing about lyanna is that when she dies she is only 16. i am someone who works with kids - i work in a library so i spend most of my days cleaning up after tweens and asking teenagers to please stop doing dumb shit- and the first thing anyone who has ever worked with kids and especially teenagers is that they may look like adults but they are NOT. they don’t understand boundaries, they have next to zero impulse control, and every bad thing that happens feels like the worst thing ever because it very likely IS the worst thing they’ve ever experienced bc they have not been alive that long!

and this goes for every single teen & tween character in this series, not just lyanna! shit, i am someone who feels an immense amount of sympathy for joffrey! on one side he’s got his mother telling him he can do anything he wants with no repercussions and on the other he’s got his father hitting him so hard that stannis thought joffrey was going to die. and then he is given unchecked power and told not to abuse it! EYE cannot even guarantee that i wouldn’t use unchecked power to do shady shit and i am a fully grown adult, not a traumatized, irrationally, and deeply vindictive 13 year old boy.

but honestly the most important thing about lyanna is that we have ZERO CONTEXT for what happens between her and Rhaegar. What we have is

Ned’s sparse & guilt ridden thoughts about Lyanna and one (1) comment about Rhaegar

Robert’s angry, entitled, and grief ridden outbursts about Lyanna and Rhaegar

Barristan’s incredibly romanticized, guilt & grief ridden take on their relationship

Meera’s second hand account of Lyanna, told to her by a father who is likely just as guilt & grief ridden as the others, who likely has his own view of Lyanna

What’s important to note is that our view of her is heavily filtered through the eyes of the men that knew her. Robert loves an idealized version of her that never existed. Barristan never actually knew her. Ned is not only viewing her under 200 layers of guilt and grief, but very obviously does not understand his sister, or why she made the choices she did, and struggles constantly with knowing that he will never know her the way he wishes he could, the way he thought he did. Given the way Meera describes Lyanna, I actually think Howland is our most accurate look at her but even that is buried behind years of grief & a fair amount of hero worship and affection (“that’s my fathers man you’re kicking howled the she-wolf” is a line that makes me WEEP for this exact reason; Howland sees Lyanna as his hero above all else!).

All of that to say - we don't even know what Lyanna did that was so terrible! Even if she was a grown woman capable of making rational decisions, we have no idea what her decisions were. She could have been lied to, misled, kidnapped, threatened, just as surely as she could have walked into the situation with open eyes. Even in the show, with a slightly aged up Lyanna - we get, what, just Sam's opinion on Rhaegar and Lyanna being in love because they got hitched? Completely ignoring the fact that we had several women in this series get married not because they were in love or willing but because someone more powerful decided on it and that was that, so there's still no evidence that Lyanna had enough information about the situation to make any sort of informed, consensual decision.

so no, i do not hold lyanna responsible for anything at all that happened regardless of how it happened because she was not mentally mature enough to understand what the hell was going on. a 15 year old is just not mature enough to think “if i run off with this married man, it’s going to cause a cascade of political issues that could have disastrous consequences.” what she’s probably thinking is “this man says he can help me and i am fucking miserable and no one else will listen.” it’s why we don’t throw 15 year olds who run away to meet up with old dudes they met online in jail when they’re caught (or theoretically why we don’t punish them at any rate). There is one person and one person only who is responsible for the massive fuck up that is the Elia-Rhaenys-Aegon-Lyanna-Jon mess and that is RHAEGAR, the person with the most amount of power who used it in the dumbest way imaginable and got himself, most of his heirs, his wife, and his teenaged mistress killed. The only other people responsible are the Kingsguard who kept Lyanna under lock and key while she lay dying and pleading for her brother to come save her.

[harringtown]

wrap me up in all your—

still not over that obscure friends to lovers prompt list so I did number 30 w Eddie!!!!

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: everyone forgets Eddie’s birthday except the reader (aka a cupcake, a joint, a gift, and a confession or two)

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cursing and weed/smoking mention

-

The trailer park is quiet. The autumn chill has settled over town like a blanket, unearthing winter jackets and beanies from closets and marking every breath with a plume of white air.

Eddie sits beside you on his front porch, and though the light swinging overhead flickers every few seconds, and the wooden stairs are halfway to rotted, it’s his favorite place in the world.

Anywhere that has you in it is his favorite place in the world.

He’d like to blame that sappy sentiment on the joint you surprised him with an hour ago and have been passing back and forth, but if he’s honest, Eddie feels that way sober.

You make him feel and think all that sappy shit he was sure only existed in movies.

You showed up, with a dorky birthday hat and a joint sticking out of a cupcake, and Eddie instantly felt high.  And so, even though his day started at crappy and only got worse from there, it’s looking to have a decent ending.

As far as birthdays go, this certainly isn’t the worst. It’s almost better that everyone forgot. No last-minute, hasty gifts or the off-key singing of some waitress and his uncle.

It doesn’t even matter that everyone else forgot. Because you didn’t.

“I got you a present,” you say eventually, jabbing out the last burning embers of the roach and tossing the filter into the tiny pile at the bottom of the steps. Other filters from other nights smoking on this porch, the best of them with you.

“I thought we just smoked the present,” Eddie says.

You snort a laugh and bump Eddie’s shoulder with your own.

“No, that was the candle,” you say. “It would have been better if you rolled it. You’ve got magic hands.” You lift your arms and do jazz hands, making Eddie laugh, and then cough, which makes you laugh, too. Then you’re just two high idiots giggling on a crumbling porch, but Eddie is happier than he has been in a long time.

“Not everyone has the magic touch,” Eddie says. He raises his own hands, and doesn’t miss the way your gaze falls and lingers on each finger, each ring and crooked knuckle and calloused fingertip. Eddie drops his hands. “So. What’s this present you speak of? It better be damn good, after all you’ve hyped it up.”

“I did no hyping,” you accuse. You tear your gaze from Eddie’s and drop it to your lap, where you’re worrying the hem of your hoodie between your fingers. “And it probably isn’t that good���”

Eddie blames the weed on his sudden confidence. He takes your chin in one hand, forcing you to look at him, and he doesn’t realize how close you are on the porch until he almost smashes your nose with his own.

“Whatever it is, sweetheart,” he says, gentler than he intends, “I’m sure I’ll love it.” Your eyes dip, dip to his mouth, and now Eddie is looking at your lips, and he can’t stop.

He clears his throat and sits back. “You’ve never gone wrong before. Christmas ‘82?” He shrugs his shoulders and flashes you a lopsided grin. “Alright, yeah, you kind of screwed future you, there. How the hell do you follow thatup?”

You roll your eyes, but Eddie can tell you’re pleased. He’s known you so long that nonactions are actions, too.

“You and that damn guitar,” you say.

“What can I say? You did good, kid,” Eddie says. He bumps your shoulder again. “C’mon. Quit stalling. Let’s see it.”

You scrunch your nose. “Technically, there’s not really anything to see. I mean, I have a piece of paper, like a written agreement, but—”

“Earth to y/n,” Eddie says in a singsongy voice, though honestly, he’d be content to watch you talk about nothing for hours.

You nod a few times. Clear your throat. Don’t look at him as you say, “I kind of… booked you a gig.”

And Eddie’s dry mouth becomes the Sahara desert.

“You—what?”

“And I don’t know if I’d really call it a gig. More of an… audition? That fancy new club, The Tunnel, is looking for a local band to play Friday nights, and they want something different, so I played them one of your tapes. The manager liked it. He said if you do well at the show in a few weeks, you could be in there every friday night—”

“Are you serious?” Eddie asks.

You stop. Meet his eyes. “Of course I’m serious.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie pushes off the porch steps, onto the dirt below, and shakes his head. “Holy shit.” He wraps his arms around his torso and turns to you, shaking his head again. “Are you serious?”

You laugh, and say, “For the second time, yeah, I’m serious.” You swipe at your nose and sniffle. “Not that your usual joint isn’t great, but I figured, maybe you and the guys wanted to change it up a bit¸—”

And Eddie can’t hold back anymore. He rushes you, throwing his arms around your waist, knees digging into the step below you, burying his face in your neck.

You laugh again, and hug him back, and when you dip your face against his, your cool lips graze his temples. His stomach lurches, and his pulse sings, and yeah, he’s definitely high, but it’s most certainly not all from the weed.

All his reservations fall away. Fall apart. Never fucking existed at all, and he’s just been kiding himself.

Eddie pulls back to look at you.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he says. “I love you.”

You let out a little laugh. “I love you, too, dude.”

He shakes his head. Peels himself away from you and drops onto the step beside you. “No. I mean, I love you. I’m in love with you. And I have been since we were sixteen. I was doing a pretty good job of not doing anything about it, trying to maintain the friendship and all that, but then you show up here, and you tell me you booked my band a gig—”

“Technically not a gig!”

“—a gig,” Eddie says. “And suddenly, I don’t give a shit about maintaining anything. So, thanks for that. And I love you. I really fucking love you. Sorry if that screws things up.”

For a long second, you just look at him, and Eddie thinks he could die right there on that porch—which is ironic, considering he kind of almost did, if the grass near this porch in a parallel universe counts.

“Do you have any idea,” you ask, “how long I’ve been waiting for you to admit that?”

Eddie jerks back. “What are you—you knew?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and look away, a sheepish smile on your face.

“I mean, of course I knew,” you say. “I’ve known you since we were ten. I know you. But time went on, and you still never said anything, and I wasn’t sure if I was wrong, or if you just had no goddamn clue how you felt, and then—“

“And how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

Your smile shifts. It shines like a thousand stars, brighter than anything in the night sky.

“I really fucking love you too,” you say. And then you kiss him, and you taste like frosting and weed and a thousand future kisses.

Eddie ends it sooner than he’d like—if he doesn’t, he’ll do something non-gentlemanly things on his porch, and he’s really trying to be a gentleman—and you drop your head onto his shoulder. You lace your fingers through his, fiddling with his rings with your free hand.

Sometime later, you lift your head, and say, “You never told me your wish.”

The cupcake with the joint. You instructed him to make a birthday wish on the first hit.

Eddie averts his gaze, swiping the hair from his eyes.

“My wish?” He shrugs. Meets your eyes. “You know the rules. Secret.” He draws his fingers across his lips and mimics throwing away a key.

You roll your eyes. “Humor me.”

Eddie inclines his head and considers a moment.

“You really want to know?”

“I want to know everything in that head,” you say, lifting two fingers to his temples.

Eddie knows he’s smiling like a dork, but he doesn’t care.

“It was you,” he says. “It’s always you.”

You press your lips together, but a smile tugs them up. You wind your arms around his neck and dip your forehead against him.

“Well,” you say softly. “You’ve got me. Time to find a new wish.”

“I’ll figure it out later,” he says. “Now, I just really want to kiss you again. You cool with that?”

You laugh, and say, “Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

Then you kiss him again.

And Eddie thinks this might be the best birthday he’s ever had.

-

taglist (join here!): @milkiane​ @robiin-buckley​ @copycatkillerfics​  @robinbuckleyssgf​ @isshecrazyorissheclever

[dioriya]

late night disaster, hitoshi shinsou.

1.03k. fluff. more sappiness. secret relationship things. denki being a gossip. you know.

a gentle buzz against his arm stirs him from sweet dreams and an even sweeter state of slumber. soft sceneries of gentle hands and picnics in the grass evaporate into thin air as the buzzing becomes persistent, brows furrowing above a dark violet gaze.

patting around the sheets for his phone, he squints at the offendingly bright screen for a moment to let his eyes adjust, wondering who the hell would be so cruel to bother him at…

squinting harder at his screen, he frowns once he checks the time. 2:06 AM blares back at him almost mockingly. christ.

lingering on his wallpaper for a bit—matching ones, something he’d openly say is cheesy but secretly smile at when he’s sure no one’s looking—he unlocks his phone singlehanded and scrolls until he finds who the hell decided to bother him. unopened messages from ‘annoying people’ (monoma, countless 3-B group chats, and people who wanted his number to get closer to others once he’d made the switch to class A) and other people he ‘somewhat tolerated’ (kaminari, the band gc, and so on) illuminate his features until he catches a notification pop up from an active chat.

against his better judgment, he opens it. and immediately regrets it.

kaminari’s excited texting alerts the entire chat of his presence, and soon enough, half of his classmates bombard him with prying questions and sly remarks (and the occasional keyboard smash, but that didn’t count).

hitoshi shifts slightly and exhales, briefly closing his eyes for a moment. less than ten seconds in the chat and he’s already exhausted.

‘soooo,’ kaminari types for a while, gaining his attention once more. ‘i saw two people sneak off to a certain someone’s dorm earlier…’

his heart slowly begins to hammer in his chest as the chat explodes, too many texts for him to account for filtering in before he can register any of them. worst of all, a weight on top of him begins to stir, and hitoshi can officially say his soul has left this plane of existence.

he watches, silent as you lift your head up to bear your surroundings with half lidded eyes, and wills his heart to kindly shut the fuck up. he’s almost certain you can even hear it, gaze knowing when it lands on him and causes a lazy smile to spread across your lips.

“hi, you,” your voice filters out to a tired sigh, sitting up on your knees to stretch your arms above your head, and it’s enough to almost make him forget about the dm disaster occurring in real time.

almost.

“we have a problem,” he says in greeting, and only offers his screen to show when your brows furrow in response. slowly, your eyes widen, and you slump against his shoulder with a quiet groan.

“curse you, kami. he’s so nosy.” your words are muffled into his hair and it tickles against his neck just barely. he makes no effort to move. “you should really do something about that.”

“me?” hitoshi pulls back incredulously, and narrows his eyes at the grin spreading across your lips again. “i’m the one who told you i swore i heard something back there earlier!”

“that could have been anything! everyone knows ua’s like, haunted. past mistakes and ghosts of students aizawa’s expelled.”

he snorts despite himself, and refuses to psychically react to the way you light up at the sound of his laugh. annoying, honestly, how you managed to be so—

a faint ding! breaks his mental stupor, glancing down briefly at his own screen while you pat around for yours. a few of his classmates are still pressing the blond for answers, but surprisingly, he hasn’t relented.

‘it’s totally not my place to say,’ kami wrote. ‘but just know that when everyone eventually finds out, i told you so!’

hitoshi pleasantly resists the urge to bury himself fifty feet below ground level.

“should we tell them?”

he looks up when your voice turns sheepish, teeth sinking into your lower lip nervously. “i mean—unless you really don’t want to. kami probably already knows, and it won’t be long until kirishima knows, and then he’ll probably tell mina, and then mina will tell everyone—”

your hands reach for his and squeeze, strangely reminiscent of the dream he’d been having not too long ago. comforting, reassuring. it makes him sick to his stomach in a completely positive and normal way.

“i just don’t want you to be, y’know. rushed into things. i know you like your privacy, so if this is too much, tell me.”

you smile faintly, epitome of all things good in the wretched and deceiving world, and his heart falls to his knees in defeat. or… whatever.

“we’ll tell everyone tomorrow,” he agrees slowly, and can’t help the small smile that spreads across his lips as well. “during homeroom. hopefully before aizawa comes to class.”

“yeah…”

you both wince at the memory of a previous confession falling flat just as your homeroom teacher crawled into the classroom in a neon pink sleeping bag, scaring the shit out kaminari and effectively blasting out the lights on the entire floor.

shaking his head, he puts his phone on do not disturb and wordlessly beckons you closer, settling into the comfortable position the two of you had donned before and tries to relax. you melt into his arms almost instantly, but poke his side when you feel him tense.

“don’t think about it too much, okay?” arms wrapped around his middle, you squeeze him tight and the gesture is oddly comforting. “actually—think about it this way: you no longer have to kill anyone with your eyes when they talk to me for longer than socially equired.”

once again, his heart falls to his knees… and dies. he had no idea you’d be watching him the whole time. fucking what—

trying to compose himself and the remaining dregs of his dignity, he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “you’re hallucinating.”

“midoriya told me he felt like someone was watching him, toshi.”

well. it’s not like he’d be wrong.

“go to sleep,” he says instead, and hopes you can’t hear the smile in his voice when you laugh and quietly bid him goodnight.

[etherealising]

chapter seven | they know i believed in us last week

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!pete x fem!reader | male!oc x fem!reader |

summary: carmy struggles to deal with your absence in his life, while you finally learn to live without him.

warning(s): talk about miscarriage (no explicit details) | word miscarriage used once | implied suicidal thoughts | substance abuse | NA | AA | Al-Anon | grief | mention of pregnancy |angst | drama | semi-fluff | language | sad boi carm | baby being mature | woe is me carmy | please let me know if i missed anything |

wc: 7.3k

song rec: i'll still have me - cyn, aquilo

semi-edited/proof-read

“Carm hey, are you listening?” Natalie’s eyes flitted across Carmy’s face, his blank eyes staring directly past her. She took this moment as a chance to take in her younger brother’s ragged appearance, at first glance he looked like he normally did; exhausted. But taking the time to really study him, she knew Carmy was doing worse than he’d ever admit.

His usual textured and fluffy hair was limp against his head, the greasy quality of it proving he needed a wash. The discoloration under his eyes was the worst Nat had seen it, the deep blue-purple bruising a sign that he was getting even less sleep than he usually did. The skin of his lips was dehydrated and bitten to pieces, a tick he had as a child that gradually calmed down as he grew older. And the visible stubble on his chin was enough to know that the absence of your presence in his life was hitting him harder than anyone expected.

Her eyes caught on the chain that was haphazardly peeking out of his shirt, squinting at the newly added pendant hanging from it. Natalie didn’t have to be a genius to know whose initial hung around Carmen’s neck, the chain which was usually safely tucked into his shirt was now blatantly on show for everyone to see. Natalie had noticed it more recently since your and Carmy’s argument, though this was her first time seeing it this close. She would find him just standing in the restaurant, sometimes eyes staring into nothing as he worried the pendant between his fingers, oftentimes raising it to his lips before letting it go completely and wandering to do whatever task needed to be done.

Natalie’s concern was palpable but the discomfort in her abdomen was worse. “Have you tried talking to her?” The shaky breath she let out filtered between the two of them.

Carmen’s eyes finally snapped to hers taking in the uncomfortable expression on her face, “Sug?” He waited for Nat to focus on him. “You good?” The question hung in the air as Natalie tried to even out her breathing.

Using his sister's obvious discomfort to deflect from the conversation she was insistent on having wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he’d rather put his sister’s well-being before being forced to think about how long it had been since he last spoke to you; he last saw you.

Carmy watched as Sug raised a closed hand to her mouth suppressing the urge to gag. “Yeah good, I’m good.” The forced smile on her lips did nothing to fool Carmy, but he wouldn’t force the issue.

“Can you uh, explain to me again how we’re doing, I spaced.” His fingers raised to run through his hair a small grimace painting his face at the grime he could feel left behind on his fingertips.

“Seven weeks out, Carm, and still so much to be done,” An exhausted sigh breathed through Natalie’s lips. The stress opening this restaurant caused felt extremely unnecessary considering her current status.

“No yeah I heard that,” Carmy nodded his head rapidly, Sug’s words slowly coming back to him. He squinted his eyes, hand scratching the grown-out stubble on his chin.  “You uh said something about the DBA getting rejected?”

“About that.” Natalie’s voice trailed off one hand pressing into her abdomen to ease the ache, “The name’s taken.”

Nat watched as Carmy processed the words, her discomfort felt like it was increasing as the seconds passed by.

“Who the fuck could’ve taken the name?” The idea perplexed Carmy. There was no chance another business could have the same name, well there was, it was just slim as hell.

Nat shrugged just as confused as Carmy “It’s been trademarked for years, whoever filed has all legal rights to the name.”

“Fuck me!” The pitch of Carmy’s voice rose along with his irritation.

Natalie’s own mumbled expletive was drowned out by Carmy’s outburst, the nauseating morning sickness she was experiencing came in an extra hard bout today.

“Yo, Sug…Sug. You sure you’re okay?” Carmy’s concern now outweighed his confusion, Nat’s weird behavior this whole morning was beginning to worry him.

“I can do this Carmy right, tell me I can do this.” Natalie’s breathing began to increase as a slight panic flooded through her. Carmy watched her with wide eyes, no idea what she could even be talking about.

“Tell me I can do it, Carm!” The wave of nausea subsided with her yell, Carmy’s hands raised in the air to divert blame.

“Fuck okay! You can do it Sug.”

“I am…completely terrified. And I’m only telling you because..I don’t know. Just-just in case.” Natalie nodded to herself as a way to provide her nerves with courage.

Carmy just stared at Natalie still not following where she was leading this conversation to.

“I really want this to be loving and good and happy,” A smile rose to Nat’s face “I just..I don’t want anyone to know…well besides Baby and now you.”

Carmy’s eyes focused on Sug’s abdomen, the pieces of the puzzle slowly fitting together in his head. The name she spoke felt like it was echoing through his ears.

“Sure” He wasn’t sure how to react to the news, he had always assumed Natalie would be the first of the siblings to start a family. And as the years passed by he knew it was a desire he himself had.

“I really don’t want Richie to know. Because somehow, it feels more in my control when and who knows…” The sound of the wall falling caused Nat to raise her voice as she finished her sentence. “That I’m pregnant.” Her final words were spoken just loud enough to alert the crew to her news.

“I fuckin’ knew it.” The sound of Richie’s shout grated on Nat’s nerves, but the quiet congratulations helped to ease her ire a bit.

Carmy was happy for Sugar, but it felt like it was setback after setback for the restaurant and all the personal issues he was dealing with weren't helping his stress. He felt his shoulders sag a bit mind racing as to how the name could already be trademarked, or who would’ve trademarked it.

His eyes found Richie’s as the man cajoled about how he knew Natalie was pregnant this whole time. Had Richie told someone the name and they took it for themselves? Did Mikey somehow trademark it while on a bender? The thought made Carmy’s head hurt what the fuck even was the point of opening this restaurant if they couldn’t use the name. The name was the epitome of the restaurant.

If you were here Carmy knew you would've given him an analogy for how he was feeling, you would’ve told him he was like Atlas holding up the sky or whatever he did. He shook his head trying to rid himself of thoughts of you, it wasn’t helping him in the least.

As much as he’d rather not converse with Richie, he needed to get to the bottom of this trademark business.

“Yo, Cousin!” The words felt wrong escaping Carmy’s lips the two men avoided each other in the same way you avoided Carmen.

The agitation on Richie’s face was instant, Carmy knew he fucked up with you, but the cold shoulder he was getting from Richie felt unnecessary.

Nat watched as the two men locked eyes, not too keen on playing referee for these two again. She looked in Carmy’s direction as Richie began making his way over, trying to gauge what was going through her little brother's mind.

“Carmen,” Richie nodded in acknowledgment to Carmy. Richie would be lying if he said he wasn’t purposefully using Carmy’s government name to rile him up, he knew how much Carmy hated it when you did it, and since you weren’t here someone had to uphold the tradition.

Carmy felt his eye twitch Richie’s immaturity since the argument with you felt never-ending. “Did Mikey ever trademark the name?”

Richie frowned looking between him and Nat the assumption that he had any goddamn clue laughable “What the fuck did Mikey look like trademarking shit? Wasn’t I just slangin’ crack to keep the lights on?”

Carmy’s eyes shut as Nat let out a quiet gasp, watching as Richie raised his hands in defense. Maybe running a back alley drug ring wasn’t the best for business, but without it, they may not have been in this moment renovating the restaurant.

“Well someone fucking trademarked it, Richie.” The attitude Carmy was catching was wholly unwelcome.

“I don’t like your tone, Carmen,” Richie matched Carmy’s energy giving him what he was getting. “All I’m sayin’ is Mikey didn’t trademark it whoever did might…I dunno hypothetically deserve an apology in return for said documents.”

Carmy was at his wits end with the older man “Oh so you’re the fucking Riddler now.”

“Baby trademarked the name?” Nat’s voice traveled between the trio at the same time as Carmen’s snarky remark. Carmy’s head shot to her, confused as to how she concluded you had anything to do with the conversation at hand.

“Bingo!” Richie’s hands came together in a loud clap Sydney rolled her eyes at the obnoxious man before looking over the various work orders. “She did that shit years ago and gave it to Mikey as a present, he…left it for her when he passed.”

A quiet fell over their small group, each of them taking in the gesture. Richie had only become privy to the present when he went through the office to try and make sense of what the hell Mikey was doing to keep the business up and running. He had knocked a framed picture of your group off the desk cleaning up the mess only to find the folded trademark document in the back of the broken picture frame.

Your name was haphazardly scribbled into the back of it.

Carmen’s chest heaved as he let the news wash over him, it seemed since the two of you had your falling out the universe was continuously pushing him to interact with you. He raised his hand to his face, rubbing it up and down as he added another item to the long list of things going wrong with the restaurant.

In a way, learning that you were responsible for trademarking the name made Carmy’s chest feel warm. It felt like you wanted this for Mikey just as much as he did, the two of you both supporting Mikey in ways the other never knew. It also gave him an excuse to speak with you, not that he needed one. If he was a better man he would’ve already worked up the courage to reach out to you. He could feel a headache coming on the more he thought about trying to fix things with you.

Carmen was sure he’d figure things out soon, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could figure things out with you not by his side. Which he would admit was quite ironic considering all the times he had willingly pushed you away. But being pushed away by you had proven to him just how badly he was screwing things up with you, to hear you be so upset by his actions he basically forced you into confessing your love stung him to his core.

Carmy wasn’t exactly sure what love was supposed to feel like, but he was almost positive it wasn’t this. The ache in his chest from not being around you, looking for you in every crowd he was in. Soaking up any conversation your name was mentioned in. Maybe he did know what love was supposed to feel like, because for all the time he had been in love with you, he had never once felt so completely and utterly broken as he had been since not fighting for your love a year ago like he should have.

“That was Nat,” you looked up as Pete returned to the table, a smile growing on your face at how happy he looked to have been speaking with his wife. “Cat’s out of the bag! Our pregnancy is no longer top secret!”

Pete’s excitement was contagious, your smile growing wider at his pure joy. “Our pregnancy?” You chuckled never having heard anyone refer to it as if the pregnancy was shared.

You watched as Pete sipped the water in front of him, a signature goofy smile back on his face. “Of course! I mean yeah Nat is carrying the baby, but I’m just as pregnant as she is.” You gave Pete a confused look, a laugh bubbling out of you.

“You laugh now Baby, but I’m serious.” Pete paused as the waiter brought out the bread for your table, both of you quickly thanking them. “Nat’s my partner you know? And I’m so grateful for her providing me the opportunity to be a father. Allowing me to build with her, for us to come together and bring a child into this world, it’s a beautiful thing I love her ya know.”

The sheen in Pete’s eyes was enough to make you emotional you didn’t need to hear his explanation to know how much Pete loved Natalie, you could just see it in the way he looked at her, in the way his face would light up when anyone would mention her name or ask about her.

“I’m happy that Nat has someone like you to build a life with.” Both you and Pete shared misty-eyed smiles, chuckles leaving each of you at how emotional the small things made both of you.

“Looks like that dinner you were planning just turned into a full-blown baby shower!” The loud clap Pete’s hands made startled you. “Wow, it really will be a Baby shower!”

You watched as Pete laughed at his own pun, doing your best not to laugh along with him and encourage his bad jokes. The relationship you developed with Pete was a bit weird in the beginning, you weren’t the most open to the idea, and it’s not because you didn’t like Pete, it just felt like you were replacing Mikey.

It took a while before you could look at Pete and realize he wasn’t trying to replace Mikey’s role in your life, and that the drugs and paranoia had driven you to that conclusion. Pete was a great man, standing by Natalie’s side while she fought to keep you alive. Probably being more accepting than someone else may have been when he and Nat decided to help you. Pete and Natalie both put aside their own lives to help you get better, and get back on your feet, and while part of you wished Mikey was around to ground you as well, Pete’s love and kindness didn’t deserve to be taken for granted.

“That dinner was supposed to be a surprise for you too Peter,” you shot him a tiny glare before reaching for some bread. “I just wanted you both to have a nice night off together, no stress.” The reservation had already been made, but thinking about Pete’s words and the excitement when explaining most everyone knew about the pregnancy, maybe it would have been best for an intimate shower for the two soon-to-be parents.

Pete was definitely a family guy and Natalie came from a big family, maybe a shower would be for the best. Surround them with people who loved and supported them and just allow everyone to bask in the happiness the joyous news brought, you were sure everyone could use a break.

“Okay hypothetically say I put together a small shower for the two of you, is that even something Nat would want?” Sure you knew Nat but Pete was her husband and this was their moment, you didn’t want to ambush her with a party she never wanted.

You watched Pete bristle a little, a nervous smile raised to his lips, “I uh I’m not sure if Nat ever told you but she kinda had this…this whole dream about the two of you,” you frowned confused at what Pete was talking about.

“Well not like an unconscious sleeping dream, more like a-an idea?” Pete’s voice rose at the end of his sentence, not sure if the question in his tone was meant for you or him.

“Pete bud you lost me.” You gave him a small nod of encouragement awaiting his response.

“Um so…after your uh…loss,” a sad smile rose to Pete’s lips, you could see the apology in his eyes. “Nat she uh…she confided in me about how she always wanted to be the one to throw you a shower if you ever decided to have children. And if-when we had our own she’d want you to be in charge of hers…if you wanted to not like she would force you.” The nervous huff of laughter from Pete hung in the air for a minute.

The admission perplexed you, Nat had never brought this up to you directly and maybe it was because she felt like she couldn’t. You weren’t the most open when it came to the topic of your miscarriage always avoiding the conversation whenever Nat tried to breach it.

“Baby…you’re the closest thing Natalie has to a sister. I can promise she would be ecstatic no matter what decision you choose.”

You nodded, the motion happened unconsciously as you tried to take in everything Pete had laid on you. Of course, there were things Nat wouldn’t share with you, but while the two of you were like sisters you didn’t expect her to share every little detail with you. As you let Pete’s words digest you couldn’t help the warm feeling beginning to flood through your body, if you were being honest you weren’t sure if it was the best idea to be throwing anyone a baby shower, but you also knew Natalie deserved to be celebrated, not only for the life she and Pete were creating together, but also for all the work she was doing to ensure that The Bear had a fighting chance.

“Okay,” your head continued its up-and-down motion. “Yeah okay let’s do it but I’m going to need your help, Pete.” You watched the smile on his face increase tenfold, your own wide smile spreading your lips due to how contagious Pete’s joy was.

“Anything and I mean anything Baby, I am your guy.” Pete’s giddiness warmed you even more, you didn’t think you had ever been surrounded by anyone with such a positive attitude before. In the beginning, when Natalie and Pete first began dating, his electric personality was a bit much but you found yourself always trying to make Pete feel included, especially with how off-putting the rest of the Berzatto clan could be.

And when you were recovering it was almost like you had to re-acclimate yourself to Pete’s personality. Your recovery was hard, there were some days you weren’t even sure if you wanted to get better or if you wanted oxygen to continue filling your lungs. But Pete was so positive and always looking at life and your situation with a ‘glass half full’ mentality, that his constant belief in you helped to make the hard days easier.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you readied yourself for the question you were about to ask. “Pete, do you think you could give me Carmen’s number?” You tried not to roll your eyes as you saw Pete’s own light up, you were almost positive he would be telling Nat about this topic of conversation. “Before you get any ideas, I just need it to invite him to the shower.” You raised your hands in defense hoping Pete wouldn’t look into this any more than he already was.

“No can do B, the idea train has already left the station.” His fingers drummed on the table with excitement. “But I will do you one better,” you frowned as you watched Pete pick up his phone, fingers skating across the screen before he held it up to show you. A call to Carmen already going through as Pete sent you a thumbs-up.

You looked at the screen eyes wide, the shock temporarily paralyzed for a moment. The quiet sound of the ringing between the two of you brought you back. “Pete! Hang up the phone.” Your voice was terse as you spoke trying not to draw too much attention from other patrons.

Pete laughed, “He never answers my calls anyway.” Pete’s words irritated you, but you were glad to see the call go to voicemail before Pete pressed the end call button and set his phone down.

You let out a surprised laugh, Pete had definitely been too influenced by the Berzattos during his time with Natalie. The little stunt he just pulled was something you knew both Richie and Mikey would do if given the chance.

“Baby?” Your head raised eyes meeting Pete’s, “I know this may sound selfish, but I…I need you to figure out this thing between you and Carmen.” Your eyebrows furrowed the need to defend yourself hitting you full force, you opened your mouth to respond but stopped as Pete raised his hand, a signal to let him continue.

“I know Baby, I know. I’ll be honest with you, as much as I love Nat’s family I think you should’ve given up on Carmen a long time ago.” Your jaw fell slack, and Pete’s eyes widened a bit. “No, no just for your own wellbeing, your peace of mind.” You began nodding as Pete explained himself better. “I just, whatever is going on between you and Carmen, it’s affecting Nat. And she won’t tell you because you deserve to feel how you feel, but with the baby and the restaurant…she doesn’t need to play "Fix it Felix” with you and Carmen right now.”

You let out a small chuckle at Pete’s explanation, over the years he had begun expressing himself to you more. You being the only one on Natalie’s side who actually gave him the time of day and willfully listened to him, helped him to gain more confidence when around the rest of the Berzattos. You reached for your glass of water, taking a long sip before setting it down.

“Thank you, Pete, for being honest,” you sighed, finger playing with the condensation on your cup. “If I’m being honest, it's easy to forget that Nat’s in the middle of everything. She’s so good at pretending it doesn’t affect her.” A rueful smile rose to your lips, as great as a friend as Natalie had been to you through everything, you weren’t sure the same could be said for yourself. “You’re right, Carmen and I are adults, we should be able to figure this out ourselves. I’ll…I’ll call him, figure things out.” You sent Pete a small smile.

Recently it felt like Natalie and Pete nursed you back to health and then for some reason became your surrogate parents. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with leaning on them, the three of you did endure a traumatic experience together so it was understandable. But maybe you had become too comfortable and relied on them too much to ‘fix’ your life. You could understand where Pete was coming from and he had every right to put his wife’s well-being before the feelings of his friends.

You knew Natalie and Pete would be amazing parents and of course, Nat’s fears were valid. But you had seen firsthand just how loving, caring, and kind the couple was, and while that wasn’t all that went into raising a child it was like a part of you just knew that their child would be in great hands.

“Enough about my poor life choices Pete, have you guys thought of any names?” The timing of the question couldn’t have been more perfect, Pete perked up at the question, eyes glazing over with excitement. A waiter stopped by your table to deliver your entrees as Pete began animatedly explaining his and Nat’s process for picking names.

A part of you ached at how happy Pete was, if things were different, maybe in another life you would’ve been able to see that excitement on another man’s face. Maybe the two of you would’ve come up with your own system for picking out names.

You listened as lunch continued, no matter how many times the thought had crossed your mind, you would always be grateful that Natalie had found a partner to love her in the ways she deserved.

 It was silent between you and Cortez as you made your second lap around the block, the church in the distance behind you. Your hands were preoccupied with a warm disposable cup of hot cocoa as Cortez gingerly sipped his choice of tea. This had become the routine for your meetings with your sponsor, the two of you would meet at the bodega a little ways away from the church that housed both AA and NA meetings. Then continue your meeting with a few circles around the block before ending at the church stairs when all was said and done.

The air was tense between the two of you, Cortez hadn’t taken kindly to your decision to skip out on the few check-ins that you had asked for. In the beginning, you were in constant contact with Cortez, feeling the match between the two of you out. As you progressed through recovery and got back into the routine of daily life the daily talks between the two of you began to dwindle as you settled into life as a recovering addict.

But after that initial meeting at The Beef, being in Carmen’s presence again, surrounding yourself with Richie and the life you once knew, the meetings with Cortez picked back up in frequency. And you were doing fine for some time, the man meeting with you when you needed it, always willing to speak with you whenever you asked and it was helpful, god was it helpful. But then you made it to step nine, step eight in the recovery program was its own monster that Cortez helped you through especially when it came to who didn’t need to be on your list.

You made the decision to text Cortez after admitting your faults to Richie. As great as it felt to finally be open with Richie and let him into your life, it also brought with it the urge to use again. Richie had been kind enough to take the bottle of champagne off your hands that night, but the desire to call Fak and ask if Theo had anything he could spare almost won out. But as you scrolled through your contacts the red icon hovering over the voicemail tab brought you back to your senses.

“So your friend Richie knows?” Your eyes shot to Cortez taking in his side profile before focusing back on their attention focused on the steaming paper cup of coffee gripped in their hands.

“Yeah, his daughter kind of spilled the beans.” You nodded playing with the frayed edges of your jeans.

“That’s a bit fucked up don’t cha think?” Cortez’s brows furrowed. “I mean how does his little girl know but he don’t that’s gotta hurt.”

You rolled your eyes, “Aren’t you supposed to like not be judgmental?” Cortez’s laugh felt like it was grating on your ears, as good a sponsor as he was, he had the personality of an annoying older brother you were happy not to have.

“It ain’t even judgment though, it’s an observation.” You didn’t have to be looking at him to know that annoying smirk was on his lips as he shrugged his shoulders.

You stopped as Cortez dropped his now empty cup in a trash bin on the street, “Didn’t know you received your inspector gadget certification.”

“That smart ass mouth is bouta be the reason you out here looking for a new sponsor,” you let out a cackle before taking a much-needed sip of your hot cocoa. “Sound like my daughter with that dumb shit.” If you didn’t know the man who was walking by your side, you would’ve thought he was actually upset, but you could tell by the uptick of his lips he didn’t take anything to heart.

The two of you rounded the corner coming up on the church. You watched as Cortez plopped his long limbs down on one of the steps, opting to sit on the railing. Cortez took out his pack of cigarettes bringing the box to his mouth and removing one before offering the box in your direction. You slipped one out a small laugh escaped you at the irony of everything, how you had once been so against the cancer sticks that those around you would make sure not to smoke around you. And then instead of indulging in a nicotine addiction, you turned to alcohol and prescription pills, the fact that you would smoke a cigarette here and there to appease your urges now felt a bit comical.

You leaned forward allowing Cortez to light your cigarette, “Man ain’t nothin’ like smoking on Big G’s doorstep.” Cortez’s voice filled the silence that had settled over the two of you, you took a drag of the cigarette, a small chuckle escaping you with the smoke.

“I used to hate these fucking things.” The disgust on your face was obvious even as the stick hung from your mouth.

“Why you take one every time I offer 'em’ then?” Cortez switched positions leaning his elbows on the step behind him as he stretched his long limbs out in front of them, offering a wave to the few people entering the church for whatever meeting was scheduled to take place.

You shrugged eyes falling to Cortez’s beat-up boots as you sucked the nicotine deep into your lungs, “They’re the same brand Mikey smoked.”

“Damn ma, that shits kinda sad.” The two of you locked eyes before small laughs left the both of you. You had been around Cortez for so long that you’d picked up on his need to turn most anything into a joke. And while in the beginning, it pissed you off, you realized that’s just who he was and that sometimes being able to laugh in serious moments or at your trauma was helpful.

“Nah seriously though better smokin’ these than messin’ with that shit that hooked you in the first place. Know what I mean?” You nodded, finishing off the cigarette in your hand before taking the second cigarette Cortez offered. You knew how these things went and had spent so much time with the man that you learned to read him. Cortez only ever smoked two cigarettes and offered you two if the conversation was gonna be a rough one.

“Where you at with them apologies?” You sighed letting the man light your cigarette one more time, allowing the fumes to warm your lungs.

You dropped from your seat on the railing, your backside had gone numb. You settled yourself to lean against the railing “I mean I told Richie the truth and there were a lot of apologies in that conversation. But I feel like he deserves a better apology.” You shrugged, your attention dropping to Cortez as he listened.

“Ima be honest wit chu, this might be the hardest part of recovery. Shit I know it was f’me admittin’ to my little girl her father was a fuckin’ junkie. But at the end of the day, you gotta remember this recovery shit is for you. If homeboy loves you like a sister like you say he does, all that should matter to him is that yo annoyin’ ass still here. A’ight, ma?” You listened, nodding along to his words. “All you can do is apologize for the shit you did, you can’t control whether people forgive you or not, and remember ain’t nobody gotta fuck with your apology if they don’t want to.”

You let Cortez’s words settle into you, to anyone else his words may not have seemed genuine but this is just who Cortez was. And you knew no matter how nonchalant he sounded he was speaking every word from his heart.

“You still fuckin with that lil dumbass boy?” The question caused you to choke on the last bit of cocoa in your cup.

“We had a falling out, he’s one of the people I have to apologize to though.” The cigarette between your fingers continued to burn. “There’s a lot I still haven’t told him…the substance abuse, the reasons behind my overdose.” An exhausted sigh pushed its way through your lips. It was like one thing after another when it came to you and Carmy.

“Listen I know we ain’t sposed to have like personal relationships and shit, but lemme know what homeboy looks like I’ll get my goons on em’ for you.” Your head fell back in laughter as Cortez raised his fist to under both of his eyes.

“No goons Cortez, please. Wait, have you ever actually put a hit on somebody before?” You obviously didn’t know Cortez as well as you would have if the two of you were friends. But it wasn’t hard to tell that he would get down if need be.

“Why someone say somethin’?” The two of you shared a laugh, the now more frequent people entering the church signifying that your time together was coming to an end.

“Aight, I gotta head in, get shit set up in there. But ima send you the info for Nar-Anon you give that shit to people who still choose to put up with yo ass. You comin' in?”

You shook your head sending him a small smile, “I came to the morning meetings today.”

You nodded in thanks as Cortez stood up, pushing yourself off the railing. You placed the cigarette between your lips leaving your hands open to do the handshake Cortez insisted you did after each meeting. When he first introduced it you were still getting used to the idea of being a recovering addict and thought he was fucking crazy. But you realized he used it as a way to break the serious desolate feeling that some of these meetings ended on, to help bring some light to what was such a dark reality.

At least that’s how he explained it to you, but you were sure he just liked doing the handshake his daughter helped him come up with.

“Ima see you when I see you ma stay straight.” You chuckled before turning on your heel to head to your parked car. Putting the bud of the cigarette out against the trash bin you passed. It was still early, enough time for you to knock out some baby shower shopping before it got too late.

Carmen stopped in his tracks, eyes finding your figure across the street. You were in front of the church that held the Al-Anon meetings he told you about. Maybe you would be attending the one he was here for, his eyes traveled to the man sitting on the steps you were talking to eyebrows furrowing as he realized the vapors leaving your mouth weren’t from your warm temperature, but instead the stick you had raised to your mouth.

“Baby?” The question left his lips in a quiet whisper, he knew it was you standing across the street but it had been a few weeks since your last interaction he was sure he had imagined you. But he would know you anywhere, by scent alone. He couldn’t help the shock at watching you smoke, something you had been so opposed to since the two of you were children. Even going so far as telling Carmy you couldn’t be friends when he smoked his first cigarette at 15, the stalemate barely lasted a day after you realized how dumb the idea was.

Carmy watched as the two of you stood up, his hopes to see you inside dwindling as he watched the two of you begin to part ways, an intricate handshake taking place before you turned to leave. He watched as your figure disappeared around the corner, a quiet ‘shit’ leaving his lips before he darted across the street trying to catch you before you were gone for good.

“Baby! Hey!” His shouts were useless, you were too far gone to have even heard him. “Fuck!” One hand raised to sit on the bill of his cap, the universe seemed like it was doing everything in its power to keep the two of you apart. Or maybe it was just the way things were meant to be.

Carmy turned to see the man you were with still standing in the same spot you left him, eyes narrowed as he took in Carmy’s figure. The man eyed Carmy for a moment longer, sending a head nod his way before turning and entering the church. Carmy was tempted to follow the man and ask about you, but whatever your relationship with the unknown man was, it was none of Carmy’s business.

He sighed eyes shooting up to the sky before taking a deep breath and making his way inside, not wanting to be late and disturb the Al-Anon meeting before it began. Carmy made his way to the room where the meeting usually took place, eyes landing on the same man from outside once more as he greeted members, the sign near the door he stood by signifying it was an NA meeting. Carmy stopped for a moment, eyes darting between the man and the sign he’d just read.

“You lost kid?” Carmy looked at the man brown furrowed as he shook his head, he sent a tight smile the man's way before walking two doors down for his own meeting. Carmen’s brain felt like it was racing a mile a minute. If you weren’t coming to the Al-Anon meeting, why were you here? And why were you talking with someone who appeared to be leading NA meetings?

The vibrating of his phone caught his attention, the device easily slipped out of his pocket. He felt the air leave his lungs as your name flashed across his screen, he realized just how indecent setting that Polaroid picture of you with his chain on might have been now that he was in public, but it’s not like he ever thought you’d call him.

How’d you even get his number?

“Carmen, hey, we’re about to start your coming?” His head shot up to one of the usual who attended these meetings and would talk to him on occasion.

“Yeah uh, just give me a minute.” Carmy gave a tight smile, eyes flashing back to his phone finger moving to swipe across the screen, the call abruptly ending before he even got the chance to hear your voice. Carmen was sure he had the worst luck in the world, a defeated sigh leaving him, he was almost positive there was no chance you were calling him back.

Quickly putting his phone on Do Not Disturb and in the safety of his jacket pocket, he entered the meeting, as much as he wanted to drop everything and fix things with you. He wasn’t even sure what you had called him for. Carmen also knew it was for the best to attend the meeting,

Carmen was sitting in his car allowing it to warm up as he waited. The skyline began to reflect the sunset, the time on the dashboard letting him know it was around dinner time. He fished his phone out of his pocket mindlessly checking the notifications he’d gotten while in the meeting.

Carmy’s brows furrowed at the flurry of messages he received from a group chat he wasn’t aware he was a part of. He frowned as he opened it, your contact is one of the many in the text chain. The only contact with a photo was yours, making you easily distinguishable, he realized the rest of the people in the chat were the restaurant crew. He scrolled through the messages eyes reading over your message with details about a baby shower, your address included.

Carmy exited out of his messages, unsure of how things were between the two of you. It had been three weeks since the argument and neither of you had tried contacting the other. But here he was with a message from you, and a missed call and he wasn’t sure how to take any of it.

He decided it was a good idea to call you back, and try and feel out the atmosphere between the two of you. His heart felt like it was stuttering in his chest as his finger hovered over his screen; you left him a voicemail. He needed to know what the message said, but a part of him was also worried he might not like what he heard, he had hurt you too many times to count, and if whatever you had to say to him broke him down more than he already was, well then he was sure he deserved it.

Carmen took one last deep breath before clicking on the voicemail and raising the phone to his ear, heart pounding in his chest as he heard the sweet whisper of your voice.

‘Hey Carmen, uh it’s me…Baby. Not sure why I introduced myself. I'm sure you know it’s me.” Carmy let out a watery chuckle at the sound of your voice, even if he hadn't saved your number the delicate timber of your voice would’ve been enough for him.

“Listen uh, I got your number for Pete. I hope you don’t mind, I know you have issues with girls actually having your number…Sorry, that was actually kind of rude. Anyway, I uh…Pete helped put things in perspective for me and I, I think we need to talk Carmen. I’m not sure when or if you even want that, but I think we both deserve a chance to explain our side of things. I um…I also have some things I think you should know. Just, if this is something you’re interested in, you have my number.” Carmen felt his heart rate slow down your words, nothing more than a piece offering.

“I just want to be clear though, um..if I don’t hear back from you, I’m going to take that as a sign. So yeah, call me back or something I guess.” The line finally went silent, your voice no longer caressing Carmy’s ears.

It felt like he was having heart palpitations but he knew it was just his nerves getting the best of him. He pulled the phone away from his ear, the time on his phone reading 5:30 p.m. Carmy quickly opened the group chat scrolling through to find your address and open it up in maps. You lived about 30 minutes from where he was, he was confident he could get there in 20 and spare the 10 minutes at a store near you.

Carmen made his decision as he set his phone down in the cup holder before beginning his journey. The ball was in his court, you had given him an olive branch and it was up to him whether he accepted it or not. He was nervous, maybe showing up at your house to cook you dinner wasn’t his most thought-out plan but he needed you desperately, needed to see you, be in your presence, and know that there was still a chance of something more between the two of you.

The hope Carmy felt when he saw you calling him earlier was now back tenfold: the pendant delicately resting against his chest felt warm. Carmen was adamant that he would admit his love for you tonight, unsure if he could go another day living with the fact that you were in love with him, but you still didn’t know just how much he had always loved you. You were so blissfully unaware that since he could remember, you had been the one and only option in his mind.

a/n: wowza, long time no see. i apologize that this is a bit of a filler chapter but it felt kinda necessary idk. anway please let me know if there are any problems with this chapter it's barely edited. enjoy : )

also also: both richard cabral as coco in mayans and manny montana as rio in good girls inspired cortez the sponsor, but head canon him as whoever you want…okay bye now 🤍

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

[prev]

In the end, it doesn't matter. His plans, his intentions, his hopes, none of it matters.

In his dreams, it is disturbingly easy for Pure Vanilla to forget that the world is larger than the two of them, full of Cookies with their own plans and motives. In the careful cradle of his dreams, cocooned within Shadow Milk's constant presence, he hadn't even considered that there were other options.

Now, he is forced to confront them, and he can barely pay attention to anything. He isn't sure what happened in the first place, everything moving too quickly for him to process a thing. There is chaos everywhere, a flurry of colours and sounds and happenings whipping around him like a hurricane, the veil of darkness turning it all into a blur. The air is thrumming with unleashed archaic power, pricking his dough like pins and needles, and it all goes straight to his head, making him dizzy.

His grip on his staff is tight, leaning against it as he closes his eyes and borrows its gaze in the hopes of having a clearer view. It is just as indecipherable through his staff though, which means he isn't seeing things – the world really is coming apart at the seams, his nightmares unfurling before him.

And worst of all, Pure Vanilla is awake. He is wide, wide awake and cold with shock.

"There you are!"

Arms wrap around his shoulders from behind, the voice chiming delightedly in his ear. Pure Vanilla pulls away with a violent jerk of his body, not quite having the mind to be surprised that the arms let him, spinning around to face the other.

Shadow Milk stands, practically glowing with giddy joy, in a newly-crafted body of fresh dough, and it is strange to see him so solid. He stretches his arms above his head, leaning from side to side, before turning in a circle with a flourish, as if to show the body off.

"Wonderful, isn't it? And with this, Little Miss Guardian can't lock us back up again so easily! Certainly not with a dirty little trick like patching up some cracks." His voice is jovial, even as irritation flickers over his eyes at the memory of his encounter with White Lily. It disappears quickly, swallowed by tide of something that could almost be taken as childlike excitement. "Ah, it's so fun to have my own body again!"

It's the sort of happiness Pure Vanilla had hoped to see from him, but seeing it now, it just makes his heart ache fiercely, his chest seconds away from caving in. He is beautiful, a fact preserved even through the filter of his staff's eye, and everything is falling apart around him.

"What are you doing?" He asks, hardly more than a whisper, hardly able to manage those words anyway. It isn't the fact that Shadow Milk is out, physically here in front of him that makes him feel queasy. If it were only that, Pure Vanilla suspects he'd match him in his joy. It isn't even that he grabbed the first opportunity to escape, even if it wasn't following Pure Vanilla's plans for negotiation.

It is the upheaval sweeping around him, a complete lack of care for the surroundings and exactly as Shadow Milk was before, that is what hurts. Pure Vanilla had never lied when he said he believed in him.

"Celebrating, of course! This is my greatly anticipated grand return!" Shadow Milk announces cheerfully, taking an overdramatic bow before glancing at Pure Vanilla with a cheeky grin. His eyes glitter like stars, in that way that always mesmerises him. "Come on, Vani, dance with me!"

He reaches for both of Pure Vanilla's hands, not fazed by the fact that one is still holding his staff. He simply traps Pure Vanilla's hand between his and the staff as he pulls him towards him, using the momentum to whirl them around. Pure Vanilla stumbles, and without thinking, he scrambles to hold Shadow Milk back, his stomach and head churning uselessly.

It must show on his face, the horrible turbulance within him, because Shadow Milk's eyes all squint at him, some softly, others teasingly. He lets go of the hand not on his staff, instead wrapping his arm around Pure Vanilla's waist to offer him more stability. "What are you looking so gloomy for? Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Not like this, you know that." Pure Vanilla whispers, his now free hand balling into a fist and falling weakly to rest against Shadow Milk's shoulder. His sadness leaks heavy into his tone, but he can't help it, can barely articulate himself. "I wanted you to be better."

Shadow Milk doesn't reply for a moment, still dragging him through the motions of a partner dance. He seems to realise Pure Vanilla isn't planning to open his eyes anytime soon, because his eyes slide over to make contact with him through his staff, his grin simmering down to a smile, still unbearably cheerful. "You didn't truly believe that would work, did you?"

It's a harmless question, in the grand scheme of things, in the whirlpool of everything happening around them, but it feels like a cracking punch to the stomach. Shadow Milk had seemed reluctant at first, but he had never outright refused his idea. By the end of it, he even seemed to be considering it seriously, but something said as bluntly as that must be his true feelings–

"So you lied to me." Pure Vanilla murmurs hollowly, the cracks in his heart filling with sticky disappointment, all towards himself. He can't bring himself to hate Shadow Milk for acting within his own nature, not when he should have known. "...Of course you did."

For the first time since he regained a physical form, Shadow Milk's smile drops completely, replaced with a fake pout. Though it seems lighthearted, the stars in his eyes spark with annoyance.

"I would never! How could you say such a terrible thing about me, after all we've been through?" Shadow Milk laments with exaggerated sorrow, throwing Pure Vanilla into an awkward twirl as his free hand rests against his own forehead like a hapless maiden. Pure Vanilla's brain seems to scramble at the sudden movement, barely gathering his bearings as Shadow Milk's arm returns to his waist. He thinks he may be sick.

"Remember, I said you could try your little plan out, not that I ever agreed to it." Shadow Milk reminds him in a low croon, lined with condescension. "I even told you I thought it was a stupid idea! I may be the Beast of Deceit, but I never directly lied to you. I'm a little hurt you assumed I did. I thought you knew me better than that!"

And Pure Vanilla can't muster a response to that, spirit growing soggier by the second, because it is true. His hope had led him into assumptions that were misguided, how can he blame Shadow Milk for that?

Somewhere in the background, there is the rumble of an explosion.

"You might have been able to convince me, you know." Shadow Milk adds with a gossamer thin smile, his voice growing more serious. "There was just one eensy-weensy problem with your argument."

Pure Vanilla trips over something behind him with a frazzled yelp, unconsiously gripping Shadow Milk's shoulder as his hat falls off, and Shadow Milk uses the momentum to lower him into a dip, bowing over him as he finally pauses their dance.

"You assumed that I need to be fixed," Shadow Milk spits the words through his teeth with a slight growl, curling his lip disdainfully as he pushes their faces far too close together, "but there's nothing to fix. We paid the price for having power the Witches' themselves gave us, all because of their cowardice and fickleness." He huffs, smiling with a lack of mirth. "Good punishments always teach a lesson, you say, but our punishment was unjust, decided on a whim. What lesson could it possibly teach?"

Pure Vanilla stares at him wordlessly, ears buzzing nervously. He feels vaguely like he is in freefall, his body tensing in anticipation of hitting the ground.

Instead, like a switch is flipped, Shadow Milk's stormy expression clears back into that pleasant merriment.

"But enough about all that," Shadow Milk says with faux politeness as he straightens up smoothly, jerking Pure Vanilla back onto his feet and sweeping him back into a circling dance, "now is the time for celebration! Relax!"

Shadow Milk draws Pure Vanilla even closer to him, almost pressing their bodies together, and Pure Vanilla, despite himself, is struck by the warmth of it. Shadow Milk has always been cold to the touch in his dreams but here, in this new body, he is too warm, radiating a heat that suggests getting too close will burn.

Shadow Milk hums a jaunty tune in his ear as they sway to and fro, and Pure Vanilla's darts his gaze around in an attempt to ground his thoughts. He must focus. He isn't sure where the others are – are the children safe? Where is White Lily? Shadow Milk isn't the only one who escaped, of that he is certain, so it is likely they are surrounded by danger on all sides, and that isn't even taking Dark Enchantress' forces into consideration. But if Shadow Milk is focused on him here, that is at least one less Beast for them to handle.

There you are, he had said when he found him. Shadow Milk had been seeking him out specifically, and surely not just for an innocent dance, so why—

Pure Vanilla glances down with sinking dread and realisation, jam turning cold.

"You're here for the Soul Jam, aren't you?" He murmurs, more to himself than Shadow Milk, but he must hear anyway, because his humming trails off. Pure Vanilla doesn't give him time to process the words though, yanking his staff up and suddenly there is light.

It is an extremely clumsy spell that misses by a mile – Pure Vanilla isn't awfully practised in offensive magic, and on top of that, his dough is shaking with too many emotions – but it does the trick. The bright flash startles Shadow Milk just enough for his grip to loosen, and Pure Vanilla wastes no time in scrambling back and away.

He gets a good few paces away before he is stopped by firm tug on his wrist, almost knocking him over. The beginning of real fear begins to well within him as he looks down to find himself caught by a dozen strings, shimmering like spun silk, all leading back to Shadow Milk's own hands as he approaches through the parting haze.

"I didn't know you had that in you. Bravo!" He laughs as he claps, seeming to be at ease, the attack doing nothing to dampen his mood. He comes to a stop nearby, wrapping the strings around his hand once, twice before pulling Pure Vanilla forward in a long, smooth motion that allows Shadow Milk to tuck his arm behind his back as he leans forward to meet him. "But to answer your question..."

Shadow Milk reaches up to grab the clasp that holds his Soul Jam as Pure Vanilla strains against the strings, knowing that despite any fondness he might have for him, he had never planned to let him have this. He braces for it to be ripped off, he braces for it to be gently pried away for him – he isn't sure which would be worse.

He does not brace for Shadow Milk to bend down and press a delicate kiss against its smooth surface.

"I'm here for the Soul Jam and you." He smirks against it, eyes flicking up from its sapphire shine to Pure Vanilla's stunned face, frozen in place. "That shouldn't be a surprise to you, after all our time spent together."

"You must be joking." Pure Vanilla chokes out before he can say any more, voice stuffy with conflicting emotions, gripping his staff so tightly he's distantly worried it may snap. His head is swimming, so much so that he worries he will faint, even though he's never been prone to it. "You don't mean that."

"I do." Shadow Milk replies with breezy confidence, his expression falling neutral as he straightens up just enough to press their foreheads together. It is not quite as impactful with Pure Vanilla seeing through his staff, but the contact between their dough still burns. "I like you. So, because I like you, I've come to collect everything."

Pure Vanilla is seeing through his staff, so he knows he is not imagining the solemn furrow of his brow, the slight pinch of his mouth, the lifetimes behind his eyes, the lifetimes he has fallen for. He is sure, almost instinctively, that he is telling the truth, and the mere thought makes his insides collapse into themselves like an agonising supernova.

"Please," he begs helplessly, strangely hoarse, abandoning his staff's eye and welcoming the darkness, unable to look anymore, "don't do this to me. It's–"

–cruel, but the word gets stuck in his throat. It is an accidental cruelty, and it hurts, hurts more than anything else, more than words can describe, even more than the all-encompassing ache of Dark Enchantress' first appearance, and the realisation that she shared White Lily's shadow. At least, then, Dark Enchantress was clear in her hatred, never allowing an opportunity for hope to fester. For all the pain that caused, the distance kept his head clearer.

But what is he meant to do now, knowing that Shadow Milk Cookie, for all he has done and will do, is sincere when he says he likes him? It is an irony that burdens him like a curse, but he almost wishes that it was a lie. It would be painful either way, but surely being tricked outright and mocked for it would be easier to cut clean from, to compartmentalise.

An ugly, painful sob rattles through his chest, and he bites down on it before it can leave his mouth, shoulders curling inwards like a wilting plant. Shadow Milk's arms loop around them, weighing them down further.

"Look at me." He calls, calm and low and stern, a professor's tone, and Pure Vanilla shudders with another swallowed sob.

"Look at me, Pure Vanilla." He repeats, a little louder, but it is the use of his name that catches his attention like a snare. Shadow Milk doesn't often use his proper name, not when it is just the two of them.

Pure Vanilla finally opens his own eyes, slowly and with difficulty, gummy with unshed tears and unable to make out anything beyond colourful shapes. Shadow Milk's face takes up his whole vision either way, and it makes his pain worsen. He can't look at him, not now, with everything that makes up Pure Vanilla jumbled into a mess and the world around them jumbled to match.

Surprising himself, Pure Vanilla sluggishly shifts to bury his face in Shadow Milk's shoulder, his shaking hands dropping his staff to clumsily grip his back in tight fistfuls. It surprises Shadow Milk too, judging by his slight jolt, but his arms tighten like a noose around his neck, pulling him close into a hug.

"You're awful." Pure Vanilla croaks, muffled and aching, squeezing his eyes shut again and soaking in the searing heat of the other, eating him alive.

Between them, the Virtue of Knowledge hums discordantly, its fractured pieces reunited at last. Shadow Milk chuckles, a sound Pure Vanilla feels rather than hears.

"If I'm awful," he says lightly, rocking them from side to side in a soothing rhythm, "then you must be too."

fin.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

The overwhelming misery of going viral on YouTube

In April of 2021, I posted a short to YouTube - a 60 second video in the format of their TikTok competitor. In the nature of shorts, it was a one-minute, necessarily un-nuanced hot take about a subject I like to talk about: character design. Specifically I made the mistake of lamenting that the character design of female heroes in major games tend to prioritize attractiveness rather than using their body shape to do storytelling about their lives or capabilities.

It did okay, garnering about 38k views in its first month. Didn't set the world on fire, but I got my point out there, and while there were some crappy comments, for the most part people seemed to understand what I was driving at.

The short had eventually climbed to about 100.000 views after a full year of being online, which is respectable, but in the world of YouTube Shorts a fairly middle-of-the-road level of success (these are extremely short videos being served extremely quickly to a huge base of users). Fast forward to November 8th of this year, and... something happens. More than a year after it was originally published, it starts gaining traction.

Slowly at first, a few thousand views, but by the 14th it's gained 80.000 views in a day. On the 16th, 400.000, on the 17th, 680.000. I have no idea why this is happening, there's no influx of viewers from any outside source, there's no topical news event that would make the video suddenly relevant.

I tweet about it, bemused by the sudden jump, but also hinting a bit at the other side of this story.

"There Is No Such Thing As Negative Press"

On YouTube, there is on the systemic level very little difference between positive attention and negative attention. If you create excellent work that brings joy into people's lives, they engage with your video and the algorithm reads that as success. And if you create miserable, hateful content that makes people angry and stokes them to responses of outrage, disgust or jeering, the algorithm reads that as a kind of success, too.

Hate-bait and rage-bait YouTubers operate in that latter space, churning out inflammatory or distressing content, hoping to elicit either reactions of horror, or gleeful cheering from people who like it when their favourite online personality trolls the Other.

But there's another way to garner negative attention, and that is to create content which is not at all designed to bait or elicit a negative response, but whose subject matter nonetheless produces a negative response from a certain kind of person.

That is the unfortunate slip-and-slide I have found myself on.

At the time of writing, the short sits at 6.8 million views, has been gaining on average 2 million views per day, and it still seems to be accelerating. Despite those skyrocketing numbers, however, it only ("only") has around 1300 published comments underneath it.

That is because, after the first couple of million views, I told YouTube to automatically hold all comments for review. That is, YouTube allows users to comment on the video, but those comments are not published until I manually approve them.

The reason I did this is... well, it's easier to show you with some pictures. Content warning, these are unfiltered YouTube comments, so expect casual bigotries.

These are screenshots from the "held for review" tab of my YouTube Studio backend. YouTube in recent years has gotten good at filtering out content like overt racial slurs and the worst of the worst insults, which is nice, but the filtered comments tab is still not a particularly pleasant place to read through right now.

Most of the comments are like what you see above: casually rude, fatphobic, homophobic, transphobic or otherwise unpleasant. Some of the comments are more intense, threatening me with violence, insulting me personally, "I hope your mom gets raped by a [racial slur]," and worse. The worst comments are a small percentage, but as you can imagine, they do stand out in the mind, and a small percentage of a huge number can still be a lot of comments.

And that's the thing. There are hundreds, and hundreds, and hundreds, and hundreds of comments. I scrolled for fifteen minutes and did not see the end of it. YouTube doesn't keep a visible count on how many comments are held for review, but I'd not be surprised if the 1300 comments count would have been doubled if I hadn't stopped it when I did. And since the video is still accelerating, that number is likely to skyrocket as well.

This provides me with the best theory I have as to why the video took off: the YouTube algorithm started showing it not to people who it thought would like it, but to people it thought would dislike it enough to react, to comment. And the more people did comment, the more the algorithm showed it to other people just like those who commented, who were also likely to dislike it.

This causes a feedback loop of negative attention, which the YouTube algorithm (horrifyingly) interprets as a success and an incentive to keep pushing the video.

Moderating this comments section is now physically impossible - I would need a staff of a dozen to handle it, which I can't afford and who I wouldn't want to expose to it, and while this deluge is going on, moderating the comments of other videos becomes next to impossible as well, since the "held for review" tab is utterly monopolized.

One fix for this problem, of course, is to simply disable the comments. But in my experience, doing that only encourages the worst of the commenters to seek out your other content and leave even worse comments there instead. In fact, a couple of dozen particularly irate people have already sought out my other channels to post insults there, adding to the stress and workload of dealing with all this viral "success."

How YouTube Makes YouTubers Worse

This situation is stressful, because humans are monkey creatures with monkey brains that do not like being exposed to a constant stream of rudeness, cruelty and casual bigotry. However rational you try to be about it, however detached and cold, it wears on you. It chips away at your mental defenses and becomes a constant source of low-level stress and misery.

But as far as YouTube is concerned, it's a huge success.

YouTube's systems are all set up this way. They celebrate increases in numbers with cheerful messages and positive green arrows and "helpful" statistics showing just how much things are growing - meanwhile, if you post otherwise positively received work that doesn't attract as much attention, it will give you dour "your content received fewer views due to lower interest this month" messages and greyed-out downward arrows. If you have a video that does really well on the numbers, YouTube will even play a little fireworks animation on its statistics to celebrate.

It's a form of not-so-subtle psychological manipulation. As a YouTuber you are dependent on your statistics to inform your work - if your rent depends on making those numbers go up, you essentially have no choice but to pay attention to them and let them guide your decision making. And so YouTube designs its systems to push its creators towards the behaviour that the platform finds most beneficial: numbers optimizing.

And the thing is, if I went only by the numbers, I would look at the success of this short and go "oh, there's a viable content strategy here!"

I could try and replicate its "success" by creating more content around the same topic, by targeting the same kind of outrage-baiting, by identifying the contentious subjects and trigger points brought up by the angry people in the comments and hitting them repeatedly, hoping to make engagement fall out.

YouTube would reward me for that, quite handsomely, in fact, even as mental health and professional happiness would absolutely crater. I don't have the personality for that kind of content creation, it's not what I want to do with my work, it's not the kind of person I want to be.

But I am not immune to propaganda. I have already changed as a person from doing this job, I know this for a fact. My priorities have shifted, my wants and needs have changed. Not for the worse, I believe, not yet, but the platform is constantly, constantly pushing on me.

It's unpleasant and it's stressful. It's hostile design, coupled with primitive and insufficient moderation tools, coupled with an aggressive algorithm which will go out of its way to ensure your relationship with your audience is toxic, if that toxicity produces better numbers for the platform.

Viral success is often thought of as a desirable thing, something which can launch a career or skyrocket an unknown to success. The reality is, it is mostly just overwhelming. I'm a grown man and I have done online content creation for a long time, and I have learned strategies to manage toxic comments sections over years of experience.

But imagine if something like this happened to a sixteen year old. Imagine if it happened to a teenage girl just starting out making videos. Or a trans person. Or, hell, any person from a marginalized community. I am sheltered by my privileges, but I have seen how dark it gets and how fast it gets dark for people who don't have those extra protections.

Well, it does happen to them, and no matter how rancid, bigoted and horrible the abuse they receive, they will log in to YouTube Studio to see happy fireworks and "Nice! Your video got 20 million views!" with a little green upwards pointing arrow right next to it.

You might have seen articles and thinkpieces around "creator burnout," and I want you to know that a huge part of what burns creators out is the primitive, profit-optimizing, hostile systems that power these platforms and monetize our worst experiences on them as "engagement."

In case you're wondering how much money I've earned from those 6.8 million views, by the way, it's about $20.

YouTube says they're rolling out full Shorts monetization next year, so I guess I just picked the wrong month to go viral.

---

If this story resonated with you at all, do me a favor and leave a nice comment under the work of an online creator you enjoy. It helps more than you might think.

You can tip me on Patreon or Ko-fi if you want to.

[custardcrazy]

true connection

summary: Your boyfriend returns to you after a short disappearance (to who knows where). (gn!reader) 

wordcount: 2.4k 

A/N: set after peter gets dropped back to his universe. established relationship woohooooo!!!!!!!! (too lazy to write friends to lovers rn but i really want to) 

You weren't sure what happened to Peter when he vanished, but there was definitely something different about him when he returned. 

It was late, the sky an inky blue by the time you'd attempted to go to bed. Filtered through the small gap you left in your bedroom window were the sounds of the city at night: cars passing by, the occasional angry horn, pumping music from a couple of doors down. 

You didn't mind any of that. You could deal with the noise, of course. 

But what caused you to jump up and push all your covers aside was a familiar knock on the glass. 

It'd been years since he'd stopped showing up at your window, but lo and behold: there he was. 

To your mild relief, he didn't look injured or anything. Just a little scruffier than usual. 

Before, when he'd leave for certain periods of time, that usually meant he was off fighting some big bad alongside other superheroes. However, he always told you before he left to fight said big bad; this time, he was just up and gone. Apartment empty, things scattered around as if a tornado had swept through the small space. 

It was only natural to assume the worst. 

So, when he climbed through your window, landing maybe a little clumsily, you were torn between bombarding him with questions or clinging to him like some sort of touch-starved koala. After all, you'd been worried. To say the very least. But you didn't speak yet, as he stood up straight and rolled his shoulders. 

The air hung low, for a moment. His gaze met yours. Searching.

And then, his arms were around you. You were encapsulated by familiarity -- his were hands you knew, hands you'd held and kissed and examined countless times, even when frustratingly covered by his suit. You could feel the slight scratch of stubble as he pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering. 

"I missed you." Voice low, though it trembled a little. There was something else besides the normal homesickness that you were accustomed to.

"I missed you too," you echoed. Peter seemed content to just look at you for now. Now, his thumb was tracing your cheek. You let the tenderness of the action sink in, before breaking the silence. "Where were you?" 

And how important was it, for him not to let you know? 

His mouth opened as if he was going to speak, but he closed it soon after. A crease formed between his furrowed brows. "Uh," he began, "it's … a really long story. I'd try and explain it to you, but you'd probably think I was crazy or something." The corner of his mouth quirked up, and you couldn't help but match it. 

"You've fought countless outright bizarre villains -- I think I can handle it." 

There was another scratchy kiss pressed affectionately to your forehead. "I bet you could." 

"But, really." Even though he was smiling, you knew he was being serious. "I wasn't kidding. It's a really long story, and I don't really feel like doing the whole play-by-play right now." 

You exhaled slowly. "That's fine. But you'll tell me … eventually, right?" 

"Of course I will." Peter inclined his head a fraction of an inch, dipping more into your space. "I just need a really, really long hot shower and then a really, really long nap." He huffed out a quiet laugh. "And maybe a grilled cheese." 

"I think that's possible." You dropped your eyes for a second, thinking, then quickly met his once more. Naturally, he was downplaying his own exhaustion -- but again, you'd known him long enough that even his strong and practiced attempts at hiding his own weakness were easy to decipher. Obviously, he was worn. Tired. He always carried it on his back and shoulders, and especially in his eyes. 

"There's definitely some of your old clothes around here somewhere, if you wanted to use my shower." 

At that, Peter's smile widened. Sure, it wasn't an all-out grin, but it was just as sweet. From your close proximity, you could pick out the beginnings of crow's feet making their idents; sure, you were well aware that he wasn't the fondest of the few wrinkles that were forming on his face. 

Honestly, though? They only made him more attractive. 

"You're a lifesaver," he gushed, "seriously." Hesitating for a second, he added: "But could you indicate which towels I can use? I'd feel guilty for stealing yours." 

"Like last time?" 

"... That was three years ago." 

Reluctantly, you detangled yourself from his arms. "And yet, I still remember." 

"I'm a changed man, okay? You can trust me. Stealing is against my moral code." 

As you headed the short distance to the bathroom, Peter stuck close to you. Even if he wasn't holding you anymore, he didn't seem keen on leaving your side just now. His arm brushed yours as you moved past him to get to the closet. 

"These  -- and those, too, if you want." It took a little effort to reach around the various piles of things, but you handed him a towel. Bright cyan, with seashell patterns. "That's big enough, right? 

"Looks like it," he affirmed. "Thanks. I'll be out in a jiff." 

As if. Whenever he said that it'd take him at least half an hour. You wouldn't be surprised if your water bill suddenly skyrocketed. 

You retired to the living room, flicking on the television. Some late-night old movie reruns that looked semi-interesting, even if the video quality was a little shot, and the Transatlantic accents a little too smooth. Since the bathroom wasn't too far from the living room, you could distantly hear the water running in the background. 

"But Richard, no, I, I -- " pleaded the female lead, gazing at her man with nearly-teary eyes.  

" -- You've got to listen to me," he interrupted, nearly void of emotion in comparison. "Do you have any idea what you'd have to look forward to if you stayed here? Nine chances out of ten we'd both wind up in a concentration camp." 

--

It wasn't long before Peter emerged, hair damp and the seashell towel around his waist. A distinct cloud of steam wafted from the bathroom as he approached you, thankfully not dripping water onto the carpet. Even so, you could still notice some drops lingering on his shoulders and whatnot. 

"I'm guessing my leftovers are in your room," he said, a little pink in the face from what you assumed had been a burning hot shower.  

"Probably," you answered, getting up from the couch. "Let's see." 

After some rifling around in your dresser, you found them -- gray sweatpants, some worn plaid sleep shorts, an assortment of boxers, and a couple of ancient tee shirts which were probably old enough to legally own property. All the clothing got unceremoniously tossed at Peter, who looked mildly amused. 

"You should assign me my own drawer." Checking the shorts for holes, he paused to grin at you. "I bet there's even more stuff in there, huh?" 

Leaning back to sit on your heels, you sighed. "There's definitely more. But trying to find it all would be like trying to find buried treasure without a map." 

"And in this case, 'treasure' would be an extremely faded Daily Bugle sweatshirt." He raised his eyebrows. "Speaking of. I want that back, please." 

"Hey, it's really comfy, okay?" 

By the time you managed to rearrange the rightful contents of the drawers you'd thrown into a state of chaos, Peter had put on a shirt and the sleep shorts -- the latter were maybe a bit too small, but it wasn't like you were complaining. And it didn't seem like he cared, either, yawning widely as he stretched his arms to the sky. 

You stood up, mirroring his stretch. "Tired?" 

"You bet." He rubbed his eyes a little, before running his fingers through his hair; that ever-present lock of hair falling onto his forehead. "Are you?" 

"I was just about to go to bed when you showed up, so … " You absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of your shirt. "Yeah." 

"Oh, sorry 'bout that." Suddenly sheepish, he scratched the back of his neck. "I wasn't really thinking about the inconvenient time. I just wanted -- " 

" -- to see me?" You finished. 

The Peter of years prior would've ducked his head shyly. And, sure, that in itself was adorable, and would've made you go a little crazy. However, this Peter maintained eye contact, and nodded firmly, dropping his arm back to his side. 

Your heart did a neat double backflip. 

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I did. Like I said earlier … I missed you. A lot." 

The look in his eyes was genuine and you couldn't help but smile. 

"I'm glad you're back, Peter." 

--

The morning eased its way into your room, rays of sunlight trickling through your window and onto your face. 

You could hear the whirring of air-conditioning from the apartment above yours, as well as a couple of birds chirping. However, the sounds that overpowered the rest were the usual city ones: the aggressive morning commuters paired with the train passing by, clacking loudly on the tracks. 

His arm was slung over you, face somewhere near your shoulder or the top of your head. And he was completely dead to the world, quietly snoring near your ear. You smiled a little -- he smelled like your soap now, and not that three-in-one shampoo that he used. It was a nice change. 

For a little while, you remained laying there, enjoying the moment. He was warm, of course. Very comfy. A lot less sarcastic when he was asleep. 

Though, eventually, you did have to get up in order to make breakfast. 

With some effort and finesse, you wiggled out from under Peter's arm and scooted off the bed very slowly. To your relief, he was still basically unconscious, and just rolled over as you left the room, the wooden floor cold under your bare soles. 

There was some pancake mix left in your pantry, and although you were still a little groggy, making pancakes was practically second nature to you by now. Just like boxed macaroni and cheese. Or instant ramen, even if that didn't really count as cooking. 

By the time you'd loaded up a plate with the fruits of your labor, he was awake, practically lumbering into the kitchen. 

Upon sighting the food, he immediately moved to snatch a pancake straight from the plate. With no preamble whatsoever. Not even a 'please'. You knew by now it was futile to try and stop him, so you just let him take it. 

By the time he had half of it in his mouth, he finally spoke, words garbled by the food. " 'Morning." 

"Good morning to you, too." You tried not to comment on his lack of manners. "Sleep well?" 

He swallowed and leaned in to plant a kiss on your temple. "Excellently, actually." Pulling back, he brushed a couple of errant strands of hair out of his face; speaking of, his hair was sticking wildly in multiple directions, and he hadn't bothered to fix it just now. "I haven't slept that well in ages." 

Idly, he split the half of a pancake he was holding in half, lost in thought. "Scratch that. Maybe I have? After you helped me get that new bedframe from IKEA or wherever." 

"Yeah," you agreed, "seriously, why didn't you get a new one earlier? I didn't even know you were using just the mattress." 

He shrugged. "Couldn't fit the thing in the moving van." 

"Oh." 

Soon, you were both seated in front of the television, pancakes in tow. Peter flipped through the channels, before settling on the news. It was all normal stuff -- traffic backups, strings of petty theft, a new office building, et cetera. For a bit, you sat in a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the ones that weaved their way in from outside, and the noise coming from the TV. 

Even though there was more space on the couch, neither of you wanted to move away from each other. 

Peter's head fell to rest on your shoulder. Instinctively, you wrapped your arm around him, and he audibly sighed, scooching closer. 

"So," you said, after a few seconds. "How long are you gonna stay here? Your apartment's a mess, isn't it?" 

"Do you want me gone that bad?" He volleyed back, teasing. "Then, no, I'm not leaving. I'm gonna mooch off your food, money, and WiFi -- forever." 

"Peter -- " you couldn't help but snicker, "you know what I meant." 

"Okay, okay." Dropping the snark, you could practically hear the grimace in his voice. "Later today, most likely. You're right, I do have to clean all that crap up." Barely audibly, he muttered, "god, I hate cleaning." 

"I know, I know." You leaned your head against his, not even paying attention to the news lady going on about some sort of rain pattern. "Seriously, though. Did a bomb go off in there or something? When I went to check on you, it sure looked like it." 

There was a noticeable pause before he responded, as if he was trying to figure out the best way to phrase what he was saying. 

"Uh, I swear I'm being honest, okay?" He began. "I'm not joking or anything. Really.” 

“But no, it wasn't a bomb, it was a … a portal.” He inhaled slowly. “And I got sucked through it. Some of my stuff got messed up because of its sucking." He made a couple of motions with the hand that wasn't resting limply on his thigh. 

"A portal? Like, a Doctor Strange portal?" 

"No, no, not like that." More hand gestures. "It was to another dimension. And that was why I didn't get any of your calls." 

After the initial shock -- honestly, it made sense. It had seemed like he'd just straight-up disappeared right off the face of the Earth. Sure, he got busy, but usually, your voicemails never went unanswered. 

"Oh, okay," you replied, calmly. 

He sat straight up, looking at you with more than a little bewilderment. "... 'Oh, okay?'" He repeated. "That's it? You're not gonna question it?" 

You shrugged lightly. 

"Why should I?" 

Just like you, it only took him a split second to recover. 

"Fair enough." 

He was back to leaning on you before he spoke again. "So … I'm assuming that you wanna hear all about my thrilling adventures?" Smirking, he sounded pleased with himself. "I became a mentor, you know. And saved every single alternate universe ever." 

"Oh, really?" 

When he kissed you, you reciprocated without hesitation. He tasted very faintly of chocolate chips -- and lingered again, before finally pulling away. 

"Really," he said. 

You smiled. 

"Tell me all about it, then." 

[harleehazbinfics]

Home is where my Heart is.

Chapter 3: The First Time Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 1100+ Warning: implied rape and abuse A/N: idk i feel weird that he's kinda ooc; tbf he is very different here in this ff BUT LISTEN crazy meets sweet, ITS KINDA CUTE also also, imma take a break and continue my devout!reader ff, you can check it out here. thanky!

mmmmm i changed so much dialogue i wonder how this'll go. (edited as of Feb 20)

It had been quite a few months after Alastor and I have started going out. Nothing drastically different happened when we were still friends then transitioning to lovers.

Both of us would mind our own business, however, that didn’t really mean that we weren’t thinking about each other. If Alastor went on radio, I would listen to him while doing mundane chores, listening to his voice through the vintage filter of the stereo, I'd even retort to his witty commentary as if he was in the room with me. While, I would be out doing shows across the city, ranging from clubs and cafes to the early television programs.

Today was one of those days, where I would be waiting for Alastor to pick me up after performing a show, as he promised to bring me out to drink for our date. I stood at a lamp post waiting for him, looking down at my shadow.

“Well, look who it is. Lil’ Mel out in town?” a raspy voice said to me, “Must be nice to finally get out of that orphanage, huh? How’ve you been liking it so far? Missed me?”

Hearing this familiar insistent voice sent shivers down my spine, having flashbacks of my days in the orphanage. I wrapped my arms around myself.

“Go away, Aidan. I don’t want to talk to you,” I announced, fear creeping up on me.

“Oh, don’t be like that, babe!” he said putting his hand on my shoulder, “Don’t you remember all our fun times?”

I wriggled out of his grasp and angrily answered, “Fun? Hah, you’re insane. And never call me babe! Goodbye.”

I tightened my grasp on my sling bag and briskly walked away, looking for a more crowded area. But I never got too far when he suddenly had my arm in a tight grip making me squeal in pain. He covered my mouth with his other hand hushing me, and placing his knee between my legs. This scenario was all too familiar that tears welled up in my eyes automatically, but I gathered all my courage tensing my body and biting his hand, frustration clear on my face.

Meanwhile, Alastor was already a few buildings close to your arranged meeting place when he stopped when he heard a familiar voice.

“I told you to let go of me!”

This shout reaches his ears following a thud, fearing the worst he then bolts toward Miledy’s direction.

“Miledy!” he yells however freezes when he sees a man looming over her with a metal pipe in his hands.

“AL!” she screamed scared out of her wits.

Without a second thought, he lunges at the man throwing the both of them to the side leaving me on the floor. I looked at Alastor in fear for him when I saw him struggling to wrestle the larger man off of him.

“STOP! GET OFF HIM!”

Aidan seemed to falter when he heard me, creating an opening for Alastor and managing to stab him through his chest. Aidan gathered the last of his strength to wrap his hand around Alastor’s neck. I panicked and grabbed the forgotten pipe and bashed him over the head, making him go limp on top of Al.

Alastor moved the body to the side and with a relieved look on his face, he moves forwards and pulls me in a tight hug.

“I was so scared. Did you get hurt?” he frets over me.

“You’re not scared of me? I just killed a-a person, Al,” I asked afraid of his reaction.

“Heavens no! I’m more relieved you’re not hurt,” he replied letting go of the hug and placing his hand to the side of my face.

Relieved that Alastor didn’t leave her despite her sins, she finally broke down as she recounted the traumatic events that had happened, including the times where she comforted herself to sleep crying after Aidan was done playing with her, causing all these bottled up grievances to burst out. While Alastor did his best to comfort her in an embrace.

“We should probably leave now. It won’t take long before someone calls the police,” he explained holding on to her shoulder. I only nodded my head shakily still rattled and followed his lead.

He covered the body and lifted it over his shoulder keeping it steady while his free grabbed my hand and ran far far away. We eventually ended in a forest where we buried the body. I wiped the sweat off my brow breathing deeply from all the extraneous activities. After that was all done, Alastor led me to a cabin outside the hunting grounds.

“Where are we?” I asked while looking at the old furniture and the floorboards that creaked.

“My house,” he stated simply offering me a glass of water. I took and drank all of it without a second thought making Alastor tug a very subtle smile on his lips at how she completely trusted him.

“Al, we just killed a man and buried him. What if they figure out that we did it? What will happen to us?” I ramble, face going pale from different scenarios going through my mind.

He kneels in front of me a frown adorning his face when he saw how distraught I was and replied, “I’ll never let them hurt you. I promise, they will never know.”

“What about you, Al! What if they take you away from me. I don’t want to be separated from you!” I yelled hoping he’d care about his own well-being.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said reading through me and holding my face in his hands, “I’ll never ever leave you, not if I can’t help it.”

My eyebrows furrowed still unconvinced, “How can you be so sure?”

His eyebrows drooped and a wry smile takes place while putting his hands on my knees obediently, “I’ve been hiding from them for years now. They haven’t had any idea that it was me. Knowing a lot of people surely has its perks.” I looked at him confused. “The first person killed was when I was 16, on the day that my mother died, and I’ve been running ever since.”

“I’m sorry I lied to you. But I never wanted you to be involved in this dirty past of mine,” he apologizes. “But I swear on my life that I never had any bad intention towards you. All I want is for you to be safe and free from worry.”

It took a very long time before one of us did or said anything. I took his hand, stood up and walked him towards the balcony that we walked past getting here. And just watched as the sun slowly rose hand in hand.

“I guess this is how we live for the rest of our lives now,” I uttered just above a whisper to the wind.

“I’ll protect you. No matter what.”

“Me too. You can depend on me… I love you, Al.”

“Thank you, Miledy.”

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

hmmm before taylor x player get together mayeb taylro gets asked about her in an interview?

Jimmy Fallon and a DM

taylor swift x fem!NHL!reader

note: not that good lol, sorry i loved the idea just got busy and i wanted to put it out sooner than later <3

Between the break for the USA and International leg of her tour, Taylor was set to appear on Jimmy Fallon. Waiting for her que, getting her hair fixed last second by the stylist, she hears the ‘Please welcome, Dr. Taylor Swift”  

The fans in the live audience cheered as Taylor stepped out onto the set, giving Jimmy a quick hug before sitting down. The cheering never stopped, “Thank you so much.” The woman said, addressing the crowd which only causes them to cheer more.

“We are just so happy you’re here! And I announced you as ‘Doctor’ this time. ""Yes. Thank you. But really I’m happy to be here.” “And we’re so excited to talk about the tour, so you’ve finished the USA leg. And you have announced The Eras Tour film, coming out worldwide October 13th! And it really is a record breaking tour!”

The crowd cheering again, an awkward smile on Taylor’s face, even after years it will always be weird to have people tell you all your accomplishments. 

“I mean, I've written some things down; the tour is already estimated to earn over $1 billion, your opening night in Glendale was the most-attended concert by a female artist ever in the U.S., and your tour has actually boosted the economy! I mean that’s amazing! That’s amazing.” “Thank you! That is so kind of you to say all that!” “Well it’s true!”

-

“And- y’know speaking of your athleticism in getting ready for the tour, a certain athlete in the NHL for the New Jersey Devils, said you were her celebrity crush. Did you see this?”

Of course Taylor had seen it. The clip was all over ‘SwiftTok’ a place she was very active in, with her secret account. And only her closest friends knew that she had in fact started to reciprocate the feelings. Growing a crush on the girl after watching clip after clip of her doing media, getting mic’d up, and answering the questions; and getting butterflies in her stomach whenever she hears Y/n mention her.

“Um, yes I did. I mean, Y/n L/n, she’s very talented and I really admire her, and how far she’s brought herself; and she is definitely far more athletic than me.”

A low chuckle coming from the crowd, Taylor thankful it was Jimmy interviewing her and not anyone else, who would want to press on the subject.

-

One thing about Y/n is she loves talk shows, reality TV, and award shows. So having a night off, Y/n decided to stay in and do her favourite activity, surfing the channels. And she happens to come across the Jimmy Fallon tonight show, with Taylor Swift in the seat adjacent to the host. And another thing about Y/n is whenever she sees Taylor Swift, she stops.

They were talking about her workout routine to get ready for the tour, which truly to Y/n sounded very impressive. Then they did something that at this time feels like the worst thing ever, yet will turn out to be the best thing to ever happen to her. 

Jimmy mentions a ‘certain athlete’. That’s what Y/n believed would end her life, hearing Taylor Swift talk about her confessing her brush on the woman. Hearing that your celebrity crush has heard what you’ve said about them, was probably her worst fear.

Before she could even hear what the woman was going to say, against her own will, Y/n turned off the TV, put on music and finally started to make dinner; something she was putting off before that became her alternative.

-

The early morning light of 5:30 am filtered through the curtains, Y/n getting out of bed and making her way into the bathroom, and getting ready; telling her google home to play her morning music, getting into her workout attire, before making her way into her kitchen and making a smoothie with her pre-workout. 

Only going on her phone in the elevator, the woman almost dropped her half-finished smoothie, and honestly she herself almost fell to the floor seeing the DM she had gotten.

Hey, Y/n

I’m sorry if talking about you on The Tonight Show in any way made you uncomfortable, but I really do admire you and I was wondering if you would ever want to go out sometime. It isn’t just you with the celebrity crush.

Lesson number one of how to kill Y/n, be Taylor Swift and ask her out.

~taglist~

@orange15quote

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Champion of the World **^

Part 2 of Music Producer! Harry blurb as requested in the notes by @totodiamond :) I just did a proper one shot for it.

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), fingering, sex, mentions of death and loss, cheating.

WC: 9k

LAST WARNING... If you haven't read the BLURB first you can do so here.

The reception of Y/N’s band’s new album was expected to be pretty promising. Granted, their music wasn’t “mainstream”, but Harry had insisted that they have 2 singles on the album to get them more on the radar and well, it had worked. Their second single had a more indie-pop feel and swept the nation thanks to a TikTok posted by their label. Because of it’s popularity it really helped hype up the anticipation for their album release and it was projected to do really well. They were also projecting that the second single would be the “song of the summer”. And well, they would start to tour in August so they would be busy from August until next May. 

The topic of tour seemed to be the most frequently asked question as she navigated through the room at the album’s launch party. This was their first headlining tour, they had opened on a few tours for several shows with their EP and first album, but this was the big one. Their self-titled album. Because this is how they made a name for themselves. It was a lot to take in and the more people asked the more overwhelmed Y/N felt. There were people everywhere and she was slowly starting to get anxious and she just needed a little break so she headed outside to catch some fresh air. When she got out there someone was smoking off to the side and the scent just called to her. She hadn’t smoked in years, but she was feeling nostalgic, so she went up to him and bummed a cigarette off of him before the man headed inside. She had just taken her first drag and it felt so familiar that she smiled to herself.

“Seriously?” She heard and immediately recognized the voice and turned to her right to see Harry walking over to her with a disbelieving smirk on his face. She was partially hidden behind a giant palm planter for this very reason, she didn’t want a scolding from anyone about her smoking. She knew cigarettes were gross and bad for you, but she was feeling nostalgic when the scent reached her nose and she gave in just this once.

“I know, I know…but I haven’t smoked in maybe 4 years, it’s just this once. Don’t narc me out to Richard.” She said to Harry of their manager as he stopped before her, still smirking.

“Gimme that.” He said extending his hand to her and she frowned.

“Fine. Just one more though.” She said to him and he laughed softly.

“Relax, I’m not gonna put it out. Nor will I narc you out.” He said to her lowly and she smiled at him as she passed it on over, “D’you mind?” He asked as he raised it to his mouth and she shook her head.

“Go for it.” She assured and he proceeded to put the filter between his lips and inhaled for a few seconds before letting the smoke flow out from between his slightly parted lips as he exhaled.

“Wow, I haven’t smoked in ages either.” He said to her with a smile, “It’s as awful and comforting as I remember.” He added and she chuckled.

“Yeah…” she agreed.

“I promised myself I’d never do that again…thanks.” He joked and she shrugged.

“I’m sorry for tempting you. I’ve heard that I tend to bring out the worst in people…” she apologized with a half smile on her face.

“No you don’t.” He shook his head, “You bring out the wild side in people, but it’s only because you’re so effortlessly cool and yourself. Like people want to impress you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” He said and she smiled.

“Is that what this was? You trying to impress me?” She teased him.

“No, I have some dignity.” He countered with a grin and she laughed loudly as he chuckled, “Nah, I saw you walk out in a bit of a rush and just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He explained, “So are you alright?”

“Yeah, it just got a little overstimulating in there. Too many lights and voices and questioned and smells…it was a lot.” She said and he hummed as he took another drag before handing the cigarette back and she immediately took a drag.

“Oh, the shitty parts of acquiring fame…”

“Yeah.” She giggled as the smoke billowed out of her mouth. He started at her lips for a few seconds as she glanced off somewhere else. Her lips were slightly swollen and looked so smooth and juicy from whatever product she had on them. He’d been dying to kiss her for months, but he didn’t want to start anything with her while they were actively involved in a professional relationship. 

“Are you excited for the tour?” He asked after a few beats of silence. And she wasn’t annoyed when he asked about it, but maybe it’s because it was him.

“Yeah, we already start rehearsals next week! I think we need to re-work the setlist though…but we’ll see once we run the full show through.”

“Are you guys rehearsing here?”

“Yeah, we’ll stay in LA.” She confirmed, “What’s next for you?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got a couple offers on the table for different gigs, just not sure what to choose.” He confessed and she hummed.

“Well which one has you most excited?” She asked and he bit his lip pensively.

“Ummm…I’ve been approached to compose for an indie film…” he said and she gasped in surprise.

“Oh? That’s so cool, Harry!”

“Yeah.” He smiled, “I haven’t really done any original compositions since…maybe grad school?” He said with a questioning expression, “So it’s not out of my skillset, but I’m definitely out of my depth and out of practice. I’m sure I’m rusty, but it’s something different than what I’ve been doing the last few years, you know? So it seems the most exciting and challenging.”

“Yeah. That’s really sick. What’s the storyline? If I can ask.” She said and he nodded.

“Yeah, ummm, it’s one of those dystopian love stories…so like the world’s gonna end in a few weeks and we’re all gonna die and it’s about like making peace with yourself and living in the moment, finding the beauty in the tragedy…that kind of thing. I really liked the script, it’s so realistic and well written. I’ve even considered going for one of the lead roles.” He said to her and she smiled.

“Oh? Acting too?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled timidly.

“Well aren’t you multitalented!” She smiled as he smiled bashfully, “Well, it sounds really cool, definitely sounds like something I’d watch. If only to hear your compositions.” She said and he smiled.

“Hey, if I say yes maybe you can sing on a track.” He suggested and she smiled.

“Yeah, I’d be down.” She assured as she flicked the ash off of her cigarette before taking another drag and exhaling, “Do you want another?”

“Yeah, last one.” He said and she chuckled as she passed it over to him. Once he took his drag he held it out to her.

“I’m good. You can kill it or…kill it.” She said and he smiled as he stepped over to the little ashtray over the garbage bin and extinguished what was left of the cigarette before stepping back over to her.

“So, should I keep myself open for your next album or has the illusion of having me produce your albums died?” He asked with a grin and Y/N laughed aloud at his question before biting down on her lip to suppress a smile.

“Ummm, I’d say keep yourself open…I think I need to give you a fair shot.”

“Oh… OK.” He smiled contently, “Good. I’ve got some really great ideas for some of the songs we cut from this album that can help kind of establish your sound for the next one.” He said.

“Geez…already? Everything moves so fast here.”

“You’re definitely not in Kansas anymore…” he smiled at her and she rolled her eyes playfully, “Don’t roll your eyes, you know you want to laugh.” He said to her and she finally did but shook her head.

“I’m not even from Kansas! I just went to school there!”

“Yeah, but the rest of your band is, and it was formed there, so whether you like it or not, you’re now from Kansas - well according to Wikipedia you are - so the joke works.” He said smugly.

“You wikipedia-ed me?”

“Well, I wiki-ed the band before I agreed to work with you guys. You’ve seriously never googled anything about me?” He asked her incredulously.

“Eh, kind of…I mean, I googled narcissistic personality disorder, to see if you met the criteria for it…” she said and he laughed loudly and she smirked, “When I realized that I was reaching, I googled your birthday and discovered you’re an Aquarius, and well…that explained a lot. Like how you’re so great at your job but also a control freak and kind of a dick.” She teased and he shook his head.

“I see how it is…” he hummed in mock offense and she reached out for his arm, her hand rested against his bicep.

“I don’t think that of you anymore, just to clarify. It was before when I was still mad at you. I’m sorry. You’re perfectly normal according to the DSM-5.” She assured giving him a small, reassuring squeeze and he grinned.

“Yeah, thank you for stating the obvious.” He chuckled as her hand started to slip away from him and he grabbed it in his, which made her look up into his eyes. Her heart rate starting speeding up as her eyes met his own before he glanced down at her hand, “This is nice.” He said to her as his thumb grazed over the sunburst ring on her middle finger. She looked down as well and felt her tummy flutter at his innocent, but very intimate gesture.

“Thank you. My sister gave it to me.” She replied, her hand still in his. He hadn’t made a move to let go and she hadn’t made a move to pull her hand away from his either, so their eyes met again as their hands came down, still connected by their middle fingers being hooked together. The tension and electricity buzzing between them was extremely obvious.

“It’s gonna be weird not seeing you guys every day.” He said to her and she smiled.

“Yeah…everyone’ll miss you, if that’s any consolation.” She said with a small smile and he smiled down at the ground and asked his question before he could talk himself out of it.

“What about you? Are you gonna miss me too?” He inquired before looking back into her eyes and she smiled bashfully.

“Gee, I don’t know…what do you think?” She asked playfully and he chuckled.

“I mean can you blame me for asking? Your messages and feelings towards me are kind of hard to read.” He said and she hummed as she bit her lip pensively and then glanced up to his eyes before placing her hands on chest and tiptoeing to graze her lips over his. Her eyes flickered up to his.

“Does this clear things up for you?” She asked with a soft smile and he smirked.

“Ummm, it’s still a little murky.” He teased.

“Oh yeah?” she responded quietly and he hummed teasingly, “Let me make it clearer then.” She whispered before pressing her lips to his. His hands immediately found their place at her waist as hers slithered up to loop around his neck. Their soft and playful kisses soon turned into languid and hungrier kisses as the seconds passed them by in their dark little hiding place.

Harry now had Y/N up against the wall with one hand around the back of her neck and the other against the wall as he sank his teeth into her bottom lip before sliding his tongue in against her own. Her beautiful, breathy moan made his ears perk up and ring. It was such a beautiful and sensual sound, he wanted to put it on a track; layer it in somewhere and commemorate it as the beautiful and artistic sound it was. Her index fingers were hooked into his trouser’s belt loops, keeping him as physically close as she could. She wanted to disappear into the night with him and see where they ended up. The tension between them had been building for months and well, they hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks after they finished production on the album, so she assumed that the tension would dissipate with time. But she was discovering that hadn’t affected her longing for him, not even a little bit. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asked her quietly, and admittedly with a smidge of uncertainty, as his nose skimmed down the length of hers in a delicate and playful gesture.

“Yeah.” She whispered and nodded her head in a double confirmation to him that she wanted to be alone with him.

“Alright.” He smiled against her mouth and she smiled as well before he grabbed her hand and pulled her around the building towards where he parked. He was given a spot right out back instead of having to valet, which would be a waste of precious time with her. So they hurried around to the back and they got inside and took off. He was in his classic, white Mercedes with the top down, so when they were leaving, they were inevitably papped. And as much as she tried to keep her head down to avoid being recognized as the woman in his car any comparison in outfit would easily prove that she had in fact left her own launch party with Harry, her producer.

“God, they’re everywhere!” Y/N griped as they finally got on the main street and were stopped at the traffic light.

“And there’s more.” He said to her as he cocked his head to the people who had followed them on the sidewalk up to the light and were snapping pictures of them in the car.

“Jesus.” She huffed.

“Wait, where’s your stuff?”

“Oh I didn’t bring anything with me, just myself.”

“Not even your wallet or phone?”

“No, I mean, food and drink were provided and every person that I would be texting was there tonight.”

“Richard forbid you from bringing your phone, didn’t he?” Harry asked with a smirk and she sighed.

“OK, yes, he did…he said something about me sulking in the corner all the time or whatever.”

“You do look very unapproachable when you’re on your phone. You’ve got this like…broody, angry face going on.” He said trying to mimic it and she laughed loudly before they took off as the light turned green.

“That’s not my angry face, if anyone should be familiar with my angry face it’s you.” She reminded and he chuckled, “S’my concentration face. Like sometimes I get ideas and I start writing them in my notes or other times I’m reading a book or an article and it’s like so loud that it takes extra willingness to concentrate.” She explained and he smiled at her.

“Well maybe don’t read at parties.” He suggested and she glanced at him incredulously.

“If I don’t read at parties how will I maintain my reputation as mysterious and elusive, Harry?” She asked jokingly and he grinned.

“You’re so annoying.” He muttered as she giggled beside him.

“So where are we going?” She finally asked and he turned to her.

“Ummm, wherever you want to go.” He shrugged and she hummed pensively.

“Take me to…a place that means a lot to you.” She said and he chuckled.

“Here?!” He asked and she nodded, “God...this is my home, tons of places mean a lot to me.” He chuckled as he thought about it, “OK, I’ve got it. Hang on!” He warned with a big smile as he sped up and just made it onto the 405-S ramp. 

Y/N’s hair was whipping back with the wind as they sped down the freeway. He was blasting Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac which made her feel like she was the main character because before he played it he said it was dedicated to her elusiveness and mysteriousness, which she appreciated. Soon he was signaling to get off on La Cienega and as they continued driving down the street she saw the giant Randy’s Donut donut and she gasped.

“You know, I’ve  never actually been here before! Is this where we’re going?” She asked happily and he chuckled.

“It’s not, but we can stop if you want?”

“It’s alright.”

“You sounded so excited, like you wanted to stop. So I’m gonna stop.” He said as he started to slow down as they approached the entrance and she smiled at him.

“Well, if you insist…” she hummed and he chuckled. They found a spot to park and walked over to the window. It was 10pm but there were still a few people in line waiting to be served.  “What do you get?” She asked him.

“Usually the maple raised, wheat and honey cake, or the red velvet one if I’m feeling particularly fancy.” He said to her and she smiled.

“That does sound good…” she said as she peeked around a few people to get a better look at the menu displayed on a big screen inside. “They have a fruity pebbles one.” She gasped.

“Such a child.” He joked.

“I didn’t say I was going to get it. Fruity pebbles are just super nostalgic and they smell amazing.” She defended.

“That’s true, they do smell divine…”

“Oh, they have blueberry…that’s it. That’s the one I want.”

“OK.” He chuckled. 

As they stood in line Harry couldn’t help but notice that a few guys in the other line were ogling her a bit too much for his liking. They were obviously young since they were being obnoxious and loud, trying to get her to turn around, but she didn’t seem to be taking the bait. He leaned in closer to her and grabbed her hand, which caught her by surprise and she glanced up to him and he smiled down at her. 

“Is this OK?” He asked her lowly and she nodded as she scooted a little closer to him as a light breeze blew over them and made her shiver. She was in a thin little party dress and her platform boots and the night was only getting colder, they were due for more rain over the weekend. He wasn’t even wearing a jacket he could offer her so he just pulled her in front of him and hugged around her waist. He couldn’t help but smile as her hands came up to his and she slotted her fingers in between his. She smiled as his warmth pressed into her back  and she just leaned her weight back on him. He leaned down a bit to reach her ear before he spoke, “That’s what I mean when I said people are always trying to impress you.” He said quietly and her body shook with a giggle.

“How is being obnoxious impressive?”

“I literally have no idea.” He chuckled as they moved up in the line.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” They heard from beside them and turned to see a younger girl and her friend standing a few feet away, “We really like your album.” One of the girls said with a nervous smile.

“Oh! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it.” Y/N smiled happily, but she kept her voice down as Harry let her go so she could talk to the girls who started gushing about how pretty she looked. Which they were right, she looked beautiful. 

Well, to Harry she always did, but she did just a little bit more when she had events and things to do. Often times he felt that when people did themselves up for events they went so overboard that they barely even looked like themselves, but not Y/N. She had mastered this effortless look that proved that a little goes a long way; she was almost ethereal. He liked that she didn’t care to hire a glam team to turn her into another Hollywood starlet clone; she and the rest of the band did most of their looks themselves. He recalls that at the BRITS earlier in the year she was crammed between him and Kassie, smearing some eyeshadow onto her eyelids and getting on her mascara just minutes before they would have to walk the carpet. Witnessing that made him like her even more. That was what drew him to them in the first place, their authenticity, and well if anyone was a champion of unapologetically being your authentic self it was her. She made everyone feel good about exactly who they were and he loved that about her.

“Harry, would you mind taking a picture for us?” She asked him and he shook his head.

“Course not.” He smiled as one of the girls handed over her phone to him. He took several and then handed it back.

“Can we get one with both of you too? You’re like a total icon.” The girl said to Harry and he shook his head bashfully.

“Hardly.” He said to her humbly as Y/N asked the person ahead of them to take their picture. After they got a few pictures the girls said their goodbyes and got back into the line. As soon as she and Harry stepped up he boxed her in between his body and the counter. “Hi, can I get a blueberry cake, red velvet cake, and a…large? Crewneck?” He said to the woman at the window and she nodded.

“What color for the crewneck? We have gray and navy blue.” She said.

“What color?” He asked Y/N softly and she glanced between him and the cashier.

“Oh! For me?”

“Yeah, you’re shivering and I don’t have anything in my car.” He said to her and she smiled at him.

“Ummm, I’ll get the gray one.” She said to the woman who nodded and then gave them the total before rushing off to grab their stuff. “I’m paying you back.”

“Absolutely not. This is your first time here, so think of it as a commemoration gift.” He said to her and she shook her head. “And if you ever try to pay me back I will return it to you in pennies.” He said and she laughed as she shook her head.

“You’re something else.”

“I know, love. I know.” He hummed.

“Here you are!” The woman said as she returned with the sweater and a baggy with their donuts.

“Thank you!” He and Y/N said simultaneously before walking off to the side. “Gimme these.” Harry said grabbing the donuts from Y/N and he gripped the bag between his teeth as he helped pull the crewneck over her head as she got her arms into the sleeves. Yes, it was oversized on her, but crewnecks were meant to be baggy, they just were. It was a bit long as well, it was a bit shorter on her than the dress she was wearing and it made him wonder what she’d look like in his own clothes. He liked wearing oversized things just as much as everyone else, so he’d imagine that she’d look absolutely swallowed and adorable in his hoodies. They walked back to his car hand in hand before they each had to get into their own sides and as they sat down she turned to him.

“I have to tell you something.” She said and he looked a little bit concerned but nodded, indicating for her to go on. “I really, really love that you don’t open the car door for me.” He looked at her with narrowed eyes, “I swear I’m not being a smart ass or sarcastic. Like when guys do that it just…bothers me because like…. I have functioning arms, you know? Like I can do that myself, I don’t need help! And it’s not like one of those general polite things, like holding the door open for someone who’s behind you! Like that makes sense, because it’s more than one person coming through the door! But in the car only one person can get into the passenger side so why does someone else even think to touch my door?” She asked and he chuckled.

“I can see you’re very passionate about this.” He grinned and she sighed and nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I am…for some weird reason. It’s just relieving and it just might be by favorite thing about you.” She decided and he grinned.

“Seriously? My unwillingness to participate in benevolent sexism is your favorite thing about me?” He asked for clarification and she smiled.

“Yes.” 

“It can’t be anything else?” He asked and she rolled her eyes up as she hummed pensively.

“Mmmm… no. That’s it.” She confirmed and he chuckled.

“I’ll check again at the end of the night if that’s your favorite thing about me.” He said smugly and she turned to him with a grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What are you insinuating?” She questioned and he smirked.

“You’ll see…” he hummed as he started the car and they took off. They only drove a few more minutes before Y/N saw the Sizzler’s on her left and then the Forum right up ahead. “Oh…interesting.” She said and he smiled at her.

“Yeah.” He said to her and she hummed, really anxious now to see why this particular place meant a lot to him. They kept driving straight and went around the back of the lot and he wheeled to a stop. It was desolate tonight, which was rare. He put the car in park and she turned to him and he smiled.

“So when I was 14 we came here on a family vacation. Like my parents and sister and aunt and uncle cousins…I’m the baby of the family by the way.” He disclosed and she smiled as he shared this, “So…my oldest cousin discovered that Coldplay had a show and he’d missed their show in England and he wanted to go. My sister was also a fan and I mean, I was too.”

“Yeah, it’s Coldplay!” Y/N said and he chuckled.

“Exactly! So my cousin convinced the adults to let us get tickets, they didn’t want to bring me along because I was the youngest, but I wanted to go. Anyway, saw Coldplay, my first concert ever.” He said and she smiled, “And afterwards we were waiting to get picked up, but my stepdad got lost and ended up going another way so we were just hanging out, right over there because it was well lit.” He pointed to where the trailers and trucks were usually set up, “My cousin and sister went up to see the merch and I just waited there, with my other cousin like they told me to.” He recalled, “And then out of nowhere a couple girls started panicking and Chris and Will walk on over to say hello.”

“No way!” Y/N giggled with surprise and he nodded.

“Yeah! And he was so kind to everyone. I didn’t have anything with me to get a photo or an autograph. But I was the only child there so he gravitated my way, asked where I was from and he was happy to hear that we were from England. And me being the brazen kid I was, I told him I also sang and wanted to start a band with my friends from school, like they did. And he told me that he was rooting for me, to believe in my music, and to never give up on my music. And…so I never did.” He finished his story and she was smiling so brightly. His story was so wholesome it made her eyes well up, that was so beautiful! What an experience to have with someone.

“That’s so amazing, Harry. Like so fucking cool!” She said with excitement and he hummed and nodded.

“I got really lucky that night.” He said softly “And well, whenever I get stuck or feel insecure or like I’m losing my touch I come here and it reminds me to never give up on my music. To continue believing in myself…so that’s why this place means a lot to me.”

“And well, you’ve produced for Coldplay now. Did he remember you?” She asked and he chuckled.

“He kind of did, mostly because I was a British child at one of their LA shows.” He said as they laughed softly, “He didn’t remember what we had spoken about or anything specific. And I did tell him and thank him because, if he hadn’t said that to me I’d definitely be in a whole other world, you know? It was cool and so fucking unreal for someone like me to have that full circle moment that so many people never get.” He expressed and she nodded, “And you know, those of us that get to spend our lives drowning in our passion, making art, literally getting paid to live and experience the best life has to offer just so that we can commemorate it with our art…like we’re so fortunate and so fucking lucky. It’s hard to remember that sometimes with the dark sides of this industry or even just the fame. But this is the best thing that will ever happen to you, Y/N. And what you do now that you have this platform matters more than ever. And that’s why I like you and the band, you guys are so down to earth, you’re in it for the art, you’re in it to have fun, you’re all so genuine and yourselves…never change that. Because as long as you stay in tune with yourself, even when you get stuck or feel like giving up, you’ll find your way back.” He said with certainty. And as he looked back to her she was watching him intently and then nodded in understanding at what he’d just advised. “Sorry, that got super deep, super fast-”

“It’s alright. I mean, we were bound to get deep when I asked you to bring me someplace meaningful to you.” She said and he shrugged and smiled.

“True…”

“And I know that I’ve got this like look about me that screams “I learn on my own” and “I don’t care what anyone says”, but it’s just that, a look. I promise that after the whole thing with Dr. Auclair I started taking in and listening and considering everything you’ve said to me. So I just want you to know that I listened to what you’ve just said to me, and thank you because after feeling so overwhelmed by everything tonight I just… I really needed to hear that. And I’m not going to forget it.” She shared and he smiled as he reached for her hand she smiled as he slotted their fingers together. “H, hand me the aux.” she said and he grabbed his phone and gave it over and she turned the phone away from him to type something out and then she locked it before grabbing his hand again and second later “Champion of the World” started to play over the car’s speaker and he smiled down at his lap before turning his head to look at her.

“Nice one.” He said softly and she smiled brightly at him. She was in love with the way he was looking at her in this moment. Her smile slowly started to fade as she just took him in intently. She was memorizing the details of his perfectly sculpted face, memorizing the indecipherable feeling he was emitting through his eyes. Whatever it was, it was undoubtedly a good feeling. She started to lean in and he joined her in the middle as their lips met with blazing passion as these big, beautiful emotions surged through and between them. “Do…” he paused as his lips smashed into hers once more, “d’you wanna…go back t’mine?” He rushed out with his exhale before their lips met again. He felt her nod ‘yes’ but he wanted to hear her say it. He need to, so that he knew for a fact that he wasn’t imaging that Y/N, this marvelous and radiant person, wanted him too. “Hmmm?” He insisted.

“Yeah.” She mumbled, “Take me home.” She said quietly. It was so hard to tear away from her after she said that to him.

It was just a 20 minute drive to his house in the hills and the whole time they held hands. Once they got there they wasted no time in getting inside and to his bedroom. They were undressing on the way there. It was giggly and clumsy because for some reason she was leading while Harry called out directions to her, but her unfamiliarity with his space was showing as she bumped into things along the way. When she finally got to his room he picked her up from behind and flung her onto his bed. She shrieked as she landed on the mattress with a muted thump. Harry soon climbed over her and kissed her through his smile.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He hummed into her lips and she smiled. “I can’t get over it.” He exhaled before they started making out again. 

Y/N whimpered as his erection rubbed over her dribbling pussy. Well, over her panties, but she was so sensitive that he might as well have been rubbing himself bare through her folds. A wave of warmth pulsed through her body as his lips moved down her neck. She arched her back as he started to snake his hands under to get her bra unclasped. He did so quickly and dexterously before pulled it away from her body and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She hummed with pleasure as the other was fondled with intent. He wasn’t being delicate with her and she loved that. 

“Oh fuck…” she chuckled as he bit down on her nipple for a few seconds before sucking it hard. She was so wet for him that she was squirming as her cunt throbbed and pulse with need, “Harry. Harry, please.” She keened as she tried to find his hips with her own, “Need you inside. I need to feel you so bad.” She muttered into the dark as he sucked his mark on her breasts.

“Need me, baby?” He asked her before continuing to kiss down her body.

“Yes. Yes, I need you so bad…fuck.” She groaned as he kissed over her clothed cunt. He patted her thigh and she lifted her bum and he dragged her panties down her legs as he kissed right over her clit before licking through her slit and flicking her little bud a few times. “Harry, fuck that’s so good!” She whimpered. His licks started getting heavier and languid, sloppier even. She could feel his stubble and mustache tickling her already hypersensitive pussy as he moved his head from side to side with intent. Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair as she thrusted up to his mouth, grinding herself against him. She noticed that he grew more whiny and vocal as she used him and tugged at his hair and it made her even more aroused.

“You like when I use you to get off?” She asked and his lips turned up in a smile as his eyes fluttered up to hers, “I’ll take that as a yes.” She hummed before biting her lip and moaning, “Fuck, that’s perfect!” She praised him as he sucked her clit, brushing his tongue over it each time he’d suck it in, “Fuck…” She sighed with a smile, “y’suck my clit so good.” She panted as her tummy tightened deliciously with pleasure, “You’re gonna make me come!” She whimpered and he moaned against her, causing her toes to curl as her walls started to pulse hard and fast as she vibrated from the inside out. “Oh fuck!” She shrieked as Harry sunk two fingers into her without a warning and started to fuck her in time with his sucks on her clit. Not slowing down for a moment as she started to come.

Her hips wriggled around and her back arched as she trembled as he pulled yet another orgasm out of her without even letting her come down form the first one. Her ears were ringing and she was covered in goosebumps as the waves of pleasure rippled through her. Finally he started to slow down and then gently eased his fingers out of her.

“Taste so good, baby.” He hummed against her mound before kissing and crawling back up to her mouth. As soon as he was within reach she crashed her mouth onto his.

“That was the best head…holy fucking shit. That thing you did with the sucking and the tongue?!” She expressed with a bewildered smile.

“Enough to update your favorite thing about me?” He asked with a grin and she hummed pensively.

“I think not.” She said and he chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re such a turd.”

“Thank you.” She grinned and he chuckled. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I like still want to have sex with you. Like really badly.” She said and his eyes widened as he chuckled.

“Yeah, ummm, sorry I was just giving you a little break.” 

“I don’t take breaks.” She hummed as he leaned over to grab a condom from his bedside table.

“Well, good to know.” He smirked as he knelt up to get it on himself as she repositioned herself against his pillows. Watching him roll down the condom with lustful eyes and a kiss-bitten lip held down beneath her teeth. He was so fucking perfect that it was almost physically painful. And well, Y/N could admit that he was also perfect inside, like where it counted. She pressed herself to sit up and pushed herself up to pull his head down to meet him in a deep and searing kiss. He let himself fall into it and continued his task blindly. When he shifted above her she laid back down as he guided his cock down to her entrance where he gently prodded at her leaking and tight little hole a handful of times before he surged into her. His thick cock pushed her walls apart as he glided in, in one fluid motion.

“Harry!” She gasped, back arched and body tense as he plunged in to the hilt with very little resistance, “Mmmmm you’re so deep!” She whimpered lowly.

“S’that where you wanted to feel me, baby? Are you getting what you wanted? What you need from me?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yes, Harry…” she sang breathily as he started to pulse his hips, his tip nudged into her g-spot over and over and over, her breath was hitching and her legs trembling.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing so hard…” he hummed in delight, “Come for me, baby. Cream on my cock.” He panted and she moaned loudly at his filthy words as she came undone. She was coming so hard, she’d never had an orgasm solely from having her g-spot stimulated, it was game changing. A pressure had formed inside of her that she had never felt before, but it was as he had said, that’s exactly where it ached for him and he was satiating that perfectly.

His thrusts slowed down as she settled from her orgasm, but he kept going, slow and deep, not really letting the entire feeling fade. Extending and milking the pleasure for her as far as humanly possible. And it was happening as he groaned and picked up his pace. When he started going he knocked his head back and grunted with each deep pump of his cock into her. She was so wet, the sounds of her arousal sopping her up for him were unreal, she’d never been that wet before. She was certain of it. 

“I’m so close. Getting so close.” He groaned lowly as his hips started to snap harder with each dip into her pussy. One of his hands slid up from her waist to her breast, kneading it and playing with it as he brought them both closer and closer to the final orgasm. She was a fucking goddess, he wanted to obsess over her until he had learned every single detail of who she was. “Fuck, rub your little clit. Want you to come with me.” He said and she immediately did as he said. Her orgasm started to build at double speed than before. She was quickly right on the edge with him, holding on just a little bit more, trying to get the most out of this moment together until their bodies demanded their climax. “Oh shit…oh…oh… fuuuuuck.” He grunted before he started to moan as his orgasm overcame him. His desperate thrusts and gorgeous sounds pushed her over the edge. The fact that he was vocal enhanced everything for her, it brought a feeling of pleasure to her that she’d never experienced. As they lay there in satisfaction, recovering from those incredible, earth shattering orgasms she spoke up.

“I like that you’re not shy with your sounds. It’s really attractive.” She hummed as she ran her finger nails down his arm that was draped over her body.

“You know, I usually am more of a heavy breathing kind of guy. But with you being how you are, I don’t know, I just felt like I didn’t have to hold anything I felt back.” He said and she smiled.

“Yeah…you can, do that with me, you know? For like anything you need…Not hold back I mean.” She added, “You can not “hold back” with me anytime and for anything.” She rephrased and he was just smirking as she tried to un-confuse herself. She only stopped when she felt his body shaking before he burst into laughter.

“I got what you meant the first time, baby.” He assured and she shook her head as she laughed. “And I want that for you too. To not hold back with me.”

“OK. I won’t.” She smiled as she confirmed this to him.

After that night everything between Y/N and Harry changed. Any rational human would think that falling in love after one night together was completely insane, but that’s exactly what had happened. The two spent time together every single day up until the day Y/N and her band left for tour. With his newfound time alone he decided to follow through with auditioning for that film he was asked to compose for and after a few nerve-racking weeks he’d found out he’d gotten the part. Obviously, Y/N was happy for him and they celebrated over FaceTime. But now that he had a new gig he needed to just take some time to get the compositions together. 

Harry worked diligently on the film score for three months. He only needed 4 pieces as there would be other songs weaved through out the film. And then it was off to filming. Filming was in Canada and that went on for 8 months. Y/N had been able to visit after the band’s tour ended, but it was just for two weeks as they were heading back into the studio soon. And just like that it had been a year apart. Because he was working on his film, he couldn’t produce their next album, though during their down time over the next holiday he did give it a listen and share some insights with her. And then the following March he got some bad news from back home about his father and he headed back for a few weeks. 

When he returned he was really upset about it, but he had solely come to break up with Y/N. His dad didn’t have very long apparently and he’d been away for so long that he decided that he needed to be there with him for as long as he could. He was going to look after him until the end. And well, Y/N completely understood why he wanted and needed to do that. It was sad, but amicable. And for the first few months they continued their routine of chatting regularly, but she soon discovered that it was just prolonging her pain. She wrote a song from it that she called “Good Grief”. It was about grieving the beautiful things, remembering them with love, and simultaneously talking about it being hard to let things like that go. That song launched them into an entirely new era and things took off for the band which ended up putting even more distance between the two. Harry also didn’t move back to LA, so they didn’t even have a chance to easily see each other and with each decision pulling them further apart they inevitably fell out of touch. 

It was three years after their break up now and the two were doing well. Y/N was about to be engaged. Well, she assumed she was. Her boyfriend, Riley had been extra odd all week and her friends and family were oddly unavailable so she was expecting it. Harry had just moved back to LA after all that time, he just needed a change of pace after looking after his dad for one year and then dealing with the aftermath of it all for the next few. He was excited to come back, reconnect with some old friends…and of course, talk to Y/N. He hadn’t moved on, he hadn’t loved anyone like he had loved her and he just wanted to be back in her life, in nay capacity. She was it for him, he knew that for certain.

It was a day like any other, except for one thing…she was craving a donut. But not just any donut, a red velvet donut from Randy’s. She knew it was completely ridiculous to be driving out to Inglewood at 4pm for a donut, but she was alone for the evening and had nothing better to do since apparently everyone in her life was mysteriously busy. She got in line for the drive thru and as she glanced out of her window absentmindedly she saw a very familiar face walking over to the back of the line. She smiled wide and her heart did flips and her stomach fluttered with butterflies at the sight of him. Of seeing him here of all places. Her mind went back to that night he brought her here. How perfectly wonderful that had been.

“Harry!” She shouted out the window and he glanced in her direction and his lips widened in a smile as he waved. “I’m gonna get out!” She shouted and he shot her a thumbs up and got out of the line to meet her where she parked. She rushed out of her car and straight into his arms. He hugged her tight and spun her around as they laughed and greeted each other with enthusiasm. “Wow! How insane to be running into you here!” 

“I know…” he shook his head.

“What brings you to LA?” She asked.

“I’m moving back actually. Just touched down and figured a little detour wouldn’t hurt.” He said and her eyebrows raised.

“Oh, that’s good. It’ll be nice to have you within reach.” She said with a smile and he nodded, “I’m sorry about everything with your dad. I wanted to call or something, but I didn’t know if I even had the right to since we haven’t talked in a long time.” She explained herself. 

“You always have a right, Y/N. Love of my life, remember?” He said and she smiled.

“Light of my life.” She said as she reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. 

They got their donuts and talked for a bit before they headed off. She waited a few days and this intense need to see him again didn’t go away. So she talked to the band about it, they knew each of them the best and well, they all agreed that maybe they needed a better form of closure. So she reached out to Harry and asked him if he wanted to go for lunch. And he accepted, which is what led them to their meet up at Seabird’s Kitchen.

“You look pretty.” He complimented her as he hugged her quickly.

“Thanks. I rushed over from a meeting I had this morning.”

“Ah, work attire.”

“Yeah.” She giggled, “So how are you settling in? Are you back at the old house?” She asked and he shook his head.

“Nah, got something smaller. Got rid of that place a few years back.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know.” She pouted, “So many amazing memories there.” She hummed and Harry nodded. 

“So what’s up?” He asked her and she sighed.

“Well…as you know, what we had together it was…magic. Literally heaven on earth.”

“We were pretty perfect weren’t we?” He smiled fondly and she nodded.

“Yeah…and ummmm, well I’ve never really been able to 100% move on because well…there were just a lot of things left unsaid because we kind of broke up and then you went back home. And I guess I just…didn’t want to talk to you about that when I knew that you were dealing with so much already.” She explained and he hummed. “I guess I just needed closure on a few things because…well, I ummm….” She swallowed thickly, she had no idea why she felt guilty saying this to him, but it just felt wrong to tell Harry this information, it didn’t make any sense, “I think I’m getting engaged really soon.” She said and his eyebrows shot up.

“Oh!” He said and quickly morphed his surprise into a smile instead of the frown that was clawing itself to the surface, “Congrats!” He smiled brightly. He knew that she had a boyfriend…but he doesn’t know why it never felt real to him. Maybe because he hadn’t heard it from her own two lips. Or perhaps because he was far away so it didn’t feel like a reality to him? Who knows, but reality hit him over the head with that one and he could feel his heart breaking over her once again.

“Thank you.” She forced her smile as best as she could. As she looked down at his hand she could very easily picture herself holding it in hers. She could see herself enjoying it and her heart warming as she pictured their fingers interlacing together. As if no time at all had ever passed. It made her feel afraid now as all of it started rushing back to her.

“Hey, are you alright?” Harry asked her and she nodded.

“Yeah, I just got distracted.” She shook her head, “Ummm, well anyway I just wanted to I guess give us the proper goodbye we deserved.” She said and he nodded with a broken heart but he stayed for 3 hours, catching up, joking around, talking, reminiscing until it was time to go. Harry was walking Y/N to her car since she had parked quite far down the street. And when they got to her car she had him hop in so that she could give him a ride back to his car. And they hummed to her music playing from her phone as they made the short drive over, and soon they were just saying their goodbyes. He was hugging her over the console, mentally saying a different kind of goodbye to her that was making his heart wilt in his chest. They were about to pull back when “Champion of the World” started to play and she smiled as she relaxed in his hold before pulling back a bit, their foreheads pressing together and it felt like no time had passed at all.

“We’ve been here before.” He whispered and she hummed in confirmation as her eyes fluttered shut to give herself a moment. This was hurting far more than she expected it to. It felt like they were breaking up all over again and this time it was her choice and he was complacent in her decision. It felt wrong to be saying goodbye to each other twice. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna fall out of love with you.” He said softly and her eyes fluttered open and she slightly frowned as she looked from his eyes to his lips a couple of times before just doing what her intrusive thoughts had been telling her to do since he’d shown up this afternoon. She surged forward and slotted her lips against his. 

Harry didn’t hesitate to kiss back. One deep kiss led them to a stolen peck, then another, and then a deeper kiss, and more and more. It felt like they were kissing to makeup for the three years they hadn’t been able to kiss. There was still so much love between them, Y/N supposes it had just been dormant this entire time he was gone. And she had indeed missed how it felt to be completely and undeniably gone for someone. There wasn’t another thought running through her mind in that moment, so as they pulled away she knew that she was still in love with him. She had been this whole time.

“Fuck…sorry.” He whispered and she shook her head.

“I kissed you, so it’s alright. I’m sorry, if I kissed you and you didn’t want to kiss me.” She apologized.

“I’d never not want to kiss you.” He chuckled and she smiled with a heat in her cheeks from his flirtations. “Do you regret it yet?” He asked teasingly and she shook her head, but she wasn’t smiling. She was completely serious.

“I can’t regret anything that happens between us. It’s just a proper goodbye, yeah?” She said sadly and he nodded wordlessly.

“Hey, you better invite me to the wedding. Just because it’s not me, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there or that I’m not happy for you. OK?”

“OK.” She smiled and with that he got out and they went their separate ways.

She cried the entire way home and she felt completely heart broken. Like she had lost him all over again and she couldn’t be getting married to someone when she was in love with someone who wasn’t the person she was supposed to marry.  She was so absolutely confused and it was affecting her work horribly. They were in the middle of some writing sessions for their next album and she was not being even a little bit helpful. Her mind was elsewhere. And it was like that for two whole weeks and everyone was fed up with her. 

“Dude what is wrong with you?” Kassie asked her and she groaned.

“I don’t know…I’m really distracted.” She fibbed and everyone sighed, “I just…can’t do this today. Sorry, guys.” She said before gathering her things and heading out. When she got to her apartment Riley was there  making dinner and it made her heart sad that it wasn’t Harry.

“Hey, love!” He smiled and the smile faded as soon as he saw her face.

“Ummm, he’s back. And I asked to see him.” She said to Riley who sighed. He had been there through the entire break up, between her and Harry. At the time he was a session musician who’d been hired to play on one of their songs. But he was so nice and thoughtful. But he also knew the love that she and Harry shared for each other. In a way he always expected their paths to cross again, but he’d just hoped that it wouldn’t affect her. But he still did, in every way apparently.

“When are you seeing him?”

“It was two weeks ago.” She said and he nodded. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I was just hoping to get some closure on some stuff. But then I…I realized that I’m still in love with him. And I kissed him.” She confessed everything, “I’m really sorry.”

“Jesus, Y/N.” Riley said with disappointment.

“I know…I should’ve told you right away but I was trying to figure out what I should do.”

“There’s only one thing to do, Y/N. You said you’re in love with him.” Riley shook his head, “You know, I always knew this would happen some day.” He said lowly, “I was stupid for thinking you’d pick me though.” He said as he made his way towards the couch and grabbed his sweater and he furiously slipped into his sneakers, “Please, don’t call me when this all blows up in your face.” He said with spite before he slammed the door hard on his way out. 

She frowned, obviously she deserved that, but he was a good guy. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he just….wasn’t the love of her life. Maybe she was foolish for thinking that things could start back up with Harry. Well, it’d been a few years, they’d been through plenty of things on their own, it was safe to say that they were pretty different people now. But the way things felt were exactly the same, it wasn’t just nostalgia. Being with him made her feel alive and in control and like everything would be alright. She was a bit stuck with her next step, as she weighed out her options. She sighed and decided to take a drive to the place that always helped her think.

The sun was setting as she placed her hands on the white rails of the Forum parking lot. After Harry left she’d made it her special place to come think. He had given this place a new meaning to her and it felt like the best place to decide on whether that goodbye they had was the final one or if she should give in to her desires and go after him. She stood there for a few minutes, just the sounds of the city around her.

“Why am I not surprised to see you here?” She heard and turned around to see Harry in his shorts and hoodie, smiling brightly and she smiled back.

“What brings you here?” She asked.

“Feeling a bit stuck…And you?”

“Same.” She responded. They were quiet for a little bit before she spoke up, “I think we’re feeling stuck over the same thing.” She said to him and he glanced to her, his eyes soft as he looked over to her.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Whether it’s too late for us or not.” She said softly and he hummed as he looked at her.

“Well what do you think?” He asked and she bit her lip.

“I told Riley we kissed…he told me not to call him.” She said and he frowned.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” She said softly and he glanced up into her eyes with a gleam of hope, “I’ve been in love with you this whole time. Waiting for you. I want us back. I-if you’ll still have me.” She offered a hopeful smile and he grabbed her face and leaned in to kiss her.

“Course I’ll have you.” He hummed with a smile, “You’re the love of my life.” He said softly and she smiled against his lips.

“And you’re the light of my life.” 

As always, all feedback is appreciated!

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[teyamsatan]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝟙 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀: 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕝𝕝 𝔹𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕐𝕠𝕦

pairing: Neteyam x f!Human/Avatar Reader

warnings: angst, tragic love trope, the one that got away trope, some fluff, all the feels

wc: 7k words

a/n: surprise??? besties it's been too long, i know, but i hope you enjoy chapter 2 of the 1 x anyone who follows me knows how much this story means to me, and it felt so good to be able to visit it and be inspired for it again. i promise it will absolutely not be as long between this chapter and the next x i can't wait to hear your thoughts! i love you x

to clarify: this series will be following oceans and engines mostly, but both endings will make and appearance and play a part in this story x smooches x

♥ series masterlist ♥ cruel summer ♥ series playlist ♥ masterlist

Honey, when I’m above the trees, I see this for what it is But now I’m right down in it, All the years I’ve given Is just shit we’re dividing up

Neteyam let out a quiet chuckle as his gaze fell onto your unconscious form, splayed limbs over your head and over the edge of the bed, peaceful look on your face as deep slumber still washed over you, even as eclipse has been gone for quite a while. He made his way to the window, where the blinds were drawn, pulled them apart, and watched in shock as that didn’t even begin to wake you. You and Neteyam shared a lot of traits, a lot of similarities bound you together, but your sleeping habits were definitely not one of them.

Amused, he decided to take a different approach, as he got on top of you and started trailing small, peppered kisses over your chest and neck, over your jaw and face, until eventually your eyes fluttered open and widened momentarily as you adjusted to the unexpected scene, until they melted in the mischievous, loving gaze Neteyam knew so well and loved so much.

“This is one way to wake up, I suppose.”

“A good way?”

Your lips met in a kiss, soft and intimate, not at all resembling the boundaries both of you were supposed to abide by, and right in this moment, it didn’t seem either of you particularly cared.

“The best way.”

You thought about it for a second longer, then pursed your lips in mock deliberation.

“Actually, there was another time you woke me up in an even more… pleasurable way, and I can’t say I’d object if you ever wanted to do that again.”

The memory of that morning made blood travel down south as quickly as it took for you to say the words, and he growled in your neck as his canines grazed it, as he watched you shudder under him, as he smelled your sweet aroma filling up the air he breathed.

“Vol, you have to stop talking if you want to get out of this room today.”

Neteyam could hear the smirk in your voice as you spoke.

“Who says I want to get out of this room today?”

“I do, because I want to show you something.”

Showed you all of my hiding spots I was dancing when the music stopped And in the disbelief, I can’t face reinvention I haven’t met the new me yet

Neteyam watched the door of your bathroom, intently listening for the constant hum of the shower to see if he could hear you, as if maybe by listening closely enough, he would be able to have a direct stream into your thoughts, the way it felt like he used to back when you were you and he was him and you were… well, whatever you were to each other. He probably shouldn’t have drank as much as he did - not enough to be fully intoxicated, but enough to know the filter between his mouth and brain was shaky at best, completely gone at worst, and very little good could come out of it. He knew all of that and yet, here he was, unable to stop his feet from moving to the labs, as soon as he felt like he could do so without attracting attention to himself. It was late, and most people were off to bed, so it wasn’t hard to do, even in this small settlement deep in the mountains the Omaticaya were forced to now call home.

When it became clear your thoughts would never make themselves known through the wall, his eyes wandered around, taking in every nook and cranny of this room that was an exact replica of the one you lived in all your life back in Hell’s Gate. He appreciated the humans for how much they cared for you, how much they were intent on making this little corner of the planet as homely for you as humanly possible. This room was loved and lived in; there were stains on the desk, crinkles on the chair, cracks in the walls… there were books and record players, pillows and comforters, plushies and knick knacks that Neteyam knew by heart, that screamed of you and the life you lived, that although not what you wanted or what you truly deserved, shone brightly all around you and illuminated even the darkest corners of the world.

Something caught the corner of his eyes, one of the few things he’s never seen before. A box, hidden deep in the corner beneath your desk, with a neat little label on it that said simply “Neteyam’s box. Do not open!”. If it was any other day, or any other circumstance, if his mind wasn’t clouded with the heady concoction that was way stronger than he remembered and probably the reason humans were as mindless as they were to begin with, he would have heeded the warning clearly showcased on the rectangular enclosure. But it was today, and it was these circumstances and he was intoxicated, so without dwelling on all the reasons he probably shouldn’t, he found himself reaching for it.

It was tiny in his hands, so tiny, it was hard to understand that something this small and this seemingly harmless could knock the breath out of his lungs with enough power to overcome and vanquish whatever self-control he still possessed. So many memories, all fighting for dominion over his consciousness, all painful enough to open every stitch his body’s been working so hard to craft in order to heal him. One memory in particular clearly won, one that’s already been percolating in his mind today, but now was all he could think of anymore. The keepsake he associated with it was missing from the box, which ironically made it stand out even more.

There’ll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you Both of these things can be true There is happiness

“Mmm.. intrigue. The Omaticayan prince wants to show me something, I guess I have to oblige then.” At the roll of his eyes, you laugh and pull him by the back of the neck until your lips meet again. In these moments, it was easy to forget the reality of your circumstances, the impossibility of your relationship, the hidden aspect to it that made it so no one would ever be allowed to find out.

It’s only been a couple of months since your 19th birthday, and somehow, each day got better. Each day was a reminder that he was the best person that has ever lived, the man of your dreams, the most empathetic, unintentionally charismatic, intelligent, funniest, most beautiful person you knew… each day a dream, until the inevitable forced wake-up call that he’ll never be yours, as soon as you had to pretend in the village, in Hell’s Gate, as you had to watch the matriarchs search for an appropriate mate for him and know there was nothing you could do to stop it.

He wasn't yours to lose. Not in the way you wanted him to be, not in the way you needed him to be. You tried to push the ugly thoughts from your mind as you felt him burying his head in your neck, just breathing you in. It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. No matter what happened, no one would ever know him like you did, no one would ever be able to understand every nook and cranny of his soul the way you were able to. No matter what happened, he was yours right now. While you still had this, he will always be yours. While you could feel his heartbeat in your chest as he lay on top of you, while your body was moulded by his own and your lips knew to recite each one of his freckles like a prayer, he’ll always be yours.

“You’re not as cute as you think you are, you know?” You snicker at his words, that you may believe if it wasn’t for the way he was almost purring under your touch, or the way he was fully sunk into your body, or the way you could tell he was smiling as he said them.

“Ha! 18 years of you falling for my every whim suggests otherwise, Teyam. Now scoot, if you want me to get ready.”

“So where are we going?” fastening your oxygen mask until it clicked, you made your way out of the living headquarters and were taken aback to see Seze waiting, her soft trills greeting you as she approached, her big frame almost knocking you down as she bumped her snout into your face. “Hey, girl. What are you doing here?”

You yelped slightly as Neteyam took you by the armpits and lifted you so you could mount the banshee easier, before getting on behind you and making tsaheylu, an arm fastened across your chest, pulling you tightly into his own, keeping you close to him. You’ve done this so many times in the 6 years since Neteyam passed his Iknimaya, and despite it all, it never stopped feeling magical, and fantastical and wondrous to you, like it was almost unfair that a mere human could experience such emotions and views, such exhilaration and freedom. You wished your whole life you could one day have your own ikran and really experience it the way one was meant to, but you were grateful for whatever moment you did get, and grateful for Neteyam for always being willing to share these things with you.

“You know the drill, ma Vol. You have to ho-“

“-hold onto you like I’ll never let you go again. I know.” This saying, that he said his father told him on his first ikran ride as a child, became almost a mantra in your life, with every moment you spent in his presence.

Hold on like you’ll never let me go again.

Past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would’ve loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind

It was painful, the way the hot water was hitting your skin, in droplets that felt like spikes, in touches that felt like stings. Your mind was scattered after the momentous day that tried you, one which you never expected to live through again.

Neteyam… your ‘Teyam… someone else’s Neteyam. Different, so different and yet… still him. Painfully so. You hoped for more, more of a change, more of a departure - you hoped for a stranger, that could allow you to forget that the person you were looking at, despite adorning some new tattoos and a different hairstyle, was the man who knew you, down to the darkest, most intimate corners of your mind. You hoped that when you looked in his eyes, you wouldn’t see the stars be born and die, you wouldn’t see 21 years of your own life and the life you shared looking back at you. You hoped his stripes, that you could still feel on your fingerprints and on your tongue, would have shifted and become muted and dull. But none of that was true. Despite everything that stood against you, despite being worlds, galaxies, universes apart, he was still the same Neteyam. The question nagged at you, unwavering and incessant: were you still the same Vol?

You felt goosebumps appear on your skin as soon as you left the confines of the shower behind. Weird - it wasn’t cold, and yet here you were, near shaking, heartbeat caught in your throat in… anticipation? Fear? It was hard to say, but, with a deep sigh, you fastened your towel and opened the door to your bedroom.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as you took in the man sitting on your bed, that was way too big to comfortably fit in your tiny room, not that that’s ever stopped him in all the years you’ve known him. He looked almost out of place here now, so long after the last time, and you winced a little at the contrast between the memories in your mind and what was displayed so clearly in front of you.

“Fuck! Neteyam, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doing here?”

Neteyam looked lost in thought, almost unaware of your presence or your voice, glossy eyes fixed somewhere beneath your desk, on a specific box you wish he never got to see.

“This room hasn’t changed one bit in all this time. It’s so weird. Everything’s changed…” the sigh that tried him felt like it was expelled from deep within his soul, like a sigh he’s been holding for the last year and a half. “Everything… and yet this room, it’s like a portal to the past, like I woke up in a life that feels like a mere dream sometimes.”

You don’t interrupt his musings.

“The sheets, the books, the smell, the way the light flickers sometimes, the way the mattress dips on one side more than the other because you’ve always preferred the left side of the bed, and I always had to sleep on the right, even the broken vase I broke with my tail the night I left. It’s all the same.”

His gaze finally settles on you. He looks pained as he sees you, finally the human he remembers, that he loved. It hurts him being in this room. It hurts you, too. It was your turn to sigh, as you tried to remove the images of the past flashing in front of your eyes like a picture book, and tried to focus on the reality that was still weighing heavily on your heart, no matter how many counterweights you balanced it with.

Your sigh matched his earlier one as you spoke, your eyes darting to the room that you spent less time in with each passing day, that felt as much of a relic of the past as you sometimes felt in his life.

“Yeah. I guess nothing’s changed.”

Tell me, when did your winning smile Begin to look like a smirk? When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

He notices an ornate bow by the foot of the bed, clearly the make of a talented Omaticayan warrior. It annoys him to no end that he can recognise the work easily, having grown up seeing it, having been one of the few that could compare to his. It angers him further just how much the disdain doesn’t seem to want to melt away, regardless of how much he’s told himself to let it go, regardless of how he swore the reason he came here tonight had nothing to do with it. He had no right to pry, not anymore. No right to be jealous… not anymore.

“Well, at least some things have changed…”

You blush, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to start patting your cheeks, that feel like they caught fire.

“Tarsem made it for me. It’s cute.” You didn’t know why, it’s not like you owed him anything, but you couldn’t help the next words, that stumbled unceremoniously out of your mouth in a panicked hurry. You didn’t owe him anything, but you still needed him to know. “And platonic.”

“Yeah, so were we.” The words, and the bitterness in them, so thinly veiled despite what you assumed were his best efforts, shocked you. This wasn’t like Neteyam at all - Neteyam was kind, and careful with his words always, he was considerate and empathetic, and he was never mean, especially not to you. Especially not like this.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and the tears that threatened to spill, leaving his words to hang in the air, making it thick and heavy with heightened emotions you were both trying your best to suppress.

“That’s not fair.”

Another sigh.

“You’re right. It’s not.”

I can’t make it go away by making you a villain I guess it’s the price I pay for seven years in heaven And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night now I get fake niceties

“Are you drunk?” One exhale was enough for the stench of bourbon to hit you like a truck, and all of a sudden, it was clear enough - why he was here, why he was saying these things, why it felt like all the bitterness in his soul, that you assume has been as deeply buried as your own, was coming out in unsightly manners, and you were the one who had to stomach it. You forget, sometimes, it was easy to - that Neteyam suffered as much as you, that he lost just as much as you did, that dreaded July 9th.

When your question was met with silence, you continued.

“Why are you here, Neteyam?”

“I came to see you. The real you. At least while I still get the chance.” His gaze hardens looking at your body. He’s yet to look at your face - whether he doesn’t want to or can’t, you can’t tell. “Grandmother tells me you’re going to go for the consciousness transfer.”

You shift uncomfortably in place. His tone was distant and once more not like the one you loved at all.

“We all are. It’s the only way forward.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes it is.” He scoffs, rolling his beautiful golden eyes, picking a spot on the wall to grimace at.

“I’m not arguing with you on this.”

“Didn’t realise there was anything to argue about.”

“You shouldn’t do it.”

It was your turn to scoff, feeling irate despite your best efforts, despite knowing it was the alcohol talking, despite knowing you should tell him to leave, that nothing productive could possibly come out of this. There was anger in you, you realise - bubbling just beneath the surface, anger you’ve buried so deep, you didn’t even know it was nestled in your soul like a parasite, looming in latency, until it was time to come to light.

“And why the hell not?”

“Because you just shouldn’t.” his glare was harsh as it snapped to finally look at you, melting a little when his eyes found yours, the ones he's loved his whole entire life.

“Oh, I see we’re being mature. I’m doing this, we all are. It’s the only way. End of discussion, Neteyam.”

“… you could die.”

Your eyes widen. There's tears in his eyes, a lump in his throat. You sigh, placated a little by the realisation that all of this, although it could have been done better, was just his way of telling you he’s worried about you. You’re grateful, so grateful, that he still is - worried, that is. Your voice softens a little as you say the next words.

“Or I could finally live.”

“Why take the chance, it makes no sense. Just stay as an Avatar.”

“No. I will never fully live in either of these bodies unless I give one up. I’ve made my decision.”

“It’s a stupid decision. It’s a rash decision.”

“Rash? Are you serious? I’ve had 21 years to make this decision, Neteyam. Twenty-one years of feeling like an outcast, like an alien - of feeling like there’s no place for me in this world. I can finally be one of the people, I can finally have a purpose, and you want me to give that up?”

There was more, so much more - it was a complicated decision, the one you took, and so much thought has gone into it, so many sleepless nights went into this… but how could you say that to him? How can you tell him that he’s part of the reason you need to do this, that you need to be rid of this body, the body he’s known and he’s touched, the body that memorised every ounce of him by heart, that still felt phantom pains from the lack of his fingers on your skin? How can you tell him you will never be free until the body he knew and loved so intimately is gone… forever?

“I hate this body, Neteyam. I hate it. This body is useless, and weak. I have nothing in this body, I lost everything because of it. Everything… You have no fucking idea what it’s like. What any of this is like.” You urged him silently, pleading for him to understand. To stop asking you questions that would dig up a grave long dug and settled, that should remain untouched, that he was unwittingly desecrating. You were scared of what would come out when he did.

“And who does? Tarsem?”

“What?” You couldn’t believe your ears, the spiteful words coming out of Neteyam’s mouth like they were nothing, like it meant nothing when it hurt and burned and ached, when the seams with which you’ve become so acquainted starting splitting with every syllable uttered, when the anger that has been bubbling up in your chest for years, that you didn’t even know you still held onto was threatening to spill and poison this room and all its inhabitants.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Are you actually saying these words out loud? I can’t believe you, Neteyam. So this is what this whole thing is about, huh? You came all this way and act like you’re worried about my safety, about the transfer, when the whole time you were just jealous of Tarsem? Jealous about something that’s not even there? He’s a friend, Neteyam. A friend.”

You’re both shouting at each other, screaming and hoping that will alleviate the pain, that will push the tears back in your tear ducts and not let them spill all over your face. You’re panting, the hurt burning holes in your chest, the anger cauterising them and making you push forward, for another blow, and then another… and then another.

“Wake up, Vol! Are you blind?! He wants you, he wants you to be the next Tsa’hik of the Omaticaya. He’s not nice because you’re such a treat to be around. He’s nice because he wants to fuck you!”

Silence. Silence that deafens, that echoes in your eardrums a lot more than the yells, roaring like a crashing waterfall. Silence. No silence can fix this. Nothing can fix this.

“Get out.”

His eyes are pits of guilt and despair, shock and terror at the words he would have never said out loud normally - you knew that. You knew he regretted them as soon as they came out of his mouth, but you didn’t care. Not right now. Not when he made the last night before your iknimaya, a night you were supposed to rest through so you can face whatever was waiting for you tomorrow, a bad memory that will only bitter with time.

“Vol, I -”

“No. Vol nothing. You don’t get to call me that anymore. That nickname was reserved for the child I grew up with, the teenager who looked out for me, the man who loved me - it’s not for you. You don’t get to come back to my life after so long just so you could try to ruin whatever little happiness I’ve managed to scrounge up from the scraps I was left with. Leave.”

“Please…”

“I don’t know what Tarsem’s intentions are. You’re right. Maybe he really does just want to fuck me. But I realised something, all this time apart. You didn’t fight for me. None of you did. You were my family, all I had, and it took you leaving and him becoming Olo’eyktan to realise I’ve never had a family. It took losing everything to see how little I had to begin with. You could have done something. You could have fought it, you could screamed and shouted at the top of your lungs that you loved me, that what we had mattered more than the clan or your duty, mattered more than controllable and comfortable mirage of peace, but you didn’t. You were ashamed of me, of what we did. It wasn’t enough for you, that I was human. You let me go, you watched me leave, I watched you mate with someone else knowing I will carry these wounds for the rest of my life and I did it with no complaints. I understood you, as much as I could, and I let go of the one love I’ve always wanted to hold on to. You didn’t fight for me. So you don’t get to be jealous. Not anymore. It’s not fair to me, or to you, or to the pregnant mate you’ve left at home.” The door was open now, gripped tightly by your aching hand, the tears falling from your faces and onto the ground the only sound to help the torturous silence left behind by your words, so many of them you’ve needed to say, so many of them you wish you never had to. “Go, Neteyam.”

No one teaches you what to do When a good man hurts you And you know you hurt him, too

The night was painful and never ending, the conversation pulsating in your ears like a terrible migraine. Why did he come back? You were doing well. Well enough. Why did he have to come and ruin whatever little joy you had? Why now, the night before the most important trial of your life, why now, so you can question and overanalyse every little interaction you and Tarsem ever had in order to prove him wrong, when all your mind can do is scour for reasons why he was right. Was he right?

He was right, wasn’t he? Why else would he be so kind to a demon? Why else would he train you, and accept you? Nobody ever had, not fully. Nobody ever had…

“Damn you, Neteyam.”

Honey, when I’m above the trees I see it for what it is But now my eyes leak acid rain On the pillow where you used to lay your head

Eventually, sleep did find you. And in it, so did dreams - memories, as they usually did, at your most vulnerable, nothing but your shaky psyche and a desperate desire to relive your happiest times to stand in their way.

“Why did you make Seze land where she did if you’re gonna make me walk so much?”

With a deep sigh, he stopped in his tracks and kneeled, and you smiled knowingly as you jumped on his back, your chin resting on his shoulder.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“Eh, you’ve always known this about me, Teyam. And you still love me, anyway. What does that say about you, huh?”

“That I can’t resist a pretty face, especially when it’s yours, my Vol.”

Well, that shut you up. Neteyam could always shut you up like this, by saying things you both knew he shouldn’t say, and while you wanted to admonish him, while you wanted to tell him off because this wasn’t helping, this would never help this already convoluted situationship you found yourself in, you couldn’t. Not when your heart was beating out of your chest, not when your blush was so strong it was making you feel like your cheeks caught fire, not when it made you want to scream confessions that have settled in your chest a while ago, that would never see the light of day, as long as you could help it.

He laughed at your silence, and pushed past thick shrubbery to unveil the most beautiful sight you have ever seen.

“Surprise!”

If your heart hadn’t dampened the rest of the world and all its thunderous sounds, you would have noticed the waterfall crashing into the river below, but as it was, the sight laid bare in front of you was, truly, a surprise, and God… what a surprise it was. A sight almost too good to be true, the beauty of it all almost surreal. The cliff was remote and secluded, surrounded by tall colorful plants and hedges - perfect for activities no one should ever be privy to. The backdrop was something out of a fairy tale, down to the fish jumping from the waterfall and straight into the water below, and the rainbow that formed with every blow of the wind. But somehow, even despite every natural advantage that was so graciously displayed almost as if especially for you, still, the thing that made it all feel almost transcendent was just a simple blanket, woven in a pattern you knew was his own, on top of which sat a basket filled to the brim with your favourite fruits and culinary delicacies.

“You know, Teyam…” you chuckle, still taken aback by the gesture, almost chocked up from the love you felt for him, that ran somehow deeper every day. You wondered if there was end to it all, to how much this love will grow, to how much your heart could possibly hold within itself before bursting at the seams. “I was gonna sleep with you anyway, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”

You watched as his head swung backwards as he laughed, nuzzling itself in your belly, his braids tickling your thighs with every inadvertent move. A squeal left your body as his much larger arms reached above him and picked you up, manhandling you like a little doll, until you were on the ground, at the foot of the blanket. He said nothing, but bent down until his lips made contact with the top of your head, the romantic and intimate gesture enough to turn your insides gooey and your brain to mush. His voice was saccharine and velvet smooth when he eventually spoke.

“You look so good - so good - wearing my choker. Now take it all off. I want to see you wear nothing else, my Vol.”

After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now Is the green light of forgiveness

The morning was dragging and slow. Your mind was scattered and numb, perfectly complementing your burning eyes and heavy heart. You were angry, and sad, hopeless and forlorn, all of the things you shouldn’t be on the brink of your iknimaya. You needed your focus and your wits, both of which felt as far away as the ikran rookery you were on your way to.

“Ma Tawtute!”

You cringe at the nickname you’ve become fond of in time, that you hated right now, and the voice that spoke it. You try to no avail to leave, but you’re trapped when he catches you by the hand, willing you in place.

“Let go of me, Tarsem.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

You huff, rolling your eyes and tugging at your trapped wrist.

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I can’t help until I know what it is.”

“Why are you nice to me?” you were angry again, almost eager to be proven right, eager to know for a fact what Neteyam told you was true.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I’m asking. Why? Why are you nice to me? Why do you smile at me, and train me… why are you making the People accept us?

Tarsem looked confused and taken aback at your barrage of questions, at your misplaced anger and your sudden skepticism of his actions. You couldn’t blame him.

“Because… you deserve it. Because if there’s one thing I learnt in time, is that good people, good humans, are hard to come by. And you, and the scientists, Spider… all the people who chose to stay behind in the way so many years ago… you’re it. You are good. You are kind, and knowledgeable, and you have devoted your whole life to the Omaticaya and to this planet, without ever asking for anything in return. The least I can do is make sure you live a life worth remembering, that you receive your well-earned place amongst the People.”

You were so content, so at peace, whenever your head was rested on Neteyam’s chest. You were home in his arms, home when your fingers were free to roam his chest, free to draw the constellations his tanhi made up when connected, free when his breath was fanning over your face with each kiss on your forehead.

“I’m so full.”

“Are you, now?”

“Of food, you freak.”

“Mm, I’m not doing my job well enough then. Guess I just need to try harder.”

You laugh, happiness enveloping like a shroud. You were scared of it, of your next question, but you knew you needed to know.

“Why did you bring me here, Neteyam?”

A shrug. Seemingly nonchalant, but there was purple in his cheeks, a flutter in his heart, loud and booming against your ear.

“It was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and it reminded me of you. Of us. As soon as I found it, I knew this could be it. Our place.”

“Our place.”

Neteyam’s head throbbed painfully, a nefarious mixture between a hangover and guilt making the world spin and his heart ache. Why? Why did he do that, say that? And before your Iknimaya, too. It was an important day, one of the most important days - important enough to determine the rest of your life within the Omaticaya and he managed to ruin it for you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Norm.

“You look like you need this.” Whatever Norm handed him looked like it had already been eaten and thrown up before making its way into his hands, but he accepted it anyway. Norm knew best, and whatever it was, probably was going to help.

“It smells disgusting.”

“It is disgusting. But it will help. The hangover, that is. Everything else, I guess that’s what I’m here for.”

“Listen… I heard you, in her room last night. It was muffled enough, but the walls can only muffle screams so much, you know?”

“I fucked up, Norm. So badly. I said… horrible things to her last night. I was drunk, and sad… I was stupid and jea-“ He catches himself before he can finish, but it was too late.

“Jealous. You can say it, it’s ok.”

“I know… about you two. She told me. So you don’t have to hide. Not with me.”

Neteyam’s eyes go wide at Norm’s words, but he was relieved that he knew - that someone knew. Someone he could talk to. Someone to confess to.

“She’s right. About everything, she was right. I abandoned her. Over and over. I let my mum treat her and Spider like they were pariahs, and stood by as my dad did nothing about it for years. I always thought that’s just how it was always going to be, that nothing I could have done would have prevented it, but I look at her life now, and how Tarsem treats her, and I realise I was wrong. And they were wrong. And we failed her. So many years, my whole life… I failed her.”

Norm sighs, both of them looking at you, talking to Max, who would also be taking his Iknimaya today, smiling and motioning at how you were planning on subduing your ikran. You were lively and animated, but your eyes didn’t reflect it, and Neteyam hurt at the blame he bore for it.

“Kid… you did your best. You both did. And you loved her, and stood by her, even in the face of everything that stood against you. You didn’t fail her. The world did. The world failed you both.”

You haven’t met the new me yet And I think she’ll give you that

It went by in a blur; in a mess of worry and distress. It’s like he blinked and here you were, the first one to go, the first one to succeed. He was so proud of you, prouder than he’s ever been about anything in this life. His heart was beaming with happiness and love, his head swirling with all the way he’s imagined this day in his mind and thought it would never come, but here it was. He was living through it, and had to come to terms with the fact it was never going to be quite how he envisioned. But he still had you, and he still had today. And at least some of it, he felt, could be the same. In his dreams, you passed, and you shared the first flight, and he got to see you fully blossom, the way you deserved, the way he always knew you would. In his dreams, your ikran intertwined in flight, and you spent so much time exploring, laughing, yelling, living. In his dreams, both your ikran perched at the top of the Hallelujah mountain, trilling softly would be the only witnesses to your love, to the way he’d make sure to not let you go until the second he absolutely had to, until you were both spent, looking upwards at the unending and star-filled sky. He would never get that, but your first flight - he still could. He could still be it.

“First fly seals the bond, kid. You gotta go, now!”

You couldn’t believe it. You actually did it. All the training, and the fantasies, all the nights you spent as a little kid imagining what it would be like to actually fly on top of one, all the days you spent on Neteyam’s, while he told you about the bond, while you shed tears from the pain that came with knowing you would never experience it… they all led you to this. This one moment. Your ikran was beautiful, just like you always pictured her to be. She was cooing happily and moving slowly towards the edge of the cliff, almost as if heeding Jake’s words, or itching to further your newfound connection.

For one second, you look backwards, at all the people clapping and beaming with excitement, and your eyes, as they always seemed to, immediately drifted to Neteyam. They filled with tears at his pride, at the way his body radiated it, at the way he called his ikran, undoubtedly just as excited as you to share a moment you’ve always envisioned in dreams and reveries, one that seemed like a rare occasion by which your fairytale ideal life could come true. But your life wasn’t a fairytale - it would never be, it couldn’t be. And that dream, you had to leave behind. That dream, just like everything did when it came to him, speaks to a love long gone, an uncertain future, so much helplessness and hopelessness and dread, so much fleeting happiness that dissipated when reality struck. It speaks to the past, a past neither of you related to anymore.

Another second, for your gaze to reach Tarsem. In him, you saw a future. In it, you saw stability and comfort, a love worth harbouring and cherishing. In it, you saw the Omaticaya, and the forest, a destiny that always seemed out of your reach, but which was now closer than ever. In it, you saw kids, running around, calling you mother. You saw the People, reaching for you for help and guidance, a feather jacket and pilgrimages that would decipher Eywa’s will.

In them, you saw yourself. One one hand, your past self, a human, broken and unmoored, born in a planet that didn’t make accommodations for the likes of her. You saw love that ran so deep it formed endless canyons in the pit of your soul, that emptied when the love was so ruthlessly taken away from you. You saw your mother, wicked and disinterested, and your father, evil and dangerous. On the other, you saw a warrior. Na'vi. Omaticaya, through and through. Tough and seasoned, healed and ready to heal. A mother. A mate.

You were neither of those.

There’ll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you too Both of these things can be true There is happiness in our history

“There’s been talk, you know.”

“Oh?”

“About you.”

“I must be getting pretty good at it, this whole climbing and sneaking thing. I was hanging on an upper branch of a tree back in the village the other day. Managed to somehow catch the end tail of a conversation between a few girls. Didn’t hear me, too busy talking… about you, the Omaticayan Prince.” You snickered at the title, one of many titles reserved for Neteyam alone. You knew he hated it, all of it - the attention, and the pressure, the sacrifices that came with being worthy of all of them.

“Talking about how hot you are, how much they would kill to be the one you get to get take home at night. Theorising about who could it be. Going on and on about how lucky whoever you will choose as a mate will be, how there’s not a single girl in the village that wouldn’t die to have that honour bestowed upon them.“

Neteyam sighed and shrugged, brushing off the comments for only one of his own. “Only one girl I care about.”

You smiled in his chest, abundantly relieved and terrified all at once. This wasn’t good, this was so dangerous, the way he was playing the strings of your heart like he was a world-renowned harpist… but oh, it felt so necessary right now - the validation, the promise that, at least for a while, you still get to keep him just to yourself.

“She’s a lucky girl. Whoever she is.”

“I’m the lucky one. Because she’s… everything. And I work every day, try my hardest every day, to be worthy of her. And I want to make her a promise. For as long as i can help it, I promise I’ll hold on to her like I’ll ne-“

“Never let her go again.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard and hummed approvingly in return. You hoped he couldn’t feel the tears rolling down his side. You hoped he couldn’t tell that breaking this promise will break you. You hoped he never has to.

“Good.”

“She’ll do the same.”

Across our great divide There is a glorious sunrise Dappled with the flickers of light From the dress I wore at midnight

There was so much spoken between you and Neteyam in just a few moments. There was so much he can see in you, so much struggle in your soul. And eventually, he sees you turn away from him, from all of them, willing your ikran away. He watches as you leave, by yourself, desperately wanting to go after you, realising it’s better if he didn’t. And just like that, a huge chapter of his life, the longest one, the best one, was instantly over and Neteyam knows he just lost you, forever.

You were never his to lose.

Leave it all behind

taglist: rebeccao03 @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @eywaeveng @midnight1812@fanboyluvr @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @daddysmurfslefttoenail @neteyamsikran @blue-slxt @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @eyweveng @itsjazzsworld @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @neteyamyawne @kasai-https @dvxsja @midnight1812

[oneshotnewbie]

heyy!!! i don’t mean to seem eager or like i’m spamming you, but i have a second request if that’s okay! if you’re comfortable, i’d like it to be an x child!reader unless you feel the need to change it to fit your idea of the story better, or whatever makes you comfortable, in which i don’t mind.

reader is Emily Prentiss’ daughter, who is around eight or so and reader is a little daredevil. like, she climbs on things and does these little stunts that scare emily half to death, so she’s always scolding her about it? maybe one day reader ends up doing one of her little stunts and gets hurt – nothing major, just a scraped knee or something, and emily cleans her up and explains why she can’t be doing things like that because it’s dangerous and she could get hurt again? reader tearfully agrees and promises not to do it again, or just something along these lines. i hope you keep your motivation, and are doing well, you’re a wonderful writer!

thanks!! - 🍄 anon

ᕚ---ᕘ

Emily sat on a wooden park bench in front of a small playground while the first warm rays of sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees. The sounds of children playing in the background and the happy chirping of birds formed a harmonious melody. She breathed the scent of the first blooming flowers and freshly mown grass into her nose, watching you play on the climbing frame, fueled by a childlike energy that seemed limitless.

"Honey, please be careful! And don't even think of climbing the trees, love!" She shouted to you as she stressed trying to stay calm while reading a book.

You were a little daredevil with wild curls on your head, ignoring your mother's admonitions and deftly disappearing from her sight to climb a low branch of a nearby oak tree. Your mother sighed and shook her head uncomfortably, not understanding your indomitable need to explore the world. This made Emily particularly anxious, making her heart soar every time she walked outside with you.

"Y/n y/m/n Prentiss! If you don't get down there now, there will be no ice cream for the rest of the week!" She scolded, her voice laced with a hint of concern as she finally tossed the book back into her bag, deeming it pointless to even try to read the first page of it. Emily stood up with a sigh and walked over to you, who was already sitting on the branch, looking up triumphantly and giggling happily to herself. "Oh mom, I have everything under control. Look how high I am!"

"You may have everything under control, but I'm not so sure I have it," she stood on her toe-tips, leaning on the thick trunk of the tree and reaching for your small hand. "Please come down, you little daredevil, before I have a heart attack from being anxious."

You cleverly climbed down again, jumping the last few centimeters into the arms of your mother, who was holding her arms outstretched towards you. Your eyes were still shining with excitement as you sat on her hips and wrapped your hands around her neck. "Mom, look. I'll show you something else I can do."

You wriggled out of her arms and before your mother could say anything or continue to hold you, you began attempting a shaky handstand that you seemed to have copied from the older kids on the lawn a few meters away from the playground. Emily held her breath and didn't look away from you. You swayed menacingly and her fear increased as her mind turned to the worst possible outcomes that could happen if you couldn't keep your balance. But you managed to land on your feet again and beamed proudly at your mother.

"See, Mom. I said I could do it!" You announced happily, clapping your hands together in joy. The black-haired woman couldn't help it and sighed in relief. "Yes, yes. You are really brave, my little devil. But please do me a favor and be careful. I don't want you to get seriously injured and have to go to the doctor. You hate doctors."

You nodded seriously and understandingly before running off to go on the next adventure, banishing what your mother had said to the farthest corner of your brain. Emily shook her head with a smile and thought about how much courage and desire to explore you had and where it came from in the first place. Life was like an endless playing field for you, full of possibilities, and she couldn't deny that deep down she was proud to have such an adventurous daughter.

Worried, she sat back down on the bench and tried to read her new novel once more. You continued to rage around, your energy inexhaustible. And this time, your mother had no idea that the second half of your adventure would be different.

Only minutes later, she heard a surprised, long scream followed by sobbing noises and your voice calling loudly for her. Her maternal instincts kicked in and she quickly jumped up to see what had happened. You sat on the floor, your hands clutching a scraped knee. "Y/n! What happened?" She called out worriedly as she rushed over to you.

"I fell off the wall, mom. It hurts so much!" you sobbed and she immediately knelt next to you in the sandbank to carefully examine the scraped area. Her slightly cold fingers ghosted over your injured skin and as she tried to blow the scratchy sand out of the wound, you began to cry. "Oh dear, that looks really painful. But don't worry, mommy will take care of it."

Emily stood up from her crouch and lifted you back up onto her hip. Your tearful, wet face buried itself in the black-haired girl's shoulder while your hands wrapped tightly around her neck and didn't want to let go. With you, she walked back to her seat and carefully sat down with you on her lap.

She quickly rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a disinfectant spray, zinc ointment and a plaster. As she carefully cleaned and treated your knee, she couldn't help but quietly explain to you how important it was to be careful. "You know how much I love you. Right? That's why you really need to be more careful. These small but dangerous adventures could seriously hurt you. You could hurt yourself more than you can imagine."

With tears in your eyes gently falling down your cheek, you looked up at her, simultaneously playing with a lost strand of her hair that strayed in front of your face. "But it's so much fun. I just wanted to see if I could climb it."

Emily let out a sigh as she carefully stuck the band-aid in place. "I understand it's fun, darling. But safety always comes first. You can have other fun without getting hurt. Mommy is very worried about you."

You lowered your head, rubbing your dirty and grimy hand at your eyes to wipe away the usual tears that remained. A feeling of regret washed over you. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't do it again and if I do, I'll call you so you can hold me."

Emily gently stroked your hair and smiled comfortingly before placing a big kiss on your forehead. "This is my brave little adventurer. I know you're learning and understanding. Sometimes we just need to protect ourselves from ourselves. And since you can't do that yet, I'll do it for you."

You nodded and got up from her lap. She straightened your shirt and pants after the fall, patting them a few times to remove the dust from the sand from you before you took her hand and pulled her to the slide, where she was supposed to slide and swing with you for a few laps.

[vind3miat0r]

random redacted headcanons time (theres a lot of them)

Darlin' let their friend (the one who got attacked by Quinn) do their makeup when they were both teens (Darlin' was the resident grunge/emo kid, and their friend was the preppy/y2k kid :3)

Obscura has scoliosis

Sweetie has an ostomy bag

Sweetie also has a very large dog named Lacey who can see The Caller

The Caller is a Stealth

Angel and Guy are siblings! :D

Adding onto that, Angel and Guy were both theatre kids, and they always did shows together

Angel doesnt have a filter, so theyre always saying unhinged shit. Baabe says unhinged shit too, but they do have a filter, so when they start yapping it sounds very out of pocket and very out of character (it scares Asher sometimes)

Milo and Sweetheart have had their neighborhood's HOA called on them multiple times for hanging pride flags from their house

Coworker and Kody are related (second cousins)

Obscura enjoys horror games, specifically Poppy Playtime and The Intruder. They also like Buckshot Roulette a lot

Treasure is THEE The Orion Experience fan. mf will not shut up about them (self-projection moment)

Porter likes tea. (before you say anything, hear me out) He specifically likes yaupon green tea and chamomile tea. The british tea jokes do get old, and hes had to restrain himself from strangling Vincent and Alexis multiple times before

The listener from the infamous April Fools audio actually had informed unempowered status🧍

Warden is a qualified professional therapist and teacher for children with special needs, specialised in autism. They also enjoy knitting things for their charges

Starlight has four planaria worms that they keep in a jar on their desk (they ominously refer to them as their sons)

Doc has a kitty. just a lil guy. doesnt know what a politic is, doesnt want to know what a politic is. just wants to be lil. Hush likes him a lot.

Angel has a pet preying mantis that they have somehow kept alive for two years

Coworker and Honey know each other because they frequent the same cafe (said cafe is the one thats owned by Obscura)

Freelancer can will and has bodied Gavin onto the sofa out of spite (early relationship) (they were dehydrated and sleep deprived)

Cutie's father is a professional hair stylist and taught them how to do hair. They also learned (of their own accord) how to take care of and style Black hair

Sweetheart is a Satanist (they gave Milo The Look at his "as above, so below" comment)

Asher regularly walks into a room only to stare at a wall, turn back around, and exit the room (ik that people do this occasionally, but he does it on a daily basis)

Sometimes, Freelancer will experience the worst stinging shoulder blade pain known to man (due to spinal fusion surgery). Gavin always panics when this happens, cuz he'll be in another room and all of a sudden feel a wave of agony go through Freelancer, paired with an anguished "AUGH MY SHOULDER BLADES" (this is based on personal experience btw)

[toomuchracket]

lovers' quarrel (ross x girlband gf!reader angst)

day 5 of valentine's week. schedule clashes are getting to you. enjoy <3

you haven't spoken to your boyfriend in a week.

you're sleeping in the same bed as him, yeah, but ross is always asleep when you let yourself into his house at 11pm, body aching after a 12-hour day of dance rehearsals and video shoots and last-minute touch-ups to the instrumentals and harmonies and mixing on your band's new album. and you're always asleep when he leaves at 8am to drive to the studio to finish recording the new 75 LP (scheduled for release a month after yours), a kiss to your sleep-messy hair the only real bit of physical contact he gets to give you.

even your phone calls during studio breaks keep missing each other; you only hear your boyfriend's voice filtered through crackly phone lines, an obvious reminder that you're apart. in fact, the closest you've felt to ross in about eight days is when you use his body wash, in the freezing shower you take to soothe your screaming leg muscles before you get into bed with him.

you hate this. you miss him, so much.

ross misses you, too - he tells you at the end of every voicemail he leaves, paired with a “love you”, in such a defeated tone it brings tears to your eyes. you call him back, leave a similar message of your own, and go back into the rehearsal room and dance your heart out, as if it isn't breaking more with every passing second. 

is this what life is always going to be like for the two of you, a loving relationship reduced to fleeting moments of getting to spend time with each other in between tours and shows and recording sessions and writing and promo? you're not sure how long you could take it, if it is.

but you love ross. so fucking much. surely you can do something to make it better for both of you.

the question is… what?

you're mulling over that on your lunch break, sat alone outside the studio complex with your tofu bowl and lucozade, thinking about how thursdays have always been the worst day of the week (double maths back in the day, and now the final full day of work left before you can actually maybe talk to your man for once), when the answer appears through the summer drizzle. well, actually, it's gabbriette who appears, dashing over to you from her (matty's) car and screeching as the rain hits her hair.

you laugh, standing and letting her barrel into your arms. “hi, wifey.”

“baby girl!” she kisses your nose. “you look gorgeous.”

“gabs, i've been dancing for three hours straight. i look like shit.”

“but hot shit. like, super sexy shit,” she grins. “how's everything going? do i get a sneak peek of the new video?”

you smirk. “depends. did matty send you down here to spy on us?”

gabbriette laughs. “he's too stressed to even think of suggesting anything that smart. no, actually, i'm just here to see how you're doing,” her beautiful face shifts into a more serious expression. “because when i asked your boyfriend how you were, literally thirty minutes ago, he very cryptically said he didn't know.”

“ah.”

“he did then explain that you guys hadn't broken up, but it scared me,” she squeezes your hand. “you okay? like, i know you're both so busy - george is literally pushing the guys to the limit in the studio right now - but…”

you sigh. “yeah, we’re just so busy that we keep missing each other, that's all - i get home when he's sleeping, he leaves before i wake up, and we're never free to call at the same time. like, i didn't even know that thing you just said about george, because we haven't talked for days,” you slide down the wall to sit, and gabbriette follows. you sniffle. “he sleeps right beside me, but i miss him like he's continents away. and i hate it, gabs, i really hate it.”

“oh, baby,” she puts her arm around you and kisses your head. “it'll get better soon, though, won't it? you finish here tomorrow afternoon, right?”

“yeah, but,” you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “then the boys get to this manic stage i'm in now, then i have to do promo, and they have to do promo, and i just don't know when it'll end.”

“i know the feeling,” gabbriette sighs. “it's not easy, us being us, loving the people we do. but that's the way it is, i guess. we just gotta,” she half-heartedly punches the air. “push through it.”

“mmm,” you take a drink of your juice. “what i wouldn't give to just have dinner with him, you know? go somewhere nice for a night, and think about nothing but the two of us.”

your friend turns to face you. “so, why don't you? make a reservation for tomorrow night. surprise him when he gets home. clichè, but,” she winks. “i'm sure ross won't complain about coming home to you all dressed up and gorgeous. i know i wouldn't.”

you burst out laughing. “you're gonna lose your shit when we go inside and you get to see my album cover outfit, babe.”

“oh my god,” she presses her face into your shoulder, then sits up with a smile. “but seriously. i know you're exhausted, and so is he, but plan a date, have fun, make it a regular thing. you guys are perfect together; don’t let that slip away.”

“alright. thank you for the support,” you hug her. “i love you.”

“i love you, angel girl,” gabbriette pulls back and kisses your nose again, before standing and helping you up. “now, i am dying to see what you and the girls have been cooking up. shall we?”

you link your arm through hers. “let's go.”

***

when you hear the key in the lock, you brush down your dress a final time and hurry into the hallway. your heart skips at the sight of ross - clearly exhausted - stepping through the door; you can't keep the smile from your face, and one appears on his after he kicks his shoes off and turns towards you.

he exhales. “god, you're a sight for sore eyes. hi, love,” his arms open, and you run into them and allow yourself to be wrapped up in your boyfriend. “missed you this week.”

“missed you, too,” you nuzzle into his neck. “how are you, darling?”

“perfect, now that i've got you in my arms,” his smile is audible. “not letting you out of them for a second, by the way. need to catch up on holding my girl.”

you giggle. “what about dinner?”

“i can eat pizza with you on my lap on the sofa, can't i?”

oh. your heart feels slightly heavier than it did a second ago. “that's… what you want to do for dinner?”

you do your best to keep your voice light, but ross doesn't miss a trick. he pulls back, frowning slightly. “yeah. something calm, after us both being so busy this week,” he seems to notice your dress for the first time, brow furrowing even further when he takes in your polished appearance. “but that's not what you want, is it?”

“well, baby,” you let go of him, wringing your hands nervously. “i’ve, um, made a reservation at that place you like down the street. for tonight.”

ross pinches the bridge of his nose. “why would you do that, sweetheart?”

your jaw falls open. what? “oh, i just thought it might be nice to go out. save us doing the washing up,” the joke falls flat, but you clear your throat and continue. “and, you know, i’m home now, not coming in exhausted at midnight or whatever, for once, and i-”

“oh, okay,” ross laughs mirthlessly, and your blood runs cold. “just because you're not tired, i should forget my own tiredness and force myself to go out for an overpriced meal i don't even want to eat right now? just because?”

you don't think you've ever felt smaller in your life, and your voice shows it. “no, i just thought-”

“exactly. you just thought, about yourself, not me,” ross hangs up his jacket, shaking his head. “i mean, really, love? you of all people know what it's like, burning yourself out in the studio every day. is it really so surprising that i wanted to come home, to my own house, and just spend the night there?”

something inside you just snaps, and your next words shoot from your lips like bullets. “no, i fucking know the feeling, ross,” you glare at him when he turns to look at you, slight shock on his face at your sudden aggression. “66 hours i've worked, this week, across five days, and at the end of every single one of them i've wanted nothing more than to go straight home to my flat and collapse onto my bed. but d'you know what i've done instead?” you laugh, manic. “i've driven here and stayed with you, because i thought that even if we couldn't spend time together properly, at least we were with each other in some way. and you can't even be nice about the fact i wanted to do something special for us tonight. because, yeah, i was thinking about us when i did it.”

ross looks at you for a second, then shrugs. “well, i didn't ask you to do any of it.”

you nod, biting your trembling lip. “right,” you squeeze past him, picking up your handbag from the console table. tears prick at your eyes as you open the front door. “enjoy your fucking pizza, then.”

a sob escapes your lips as the door slams behind you, tears hitting off the steps as you hurry down them towards your car. with shaking hands, you rifle through your bag to find your keys, unlocking the door and climbing inside so you can cry in peace and figure out where to go. you half-expect ross to follow you, knock on the window, apologise… but nothing. the front door stays closed. even the blinds in the front room don’t move.

you're tempted to wait to see how long it would take him to come after you. but it's not a great look for you to be sitting outside his house in tears, and - to be honest - you don't really want to see him right now, anyway. you need to go somewhere. not your flat, because that's the first place he'd look for you - if he even decides to bother, that is. no. you need to go somewhere else, be with other people, people who love you. but not your bandmates, because that would be ross's next point of call.

and then, it hits you - gabbriette. you scroll through your contacts until you find her number, and hit call; what you don't expect, however, is for her boyfriend to answer. “hi, darling!”

“oh, hi, matty,” you sniffle. “did i dial you? i thought i'd called gabs.”

“no, you did, she just got me to answer because she’s making dinner,” he replies, his girlfriend audibly yelling in greeting in the background. “speaking of dinner… i thought you and ross were meant to be out right now? everything alright?”

you don't say anything in response, just burst into tears down the phone. matty sighs. “oh, fuck. come over, darling. i'll open the wine now.”

“thank you,” you say between sobs. “i'll see you in a bit.”

when you get to his house twenty minutes later, you reckon the two of them must have been standing at the door waiting for you; as soon as you ring the bell, it opens, and you're enveloped into a group hug so tight you can't tell who's who.

matty kisses your head when the hug ends. “just wanna say,” he begins, passing you a ridiculously large glass of red wine. “that while ross is my best friend, he will hear nothing of what's about to be said tonight. so… yeah. rip him to shreds.”

“oh, i intend to,” gabbriette squeezes your hand. “he came home to you looking like that and he didn't wanna go out with you? stupid boy.”

you wince. “gabs…”

“sorry, sorry. but i'm right,” she turns to matty. “don’t you think, baby?”

he nods. “he's an idiot,” something beeps in the kitchen, and gabbriette squeaks and runs towards it. matty puts an arm around you. “come on. we'll have a seat, and you can tell us everything.”

“okay.”

and you do just that, settled next to matty on the kitchen counter so gabs can hear and react while she cooks; you aren't quite sure you'd be able to make it through reliving the argument without the plates of focaccia she keeps laying on your lap, to be honest. anyway - both of them react quite accordingly to your story, dropped jaws and wide eyes and utterances of “he said that?” punctuating your words.

matty shakes his head when you finish talking, putting a hand on top of yours in a brotherly way. “i'm sorry, darling. he can be a moody bastard at times, i know, but that's… that's awful.”

“i get that he's tired and he didn't want to go out,” you sigh, taking a drink of your wine. “but he didn't need to make me feel like a stupid bitch for suggesting it,” you well up again. “and now i don't know where i am with him.”

“oh, baby,” gabbriette runs over to kiss your hair and hug you. “listen, you'll stay here tonight - we'll have a good time, talk shit, have some wine, and then we can figure your love life out tomorrow. cool?”

you look between the two of them, nervous. “i don't want to intrude…”

“oi, none of that,” matty squeezes your hand. “what kind of brother would i be if i didn't take of my little sister?”

“love you, mate,” you hug him, then turn to gabs. “both of you.”

“and we love you,” she kisses your cheek. “me more than him. seriously, i love you so much.”

matty laughs. “she’s right, actually,” he says to you. “came home raving about the sneak peek of the album she got yesterday,” he looks at you pointedly.

you roll your eyes. “fine, i'll tell you about it.”

“fuck yeah!”

you're still telling them all about the album and its processes when ross makes contact, almost two hours after you left his house. matty's phone rings, the contact photo (an old selfie of the two boys) visible to all three of you; the atmosphere changes from buzzy to sombre when you see it.

matty looks at you. “i don't have to answer it if you don't want me to.”

you look at the buzzing phone, the picture of your boyfriend on the screen filling you with a weird mix of emotion. “no, it's ok.”

“you sure?”

you nod. “if he asks where i am, you can tell him,” you murmur, looking at the floor. “i don't want him to worry.”

“right, darling,” matty takes your hand, and picks up his phone with the other. “alright, mate?”

gabbriette hugs you as ross speaks, inaudible to you; you're thankful for her support, because your stomach's in knots waiting for matty to reply. his eyes flick to yours, nervous. “yeah, she’s here,” he says, squeezing your hand. “she’s alright now, but… she really wasn't when she first arrived. surprised she managed to drive here, to be honest - that's how upset she was.”

you chew your bottom lip as ross says something else. matty quirks his eyebrows. “depends if your girlfriend wants to see you or not, mate.”

gabbriette squeezes you tighter. you shrug, and mouth “need to get it over with anyway”; matty grimaces, and relays the message to your boyfriend. “she's not opposed. but,” he shifts in his seat. “don't expect a warm welcome. that includes from me, too - it's none of my business, and i love you, but seeing my friend cry like that was fucking heartbreaking. i can't believe you could be so cruel.”

god, you love your friends.

you smile as matty wraps up the call. “yeah, i can imagine you feel awful about it; i'd be worried if you weren't. and yeah, i'll tell her, alright?” he gives you a thumbs up. “see you soon.”

“he's on his way?” you ask once the call ends.

“he went to yours. freaked out when you weren't there. so, he'll be here in five,” matty looks at you tentatively. “and i've to tell you he's extremely sorry and also that he loves you more than anything and finally that he’s a cunt for what he said.”

“i coulda fuckin told you that last bit,” gabbriette mutters. she smiles at you, though. “but the other bits are, you know, promising.”

“yeah,” you murmur. “shall we go and wait for him, then?”

she kisses your cheek. “if that's what you want, sure.”

true to his word, ross knocks the door five minutes later; you sit on the stairs in the hallway, gabs in front of you protectively (at her insistence), while matty answers. “hi.”

“alright?” ross's face isn’t properly visible from the angle you're at, but you can hear from the scratchiness of his voice that he's been crying. it hurts you to think about that. “can i come in?”

matty nods, stepping back to let him in. ross follows, an awkward dance, and immediately sees you. his face crumples. “hi, love.”

you wave. you're not sure if you can speak.

ross looks at gabs. “can i, um, talk to my girlfriend alone for a second?”

she turns to you. “you cool with that?”

you nod. she kisses your cheek and stands, staring ross down as she walks over to matty and they leave the room. once they've gone, ross flinches. “has she always been so scary?”

“you would be exactly the same way if she hurt matty,” your voice is hoarse, your crying just as obvious as your boyfriend's.

“yeah, s'pose,” ross takes a tentative few steps towards you, gesturing towards the stairs. “can i sit?”

“mhmm.”

“thanks,” he takes a seat on a step a few down from you, turning so he can talk to you properly. “i'm sorry, love, i really am. and i don't really have an excuse for being such a dickhead, other than tiredness, which isn't even an excuse because you've been more exhausted than i am and you still made the effort to do something nice for both of us,” he takes a shaky breath. “you look beautiful, by the way, even now; slightly off-topic, i know, but i just had to say it.”

“thanks,” you say quietly, picking at your cuticles. “thought you'd like this dress.”

“i love it,” ross smiles sadly. “i love you. and the fact that i hurt you… i feel fucking terrible about it,” his lip trembles. “i love you more than anything, or anyone, and i don't want to lose you. the thought of it fucking terrifies me, and,” he begins to cry, and your heart aches. “i worry that i'm not enough for you. i worry that i don't do enough for you, take you out enough. i worry that you'll get bored of me, bored of making all the effort, bored of sitting at home watching football or films, and one day you'll just leave me.”

what?

“oh, ross,” your heart shatters, and you scooch down to sit next to him and hug him.

“m'sorry, i know i'm the one in the wrong, but i have to be honest,” he cries into you. “when you said you wanted to go out instead of stay in, i freaked that i was boring you. and then when you brought up staying at mine instead of yours…”

“you thought it was me saying i was fed up.”

“yeah.”

“oh, baby,” you start to cry, too. “no. it was me just being pissed about you trying to say i didn't know the feeling of wanting to go home when you're tired. i didn't mean it in any other way, honest.”

“no, i know, my love. i was just scared.”

“why, though?” you look him in the eye. “you're the love of my life, ross. you're more than enough for me - everything i need, and more.”

he sniffles. “did you mean to quote beyoncé there, or…?”

“well, no, but it was apt,” you giggle, stroking his dimples when he smiles. “look, i was hurt by the way you reacted to me - an ‘oh, that's nice, love, but could we go out tomorrow night instead?’ wouldn't have gone amiss. but,” you kiss his nose. “i accept your apology, and i love you and our relationship very much, just as they are. just don't ever fucking treat me like that again, alright?”

“i promise you i won't, love,” ross kisses your nose in return. “i love you. and i'm sorry i was a grumpy shit about dinner, because i'm fucking starving now.”

you laugh, kissing his neck. “i reckon gabs has got us covered there. but if not,” you grin. “we can always get a pizza.”

“you're never letting me live that one down, are you?”

“not a fucking chance.”