#you still love them and miss them but you don't feel the same fresh pain

[isa-ghost]

cranboo and phil hcs maybe..........

God where do I start with this. /pos

qPhil headcanons masterlist

I know exactly where. *Slams my fist on the desk.* ENDER KING POSSESSION AND ENDER WALK. Being manipulated by a [perceived?] higher being without their consent and to some degree without their knowledge. Doing things they'd never do in their right minds, hurting people they'd never hurt. Becoming cold and self-centered while controlled. Being terrified of how they can barely if at all control themselves.

Phil misses that kid a lot, actually. He was trying his best, and he can relate to just wanting to settle and belong somewhere while trying to put personal demons to rest or at least escape them. He's glad he could pass on some wisdom and give him a sanctuary while he tried to heal and move on.

He wishes he could've taught Ranboo how to not feel so guilty about things. And to have less shame. He started, but feels like he didn't make a lot of progress.

He hopes he'll cross paths with Ranboo again some day. He'd love to see how his Ender abilities have developed, how he's changed and matured, and same with Michael if he has the kid with him. Sometimes it makes him too aware of his immortality, but he does enjoy seeing how people he knew years ago have grown.

He had mixed feelings about Michael_Beloved. He certainly wasn't gonna hurt him whatsoever though, that's for sure. He enjoyed watching Techno's reactions to the kid.

He can't lie to himself, he was honestly kinda looking for some of the same weird quirks popping up while Ender King was possessing him as the ones he knew Ranboo was developing. He's SO grateful he didn't develop the weakness to water (*laughs in amfmn*)

To this day he wonders what Ranboo was doing with those water bottles he asked him to get. He's a bit concerned, but it's none of his business. 🤷🏼‍♂️

I'm not sure what they would've bonded over, if anything, pre-Syndicate, but they Were neighbors in New L'Manberg for a while. Phil really did enjoy it, he just had no interest in the government part. Living in NL was temporary while he got his bearings in this new realm (and recovered from the fresh trauma).

Consider it because he's a people pleaser if you want, but Ranboo was always really good at helping tend to Phil's fucked up wings. And as rich as he was, he always seemed to have health potions or a gapple or something on hand for Phil to have if he was having a bad pain day. That kindness has never left Phil's mind, and sometimes Quesadilla Island residents reminded him of it.

CURSE THOSE DAMN 2X1 RANBOO MINES THAT WENT ON FOREVER, HE STILL DREADS SEEING TUNNELS LIKE THAT TO THIS DAY.

He would've fucking loved to watch Ranboo fruit it up on Quesadilla Island. Sometimes he imagines how he'd react to seeing Phil fruiting it up and it makes him laugh. Tbf on Ranboo's part, to him Phil would've gone from "I have a wife who's a goddess and I don't need anyone else" to "This is my wife, my husband, my fuckbuddy, his boyfriend, my other fuckbuddy–"

Consider: Because Ranboo ended up in the Nether with Michael, Blaze Empress eventually tells Phil she's located them. It may not be HER Nether, but after QI, her and Rose are kinda like "fuck it, we ball" now. Especially because they wanna make sure Ender King isn't being a bitch in some other realm. They'll beat his ass together in every universe. Anyway: Phil hears she's found Ran and they become pen pals via Blaze.

I think Phil being possessed by Ender King with Ranboo's filthy rich ass in walking distance of his house would've been really fucking funny.

The two of them were so shit at referring to themselves as their Syndicate code names. And because of the way things played out, they never had the time to get used to using them at all. To this day they hear those names and just start laughing like idiots.

Tbh if they were to cross paths again now, Phil would be way more likely to be a "bad" influence on Ranboo. Fuck it we Bolas. (I am eating the concept of Ranboo picking up on Phil seeming,, wilder than the last time they met).

[airyairyaucontraire]

The children are getting into DuckTales (the original, I think you need to know the original before the remake) and although they naturally like the theme song because it slaps, they're a little unclear on the actual words. I think Hannah picked up on the foreboding tone of "D-d-d-danger lurks behind you, there's a stranger out to find you," because I heard her quietly singing, "Death is looking for me, here in Duckburg."

[singmyaubade]

No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

A/N: Hello everyone! Now, I know I took so long to post this part but I wanted to think out everything and understand the direction of where the story is going! Thank you to everyone who was understanding and continued supporting me and this story, thank you so much!

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (This is truly amazing guys and what truly inspired this entire series so please check it out!)

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing, use of weed, and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The fresh sunlight peaked through the curtains in your room right onto your face as you squinted. Nothing like a beam of light hitting your face after three days of avoiding the Potter family.

You hadn't left your room and Dot kept appearing, asking if you needed anything and would give you dinner when it was time. You knew Euphemia was up to this but she wanted to give you your space which you respected.

You loved Euphemia dearly but you didn't know how to face her or what to say about everything. In all honesty, you were a bit embarrassed about the whole thing.

You wanted to go home badly but your Father was still sick and your Mom had to stay with him so it was with the Potters for Christmas which was a tragedy within itself.

You had asked your Mom if you could just go next door and stay there alone but she considered it rude and the Potters would still have to check up on you so it was easier if you stayed with them.

You just couldn't stop thinking about everything which was more painful.

You never felt like you acted obsessive when it came to James but hearing his words in your heard,

"I couldn't get away from you, and the only time I could was when I dated Lily; it was the best months of my life,"

The words echoed in your head during the last three days. You knew you were an amazing friend to James and always thought about his needs and comforted him.

And he had the audacity to say such cruel words when all you had been was kind and caring towards him.

Not only did it anger you but you felt humiliated that you could care for such a hateful and disgusting person.

He hadn't even tried to approach you about the situation, he just continued to live in the same house with you without such of a word.

The only one who did try to talk to you was Sirius and even when you tried to ignore him, he refused it and to admit, he was hard to ignore.

"Oh Y/N!" Sirius sang loudly outside of your door, "I know you can hear me!" You clutched your pillow over your ears to drown him out, "If you don't let me in, I'm gonna tell everyone what I saw you do in the girls bathroom sixth year," He said, urging you to the door as it swung open.

You glared at him while he had a grin on his face as he stepped inside your room, "Wow, Mom really set you up with the perks," He looked around in atonishment.

"What do you want?" You said sincerely.

"How are you?" He nervously asked, scratching the back of his head.

You scoffed, "Peachy,"

His face frowned, "I know you don't want to hear about James-" He started.

You cut him off, "Ding ding! I don't," You replied, laying on your bed as Sirius sighed.

"Prongs is a dickhead," Sirius started, earning a nod from you, "But he's trying to turn the love he has for you into hate," He explained as you looked off to the window, "So that he won't miss you but he does dearly," Sirius pleaded.

"Why can't he be the one to be mature?" You asked lightly, "Why does everyone always have to speak for him and excuse his poor behavior?" You exhaled, crossing your arms over your silk nightgown.

"James will never deserve you," Sirius answered, "But I do think a serious conversation is needed without the dramatics,"

You knew that you agreed that you needed to have a conversation with James to put an end to all the bullshit and to just finally be done but you didn't know what to say or how to start it.

"The only reason he hasn't tried talking to you is because he knows you will see how he truly feels and who you've always known," Sirius spoke, "It's up to you but I know that whatever you decide will be the best option," He gave you a reassuring smile.

You looked at him, smiling back, "When did you become so wise?" You asked.

He shrugged, "I'm afraid I've gotten fed up of James and gotten bored," He snickered as you giggled, "I'll see you," He said, kissing your forehead lightly as you nodded before he exited the room.

James didn't deserve you and he probably never would but you remembered that young boy who had been your friend for all of those years.

You couldn't excuse James's actions but you could find it in your heart to give him the much dreaded conversation that has been waiting to happen.

And despite hating him more than you ever have in your life, you had to find it in you to at least explain your feelings.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts, "Sirius?" You asked confused as the door swung open.

You were surprised to see your four best friends at the door, smiling at you.

"Ew why was that your first guess?" Marlene questioned disgusted as your face glowed in excitement, racing over to your four best friends at the door.

You embraced them all in a tight hug as you pulled back, "What are you guys doing here?" You gleamed in excitement.

"Well, we heard about what happened from Sirius and Euphemia suggested that we come," Dorcas answered.

"And well, we couldn't say no," Mary added.

"But what about Christmas with your families?" You asked, frowning at the fact that they won't spend Christmas with their families.

"It's just one Christmas and I'm sure Petunia will have a better Christmas without me," Lily giggled as you gave her a soft smile.

"Well I can't say it's that merry here," You said, sitting on your bed as they all walked in and Dorcas started admiring the bookshelf in the corner.

Lily sat down next to you as Mary and Marlene shared the chair across from you and Lily, "How about we actually have one day to celebrate your birthday instead of focusing on James?" Lily comforted.

"It's never one of those days," You sighed.

"But it can be," Dorcas smirked, holding up candies.

"Candy?" Mary asked with a snort.

Dorcas rolled her eyes, "No you idiot, there's weed inside them," She whispered.

Your mouth agaped, "Where did you even get that?" You asked.

"Remus is one hell of a dealer," Dorcas replied, grinning ear to ear.

"I don't know about that," Lily said, swallowing.

"You did say that you wanted to celebrate Y/N's birthday," Marlene replied with a smart-ass tone.

"That is not what I meant and you know it," Lily argued.

"We don't have to do it Lils," You smiled, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"Yes my sweet Lily flower," Marlene walked over, pinching Lily's cheek, "Let's not prevent you from blooming," She snickered.

Lily stared daggers into Marlene, "You know what, just to prove you wrong McKinnon," Lily replied, walking over to Dorcas and snatching the bag from her.

"Wait a second!" Dorcas softly shouted before Lily ate two of the candies.

Lily's face contorted into disgust and then a gulp before shaking her head, trying to shake off the flavor.

"Is that safe?" You asked, walking over to Lily and checking her eyes.

"Yeah but it just means she's gonna fucked out of her mind," Mary snorted.

"Lily, you are the one who tells us to never fall for Marlene's tatics yet you do this!" Dorcas said, sitting Lily down.

"I feel fine!" Lily persisted.

"For now," Marlene snickered.

You glared at Marlene as she put her hands defensively, "Well if we wanna follows Lily lead," Mary said, eating two like Lily did.

"Count me in!" Marlene cheered, eating two straight after.

"Should we?" Dorcas asked as you shrugged your shoulders and took two as Dorcas did the same.

You both ate the candies and your face contorted the same Lily's did. It tasted like a bitter, earthy taste as if you were chewing cannabis.

"And now we wait," Marlene said, plopping down.

You yawned as Marlene exasperated, "I don't feel anything!"

"Well duh you idiot, it takes a little bit," Mary chortled, continuing to lay down on the carpet of the living room next to LIly.

"You did insist we move downstairs because you thought the aroma of Y/N's room was ruining it," Dorcas snorted.

Marlene crossed her arms, "It seemed right at the time," She pouted, sitting down in the big armchair.

"Maybe we should've took more," Mary suggested.

And that's when everything took a turn for the worst.

You felt like you couldn't fully think straight and you had this sweet, bitter taste in your mouth. You felt relaxed like a huge weight had been lifted in your shoulders and you could be alone in your own thoughts.

"Took more?" Lily giggled.

"Yeah duh," Mary said, giggling too.

"Duh," Dorcas repeated as you all laughed uncontrollably.

"Stop, I can't breathe," You horrendously laughed, holding your stomach in your hands.

"Guys, I'm gonna pee myself!" Marlene cried out, rocking back and forth laughing in the chair.

"Guys, we are so loud," Lily whispered, shushing all of you while uncontrollably laughing.

You felt like you were gonna explode, "You're right, you're right," You whispered, trying to calm down.

"Okay guys silent game," Dorcas shushed, covering her hand over her mouth.

Suddenly Sirius walked in with a confused grin on his face on why you all were whispering and trying to be silent, "What are you guys bloody doing?" He asked which made you all break.

You all bursted out into outrageous laughs while holding your stomach's, trying not to explode. James walked downstairs with a confused smile on his face as he watched the scene in front of them.

"What's up with them?" James asked, the corner of his mouth upturning.

"No idea," Sirius shrugged, walking into the dining hall as James followed him.

"Girls," Euphemia appeared from the dining hall as you all tried to shush yourselves, "Come into the hall for dinner," She gave a comforting smile.

'Shit.' You mentally thought.

Lily was the first one to rise up, looking at the rest of you with a worried look on her face. You stood up, trying to inhale the next laughing round.

You walked towards the dining hall as you could hear the girls behind you, whispering and saying to "act normal."

You sat down next to James as his face was mentally confused on why you had made that decision in the first place.

You felt like your eyes fluttering close as you laid your head on James's shoulder. You could feel him shift uncomfortably but let it happen without questioning you.

Euphemia saw the state in front of her in utter shock, "Y/N, are you okay dear?" She asked, worried.

You didn't want her to suspect that you had taken anything or were under the influence,

So all you had to do was act normal.

How hard could it be?

You straightened yourself on your chair, taking your head off of James, "I'm fine!" You said, louder than you wanted to, earning a worried look from James, Sirius, Fleamont, and Euphemia, "I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night," You cleared your throat.

"I'm sorry to hear that dear, do you need any potions?" Euphemia asked.

"No, no, that's okay," You smiled as she returned one back but still looked worried.

"James, can you grab me a piece of that chicken and some potatoes?" You asked, looking up at him as his eyes showed visible shock.

He hesitated before grabbing a piece of the chicken using a fork and knife and placing it on your plate and grabbing the spoon to put potatoes on the plate. You muttered a 'thanks' before digging into the chicken and potatoes.

You weren't the only one because the rest of the girls were doing the same. Sirius, Fleamont, Euphemia, and James all had shocked expressions, wondering if you guys were wolves.

Fleamont whispered something to Euphemia as she assured him that you guys were fine even if it didn't look like it.

"Y/N, are you okay?" James whispered into your ear.

You smiled, "I'm fine James, how are you?" You asked before stifling a laugh.

"Are you blazed?" He asked with a scoff.

"Shh," You laughed while shushing, "Don't tell Mom,"

"Bloody hell," James replied, trying not to laugh at the situation, "Okay, try to follow my lead," He whispered before standing, "Mum, Y/N is not feeling well, I'm gonna take her to lay down," He said, helping you stand up by grabbing your waist.

"Do you want me to come with?" Euphemia asked, rising up.

"No, no, it's fine," James stopped her, "She just needs to rest,"

Euphemia nodded, "Okay well, feel better dear," Euphemia smiled as James began walking you and you squeezed Euphemia's shoulder in a 'thank you,'

James whispered a few things that you couldn't make out while taking you up the stairs, helping you on each step. You almost tripped over a step as James grabbed your waist, leading you up the stairs.

You laughed obnoxiously as you went from room to room, trying to get to your own. James could only try not to laugh and be the serious one in the moment.

He was leading you to your room but you placed your hands on the door frame, stopping him, "No, your room," You frowned.

"Y/N, you need to sleep in your bed," James insisted, trying not to laugh.

"Jamesie, pleaseeee," You pleaded as he couldn't force you through the door frame and gave up.

"Okay," James sighed, "Come on," He didn’t want to see the sad look on your face any longer so he had to cave.

You cheered gleefully as James leaded you to his room, carefully helping you step towards his bed before laying you on the bed.

You looked up at him with a smile as he blushed, "I'm gonna go back downstairs and then I'll sleep in your room," He said, moving to leave.

"Wait!" You yelled, raising up, "Lay with me," You looked at him in the eyes as you looked at him back.

His mouth agaped, "Y/N, I don't know if this is a good idea," He replied.

"We aren't doing anything, I just want you to lay with me," You said, pleading with your eyes.

He walked over to the other side of you, laying up on the headboard as you moved your head to his chest, snuggling into him. His heart was beating faster than you ever could have felt it beat.

"Why are you so mean to me?" You asked, frowning into his chest.

He ran his hands through your hair, "Because I don't know what else to do," He whispered, slowing his strokes down, "I really am sorry Y/N, I don't know if you can forgive me,"

"Just talk to me," You said sadly in his chest.

"When you are sober, I will," He chuckled.

"Promise?" You asked.

"Promise," He said as your eyes fluttered close, sleeping into his chest, "I promise Y/N," He whispered, kissing your head before closing his eyes too.

A/N: For one, I am so sorry for how long this chapter has taken. Number two, this was based on my experience of being high so guys, please don't hate and say this isn't the right experience! This chapter was not that long and not very angst filled but I know my plan! Again, if you hated this, I apologize and thank you so much for reading.

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[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #3

CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too. 

The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon. 

Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago. 

Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”

It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne. 

It was easy. It was simple. 

That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar. 

“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”

You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—

“Jesus, watch it!”

You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel. 

“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter. 

You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”

You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 

“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”

Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”

You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun. 

“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”

He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”

You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue.  “I heard the food is shit.”

Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink. 

“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted. 

 The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out. 

“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up. 

You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand. 

“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”

“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”

Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”

Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”

Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down. 

“Well?”

“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore. 

“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”

Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette. 

The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress. 

He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before. 

“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”

—————

By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain. 

“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”

So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of. 

Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”

You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers. 

“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”

“Think he was lookin’ for you.”

You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting. 

Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast. 

“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.” 

“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land. 

Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”

So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening. 

Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out. 

“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”

Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him. 

The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue. 

“Sorry.”

—————

Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.  

He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away. 

There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology. 

“Thank you.”

Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter. 

“You got a crush, my friend?” 

Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer. 

“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket. 

He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal. 

—————

The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices. 

It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach. 

She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—

The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both. 

So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago. 

But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship. 

The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor. 

You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”

Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked. 

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”

Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”

Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you. 

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”

Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different. 

Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew. 

You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”

The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier. 

“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne. 

“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”

When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone. 

“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”

You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”

Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed. 

And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 

[icaruspendragon]

im sorry to ask but i dont know what else to do—how did you do it how did you dig yourself out because it feels like i am choking on dirt and people keep shoveling it onto me and i miss her so much and i dont know how to make this feeling stop. she was my best friend. ive never lived in a world without her before. how did you do it. how are you doing it

grief is so hard and so heavy when we first meet it. it feels like all our arms will ever hold for the rest of forever. and it is, in a sense. once we pick it up, we never really set it down. not fully.

and I don't think it gets lighter, I think we somehow, impossibly, get stronger.

there's lots of metaphors for grief. that's one of them. another one I like to use is that it feels like you're in the grave with them. like lazarus. like yourself. waiting for someone to raise you from the dead. to raise you both.

I've learned a lot about crawling out of the grave. more than I would have ever wanted to learn. like how emptiness is actually quite heavy. or how to pretend like you feel half-alive. but I think the most important thing I've learned is that somedays, we inexplicably end up back in it. and that sucks.

because we just spent months clawing our way through the bugs and the earth. because our soldier-hands have finally breached the surface. because the sun is finally caressing our hell-fresh faces. because for the first time in months we feel like we can finally breath. and then, suddenly, we're right back in the terrible thick of it.

those days make it feel like I'm sisyphus and grave dirt is my rock. or like I'm prometheus and the darkness is my eagle.

but then it's tuesday.

which is to say my brother died on my 25th birthday, a monday. and that day is now a memory that's fuzzy around the edges. single snapshots I know are connected, but I couldn't tell you how. I remember my mother standing in my bedroom and tears and family and phone calls and cleaning my living room because I didn't know what to do with my hands. I remember going to my grandmothers and my phone vibrating off the table and leaving to go get coffee because I couldn't sit still. I remember joking, trying to joke. trying to do whatever I could to make sense of that impossible day. I remember checking my phone and reading and rereading the messages, a mixed bag of congratulations for surviving another year and condolences that my brother didn't, I remember not knowing how to respond to any of them. so I didn't. I remember being surrounded by so many people doing nothing but extending love and kindness to me and never feeling more alone. the world was ending and I was alone. I thought that day would go on forever.

but it didn't.

it ended, as all things do. monday was over and my first day as an only child was done.

and suddenly it was tuesday. and everything was different but also exactly the same.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead. I was so heavy when I woke up that first tuesday. so heavy and confused. I thought the world had ended. it surely felt like it had. but it hadn't. because the world couldn't have ended on monday.

not if it was tuesday.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead but the world wasn't ending. monday should have been our demise, but it wasn't. and it hasn't. and it won't. because just as sure as we have mondays, we'll always have tuesdays.

that's something I've taken a strange comfort in, knowing that we'll always have tuesdays.

the feeling never stops. but I think that's okay. because you're only feeling that way because there was love first. and as much as what I felt on that first tuesday hurts, as much as it suffocates, as much as it consumes, I'd take the hurt and the suffocation and the consumption because the love I felt first will always, always be worth it.

tuesdays will always be worth it.

like yeah, if I loved less, it wouldn't hurt this bad. but I don't want to live in a world where I have to love less. where I was loved less.

I'll take the pain. I'll take the grave days. I'll take the rock. I'll take the eagle. I'll take apocalyptic, earthshaking mondays. I'll take every last wretched bit because goddamn what a miracle it is to love so bad it hurts this big.

I hold that love, his love for me and my love for him, a love that's now become our love in the cage of my ribs while I'm in the cage of the grave. and I dig.

it's monday and I dig.

I dig.

and then tuesday comes.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Seven Days to Fall Again | Thursday | Jeon Jungkook

Inspired by the MV "Seven" by Jung Kook ft. Latto (obvi lol) Summary: Flowers for my love. Jungkook is trying absolutely everything he can to get you back. No matter how ridiculous it might seem. Pairing: Reader x Jungkook (almost exes to lovers lol) Word Count: 3.2k (longer one this time lol) a/n: So I haven't posted anything for this series in almost a month so I'm really really sorry for that. I have so many other series going at this point that it's taken me a second to come back around and write for this one again. This one is a little bit longer to hopefully make up for it. Let me know what you think! p.s. Pretty much wrote all of this is one night so I hope it's not complete crap but I thought it was cute hehe Start from the beginning

Jungkook's visit yesterday threw me for a loop to say the least. 

I've tried to do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't get to me but no matter how many pep talks I give myself or how many times I've tried to scold myself instead, nothing works. 

I miss him, and I hate myself because of that. 

I've been able to go through my morning and most of my afternoon with radio silence from him which has been incredible for my stress levels but I can't help but feel his absence more and more as time goes by.

He was hardly ever around for the last few months of our relationship so I don't know why his presence; which I had specifically chose not to have around now almost feels more painful. 

"Maybe I just need a walk" I say out loud "Yeah a walk and some fresh air should clear everything up" I continue, trying to lie to myself in thinking that some sunshine might actually fix this. 

Walking out of my apartment and heading straight to the subway I make a decision to go to a little cafe that I used to go to with my classmates. It's been a while since I've been there and their strawberry crepes were to die for from what I remember so I think it's time I treated myself to something nice.

~~~~~~~

Leaving the station I notice a big crowd starting to  gather around and I get a glimpse of what they're all staring at, seeing that it's some guy getting picked up off the ground and rolled out on a gurney. 

Taking a closer look, believing that I somehow know them, I feel the need to make sure they're okay but I'm stopped by the police tape they've put up. 

Once the guy's head turns towards me my eyes widen in horror seeing that it's Jungkook. "Wait! Wait! Jungkook! Wait that's my boyfriend!" I say and duck under the yellow tape not bothering to worry about the repercussions. 

When he hears my voice and opens his eyes and I see them quickly change from seeming like he had been on the edge of life and death into his big doe ones, sending me a bright smile, showing zero sighs of distress anymore and leaves me stopping in my tracks.

"CUT" I hear someone shout in the distance. "Who is this girl and why is she on my set?" the same voice say as they gradually get closer. 

"No one" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and see Jungkook give me an awkward smile in response. I scoff and don't bother listening to no doubt the director trying to speak to me and from the small bits I catch onto it sounds almost as if he wanted me to complete the scene. 

"Not interested" I mumble and walk off, ignoring their efforts to keep me there. "Baby wait!" I hear Jungkook say as he struggles to get the belt they had fastened off of him. 

I don't even bother responding and continue to make my way down the street to the cafe, praying that he won't follow me but it seems as though the universe is laughing at me because despite the growing crowd around us he still is able to keep his eyes on me. 

"Y/n wait! Please!" he yells, making sure that there's no way possible that I couldn't hear him but I choose to ignore him nonetheless. "Please Noona wait!" he continues, using a word that he knows will get a reaction out of me and my steps stutter for a second but I regain my balance seamlessly and pick up the pace seconds after. 

"Excuse me, sorry. Excuse me, thank you" I hear him say, continuing to use that loud voice letting me know that he's still on my tail but as soon as I get to a crosswalk I start to walk a bit faster, hoping to cut him off and lose him when he hopefully gets stuck waiting for the next light and luckily this time it works. 

I take a quick glance behind me to check and see him standing there catching my gaze and turning to a flower vender beside him and buying a bouquet of sunflowers, my favorite flowers during this time of year and I know he didn't just get them randomly because no matter how much I think he doesn't pay attention or care about our relationship I know he makes sure he knows the little things about me.

And that's one of the things that makes me want to take him back. 

"Y/n wait! Please" he yells and I turn around just in time to see him decide to take a risk and cross the street without waiting for the light and seconds later I hear the sound of tires screeching on the pavement and see Jungkook duck out of view. 

"Jungkook" I whisper, stopping dead in my tracks, my body totally frozen at the thought that he might've gotten hit. 

Moments later though I see the sunflowers resurface above the crowd and his head soon after that and I watch the exchange between him and the driver and then soon see him turning back to me and abandoning the conversation to start running after me again. 

"Wait!" he says and I turn on my heel to keep going, hating the fact that I've already lost the distance I had gained between us. 

I duck into a random shop in hopes that he'll somehow lose sight of me and walk right past it, losing me and hopefully letting me resume my intended relaxing day to myself. I'll just stop by the bakery instead and make my way home so I can head in the opposite way of what he probably had expected me to be going in. 

As I hear the shopkeeper welcome me I quickly return their greeting and hide behind one of their shelves, picking up a random book and holding it up to my face. Making sure it's open and covering me just enough for him not to notice, but also giving me enough visual to see him pass by and continue his search in the opposite way, just as I had planned. 

I watch as he walks past the store, frantically turning his head in all directions to see if he could finally catch sight of me again and to my delight he continues on the path he had seen me on a few minutes before. 

I let out a deep breath at the sight and put the book down, finally gaining some of that peace of mind. 

"Were you looking for anything specific dear?" the older shopkeeper asks. "No not really, I was just trying to lose my tail" I say pointing towards the window. "My ex boyfriend has been trying to get me back and he won't stop trying to talk to me so we can 'Talk things out' or whatever" I say, letting out a huge sigh, happy to get a chance to talk to someone at least a little bit. 

"Well have you given him a chance to say his piece yet?" she questions, leaving me shocked, expecting her to side with me. "Well...no, but we've gone through these sorts of problems before and I just don't want him to say something that will convince me to give him another chance again" I say, walking towards her and leaning on a shelf nearby. 

She takes a second to think before responding and says something that I was hoping she wouldn't. "You need to give him a chance to at least say something. Everyone deserves closure don't you think?" she says with a soft smile, hoping to get through to me. "Unless he's violent or something of that sort. Then he can go fuck himself" she says with a grin, already knowing that's not the case. 

I open and close my mouth a bit, not really knowing how to respond and she laughs at my reaction, loving how much she's caught me off guard. "He was the young man that just passed by with those sunflowers wasn't he?" she says with a knowing smile. "How did you-" I start out but she cuts me off with another laugh. 

"That boy had the most adorable panicked look, searching here and there as if he had lost his owner. He's quite handsome if you ask me" she say winking at me and making me blush a bit at her straightforward nature. "Give him a chance love. And if you let him go, then you let him go. Trust me, you don't want to deal with the what ifs if he stops trying" she says giving me a soft smile. 

I know she's right and I know I should at least hear him out but at this point I think it's something I've gotta work my way up to. His all or nothing attitude right now is just too much for me. 

"You're right. I'll take some time and when I'm ready I'll sit down with him to talk it all out. Thank you. Oh I'm sorry I should probably get out of your hair. Uh" I stammer at the end, feeling guilty for taking up so much of her time. 

"Um here, can I buy this?" I ask, placing a little bear with a lavender flower embroidered on it's collar on the counter, grabbing the first thing I laid eyes on. It can't be more than four inches tall with it's cute round belly and a little sun hat on it with the ears sticking through it. 

"Keep it" she say, not even bothering to offer room for discussion as she walks away from the counter. "It's full of lavender petals so keep it close and the smell will help calm you down whenever you need it. You might even want to hold it close when you're talking to that boyfriend of yours" she says with a wink and walks to the back of the store, disappearing behind a shelf, leaving me alone with my thoughts. 

I pull out my wallet and put a five dollar bill in the tip jar and take a second glance at the bear and hold it up close to my face, breathing in it's sweet and slightly musky fragrance. I smile down at it's cute little face and put it in my purse. 'I've never been in this bookstore before' I think to myself, now finally taking a second to check out the rest of the interior beyond the immediate storefront. 

I make it a note to come back here one day and return her kindness by bringing something for her to repay her not only for the bear but also for her hospitality and advice.

I take one last glance around and turn to make my way out. 

"You certainly took your time in there" I hear a familiar voice say beside me, leaving me holding my breath for a second at the scare. "Jungkook" I say placing my hand over my chest before using that same hand seconds later to wack his arm making him drop the flowers he had started to hold out for me to take. 

"Hey! What was that for?" he whines, rubbing his arm for a few seconds and picking them back up. "That's for not only scaring me just now, but also scarring me earlier today with that stupid ambulance nonsense" I say throwing my arm out towards what I now know as being a stupid movie set and when I turn back to face him all I can see is a big grin on his face. 

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" I question crossing my arms over my chest. "You know you called me your boyfriend back there right?" he says, his smile growing even wider. I scoff at the memory and don't even dignify his words with a response, turning and making my way back to the bakery just as I had intended as my plan B.

"Wait Noona please" he says and places a light grip on my arm. "What?" I spit out, turning to face him again, a look of displeasure on my face which somehow makes him smile even wider. "Can I at least walk you home?" he asks, poised in anticipation. 

Now that the shop keeper had equated him to a dog I can't help but notice how much he's been giving off golden retriever energy these past few days. Excited and begging for my attention no matter what I say.

"I'm not going home" I say pulling my arm out of his grasp but he grabs onto my hand this time instead, making me stop again, knowing that as much as I want to, I'm probably not going to get my way this time. "Can I walk you to wherever you're going then?" he questions, now completing the look with his puppy dog eyes that pull on my heartstrings every time.

"Fine" I say and he happily catches up to me after deciding to hand the flowers off to some guy and his girlfriend, knowing for a fact that I won't take them. For a second I don't even realize that he had decided to hold my hand again until he sways them back and forth a bit making me rip mine out of his grasp and opting to cross my arms over my chest instead, leaving it hard for him to try to grab onto me again. 

~~~~~~

Walking up to the bakery a few minutes later I stop and face him for a second hoping to shoo him away. "Okay, you can leave now" I say and take a few steps but I still feel his presence close behind me. "Why are you following me?" I ask turning around again, not amused at the fact that he's not listening to me. 

"Who said I was following you? I wanted to get something from here too! You know I like the chocolate donuts here, remember?" he says giving me a soft smile. "Fine" I mumble and reach for the door handle but before I can his hand reaches for it and opens it for me. I spare him a glare and he sends me a sweet bunny smile in return making me roll my eyes in response. 

I walk in and when he tries to do the same he notices a group of older woman making their way out and he waits to hold it open for them as well and I can't help but roll my eyes again, watching him continue to play the sweet loving gentlemen. They smile and thank him a few times in return which he responds with a smile and once they're finally out he heads inside intending to stand next to me in line but is cut off by a few people between us leaving me smiling in victory but it doesn't last long. 

"Excuse me sorry do you mind? I'm with her" he says pointing towards me leaving me widening my gaze and turning around but not fast enough for the others to notice if he's lying or not. "Yeah, sure" one of the guys says and they step aside and let him walk up to me but in the process of squeezing through he stumbles and falls into me a little bit, leaving him latching onto me, pressing me up against the wall I had been leaning against. 

"S-sorry Noona" he apologizes, ears turning red clearly embarrassed at our current position. "It's fine" I grumble and push him off of me, creating some much needed space and walking up to the counter where they're waiting for the next customer. 

"Hi can I get a raspberry donut and a ham and cheese croissant? Thanks" I say and the worker looks over at Jungkook as he is standing next to me and waits for his order. "Oh we're not, we're not together" I say tripping over my words, this being the first time I've said that in front of someone while he's standing right next to me. 

The worker looks between us and draws what I can assume is a line under my order that she's written down and then asks for Jungkook's which he orders just what he had said before, a chocolate donut. 

"Thank you" he says warmly and the worker looks between the two of us, not believing my words from before but smiles almost amused by our situation and tells us our orders will be right out before handing the paper over to the cashier where she gives me my total. 

Before I'm even able to reach for my card though I see Jungkook place his phone on the card reader to pay. 

"Hey!" I say in protest while Jungkook tells her to ring him up again for his donut as well. I decide it's useless arguing with him in public and walk off to the side to wait for our food. "I can pay for my own food" I grumble as he walks up to me. "I know, but I wanted to" he says simply and we wait in silence until they hand us our bags. 

"So where are you going now?" he asks, holding the door open for me again and jogging after me, having to hold the door for the next person again. "Home" I say and make my way to the subway entrance. "Can I walk you home?" he asks, already knowing the answer but trying anyway. 

"No Jungkook. You can't. You asked if you could walk me to wherever I was going next but that isn't an invitation to follow me around for the rest of the day. Just leave me alone." I say, the last part not as confident as the rest. "I just want to make sure you get back safely" he offers and at that my blood starts boiling. 

"I'm more that capable of taking care of myself! I don't need you to babysit me because last time I checked I was the one that was older than you" spit out at him, pressing a finger on his chest. Getting more and more irritated with every breath and watch as his eyes get wide, surprised by my sudden hostile nature. 

"I'm s-sorry I didn't think tha-" "And that's exactly what your problem is. You don't think about what I want or even what I don't want. Now will you please leave me alone? I don't want to deal with this today and I don't want you to follow me" I say, punctuating my words so it'll get through his thick skull. 

He opens his mouth to respond but I cut him off again before he makes me even more upset. "Don't" I say and walk away, throwing my food away in the nearest trashcan and descend down the step into the subway station, hoping and praying he doesn't follow me. 

This time around though the universe smiles down at me, granting my wishes but leaves behind a broken and beaten down Jungkook, truly trying to figure out how everything went so wrong. 

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[softshuji]

Ran doesn't often feel deflated.

It's not often he allows himself to wallow in the moment, or the enjoy the pity he spends so long denying himself. But looking in the mirror now, at the violet turning to navy hair that stares back at him from the mirror twinkling with strobe lights, he almost allows himself a sliver of sadness. The silk of his hair, now kisses at the floor, waves upon waves that he'll miss braiding in the morning, your soft hands that tug gently on each one when you pull him back for a kiss.

Yes it does feel weird, freeing and not at the same time, when the wind moves through the strands with a lightness that his longer hair didn't allow for. There is nothing to twirl his baton around now, he thinks, as he walks the streets of Roppongi, to your apartment where he waits, with some trepidation to show you the fresh cut which was more a necessity than desire.

'Ran?' you say, when his arms come around you from behind, wet hands drying on a towel to then slide over his forearms, the cuffs now folded to the elbow, all honeyed skin where the fine hairs soak in the evening light, shell pink that has his eyes flashing fuchsia and violet.

He waits, with some apprehension as you turn around and take it in, the lack of blond locks that you could wind a hand around and tug, the short and neatly gelled purple that's carefully tucked behind his ears, curled over his proud forehead.

'So...' he says and clears his throat when he sees your eyes widen, the reflection of him in the shine of them. 'What do you think baby?' and he loathes to admit, that he'll hate it more if you do too, that really, this is all that matters, the cavern of his self-pity that might grow if you think he is somehow lesser for something as simple as this.

'It's...' and your mouth opens and closes like a fish, a hand coming up to touch his cheek, the edge where his ear meets hair, a thumb gently moving a stray strand back from where it curls at his cheekbone. 'It's different.'

'Yeah, I know.'

'You don't like it do you?' and you soften, your hand snaking to the back of his neck where your fingers twirl a few strands, a gentle tug that proves you still can, that proves it hasn't changed.

'It's not ideal. I'm just gutted it was necessary, after all the police shit that went on,' he says, a cold wet balm to the fire of his hurt, to sate the pain he thinks has been unnecessarily pulled from him, and really it was just hair, but it was his, and it was yours and maybe he enjoyed the feeling of your nails raking across his scalp a little more than he voiced. And it had been necessary, and he hadn't been the only one forced to change, and yet it never helped that he felt some part of him was somehow lacking.

You smile, soft and placating, run a hand through the back of it, the softness that kisses your skin when his hair touches your knuckles and he sighs, audibly, when you rake your nails gently across his scalp, a thrum of friction that has him almost moaning at the expert touch. 'Well I like it. Makes you look like a Dilf.'

'A Dilf?' and he pulls back, to narrow his eyes at you, boyish handsome charm that has a smirk tugging at his lips, so easily drawn and so easily given to you. 'I am neither old enough nor do we have kids.'

You feign a moment of thought and tap your lip with one finger, the other hand running down the slope of his neck to play with the edge of his collars where the inky black of his tattoo spills past the parted fabric. 'Dilf-ism isn't about age, it's a state of mind Ran, and you sir,' you whisper and pull him down, just like that, his lips a breath from yours, tantalisingly close and a supple pliant pink, 'are a Dilf.'

He raises an eyebrow, and it's palpable, the way the hurt cools in his chest, regret that turns to ashes and nothing more, the grief that's smoothed over by your love that never ends. 'What about the other part huh angel?' he says and pulls your waist to his, his pelvis knocking yours against the counter, arms trapping you between the mahogany wood of your island kitchen and the strong, toned ridges of his body.

Your breath hitches, as it always does, as it always has, reactions so easily pulled from you and with such ease. 'Other part?'

'Mhm.' And he takes your chin between his fingers, a thumb that presses to your lips to part them for himself, obedience and love and care that has the heat breaking out across your skin. 'The not having kids yet part.'

'Oh.'

'If you give me a moment of your time baby, ' he says, 'I'm sure we can change that too don't you think?'

And when he kisses you there, the rosy pink of the evening sky spilling into your kitchen, and with a hand running through the violet hues of his hair, it is with less regret, less apprehension, less like he has something to be angry at, and all the love you so easily give, that he loves and never feels deserving of.

But he is, you've always known that.

Reblogs appreciated!

(happy late birthday to this dummy, I couldn't miss the opportunity now could I? Also Dilf Ran supremacy goodbye, I stand by it.)

[pinchofhoney]

the last goodbye, part two

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

« part one | part two

pedro pascal x fem!reader

world count: 5.2k

warning: angst, age gap (the reader is in her mid 20s), mention of smoking, mention of drinking alcohol

summary: All men do is messing with your head.

a/n: i’m incredibly proud of myself that the first part evoked such emotions in you. i was totally not expecting this, as i wrote it at a time when i wasn’t in a good place mentally, feeling terrible after losing my pet. if you feel disappointed by the lack of gripping action, i apologize (not really). i don't want to rush things, i want their emotions to sink into your soul✨

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As you slowly emerged from the depths of sleep, your tired eyes flickered open, gradually adjusting to the blinding brightness of the white ceiling looming above you. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you struggled to shake off the weariness that clung to your body like a heavy blanket. It was difficult to tell how many hours you had slept, but it certainly didn't feel like enough.

You shifted your weight and let out a groan as your muscles protested against the movement. The events of the past few days had been a whirlwind, leaving you drained and achy. It's funny how mental anguish can affect your body. With a sense of resignation, you rolled over onto your side, wincing at the pain that shot through your joints. Your hand fumbled around in the air until it found the offending alarm clock, blaring its obnoxious tune throughout the bedroom.

You muttered a curse under your breath as you pressed the button to silence the alarm. Despite your reluctance to start the day, you knew that you couldn't afford to linger in bed any longer. With a deep breath, you swung your legs over the edge of the mattress and forced yourself to stand up. Another day, another- You wished you could say slay, but not today. Another set of challenges to face? More likely.

As you sluggishly made your way towards the bathroom, thoughts of Pedro crept back into your mind. It had only been two weeks since he broke up with you, but it felt like an eternity. The pain was still raw and fresh, and you struggled to make sense of it all.

Every moment you had shared with him played out in your mind like a movie, and you analyzed each one, searching for some clue, some sign of what went wrong. But it was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces – there was no explanation, no clear reason why he had ended things so abruptly.

You had loved him with all your heart and trusted him like no one before, but in the end, he had shattered your heart into a million pieces, leaving you to pick up the fragments and try to put them back together. The moment Pedro said those fateful words, the trust you had built up in him crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye. And now, you found yourself spiraling into an absurd mania, constantly questioning whether anyone in your life would leave you just like he did.

The fear of being abandoned consumed you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that everyone you cared about was destined to disappear. It was a toxic mindset, but it was deeply ingrained in you since childhood and one that you couldn't seem to escape.

On the one hand, you wanted to reach out to your friends, to let out all the pain and heartbreak that you've been holding in, but at the same time, you didn't want to burden them with your problems or risk pushing them away, so instead, you buried your emotions deep inside, hiding behind a mask of indifference and detachment. It was easier that way, at least you tried to tricked yourself in believing it was. But the truth was, the pain was eating away at you from the inside out, and you didn't know how much longer you could keep up that fake smile.

There was nothing you wanted more than to go back in time, to before everything fell apart, to the days when you were happy and carefree, but you knew that wasn't possible. All you could do was try to pick up the pieces and move forward, even though it felt like an impossible task.

Your days had become a blur of schoolwork and long shifts at the movie theater. It was a grind, but it kept you busy and distracted from the pain of your shattered heart. At least, that's what you thought, again.

Despite your best efforts to move on, your mind kept drifting back to Pedro. Every time you walked by the coffee shop where you used to have your morning cup of coffee with him, you couldn't help but look inside, hoping he would be there. You even went inside a few times, ordered a coffee, and sat down, pretending to read a book or browse your phone, all while stealing glances around the room. But he was never there, and you always left feeling disappointed and foolish.

Even going to the gym in the evenings, which used to be your solace, had become a source of anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling that everyone there knew about your breakup with Pedro and was silently judging you. As you ran on the treadmill, you felt self-conscious and exposed, as if all your flaws and vulnerabilities were on display for everyone to see.

And yet, despite all of this, you still couldn't resist the urge to go to the places where you used to go with Pedro. You found yourself walking past his favorite pizza place, just to catch a whiff of the familiar scent of marinara sauce and melted cheese. You even drove by his street once, just to see if his car was parked outside his house. You knew it was ridiculous, but you couldn't help yourself. The pain of losing him was too great, and the thought of never seeing him again was almost unbearable.

Actually saying that you will never see him again was an overstatement. Despite the heartbreak he had caused you, he was the hottest topic in entire Hollywood and beyond. His star power had skyrocketed, and his charming looks and hoarse laughter made (not only) teenage girls swoon all over the world. His photos and videos seemed to be everywhere, constantly popping up on your Instagram and Twitter feeds, taunting you with reminders of what you had lost. He was a viral sensation, and it was impossible to escape the constant barrage of Pedro's updates – a stark reminder that he was out there living his life while you were struggling to move on.

You stood in front of the mirror, studying your reflection with a heavy heart. Your once bright eyes were now surrounded by a rim of redness, and dark circles that looked like bruises appeared to have taken permanent residence beneath them. Your hair was a mess, its strands sticking out in every direction, as if it was trying to mimic the chaos you felt inside. Your skin was pale and lifeless, a far cry from its former glowing self. Just fourteen days ago, you were a different person, filled with happiness, with Pedro by your side. And now, everything was in shambles.

You shook off the memories and forced yourself to focus on the present, on getting dressed and making it to your classes on time. It was a challenge, but you tried to keep thoughts of Pedro at bay, knowing that dwelling on the past would only make the pain worse. You grabbed your bag, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the streets of Los Angeles.

As you stepped out into the blinding glare of the sun, the sounds of the bustling city enveloped you. Cars honked, people chatted, and a cool breeze caressed your face, but everything seemed distant and unimportant. You repeated to yourself the mantra to take things one step at a time, hoping that each step would lead you closer to healing the wounds Pedro had done to you.

But little did you know, he was also battling his own demons, struggling to come to terms with his actions and the hurt he had caused you. It was a cruel irony that both of you were struggling in your own ways, and neither of you knew the full extent of the other's pain.

“Pedro?” the sound of his own name snapped him out of the recesses of his head and effectively brought him down to earth. He blinked several times, trying to adjust to the bright lights shining in his direction. Looking around, he realized he was on the set of the advertisement he was working on.

The confused director approached him, placing his hands on his hips in a pretentious position. “What's going on, man?” he asked, clearly annoyed. “It's just a minute clip, all you have to say right now is to catch grandma, you have to think like grandma,” he threw his hands in the air in exasperation, then placed the fingers of one hand on the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Pedro tried to focus on the director's words, but his mind was still clouded with thoughts of you. He couldn't believe how he had treated you a day after your first anniversary, telling you that he suddenly stopped having feelings for you and breaking your heart. The day after the anniversary, which he didn't even show up for, because he didn't have the courage to do so. To look into your smiling eyes, having in the back of his mind what he had been planning for some time. The guilt was eating him alive, and he found himself replaying the scene of your breakup in his head over and over again.

He remembered very well how your face crumpled with sadness and confusion as he told you the news. How you asked him to reconsider, to give your relationship another chance. How you cried and asked him what you had done wrong. He didn't have the answers then, and he still didn't have them now.

Pedro's heart simply sank as he realized that he had made a mistake the very next day after the breakup. He had let go of someone who loved him unconditionally, someone who had been there for him through thick and thin. And for what? Because he suddenly stopped feeling the way he used to? He couldn't even be sure if that was true. Perhaps it was just a minor crisis that he could have resolved if he had spoken to you honestly.

The director ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You know what, Pedro? Take a break. Get some fresh air and clear your head. We can't afford to waste the whole day on this stupid phone game ad. Let's reconvene in 20 minutes,” he barked, his irritation palpable. Without bothering to wait for Pedro's response, he stormed off, leaving Pedro.

His eyes flitted around the room, taking in the frustrated expressions of the crew members. They had all been waiting for him to get his lines right, but he had been too distracted to focus on the task at hand. He was wasting the time and resources of his colleagues and he felt ashamed because of that.

As the director snapped out orders to the rest of the team, Pedro swiped his hand over his tired face, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath his fingertips. He let out a deep sigh, feeling drained both physically and emotionally. His mind was consumed with thoughts of what could have been, of what he had lost because of his own recklessness. He needed some space to clear his head.

Without a word, he left the building and made his way out to the back of one of the buildings in Los Angeles. The cool breeze brushed against his face, providing a much-needed respite from the chaos of the set. He let out a long breath, trying to calm himself.

It wasn't easy to pretend that everything was fine in front of everyone, because it wasn't. Every day it became harder and harder for Pedro to put on a brave face and act like he was okay. He dug out a pack of cigarettes from his blazer pocket and blindly stared into it. He quickly found the lighter in the other pocket and with his slightly shaking hand, he lit the cigarette. The familiar smell and taste of nicotine filled his senses, providing a temporary escape from the overwhelming emotions that consumed him. He leaned against the rough dirt wall of the building, the sound of the bustling city muffled in the distance. The smoke filled his lungs, choking him slightly, but he welcomed the pain, as it was a distraction from the pain in his heart.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He couldn't silence the voices in his head, telling him that he had made a huge mistake by ending things with you. The breakup had hit him harder than he ever imagined it could. He missed you so much, and the regret ate away at him with each passing day. He took another long drag of the cigarette, the tip glowing red.

Despite the comfort that the cigarette provided, Pedro knew it was a bad habit. He had managed to quit a while ago, but the stress of recent events had caused him to slip back into it. He felt guilty for indulging in it again, but at the same time, he didn't care. All he wanted was to forget his troubles, even if it was just for a little while.

Every single day during those two weeks, Pedro's thoughts were consumed by the image of him standing in front of you, while cup your face with his hands and apologizing for everything. He imagined the words he would say to you, begging for your forgiveness and hoping that you would take him back. But as much as he longed to make things right, he was too much of a coward to actually face you. He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes and see the disappointment he had caused, so he actively avoided all the places where he knew he could potentially run into you. The mere thought of seeing you filled him with a mix of intense longing and paralyzing fear.

He held onto the belief that you wouldn't be able to forgive him and the thought of being rejected by you was too much to him. The fear of embarrassment kept him from reaching out and trying to make amends, even though he knew deep down that he wanted nothing more than to be back in your warm embrace. The possibility of facing your disappointment and disapproval was a daunting prospect, and so he chose to continue avoiding you, hoping that time would eventually make him forget about you.

The sound of a notification coming from his phone snapped him back to reality and he opened his eyes. He fished the device out of his pants pocket and glanced at the screen, noticing a message from his friend, Oscar. He took a drag on the cigarette he had been smoking and read the message.

I was thinking about this birthday party. Do you want me to cancel the invitation for Y/N? – The Grumpy Eagle, sent at 3:14pm.

Pedro had completely forgotten about Oscar's upcoming birthday celebration, which he and his wife Elvira hosted every year. It was a small party, but it had become an annual tradition among their circle of friends. He knew that both of you had been invited long before the two of you broke up, and it was pretty obvious anyway, since he was Oscar's best friend and you had quickly become a favorite of Oscar's wife and kids.

He took another drag on his cigarette, thinking on response. Pedro wasn't sure if you would show up, but he knew that you disliked disappointing people, and skipping out on someone's birthday party would undoubtedly lead to disappointment. Even if you didn't enjoy celebrating your own birthday, you understood that it meant more to others and the happy memories associated with it.

No need to cancel the invitation, that’s fine. I’ll be fine. See you on Tuesday – Sent at 3:17pm.

He took one last puff of the cigarette before flicking it away and making his way back to the set, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of you.

You were in your rented apartment, standing in front of your small closet and talking to your best friend over Facetime. With your back to the screen, you felt on the verge of tears as you realized you had nothing suitable to wear to Oscar's party. The phone was propped up on your bedside table, and you turned to face Xavier's amused expression on the screen.

“I'm about to go crazy,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “I can't find anything to wear.”

Xavier chuckled and lay back on his own bed, still visible on the screen. “Relax, Y/N. We'll find something. Let me see what you've got.”

You knelt down at the table and held up a few dresses for him to see. Xavier made a face at each one, shaking his head disapprovingly. Finally, he suggested a simple black dress that you had forgotten you owned.

“That's perfect,” he said, grinning at you. “You'll look amazing. Just throw on some heels and you're good to go.”

“And what are you going to wear?” you asked, taking the phone in both hands and moving it closer to your face.

Since you didn't want to go to the party alone, you decided to bring Xavier with you, even though he didn't know anyone in Pedro's inner circle, including Oscar and Elvira. The only connection Xavier had to Pedro was through you, as they had met a few times before.

He was shocked when he heard about your breakup with Pedro two weeks ago. He had always thought that you and Pedro were perfect for each other, and it came as a surprise when you told him that things had ended between you two. He remembered how happy you had seemed with Pedro, always talking about the little things he did that made you fall even more in love with him. It was hard to believe that it was all over now.

Xavier had been there for you through all the tears and heartbreak that came with the breakup. He was the only person you really talked to about what happened. He had listened to you vent about Pedro, and had even gone as far as to offer to confront him about the way he had hurt you, but you had refused, saying that it wouldn't change anything, and that you just needed time to heal.

Now, as he watched you on Facetime, he could see the sadness in your eyes. He knew that finding something to wear to this birthday party was the least of your worries.

“Oh, you know, my finest t-shirt and jeans,” he answered with a playfully tone. “Maybe I'll even splurge and wear my dress shoes instead of my sneakers.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Don't worry, I'll make sure to tuck my shirt in for the occasion.”

You laughed at Xavier's words, feeling relieved that he could make light of the situation. “Well, make sure you don't outshine me too much,” you teased. “I don't want to be upstaged by your dress shoes and tucked-in shirt.”

Xavier chuckled. “No worries, you'll be the star of the show,” he said reassuringly. “But seriously, don't stress about it. We'll have a good time no matter what.”

His words were comforting and a feeling of appreciation and thankfulness filled your heart. “Thanks, Xavier,” you said, smiling. “I really appreciate you coming with me.”

Xavier grinned. “Of course, what are friends for?” he replied. “Besides, I would do anything to see Pedro's face when he sees you in that dress. He's going to regret ever letting you go.”

You laughed, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the thought of Pedro's reaction. “I doubt he'll care,” you said, shrugging it off. “But it'll be nice to look good for myself, at least.”

Xavier shook his head. “Trust me, he'll care,” he said with a wink and then stood up from his bed, straightening his shirt. “Alright, I better get ready too. I need to iron my jeans and find my fanciest t-shirt,” he joked. “I'll pick you up at 7. See ya!” he said before ending the call, at which you smiled to yourself, feeling grateful for your friend's support.

As you and Xavier made your way to the door of Oscar's house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on you. You clutched the gift tightly in your hand, hoping it will help you calm down. You turned to Xavier, about to voice your concerns about this evening, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, it's going to be fine,” Xavier said, sensing your unease. “We'll have a good time. And don't worry about Pedro, I'll not leave you alone even for a moment. When I go to the toilet, I'll drag you along with me,” he joked trying to boost your mood.

You let out a deep sigh. “I'm scared.”

Xavier smiled reassuringly. “I know, but we'll stick together and make the most of it,” he said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “And besides, you look amazing. Pedro's going to regret all of his life choices.”

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at the compliment. “Thanks,” you said, feeling a little less anxious. “Okay, let's do this.”

As you approached the door, your heart rate started to increase again. You could hear the sound of laughter and chatter from inside grew louder, intensifying your apprehension. But before you could even think about turning back to Xavier's car, Elvira opened the door and greeted you warmly. “Y/N!” she called out joyfully, pulling you into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of Elvira's perfume and the comforting warmth of her hug helped ease your nerves a little bit.

“It's so good to see you,” Elvira continued. “Oscar will be so happy you came. You know damn well how much he liked you.”

You smiled gratefully at her words, while Elvira already shifted her gaze to the man standing next to you.

“And who's this handsome gentleman with you?” Elvira asked, pulling away from you and turning to Xavier.

Xavier extended his hand. “I'm Xavier. Y/N's best friend,” he introduced himself with a smile.

Elvira shook his hand. “I'm Elvira, Oscar's wife. Nice to meet you,” she said warmly.

You suddenly felt an odd need to explain why you brought a stranger to their house, even though you knew that Elvira was aware of the recent events.

“I didn't want to come alone, the last days were-” you started to explain, but Elvira quickly cut you off, sensing your discomfort.

“That's fine, Y/N. You don't need to explain yourself, we both know what happened,” Elvira said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze to encourage you. “Come on in,” she added, motioning towards the open door and stepping aside to let you both enter the house.

As you walked past her, Elvira turned her gaze to Xavier and sent him a warm smile. You couldn't help but feel grateful for her kindness and understanding, and you knew that you were in good hands for the evening.

The birthday party was in full swing, with colorful decorations hanging from the ceiling and walls, and a large cake with lit candles in the center of the room. The scent of savory and sweet treats wafted through the air, making your mouth water.

Oscar was the center of attention, greeting his guests with a big smile and warm hugs. He was surrounded by his closest friends, chatting and laughing away, and occasionally stopping to pose for a picture with them.

You, on the other hand, felt out of place in the midst of the older crowd, except for Oscar's children, who were running around and playing games. You had hoped to have a conversation with Pedro, but he avoided your gaze the entire time, which made you feel uncomfortable and self-conscious.

However, Xavier was by your side throughout the evening, keeping you company and making you laugh with his witty remarks and stories. You introduced him to some of the people at the party, and of course to Oscar, and he encouraged you to dance, which helped you loosen up and enjoy the party a little more.

As the night wore on, the guests started to leave one by one, and the house grew quieter. The children were already fast asleep, and the adults seemed to be in a mellower mood, with lighter snacks and drinks replacing the heavier ones from earlier in the evening.

You found yourself in the kitchen with Xavier, enjoying a lively conversation with Elvira and Oscar about the latest news in the city. Elvira was recounting her recent trip to Europe when Oscar suddenly interrupted her by reaching for a bottle of wine and pouring it into a set of glasses.

“Let's raise a toast to life, to good friends, and to family,” Oscar exclaimed, lifting his glass. You all joined in, clinking your glasses together, laughing and toasting to the good times. The mood had shifted from one of excitement to one of warmth and sentimentality.

As you took a sip of the wine, you noticed Pedro standing at the edge of the room, watching you with an intense gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you felt a strange mix of discomfort and confusion. You had wanted to talk to him earlier in the evening, but he had been avoiding you, so his sudden interest now was puzzling. Feeling the need for comfort and safety, you moved closer to Xavier, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulders. You didn't know if Pedro was still watching you, but you felt better in your friend’s presence.

To your surprise, Pedro suddenly approached the four of you, inserting himself into the conversation. He started to talk about a recent article he had read in the newspaper, bringing up a topic that interested everyone. Xavier and Elvira seemed to welcome his presence, and Oscar was glad to have his longtime friend join in. However, you couldn't shake the feeling that his gaze was still fixed on you, even as he talked with the others.

As the conversation continued, Oscar and Elvira decided to check in with the guests in the living room, leaving you, Xavier, and Pedro alone in the kitchen. The silence was palpable as you all stood there, unsure of what to say or do next. Pedro finally broke the silence, turning his attention to you.

“So, Y/N, I can see that you are having fun?” he asked, his eyes still lingering on you.

You tried to hide your discomfort, forcing a smile and answering politely, “Yeah. I try to, at least.”

It was hard not to notice that Pedro wasn't completely sober – although he wasn't fully drunk either. He kept shooting unpleasant glances at Xavier every now and then and his eyes were colder than always.

Your friend seemed oblivious to Pedro's behavior, but you knew better. You could feel the tension rising in the room, and you started to feel anxious. Pedro's jealousy was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if he still had feelings for you, even though you weren’t a thing anymore.

Trying to diffuse the situation, you asked Pedro how his job was going, hoping to steer the conversation away from any uncomfortable topics. He answered curtly, barely giving you any information, and then turned his attention back to Xavier, sizing him up with a cold stare.

You felt your heart rate increase, sensing that things were about to get out of hand. You knew that you needed to do something, but you weren’t sure what. As you opened your mouth to speak, Pedro cut you off.

“Two weeks were enough for you to find a replacement, huh?”

His question made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Pedro's words didn't make sense to you, and you glanced over at Xavier, who looked equally confused. Pedro scoffed and clarified, “I saw you two earlier. I saw the way you look at him, Y/N. And now here you are, pretending to be just friends.”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment and anger. How dare he accuse you of something like that? The jealousy in Pedro's eyes was unmistakable, and it was clear that he didn't believe in your friendship with Xavier, even though he knew him.

Xavier stepped in, sensing the tension rising in the room, his voice calm but firm. “Pedro, let's take a deep breath and calm down for a moment. You’re tipsy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Pedro wasn't backing down, his eyes fixed on Xavier, even though he was actually speaking to you. “I don't trust him. And I don't trust you, Y/N.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and your heart sank in your chest. You couldn't believe what Pedro was saying. How could he accuse you of being untrustworthy when he was the one who had abandoned you without any explanation? Anger and sadness boiled inside you, making it hard to even form coherent thoughts, and the tears started to gather in your eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You were the one who stood me out on the day of our anniversary. It was you who came to break up with me the next day without giving me any explanation. It was you-you…” the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down your face, mixing with the anger and frustration that you felt. You sniffed and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “How dare you tell me that you don't trust me?” you said, your voice shaking with emotion.

Pedro's expression softened slightly, and for a moment, you thought that he might actually apologize for his absurd behavior, but then, his gaze hardened again, and he shook his head.

“I had my reasons,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And I don't need to justify them to anyone.”

You stared at him in silence, trying to make sense of his sudden outburst. He's being unreasonable and irrational, you thought. You shook your head in disbelief and took a step back. “You know what?” you asked, staring into Pedro's eyes. “I will not talk to you. I'm not going to listen to you suddenly make me some kind of scolding because alcohol went to your head. You're a grown man, and you're acting like a kid,” you barked, your anger seeping through every syllable. You then turned your back on Pedro, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry again.

You left him, standing motionless in the kitchen with his eyes fixated on the door through in which you had just disappeared with Xavier. His heart was heavy with regret as he realized that he fucked up again. He knew that he had messed up, that he had let his jealousy and insecurities take control of his words and actions. He desperately wanted to talk to you on this party, to apologize for his behavior and make things right, but now it was too late for that. He had taken a few drinks to calm his nerves, hoping that it would help him find the courage to talk to you, but now he realized that it had only fueled his anger and made things worse. The sight of you laughing and chatting with Xavier had been the final blow, and now he was left alone with his regrets once again.

[supercorpkid]

Harun-El Saves The Day

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Lena Luthor x BabyDanvers!Reader, Kara Danvers x sister!reader, Alex Danvers x sister!reader

Word count: 2640

Note: Angst. The one where James never once existed, but saving people with Harun-El did.

"I'm sorry." Lena fits herself inside your embrace, laying her head on your shoulder. She is a small person, but right now she feels even smaller.

"Please don't apologize for this." You kiss the crown of her head, tightening the hug.

Lena breathes out heavily. "I can't do it. Can't figure it out."

"It's ok, my love." Your hand travels up her back until you reach her hair. "Hey, look at me." Lena's eyes are so full of tears, it's hard for you to keep your own tears in check. "People have researched this for years, and still haven't figured it out."

Lena locks eyes with you. "But I have to."

"We have time." 

But you don't. Not really. And she knows this probably better than you.

"Not enough, honey." Her hand goes to your hair, she scrapes the nape of your neck trying to comfort you. But then she runs her fingers to your hair, and a chunk of it comes out in her hand easily. She looks at it with a terrified expression.

"It's just hair." You make sure, when a fresh set of tears spring on her eyes.

"I'm going back to the lab." Lena doesn't give you time to argue. It doesn't matter that she just came back from the lab. Doesn't matter that it is late at night and that you know she probably hasn't eaten anything all day. Doesn't matter that you miss her dearly. So back to the lab she goes, and alone at home you stay.

Supergirl's feet touch on the balcony and you spare a quick look from over your shoulder when you register the familiar sound on the floor.

"I'm ok." You defend yourself, before she even makes her way inside the penthouse. Slowly the balcony door slides open, and your sister comes in. 

"I heard you coughing." Kara explains herself, and also lets you know that she is aware that you're not ok.

"People are allowed to cough." You say in a joking manner, even though your heart is squeezed on your chest.  

You look down to the tissue in your hand, and cling to it harder, so she doesn't see it's covered in blood.

"Not when I'm patrolling, they're not." She quips, a hint of humor in her voice, though you can sense the same weight pressing down on her heart. You take a deep breath as your sister comes closer and sits next to you. She is quick to wrap her arms around your torso, trying to make you feel comfortable. Kara's gaze sweeps the dimly lit apartment. "Where's Lena?"

"Lab."

"Right." Her large hands rest reassuringly around your ribcage, a sense of comfort that you rather keep to yourself. There's enough pity going around these days. "Alex and Brainy are also –"

"I know."

"We're all just –"

"I know."

You let out a heavy sigh. Kara kisses the top of your head, and you know the next time she opens her mouth is so she can give you one of her signature hope speeches. 

But you don't want it. Can't have it. You’re tired of having hope, when it has led you nowhere. You’re sick and dying and that’s the whole truth. If the smartest people in the world can’t find a cure, it’s because there isn’t one.

And as if she can read your mind, Kara says nothing. Instead, she tightens the hug, breath shredding out like a silent cry. 

You cough again and again. Try to hold it inside, but it comes out strong and painfully. Your mouth is full of blood, and you're sure of that because it tastes metallic. Your sister lets go of your frail figure so she can grab another tissue to clean you up. 

You watch her eyes while she slowly runs it over the sides of your mouth and chin. She cries silent tears, blinking them away and biting the inside of her mouth to keep herself from crying out loud. And it pains you to see the happiest, bubbliest, nicest person on the planet like this, but there's nothing you can say to stop the tears cascading down her face.

“What good are all these powers, if I can’t save the people I love the most?”

You try a little smile, when her hand moves away from your face. “Your powers don’t exist for you to save the people you love.”

“Then what do they exist for, if not for you?”

“I don’t know, sis. Maybe there’s no reason. Maybe they just do.”

Kara furrows her brows, confusion crossing her face. “You used to think differently.”

“Well, I used to think we all existed for a reason, but I’m dying and I still don’t know what I’m here for, so —“

Kara fights the urge to tell you that you’re not dying, knowing that ignoring the harsh reality now is just useless, anyways. Not while she's holding your pale and frail body in such a protective manner and when she can feel you are, truly, slowly dying.

"I don't know who I'll be without you." 

You trace the crest on her chest, forcing a sad smile out. "You'll be my sister whether I'm here or not."

You feel the bed dipping next to you, and you venture opening your eyes slowly. You can see a little bit of light coming from the window, even with the curtains closed, so you know it's day already. 

"Come." You say, opening your arms, and Lena startles with the sound of your voice.

"Didn't mean to wake you up." She says, adjusting her body on yours. You breathe deep thinking about how perfectly your bodies still slot together, even though you're half of what you're used to be. 

"It's ok. I'd rather sleep with you, anyways." You don't know what you said wrong, but you realize something is when Lena cries about it. 

“I’m sorry.” She says again. It seems that lately all she does is apologize, like any of this is happening because of her. “I don’t want you to go to bed alone, but I need to find out the cure. I need you so bad.”

“I know, my love.” You kiss her shoulder, trying to apply more pressure into the hug. “It’s a tough situation and we’re trying to navigate it the best way we can.”

Lena turns around to look at you, breath hot on your face. “I’m sorry this is happening.”

“It’s not your fault.” 

“I’m still sorry.” She whispers and you understand exactly what she means, because you're sorry too. You're sorry about what happens after you leave. You're sorry about the amount of pain and sorrow your absence will inflict on Lena, your sisters, your mom, and your friends. You are sorry about many things you have no control over.

"Me too."

“I know you're still here, but God! I miss you already.” Lena's tears keep falling, no matter how hard you know she is trying to hold them back.

You give her a sad smile, followed by a little peck on her lips. “You said it yourself, I’m still here.”

"Yes," Lena deepens the kiss, and when she finally parts them it's only to whisper on your lips. "I love you today."

You furrow your eyebrows at her, "What about tomorrow?"

"Stay and ask me again then."

You smile at her, love almost bursting out of you and you know she can see it in your eyes how you feel, but you tell her anyway. "Well, I love you for evermore." You kiss her cheek to avoid looking at her while you say it. "You know, in case I die."

"Hey!" You hear Alex's voice probably coming from the front door. You know Lena has given your sisters a key to her apartment so they can come and check on you, but you still can't get used to them just wandering inside. "If you two are having sex, please let me know right now!"

You roll your eyes. You don't feel tough enough to yell out to her, so you let her make her way to the bedroom. "Hey, Al."

"Hey you." Alex makes her way closer, sitting on the bed next to you. "Made it out of the bed today?"

You manage to deny it with your head. 

She looks around. "Oh, Lena's not here." 

"Nope. Couldn't be having sex. And it's actually kinda cute that you think I'm still strong enough to do it." 

She smiles. "Learned the hard way that I can never be too careful when it comes to you and Lena." You finally notice what she has in one of her hands and roll your eyes at it. "What?"

"Why are you doing this? I'm dying. No amount of examination is going to change that." 

Alex's eyes get full of tears instantly, she bites the inside of her mouth, as if telling herself not to cry. "We just have to keep you alive until we find the cure."

"I hope you're real close."

She swallows, cleaning her tears. "Look, I – I promised myself I'd always keep you safe." She bites her lip and looks up. "And I – can't lose you, ok? So, toughen up."

You chuckle lightly when she carefully 'punches' your arm, jokingly. 

"Let's check your vitals."

You hold her hand before she starts. "How about you lay next to me and tell me what happened after Princess Alex fought the dragon."

Alex smiles, remembering the stories from when you were younger. She does as promised, holding you tight and telling you how Princess Alex got the girl in the end. 

You feel yourself falling asleep, slowly losing consciousness. And it's nice, almost peaceful. You're glad this is how you get to go. You wish Kara and Lena were also here, but if you're dying in someone's arms, might as well be inside your older sister's embrace.

That is until Alex wakes you up, terror washing over her as she urges you to stay awake.

"Your pulse is weak. I'm calling Kara."

"Alex, I'm dying." And she knows it. Alex is actively fighting it, even though she sees that the flicker of hope in your eyes is fading.

"Stop talking for a second, I need to do a first aid maneuver on you."

"Al –" You try to argue, even though it is a waste. You never once won an argument against Alexandra Danvers, it wouldn't be now she would let you win. Besides, you're feeling too dizzy, and you're sure you're about to faint.

"No. Talking." She says, applying pressure on your chest and you lose all your breath. Your eyes close unwillingly and you hear Alex's faint voice yelling in the back.

"STAY WITH ME! Open your eyes. Hey, please, please. Stay with me. You're going to be ok."

You're not going to be ok.

You wake up at the hospital. You can hear the faint voice of some doctors, but those are not the voices that wake you up.

"What I'm about to do is absolutely illegal. Any witnesses will be considered accessories to a crime." You hear Lena's voice, and open your eyes enough to see all of the nurses and doctors scrambling away.

"Well, aren't I in love with a criminal?" You joke and Lena rolls her eyes at you. Looking around the room and checking all of your vital signs in the machines.

"I got the cure." She comes closer, touching your weaker figure, making you smile. "Right on time, apparently."

"The – The cure?" You try to perk up, but you don't move much. "What is it?"

"Harun-El. Right from your sister's planet." 

"How –" Your question is put to stop when you start coughing like crazy. Lena is fast to clean your mouth. "did you come across Harun-El?”

“It’s not important.” She deflects, not being able to look at your face. “We have to act fast, your pulse is weak and the oxygen support is at its max.”

“Lena.” You think about how two days ago she was nowhere near a cure and now, all of the sudden, she stumbled across Harun-El and realized she can use it to save you. “Lena, what did you do?”

“I got the cure.” She says, certain.

You hold her arm weakly. “Tell me how.”

Lena closes her eyes, breathes deep. Shame is visible on her expression. “Lex.”

“Lena.” It’s by your tone that she knows you’re trying to tell her off.

“I know, ok? I know!” Lena sits on the hospital bed, one tear sliding down her cheek. “I made a deal with the devil but — but I get to save you!”

You try to master all your strength for this. “Your brother is a bad person and he will use you!”

“Yeah. And I’m gonna let him because you will be alive. And you know what? That’s all that matters to me.” 

You look at the syringe on her hands, finding it hard to trust something that came from Lex Luthor.

“Please, don’t let it be in vain. I did it. I’m compromised. But I get to save you.” 

You cough, she cleans the blood again and nods for you to just accept it.

You try to catch your breath before speaking again. “What did my sisters say?”

“I didn’t run it by them. You’re here. You’re capable of making your own decisions. It’s your life.” Lena breathes out one more time, knowing you’re wasting time.

“So if I say no, you’re gonna let me die?”

Lena forces a smile, and raises her eyebrow. “Ok, you got me. I’m not letting you die. I guess you don’t really have a choice, huh?”

“I guess not.” 

Lena's finger traces your face delicately. She breathes out and looks at you with complete resolution. "You have to be here so I can tell you that I love you tomorrow."

You give her a little nod. 

"Let me get your sisters here for this." She doesn't have to say anything else for your sisters to barge in the room, proving Kara was definitely using her super hearing. 

"We're here." Both Kara and Alex make their way towards the bed. "We're accessories to a crime."

"Yes, you are. And we'll talk about that super hearing later."

"Hey, my sister is dying!" 

"Kara, can you see the problem?" Lena asks and Kara points at the middle of your chest. Lena gives her the big syringe and nods at it. You look at her, confused as to why she isn't doing it herself, but when she comes closer and kisses you gently, you understand it perfectly. If this doesn't work, she wants to be the one holding you. "I love you today."

It's quick. You think. When you wake up again and they're still around you. Alex is checking your vitals, Kara is serving as an X-Ray machine literally narrating how your body is doing a fast recovery, and Lena is holding your hand with so much strength it's starting to hurt.

"So," You talk without much effort, feeling the best you've felt in months. "do I get superhero powers now?"

Kara looks at Lena in shock, "Does she?"

"NO! She doesn't get superhero powers, she gets to live!" Lena rolls her eyes, annoyed that this is the first thing you said after she literally just saved your life. You barely have any color back on your face and you're already asking stupid questions. Well, she is your partner. She should've known better by now.

"Aw." Both you and Kara pout for a second, and then a second later add, "I mean, YAY!" 

"Are you sure she isn't a little bit Kryptonian now?" It's Alex's time to ask with a smile on her face.

"No." Lena looks at you fondly, hand running over your face softly. "Just my silly baby Danvers."

"Our silly baby Danvers."

[themotherofhorses]

🖤

pairing: aemond targaryen x modern!wife!reader

prompt: 🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

jla masterlist

"Aemond," came her gentle voice, lovely as ever. "My dear husband. .."

Aemond is on his feet at once, scrambling for her hand in his. Could it be true? Does his very eye fool him? Perhaps, he tells himself...but no, she is there, standing in front of him, clothed in a rich green gown.

Gods be good. "My love," he whispers while inching closer, desperate to feel his beloved girl for the first time in four long months, "-oh, my sweet girl, please. . .please, let me touch you, let your husband hold you."

Don't you dare disappear. Do not vanish, do not leave me again.

But his wife remains still, shoulders straight as she smiles at him. Beautiful. Gorgeous. My love. She allows him to cradle her pretty face between his palms. Exquisite, the prince thinks, breathing deeply, running a finger across her plump bottom lip.

Against his clammy hands, her skin is soft- perfect, as he holds her in a tight grasp, too terrified of letting her go. Aemond tilts her head up, pressing his lips to her forehead; it has been so long since he kissed her.

She tastes the same as before, of the heavens and the open skies and fresh air and the finest Lannister wine.

No, she tastes like his dreams and deepest fantasies and his future life.

"I have missed you," he mumbles, in a quivery voice, feeling several tears already swelling in his eyes. He tries to blink them away. "So much. I have missed you so much. . ."

His wife loops her arm behind his neck, raising to her tippy toes. "I am here, husband," she assures, kissing him. He feels himself break down in broken sobs, kissing her back with all too much passion and strength and anguish.

Tears streak down his cheeks as Aemond clutches her body flush against his, kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing. She moans into his mouth, but he hiccups and weeps, gripping her chin between two fingers.

I love you. I love you. I love you so fucking much.

"Don't leave me again," he whimpers against her lips, sliding his tongue along hers. "I will not survive if I'm to lose you once again." And he means it.

Aemond wakes up in his bed, alone and red-eyed, his chest rising and falling through heavy pants. No. No. No. He glances to the left, her side that still remains empty and untouched.

He wants to scream, to shout and curse the gods for letting this pain ravage his body and soul. He wants to cry. He wants to feel her smooth hips and delicious kisses and devotion.

Instead, Aemond rolls to his side and tugs the bedclothes up to hide his flushed face. Dawn was breaking. Soon it would be morning, and his mother would expect him to break fast with her.

Another day without her. He should be used to it, he tells himself bitterly.

His tears tell him different.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 146 thoughts

This chapter (and thus this chapter review) contains discussion of abuse, suicidal ideation and CSA, so if you're not in the headspace for that, skip this one and I'll see you next time.

we are so oshi no back

After last chapter left me fighting for my life to come up with literally anything to say about it, this was one of those chapters where I ended up having more and more to say about it the more I turned it over in my head. It still feels a bit disjointed and has that same issue of ripping through the events of the movie way too fucking fast that the arc as a whole has been having lately but this chapter was such a breath of fresh air I can't bring myself to care.

The chapter itself is more or less split in two, with one half dedicated to 15 Year Lie's in-universe events and the other focusing a bit on Aqua and Kana for, tbh, the first time in way too long. Admittedly, my enthusiasm for 15YL has waned given the reveal of just how much of it is completely made up but like. I'm still gonna over analyze this stuff. Sunk cost fallacy, don't fail me now!!!!

I joke, but the 15YL section of this chapter was legitimately bone chilling. That barrage of cuts following Uehara's attack on Airi…. fuuuuuuuck, man.

Airi herself is pure fucking poison this chapter too and I mean it in the best way. I continue to be incredibly impressed with how OnK understands the motivations of a person like Airi what her abuse of Hikaru is really about. When discussing this in 141, Miyako points out just how often victims of abuse can themselves go on to perpetuate their own pain out of a need to try and regain their dignity, but I think what Airi seeks in her abuse of Hikaru is control. We see how often she wields her power over him while pretending that he has as much agency as she does in their """relationship""" and it's repeated here, too; she throws the results of her own sexual abuse of him in his face as a way of permanently chaining the two of them together, all while tearing down his worth as a person as if to 'prove' he deserves to be trapped in her grasp. I've said before that Akasaka is unsettlingly good at writing toxic mothers but I think Airi has made it pretty clear that Akasaka understands and is thus excellent at writing abuse and abusers in general, and for someone like me who counts that as one of their favourite Themes (tm) in fiction, I feel quite well fed.

The abuse Airi hurls at him is also interesting from a perspective of paralleling Hikaru even further with Ai. We saw snippets of this in 140, of Hikaru characterizing himself as someone desperately trying to construct a version of himself that can be loved by others the same way Ai creates 'Ai of B-Komachi', a version of herself who can give and receive love in the way she thinks her authentic self is unable to. Airi puts this into more explicit words; Hikaru must construct this fake version of himself because there is no 'real' him and thus, he is inherently unlovable. Jesus Christ.

Knowing those words were swimming around in his head, it makes the HKAI scene that follows even more of a gutpunch than it already is. It's the most wonderful kind of miscommunication tragedy - with their respective traumas, there is basically no other way a talk like that could have gone and yet it's agonizing to see it play out. Ai's innocent cruelty in the face of Hikaru's pain and her suffocating smile… the worst part is, while I completely understand why this was so shattering for Hikaru, it's impossible to miss that this was, in a way, an expression of love from Ai; it was honesty, an admission of vulnerability. She herself even says she doesn't want to lie to him. But to Hikaru, what else could that have sounded like but a confirmation of his most godawful fear?

that said. the timeline here is very confusing. this seems to imply hkai were still dating all the way up to the murder-suicide, which seemed to be just before the dome concert but did the breakup really seem that recent during their phone call?? this whole timeline is penised beyond repair.

The art in this chapter in general is incredibly good but something in particular I want to highlight is how much and how often Aqua-as-Hikaru looks like Ai in these panels. I can't put my finger on what it is, but that similarity always makes me feel so warm and sad whenever I see it. For as much as he struggles with his relationship to her, Aqua really is his mother's son through and through.

and. man. what even is there to say about that scene in the rain and everything that follows. I was't sure if the murder/suicide was going to be featured in the movie but even the brief snippet of it that we got and that barrage of scene titles and Kamiki's silent scream… whoof. shit like this makes me really hope we get to see mengo illustrate a horror manga someday because i think she would absolutely kill it.

We cut back to reality to see Aqua reading the script and in perhaps the most interesting swerve in this chapter, we see that he has once again reverted to his double black hoshigans. And uh, am I going to sound like a terrible person if I say I'm really glad for this? LOL.

Obviously I would rather Aqua not be experiencing Suicidal Ideation (Bass Boosted) 24/7, but it's kind of a relief to see that one single conversation wasn't enough to totally shake Aqua out of that headspace. I've talked a lot about how frustrating I find it that 'Ruby finds out Aqua is Gorou' is treated as the finale to her black hoshigan arc and every ongoing thread, internal and external, attached to it was dropped like a rock with no further interrogation. It robbed Ruby of the opportunity for some really important growth and, imo, was just shitty for Kana and Memcho who were treated extremely poorly by her and got no apology for it. I was really worried this would be the case for Aqua as well and that his own dip into that rancid headspace would end on a wet fart which would really sting given just how little insight we've gotten into him this arc. But this chapter makes it clear that while some cracks have started to form in his armor, he's not in the clear just yet.

i mean, even if he was permanently back to one white star, aqua is such a little freak regardless………………………….

What this means in the long term is a little hard to pin down, both because we've had so little insight into Aqua's headspace this arc and because the exact nature of black hoshigan as a symbol has always been a little Calvinballed, but in this context and for Aqua specifically, I think we can read this as his conviction in the messy endgame of his revenge play being shaken up. I, personally, have been reading the black hoshigan as of late as an expression of the sort of futureless despair that can become suicidal ideation, at least for Aqua; since immediately after Ai's death, we have gotten incredibly strong hints that Aqua is suicidal, his guilt-fueled desire to die and his desperate want to experience a happy future at war within him. He more or less explicitly says as such in 106, expressing that this break in their relationship is necessary for Ruby to be able to live on 'after he's gone' - which strongly implies that Aqua's revenge play is intended to end with his death.

Knowing that Ruby is Sarina wasn't quite enough to shake his conviction, but their talk in 143 was. I do think Ruby just giving him some straightforward affirmation was a good starting point but I also can't help but wonder, with the context that his white stars were not indicative of a permanent change, if hearing just how deeply Ruby still relies on 'Gorou's' presence in her life struck a nerve for him. Paraphrasing her from 143, she straight up says Gorou is the one who gives her life meaning. And if that's how it is, what exactly will happen if he's gone again..?

Obviously this is all still speculation because even when I am begging on hand and knee Akasaka is refusing to give us Aqua introspection but at this point I have to make a guess at SOMETHING if i am going to say anything remotely coherent about aqua in this arc, so

ANYWAY!! AQUA AND KANA HAVING A NORMAL ASS CONVERSATION FOR THE FIRST TIME IN GOD KNOWS HOW LONG!!! Ngl, it did give me a bit of a chuckle to see Kana voice the question of whether Aqua was getting too immersed in his role, given that people were accusing her of that back during the first round of the RBKN conflict.

I was also really surprised to see Aqua just outright say that yeah, he is at least flirting with suicidal ideation. Like - that's the first time he's said that out loud, to anybody??? In 143 he voices the less damning but still not great sentiment that he feels guilty for being alive but this is to my knowledge the first time Aqua has expressed his suicidal ideation out loud, let alone to anyone else. And… fuck, man! That's an absolutely terrifying thing to hear a friend say. No wonder Kana reacts like she does.

Because of my powers of Claire-voyance (read: basic pattern recognition and being in fandoms for 15+ years), I'm pretty sure people are going to be Very Mean to Kana about the way she chooses to respond to Aqua here but honestly? Not only did this tough love response feel very IC for her, but the clumsiness of it felt very honest to me. I think a lot of people in fandom lately just want characters to talk like fucking therapists all the time and have the Correct And Unproblematic Response to… well, situations like this. But Kana is an 18 year old girl who has her own share of issues and her friend she knows is dealing with his own huge amount of baggage just casually dropped an "i wanna kms" on her. All things considered, I think she handles it surprisingly well.

Because like… look at what Kana really says to Aqua here. She gives him some of their usual banter to diffuse the tension but then makes herself very clear: she does not want Aqua to hurt himself and makes him promise that he won't. It's clumsy and rough in the way Kana often is, but I think the important part - her sincere care for Aqua as her friend - really does shine through.

also cute that other people caught: Kana squishing Aqua's face seems to be an intentional callback to one of their on-stage interactions in Tokyo Blade, right down to Aqua making a identical scrunchyface to Kana. Extremely cute. I love it when Aqua is cute <3

Kana also being a person able to shake Aqua out of his black hoshigans also leans into something I've been hoping is going to pay off for a while now; the idea that Aqua's salvation is not going to come from any one, singular character but from the many different people who Aqua has built relationships with coming together when he needs them to support him. One of the things OnK has continually highlighted is the way isolation and lacking support systems warp and damage people's mental health and I think it would play excellently into that theme to have Aqua's support net, so to speak, to be wide enough to catch him no matter where he falls.

the product placement was very stupid but i did laugh pretty hard at it and then immediately go buy myself some potato chips so i guess it worked. genius mangaka aka akasaka.

All jokes aside, the note their talk ended off on was so lovely too. Aqua being honest enough to admit that being with Kana is fun and Kana getting all dokidoki and then quietly admitting she feels the same when she's alone… cute! But more than that, it highlights something about the AQKN dynamic I think is really important, regardless of whether their relationship is romantic, platonic, in laws, mlm/wlw hostility or whatever else; Kana is his friend and he can just be a normal boy and have normal fun with her without any ulterior motives. It's something Aqua doesn't really have in any of his other relationships so getting a reminder of that and what it means to Aqua was really good.

honestly i think i am just so starved of nice things happening to my son that seeing him opening up to one of his friends and admitting he has fun (HIS LAUGH!!!!!!) was like a shot of heavenly ambrosia for me. please can hoshino aqua have just one nice day.

OR UH… BASED ON THAT LAST PAGE…. PROBABLY NOT ANYTIME SOON….!!!

this is what i mean about this chapter giving me 5000000 things to talk about. kamiki is TALKING TO RUBY IN THE FLESH FOR THE FIRST TIME and i almost completely forgor.

why is he dressed like a dad about to take her out on a fishing trip, though

Ruby looks unusually solemn while she's praying, which is interesting. She's been pretty bright and high energy since 141ish so I'm curious what has her looking so comparatively dour. She's praying at a shrine, too, which means there's probably something on her mind. Nik (@akane-kurokawa) theorized that she's anxious about the upcoming scenes in the movie (LIKE, YOU KNOW, HER MOM'S DEATH) and until we get further insight on that, that's what I'm gonna assume too.

putting aside how Shrimptresting it is that Kamiki turned up out of nowhere like that, I can't help but note a certain horrible parallel between Uehara meeting young Hikaru in the rain with a black umbrella and Kamiki doing the same for his daughter…

cannot wait for that entire talk to get offscreened. lol.

break next week……………………………

[fandomonetwo]

fear — steve harrington

▸summary: you expect people to do die with honour, with bravery, with courage. you died with fear. steve can't know.

▸characters: steve harrington x gn!reader, eddie munson, dustin henderson

▸tw: angst. like, really bad. it's an issue.

▸a/n: i don't actually know what goes on inside my brain. for some reason, i just really like angst.

LOVE HURT.

IT was something that multiple people agreed upon. Steve Harrington was one of them. 

The whole party had some semblance of loss somewhere in their hearts, but Steve… 

It just seemed like something was gunning for him, sucking the happiness one loss at a time. 

Steve had never before known what love could’ve been until he met you. There was always something about you that never seemed to leave him alone. Whether it was that stupid grin, the stupid hair, the stupid arms, the stupid hugs, the stupid sappy words. Everything that Steve missed out on was being passed onto him like he was a reject shop, which was what he felt like. You gave him love, gave him hope, gave him life even. 

Then you died. 

When Dustin and Eddie came back through the portal without you, Steve freaked out. When Dustin couldn’t scream the words without them catching in his throat, Steve begged him to keep them there. When Dustin said he wasn’t strong enough to carry you and Eddie was on his way to collapse, Steve screamed that he was. He was strong. He could do it. He could, he promised he could. With tears in his eyes and dirt on his face and his hand on his chest, he promised he could carry you back. With his knees on the ground and his voice lost in the wind, he promised he could. 

So he ripped himself up like he wanted to rip his heart out of his body, ignoring the cries and begs of the people behind him. He had never moved faster in his life than when he was climbing into that portal, throwing open the caravan door, sprinting to the figure that lay in the dust. His voice returned as he screeched, flailing his arms to rid the area of any of the bats that might have smelled the meat, the fresh kill. There were no bats flying. They had all dropped a while ago. He knelt next to the person he had recklessly given everything to, shaking your shoulders and begging you to wake up. He didn’t stop asking the favour, even when he claimed it was too cold for you here, dragging you body upright into a standing position. He didn’t stop asking even when he began walking, praying that your legs would move the same way. They left tracks in the dirt as they dragged. He didn’t stop begging even when he screamed at Nancy to pull you through. She could feel the toll that death had taken on you. The loss of muscle, the eerie stillness. Yet, Steve still didn’t stop begging even when he said that you were safe now. 

Wake up now. You can’t sleep here. You have to wake up.

Your eyes were open. 

There was no such thing as peace at that moment. Nobody was blessed with the grieving silence. Steve wouldn’t let that happen. He didn’t want it to be silent, not when you loved to make noise. Not when you would laugh at his lame jokes. He couldn’t be silent in his efforts to somehow make you wake up. 

Eddie sat on the ground, his back propped up against the wall. He stared straight ahead, his facial expression not changing even as there was a tear. Nancy and Robin didn’t even try forcing their faces still. They twisted and sobbed and cried no matter how hard they tried to stifle it. They didn’t want to add to Steve’s pain. Dustin was in worse shape. He didn’t know what to do. Does he hug Steve? Does he leave him alone? Does he cry? Does he stay strong? What does he do? So, he stands there. He stands there, and he cries, and Steve doesn’t see. He can’t see. The blurriness of his vision paired with the agonising pain in his brain and his heart just makes it so that he doesn’t see anything. He can’t even remember how they got your body to the hospital. 

Telling your parents sucked. Steve couldn’t actually do it. He stood at one of the tables, folding clothes for the people packed in the stadium, the ones that had their houses crushed in the ‘earthquake’. He stood there, and he looked horrible. He was pale. He had bags under his eyes. He was thin. His eyes were red and his nose was raw. He couldn’t even talk properly. His hands shook. His knees trembled when your parents walked over. 

Dustin had spoken to them. Told them how you died. Or, how you ‘died’. You were caught saving him and Eddie in the ‘earthquake’, and you had died. He chose to keep the fact that you had stood alone, surrounded by a swarm of bats after pushing Eddie out of the fray into Dustin’s arms. 

The funny thing was, you didn’t die from the wounds from the bats. You didn’t even sustain many. Sure, you had enough that it would’ve put you in serious danger, but it wasn’t the wounds that killed you. Dustin may have been a little delirious, but he didn’t imagine you clutching your chest and dropping like a sack of potatoes. He didn’t imagine the jerk your body made as you breath caught. He didn’t imagine you dying standing up. He may not have been a doctor, but he wasn’t stupid. He was a nerd, and nerds read. 

You had a heart attack. The fear had actually killed you. You had been scared to death. 

That wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was when the bats began to swan dive straight onto you. That was the worst part. That was the part that got Dustin screaming himself awake at night. That was the part that pushed Dustin to drag Eddie away, away from you. You didn’t feel it, at least. Steve didn’t even know how you died. Dustin knew that if Steve knew, he’d actually go mental. So, he and Eddie swore never to tell anyone else. Not family, not the party, no-one. 

So when your mother came walking over to the Harrington boy, tears collecting in her eyes as she stretched her arms out, his knees finally gave out. He collapsed in her arms, filling her ears with never ending apologies. She shushed him, sobbing. Soon, your father joined the hug, and the three of them cried over your heroic sacrifice. 

Meanwhile, Dustin and Eddie looked on from opposite sides. They exchanged glances, and went back to their own work. They never had to know that your death was so out of place, that you died with that much fear. They never had to know that you had cried that you didn’t want to be there. They didn’t have to know that you had asked Eddie to take you home. They never had to know that you asked Dustin for one more hug. 

Love hurt, but they didn’t have to know how much worse it could get. 

They kept their mouths shut.

[sitp-recs]

Hello, do you know Drarry fics that contain Draco having a boyfriend or dating someone? I just look through the jealous!Harry and pining!Harry tag but not all of them that specific "the person I want is already with someone else :( " angst im looking for

Hi there! Jealous!Harry is such a juicy trope. I don’t often read them with other people in the same fic (I especially avoid OCs because I hate feeling conflicted between ships 🤣), but I think you might enjoy these:

Stay by @kbrick (M, 5k)

Life is all about what we do with the opportunities we're given - the ones we miss and the ones we refuse to let pass us by.

To know the pain of too much tenderness by @cibeewastaken (T, 6k)

Harry is in love with Draco, and Draco sometimes goes on dates with other people, but it’s not like Harry could be bothered by it when he never told Draco about his feeling, right? Right. So Harry isn’t that bothered by Draco’s dates, what bothers him is when one of those dates knocks Draco up and doesn’t want the baby.

Constellation Prize by @andithiel (E, 12k)

Harry’s been pining for his friend and Auror partner for almost a year. But despite what his friends say, he and Draco aren't an old married couple...Draco has a boyfriend, there's no way he'd ever be interested. Right?

Friends? Is That What We Are? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 33k)

What the hell is Harry even supposed to do when he finally realises that he loves Draco? He's an idiot and it takes him a while but he gets there. They get there.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k) - Draco doesn’t date anyone else but Harry’s jealous of a specific person (more info in the tags) so I think this fits your ask!

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Left My Heart by emmagrant01 (E, 85k)

Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him.

Level Two: Series One (E, 113k)

By Ashii Black (ashiiblack), blamebrampton, Catsintheattic, dustmouth, epithalamium, incandescent (lmeden), josephinestone (orphan_account), leveltwo, nerakrose, raitala, Romaine, Vaysh, Writcraft

Witches and wizards are disappearing in a seemingly random fashion. Coincidence? Abductions? But no one is claiming ransom. The Aurors are not even sure the disappearances are connected, then one of the missing turns up dead. Meanwhile, Auror Harry Potter is thrown into the infamous Sirius Black Muggle murder case from 25 years ago. Given a chance to clear his godfather's name for good, Harry is not above accepting even the help of magical specialist Draco Malfoy.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

Close Behind by @oflights (M, 134k)

To rescue Draco from the Underworld, Harry has to look forward. Unfortunately, Draco has to look back.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own. Or, in which Harry hates his Auror partner, Draco flips houses, Pansy sleeps around, Hermione is a magical creatures’ justice warrior, Blaise is getting married, and Ron is just along for the ride.

A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 234k)

Fleeing the aftermath of his recent divorce, Draco Malfoy takes up a post as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts. At first he believes his hopes for a fresh start are dashed when he sees that a certain boyhood rival is on staff there as well. But Harry Potter is being weirdly nice to him, leaving Draco no choice but to play along.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

A companion piece to my previous Shinedown Steddie thingy.

Eddie's last year was...

Yeah, it just was. It existed. That's the best he can say about it.

Sure, there was a ton of touring, awards, interviews and he really tried to keep it together, he really did. But ignoring that he and Steve were no longer together was about as easy as ignoring he was missing an arm or a leg. Sometimes he wishes he actually lost a body part instead of Steve's love.

But that wasn't exactly true, was it? Because Steve told him he still loved him when he left. And hell, if he didn't feel the same. Still does.

Eddie keeps dodging questions about Steve in interviews. Asks for privacy, for space, but never refuses to answer the simplest question - does he still love Steve? "At this point, I'm pretty sure loving Steve is a part of my DNA," he smiles at the interviewer. "I can't even imagine not loving him, not caring for him. So yes, um...the answer to your question is still yes. It will always be yes."

It took him a while to actually get back to working. The first weeks were something Eddie had never felt before, and he's felt a lot of pain in his life. This? This was almost worse, because instead of something sharp and burning he could focus on, there was just ever-stretching emptiness, with no promise of ending, not now, not ever.

When Gareth basically forced himself through the door of his (and Steve's former) home, he found Eddie curled up in a ball on the bed, smelling like unwashed laundry, dirt and misery. He hadn't showered in about a week or so, only sometimes got up to drink, Steve's voice still ringing in his head - "please don't blame yourself, Eddie. And take care of yourself, okay? I still care about you and I need to know you're going to eat something healthy, drink enough water and sleep. Please, don't take this out on yourself." So that's what Eddie did - once in a while he got up, got a glass of water, nibbled on a cereal bar if he felt like it and tossed the rest in the trash. Then he curled up back in bed, surrounded by the books he loved, used to love, but now couldn't read a single paragraph. He cried the lot the first day, the second too, then less. After a while, he wasn't even sobbing anymore, his tears just did whatever they wanted and the most he was willing to do was flip the pillow so he didn't constantly lie on a wet fabric.

Gareth saved him. It sounds dramatic now, but he really did. He forced Eddie out of bed, opened the curtains and the windows to let fresh air in and sent him to the shower while he ordered pizza. Not the most gourmet and nutritious dish and Eddie kept chewing on his two slices until they grew cold and soggy, but at least he got something warm in his stomach. And as Gareth sat next to him and patiently waited for Eddie to take another bite, come on, just one, he felt a pang of guilt - this was his friend, not just his bandmate. And if Eddie didn't start doing something, he could hurt someone else he loved, their careers, livelihoods.

He promised Gareth to stop by the next day despite Gareth's insistence that he could take as much time as he needed. But Eddie doesn't want to. Steve was already gone so he just had one thing to live for. Well, and Wayne and the kids. But abandoning his work felt like the whole breakup was meaningless and he knew Steve didn't want him to give up on his dream. So he dove back into work and didn't resurface until months later.

The words didn't come at first, but Eddie willed them to, waited for hours over an empty notebook until they seeped through his barriers, bleeding onto the paper. His previous songs were about anger, rebellion, joy of being different. The new ones? They spoke about regret, lost tenderness and love transcending time. He was worried to present them to the band, but they give it a shot and surprisingly, their manager sees the potential. So they go along with it.

During one of their tours, Eddie read the news and his heart did that thing where it squeezed so tight he thought he'd faint. There was a mass accident near the area Steve lived now - Dustin kept updating him, always so convinced they'd find their way back together - and Eddie wondered what if Steve got caught up in it, what if he's one of the victims, what if he'll never get to make things right-

He knew he shouldn't, but he grasped his cellphone in shaky hands and quickly typed.

So sorry, I know I probably don't want me contacting you but I read the news and I got worried. Are you OK?

Just a simple OK is enough

please

just let me know you're fine Stevie

Minutes and hours stretched insufferably and Eddie was already going through the worst case scenarios, but then his phone beeped. He nearly dropped it, but when he read the message, he choked out a relieved sob.

I'm okay

Thank you for checking in, Eddie. Sorry for making you worry

I was helping at the scene, just got home now

Are you okay too?

After that, they kept in touch. Just brief messages, ensuring each other was fine, that Eddie safely landed wherever the tour took him and that Steve wasn't too stressed out from his job and studies, didn't get too much in his head. Small, supportive messages, careful but loving.

And so they're here, almost a year later.

The hole in Eddie's chest is still massive, still bleeding, but he thinks that having Steve in his in any capacity is better than not having him at all. And he'll take anything he can get.

He pours his adoration into his songs, never sending them to Steve, not wanting to pressure him or make him feel guilty, but all the love he still has for him needs an outlet. "The Crow and the Butterfly" just came out and it does fairly well. It makes Eddie feel a bit weird, to expose his feelings so openly, but he will never be ashamed for loving someone. Especially someone as amazing as Steve.

It's late evening and he's home now, even if it still feels half-empty. Working is the only thing that makes sense now and so he's spending his free time perfecting one of the last songs that feels like a small personal breakthrough for him, he feels like he's getting somewhere, maybe closer to acceptance, understanding.

He strums on his acoustic guitar and sings.

Wrap me in a bolt of lightning

Send me on my way still smiling

Maybe that's the way I should go

Straight into the mouth of the unknown

I left the spare key on the table

Never really thought I'd be able

To say that I'll visit on the weekend

I lost my whole life and a dear friend

I've said it so many times

I would change my ways no never mind

God knows I tried!

Call me a sinner, call me a saint

Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same

Call me your favorite

Call me the worst

Tell me it's over I don't want you to hurt

It's all that I can say

So I'll be on my way

I finally put it all together, nothing really lasts forever

I had to make a choice that was not mine

I had to say goodbye for the last time

I put my life in a suitcase

Never really stayed in one place

Maybe that's the way it should be

You know I've lived my life like a gypsy

I've said it so many times

I would change my ways, no never mind

God knows I tried

Call me a sinner, call me a saint

Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same

Call me your favorite

Call me the worst

Tell me it's over I don't want you to hurt

It's all that I can say

So I'll be on my way

I'll always keep you inside

You healed my heart and my life

And you know I've tried

Call me a sinner, call me a saint

Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same

Call me your favorite

Call me the worst

Tell me it's over I don't want you to hurt

It's all that I can say

So I'll be on my way

So I'll be on my way

So I'll be on my way

The tones finish but he's still staring into space, wondering if this is really it, all his life will be.

And then his phone beeps.

Eddie doesn't really want to answer anything or anyone, but he knows Steve had an important exam a few days back so maybe he has the results. And he won't make him wait ever again.

He sees the text and blinks, frozen in place.

What if I told you that you aren't too late, crow?

He can't believe it. But it's Steve's number, it's him, and Eddie is laughing like a madman now, tears streaming freely from his eyes. It isn't a victory, still pretty far from it, but it's like a first stitch for his wound, a promise of healing.

He grabs his phone and quickly types back.

I'd tell you that I'd chase you forever, butterfly, I'd wait as long as you needed. Do you need me to wait longer?

In seconds after answering, his phone makes a sound again, but it's not a message this time, it's a call.

Eddie has never answered a call this quickly in his life.

"Hi," he chokes out and holds the small lifeline to his ear with both hands, as something incredibly fragile and precious.

"No more waiting, Eddie," says Steve and maybe he's crying a little too, from the soft shift in his voice that only Eddie knows from evenings spent together, romantic tragedies and broken friendships on screen giving Steve the same vulnerable tone. "You've finally caught me and I'm...I think I'm ready to be caught, too. If you still want me."

The "yes" that Eddie gives is the first of the two most important ones in his life.

Even if he doesn't know it yet, he will give the same answer two years from now, to kneeling Steve. But that's another story and another song.

[burst-of-iridescent]

atla live action thoughts: season one review

first things first: anyone who says the Movie That Does Not Exist is better than the live action is straight-up lying. the shymalan film fails on the criteria of even being a decent movie, let alone an adaptation. the netflix series, for all its problems, is at least an enjoyable watch with great effects, music and (mostly) appropriate casting. there's absolutely nothing to compare here - the netflix version clears easily.

now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's delve into the series, starting with the positives.

the good:

visuals and cinematography. they really did a great job of making it feel like a fantasy universe you wanted to be in & i love how vibrant the saturation and colour grading was. it made the world feel so much more dynamic and alive instead of the same flat, boring dullness that so many movies and shows have these days. sometimes i didn't even mind that i was being fed obvious exposition because at least they were giving me something pretty to look at lmao

effects and action. the bending was surprisingly good for the most part, and they did a good job of making the elements feel unique through the stunt choreography and the actors' movements. i'm immensely thankful they didn't try to skimp on budget by merely cutting away from fight scenes or showing us as little as possible. almost all the action sequences were fast-paced and engaging, and i was never bored watching them

acting. the main four were all great, but gordon cormier and dallas liu have to be the standouts for me. gordon brings such an earnest, innocent sweetness to aang that you can't help but like him, and dallas plays all of zuko's facets perfectly: the angst, the explosive anger, the bratty snark, and especially the deep-rooted pain that characterizes so many of zuko's actions in book 1. the range he has, especially when flashing from younger to older zuko, was insane. special shoutout to maria zhang and sebastian amoruso as suki and jet respectively, because they killed it

music. leaves from the vine instrumental had me tearbending and i love how they kept the iconic avatar theme while making it a little darker for this iteration of the story. in general, the soundtrack felt very true to the animation while still being a fresh spin on it

zuko and iroh's relationship and expanding on zuko's crew. i think the fandom universally agrees that lu ten's funeral and zuko's crew being the 41st division were the best changes in the series, so i'm not going to talk about it further other than to say that these scenes show me what the show can be, and that's why i'm not giving up on it

the bad:

characterization. almost all the main characters are missing the little nuances that made them so great in the original, but the greatest casualty is katara. i hate that they took away so much of her rage, and gave many of her traits and struggles to sokka. i don't think this is a problem solely with the writing though, because certain lines do feel like things animated katara would say, but the directing and line delivery don't have the same punch that made her so fierce in the original. this is an easily fixed issue though, so i hope they take the criticism and let my girl be angry and fuck shit up next season

exposition. this was primarily a problem in depicting aang's personality and the relationship between the gaang, because a) why are you TELLING me that aang is mischievous and fun-loving instead of just showing me and b) the gaang do NOT feel like close friends, mostly because they spend so much time apart in every episode that they have little screentime to actually bond and develop intimacy.

lack of focus on the intricacies of bending. for a show whose tagline is "master your element" the characters spend very little time actually... mastering their element. zuko is never shown to struggle with firebending (which is going to have ramifications when it comes to developing his relationship with azula), and neither aang nor katara ever learn waterbending from a master throughout the the entire show. i'm pretty sure aang never willingly waterbends ONCE in the entire eight episodes, discounting the avatar state and koizilla. bending isn't just cool martial arts, it's closely linked to the philosophies and spirituality of each nation, and i wish that had been explored more.

pacing. they really needed to do a better job of conveying that time passed between episodes because an 8-episode season is just going to FEEL shorter than a 20-episode one. the original animation felt as though they'd truly been on a long journey before arriving at the north, but here it feels like the entire show happened in the span of a fortnight or so because each episode seemed to pick up right after the previous. they needed to have more downtime within episodes instead of just rushing from plot beat to plot beat because it made everything feel a lot more rushed. give the characters and story time to breathe.

final rating: 7/10.

overall, i would describe the live action as a better version of the percy jackson movies - not an accurate or perfect adaptation, but a decent story that's very fun to watch. but what really makes me root for this show to get a season 2 is that it has a lot of potential and more importantly, a lot of heart. it's evident that the people who worked on it do genuinely love and respect the original series, and it shows onscreen.

regardless of anything else, this show created opportunities for so many asian and indigenous actors, writers and creators to tell the kinds of stories and play the kinds of roles they don't usually get, and that's something worth supporting. if they take the criticism from this season and improve, i believe they really do have something special on their hands which - although it might not be the original we all know and love - could still be a story to be proud of.

[hadakzu]

Hawks x reader comfort (for parentification)

I don't know how to summarize this, I'm just exposing myself here lmaooo.

Giving a big warm hug to anyone who has had to deal with anything like this!❤️🫂❤️🫂 You're amazing and I hope you're doing okay!💖💕

Otherwise gn, but the reader is called a mom/ second mother of the family.

Content warnings:

parentification, looking after younger siblings, neglect and emotional abuse, mention of being beaten (keigos past), bit of suicidal talk, fighting between parents (mostly just verbal, but ig could be read as more), mommy daddy issues, slightly hinting of substance use (but it's not focused on), small talk of moving a lot, fear of others safety (?), feeling of being alone, Keigo's parents saying he'd better off.

(Please let me know if I missed anything, I try to add if I notice more)

"It's just... not fair. I was a child too.. so why did it feel like I was the only reasonable adult in there.."

You had your arms wrapped to his sides, using his chest as a pillow as you vented about your day. Having your mother visit brought back various of emotions and thoughts. Still feeling fresh like a unhealed cut. Trying to heal from it was still hard. Accepting the truth making you just feel like an ungrateful brat, because it wasn't really that bad, even though it definitely felt like it.. What right did you have to feel this hurt? It could've been far worse..

Thank god you had Hawks here by your side. His hand on the back of your head, feeling your hair, softly playing with it as he listened to your chain of thoughts. Letting you talk, while reassuring you weren't being unreasonable to feel like this at all. Listening you speak and explain it all, made him also feel upset and sad for you and your younger self past. Absent with the carefree joy you should have had. He could relate to that feeling, even if he couldn't totally understand your path. Growing up too fast was something he could totally understand, it wasn't easy or fun. It quite honestly sucked.

"It's like they act like It's normal, to have been called a mom by my younger sibling.. Like it's fun or normal how they joke about it so lightly, saying I have always just been the more responsible and caring one... the second mother of the family... Saying it came naturally, when really I had no choice but to become like one. Everytime I visit or see them, there's not a single time she wouldn't call me that, like it's supposed to be a compliment. When really it just reminds me of the pain.. reminding I'm supposed to hide myself and be more independent "

He could hear the underlying anger in your voice, even though you talked about it remotely calm, it was clear you felt hurt by it all. Feeling like you had been left to carry all the burden of your family, trying to keep it together so it wouldn't fall. Afraid of what would happen if you weren't strong enough. Fighting alone for so long, while trying to ensure your siblings would feel more loved, to make sure they had someone with free of judge. Experience unconditional love from your part.

Hawks didn't have any siblings of his own, it had always been just him alone, so it felt a bit foreign for him, hearing about a family as large as yours. It was new, house full of kids in many ages. But he was curious of what it was like, trying to imagine how it would feel to have a younger sibling.. or an older one too. Trying to understand how different life would look like from your point of view. Hearing you describe growing up with younger siblings in dysfunctional family, how it had been both a curse and a blessing at the same time, the coin always has two sides afterall.

At least you didn't have to deal with the bullshit completely alone, even though it had been mostly you caring for them all. Surrounded by many, it was chaos as it own, not to mention everything else that came along..

Remembering the time before it all started, or before you had understood something was wrong.. When you were somewhat free of that load.. But had life really been easier before stepping into that boat? Trying to keep it afloat while surrounded by waves of a storm.

Not being taken seriously when you had felt hurt, having someone laugh while tears fell down your shirt, people getting angry when you were trying your best. Crying under the covers, hiding from the world, wishing you had never ever been, you weren't meant to live in here. Praying for god, could you to be taken away from this place. Not because it'd be easier for you, but because you didn't want to be a burden, a disappointment.. Feeling as they would have been better off, if you weren't there to just make mistakes a lot... You were just a kid, how could you have known any better, if they never taught you how? Just expected to figure it out in your own little head, struggling with the quilt of even being here.

Seeing your younger siblings grow up, you didn't want them to go down the same path, they deserved more than that. So you stepped up, not trusting your parents wouldn't also mess them up.

Who would have thought being useful for your parents, especially to your mother, would make it easier to deal with that quilt. Suddenly being praised for being so mature of your age, always helping around, it felt good to be needed, to be noticed, praised. Maybe you had finally earned their love, being seen as human with a voice and real thoughts, one of the wise ones. You weren't being a trouble anymore, hiding your struggles, hiding your pain. You just wished you wouldn't feel anymore hurt by pushing those away. You were now the therapist, the peacemaker of the family. It couldn't be the other way around, surely helping them out was your job.

He rubbed your back, thinking how much burden you must have had, how hard it must have felt. How hurt you must have been, so that pushing your needs away felt easier than bringing them to the surface for someone else to see, for someone to hear. Unable to deal with the feeling of not being taken seriously.

He too, had learned to mirror his value on what he could offer for others. Being called names, the words of being better off not only in his head, when he was being just a kid, born in a family not understanding or capable of meeting his needs. It had been tough, carefully tip toying around avoiding for getting beaten up, by the man supposed to be his dad.. Trying to see life beyond those doors, Keigo could barely play around. Having to sit quietly, lucky if he got to watch the heroes on the screen.

After he and his mother ended up on the streets, his wings were only thing noticed about him. What he could do, what they could be used. Kid trying to take care for them both, trying to stay strong. Do the best he could from what he knew, having to put on these adult shoes.

Being taken in by the commision, it was all about creating Hawks, forgetting Keigo to be completely gone. It was always all about saving others, the burden of being good enough for others, being worthy of living this life, doing it for someone else, proving his worth for himself.

He could understand his own way, also being parentified kid himself. Not neccesarily your exact experience itself, your pasts were very different in many ways, but the feelings from it were close ones, something he had felt. Even if you two had come to feel it from different ends. Both of you had had to figure out lot of things by yourselves, do things not appropriate for your age. Trying to learn how to take time for your own mental health, to not break down under all the stress.

It was hard, to be constantly on the run, always aware of things, ready to instantly swoop in. It was exhausting, losing yourself for others, being the one keeping them on the surface. While your own boat was slowly sinking down. Feeling the tension in your chest tightening from all the pressure of being under the cold sea. Trying to catch a breathe, while being pushed further down by the waves merciless.

Do this, do that, help with this and that.

"You are right, it's not fair. No kid should have to go through that, to feel that kind of burden in their back. You deserved to be a child too."

His voice sounded sad, thinking of younger you.. and thinking bit of Keigo too. He hadn't had the chance to fully take a seat and process what a roller coaster of a life he had had. He knew it wasn't exactly right what he had had to go through, but always tried to focus on the good. Although guilt was something that was whispering in the back of his head... Leaving his mother.. feeling he failed.. Even when he had been young, even when he really didn't have a choice. He still felt like he failed to save her, leaving only family he had left.. He wished he could have done more, part of him missed her, yearning to know her.

He was the son, but he still felt somewhat quilty for the kind of life she had had, thinking if he could have done more than that.

His mind wandering little to his childhood as you told your story, you made him think a lot more of his own origin... or more like he started to feel more for his younger self too. He had thought about it a lot, but he felt somehow distant from his own past.. from that small Keigo he had once been.

Listening your story, thinking how fucked up it was for a child to deal with these things. It finally clicking in his head how bad it had actually been, how badly it could affect persons mental health. How it still affected him.

He saw your past still haunting your mind too.

"I- I just feel bad... for feeling this hurt knowing it wasn't easy for her either.. She needed someone to help around, she couldn't have done it alone.. it shouldn't be her that I'm even mad at. ..even if she wasn't always the best either.."

He kissed the top of your head, caressing your back while listening your words. Taking in what you needed to say, letting out the frustration you had felt. Noticing from your words, how you were carrying somewhat similar quilt for himself, about something out of your control, something that wasn't your fault. Feeling defensive for her behalf, even at times you shouldn't have had. He had to say something about that, making sure you wouldn't blame it all on yourself, validating your feelings of being hurt.

"You have every right to feel this hurt, don't blame it on yourself. Her actions are her own responsibility, not yours. No matter how hard it is, parents shouldn't neglect their childs emotional needs. It's not the child's job to be the one relied on either, it should always be the parents job. ..and even if you can understand why it happened.. it doesn't make it any more right."

You knew he was right, you really did, but it still felt like you were betraying her by admitting to something like that... sure you had known how your younger siblings had been neglected in ways, not been understood and blamed for being just kids.. Growing up in unstable home, of course they would act out. But to say that about yourself.. made you just feel uncomfortable, thinking you got the easy part in all that, still feeling little defensive for her behalf.

"..yeah, I know.."

You agreed for sure, but still sounding little hesitant of your words. You couldn't shake the feeling of sympahty for her, she wasn't perfect, neither were you.. you could have also done more.. Even though you felt angry for her about many things too, it wasn't as simple.

"It's not her that I'm really even that mad at though... o-or well about some things yes... but it wouldn't have been that bad if he would have taken some of that load of her back..! You know... do the things parent is supposed to do. It should be obvious, not something a child should have to point out... "

He could hear the frustration in your voice grow, this was clearly something you felt resentment about. One of the few topics that actually got you heated up, even to the point of feeling actual anger, and he understood completely. You had told him bits about it here and there, like when you had felt frustrated to visit your family again, only to have your father to ditch you his chores to you like usual. How almost your whole childhood you had had to fill in his role, having a father not participating much, avoiding his tasks as a dad, leaving it to you and your mother to handle.

Why should have he had to worry about a thing? You were better at watching after them anyways, he was already tired enough, having fun out there. What a burden to have to sleep after that all day. It just wasn't fair.

"I was nine, when I started to look after my little brother... Trying to sooth him down when he cried.. Sometimes waking up at nights for that, wanting my mom to sleep more for a change too. I was the one mostly taking care of him when my mother wasn't around.. I don't understand how he could just ignore a baby's crying? Too 'busy' of doing something else, never actually helping out, but still having time to complain about insignificant things, being a petty child himself."

You could remember the countless days arguing with your father about basic things, laughing out of frustration with how absurd it had felt. Having to parent a grown ass man, defending your mother with the last of energy you had.

Trying to bring some kind of sense into this chaos, not letting the bullshit of your parents just slip out. Why should a kid have to understand how to behave, if the adults in this house never learned to do it either? Why should the kids be held more accountable about small things, if the parents couldn't admit their mistakes or apologizes themselves either.

Watching your siblings grow while new ones were born. Feeling the anxiety in your chest grow, you loved your siblings a lot, but sometimes it felt more of a burden than not.

"It... hurt. Watching it just get worse over the years, protecting them from all the mean words.. Having to lecture my own parents how to behave, how to care, what not to say to a little kid. The amount of times I would have to step up, be the more grown up.."

You sounded somewhat hesitant to talk about it, realizing just how absurd it sounded when saying it out loud. You were so used to it being the norm, forgetting just how messed up it had been at times.

"I knew it wasn't right.. I mean the way they raised us most of the time.. I read many articles of it to make sure I wasn't just imagining it myself, being overly dramatic like they had said. Trying to learn how to parent my siblings myself instead.. While trying to teach my parents to be more consider of their emotional state."

He felt sad for you and your younger siblings too, hearing you tell stories of moments where you guys weren't treated right.

Having been child who had had to listen all sorts of things coming from his parents mouth, it hurt to imagine others having to experience something similar in that regard. Knowing words would be something that would last, but glad at least someone had their back. Even though it was unfair, you shouldn't have had to be the first one they would turn. Still he couldn't help but admire your strenght, how you would go beyond your way to ensure your siblings felt more cared and safe. Go between fights, listen to their thoughts, taking into consiridation that they were still young and small. Knowing they couldn't understand everything, but explaining them about things more calm. Not yelling at them if they didn't know any better, but definitely having a long talk with the one that did.

Even though he admired that about you a lot, it still pained him to know you even had to think or worry about things like that. You shouldn't have had to carry that heavy of a bag with you, it was never meant for you, yet it was forced on you. He made a mental note to you make sure you wouldn't have to go through something like that again, to hold your struggles inside, to carry the world on your back alone. When he and his wings were right here, ready to lift some of that heaviness off your chest.

"There um.. was time my parents were fighting a lot.. there uh- was a lot going on in general.. My dad did some questionable things.. I knew way too many things about their relationship, involved in stuff I shouldn't have had... Back then I also often had to watch after my siblings whole days and sometimes even at nights.. making sure they ate, trying to comfort them when they were feeling unsure and scared.. They were such a anxious kids, like we all were living in unstable home like that. Having to move around a lot, never knowing when another big fight would unfold.. I always read them a good night stories when I could, trying to make the time between just as kids more fun. Hugging them at night when being asked when would they be back... Not knowing the answer for that, while wondering the same in my head. Reassuring them it would be okay, patiently singing to them until they would fall asleep.. Then later crying myself to sleep too.. They just deserved so much more, I wish I could have given more.."

That sounded exhausting and sad, having to take care of them that long while having no idea when your parents would be back. Having to be the rock they could lean on, trying to be stable for them when your parents couldn't. What also spoke volume of your parents effect on you guys, was when you told him despite it being hard, it was much more peacfull when they weren't around. Seeing how your siblings were also smiling more, not having to be yelled at crying too long. It just broke your heart, thinking why it couldn't be like that even when they were there too. How hard could it be to be a decent for your own young kids.

Your heart wasn't only one to break, when he heard you speak how hard it had been for them, but never totally focusing on how you had felt. Like it was automatic reaction you did, to shift the spotline of your pain on someone who had gone through 'worse.'

It didn't go unnoticed by him.

You also told him how you checked up on your mom, feeling uneasy of not knowing what was happening between them. You were too used to being on top of everything, listening to every word, trying to create clear picture of things. You know.. just in case it started to sound like you should have to hop in between, often hoping he would honestly just leave.. Feeling he brought more hurt than good, seeing his face and just wanting to scream at it loud.

Hawks knew how tiring it could be, to try to analyze every little thing, to make sure you didn't miss anything. To be hyper aware of everything, because well.. it was his job sure, but also something he had learned from a very young, living in a shithole of a home.

Thinking himself how you being responsible of so many, must have felt the world would be ending if you couldn't keep doing what was expected of you. Being under pressure at all times, having your mind run miles. How old had you been again..? Nine when the parentification had slowly started... not that it had been too great before that either, and going on pretty much until you had eventually had to move out?

Who had been taking care of you?

Ask you, how you were too?

On top of that you had to also deal with school, trying live life outside home too. It was hard, worried you'd be needed when you werent around.. Anxiety of being unaware, hoping your siblings knew they were still cared. Actually having to skip school over that fear too, fearing of leaving them there alone. Also staying home when offering to help your parents with something that again, shouldn't have been your job.. but why would they refuse, you were being helpful.

Still often feeling like you should have done more, done better job at protecting them from all the internal war. Was there something you had missed..? Thinking if you could have done something more early on... what if this was somehow your fault..?

"..did you, have anyone to look after you? To.. check up on how you were feeling.. how you were holding up in the middle of all that? Supporting you through the storms too?"

He was quite sure he already knew the answer for that, the way he had seen you act, he wished it didn't have to be like that. Having this idea in your head, that you were supposed to handle it all by yourself, having had hard time to lean on him first too, open up when you had felt doomed. From the sounds of your words and knowing more of your past, it sounded like you had been alone carrying everyone else, while suffering in silence all by yourself. It pained him to hear, but your silence to his question only confirmed it. You didn't want to say it out loud. Admit of feeling so alone and lost, having to navigate through everything without help. While still trying to comfort and convince yourself with the thought, that it wasn't really that bad, that it could have been far worse.

"Well I'm here now. I'm sorry you had to go through all that, it never should have been your responsibility to take care of them.. You were just kid trying to survive and keep peace in the house, that takes a lot.. It's a lot for anyone but especially a child. You did incredible considering what tools you got. It wasn't your fault or up to you to fix that, but I know for sure your siblings are grateful for you just having been there, you're so sweet and thoughtful. I see the love and care whenever you talk about them, and I know they can feel it as well. I kinda wish I had someone like you when I grew up, just having someone to lean on can do a lot."

His words and sweet gestures honestly meant a lot, the words about your siblings hitting pretty hard, assuring you that you had done more than enough. That all your work wasn't unseen, it had made bigger impact that you'd let yourself believe.

He held you in his arms, covering your form under his soft feathers, feeling more protective of you after all he had heard, keeping you safe in his embrace. Knowing this wasn't even half of the story, just a scratch on the surface you had shown. Trusting him enough to share part of your path, wanting him to see all your different sides, even if it was uncomfortable at first.

"I hope now I can be someone you can lean on too, you shouldn't have to go through everything alone.. You deserve to be taken care of too, you don't have to suffer alone anymore. It's okay to admit being hurt. You don't always have to act strong, even though I know you are, but you don't have to be that all of the time. I'm here now. I got your back like I know you got mine, no more of that one sided caring, alright? It should always go both ways with the people you're close. I want to be someone close to you, and with your thoughts and feelings too. Those deserve to be heard also."

Moment of silence as you let those words sink in, his embrace tightening to feel you more close, to emphasize his words. Letting you know it was okay to express your feelings too, he would never just dismiss them like some others had. Showing you, you weren't left alone. Not when he was around.

"And he, honestly sounds like an ass.. he should have done more than that, he was a parent too, an adult. I don't know everything he has done, but I can still say it was unfair and unjustified the things he did and the things he didn't do. I'm sorry he put you through that. You deserved better than that."

When he called him an ass, it was so sudden you couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. It came out of nowhere, but it honestly felt good to have someone say that too, oddly satisfying of seeing someone call him out on his crap too, not just brushing it off. Showing how he was pissed off for your behalf, maybe it was okay for you to feel like that as well.. To still be angry for things, that before this, had gone unheard for years.

Caressing your face as he looked at you fondly, with mix of sadness and admiration in his eyes. He felt honored to feel this close to you, to be let on something this huge. Thats how it definetely felt at least, and you were tired of pretending like it didn't. It had been hard and it still hurt a lot.

You got the feeling he understood some aspects of it himself, knowing how you felt. Propably being parentified kid himself.. thats how you felt at least, you could sense it in him, like you were wearing his sensitive wings instead.

You were right of course, keeping you close while thinking your past. Maybe someday he would open about his too, knowing you would care and not judge him, hoping you had some of that unconditional love left for him too.. for Keigo. He sure as hell had that for you, it only growing every day spend with you.

He would be here for you.

"Thank you Hawks. That honestly means a lot.. I'm.. glad you are here."

A smile appeared on his face. Gently bringing a finger under your chin, slowly raising your head so your eyes met his, cherising your beautifull face. Making sure you felt seen. He could still sense the lingering uncertainity on your face, after bringing all this to the surface, from the cold sea.

He leaned in to a soft kiss, making sure you felt nothing but warm and cared. Simmering down those huge waves, feeling more calm and safe. You didn't have to sail through the storms alone, now he would help you navigate through them with you, like the boat was his own.

Afterall you two were sailing in it together from now on.

"I'm glad I'm here too"

(I don't know if this turned out exactly the way I wanted but it's okayy🙏 I'll probably write another one with this topic but bit differently at some point)