and is still suffering for it

Heartbreak

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“Damn girl! Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for 20 minutes!” My best friend Ella calls as I finally enter her car and plop down onto the seat with an exhausted sigh. The belt to my shoulder bags slips down my shoulder and I position it on my lap. Ella has gladly volunteered to take me from college this time or I had to deal with public transportation which I definitely did not want to spend my last nerve to. My life is chaotic enough at the moment and I can’t have other things to tear me down. Recently, I have been very sensitive to everything and even a little unnecessary stuff can be a cause for my outburst. For example, yesterday I was out of ice cream and I immediately started to cry because it was the only treat that relaxes me when I come back home from a very long day in college. Crazy isn’t it? To cry over ice cream?

“Chill, Ella. I’m sorry! I just had this very important conversation with my professor and it took a little while. It’s not going to happen again.” I lean my back against the seat and close my eyes. All I need is silence now. My head is killing me and I really desire to slip into my pajamas and sleep.

“Is it okay for you if I turn the radio on? It’s just boring and you ‘re not going to talk to me anyway.” Ella asks and she gets a nod from my side.

“Sure…” I say nothing anymore.

After she turns on a fancy radio channel, Ella starts the engine and we drive off. It will take us approximately 20 minutes to arrive at my apartment and while driving I spend my time with observing the buildings we pass by. The movements of the car along with the nice music coming from the radio is a perfect mix to make me fall asleep and I think it isn’t a bad idea to take a little nap. However as I am about to drift off, a voice I have not heard for a while sounds through the radio. His velvety voice. Kiwi starts to play and Ella immediately turns it off.

“I’m sorry, babes. I didn’t know.” She apologizes and blushes even though it’s not her fault. She’s the only one who knows about him and our break up. Nobody else in the world has an idea that I once used to date the most popular and successful British artist.

“No problem…” I croak. Hearing the sound of his voice after so many months of our break up causes another wave of pain in my heart. There is still this familiarity in his voice that I could have listened to for hours. I close my eyes and try to prevent tears to leave my eyes.

“(Y/N) are you okay, sweetheart?” Ella inquires with a hint of concern on her face.

“Just take me home, Ella.” Is all she gets as a response from me. The walls I have tried to build the months after Harry has left me begin to crumble down just by a simple sound. Even though it is hard to admit, I still miss him so much although he was the one who gave up on us. He was the one who suggested it was the best way to go separate ways and he made this decision without my consent.

“You know, you don’t have to stay alone tonight. “ Ella soothes me. “You’re more than welcome to join Brandon and I to hang out. He loves you like a sister and a little bit of distraction will do you good. What do you think?” I would like to accept her offer however seeing couples being lovey dovey around me is something I cannot deal with at the moment. Not that I’m not happy for Ella and her boyfriend, I love them both as they were my siblings but it makes me realize that I have no one who cares for me anymore. Harry was gone. The love of my life is not here with me anymore. And it hurts beyond imagination.

“Thanks, El but I really need to be at home. I have lots of studies and projects going on and the sooner I deal with them the better.” By now she is parking in front of my apartment. I give her a soft kiss on her cheek. “See you later.” I tell her and get out.

The ache between my chest still remains as I run up the stairs to my apartment. I take out my key and unlock the door and enter my messy home. Another regular day where I just walk in to an empty apartment. Normally, Harry would always be there before me, cooking a meal for the both of us while he used to sing along to his favorite songs. I loved to watch him in this state. The silence in my apartment is just a reminder of what’s not there anymore.

I place my bag onto the ground and get rid of my jacket and shoes. Right after that, I go to the kitchen to grab a snack and a bottle of water. I head to my bedroom and sit in front of my desk and dwell myself into my studies. It has become my daily routine. Waking up, going to college, coming back and studying. I desperately search for ways of escaping reality and for me this routine is the only way to achieve my goal.

I take my notes and writings in my hand and start studying for the upcoming exams. However, from time to time I feel myself drifting off. A memory hits me suddenly, leaving me breathless.

“Come on babe, I need some loving here.” Harry pouted, laying on his stomach on my bed and waiting for me to cuddle with him.

“One minute.” I said, nibbling on my pen while trying to work on a paper sheet.

“(Y/N)…” He sighed and gets up, moving towards me and all I feel is his strong arms wrapping themselves around me and his breath on my neck. He placed soft kisses on my skin which caused a shiver running down my back. “You already said that 10 minutes ago.”

“I know, H. I’m sorry.” I sighed, rubbed my eyes and let him take my paper and placing it far away from me. He grabbed my hand and led me to my bed where he lied down at first, then opened his arms and I slipped between them. I loved being this close to him because he always radiated a sense of security and home. His one hand ran up and down my arms while his other hand was placed at the back of my head. His lips touched my forehead ever so softly and I felt complete in that moment.

“That’s how I like it.” He whispered. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and inhaled the sweet scent of his cologne.

“I wish I would be always like this. You and me.”

“It can be.” He told me. I looked up at him, our eyes met to a loving gaze.

“How?”

“When I marry you someday. And of course, when my job gets less chaotic.” His answer made my heart swell. Being with him forever until death did us part was something I wished so badly.

“Will you still perform on stage then?”

“I think I will never stop making music but you know I don’t have always to perform in front of people. If things get serious between you and I and I can promise it will, I will definitely want to settle down and start a family. With you, love.”

I leaned in to connect our lips to a gentle kiss and we spent the rest of the day with many cuddling sessions and talking.

I shake my head and my heart feels so heavy. “You promised…” leaves my mouth.

The desire to continue my studies leaves and I push everything aside and stand up. It has become dark outside and the clock on my walls shows that we have 7 PM. I position myself on my bed, take my pillow and press it against my body. I really wonder how Harry is doing right now. Is he thinking about me like I do? Does he miss me? Does he regret the decision he has made?

I’ve seen plenty of pictures online and he never appears broken or sad. Quite the opposite: he always looks happy and is smiling on every photo the fans shoot. He seems to cope very well with our break up, leaving me being the one who probably suffers under such hurtful heartbreak. I have loved him so much, still do and I gave him everything I had without flinching an eyelash.

Even though it is hard to keep myself away from checking up on him, I still do because after today there is no way that I can relax when I do not see him.

I am about to take my phone as my notifications on Twitter goes on and I see that an update account that I use to follow has posted a picture of him. It leaves me breathless and my heart slams against my chest. He is currently in Shanghai it says.

He looks absolutely and indescribably beautiful and tears just begin to stream out of my eyes as I observe his perfectly shaped face. His hair is messy and curly as I remembered. His outfit consists only of black material which outlined the color of his eyes even more. I always have loved it when he wore black. It suits him so damn well and honestly there is nothing he could not wear without looking like a complete idiot.

A salty tear wets my display. “I’m sorry..” I whispered into silence.”I’m sorry I could not be enough for you when you’re still the one I want.” I scroll further and find more pictures of him posing with his fans and signing autographs. The more I look at them the worse I feel and it ends with me burying my face between my hands and starting to sob.

There is no way I could ever move on. Harry has taken my heart and claimed it as his own, there was no chance I would ever get it back. While he would continue his life like nothing had happened between us, as if I do not exist, having another girlfriend, marrying her and having children, I would be still longing for him. My love for Harry is endless and it will always be that way. Even on my death bed I hope the last few words that will escape my mouth would be me telling how much I loved him through all these years.

“Why?” I sob. “Why did you leave me Harry? How will I live without you?”

It feels like it was yesterday as he ended things with me, tears covering his handsome face. I could tell he didn’t want this as much as I do but he still walked through that door and never came back.

“I’m sorry and I love you.” Was the last thing I’ve heard from him. All the things he said about marriage and settling down with me have been nothing but a lie. A bittersweet lie. He made my hopes up only to crush them afterwards.

I have a look at Twitter again and the update account says Harry will perform at the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. After reading the post, I click on Harry’s profile. I decide to send him one last message and after this one I will never ever bother him and try to continue living my life. As easy as it sounds, it is still the hardest challenge in my life.

I open the DM because I have no other possibility to contact him since I deleted his phone number after he left me. Why do I even do this to myself? Why do I torture myself like this? And what did I do to deserve being treated like this?

I’ve always supported him throughout his solo career, telling everybody that I know how brilliant his music is and even convinced them to buy his album and give him a chance to prove himself. I’ve been there when his mood was on downfall and anxiety played around with his mind. I’ve built him up with my love, with my admiration and devotion for him and he took all of this for granted.

Call me pathetic, stupid or whatever for still wanting him after he left me out of nowhere but if you had loved him as much as I do you would understand. You would understand that you would do anything in your power to keep someone with an amazing personality as Harry’s in your life. But I had failed. I have tried but obviously it was not enough.

I sob hard as I type short sentences, my fingers trembling as I try to form proper words. What would you tell someone if you know this would be the last time you would ever contact him? There are so many things in my mind, I could simply write an essay about my feelings however I don’t want to bother him any longer. He might become sick of me.

“I’m proud of who you become, H even if that meant to break my heart. I will always love you forever and I will never forget you. You will be endlessly in my mind. Go and rock that stage, my little dreamer. X.”

I contemplate for a little while if it’s a good idea to send him this message, it kinda sounds cheesy but what have I got to lose anyway? The person I have treasured and who had a huge amount of value in my eyes is gone anyway.

With a heavy heart and a bit of uneasiness consuming me, I press the send button and the message appears on the screen one more time. I observe it a few minutes and after that I inhale deeply, turn off my phone and lay it on my desk far away from me. I wonder how he will react to my message but for now I cannot deal with it.

I snuggle back into my bed, taking my pillow as a replacement for Harry. I cuddle against it and imagine he was still here with me, embracing my body with his strong arms and keeping me safe during the night.

“That’s it.” I whisper before I slowly drift to sleep. One tear flows down my sore cheek. “It’s over.”

If (Y/N) had known that on the other side of the world, a young man with green eyes and a wonderful dimpled smile is crying over her message like she had over him hours ago.

3

     “Did you cut the -”

     “Yeah.”

     “And add the -”

     “Yup.”

     A smile tugged at your lips as you looked approvingly up at your boyfriend, savouring the pure normalcy of cooking a meal together and spending an evening in the bunker. You didn’t get to do stuff like this often - especially when you were constantly on the road, hunting down one murderous beastie after another. So whenever you had the chance for domestic and safe, you jumped on it. Today you’d decided to make lasagna. Sam had approved whole-heartedly from behind his computer screen.

     “I know, I’m awesome,” Dean said, smirking arrogantly. He’d clearly caught your smile. You rolled your eyes but placed a quick kiss on his cheek, ducking under his arms and heading for the stove.

      The pot on the burner held a steaming red sauce, perfectly seasoned using your mother’s old recipe. You delicately dipped the tip of your index finger into the pot, bringing it to your lips to taste.

     “Mmm.”

     It was perfect.

     That is, until Dean appeared beside you, a long-suffering look on his face.

      “Jeez woman, must you do that?”

     “Do what?”

      Dean gently grabbed your hand, holding your still-extended finger up for you both to see. “That.

     You raised an eyebrow. “What? I was just testing the sauce.”

     “Couldn’t you use a spoon?”

     Indignation flared through you, arms crossing over your chest. “I just washed my hands. They’re clean!”

     Dean scoffed, putting down the wooden spoon he was holding. “That’s not why I’m objecting,” he said, voice dropping an octave.

     You ignored the involuntary shiver that ran down your spine.

     “Well, what is it then?”

     “When you do that …” Dean pulled the palm of your hand up to his mouth, lips brushing your skin as he spoke. “You’re just too …” He kissed the inside of your wrist. “Damn …” The fabric of your shirt pulled taught in the fingers of his free hand. “Distracting.”

     Before you had time to protest Dean’s lips were on yours, his arm wrapped around your waist as he walked you backwards into the counter. The cold edge of the steel island dug into your back. Within seconds Dean had you off the ground, the cool counter underneath your thighs and his torso wedged between your legs.

     “You’re one … to talk … about distractions,” you mumbled in between kisses, letting Dean pull your leg up around his waist.

     He smirked. “It’s not my fault you’re so irresistible.”

     You smiled against Dean’s lips, pushing your hands against his chest. “True. But …” You pulled back enough to look at him. “We have other things to do right now.”

     Dean slumped forward, forehead resting on your shoulder. “Do we have to?” he drawled.

     You let out a breathy laugh. “Yes.”

     “But we’re finishing this later.”

     Mischief lit your eyes as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. Closer to him. Your lips collided with his as he set you back on your feet, his hands tight around your waist and stubbornly holding on.

     “Yes.”


*All GIFs are from Google Images*

Masterlist

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Empathy Series, part III. Part II can be found here.

A/N: Here it is! Part III, which is also the final part of the Empathy Series. I decided it was time to wrap it up so I could make time to start on the holiday imagines (which reminds me, I still have requests open until the Monday after Thanksgiving!). Thank you for all of the love and support, and I’m very excited to start my new fic “When Fire Meets Fire!”

Words: 1,660 

Warnings: implied smut… I think that’s all, actually.

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hello-tarpon  asked:

Hey moddy! How are you? potential au, if you like it/have time. Ani and Obi are war veterans (serve together or met after) who both deal with each others crap and live in mutual face-palming exasperation whenever they're not being fiercely protective on a bad day, with Padme refereeing and getting it all on camera for posterity? gen or any ship. I'm nervous if you've done something like this before, you write so many amazing aus it can be hard to keep track... anyways, thanks moddy!!!!

Sighing, Obi-Wan stared at the ceiling for a long while with a worn expression on his face. “…Anakin?” He finally called out.

“Yeah? Kind of busy.” Came the call back.

“I know…but when you’re done could you come help me get up? I fell out of bed… again.” The redhead offered as lightly as he could and winced when he heard his roommate flat out curse before there was a sharp thump and then his door flinging open to a sudsy, wet and naked Anakin standing there.

“How long have you laid there?” The blond snapped before marching over, kneeling down to help Obi-Wan sit up first and then straighten his legs.

“An hour? Or so?” He quietly confessed, leaning against the one-armed man, the fake one abandoned in the shower more then then likly. “I’m sorry Anakin, I know I’m suppose to tell you but I just… I knew you wanted to shower and get clean.” He sighed wearily.

“You’re more important then a fucking shower Obi-Wan.” Anakin scowled before wrapping his arm around Obi-Wan’s upper back below the armpits and hefting the man up onto the bed with one sharp pull that got a grunt out of him of exertion. He then carefully corrected Obi-Wan’s thin legs again and smiled at him. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Obi-Wan smiled back before sighing quietly. “This is still… I’m so sorry.”

Anakin snorted before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the others lips. “Don’t be. Did you take your meds?”

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan smiled. “Not suppose to without food, you know that. Go back to your shower and I’ll get myself to the kitchen.” Anakin frowned at him before nodding, rolling the wheelchair closer to the bed before reluctantly leaving again.

Carefully Obi-Wan levered himself into the chair and took a deep breath. He knew Anakin would be checking him later tonight for bruises but found he didn’t mind it.

Spirits, some times he couldn’t believe it was now close to four years since they were both permanently disabled after their troop had wandered into a mind field.

He had lost the ability to walk with major scarring covering about forty percent of his body while Anakin had lost his arm and suffered trauma to one eye though compared to Waxer and Echo from their group, they had gotten off easy.

Four years later they lived together, dealt with each others crap days and exhausting ones and generally tried to make life as livable as possible.

Though Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if it made things better or worse that Padme regularly filmed them to put it out on a youtube account that detailed their lives, both the good and the bad.

The days Obi-Wan shut out the entire world in shame, the days they had food fights in the kitchen, the times their medications made bathroom visits hard, Anakin’s random bursts of anger and emotional break-down from PTSD, Obi-Wan’s disassociation from the same illness, their slow evenings where they curled together close and loving, the two going on walks with their corgi, R2, the therapy of both the mind and the bodies they still did.

Even a few date nights though those Padme had special permission and they always ended when Obi-Wan and Anakin wanted privacy to just enjoy each others company.

It was to bring attention to veterans and while it was getting their lives exposed… Obi-Wan hoped it helped further the cause for veterans, the things they had to deal with after being in battle, the PTSD, the anxieties, the physical trauma, the isolation they suffered…

The way they were still people who loved and adored and just wanted to live their lives as best they could.

A quick pic for probjdartistsday.

One of the worst arguments I usually read is that it’s totally okay to buy recasts from ‘large’ companies. But bjd companies are never large. They aren’t Apple or Walmart. They don’t have thousands of employees. They usually have a handful and they all need to get paid.
A larger company like Fairyland will have its doll artist, fullset artist, faceup artist, website manager, someone who handles emails, and of course the people who do the casting/preparing of the dolls. There will probably be a few more but that’s still less than a dozen. All of these people suffer when business gets taken away by a recaster. An asshole that makes money by literally doing nothing.

On the other side of the spectrum are people like Magic Mirror, who sometimes still casts the dolls herself. Basically a one woman army.
Companies like Soom and Fairyland have had the luck that they were able to make enough profit so they could hire more staff to spread out the workload and thus produce even more products.
But both one-person creators and companies are working hard to make dolls for you and both should be respected equally.
You are not “sticking it to the man” by buying a recast. Be less selfish.

Hilda Berg in Threatnin’ Zeppelin

oh and also thnx for comin to the streams when i was making this >:’))

You ever think about the fact that the only way to save everyone from the squip was with red mountain dew and michael’s main color is red 

Like im not saying Michael is the main hero of BMC but im saying Michael is totally the main hero of BMC and I love him 

3

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH Y'ALL!!!!!! !

ft. Georgi as the good supportive friend and also as the one who drove them there because no one trusts Viktor with a car anymore