1. He wishes that his parent’s loved him like parents were supposed to love their children. 2. His mother cared about drugs more than she ever cared about him. 3. Dally knows that if there is a Hell, he has a first class ticket there… and he is okay with that. 4. When Dally met the gang, Mrs Curtis would treat him like her own son, it was the first time he had felt what love was truly like. The night she died he cried, he sobbed his heart out until he fell asleep. He still hasn’t gotten over her loss. 5. He doesn’t “make love” he fucks until he cannot feel a thing… he doesn’t know how to love someone, and his not quite sure that he ever will. 6.The only person he has ever truly cared about is Johnny, but God, he just didn’t know how to love the kid. 7. He prays every single night before he goes to bed, hoping that God hasn’t lost faith in him yet. His prayers always go unanswered. 8. He was in his first real gang at the age of 10, at age 12 he watched his best friend get shot in the stomach, he held his friend in his arms until the police arrived. He was carted away to juvenile detention. 9. His first night in Juvie was the hardest. He cried the whole time. 10. It turns out he loved Johnny. And he couldn’t stand to live in a world where an innocence like that was stolen. So he decided to die too.
- You and Harry are poor and Harry hasn’t seen Anne in years. He misses her so much that you suprise him with plane tickets to visit her.
A/N: This is quite short, but it’s such fluff I am in love.
Masterlist linked in bio.
“This is shit! All of this is shit!”
Harry’s hands violently shoved all his crumbled pieces of paper and music journals off of the kitchen table before pounding the sides of both of his fists against the wood, refusing to contain all the frustration that had only seemed to increase inside of him any longer.
He had been trying to write new music for the past three weeks. After visiting the local record label for what felt like the hundredth time since he’s moved from home, they still refused to sign him until he figured out a way to produce music that “didn’t sound like everything else.” He’s tried everything—from writing about his love life to writing about all the angry shit scrambled inside his head—yet nothing seemed to gain their interest.
At that point, Harry had run out of ideas. There was absolutely nothing else he could think of writing about that he hasn’t already, and it was as if every possibility of making music in his future had suddenly turned into a false hope.
It was all he had, though—writing and producing music was the only thing he had going for him and the only chance he had to make money. But it was so much harder than he ever thought possible, for he had been trying for years to gain recognition for his creations, yet nothing came to his avail.
He was on the brink of giving up on everything at that moment—everything.
Y/n ran from their shared bedroom into the kitchen after hearing the chaos Harry had riled up. By the time she reached the dining table—which was normally used both as a place for them to eat and Harry’s office—he was an absolute wreck. Between the mess upon the floor and the cries that seemed to obstruct the silence that had once been, she had absolutely no idea what to do.
“I can’t—I can’t live like this anymore!” He sobbed, his head in his hands as his lungs began to fail him through his words.
He couldn’t continue living through their financial crisis; between his dead-end attempts to make a career out of his music and Y/n’s minimum wage salaries, it was nearly impossible for them to live a life they both deserved. Their memories were trapped inside an apartment that could barely fit the two of them, all their passionate nights were shared on a mattress with no bed frame, and their life together remained stagnant for far too long.
Harry loved her more than he’s ever loved anything before, and the thought was enough to terrify him.
She deserved so much better than him—she deserved a man that could provide her with all her needs and wants. She deserved every bit of the earth and Harry could barely offer her a fraction of it. He could only provide her with his love and the scraps he made from his failures.
She deserved so much more than him.
“Oh, baby.” She whispered.
She kneeled down to where he was sitting, pressing her forehead to his as she played with the hairs that raided the nape of his neck. She was well aware of how hard their living situation was—especially for him.
He worked hard enough for the both of them. He worked relentlessly, often times skipping meals or refusing to have a proper night’s sleep until he had something done—whether it was a new song idea or even a newly written verse. Stress took over his every move and Y/n knew he wasn’t living a healthy lifestyle.
He was losing himself slowly, and it pained Y/n beyond words to see him live the way he was. She wished she could offer him more help than she was already giving him, but she was busy, too, and she never felt more upset with herself.
“I need my mum.”
The words he’d spoken an innumerable amount of times fell from his lips without much thought.
He hadn’t seen her since he decided to move away with Y/n, which was four years ago at the time. He had sacrificed his entire life to start a new one with Y/n. He figured that moving away with her to a different city would be his opportunity to start fresh on his music career and start making enough money for him, Y/n, and his family.
He had sketched plans upon backup plans to get his music going. He searched through all the different venues, music companies, music managements—everything he could think of—and spent nearly every hour practicing and writing.
He never expected that what he had to offer wasn’t good enough.
To those he showed his music to, there was a list of improvements they felt he had to make. They claimed that his music was either too mainstream or too different, and there was absolutely no in between. He found himself in a rut with his creations and it was far too late to move back in with his family since he nor Y/n were making enough money to pay their rents, bills, and a plane ticket back home.
Anne wasn’t able to afford visiting him either, though, so there was absolutely nothing the either of them could do besides wait until Harry’s music career started to take off—if it ever did.
He missed Anne more than anything. Although he was in love with spending every day with Y/n and getting to experience all of his miserable life with her, he missed the feeling of his mum being around him all the time. He missed absolutely everything about her, especially when he had his emotional breakdowns.
She was his rock and his provider his entire life, and he relied on her for everything until he decided to move away. She kept him sane through all his hectic times and was there for him when nobody else was.
Anne wasn’t only his mum, but she was his best friend, and continuing to live without knowing when he’d be able to see her again was Harry’s own personal hell.
“I know, darling.” Y/n whispered as she let his tears soak her shirt and his body shake in her arms.
He kissed her where her heart was as he squeezed her more into him. His entire world was in his arms and he’s never needed the weight of it more.
“Don’t ever think I regret my life with you, love, please don’t. But my mum, Y/n, my mum—I miss her so much. Phone calls don’t mean shit to me because I’m not w—with her.”
She only nodded, letting him vent to her without any interruption. It brought her comfort whenever Harry was having a breakdown, as sick as it sounded—it just brought her peace knowing that he was letting out all of the emotions he kept in for her sake. He was human, after all, and he deserved to have his moments.
“I need her, Y/n. I need her to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. I need her to kiss me and tell me how proud she is of me even though I’ve done nothing but fail those around me—like I fail you—and just hold me like she did when I was a kid.”
She shook her head instantly, slowly pushing his body away from hers in order to her eyes to meet his. They were red and soaked with tears, but they were beautiful and was always what got her weak in the knees.
The pads of her thumbs wiped away the tears that fell onto his cheeks, making sure to kiss him a couple of time while doing so.
“You never fail me, Harry. You give me a new reason to fall in love with you every single day and I thank God for you every time I look at you. Your love never fails me, nothing you do fails me. So never think that again, you hear me?”
And she really meant it more than ever, especially in that moment of Harry’s vulnerability. Her heart always hurt knowing that he wasn’t aware of how much she actually did give her, even if it wasn’t materialistic. Nobody provided her with as much love and safety as he had, and it was something she’d never be able to get enough of.
He got her through all her troubled times and all her insecure moments. She needed him and wanted him more than anything money could buy, and she’d spend the rest of her dying days attempting to make him believe it.
“You’ll see your mum soon, okay? If I can promise you one thing, it’s that you’ll see her soon.“
She kissed his cheeks again before they sat in silence together, all wrapped up in each other’s arms as they waited for Harry to finally calm down. They hadn’t found a lot of time within the past three weeks to spend loads of time together, so even just the half hour of holding one another was enough to mend him quite quickly.
“Can you promise me something else?” He breaks the silence, his voice slightly hoarse from the screaming that took place earlier.
“Can you promise me that whenever I see my mom again, that you’ll be there? I want you to meet her so properly and make her see why I want to marry you someday. I really want her blessing.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, grazing her lips softly against his forehead before muttering a small “I promise.”
That was a year ago.
Ever since that night, Y/n made it her first priority to find a way for Anne and Harry to reunite. She never wanted to see that side of Harry again, and she’s been through the God awful pain that came from missing a parent. Y/n had lost both of her parents in a car accident, and she never wanted Harry to go through what she had to for the following years.
So, she started working double shifts at her job—gathering and saving as much money as she possibly could for a couple of months straight. Airfare was quite expensive, especially since she planned on buying two round-trip tickets and intended on being able to pay the rent and bills for that month and somehow buy food and necessities during the trip.
She intended on leaving it a surprise for Harry, as well, and was able to make up plenty of excuses as to why she wasn’t able to be at home as much. He was quite upset, but she found it was quite easy considering Harry was keeping busy with his music throughout that time as well.
To say she was exhausted was an understatement. She had never worked so hard in her life and never thought she had it in her to make as much money as she did. It made the living situation slightly easier during the time. She knew every lost hour of sleep and every extra second spent working would all be worth it in the end.
And it was all worth it, especially now.
The confirmation for her order is right in front of her; two round trip tickets to Holmes Chapel. It’s a sight she’s been desperate to see for a year now, and she lets out a sob as she reads the words over and over again. It’s real, it’s happening, Harry’s ticket to happiness is right in front of her and she has never felt so accomplished in her life.
As she prints out the tickets from her nearly broken down printer—that took her almost two hours to fix—she contemplates whether to wait a week for their sixth year anniversary or just go to him now and gift it to him.
But as she stares at the plane tickets in her hands, she just can’t keep it a secret any longer.
Y/n’s holding everything Harry’s needed right in between her fingertips. Everything that Harry has worked so hard for is right here, inked on printer paper right in front of her and there’s just absolutely no way in hell she can keep this information from him—he’s waited long enough.
She eagerly makes her way to their bedroom, a slight squeal leaving her lips as she makes her way to the doorway of their room. She sees Harry in the bathroom, dressed only in a pair of black boxers as he shaves the stubble under his chin.
He smiles softly upon her entrance, but quickly goes back to shaving the extra bits of his facial hair. She bites her lip at his nearly fully exposed body, but quickly regains her composure as she remembers exactly what she’s here to do.
Harry pats the excess hair from his razor as he looks up.
“Hm?” He hums, his eyes drifting away from his reflection in the bathroom mirror over to where she stands beside their bed.
She has tears in her eyes, but they’re much different from those Harry has seen before. Normally, along with her tears comes a frown on her face and red-tinted cheeks—only the smallest examples of how much her features drown in sorrow whenever she’s upset. But as he stares at her in the way she looks now, there isn’t a trace of sadness within her. Instead, her lips are up in a slight grin and the eyes that are filled with tears are staring at him in admiration. She’s glowing, too, and he swears he wants to look at her in this way for the rest of his life.
“What’s that, love?”
He nods his head slightly, referring to the two pieces of paper that are clenched between her fingers.
She takes a step closer to him as her eyes gleam at the man she’d do anything for. She wishes nothing to be as close to him as possible in this moment, but also wants to be far enough so that she can fully see the product of a man who’ll finally be reuniting with his mother.
“I got you tickets to see your mum, Harry.”
As soon as the words leave her lips, Harry nearly chokes. He drops everything on the floor—his shaver and his comb hitting against the counter and nearly breaking to pieces around his feet. His hands grip along the edge of the sink, face paling and eyes widening at her through the bathroom mirror.
He almost thinks he misunderstood her somewhere—that maybe what she actually said got scrambled in his head to somehow make him hear what he could only dream of hearing. But her face reassures him that he did, in fact, hear her currently and that he just couldn’t believe it.
Y/n’s tears fall down her cheeks as she giggles, observing how he still hasn’t moved a single muscle and the color in his face still hasn’t returned.
“You’ll be at home for a month and you’ll be leaving in two weeks.”
She takes another step closer to him, her smile never fading as he finally lets out a choked sob. Tears are already forming in his eyes and his hands hold tighter against the sink, but words seemed to be trapped in his throat and all that his brain can process is the pounding of his chest and the air that has yet to be knocked out from his lungs.
“I know that when we talked, you said that if you ever had the chance to see your mum again that you’d want me to come with you. I figured that that would be unfair to you, since you have spent so much time with me and haven’t been able to see her in so long. I decided to compromise and—and I’m only visiting for the first week but I figured it’d be enough time to—Harry?”
Her eyes narrow i concern as she watches him nearly fall backwards from his prior position, nearly tripping over his own feet as he finally turns around to look at her properly. Neither of them say anything as Harry stumbles towards her frame—eyes still bewildered and face still pale. He nearly trips over the sheets on the floor, but he quickly regains his balance before his hands find their way upon her cheeks.
He wants to say everything he’s thinking—he wants to tell her how thankful he is and how much he loves her. He wants to express every ounce of gratitude and give her everything she’s ever deserved in this moment. Hell, he wants to get on his fucking knees and worship all the blessings she’s ever given him and love on her until she can barely speak anymore. But all that falters nearly seconds after he reaches her.
He sobs—complete soul shaking sobs. Everything he’s feeling completely overwhelms him to the point where he ends up on his knees. His body collapses and his lungs are constricted but he has never felt so good in his life.
Y/n falls with him, cradling him again her chest as she presses chaste kisses along his forehead. Her hands rub up and down his back in an attempt to calm him from his cries, but he doesn’t back down. He’s hasn’t felt this amount of happiness in so long that he feels there’s nothing else his body can do.
He reaches his hands up to her face again, admiring her from what he can see between all the tears in his eyes and the squinting of his lids. He presses his lips to hers, but the kiss doesn’t last long before he’s sobbing again—bringing her face down to the dip of his shoulder while he holds her there.
You used to call me your world and I remember living for that. I don’t know what it was about you that made you so special, but God, you were the best I’ve ever had. I didn’t think people like you existed, especially with people like me. I guess I never really thought I’d be lucky enough to be loved by someone like you. And during the time you still loved me, I want you to know that I didn’t take you for granted. I appreciated every single little thing about you, and every single thing you did. I fell in love with the things you hated about yourself. I don’t think I’ve ever been so devoted and given my all into anything before you. A love like ours was magic, and now I know why so many people say magic doesn’t exist. It’s all delusional. Love really is blind. Sometimes I wish I could’ve just snapped out of it like you did. But misery loves company and we both were fucking messes. I can’t hate you for leaving me, for breaking my heart, for moving on. I can’t hate you for trying to be happy. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. How could I hate someone who once defined the word love and showed me exactly what it felt like? I promised I’d always love you and now I’m fucking terrified that I will. I know that nothing lasts forever, and you always wanted to be everything. And in a world like this, it’s hard finding someone who will love you unconditionally, and I guess I was just hoping that I did. There’s seven billion people and all I fucking wanted was you. But you’re stuck on someone who sees you as one of the many pretty faces. All I ever saw was you. It was always fucking you.
I hate what you did to me but I’ll love you forever
You keep pushing people on your way to his office because you know what happens if you’re late for your meeting with him. He wants you to come to his office just twice a week. In the rest of the week you tell him what you want to buy and he buys it for you but it costs you your free time. Like this saturday when you fell in love with that lovely dress which was also very expensive and he saw the way you were looking at it so he bought it for a blowjob in the dress room.
When you’re finally in his cabinet you see Niall and some of his other friends in there. He’s looking for you with frowned eyerbrows. He keeps cheking his watch and holding his bottom lip between his fingers. You can almost hear his thoughts about punishing you.
“Harry!” You call him and every single person in there stares at you. “Sorry i’m late, i met Sophie at the street and…”
“Sit on the couch and wait for me. I’ll go to Louis’ cabinet first and after it i’ll take care of you.” He says and by the tone of his voice and his darkened eyes you can tell how mad he is. “Everyone else, out of here!”
It feels like an eternity while you wait for him to come back and tell you how he will punish you for being so late.
When the door cracks open you see him entering the room angrier then ever.
“So tell me again, what made you late with twenty minutes for our meeting, babygirl?”
“I saw Sophie at the street…” You start explaining but he walks to you and make you a gesture to get up.
“So you’re telling me your little of a friend is more important than me?”
He sits down on the couch and pulls you in his lap. His fingers go down on your skirt and soon they’re under your panties.
“N-no..” You try again.
This time his cold fingers are making slow circles on your clit and you can’t keep your thoughts sober. Around him you’re like a drunk version of yourself when you were fifteen. It’s been four years since then but he’s making you feel so young and free, so uncontrollable and desiring.
“Good, ‘cause you know, she can’t make you feel as good as i can.”
Now his finger is deep in your cunt, his lips are kissing your neck and his hot breath drives you even more crazy. He keeps the slow tempo he started with, teasing you. He always tease you so damn fucking much and when you try to return the favor it always ends with your butt spanked.
“Daddy…” You moan, holding onto his other hand which is resting now on your knee.
“So wet, babygirl, so hungry for me.” His voice is deep and husky and he sounds like he’s almost choking on his saliva because of the huge bulge in his trousers. “Do you want me to add a second finger, huh?”
You nod, not capable of doing anything else before he slides his other finger in you. A cry leaves your mouth when he sucks at the skin of your neck in the same time.
“Please, daddy, make me come. I’m so close…”
And he stops, pulling out his fingers off of you and wrapping his lips around them. You watch him, not knowing what to say and how to make him continue.
“You’re not allowed to come today. Sit down on the couch and keep this pretty mouth shut for the rest of the day. Don’t interrupt me until i’m done with my work and don’t even think of touching yourself. Unless you want to be spanked with my belt when we arrive at my house later.”
He walks to his desk as nothing happend and completely ignores you while you beg him to stop acting like that.
Hey guys! 😊 how long has it been? We are so terribly sorry we’ve been inactive and god we are just so sorry. We just weren’t feeling the sparks for writing, and we would never want to post something done half-assedly because you bby’s don’t deserve that. 🤗 so admin kenvy is working on the masterlist right at this moment and it’ll be up soon! yaaaaay, also this has been a request from a lovely anon. girl you thirsty. I worked on this at school because guYS IM PRETTY FUCKING SURE YOU’VE ALREADY SEEN KWON SOOMYOUNGS NEW LOOK LIKE BITCH SPEAR ME WITH YOUR DICK- anw so i just got so inspired to do so, and don’t worry guys! We will definitely grant all of your requests, please stay pretty and patient ❤️ alSO OH MY GOD GUYS 500+ FOLLOWERS, OUR FAMILY IS EXPANDING!! akdnkdndosnssidb. 😍 thank you so much for loving this little blog of ours, we love ya’ll so fucking much. What do you think we should do for reaching 500+!?
You are always free to ask us stuff you’re curious about, or if you have any problems we would love to help 😘 tell us abt your biases, your fantasies, be free and don’t hesitate. ❤️
-admin kate x
Also, for the lovely anon who had requested this, thank you so much for being patient ❤️ if it’s alright, i kinda made this one kinda different from the others, it’s short but i hope it’ll tug your heartstrings even just a little. But then again i’m so genuinely sorry if it isn’t to your taste but i am satisfied. Hope you enjoy bby. 😘 til next time, thank you for requesting! enjoy. 😉
warning: contains fluff, daddy kink and all that other good shit lol word count: 2,400+ disclaimer: the gif is not ours, ctto.
Meeting In Secret // Kol Mikaelson // requested .part three
Original Request : kol mikaelson imagine where the reader is damon and stefans sister and they sneak out to see each other and one day elena catches them and tells damon nd they all turn against her and then when Jeremy kills him she tries to kill him and maybeyou can use a lot of gifs too ???? sorry if its so long lol
Is there any chance you could do an epilogue for Meeting in Secret? Maybe like Stefan and Damon’s reaction to their sisters death and maybe regret?
You have to write part three to elena tell Stefan and Damon that their little sister is dead.
People have been requesting an epilogue where Elena tells Damon and Stefan that she killed their little sister so.. Here it is!
“Damon? Do you remember our last summer as humans?” Stefan asked.
“Of course, that was the summer Katherine manipulated her way into our home.” Damon responded, clutching the steering wheel.
“Well, yeah. But do you remember that one night? Before everyone was hunting vampires, Y/N snuck us out of the house just before dawn. She was only 15 at the time. And when we asked her what she was doing, she said-”
It was unlike any argument that you and Klaus had engaged in before, although this one started the same way it ended with one storming out.
“We have this fight every single time love, I am who I am and if that bothers you so much no-one is forcing you to stay”. Klaus stated, as he had done so many times in the past.
You watched as he looked on smug and proud of himself. “Do you know what your problem is Klaus, you always have to be right, you always have to be the man who has the last laugh. Well I hope you’re happy, because I’m done”. His smug expression fell as he watched you leave the compound, completely frozen unsure of what just happened.
New Orleans at night was wonderful, the music, the people, the city itself all came to life. The constant buzzing in your pocket was starting to get in the way of you enjoying the nightlife, pulling it out you weren’t surprised that Klaus name lit up the screen - 15 missed calls and 7 voicemail’s.
Deciding to listen to those voicemail’s, each one after the another said the same thing, expect for the last one. “Y/N I know you’re angry at me love, I was being a jerk and I apologize. But please I beg you to put your anger to the side for one moment and call me back, I need to know you’re safe”.
Klaus wasn’t always the easiest person to be with, but there were rare times just like this one that he revealed he had a good heart. So with that in mind you set your anger aside and went back home.
WARNING(S): Family abuse in the first few chapters.
Genres: Angsty fluff, Mystery, Fantasy, Adventure
Pairings: Jungkook x Reader
Sypnosis: You were 7 year old when you met him, Jeon Jungkook, the little boy covered with bruises and dirt hiding under your bed, but little did you know that this encounter would drag you into a new morbid world full of darkness and adventures, but also unexpectedly love. (Not Requested)
Life has never been easy for you. Actually, even the word arduous or difficult would be an understatement to describe your life before this day, the day you had found him.
At first, when you were a little baby, everything was fine. Your mother’s eyes were gleaming in happiness and your father had both pride and satisfaction while he stared at the family that was his. With time, you had grown into a cute little girl, as your parents loved to say. They were once very affectionate and loving.
Once, because when your mother got pregnant again, every single piece of your little perfect world fell down to show the true and cruel side of it: reality.
Because reality was that your mother was cheating on your father. She was having an affair with another man, much younger than her. You were happy to have a sibling, but your father wasn’t. Not at all. You didn’t understand him. You thought that it was normal to love someone since both your parents told you to give everyone love. But what can you say? You were only five year old at that time.
Hello, may I request prompt 52,42,22 and 6 with Sirius, please? thank you, your fics are amazing and they always make my day.
Can you tell I had fun with this??? (also, ty so much you fill my heart with joy)
52. Wow I can’t believe he said you were ugly, hun he is clearly blind 42. New drinking game: drink every time you’re a dickhead. Oh wait, I’ve already got alcohol poisoning. 22. How to kill the mood 101 and 6. Can I borrow your pencil quill, and your homework?
It was days like this that you cherished the most, where you and Sirius Black sat on your bed and talked for hours with a bottle of cheap fire whiskey. Spending these special moments with Sirius was better than anything you could ever ask for, any moment alone with Sirius was worth more than what all the money in the world could buy. Muggle and wizarding.
Sirius had this unique ability to listen and not just hear the words spilling from your lips. He had this remarkable talent of finding the humor in life as well, and with these two capabilities, he could brighten every single melancholic cell inside of you. Simply said, Sirius made you happy. And as you explained the entire conversation that had occurred between you and your ex-boyfriend earlier today, you could already feel the burden lightening.
Sirius took a swig of the fire whiskey sitting between the two of you and shook his head slowly. “Wow, I can’t believe he said you were ugly, hun, he is clearly blind.”
You snorted, dismissing the tickle of heat beneath the skin of your cheeks as an effect of the alcohol. “Sticks and stones, y’know? He’s obviously still bitter.”
You propped your head up on your arm and reached across to snatch the bottle from Sirius’ lap. He was sitting with his back resting against the headboard of your bed, while you were lying in the opposite direction. Once you had taken a swig, you placed the half-empty bottle beside you and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling and stretching your legs out onto the headboard.
“Did you comeback with anything?” Sirius wanted to know, a curious sparkle dancing in the depths of his grey eyes.
“I said something like ‘It’s a medical mystery as to how the healers thought you are a boy because you have nothing to show for it. It’s actually quite sad.’”
Sirius’ laughter filled the whole room, lighting up all the dark corners, and you wanted to capture the sound and get drunk on it for the rest of your days.
“That is…perfect,” Sirius praised, through the remnants of his amusement that bubbled from his lips. Your heart leapt at the sound of Sirius’ approval, “I’ve got to remember that.”
Sirius swung himself around so that he was lying beside you on his back and the two of you settled into a contented silence, where you tried to calm your thundering heart punching your chest like an angry fist (and he ignored the stampede of nerves thumping around in his stomach. And he wasn’t sure what made him say it, whether it was the alcohol buzzing in his veins, or the warmth that was soaking him in nostalgia, but before he could stop himself, he opened his mouth and his heart spoke for him, shattering the silence.)
“Really, though. You are so beautiful.”
Your eyes snapped to his gaze and remained frozen there for a long moment. Everything that was left unspoken was swirling in his eyes, and it both terrified and liberated you.
“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, trying to convince yourself that your ears were making up all the words you wanted to hear.
“I do,” he laughed, his voice like silver, “Every time I see you, you look even more beautiful.”
Adoration grew through your ribs like wild flowers, blossoming in your chest. You knew Sirius had a way with words, it was why girls doted over him so easily. But you shrugged off his gentle flattery with a laugh of disbelief.
“And now you’re lying about lying. New drinking game: drink every time you’re a dickhead. Oh wait, I’ve already got alcohol poisoning.”
Sirius’ hand found yours and he splayed his fingers against your soft hand, spreading warmth past your skin and into your bones. It was the type of warmth that could scatter any doubts away, that filled you with conviction that Sirius meant everything that he said.
“I have never lied to you,” Sirius whispered, “And I never will. All this time we’ve been friends, and I’ve always wanted something more. (Y/N), I love you, not only for what you are, but for who I am when I’m with you.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. All these years you had buried your feelings for Sirius deep down in the hopes of forgetting them completely. But now, Sirius was resurrecting every single one of them, breathing them to life with every word that fell from his lips. Your eyes flickered down to them, to how they looked so soft and tempting, and as the two of you leant forward, an excited voice rippled through the air, yanking the two of you apart immediately.
“(Y/N)! can I borrow your quill–?”
The curtains to your four-poster were yanked apart and James Potter’s face emerged from behind them, his hair messy and his eyes bright.
“Oh….am I interrupting something?” he waggled his brows obnoxiously, sending suggestive looks toward the two of you.
“Yes!” Sirius barked at the same time as you said “No!”
“N–No,” you reiterated hastily, fighting the blush that was creeping across your cheeks.
“How to kill the mood 101,” Sirius muttered bitterly, and you smiled at his words, but pretended not to hear him. Instead, you leapt off your bed and dug through your bag, retrieving your spare quill with a satisfied hum.
James stared at it for a moment and his signature smirk broadened, lighting up his elegant features devilishly.
“Actually, let me rephrase that: Can I borrow your quill and your homework? I’m asking for a friend.”
You snorted. “Sorry, your friend should really be more organized.”
“Organised?” James scoffed, “Who is she? Don’t know her, I’m afraid.”
“Hmm,” James hummed, “Maybe we should get acquainted. She might have a friend…”
“Yeah, I think her friend is ‘I don’t give a fuck so shut up and take the quill,” Sirius snapped, to which James feigned an offended expression.
“What type of evil is that? Giving someone such a long name… I pity her, I really do.”
You shook your head, the smile you were trying to smother eating its way across your face.
“You can have my quill, but not my homework. I’m not feeling that charitable.”
“It was worth a try…” he shrugged, before Remus and Peter filed into the room. Peter squeaked a sheepish ‘Hi’ while Remus gave you a warm, soft smile.
“Oh, by all means, invite everyone into (Y/N)’s room,” Sirius drawled, sardonically, “Who cares about privacy these days anyway?”
“I think that’s because we’re cock blockers,” James grinned, sending his friend a wink, “Alright, we’ll get out of your hair. But keep it chaste, children, I don’t want to be anyone’s grandfather anytime soon.”
With that, the three Marauders left, but not before James gave another obnoxious waggle of his brows and winked.
“Merlin,” Sirius breathed, “They’re a bunch of–”
You would never find out what your friends were a bunch of, because before he could say it, you had thrown yourself into his arms and kissed him. At first, he was shocked by your spontaneity, but then he began to reciprocate, his lips sinking against yours.
He held you close, one hand moving to cup your cheek while the other snaked around your waist as though he were trying to merge your souls. It was like magic, but not the kind of magic you can find in a book or be taught in any class, it was pure and beautiful and real.
It was Sirius, and there was nothing more beautiful and more chaotic than the magic that is Sirius Black.
What do you think an anniversary with Shawn would be like while you guys are dating like maybe a 1year anniversary?
that Shawn would be a morning person, right? Going to the gym first thing and
you’d be more of a night person. So on this day, Shawn would skip the gym and
actually sleep long, so you didn’t have to get up early. And you’d actually get
up early and make breakfast for the two of you to have in bed. You be all
cuddled up, eating pancakes and fruit. Shawn would be holding a strawberry in
his mouth and you’d take a bite of it while kissing him at the same time. He’d
stroke your hair and plant tender kisses on your nose tip while holding you in
his arms. “Do you even realize how
much I adore waking up to your pretty face every morning?” he’d ask you,
before kissing you.
How would Genji, Hanzo, Soldier: 76, and Zenyatta react to their s/o getting kidnapped and brainwashed Widowmaker-style while they were away? Please?
A/N: Oh my god, actual content from me? Stop the fucking presses, this is breaking news ladies and gentlemen. This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill, please remain calm. I said I’d put something out this week, right? Enjoy, hope it’s up to my usual standards.
No one is going to rescue you faster than Genji, anything standing between him and his beloved is going to be in several pieces. Now, you might not be exactly cooperative after Talon’s extensive torture recruitment process, but he’s taking you back home no matter what. He’s going to get you the help you need, even if you’re unable to realize what Talon did to you. It breaks his heart to use force against you, but it’s for the best, and Genji refuses to leave you to a fate like that.
He’s bringing in every single contact he has in an effort to break Talon’s conditioning, hoping to bring back the person he fell in love with. Mercy’s there for both your sake and his own, having a friend in trying times like this never hurts. Zenyatta’s also there, he managed to pull Genji from the darkest point in his life, and hopefully he can do the same with you. Granted, brainwashing and severe depression and anger issues aren’t exactly the same, but it’s semantics for Genji at this point.
Something to Save: He’s positively radiant once you return to your former self, it wasn’t exactly the quickest process, and there were some bumps along the way, but he missed you more than you know. Genji loves you, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to let Talon take you away. Don’t expect him to be leaving your side anytime soon, and even then, you’re staying with some of his friends in case they try this again.
Everything to Lose: Despite his best efforts, Genji couldn’t bring you back, not all of you. It pains him deeply, and he’s likely going to be spending a lot of time with Zenyatta to come to terms with his failure. Depending on how overtly hostile Talon made you, he might have to imprison you for the safety of others. He’ll be watching though, silently apologizing for failing himself, and more importantly, you.
Hanzo isn’t the most well-adjusted individual, so don’t expect him to take the whole ‘Kidnapping and Brainwashing’ thing very well. The man cut his own brother in half for disrupting the order of his clan, imagine what he’ll do to people threatening to harm his beloved. You’re leaving Talon’s clutches with him, no matter how hard “you” protest, he’s not leaving you to a fate worse than death. To lose yourself, to be a prisoner in your own body, forced against your will to become someone you’re not, someone like that could hardly be considered human.
While he may not have as many benevolent contacts as his younger brother, Hanzo certainly doesn’t lack connections, even if their motivations may be a little questionable. He’s willing to do almost anything to try and bring you back, from drugs to muscle memory, and everything in between. Hanzo might even debate trying conditioning of his own to try and overwrite what Talon did, dismissing it as it would make him no better than those who took you from him.
Bound, and Driven, by Love: Against the odds, Hanzo manages to pry you free from the mental prison Talon forced you into. There’s still some quirks here and there, but you’re mostly back to your former self, even if the process was rather arduous. You never gave up on him, even in his worst moments, and he wasn’t going to give up on you, and he’s never leaving your side again. Better to be safe than sorry, after all.
Loss Weighs Heavily on the Soul: Hanzo has lost his brother, his home, and now he’s lost you too. All of that loss weighs heavily on his soul, yours most of all, and he’ll never be whole again. He might convince himself that killing you would be for the best, rather than letting you wander the earth a shell of your former self, but he ultimately won’t be able to bring himself to do it. He’s sorry, for what it’s worth, he hopes that one day you’ll come to your senses, but it’s unlikely.
Jack told himself he wouldn’t get attached again, not after what happened to Overwatch. His compassion proved a liability once again, opening up a weakness for his enemies to exploit. He’s coming for you, but he’s seen Talon’s handiwork up close, some part of him hopes that they didn’t do to you what they did to Amelie, but he’s hardly holding his breath. Another mission, that’s how he’ll get through it, push all emotions aside and focus on the objective, rescuing a hostage.
His suspicions were confirmed, Talon was reusing the same strategy they utilized to kill Gerard. Did they know who he was, or was it simply a coincidence? Either way, he’s not willing to leave you there, not without making some sort of effort to try and free you from Talon’s control. He’ll consult with Ana about any drugs that could be used to treat your condition, Jack’s willing to try anything once for you.
Learning from the Past: A lot of a time has passed between Amelie’s tragedy and your own, and there’s been some promising development on the side of Overwatch with regards to conditioning like this. As long as you can get to the victim early, the damage can be reverted, mostly. A few quirks here and there, but all in all you’ll be back to who you once were. Don’t expect Jack to ever leave you without some sort of protection though, he’s not risking a repeat of this incident.
The War Goes On: It was just as Jack feared, a repeat of the incident with Amelie back in the Golden Age, Talon’s conditioning wasn’t known for it’s failure rate. Ana’s the only person he can trust in his personal war, he wouldn’t want to throw anyone else to the fire, it’s better to just shut himself off from everyone else. He can’t risk letting you terrorize the world like Amelie, this has to end before it begins. Jack’s sorry for what he must do, but he knows you’d understand. Compassion is a weakness, one that he can’t afford to have.
Zenyatta isn’t about to wage a one man war on Talon to get you back, his chassis is hardly capable of such an assault. Genji’s assistance will prove invaluable in rescuing you, safely returning you to his master’s side, though the news of your conditioning is trouble to say the least. Zenyatta has worked with troubled minds before, and his travels have given him great insight into the human psyche. If there’s anyone who can pull you from Talon’s clutches, it’s him.
Without a need to eat or sleep, Zenyatta is free to devote all of his time towards bringing you back, and dispelling the demon that Talon has planted within you. Everything else in his life falls away, his highest priority is saving you. The Iris embraces all, and through it you can return, no matter what Talon did to you.
Harmony Returns: Zenyatta’s efforts paid off, slowly pulling bits and pieces of your true self through the cracks in Talon’s conditioning. As more and more of you began to peak through, the cracks grew wider and wider, eventually shattering Talon’s hold over you. He’s pleased that he was able to help you, it would be devastating to lose you, particularly in such a malevolent way.
Discord Prevails: Even the greatest of the Shambali was unable to pry you free from Talon’s grasp, perhaps his faith in The Iris was simply not enough. Losing you weighs heavily on Zenyatta, but he takes it in stride, finding lessons to be learned in his failure. He’ll leave you in the custody of the authorities, frequently visiting you to check in, hoping that one day he can reunite with his other half.
Hey friend!! I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH AND YOURE SO TALENTED OM MY GOSH. Could you do one with Josh or Tyler where the reader and Tyler/Josh fight and don't talk for a long time (days) and then one of them breaks down. So like angst but then fluffy?!! HOPE YOU SMILED TODAY :))
TYLER JOSEPH IMAGINE
“Hey,” you say into your phone, “I’m just walking home from work right now. I haven’t heard from you in a couple days and I guess I just realized that I couldn’t remember what city you were in tonight. Newark? Maybe Toronto, I don’t know— wherever you are… it’s far. And I just wanted to say I miss you.” You take a deep gulp before continuing, “Anyway, hope the tour’s good, call me if you get a chance. Love you.”
With heavy fingers, you hang up the phone before returning it to your back pocket. You were hoping to catch Tyler before he and Josh went on stage tonight, but he was obviously occupied with other things. What those other things were, you had no idea. Tyler had been increasingly distant since his new tour started two weeks ago. Other than a couple of phone calls and a few returned texts, you’d barely heard from him.
In your head, you liked to think that you and Tyler were solid. You’d been together for seven years now. You survived the years and years of him and Josh just trying to make it through. You survived the endless nights of gigs in the same venues where the same handful of people would show up. Then, you survived the sudden spike in popularity of his band, and the chaos and madness that came with it. You survived the months and months of him being on the road, sometimes time zones away. And yet, every single time he left, you still got this dreadful feeling in the pit of your stomach that scared the hell out of you. Because the more times Tyler left, the more you were able to realize that this gig wasn’t short term. He was in this band for the long haul and life as you knew it when you first met and fell in love with Tyler, had changed.
You held on to the concept that after this tour, Tyler and Josh would have a little break. At least six months was what Tyler had anticipated before they went on the road again. That would give you and him time… much needed time… to rekindle your relationship and make your image of your solid relationship a reality again.
The concept of a long-distance relationship weighed heavy on your shoulders the rest of the way home. You tried distracting yourself, thinking about what you were going to make for dinner instead, but it was no use. Your problems with Tyler pushed their way to the forefront of your brain with force and power, clouding your mind.
In fact, you were so distracted with your thoughts that you barely even heard the music coming from inside your supposed-to-be-empty-apartment.
You stop dead in your tracks, your mind wheeling back to reality as you’re faced with the situation at hand. You hesitated slightly, your heart beating loudly in your chest before opening the door slightly. You recognized the sound as Tyler’s record player.
As you stepped inside, you immediately smelled something delicious.
“Crap!” you heard someone say.
You jumped at the sound of his voice, but turns towards the kitchen to see a surprised looking Tyler wearing mismatched oven mitts and holding a casserole dish in his hands.
“I thought you were getting out at 6…” he says.
You sincerely hope he puts down that casserole dish because you can’t help but fling yourself in his direction, dropping your bag and jacket in a heap on the floor with tears already welling up in your eyes.
(Tyler does in fact set the dish down) before you crash your body into his. You wrap your arms around his neck and let him spin you in a circle before setting you back down.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be home for a week,” you say, smiling widely.
“We had the night off,” he explains.
You press your lips to his desperately, trying to make up for the last couple of weeks without him around. When you finally pull away, there’s a smile plastered over his goofy-looking face.
“I attempted dinner,” he says.
It’s spaghetti and sauce, which was about the only thing Tyler truly knew how to cook. You weren’t complaining though. The mere image of seeing Tyler sitting across the table from you was enough to make you want to eat spaghetti for the rest of the week.
“So how’s the tour?” you ask, twirling another bundle of noodles together on your fork.
“It’s good,” he says in between bites. “The venues are insane, I couldn’t believe the size of some of these places, but most are selling out, so it’s all good,” he chuckles.
You nod as you chew.
“We started recording the new album,” he says.
His words are quite and muffled even more so by the pasta swirling around his mouth. But it’s loud enough to catch your attention and make you look up from your plate. He’s refusing to meet your gaze as he focuses on the meal in front of him, but you continue to stare.
“You what?” you ask, keeping your tone as smooth as possible, trying not to let the surprise be evident in your voice.
“Yeah, well I mean just a few songs here and there, but we think it’ll be done soon.”
You shake your head suddenly, putting down your fork and looking Tyler dead on.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand… so you’re going to finish the album up now, then what? Let it sit for a bit?”
“No…” Tyler says, looking equally confused, “We’re going to finish up the album, release it, then tour it… You know the drill.”
“What about the break?” you say, your voice getting more and more heated.
Tyler sighs heavily before putting his own silverware down. “Y/N…”
“No-“ you say, emotion starting to flood into your words, “Don’t ‘Y/N’ me… You said that after this tour there’d be a break. I mean, did you not?”
Tyler sighs, like this entire conversation was becoming a burden.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you…”
“I want you to tell me why you said you were taking a break after this tour if you had no intention of doing so.”
Tyler pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly growing irritated as well.
“I never said for sure that there’d be a break, so I don’t know why you’re acting all defensive about this.”
“You did, actually… you said that we just had to make it through this stretch and then you’d be home for a break. Six months with no tour or recording or interviews. Just a break.”
You could feel yourself becoming riled up. Of course Tyler knew what he said, but he’d be damned it he ever admitted to being wrong.
“So, what I’m trying to understand is why you would say that if you didn’t mean it—“
“Just because you’re allowed to sit at home constantly doing absolutely nothing doesn’t mean I can!” Tyler snaps, finally looking up. “Someone’s gotta pay the bills and actually work. Because this is my job, you know? I can’t just take six months off whenever I feel like it.”
You look at him with venom in your eyes, but hurt in your heart. Tyler’s words cut through you like glass, shards of it breaking off and cutting deep.
“I’ve always dreamed of being successful in this band, and now that that’s actually happening, you can’t stand it.”
“That’s not true—“ you try to interject. Your voice catches in your throat as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.
“It is true!” Tyler takes a deep breathe, collecting himself before continuing in a softer tone, “You liked me when I was at the bottom because it made you feel less shitty about yourself. Because then we were both losers.”
His words hang heavy in the air and you hold your breath, refusing to swallow them down. You thought that if they just lingered then maybe the reality of their context wouldn’t hit you fully.
But your emotions caught up and you couldn’t hold back the tear that fell silently down your cheek.
You look at Tyler, sitting across from you. He looked the same. Short hair, swallowed eyes, flushed skin. But he was so different from the person you met eight years ago.
People change. That was not a new concept for you. And they say that people who are in love change together, growing closer and working as a team. But as you stare across the table at Tyler, his hand pulled into a tight fist, resting on the table, you realized that the two of you had not changed together. Instead, you’d grown apart.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and bundled up the napkin that had been resting on your lap before standing up. His words still stung as you opened your mouth to speak. Anger, resentment, frustration… all flooded through you. But hurt was the most prominent emotion… the one that made it’s appearance in your words.
“Good luck on the new album,” is all you can manage to say before your throat caught on the lump you’d tried swallowing earlier. You collected your purse from the chair near the door before twisting the knob and hurrying out without looking back.
You made your way down the street, half expecting Tyler to race after you. But you got further and further from home, and heard no protests or calls of your name, so you continued dreadfully all the way to your friends house across town.
They were warm to welcome you inside, and assured you that you could stay as long as needed.
“He should be gone by morning,” you told them, smiling appreciatively. “Thanks.”
No texts. No calls.
No note when you returned home the next morning.
He was gone, the apartment looking exactly how you left it, and the gaping hole inside you seemed to grow just a bit bigger.
The days to follow were excruciatingly painful. Tyler didn’t reach out to you, and you didn’t reach out to him. Part of you wanted to believe that this was just some horrible fight you two were having, but the logical part of your brain made you wrestle with the fact that this could be the end of your seven-year-relationship. The final chapter, written specifically with pain and anguish in mind.
You wanted to call, just to talk and to find out where you both stood in all of this. The break was your one plan to restore the fire that once burned between the two of you, but now that that was gone out the window, you had no idea where to look for hope.
You always thought of Tyler as being the love of your life. But maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.
You didn’t call. Part of you was still so angry about the words he said. You were afraid you’d burst into angry, embarrassing tears the minute he picked up the phone. So you just stayed clear. You let the silence speak for itself.
The silence did nothing to help the gaping hole inside your chest.
It made it hard to sleep. On day three, you laid in bed, your arms wrapped around your frame in an attempt to hold yourself together. But your mind raced for hours about what was going to happen. Exhaustion finally took over, crashing over you and sweeping you into an uneasy sleep.
You were woken up abruptly in the middle of the night, your clock reading 3:56 a.m., by a loud noise. You would have thought it was in your dream had it not been for the continuing footsteps that followed the noise.
You sat up in bed, your heart racing at the immediate thought of an intruder in your apartment. You slipped off from your bed and grabbed the baseball bat Tyler kept hidden under the bed, ready to clock whoever the robber was when the door creaked open.
You almost screamed as the moonlight coming in from your open shade illuminated Tyler’s sunken face.
“Jesus Christ!” you gasped, dropping the bat and clutching your chest.
“Sorry!” he says quickly, holding his hands up in defense. “I didn’t mean to scare you…”
“What the hell are you doing here, it’s 4 a.m! I could have bludgeoned you to death!” you say in your loud-whisper voice.
“I came straight from a show—“ he explains. “I’m sorry it’s so late, but I had to see you—“ you’re half sure you hear his voice crack. “It’s like I couldn’t function these last few days. I left so mad, but once I got out there and started playing, I couldn’t thinking about anything but you.”
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, letting Tyler continue.
“I just kept thinking what if the next time I come home…” this time his voice definitely does crack, “what if— what if the next time I come home, she’s not there?” you hear him break and your chest heaves from the sound of it.
“I couldn’t stand thinking about coming home and you not being here— I couldn’t stand it, I had to come home. I had to see you,” you see his silhouette shaking violently in the doorframe, tears evident in his voice and you want to run over to him, wrap your arms around him and hold him tight. But you hesitate. You’re unsure and afraid and nothing makes sense in your mind right now.
“I said awful things,” he continues, sniffling hard, “Awful things that make me deserve to be alone. But I didn’t mean any of them. Not a single one. I was tired and upset about the fact that our break got postponed again and I knew you’d be mad about it, but there’s nothing I can do— I got locked in without realizing and I just don’t know what to do.” He pauses, watching your face, and trying to gage a reaction. “Just tell me. Tell me what you want from me. Do you want me to quit?” he asks, his eyes glistening with tears. “Because I will. I just, I don’t know how we got here— I don’t know what happened. We were strong and we talked and now… I just don’t know what happened.
And I have no idea what to do. All I know is I want to stay here, right here— with you. I have the tour and the music but you, you’re all that matters to me. The other stuff is nothing. It’s nothing without you. But I don’t know what to do. I’m trying to figure it out, but I don’t know— and I just… I need you to tell me what to do, because I don’t know. I have no fucking idea, I just need you to tell me,” Tyler’s voice is frantic and desperate. There’s tears running fluidly down his cheeks as he pleads in front of you.
You can’t help it anymore as your heart breaks in front of him. You rush over, taking long strides before opening your arms and crashing into him. He’s still shaking violently, whispering the same phrase over and over, “Please… I need you to tell me, just tell me what to do—“
“Shh,” you whisper, rubbing his back.
He finally hugs back, wrapping his own arms around you and burying his face in your hair. You can feel him heaving as he sobbed into your shoulder and you held on tight.
You’re not sure how long you stay like that, wrapped up in each other, both scared about the future and what it might bring. It was long enough to make the back of your heels burn from standing there. It was long enough for your light gray shirt to be stained dark from Tyler’s tears. It was long enough for his familiar scent to wrap you up and make you feel at home again.
When you finally untangle, you’re quick to grab back on to Tyler’s hand, desperate to keep touching him for as long as you could. You led him over to the bed where you both climbed in silently. As you curled into his side and rested your head on his chest you sighed deeply, feeling exhausted equally mentally as you did physically.
But Tyler felt like home. His embrace, his smell, the sound of his voice. It was all things that made you feel loved and valued and important. And you knew you’d both changed. You knew you’d both grown slightly apart. But this was not how your story was going to end. This was not the final chapter in your book, because Tyler was still Tyler and you were still you and your love still had some spark left in it.
“We’re gonna make it,” you whisper into the dark room, clutching to the fabric of his cotton shirt.
Tyler squeezes you gently before kissing the top of your head. “We’re gonna make it,” he repeats.
The promise was sincere and bursting with love. It caught the spark. Your love would continue burning.
Hi! I don't know if you're still doing Descendants prompts but if you are, can you do a Mal x Evie one where one of the girls is sick and the other one takes care of her and is all overprotective? If you're not doing prompts anymore you can disregard this ask. (:
Let me be honest: I absolutely LOVE this idea, it makes my shipper heart happy. I hope it’s fluffy enough for you because when it comes to someone getting hurt and writing it… I’m always up for the angst.
Her left side felt like burning and an unimaginable pain was crawling slowly up until it reached her shoulder. Her face contorted in pain and oh, dear God maybe the blue-haired just noticed her painful expression when they turned to the right, heading straight to their dorm room to change their dress into another one, one more appropriate to dance the rest of the night. And it wasn’t until she looked at herself in the mirror and saw her dress completely torn on the side that she saw what felt like a second-degree burn on her skin, probably a consequence of the dragon they fought earlier. Her mother. Maleficent.
okay this very quickly got too long for your ask box shades so,
After Sasshi’s comment last night I got thinking: what if we had gotten new stages?
they never would have come out on the schedule they gave us, but say that each existing team got a new stage by the end of 2015. This would be after most of the big grads, and these new units would have been tied to newer gen members. The new girls would have had their own images, their own memorable songs to put their mark on the idol landscape. RH would be more interesting with wota competing for their new favs.
Instead of new48 being a gigantic akb cover band, they could develop their own style and sound without being compared to the ori members every time they step onstage. because right now that’s what 48g is. a cover band of itself.
new songs/units could have easily brought the new lifeblood that the group needed over the past two years, and i may not be a marketing genius, but I feel like giving new music to the you know, music group, could have kicked off the new era way better than a chicken nugget promotion and a fucking boat.
The thing is, I fell in love with the ori girls through the stages and unit songs. This singles were great, but you only get to see so much of each member in them. It was the stages where their personalities came out and they shined the most.
I have members of the 10+ gens that I like, but I never fell in love with any of them (minus lemon obvs) because apart from in variety, they are just replacements for the girls I knew. Giving the new gens their own foundation of great songs could have captured all those fans of the ori gens who were now without oshis and favorite teams.
What should have happened is one big shuffle, then 2 solid years of new stages. Can you imagine how popular some of the 10-15 gen combos could have been? A Tano/Tomu unit? A 3 Musketeers unit? A Jurina centered unit to help propel some of the newer SKE girls?
Yeah there were the Chu units and stuff, but they seemed like an afterthought tacked onto existing singles.
HKT has been a group, and bc of Sasshi, a driving force in the 48G for more than 4 years. And there are no stage songs I associate with them because they don’t have any. A group supposedly based around stage shows has no songs. Minus Sasshi, and maybe Sakura, the HKT members as a whole have fewer original songs than Team A.
Watching concerts got boring because as much as I love the old stage songs, I’ve seen them each a dozen times or more, and they never live up to the wonder of the originals. not because the new girls are worse, but because the stage songs will always be tied to the original members in the heads of fans.
Call me a cynic, but even Sasshi can see that akb is dying, and no amount of new ngt wota money is going to change that. New stages might have. And I am bitter af. There was a passion in old 48, something you could feel through the staff, the fans, and the amount of work and care put into the concerts and events. Everything I hear about now and over the past two years just feels like aki milking the last out of cash cow hooked up to life support. There’s not heart left. No core of familiar faces and lovable characters. The stages could have been a fresh start for 48g, a solid foundation upon which to launch new and exciting idols, just as iconic as the ori gens in time.
but no. instead we got a ton of talented 10-15 gen girls burning out and leaving because they realized that it just wasn’t worth it, a totally new team full of possible stars that got almost completely ignored, and a super hyped new cover band who apparently has a lot of money but almost nothing to spend it on.
Some people believe in love at first sight; others believe that love is part of a process, part of something that constantly develops. Maybe those kinds of love exist. I cannot tell. Because the only time I ever fell in love, it was with you. And I fell in love with you for every single thing that you are. It wasn’t love at first sight exactly. I knew who I was in love with when I realized that I had fallen in love with you. You weren’t a stranger anymore then, someone I just met. I knew you. I knew what decisions you made in your life, what dreams you wanted to become reality and I knew your smile. The one you fake, but also the one you reserve for me. I also refuse to accept that my love for you has been part of a process. Because it was clear all this time, ever since the first moment I saw you, that you are the one. I did not see nor know the truth back when I met you - how could I? I didn’t know you. -, but there was only one way for me to go from there: to fall in love with you. You never owed me anything. There are no debts in love. But I want you to know that I love you and I’m in love with you. I was yesterday, I am today and I will be tomorrow. I know now that once love is there, it will never leave. Love is rare, and I never knew what it would be like, what it would feel like. I know now ever since you are here. As long as you are by my side, I know what love is. If you leave, the love will still be here, but it won’t be visible. Not for others, not for you, and certainly not for me. Yet love is not evanescent. It can be ignored or shushed, but it can never go away. So you can leave me, my life will go on without you. Or you can stay, and my life will go on with you by my side. My love for you won’t die with whatever choice you make. But it is your choice whether this love will be lost for me or if it can exist for you too.
that book of mine about a love that I know exists (M.B.)