#but in like. far away future. anyway bye

[yescking]

[emmyrosee]

GIRL I GOT ANOTHER IDEA SO EXCUSE ME😝

SO u come back from work super tired from a really hard day and have no energy to take ur makeup off so sukuna offers to do it for u and LET ME TELL YOU this man does not know how to do anything without being aggressive 🙄(typical) so hes drowning the cotton pad in makeup remover and starts aggressively rubbing on ur face purposely just to make u laugh and ur giggling and laughing and slapping his chest telling him to stop cause he’s getting the remover in ur eye and he has no idea what he’s doing THEN ITS ENDS UP BEING ALL KISSY AND STUFF ANYWAY BYE❤️❤️❤️🩷

-Anon🥢

IM GOING TO- *combusts*

———

The way you haphazardly toss your keys on the table, only for them to slip and fall off is exactly the last thing you need.

After today, where one step forward was three back, where nothing went right and nothing was easy, the sight of your keys on the floor has your body tensing in annoyance and shrills of angst down your spine.

You let out a shaky sigh, “I’m home!”

No reply. Your hands ball into fists, “I SAID IM HOME!”

“DAMN I heard you, gimme three seconds!” A gruff voice calls back. You can’t fight the smirk that wants to spread on your tired features, and your hands come up to rub your exhausted eyes. Loud footsteps come down the hall and you drop your hands to blink at him. He snorts, “raccoon looking ass.”

“Oh. Right. I was wearing mascara.”

“It’s fine, not like you’ve got to impress me anyways,” he says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “how was your day?”

“Terrible,” you whine. You angle your head to look up at him, “can’t I just be your pretty girlfriend and you provide for me?”

He snickers, “I offered, you told me that if you didn’t have independence you’d smother me with a pillow. So no. You can’t.” You groan and bury your face in his chest, and he clicks his tongue, “I can take care of you now, though. If you beg prettily enough.”

“You’re going to make your overworked, burnt out, exhausted future wife beg for your attention?”

“No. I’m going to make her beg to be babied.”

You paw at his chest, fingers fisting the collar of his shirt, “please, sukuna, take care of me for a bit. I’m so tired, and you know how much I already hate asking for your help, but I need you. Please, I just want to be loved for a bit.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your forehead, “that’s more like it. C’mon-“ he bends down to hook his massive hands under your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. You giggle and instinctively tighten your arms around his shoulders, “let’s get your clown makeup off.”

“‘S not clown makeup,” you pout, playing with the hair of his buzz cut. “Tell me I’m pretty.”

“Dawg.”

“Please?” You mewl, pulling back to look down at him, and he rolls his eyes and nudges the bathroom door open with his knee.

“Fuck, you’re really in a headspace huh?” He says, plopping you on the counter. He braces himself on either side of your legs, and he looks you up and down. “Of course you’re beautiful, baby. Taking a lot of control to not smother you right now. Especially with you all pliant, fuck you’re so pretty. Let me take care of you, yeah? Let me make ya feel better.”

“Okay,” you hum. He leans up to press a kiss to your lips before opening the drawer for a cotton square he knows he’s seen you use before. Then, he reaches just behind you to the small shelf, and grabs your makeup remover. “You know what you’re doing?” You ask.

“Babe, I’ve seen you do this more times than I care to count,” he scoffs. “Trust me. I know far too much about what I’m doing.” He pops off the cap and absolutely drenches the poor cotton in an overwhelming amount of makeup remover. He starts to bring it to your eyes, and you laugh and duck away.

“Baby, that’s too much!”

“More makeup remover, more makeup removed,” he says, and while his logic is wrong, you do giggle at the idea he’s trying to help, and while it’s amusing, you don’t want to lose this domesticity with him either.

So, you close your eyes and laugh more as he applies the wet cotton round to your eyes, pressing hard enough the juices spill over your cheeks. “Sukuna!” You titter.

“You want this done or not?” He asks, smearing the cotton around your eye and cheek to try and swipe off any makeup clinging to you. He’s rough with his wiping, pulling your eyes and making your cheeks hot from friction, and you swat at his hands to try and make some relief. “Okay, now you’re hindering.”

“It burns,” you confess, but you’re still laughing.

You practically feel the air go from goofy to panic, “what burns, what do you mean it burns, why does it burn, it doesn’t burn when you do it right?”

“Chill, you big baby,” you snort. “It’s in my eye because you used all 200% of your strength on my damn socket. Just get me a wet cloth, it’ll be fine.”

You watch him fling open the closet door and grab a small washcloth, dampening it with water before passing it to you. He clicks his tongue, “for reference, this is why I never offer to help you.”

“Because you use your brute strength and power to battle the very-easily-removable-mascara from my eyes?”

“Exactly.”

You smile up at him while he tosses the cotton round in the trash, only to then scowl down at you when he meets your gaze. “The fuck’re you looking at?”

“My boyfriend, who loves me,” you coo, and he rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your lips, which you happily reciprocate.

“He smeared makeup all over your face,” he snickers. “You look rough.”

“That’s okay,” you shrug. “He tried his best.”

“Ew.”

[midnight-xx]

Could you write a hiccup x reader and r has a night or light fury? Maybe they meet when they both raid the same dragon trapper fleet?

Yesss ofc I can!!!! Btw reader has a light fury in this one bc I alr wrote a couple where reader has a night fury

INEFFABLE

Pairing: Hiccup x GN!Reader

Timeline: The beginning of HTTYD 3

Synopsis: During a raid, Hiccup finds the possible future of the night fury population and the Haddock bloodline

— ཐི♡ཋྀ—

Hiccup and Toothless crept through the ship, examining the cages where innocent dragons were held. The rest of their friends were spread out on the ship as not to attract too much attention to their mission.

“What is it, bud?” Hiccup asked as Toothless sniffed the air. The night fury looked over in one direction before creeping over to whatever he smelled.

“Hey, come back!” Hiccup whisper-yelled as he followed after his dragon. Toothless continued on his mission as Hiccup caught up to the night fury.

Hiccup finally saw what Toothless smelled. Weaving among the cages was a person and what looked like a night fury, but white and with a few different features. Toothless looked between Hiccup and the two excitedly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

”Is that… another night fury?” Hiccup asked, but then took a closer look. “No, maybe we should call it something else.”

“I call her a light fury,” A voice said from behind him. Hiccup whipped his head around with a quiet yelp to look at the person that snuck up behind him.

They raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

Hiccup’s look of bewilderment changed to one of mild astonishment when he saw them. “O-oh yeah, I’m fine. Perfect, even.”

“If you say so,” the person said. “Anyways, is that a night fury?”

“Yeah, his name is Toothless,” Hiccup replied.

“…why would you name him Toothless? He has tee— oh,” The person cut themself off when they saw the night fury’s teeth retract.

The two riders watched as Toothless and the light fury sniffed each other excitedly and warily, respectively.

“Hiccup? Hiccup!” A few voices called out from not far away, and the aforementioned man recognized them as his friends.

“I’ll see you around, eh?” Hiccup asked as he watched the other person leave.

“Yeah. Maybe.” The person slunk off into the shadows, then suddenly reappeared. “Oh yeah, my name’s (name).”

“(Name)…” Hiccup respected quietly, liking the way it sounded on his tongue.

“Bye,” (Name) said, again, and finally disappeared along with their dragon. Only a second later, the rest of his friends found Hiccup rooted to the spot and staring at the spot where (name) disappeared.

Toothless crooned disappointedly, and Hiccup sighed. “I know, I feel ya bud.”

Hiccup glanced at the spot one last time before climbing onto Toothless’s back and flying away on silent wings with his friends, a warm feeling in his face despite the cool night breeze.

— ཐི♡ཋྀ—

links

ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ

[darlingyus]

in the next life.✦ ⌇ park sunghoon

GENRE: slice of life, romance (i.e., a whole lot fluff), boyfriend!sunghoon x gn!reader

WARNINGS: lots of touching and kissing (non-explicit), references to past and future lives

WORD COUNT: 518

AUTHOR’S NOTE: yes this is inspired by that one clip of sunghoon reading out the comment about his moles. something about moles being markers of where you have been kissed is SO cute to me so i had to write this okay hope yall enjoy bye <333

When you were growing up, you used to dread Sundays. Not because anything particularly bad ever happened—but because they marked the end of the weekend, always arriving with the quiet warning that Monday morning and school were just around the corner.

But now, in your twenties, Sundays have become your favourite.

Because Sundays are specially reserved just for you and your boyfriend.

The hazy skyline of Seoul flickers in the far-off distance, painting every corner of your small apartment in warm, opalescent gold. The air feels lighter this morning—but different, too. Charged with something softer. Quieter. It’s one of those rare mornings when the rest of the city hasn’t quite woken up yet, and it feels like you and Sunghoon are the only two people left in the world.

You study the boy in front of you in the comfortable silence. Eyes trailing over every curve, every line, every quiet detail that softens his sleeping face. Like a painter studying their muse, you commit each feature to memory, as if trying to hold onto him in some eternal, wordless way.

Seeing him like this— here, in your bed — makes your chest swell with something you still can’t name. You’re sure it’s not just love. Not the kind you read about, anyway. Love feels too small a word to contain everything that stirs inside you when you look at him. This is deeper. Constant. All-consuming. Like a wound that aches and aches, but never fully heals.

“There’s this saying,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, “that moles show where your past lover kissed you the most.”

Sunghoon stirs slightly, meeting your gaze through the heavy blanket of his lashes. You reach up and gently trace the one on his cheek with the pad of your thumb. He doesn’t look away—just watches you with that gaze he reserves only for you: warm, unguarded, quietly fond. Sunghoon has always had a way of looking at you as if you were the only person on Earth worth looking at.

“Your past lover must’ve really adored you,” you tease, lips tugging into a sleepy smile. “You’ve got one on nearly every part of your body.”

He hums, amused. “You have them too. Two on your stomach. One on your right thumb.”

You pout, mock-offended. “That’s nothing compared to yours. I don’t think mine loved me as much as yours did.”

A brief silence settles between you. Then Sunghoon shifts closer, mattress dipping under his weight.

“I don’t know about past lovers, but…” he trails off.

And then his lips are on your skin.

First, the base of your throat—slow, careful. Then your jaw. Your temple. Your shoulder. Your stomach.

Each kiss lands with a little more intention than the last, like he’s trying to etch something into you. His mouth never lingers long in one place, instead trailing heat across your skin like he’s painting you with nothing but his lips.

You exhale shakily, a lump rising in your throat.

“I’ll make sure,” he murmurs against your lips, “that in your next life, you wear proof of how much I loved you.”

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 1400+

Note: another short one, continuation of part 1 you can read it here

Part 3

-

You barely made it to the driveway with your luggage, and your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, was literally following you into the parking lot in his boxers, practically begging you not to leave him. “Babe, please don’t go,” he said, holding onto the door handle on the driver's side, stopping you from getting in.

“Move,” you told him dryly, trying your best to keep your composure.

“No” he shook his head back and forth and you sighed deeply. “Let’s just talk it out, please, y/n. I regret what I said, and I don’t even know why I said it cause I love you, and I need you so much, baby. You don’t understand. Just the thought of not waking up next to you, is killing me inside.”

“Well, you said it so easily like our relationship meant nothing. You ended five years in five seconds like my feelings didn’t matter. It killed me inside to hear you say that to me, and now you only care now that you’re hurting,” you kept your tears at bay for however long that would be.

“No baby, listen, I love you, okay? I was stupid to even say that to you. I’m sorry I hurt you.” his hand slipped off the handle, reaching to take hold of your hand, but you evaded his touch.

You unlocked the car, attempting to leave so you wouldn’t have to talk to him any longer. It was already hard enough to leave him. You didn’t want to make it harder and stay.

“Wait, y/n, I-“

“I thought you said you were done talking,” you rudely cut him off, replying to him harshly.

“I meant none of it. Believe me, please just come back inside.” You could hear the desperation in his voice grow with every syllable.

“Nothing you say can ever change my mind.” You used his own words against him, glaring at him as you opened the back door and loaded up your luggage before entering the driver's side.

“Just give me a chance, please, baby, don’t leave me.” his voice was soft, barely audible after being mixed with the strong winds outside.

“I’m done talking” you shut the door in his face no matter how many tears rolled down his cheeks and no matter how hard he tried to get the door open you ignored it all backing the car out of the driveway while he begged and pleaded for you to stay even going as far to come out into the street despite the neighbors watching the whole scene unfold.

A tear finally rolled down your cheek, and you could still see him in your rearview mirror, watching him for one last time as you got further and further away from him.

He stood at the edge of the driveway, not even caring about being in his underwear. All that plagued his mind was the thought of never seeing you again as your car disappeared into the distance.

-

You arrived safely at your parent's house a few hours later. They asked tons of questions when you came through the door, but all you told them was that you and heeseung broke up.

That’s the only thing you could manage to get out.

Of course, they were shocked, angry, curious, and sad all at once, but you couldn’t talk about it right now. You were too hurt. Toluckily, they understood you wanted to be alone right now, and you appreciated that cause you just needed some time to register what was actually happening and what breaking up with heeseung meant for your future.

You plopped down on your old bed after putting your luggage down, staring at the ceiling and wondering how things went so wrong in the past year.

One week after the breakup

[Voicemail One]

“Hey baby, did you arrive safely? I texted you a week ago, but you didn’t read them,” he dryly chuckles. “Anyways, I hope you did. I hope you’re resting well and having fun with your family. I’m sorry again for hurting you; I just- I don’t know,” he sighs frustratedly. “You’re probably never gonna get this, uhm, bye, I guess.”

Two weeks after the breakup

[Voicemail Two]

“Hey, little one, I know you’re not listening, but it brings me comfort just sending this to your phone. It’s like I’m really talking to you.” he clears his throat softly. “I miss you, and I love you so much, can’t stop thinking of you and what you’re up to. I’m not doing much; I'm just working like always, but I’m off this week. They gave me a full week's vacation,” he sighs, wishing he had gotten it a few weeks sooner. Maybe that dreadful night wouldn’t have ever occurred. “Wish I could spend it with you. I wish I could spend every day with you.” he goes silent, just thinking about you and him and all the things he could have done differently instead of irrationally taking his anger out on you. “I hope your days are better than mine. I’m gonna go now. Bye love”

Three weeks after the breakup

[Voicemail Three]

“Hi love, how are you? I’m doing good, but it could be better. Vacation isn’t the same without you. It’s so…. Silent, I miss our conversations. I miss how we’d just cuddle all night and be lazy together, “ he laughs. “It’s ironic now I have all this free time and no one to spend it with. I know this will be the most boring week of my life, but I hope you’re having fun wherever you are, even if it’s not with me. Talk to you later, baby.”

One month later…..

[Voicemail Four]

“Hi, sweetheart. I thought you might like to know I’m sleeping more and eating a lot more, too. I barely get any work done now cause I’m always thinking of you. You take up every crevice of my brain. I’ve been sleeping 'cause it feels like time goes faster that way, and when I’m asleep, I don’t have to think about how much I miss you, and well, I eat more 'cause I’m bored,” he chuckles at himself. “I’m a mess, but I’m sure you already know that. By the way, I literally begged for you to stay. Well, I’m sure I’m probably ringing your ear off, so I’ll say bye. I’ll call you again tomorrow, same time. Love you, baby, bye!”

Two months later…..

“Oh umm, hi, I wasn’t expecting you,” heeseung grins at your mom, who was standing outside his door.

He wasn’t expecting any visitors, but he was pleasantly surprised to see her face.

“Hi,” she greets, simply not as cheery as she once used to be when she saw him. “Y/n said she had a few things, and I offered to get them for her.”

Heeseung nods with a smile, opening the door wider so your mom can enter. “Come in.” he can’t say that he’s not a bit sad that you didn’t come over to get the remaining items you had left at his place. He was hoping maybe he’d get to see you at least one more time, but apparently not.

Your mom enters with perfect posture, her head held high, making it obvious that she wasn’t the least bit impressed with what she used to call her son-in-law.

“How are you?” He says timidly while they walk to the living room, where your stuff is placed neatly in a brown box.

“Fine” she answers headed straight for the box not interested in even talking to him after what you told her about him.

“And y/n?” He asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes, hoping to at least get an update on your whereabouts and how you were doing after all this time.

“She’s fine is this all there is?” Your mother responds quick leaving no room for any other questions.

He feels his body relax. Just knowing you’re doing okay made him feel better. “Y-yes, I’m glad to hear you’re both doing well.” he offers a smile that doesn’t even get noticed. “Would you like me to take that to the car f-“

“I have it, thank you, heeseung.” She used his real name, something she never did after you and him started officially dating, and it hurt his heart being called that by her.

She walked to the exit, seeing her own way out. “By-“The door gets all but slammed in his face, making him feel even worse about what he’s done to you and, evidently, your family as well.

He locks his door, shuffles back into his bedroom, lying on your side of the bed, and pulls out his phone so he can send you yet another voicemail.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[mggssocks]

The Eighth

the eighth masterlist

pairing: Fem!Kook!Reader x Rafe Cameron

cw: a little nsfw smut but it's quick. that's it.

a/n: last chapter got so much love my heart is exploding so much rn. here's my appreciation: an extra long chapter five days before it was supposed to drop. lol thanks again.

“What?!” Becca’s voice shrieks through your phone speaker, nearly making you drop the blouse in your hand. You’re halfway through unpacking your suitcase- this time, for good.

“I just don’t see any point in going back to the OBX,” you say, folding the blouse and placing it into the drawer like it’s the final brick in a new chapter. “I mean… besides you. But even then, you’re about to start your whole family-business journey. I’d just be a distraction.”

“No, you wouldn’t! Stop saying that,” she argues. “And what about my birthday? You promised you’d help me set up.”

You sigh and sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be back this week to grab the rest of my stuff. And obviously I’ll be there for your birthday. But after that… it just doesn’t make sense to move back. My future’s here. You know it is.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end before she groans. “You’re the worst. But I love you, so I’m letting it slide.”

A small laugh slips from you. “Fair enough.”

“You’re gone. Marie’s going back to Charleston once summer’s over…”

“She lives in Charleston,” you tease. “Did you forget?”

“I know,” she says defensively. “But now I won’t have any real friends around.”

“Since when are you and Marie so close?” Your brows lift in amusement, even though she can’t see you.

“We’ve… gotten to know each other,” Becca answers carefully, her tone softer, layered.

There’s a pause -just a second too long- but you let it go.

“Well, at least thank you for finally taking my advice,” you say, flipping through the hangers in your closet. “Anyway, I gotta go. Celeste and I are heading to the spa.”

“Ohhh, remember when we used to go to the spa together?” Becca replies in a playfully jealous voice. There’s still a hint of something real beneath the teasing.

“Bye, Becca,” you say with a smile, shaking your head.

“Bye, Y/N. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hang up and sit back for a moment, looking around the room. Your new room. For the first time, the thought of not going back doesn’t make your stomach drop. It just feels… like the beginning.

-

Fashion shows. Board meetings. Watching designers drape, pin, and sketch. It all flies by in a blur of espresso, stilettos, and showroom lighting. Before you know it, it’s Thursday evening, and your driver is pulling up in front of your parents’ house.

You step out of the car, instinctively glancing at Tannyhill across the lawn. Same wraparound porch. Same house you used to sneak out of just to crawl into his bed.Now it just feels… far away. Like it belonged to a different version of you.

“Thank you,” you murmur as the chauffeur shuts the car door behind you.

The house is quiet when you enter. Too quiet. The type of silence that tells you no one’s home- and for once, you’re grateful.

You don’t have the patience for your mother’s smug “I told you so” about how much you enjoyed your New York experience.

You head upstairs and start packing two more suitcases. and when you go to look for your sewing kit, you remember exactly where it’s at and your heart sinks. You’re folding dresses when the sound of raucous laughter and revving engines cuts through the calm.

You pause. Walk to the balcony.

The street is packed. People line the sidewalk with their phones out, filming and laughing. A car crawls in reverse down the road, someone splayed dramatically across the hood, exhaling a bong rip toward the sky like it’s a music video.

You don’t need to guess whose party it is. Typical Rafe.

You roll your eyes, grab your hoodie, slip into your shoes, and snatch your keys. You’re not doing this for him. You just need your sewing kit. Nothing more.

You drive the short distance. Park a few houses down, out of sight. The place is chaos. Drunken twenty-somethings everywhere- red cups in hand, bass shaking the ground.

Children, you think to yourself, and you’re caught off guard by the word. Just a couple months ago, you were them.

Now? You feel different. Older, somehow. Maybe not wiser- but definitely not the girl who used to show up at these parties.

You slip through the front lawn, head down, hoodie up. You move like muscle memory through the crowd, avoiding faces, avoiding his face.

You know exactly where your kit is. In the sitting room. The one where you told each other you loved one another for the first time.

The memory stings, but you keep moving.

You round a hallway corner—and pause. There he is.

Rafe.

He’s laughing with some guy, drink in hand, head thrown back. Effortlessly magnetic. You duck your head and detour down another hallway, heart hammering.

In the sitting room, your kit is still there. Tucked in the corner behind the couch. Moved, definitely. He didn’t throw it out, though. He kept it. You spot the mannequin with the fabric still pinned in place. Part of you considers taking the whole thing, but it’s too bulky, too obvious. You rip the fabric off, fold it quickly-

“Hey, don’t touch my shit-”

You freeze. You know that voice. You turn slowly. There he is.

Rafe Cameron.

Arm draped casually around Sofia’s shoulder. Her expression shifts the moment she sees you.  She steps slightly out of his hold, discomfort flashing across her face.

His entire demeanor changes. The laughter’s gone. His eyes soften, like he didn’t expect to see you again, especially here.

You feel your throat tighten, but you won’t let yourself cry. Not in front of him.

You hold up the sewing kit wordlessly, forcing out a quiet explanation.

“I left this.” You don’t meet his eyes.

He blinks. Swallows. “Oh.” It’s all he says.

The weight of the summer sits heavy between you. He doesn’t move. Neither do you.

“I’m gonna-” you start, voice barely above a whisper.

But then you stop. There’s nothing left to say.

You push past him before he can see you fall apart, the sewing kit clutched tight in your arms like it might hold you together.

You move through the crowd. Down the porch stairs. Out of the noise.

You toss your things in the back seat, climb behind the wheel, and slam the door shut. You don’t know where you’re going. Just that it’s anywhere but here.

Somehow, you end up at the marsh- the one Rafe brought you to that first night. The place where everything started, when the both of you stopped pretending and actually saw each other for the first time.

Now, your knees are pressed tight to your chest, your arms wrapped around them, staring blankly at the dark water stretching in front of you. The marsh is quiet, save for the occasional chirp or rustle in the trees, but all you hear is static in your own head. A buzzing from the weight of it all crashing down on you.

Life is moving too fast. Too much.

And you’ve been trying to outrun it since the second you landed in New York.

That phone call. Her voice answering his phone. You shoved it so far down in your brain it doesn’t even feel real anymore. Probably some sort of trauma response. But seeing him tonight -really seeing him- with her?

His arm draped so effortlessly around Sofia, like it belonged there. Like the last two and a half months never happened. Like you didn’t say “I love you” in that exact same room where he stood tonight, letting another girl anchor herself to him like she knew him better than you ever could. It burns.

Your chest aches as the tears start to come. Slow at first, and then all at once. The memories, the pain, the humiliation. It feels like mourning a life that barely even had time to exist.

And then—

“You’re here.”

You don’t need to turn around to know who it is. It slices through the silence, warm and familiar, even now.

But still- you do. You turn. And there he is.

Buzzed hair damp, probably from the humidity or maybe the beginnings of rain. Eyes glassy. Breath uneven. His party-boy sheen is gone. It’s just him, stripped down in the moonlight.

You look away quickly, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, praying the darkness hides the wreckage on your face.

“Yeah… I am,” you say, trying to sound indifferent. You fail.

He steps closer. “Mind if I sit?” he asks, nodding toward the spot beside you.

You barely respond, just shift slightly to make room.

A flash of lightning splits the sky above, casting everything in sharp silver for half a second. A warning, maybe. Or a sign.

He settles beside you. The space between you is small, but it feels like miles.

“I didn’t expect you to come back,” he says, voice low, eyes locked on the water like it’s safer to look at something else.

You let out a hollow laugh. “I’m not really back. Just picking up some more stuff.” You pause. “So… yeah. I guess I made up my mind.”

He turns to say something, but before he can-

“You moved on pretty fast,” you say, finally meeting his gaze.

He blinks. “I’m not moved on.” His voice sharpens. Defensive. “You think I wanted this?”

“You didn’t not want it,” you fire back. “You gave up, Rafe. You didn’t fight for me, you didn’t call, you didn’t even text. You let Sofia answer your phone like nothing between us even mattered.”

He stands now, breathing harder. “You think that’s what this is? Me moving on? I was drunk. She picked up my phone because I was too messed up to know where it even was.”

“Don’t,” you say, standing too. “Don’t blame the alcohol or the party or anything else. You ended things. You pushed me away. You told me if I left, we were done. So I left.”

“And that was a mistake,” he mutters.

“Yeah, no shit.”

The thunder rumbles in the distance. Rain starts. Light at first. Barely more than a drizzle.

“You said you loved me,” you say quietly, eyes on his. “If you did -really, truly did- you wouldn’t have ended things the way you did.”

His eyes shimmer, but he doesn’t let the tears fall. Not yet. “I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

“I wanted you.” Your voice cracks. “I would’ve fought for us. You were just… too scared to fight with me.”

Silence. The kind that feels loud. And then it starts pouring. A heavy, curtain-like rain that soaks your hoodie and your short and makes the whole world blur around the edges. You’re crying again. But you don’t care.

You step closer. “You say you love me, Rafe, but when it mattered- you shut down. You ran. You always run. So no. I don’t believe you ever loved me. I don’t think you ever could.”

He’s silent. Frozen. Staring at you like he wants to say everything but can’t find the words.

You scoff through your tears. “That’s what I thought.”

You turn, soaked, heartbroken, shaking..but then-

His hand wraps around your wrist. Firm. Certain.

“Wait,” he breathes, spinning you around so fast your chest bumps his.

Your breath catches.

His voice drops, rough and shaking. “What do you think about this?”

And then- He kisses you. Not soft. Not sweet.

It’s everything. Angry. Desperate. Like he’s trying to prove every word he couldn’t say. And for a moment, the rain, the hurt, the heartbreak- It all stops.

You’re soaked- and not just from the rain.

The moment your back hits the leather seat of Rafe’s car, it’s clear where this is going. His mouth crashes against yours, urgent and unrelenting. There are no words. None needed. You’ve both already said too much, and yet not nearly enough.

His hands roam under your soaked hoodie, gripping your waist, peeling the fabric off like he’s starving for you. Your tank top follows, tossed somewhere into the front seat. And then it’s him- his shirt, his jeans, every barrier between you stripped away until all that’s left is skin and heat and rain-slicked desperation.

You don’t even remember climbing into the back seat. Maybe he pulled you. Maybe you pulled him. But it doesn’t matter now. His body is between your legs, his glistening tip sliding slowly along your entrance, teasing you, taunting you. Your hands brush against in his damp hair as he trails kisses down your neck, grazing your collarbone, biting gently at the shell of your ear.

And then-

He thrusts into you.

A broken moan escapes you both, loud and raw. He holds you closer than he ever has during sex- like he’s trying to crawl inside you, like he’s trying to stay. His thrusts are deep, slow, and intentional, hips grinding against yours with every movement. It’s not just sex- it’s something else entirely. Something heavier. More dangerous. More real.

Your lips find his again, mouths moving in sync, tasting each other through moans and shallow breaths.

Rain drums hard against the roof of the car, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the sounds between you. The wet slap of skin, the soft gasps, the cries of pleasure. Steam fogs the windows, wrapping you both in this cocoon of lust and love and unspoken heartbreak.

“Rafe,” you whimper, breath shaky.

He hears you this time. “I’m here, baby,” he breathes against your lips, biting gently on your lower one, then trailing kisses along your jawline.

Your head falls back. Eyes roll. One hand braces against the fogged window, streaking down with condensation. The car rocks beneath you.

“I’m so close,” you cry out, voice trembling. You pull him closer, your lips finding his in a messy, desperate kiss.

“Cum for me,” he growls, holding your face in one hand. “Cum all over my dick, pretty girl. Show me how much you missed me.”

He laces his fingers through yours, grounding you, anchoring you.

“That’s it -right there-” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m cumming-”

Your thighs clamp around his hips, and your body goes rigid- completely still as the orgasm rips through you. White-hot. Paralyzing. Perfect.

“Oh, baby,” he moans into your neck. His thrusts grow sloppier, more frantic. He’s close. So close.

And then he stills. A soft curse under his breath, followed by a deep, guttural moan as he spills inside you, hands gripping you like he never wants to let go.

The only sound now is your breathing. Heavy. Labored. Quiet.

You both move slowly, silently, gathering your clothes in the dim light, pulling them back on like armor. No words exchanged. Not yet.

You clear your throat, adjusting your hoodie. “I should get going,” you murmur, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror, not on him.

He nods and opens the car door, stepping into the wet gravel. He reaches a hand out to help you down, knowing your knees are shot. You take it. His touch still lingers when you let go.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, walking with you to your car parked nearby. The rain has lightened, but the world still feels heavy.

Thank God you’d put the top up on the convertible earlier.

He opens the door for you. You slip in. He doesn’t close it right away. Instead, he leans against the window frame, chin resting on crossed arms, staring at you like he’s memorizing your face.

“I love you,” he says softly.

It almost breaks you. You want to melt into him. You want to say take me with you or come with me. You want the whole fairy tale. But this isn’t a story with a perfect ending. Not tonight. So instead, you give him a small, pained nod.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

He steps back as you start the engine. But just before you shift into gear-

“Hey,” he says again, and you look up. His eyes are pleading. “Promise me you’ll keep in touch.”

You pause. The words claw at your throat. You wish you could say yes. God, you want to say yes. But you know better.

“I can’t,” you say truthfully.

And then you’re pulling away.

You drive off into the night, the sound of gravel crunching beneath your tires. Tears blur your vision, but you don’t stop.

Not this time.

- 

The familiar weight of landing in New York hits your chest the second the plane touches down- though this time, it doesn’t feel like a trip. It feels like a turning point. You stare blankly out the window as the chauffeur navigates through the familiar rush of yellow cabs and honking horns, the skyline rising in front of you like it’s daring you to start over.

When you arrive at Celeste’s building, the doorman greets you by name this time. The little things -like that- make it feel real. Permanent.

You step into the penthouse, expecting to feel overwhelmed, but instead, it’s like the city has exhaled just for you. Celeste is, as always, dressed like she’s about to be photographed for Vogue- today in tailored wide-leg trousers and a silk blouse, sorting through a stack of mail with a glass of green juice in hand. She glances up as the door clicks shut behind you and offers you that signature smirk of hers. Knowing. Effortless.

“Hey, you,” she says, setting the mail aside, fully turning her attention to you. “Back in the city for good?”

You try to sound upbeat. Normal. Like your heart isn’t still bruised. “Hey. Yeah, looks like it.”

You nod once, tight and unsure, like saying it out loud might make it more real. Celeste reads you like a book but doesn’t push. Instead, she lights up like she’s been waiting for this moment.

“I actually have a little something for you,” she says, opening a drawer and pulling out a small black box.

Your brows lift. “What’s this for?”

“Just open it,” she insists with a twinkle in her eye.

You walk over, the heels of your boots clicking against the marble, and open the box. Inside, nestled in soft velvet, is a gleaming silver key.

You blink. “A… key?”

“To your own apartment!” she grins, practically bouncing.

You blink again, this time slower. “Wait, seriously?”

“Dead serious.”

You laugh, stunned. “Is this your really polite way of kicking me out?”

She gasps playfully. “Never! I just figured you’d feel more creatively free in your own space. You’re building something. You deserve to do it in your own place.”

You look at the key again. It shines like a new beginning. “When do I move in?”

“Well, I’ve got to get to the studio for a shoot, but this weekend for sure. Oh! And we are definitely going furniture shopping.”

-

The weekend blurs into a frenzy of shopping for fabrics and furniture, installing bookshelves, choosing wall art, and figuring out if you’re a “scented candle girl” or not (you decide you are). The apartment is high above the chaos of the city- quiet, sunlit, and breathtaking. A place that feels like yours. You barely have time to think about Rafe. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about you.

Chelsea texts to say Rafe stopped by. Brought flowers. A little box. A note. You promise to respond. But you don’t. You tell yourself you’re busy. The truth is, you’re scared of what answering him might do to the carefully built walls around your new world.

Nights are harder. You unpack your OBX things alone, piece by piece, item by item. A hoodie. A half-full sketchbook. The sewing kit. The mannequin.

You sit on the edge of your bed at 1:03 a.m., phone in hand, his contact open. You think of calling.

But instead, you imagine him asleep. At Tannyhill. Or not asleep at all. Maybe with someone else. Either way, you lock your phone and press it to your chest.

-

The weeks slip by like water- fashion meetings, showroom launches, networking brunches. You’re productive. Pulled together. Floating between espresso machines and editorial boards like you’ve been doing it your whole life. There are flashes where you feel like yourself again. Then there are moments where you wonder if you’ve just gotten really good at pretending.

You’re wandering the halls of the Met one late afternoon, alone, trying to trigger some spark of inspiration for your next collection. You linger in front of a massive piece that feels too abstract to be brilliant but too deliberate to be random.

“This is stupid, right?” The voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

You glance to your side. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, tousled dark hair and that New York City jawline. He’s beautiful. Effortlessly so.

You raise a brow. “Stupid’s a strong word for a piece that’s hanging in the Met.”

He grins. “Alright, pretentious, then.”

You cross your arms, turning slightly toward him. “It’s commentary on chaos versus intention. Maybe it’s not meant to be pretty. Maybe it’s just honest.”

His smile deepens. “Okay, art school. I stand corrected.”

You laugh -actually laugh- and it surprises you. The tension in your chest loosens a little.

“I’m Owen,” he says, offering a hand. “Photographer. Born and raised here. Are you one of those impossibly cool transplants?”

You take his hand. “Y/N. Designer. Recently relocated. And yes, impossibly cool.”

He tilts his head toward the museum café. “Can I buy you a coffee to make up for calling your art stupid?”

You hesitate, glancing down at your phone. “I actually have to be somewhere in a few. But… I wouldn’t mind keeping the debate going sometime.”

He grins again, slower this time. “You’re smooth.”

You shrug. “I’ve been told.”

He pulls out his phone and opens a new contact. “Then let’s make it official. Number?”

You trade phones and type in your info. A moment later, your phone buzzes with a text.

[Unknown]: I owe you a latte and a second opinion on pretentious modern art.

You glance up at him with a soft smile. “Looking forward to it.”

You smile softly as you step back out into the golden hush of early evening. The sidewalk is bustling. The city smells like roasted peanuts and ambition. But as you make your way through the crowd, your mind drifts.

You think of Rafe.

You shake your head and try to focus on the present- the sound of car horns, the art still swimming in your head, Owen’s text lighting up your phone.

But the ache? It lingers anyway. Like a bruise in a place only you can feel.

-

The city glows below, windows lit like stars scattered across the skyline. You’re tucked up at your desk by the window, sketchpad in front of you, a soft pencil dragging across the paper as you bring a new design to life. Your Mac is on in front of you, FaceTime connected to Becca, who’s lying across her massive bed back in the OBX.

“I swear to God,” she says, mid-rant, “if my mother tries to set me up with another guy who ‘owns his own landscaping business,’ I’m committing to girls only. I’m done.”

You grin without looking up. “So girls only now?”

“Girls only,” she confirms, sighing dramatically and rolling onto her back. “Men are exhausting.”

At that moment, both your phone and Mac ding. Instinctively, your eyes lift to your Mac screen.

Unknown Number: You doing anything tomorrow night?

You pause, blinking. You don’t recognize the number, but you already know. A smirk tugs at 

your lips as you pick up your phone and type back:

You: I’m sorry… who is this?

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Becca’s voice cuts in, amused.

Your eyes flick back to the screen just as the reply comes in.

Unknown: You’ve gotta be kidding me. Camera guy? Bad at reading art? Does any of that ring a bell? You schooled me earlier today on it.

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head.

“Y/N!” Becca’s calling again, waving a hand in front of her camera.

You type quickly:

You: Ohhh. Yeah, you were pretty bad at reading art.

“Okay, spill,” Becca says, sitting up and propping her phone on her bed. “Who is he?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Just this guy I met earlier today at the Met. I was looking at one of the new installations and he came up and started talking trash about it. I couldn’t not correct him.”

Becca gasps. “You schooled a stranger?”

“I couldn’t help myself.” You grin as another message pops up:

Unknown (now saved as Owen): So???

You: ‘So’ what?

“What’s his name?” Becca asks, practically bouncing.

“Owen,” you say, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling. Not on purpose- just instinct.

“Owennn,” Becca drawls teasingly. “I like that. Is he cute?”

“He’s actually really cute,” you admit. “And a photographer.”

“Oooh, artsy. That’s very New York of you.”

Owen: You doing anything tomorrow night?

You: Most likely not doing anything. What’s up?

Owen: A friend of mine is hosting an art exhibition. You should come.

You raise an eyebrow at your phone.

Becca watches you with narrowed eyes. “So is Rafe just… gone? Like, totally out of the picture now?”

You pause, your pencil hovering above the sketchpad. “I don’t know,” you say with a shrug. “I mean… what picture is there to be in? He ended it.”

Becca makes a face, then hesitates.

“What?” you ask.

“Speaking of him,” she says slowly, “he won’t stop harassing me about you.”

Your heart dips unexpectedly. “What?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should even tell you or if you wanted to hear it. But he keeps texting, asking how you’re doing, if I’ve heard from you. He’s… kind of a wreck.”

You don’t know what to say. Your chest tightens but you quickly sit up straighter, clearing your throat. “I don’t know what he expects,” you say. “He made his choice. And I made mine.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“I just thought you should know,” Becca says gently. “I didn’t want to keep it from you.”

You nod, eyes flicking back to your phone. Owen’s message is still glowing.

Owen: It’s in SoHo. Chill crowd, I promise. Come have fun.

You press your lips together, then type:

You: Okay. I’m in.

Becca catches the subtle shift in your mood but doesn’t press.

“Owen better be worth it,” she teases instead.

You smirk and shake your head, looking back down at your sketchpad. “I’m just trying to make friends.”

-

You step into the warehouse, the scent of paint and champagne mingling in the air. The space is dimly lit with warm amber bulbs that hang loosely from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the exposed brick walls and concrete floors. Occasional bursts of flash from both professional cameras and iPhones flicker through the room like fireflies.

Clusters of people sip from slender champagne flutes and laugh in that low, throaty way that only people born into wealth seem to perfect. At a glance, you could almost believe they’re just normal twenty-somethings living the starving artist dream. But it only takes a few seconds to tell- these aren’t broke New Yorkers chasing artistry. These are the children of CEOs and hedge fund managers, reveling in the aesthetic of struggle like it’s performance art.

You shift slightly in your powder blue backless halter top and tailored black capris that kiss just below your knees. The outfit is simple, elevated, and perfect for the fading end-of-summer warmth. And yet, you feel entirely out of place. You can feel the stares, subtle but unmistakable, trailing you like perfume as you walk further into the gallery.

You pull out your phone.

You: I’m here. Where are you?

As you lower your phone, your eyes scan the artwork- colorful, chaotic, interesting in a raw kind of way. You pause in front of one, arms crossed as you tilt your head thoughtfully.

Then you hear it- an enthusiastic voice floating across the room.

“Thank you! Thank you so much for coming! You guys are amazing!”

You glance toward the source and spot her. She’s moving from group to group like sunlight, radiating ease. She’s got blonde hair styled in a messy ponytail tied with a vintage scarf, a pale pink off-the-shoulder t-shirt tucked into white bloomer shorts, and beat-up, hand-drawn Converse covered in doodles and signatures. She looks like Gigi Hadid if Gigi had a passion for art school critiques and lavender incense.

She sweeps her bangs out of her eyes and makes direct eye contact with you, her bright smile catching you a little off guard.

“Well, I know I haven’t seen you before,” she says, walking right up to you.

You offer a polite smile and extend your hand. “Hi, I’m-”

“Oh, sorry- I’ve got this germ thing.” Still, she takes your index finger between hers in a loose little shake that somehow feels more genuine than any firm handshake you’ve had. You laugh.

“-Y/N,” you finish.

“Noel,” she replies, her cheekbones practically casting shadows in the moody lighting. “Thanks for coming to my exhibit. I seriously appreciate it.”

“Y/N!” a voice calls from behind you.

You turn and spot Owen, striding over in a white long-sleeve layered under a black T-shirt, well-worn jeans, and his camera slung around his neck. He looks like he just walked off a ‘cool guy at an indie film festival’ Pinterest board.

“Ah, I see you’ve met Noel,” he says.

“I have,” you smile, glancing between them.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Noel asks, pointing between the two of you with a curious look.

“Barely,” you tease.

Owen clutches his chest like you’ve wounded him. “Wow. That’s bestie to you.”

You laugh -really laugh- and feel some of your nerves melt away.

“We met at the Met yesterday,” you explain.

“She schooled me on art,” Owen adds with a shrug.

“I like you already.” Noel loops her arm through yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

You’re surprised- but not unwelcome to it.

“Wait, wait- Noel, are you cheating on me already?” another voice rings out.

You turn to see a tall, stunning girl walk over. She looks like a young Kimora Lee Simmons- statuesque, glam without trying, dressed in sleek trousers and a cropped blazer with a diamond tennis bracelet that sparkles every time she moves. Her presence is commanding in that effortless New York way.

“Don’t pay her any mind,” Noel says with a grin, squeezing your arm lightly.

“Hi,” the girl says to you with a slow smile, already assessing your vibe with ease.

“Y/N, this is Allegra, my roommate. Allegra, Y/N, Owen’s friend,” Noel says. 

Allegra narrows her eyes at you, then points a manicured finger in your direction. “Wait a second… you’re the girl who moved in at Lucent apartments, aren’t you?”

You blink. “Um- yeah, I guess I am.”

“I knew you looked familiar. I saw you coming in with Celeste the other day. She’s basically Manhattan royalty, by the way.” Allegra smirks. “Nice to finally meet our mystery neighbor.”

You nod with a nervous smile, but she’s already waving it off like she’s claimed you as one of her own.

The rest of the night becomes a blur of laughter, art debates, and light gossip. You find yourself trailing after the trio like a lost puppy- Noel’s bright warmth, Owen’s quiet charm, and Allegra’s bold confidence make it easy to fall into step. Somewhere between sips of rosé and Noel dragging you to see her favorite piece (“it was inspired by a dream I had after eating expired cheese”), you realize something surprising.

You could really see yourself being friends with them. Allegra reminded you so much of Becca’s attitude and Noel had that same sweetness of Marie.

-

“Do you ladies need me to walk you up?” Owen asks as the four of you step out of the cab in front of your building. The city hums quietly around you, late-night traffic whispering in the distance. He’d been sweet enough to cover the ride, despite Allegra’s half-hearted protests.

Noel raises an eyebrow, a few stray paintbrushes and a folded sketch in her hand. “What, to like… protect us?”

Owen shrugs. “Well… yeah.”

Noel bursts out laughing. “What are you gonna do? Blind someone with the flash of your camera?”

Allegra tosses her hair over one shoulder, smirking. “Or maybe hit them with an aggressively artistic critique?”

The two of them crack up and you stifle your own laugh, trying not to completely gang up on him- though the image was funny. Still, there’s something endearing about his concern.

“We got it,” Allegra says with a wink as she slips her arm through yours, leading you and Noel toward the front entrance.

“Bye,” Owen calls, one hand in his pocket and the other lifting into a lazy wave.

“Byeeee!” Noel chimes back, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet street. You glance over your shoulder and smile, waving with the hand not tangled up in Allegra’s.

The elevator ride up is slow and golden-lit. Allegra leans casually against the mirrored wall, like she’s in a Vogue street-style spread without even trying.

“So,” she starts, eyeing you with genuine interest, “where are you from?”

“Outer Banks. North Carolina,” you reply, shifting your weight slightly.

Noel perks up. “Is that like… beachy?”

You smile at her phrasing. “Yeah, it’s a string of barrier islands off the coast. Small town. Lots of boats. Lots of gossip.”

Allegra hums. “Sounds like an Instagram dream but also my personal nightmare.”

The elevator dings softly and the doors glide open.

“You guys from here?” you ask, stepping out into the hallway.

“Born and raised,” Noel says proudly, tucking her brushes into her tote. “Well, technically Westchester, but still. Close enough.”

“I’m from L.A. Originally,” Allegra says. “Moved here at eighteen to kickstart my modeling career. Got bored of having palm trees in every picture.”

You knew it -her bone structure, that effortless confidence- she had to be a model.

As you approach your door, Noel strides across the hallway and grabs the handle of the one directly across from yours. She stops suddenly and gasps.

“No way!” Her voice is way too loud for nearly two in the morning.

Allegra quickly shushes her with a finger to her lips. “Noel,” she hisses. “It’s 1:47 AM.”

Noel ignores her, spinning back to face you. “You live here?”

You nod, slightly amused. “Moved in a few weeks ago.”

Allegra’s eyes widen slightly. “Small world.”

“Astoundingly small,” Noel says in a much more hushed tone. Without warning, she wraps you in a tight, excited hug. “We’re literally neighbors!”

Allegra raises an eyebrow and gives you a more reserved, almost too cool hug- the kind where her arms barely touch you but still somehow feel polite.

“Well,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “welcome to the building. And thanks for showing up for the art show. That meant a lot to her.”

“Of course. Thanks for kind of adopting me for the night.” You grin, unlocking your front door.

The three of you exchange quiet goodbyes before you slip inside and click the door shut behind you.

The heels come off first.

You lean against the wall for a second, the silence of your apartment washing over you like a long exhale. Then you smile -genuinely, softly- as you realize that for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like an outsider.

You feel… home.

-

It’s officially one week before the first day of fall- and just two weeks before you’ll have to head back to the Outer Banks. You’re trying not to think about that too hard. For now, you’re tucked inside a thrift store in the East Village with Allegra and Noel, weaving through tightly packed racks of vintage coats and worn-in leather jackets.

You tug on a long camel trench and examine yourself in the dusty mirror near the corner.

“You’re giving cool-mom-at-school-dropoff,” Noel comments, deadpan as ever, while she flips through a rack of oversized corduroy blazers.

“She needs something edgier,” Allegra declares, sweeping over with a ridiculous faux-fur bucket hat that looks like it crawled out of a 90s music video. She plops it on your head without warning. The three of you burst into laughter as you turn to face the mirror, your reflection looking like someone who accidentally time-traveled from a Beastie Boys tour.

Then your phone starts ringing. Becca. She’s FaceTiming you.

You quickly swipe to answer, tugging the bucket hat off your head. “Hey, Becs!”

“Hey,” she replies, slightly breathless. Her phone is propped up on a treadmill at the gym- she’s mid incline walk, cheeks pink, hair up. “Where are you?”

“Thrift store. Jacket shopping. It’s about to get cold and I’m wildly unprepared,” you say, brushing a lint-covered sleeve off your shoulder as Noel places another tragic-looking hat on your head, sending both girls into another fit of giggles.

Becca squints. “A thrift store? In New York?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t start.”

“I mean, I get the ones in Kildare. They’re basically curated. But New York City thrift stores? That’s… bold.”

Allegra immediately grabs your wrist and flips the camera so it faces her.

“It’s a New York thing,” she says smoothly, flashing Becca a perfectly casual smirk. “You wouldn’t understand.”

There’s no venom in her tone, but it still makes your stomach twist slightly.

Becca presses her lips together, raising her eyebrows like she’s biting back an opinion. You know her well enough to read her thoughts before she says them. So before any passive-aggressive digs can happen, you swipe the camera back to your face.

“Anyway,” Becca says, changing the subject. “Just calling to remind you my birthday is in exactly two weeks.”

“I know, Becca,” you say with a smile, balancing your phone on top of the shelf of racks as you flick through a rack of quilted jackets. “I don’t need reminders for things I’d never forget. I already bought my ticket- I’ll be there two days early to help set up.”

“Okay, well… that’s the other thing,” she says, tone dropping. Her pace on the treadmill slows.

You freeze a little, glancing up at Allegra and Noel, now throwing what they’ve dubbed “ugly hats” at each other across the aisle. One lands on the floor and earns them a death glare from the teenage employee behind the counter.

“What ‘other thing’?” you ask cautiously.

“Rafe is also helping.”

You blink. “I’m sorry… in what world is Rafe Cameron helping set up for your party? And why?”

Becca exhales. “Apparently, he and Beau are friends again. I don’t know all the details. But if you ask me? He’s using Beau to get to me to get to you. Classic Rafe move.”

You sigh deeply, head tilting back slightly as you stare at the ugly fluorescent lights above.

“Anything else I should know before I book a hotel instead of staying with you?”

Becca hesitates. “Yeah… but I’ll save it for when you get here.”

“Great,” you mutter, sarcasm clear. You say your goodbyes, and after the call ends, you slip your phone into your pocket, shoulders heavy.

“So…” Noel starts, her voice light and curious. “Who’s Rafe?”

“And seriously, what kind of name is that?” Allegra adds, tossing a vintage wool beret back onto the hat rack.

You exhale slowly, stepping toward the exit. “He’s my ex. And I honestly don’t know.”

Allegra and Noel exchange a look as the three of you step back out onto the sidewalk, empty-handed.

“He’s gonna be at your friend’s birthday?” Noel asks, already adjusting her oversized denim jacket.

“Apparently,” you say with a tight, exhausted smile. Just the thought of seeing Rafe again has your stomach in knots. Not because you miss him -though you do, in ways you haven’t admitted- but because you’re not ready to answer the question of why you haven’t responded to him. Why you’ve left all his texts unread. Why you’ve made it so easy for him to believe you’ve moved on.

“You need a pick-me-up,” Allegra says, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Sushi? I know a place in SoHo. It’s low-key but their spicy tuna rolls are transcendent.”

You nod quickly, grateful for the change of topic. “Yes. God, yes.”

The three of you link arms, laughter trailing behind you as you disappear into the golden hour glow of the Lower East Side, pretending -for now- that your past wasn’t about to catch up with you in two weeks.

-

Your stomach twists as you turn into the long, curved driveway of Becca’s house, the gravel crunching beneath your tires like it’s warning you to turn back. Familiarity should bring comfort, but today it just heightens your nerves.

You don’t see Rafe’s black SUV anywhere- your eyes scan the area twice just to be sure. But there is a new, sleek Porsche parked off to the side. You can’t tell if it’s his or Beau’s. It could belong to either of them, and honestly, that uncertainty only makes your anxiety worse.

You kill the engine and sit for a second, hands still on the wheel. Just breathe.

Grabbing your duffle bag from the back seat, you walk up to the house. You don’t bother ringing the doorbell. Her parents are out of town, conveniently avoiding the chaos of their daughter’s birthday weekend. Classic. Still, even after all these years of friendship, they never quite warmed up to the idea of you letting yourself in like this was your second home. Maybe it was a wealth thing- boundaries and status, even among best friends.

The front door clicks shut behind you, muffling the sounds of muffled music and distant voices. You head straight down the hall, past the grand staircase, through the foyer lined with glossy family portraits, and toward Becca’s favorite part of the house- the theater room. Well, favorite aside from her bedroom, which was more like a curated showroom of mood boards and mid-century modern dreams.

As you round the corner, you collide -hard- with a firm, familiar chest. The contact knocks the breath out of you, and your fingers tighten reflexively around your bag strap. You look up. Rafe.

His hair is more buzzed than you remember, and he smells like expensive cologne and laundry detergent and summer. Your throat tightens. For a second, neither of you moves.

“…Hey,” he says, voice low and uncertain. He doesn’t sound surprised you’re here- more like caught off guard by how early.

“Hi,” you say, stepping back quickly like distance will give you composure.

He stares at you, jaw clenching slightly, like he’s holding back words that have been sitting on his tongue for weeks.

“Rafe! Can you grab more waters for the cooler?” Becca calls from inside the theater room, her voice cheerful and oblivious to the sudden tension in the hallway.

You take the moment to sidestep around him, not looking up again until you’re safely inside the room. And when you do glance back -just for a second- he’s still standing there. Still watching you. Like he hasn’t seen you in months. Like he’s afraid to blink. And just like that, your heartbeat kicks up again.

You hate how much it still affects you.

“Becs!” you shout, dropping your duffle bag to the floor as you step into the theater room.

Becca is halfway up a ladder, taping a curly string of party décor to the ceiling. She looks down at you and beams.

“Y/N!”

She doesn’t even think- she jumps from the ladder without a second thought and launches herself at you. You yelp as the two of you tumble backwards, collapsing onto the plush theater chairs in a heap of limbs and laughter.

“Ow!” you cry through a laugh, clinging to her. “Are you trying to kill me before the party even starts?”

“She’s trying to kill herself,” Beau calls from the other side of the room, where he’s fiddling with some laser lights near the stage setup.

“Hush, Botox,” you tease without looking at him.

Becca gasps dramatically but doesn’t snap back- she’s too giddy. She’s hugging you like you’ve been gone for years, not weeks, and you hug her back just as tightly.

Once you’re both upright again, she brushes glitter off her leggings while you catch your breath- only to glance up and freeze.

Rafe’s just walked in, a heavy case of water bottles balanced in his arms. The moment your eyes meet, something sharp twists in your stomach. You drop your gaze just as quickly.

“Over here,” Beau calls, gesturing to the snack bar setup.

Rafe silently detours, dropping to one knee as he begins loading the bottles into the mini fridge. His shoulders are tense, but his gaze flicks up to you more than once as he works.

Beau comes over and throws a one-armed hug around your shoulders. “Glad you made it, trouble.”

You smile, distracted, and glance back toward Rafe before turning your attention to Becca, who’s unplugging the vacuum and wrapping the cord in her arms.

“You could’ve warned me,” you mutter under your breath, lips barely moving as you smile in that painfully fake, we’re-in-front-of-other-people kind of way.

Becca glances at you and mimics the exact same forced smile. “You knew he’d be here.”

“Not this early!” you hiss, still smiling, both of you locked in this weirdly telepathic girl-code exchange of facial expressions and fake grins before you break into real laughter.

“We’re going up to my room,” Becca announces to the guys as she tosses the vacuum cord over her shoulder.

Beau nods. “Cool. We’re ordering pizza- what do you want?”

“Pepperoni, please,” Becca calls back.

“Pi-” you start to say, but Rafe cuts in from behind the counter, not even looking up.

“Pineapple,” he mutters.

Your eyes snap to him.

Beau looks between the two of you, eyebrow raised, clearly clocking the tension.

“Yeahhhh,” Becca says quickly, clapping her hands. “We’re going upstairs now.”

She grabs your wrist and guides you toward the hallway. “Call us when the pizza gets here!” she tosses over her shoulder as you both leave the room, her voice a little too bright, a little too fast.

As soon as the door swings shut behind you, you exhale.

She doesn’t say anything for a few steps. Then: “Well, that wasn’t as awkward as it could’ve been.”

You groan. “It’s barely been two minutes.”

“And look at us- already surviving.”

You bump her shoulder lightly with yours. “We’ll see.”

You and Becca are sitting cross-legged on her bed, knees almost touching, her hands gripping yours like she’s about to deliver life-altering news. She’s got that look on her face- eyebrows pinched, lips pursed, eyes dancing like she’s fighting the urge to burst.

“Becca, you’re scaring me,” you say, narrowing your eyes.

“Just… don’t freak out, okay?” she pleads, squeezing your hands once before pulling hers back to brace herself. Her eyes squeeze shut. “Marie and I slept together,” she blurts, then immediately shoves her fist into her mouth, eyes wide and panicked like she just confessed to murder.

There’s a full five-second delay in your brain. Like a loading sign. Spinning. Spinning.

“Like… slept slept together?” you ask slowly. “Or just… same bed, passed out after a movie…?”

Becca groans. “Slept slept together,” she repeats, cracking her eyes open, waiting for your judgment.

You blink at her. Then again. “Wow,” you finally breathe. “I have so many questions.”

She exhales sharply, half laughing, half still bracing. “Remember when you and Rafe went to breakfast that one morning? And you told us to hang out?”

You nod slowly. “Oh, trust me, I now know exactly what kind of ‘hanging out’ went down. Ew.”

“I was gonna tell you,” she insists, flopping back onto the bed. “That night we were on your balcony? When you were crying and I told you to go after him instead? I had the perfect opening!”

You lean back on your palms, eyes wide. “Wait… is that why you said you were done with guys?”

She blushes instantly. And then bursts into laughter, covering her face with her hands.

You laugh with her, shaking your head. “Oh my god, Becca.”

“I mean… girls are still men, in some ways,” she groans into her hands. “But like, at least this one moisturizes and smells like lavender.”

“I need a minute to recover,” you say, pretending to fan yourself.

The two of you fall into light chatter, laughter trailing into comfort. Eventually, Becca groans and hops off the bed.

“I think I have an eyelash stabbing my retina,” she says dramatically, disappearing into the ensuite bathroom to investigate in the mirror.

Just as she closes the door behind her, there’s a soft knock at Becca’s bedroom door.

“Y/N!” she calls from the bathroom, voice muffled. “Can you grab that?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting it,” you mutter, rolling off the bed. You open the door- and freeze.

Rafe is standing there, a plate in each hand and two bottles of water awkwardly tucked beneath his arm. His eyes unreadable, flicking from your face to somewhere over your shoulder and back again.

You’re surprised. But not really.

“I brought these up… for you guys,” he says, his voice low, like he’s not sure if this is going to earn him a thank you or a door slammed in his face.

Your mouth opens a second before your brain catches up. “Thanks,” you say dryly, reaching for the plates.

He nods, then grabs the water bottles from under his arm and reaches past you to set them down on the dresser near the door. You notice the way his arm brushes yours- probably not by accident.

As you start to close the door, he hesitates. “I, uh-” he points to one of the plates, the one clearly meant for you. “I picked the ham off the pineapple. I know you don’t like it.”

You glance down at the plate. Then back at him. Your walls threaten to slip. “Thanks… again.”

He shrugs, shoving his hands deep into his pockets like it’s the only way to stop himself from saying more.

And then -because of course he can’t help himself- he leans a little closer, that smug half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You always get that look when you’re about to close the door on me,” he murmurs. “Just like you did that night in the rain- right after you let me fuck you in the back of my car.”

Your breath catches. Heat shoots to your cheeks.

Your eyes widen. “Oh my god,” you whisper, scandalized.

Rafe raises both eyebrows innocently, clearly smug.

Without another word, you slam the door in his face- not hard, but not gently either.

From the bathroom, Becca calls, “What was that?!”

You walk back to the bed with the plates and water, cheeks burning. “Rafe being Rafe,” you mutter, flopping down and groaning into the pillows.

Becca pokes her head out from the bathroom, eye red and watery. “Was he shirtless? I feel like that is something he’d do.”

You throw a pillow at her, laughing.

-

You’re in the kitchen flipping pancakes, the warm scent of butter and syrup wafting through the air. You’re dressed in a black bikini, a semi-sheer white sarong tied low on your hips. Your hair is out, natural and untamed, curls soft and framing your face. You hadn’t bothered to style it today- and somehow, that made you feel more like yourself. More like home.

Behind you, Becca dances barefoot around the island, her playlist blasting through the portable speaker as she chops a medley of strawberries, kiwi, and mango into a giant fruit bowl.

“With how loud your music is and how good those pancakes smell, you better be making some for us too,” Beau’s groggy voice cuts through the beat. You turn your head and laugh as he steps into the kitchen, shirtless and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“I’m making damn near the entire box,” you say with a grin. “Trust me, Becs and I aren’t about to eat a dozen pancakes on our own.”

“Speak for yourself,” Becca calls from across the kitchen.

You flip the final batch onto a plate and start assembling them into four neat servings, layering fruit for yourself and Becca and leaving two plates plain.

That’s when Rafe walks in. He’s in a white ribbed tank and low-slung shorts,he clearly just rolled out of bed. Your eyes meet for a brief moment- just long enough to make your heart flutter in spite of yourself.

You quickly pass a plate to Becca. “This one’s for him,” you say under your breath.

She raises an eyebrow but takes it anyway, walking it over to Rafe without a word. Still, when you turn around, you nearly crash into him.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping back.

He steadies the plate in one hand. “Thanks… for the pancakes.”

You nod once. “Yeah… No fruit?”

“Not today,” he says with a shrug, then glances at your plate and back to your face. “You think I should get some?”

The question is simple, but something in the way he asks it makes your stomach tighten. You raise an eyebrow and smile, unsure why it feels like middle school-level flirting all over again.

“You should probably get some,” you say softly.

His grin creeps in slowly. “Do you want me to?”

You bite your lip, trying not to look too amused. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” he repeats, that teasing lilt in his voice now, like he’s enjoying this more than he’ll admit.

You chuckle. “Yeah.”

“I’ll get some just for you.” He’s already reaching for the fruit bowl, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he scoops a generous helping into a smaller bowl. You catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

You take the bowl from him and set it on his plate, your fingers brushing his in the exchange. His gaze lingers for a second longer than it should.

“You look really pretty,” he says suddenly, looking down as he adjusts the bowl next to his pancakes like he’s trying to hide the heat rising to his face.

You freeze for half a second. The compliment lands heavier than you expected.

“Thank you, Rafe,” you say quietly, warmth spreading through your chest and up your neck.

“Y/N!” Becca calls through the sliding door, already stepping out toward the patio with her plate and a drink in hand.

You grab your own plate and cup, your pulse still dancing from the interaction.

“Yeah! I’m coming,” you call back, but your eyes flick back to Rafe one last time before you follow her out. He’s watching you walk away.

And for a moment, it feels like everything -the tension, the history, the attraction- is suspended in that charged space between pancakes and fruit.

You push the door open, the summer air hitting your skin as you step outside, trying to shake the feeling that you’re still carrying Rafe with you. Even out here.

“Tell me you weren’t just in there flirting with him,” Becca says flatly, popping a strawberry into her mouth as she reclines back on the lounge chair beside you.

You roll your eyes, chewing on a bite of pancake. “We were having a normal conversation, like functioning adults. Shocking, I know.”

“Reminder: he broke up with you. Over the phone.” Her tone is calm but edged with just enough sass to land the blow.

You wince and narrow your eyes. “Jesus, Bec. You don’t have to remind me like that.”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugs. “Don’t let him sweet-talk his way back into your life. You’ve come too far for that.”

“I ignored him for weeks after the breakup,” you say, your voice tight. “And that was after we slept together.”

Becca’s head snaps toward you so fast her sunglasses nearly slide off. “Wait… what?”

You freeze, a half-chewed bite of pancake turning to dust in your mouth. “Oh.”

Her brows shoot up. “Did you just say you had sex with him after you broke up?”

You swallow hard and glance away. “Technically, yes.”

She spins on the lounge chair to fully face you, abandoning her plate altogether. “Y/N.”

“Okay, fine,” you groan, pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head. “We did.”

Her mouth drops open in pure betrayal. “When? When the hell did this happen?”

“Shhh!” You reach over and swat her arm, scanning the patio door nervously. “Keep your voice down.”

“Well maybe don’t drop breakup bombshells like that poolside and I wouldn’t have to yell.”

You sigh and tuck your legs underneath you. “It was when I came back to grab more stuff. I wasn’t planning on seeing him- swear. But I went to the marsh to clear my head and… somehow he showed up too.”

Becca raises a brow. “You’re telling me this was a coincidence?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” You shrug, embarrassed. “One minute we’re arguing, the next it’s pouring rain, and we’re in the back of his SUV and he’s-” You pause, waving a hand vaguely. “-doing things.”

Becca blinks. “Okay. First of all? Public, post-breakup sex in a rainstorm? Iconic. That’s some Titanic level drama. Love that for you.”

You smirk in spite of yourself.

“But second of all,” she continues, “how did you not tell me this? I’m your best friend. This is the kind of stuff we live for.”

You groan and sink deeper into your chair. “Because I’ve been trying to forget it happened myself, that’s why.”

“Forget what?” Beau’s voice interrupts as he and Rafe push through the patio door, both holding plates stacked with pancakes.

Your eyes widen. You glance at Becca like please say nothing.

“None of your business,” she says breezily, standing up as she spots the massive wheelbarrow full of bright pool floaties behind them. “What are you two doing?”

Beau sets his plate down on the nearest table. “Blowing up floaties. We got dolphins, flamingos, one of those ridiculous oversized pizza slices-”

“Wanna help?” Rafe asks, looking mostly at you.

Becca doesn’t miss a beat. “Absolutely not.”

You take a long sip from your iced coffee and look away, pretending to suddenly find the trees in Becca’s backyard fascinating. Because if you look at him again, even for a second, you might not be able to keep pretending last time wasn’t unforgettable.

-

You and Becca are waist-deep in the pool, rotating through floaties under the guise of “testing” them. In reality, the boys are doing all the heavy lifting -Beau manning the electric pump, Rafe handling the ones that need manual inflation- while you and Becca lazily drift around, swapping floaters every now and then.

You’re currently slung over a giant yellow banana float like a sleepy panda on a tree branch, arms and legs draped dramatically, your sunglasses hiding the fact that you’re shamefully watching Rafe.

Why did he have to take off his shirt? And why does he look so hot blowing up pool floats? You’re pretty sure no one’s ever had that thought before, but here you are.

The sun reflects off the water, and you feel yourself slowly drifting toward the pool’s edge, still clinging to the banana float and trying not to stare too hard as Rafe finishes with a donut-shaped one.

He walks over to the edge where you’ve floated, shirtless, tan, and looking maddeningly unbothered. His hand wraps around the front tip of the banana float, halting your journey. The water ripples against you.

“Heyyyy,” you whine, startled from your daydream. “I was floating.”

He laughs, low and amused, and plops the donut float into the pool beside you. “Time to switch out,” he says with a smirk, like he’s talking to a child refusing to get off the swing.

“I don’t feel like switching.” The protest barely leaves your mouth before he’s stepping into the pool with zero hesitation, water sloshing around him. In one smooth motion, his arms are around your waist, lifting you like you weigh nothing. You let out a small yelp as he gently drops you into the donut float.

“I would’ve gotten up,” you grumble, adjusting your position. “This is just… a lot. All these float switches? I think my fingers are officially prunes.” You lift a hand for dramatic effect and flop your head back.

“Oh yeah,” Rafe says, climbing out of the water again, his shorts clinging to his legs. He shoots you a playful look over his shoulder. “You’ve definitely got the hardest job here. Lounging in the pool while we blow up thirty inflatables.”

“You forgot the part where I also have to rotate every five minutes so my tan doesn’t get uneven,” you add.

“Tragic,” he calls back, grabbing another deflated float from the pile.

Becca, across the pool on a flamingo float, calls out, “If she complains one more time, throw her 

on the pizza slice and spin her around.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Rafe says with a teasing glance your way, his lips tugging into a familiar smirk- the kind that makes your heart beat faster than you’d like to admit.

You sink a little deeper into the donut float, willing your pulse to chill out.

Because God help you… he’s still got it.

[literalite]

mistki's the land is inhospitable and so are we (2023)!! as edits featuring mine and some of my friends ocs 😁 had a lot of fun with this project... rough explainer of how/why each song corresponds to each character/s under the cut because i love symbolism and talking! sorry it is long

bug like an angel - sapphire

without spoiling too much of her story and arc... sapphire's life is not easy. she's hurt by people she cares for and who care for her, although inadvertently, and in turn hurts people who she cares for and who cared for her, also not by her own volition. it's kind of a terrible truth that you will harm and be harmed by the people you love, even when you and they truly don't want to. it's up to you how much you're willing to take and deal. you can't keep every promise you make and you can't right every wrong. but you have to keep trying anyway. that's sapphire's strength, and the core of her goodness and why i personally consider her one of my favourite ocs. i chose to depict bug like an angel in mitski's more positive interpretation here and in that light i think it works best for saph

buffalo replaced - heiya

well first and foremost the vibes of the song fits heiya perfectly fhgjk but also lyricism and tone... yep. quick breakdown of heiya's background since i doubt i'll ever be able to do it properly she's an interesting character for me because she like a lot of my other characters has lost. everything. she had a wife and a child and they were both killed and she had to leave her home again and again and unlike how some of my others would have taken this she has never flagged in her unwavering dedication to preserving hope. for herself for her people for the future etc etc. which is a very fucking difficult thing to do! the world changes faster than you can keep up with it sometimes but for heiya she will not let herself tire and be swept away in it all. people rely on her. she's a guiding star as much as she is a woman. she's a lover and a fighter and thats what buffalo replaced means to me! so

heaven - vinny and caleb

i feel like of all my oc couples so far they have like. the sweetest most kind of simply mutually trusting dare i say straight forward love. they just love each other so much and thats all. the world could end around them when theyre together and it'd be okay truly. also yeah vinny is ostensibly in heaven now bye angel i feel like this one was pretty self explanatory. me and who WHEN

i don't like my mind - sunny

he just like me fr (said in denji voice) anyways wow ha. unstoppable unending guilt due to past actions that haunt your every waking moment? throwing yourself into any and all distraction just to take your mind off it, filling your time with other shit so that past sin doesnt for once echo in your awful and hollow brain? this song is perfect for sunny honestly just that sentiment also the "please don't take this job from me".... sometimes the coping is worse. you can be proud of something because you can do it better than anyone else even if that thing is terrible

the deal - wolfgang munch by @gunthermunch

Wolfgang Amadeus Munch. umm this will make more sense later on but it still kind of makes sense now i think. he doesn't want to be himself he keeps . leaving and moving and running away from his own memories his own self in reaction to others. if he could pawn it all off he would. if he could be better in an instant without having to feel every agonising second of change he would! but thats not how the world works. or is it. read munch by gunthermunch thats an order

when memories snow - lilian

i feel the older you get the more your past kind of swells up and trails behind you... at least for lilian that is shes very linked to the different versions of the girl/young woman she used to be. for her its a double edged blade, a lot of her own strength is drawn from who she was and what happened to her throughout her life. they haunt her but she's haunting it back in her own way

my love mine all mine - saige, bellona, ari

stares you down okay so usage of this song very much almost verges into spoiler territory but uhm. uhm. starts twitching basically the whole dynamic here is . sometimes when you love you will sacrifice. and while that is usually a good thing sometimes it is not but sometimes it still is. sometimes you pay your dues for love and sometimes someone else has to pay for your love as well. and whether that is worth it to them remains to be seen. but it's all about love still. whether that's a worthy cause is up to you i suppose

the frost - yoshiki and hikaru from hikaru ga shida natsu

fun fact (or not so fun fact since i had it listed as such) this slot was originally meant to be taken up by a gojo/geto edit and while it still works for them frighteningly well i swerved to do another black and white haired doomed gay pairing gfhjkl; i really recommend yall to read hikaru ga shinda natsu/the summer that hikaru died because honestly it speaks for itself! it's SO good i love it so bad

star - ari and luca by @anjitrait

wow these two did not deserve the horrors the narrative (me) slammed down onto their heads. they're kind of the most married of all time to me but like of course under pressure even the strongest most loving of bonds will warp. they've been together for roughly a decade and a half now. they know and love each other as totally as you could possibly imagine. despite it all i am yours, no matter. are we picking up what i'm putting down chat

i'm your man - nayef and sióar by @lucidicer

after the album dropped like at least 3 people swung into my dms with a ?this you?? about this song which. i mean the fucking dogs that start barking halfway through the song. are you kidding me. but anyways sioyef and devotion. sioyef and putting yourself in your lover's hands and looking to them like they are a god. this is super self explanatory. you know

i love me after you - redacted and ophelia

HM.... all i'll say here is that sometimes the homoerotic tension filled high school friendship where both parties have something very wrong with them but in totally different directions can be. scarring. bad. sometimes love just isn't enough when you don't know what you're meant to do with it and when you've lived in survival mode all your life. but that once the dust clears you can scrape yourself off the ground get up keep going and that isn't gonna be the end for you there. or for love, even. sometimes shit just ain't meant to be and thats ok

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

okay I HAVE to seek you out about it JoJo 🙏

I've been having a TERRIBLE brainrot (literally, I can't function normally) about what it'd be like to work in D&D Motorshop or even in the S.S motor shop 😩

I feel like D&D would have a comfortable vibe once they get to know you/reader well, and it probably started because reader applied for a part time job and Draken knew them OR(! My fav storyline so far :3) Draken and you had been friends for some years due to Takemichi and you're struggling to find a part time job to finance university/college. Even if you don't know much about bikes, Draken could be like "its fine, we'll pay you a bit if you wipe the bikes clean, sort customer files and deal with the budget."

I think for S.S Motorshop, either before Shinichiro died or even in an alternate AU where everyone survives but Draken and Inui work there as well/the founding members of black dragon (they have my heart, the cuties) occasionally drop by. Shin would be so kind and gentle I think omg

Anyways, sorry for the rant (and if something doesn't make sense I apologise, I'm typing this half asleep at 3 in the morning) :,) I'm DYING to hear your thoughts on what working with/for them would be like, especially (or not lol) if you don't know super much about bikes in the beginning

Yee I'll go to bed now, bye bye ❤️

Yeah I definitely see D&D motors as having this very chill vibe from the moment you walk in the door, it's just very relaxed in there. Maybe a bit too relaxed sometimes? Could see both Inui and Draken being too busy playing around and repairing bikes so they don't always notice straight away when a customer walks in (they eventually get a bell which was inspired by Kazutora walking in one day and them hearing his earring). I definitely think they would be eager to take someone on as soon as they could to do the paperwork side of things though since I feel like neither of them would want to do that part (they normally rock paper scissors for who has to do it).

As for S&S motors, I feel like they actually have the opposite vibes, at least at first. Like Shinichiro used to have a bunch of delinquents hanging out in there and I don't think that would change much in the future. So you walk in there and there are these bunch of intimidating guys hanging around who stare at you as you walk in. The intimidating vibes break though when either Shinichiro makes himself known by greeting you or someone like Benkei asks if you're ok because you look pretty anxious. Then once you get to know them it feels a lot more friendly in there. But I agree, Shinichiro would definitely be a nice boss to work for!

[project-sekai-news]

A Strange Blue-Twintail Ghost?!

Hello, and welcome back to Project Sekai News! I'm Hoshino Ichika, and this is our faithful journalist, Tenma Saki!

Hi everyone! Glad to finally be back after such a hiatus!

We apologize for being gone for so long. Though this is no excuse, school has become stressful lately, as we are second years. Nevertheless, we are back to report on events around Shibuya Sekai.

As for today's report, I'm sure you've all heard of Hatsune Miku, Sekai's beloved virtual idol.

I have, Ich - Hoshino-san, but what about the people that haven't? Care to share with us who she is?

Of course. She's something called a Vocaloid, developed by Crypton Future Media, and codenamed CV01. A Vocaloid, according to the Vocaloid Wiki, is "a singing voice synthesizer software product." Basically, a software that can allow users to synthesize a singing voice. Hatsune Miku is depicted as a sixteen year old girl with long blue twintails, though there is debate on what color they actually are. Some people say they're teal or green. She was released in August 2007, and since that has become the most popular, cutest girl ever, able to spread hope to all of her fans across the world...

Haha, Hoshino-san! You're getting carried away!

A-ah, sorry! Um, anyway... people have been claiming that they've seen Hatsune Miku around Shibuya Sekai, walking around as if she were a normal human being. Obviously, this isn't possible, since you can only see Miku on a screen. They report they only saw her out of the corner of their eye, and when they tried to look at her directly, she vanished.

Woah?! Are we sure they're not hallucinating?

Most of the people who saw her have never hallucinated anything before, which is strange. A first year high school student reported that she thought she saw Miku behind the corner of a building, watching her, but when she blinked, Miku disappeared, as if she were just imagining it. Multiple people reported a similar situation, actually.

But considering the amount of sightings, it's probably not her imagination, right?

No.

Is it not a cosplayer, or someone that just happens to look like Miku?

If it was a human, no human should be able to simply disappear like that.

Then is she... a ghost?!

Not exactly - she could be a hologram. Miku is a robot, after all. Though how she's appearing throughout Shibuya is a mystery. But since it's Miku and not Kagamine Le - I mean, some really creepy monster from the Backrooms - I assume we don't have anything to worry about! After all, Miku could never cause any real harm to the citizens of Shibuya Sekai.

What did Len ever do to you -

The police are trying to investigate this sudden apperance of Hatsune Miku, but so far have no luck regarding figuring out what exactly she is. We ask that for now, do not approach the Hatsune Miku hologram and report any sightings of her to the police immediately. Until we know what she is, we need to take the utmost precaution.

Even if she is your favorite idol!

U-um! Ichi - Hoshino-san, Tenma-san - is that over there - the Miku hologram?

Where?! - Azusawa, that's red hair, not blue. Oh - it's gone. Well, the vanishing part wasn't a lie...

N-no, there was blue right next to it, I think..

I saw it too...

Um, Ichi? Why do you look so scared?

...

Ok, signing off! Bye everyone! It was nice talking to you again!

Goodbye!

Kohane, turn off the camera right -

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey, did you see Project Sekai News' report on the Hatsune Miku ghost?

Yeah.

I did! I'm glad they're back, but it was a really weird report, wasn't it? I haven't seen Miku as a hologram yet... and what happened at the end?

I rewatched the video multiple times, but I couldn't see anything wrong. We can ask Amia about it when she arrives. Maybe she'll know something.

...

Is something wrong, Yuki?

Nothing.

...Okay. I'll get to work, then. I'm almost finished with the demo...

Alright.

[briefpeachdinosaur]

dazai and flirting

NSFW Minors do not interact. Mention of suicide ( It's dazai ) And this is just an Observation of how dazai flirts with women, why and when.

It's your girl Mina Posting I'm nervous-

•I know it seems silly But when dazai flirts most of the time and what we have seen so far, is that he always wants something from the women he flirts with.

• It is either related to go and Do a double suicide with him or that he Plans something ahead already.

•for example when higuchi was there for the first time, he flirted because he noticed there was something wrong and decided to spy on her. And he was right.

• or with the nurse, I know there is a big discussion how he and the nurse must have had Sex but I think he was A too injured to do it ( without him being hurted ) and B it didn't (at least for me) came across like they did it lol.

• Anyways I think he used his charm on her to get his Phone so he could do a call.

•LMAO he always becomes a Poet when he flirts LOL.

• He ALWAYS makes poems.

• dazai knows how to Deal with women.

• he is skilled in flirting lets not forget that he does has one night stands (comformed by chuuya)

• but I do believe that he respects women.

• he never flirts or ask for a double suicide with yosano or any of the women in his work place, I think it Shows how much he respects them.

• (I'm also not saying he dosen't respect women whom he ask to take there lifes with him btw)

•( if he would offer ME a double suicide bye guys i would have said yes)

• but we are all like this that we have extra respect for some and not for some others.

• if however he ask a women to make a double suicide with him and they turn him down he dosen't pressure him. He might be like " but a double suicide dosen't work alone Belladonna " but let go after that. ( as we saw with him and the waitress lol)

• I also think he notice If a women is not into him in that way he'll not pressure her or try to Manipulate her into doing smt she Dosen't want to.

•I think he notice right away if she is into him or not.

• so like he walkes into a Bar and sees how a women looks at him he knows.

•when he Talks to her he knows if she really wants to or not.

• i think he is the typ of guy who likes someone who really wants to sleep with him just like how he wants to sleep with them.

•I think if he sees a women being harrased he probaly do something. He is not an ass just a big tease who likes to annoy people.

•i also don't think he would try his shoot to them after helping them ( he isn't an idiot as we all know he is super smart)

• i think he has a normal Sex drive.

•now lets go to the suicidal part.

• I think we all overlook how it is very selfish and greedy from him to want a women to take her life with him.

•he is basiclly asking to throw her life away for him and her future with that. I think if she changed her mind he be like : what serious ?

• I think he would let a big shign pass his mouth and be like : well It's your choice after all...

•tbh I think he, deep down, he know he can't die bc he promised oda that he will do something that will help people around him.

•I think dazai has a big disconnetion to himself, aka his feelings and the World and humans in generell.

•I think thats why he dosen't see a good point in living cuz he is so disconnected from the World and he Dosen't understand why or perhaps Dosen't even know.

• not to mention the mafia really messed with him and his moralitys. I know he himself is already messed up but imagine he grew up in the ADA like ranpo.

•I'm quit sure he would have been a bit different then.

• Perhaps deep down he dosen't wants to Die but he sees this as the only chance to something better. To be free from all this pain he dosen't even get.

• Dazai dosen't realize that the people he cares for also care for him equally.

• but have you noticed whenever he tried to end his life it was bc he Planed smt ahead ALL THE TIME ( ok maybe almost all the time)

• idk if it was intentional but when he jumped into that Lake he met Tiger boy remembere ?

• Or how he was there durning the investigation of the death of that women where he told Tiger boy that ranpo dosen't has an ability acually.

• now this was intensional, when he, like I said, ask higuchi to kill hersef with him.

• or why he was so overly friendly with Nobuko Sasaki.

(I read that sasaki was more dangerous in the manga )

• He KNEW there was smt wrong

• Poor kunikida tho...

[yescking]

OMMGGG THE LAST POST??? HELLO??????

Btw hii again!! Idk how to describe it correctly, but I wrote before about SM trolling kids in Roblox LMAO and other stuff.....

I just came to throw this here.

Bro looks at the screen like I did it (I did)

ANYWAY LET'S IMAGINE THAT IT IS. LIKE. FAR, FAR IN THE FUTURE OKAY.

IDK.

BYE.

This is just a little sketch, but I hope it makes you giggle (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

I'll say it again, your AU is spinning in my head 24/7. Your style, your ideas.... The rizz, the skibidi.....

Oh and I can't be anonymous anymore. Well. Um. I'm a fan, I'm not ashamed.

(Eats your art again and runs away)

(omg)

aw omg hellooo!!!! AWWW the far away future...its so bright...🥺🥺🥺 THANK UUU FOR SHOWING ME THIS CUUTE ART!!! <3333

[countrymusiclover]

14 - Getting some big news

Part 15

Dr. Redhead Neighbor

Tag list - send an ask to be added @annieradcliff @watermeezer @zaidatorcuatomorgado @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @melvia-ito @dreamgemini09

Shutting the fire truck door I ran a hand through my hair that was in a ponytail. Brett closed up the ambulance door coming over to me with a cheerful smile on her face. “So when’s the wedding future Mrs. Halstead?”

“We’ve been tossing around the idea of getting married at city hall and then doing a bigger then if I come back from deployment.”

Brett snapped back at me sharply. “You mean when you come back from deployment. I cannot have one of my closest friends dying on me now.”

“Trust me, Brett. It isn’t the way I’d like to go. “I nervously chuckled clasping my hands in front of my chest hearing my phone vibrating inside my jacket pocket. “Speaking of my soon to be husband, hey Will.”

He switched the phone call to video where I saw he was sitting in the locker room he stored his work bag in at the hospital. “Mal, I just called Jay and he said he can get all our friends together before tonight at Molly’s to tell them the big news.”

“Will, everyone pretty much already knew when I showed up to work wearing your mom’s wedding ring. I think you only have to tell your hospital work friends about the fact that we’re engaged.”

He slightly rolled his eyes at me. “Fine, fine, either way I am super excited for tonight. I only get so many more days with my favorite girl and her dog.”

“Don’t remind me, Halstead!” Brett shouted over my shoulder.

Shaking my head I put my focus back on my fiancés. “Anyway, where we’re we?”

“I just wanted to call you and say I miss and I love you. And I am having Connor come over after work to help move your stuff over into my apartment. I already talked with the landlord, and she said it was no problem that we combined into one apartment if we do not miss our payment.”

Throwing my head back I smirked knowing he had most of this figured out way before we had our last date. “You are the best. Is there something specific you want me to wear tonight at Molly’s?”

“How about that short black and red dress we got at the store the other day.” Will smirked back at me.

My face began to turn red at the thought considering what we had agreed upon when I wore said dress. “I thought that was only to be worn in the apartment when we – you know..”

“No I don’t know. You might have to say it.”

I glared at the ginger head. “No way.”

“Then I guess you won’t get to kiss me until tomorrow morning.” Will teased me with a cheeky smile across his face. He playfully chuckled trying to be all serious.

Brett grinned leaning her body against the side of the ambulance vehicle. “You two are going to make great parents one day.”

“I think we’re far beyond the discussion of babies, Brett.” I glanced back over at her.

She shrugged her shoulders before the call alarm went off meaning we had a case to get tend to. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Mal.” Will smiled seeing me glancing over my shoulder knowing we had a call to answer.

Leaning up on my toes I waved bye, finally climbing up inside the passenger seat of one of the fire trucks. Will watched the trucks pull out before his phone vibrates so he ends the video call. “We need to talk about something important. It may effect your soon to be wife and you. Meet me in the hospital parking lot after your shift.” – from Jay read the text message on his phone.

Two months later – Afghanistan

Running through buildings Maxon ahead of our unit tries leading us away from the firing squad. Bullets fly over our heads with my boots splashing in mud and blood. "Mallory, we're taking up heavy fire!" Luke called out as I fired a shot at an Afghanistan who jumped down from a window trying to kill us.

Maxon barks digging away a hidden room in the bottom of a hideout. I order the rest of my team inside but a bullet gets shot into Luke's leg. "Luke!" I pull him down into the room with Kyle jumping down last. Pulling the door closed with the attached rope between his teeth. Tearing a piece of my shirt off Luke tried to talk.

"Mal go, get the others out of here-" I cut him shacking my head no with my ponytail falling over my left shoulder.

"Stop talking Luke. I'm not leaving you. If I can help you in some way I'm sure as heck going too." Kyle suddenly tugged my shirt when Luke and I are on our feet, dragging us outside with the others. "What is it-" I cut myself off collapsing into the dust hearing rounds of gunfire and an explosion ringing in my ears.

The next time I opened my eyes I felt a cold wet rag being dabbed against my forehead mintues before I was able to realize that it was my former Doctor who treated my leg when I returned home the first time. He placed the rag down on the nearest table picking up the chart that he had been taking notes down on about something. “Ms. Easton, I have been waiting for you to get some more rest. I have news I need to talk to you about.”

“What are we talking about, Dr. Owen’s?” I questioned him still slowly regaining consciousness.

He flipped over another page from his chart. “After the explosion I ran some tests just to make sure you were alright and weren’t injured. And I found something when one of my female nurses suggested a change in the physical appearance of your stomach. I have to ask when was the last time you had your period?”

“Um – I know I had it before I was deployed out here. Why do you need to know?”

Dr. Owen’s lifted his gaze up from the clipboard. “It appears that you are two months pregnant, Ms. Easton. Given the circumstances I have called you Lieutenant and he’s decided that we’re sending you home. So congratulations are in order for you and the babies father.” My mouth hung opened in utter shock where I couldn’t believe what he had just told me. I knew Will and I had slept together but I didn’t think it would only take one time for that to happen. We couldn’t possibly be parents, we weren’t even married yet.

[okami-iris]

Day 9 • ~ Romantic getaway | Kuwabara x Yukina

{"Romantic getaway"} Ship: Kuwabara x Yukina✨

{~ A/N! Hi! so Here's YET another Oneshot! 😭 I know I'm writing a lot... but I'm trying to get better!💕 I've actually had this idea in the back of my mind for awhile^^ Also! I'm not sure if a Honeymoon is considered a Romantic getaway but I consider it as one! so that's what I'll be Working with! ALSO!!! if any of this seems weird it's because this is part of my Fanfiction "A Cozy Home" Which In case you're wondering I HAVE NOT posted yet!😭 sorry! but yeh this takes place 3 years into the future! ok enjoy!~💝}

×WARING! This story has other ship's if you can't tell Yusuke x Keiko! is one of them and there's a OC Yusuke and Keiko's son Yunoke. I have a Lot more yyh future kids but only one will be in this story^^ but it's Not About Them!! it's about Kuwabara and Yukina!! also Hiei's already told Yukina he's her Brother! I want a happy sibling moment!×

[4 days after their wedding they decided where to go for their honeymoon... Hawaii! Yukina was very Excited! Kuwabara and Yukina had been Staying at Kurama's house (*AKA Genkai's house! idk why but I decided to make him take over her house!*) and now it was Time to go!✨ they said their goodbyes to their friends and family before they got into the car and drove off to the airport!]

Yusuke: So how long will you guys be gone again?

Kuwabara: A week^^ (*smile*)

Yusuke: Ohhhh~ I week to yourselves~ Have fun~ (*sly smile*)

Kuwabara: (*Blushes*) ShUt Up UrAmEsHi!!//

Keiko: (*slaps Yusuke!*) Yusuke be quiet! (*holding Yunoke their son*)

Yusuke: Geez! that hurt!!

Keiko: Want some more...?️️👁️👁️ (*hands Yunoke to Botan*)

Yusuke: Nope nevermind...°°

Botan: Buttttttttt Anyway! you guys have a great time ok!^^ (*smile!*)

Yukina: Thanks Botan we will^^ (*looks over at Hiei*)

Yukina: Goodbye brother...

Hiei: Bye...

Mukuro: (*slaps Hiei!*) Give her a ACTUALLY goodbye!

Hiei: Fine Woman! I'll do it! (*goes over to Yukina and hugs her. a genuine hug*)

Yukina: Oh°°

Hiei: Goodbye sis...I ....(*he tries fighting the urge to say it*) Love you..

Yukina: (*Hugs him back*) I love you too brother!^^

Shizuru: Take care baby bro just don't pull anything.. (*smirk*)

Kuwabara: Why would you say that!? I won't ok!!... oh yeh Sis take good care of Eikichi!!

Shizuru: For the 10th Time today I Will!! your to worried about it! I'll take good care of her

Kuwabara: Ok I trust you...️️..👁️👁️

Kurama: Not to rush you anything but your flight leaves at 5:57am and it's 5:00am already°°

Kuwabara: Oh crap! we got a 30 minute drive to!! Okay everybody Goodbye!! (*grabs Yukina and jumps I'm the car*)

Everyone: BYE!!!

Yukina: (*Sticking her head out the window as they drive away*) Bye!!

Kurama: I hope they make it on time...

Shizuru: they will.

[After HOURS of flying Kuwabara and Yukina landed in Hawaii it was late at night and the first thing they wanted to do was...... GO TO SLEEP!! they were exhausted this was Both there first time on a plane. so they checked into the hotel, loaded in their luggage, took a shower and change their clothes and then they FINALLY got to sleep!! they woke up the next morning Excited for they're Time at the beautiful Hawaii!☀️]

Yukina: This is beautiful isn't it!

Kuwabara: Not as beautiful as You!! (*simp mode activate*)

Yukina: Oh Kazuma^^ (*gives him a kiss on the cheek*)

{•°END!°•} A/N Hi so ok I Know over HALF of this FANFIC was about them saying goodbye but I just don't know how to write people on Vacation! maybe I'll try to rewrite this sometime but anywho! also I know it was weird to include Mukuro but she's Yukina's friend and Hiei Girlfriend! she had to be here! (NO hate please ) Also in case you have questions let me know!!

@yyh-revival (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤ Hi... Are my submission's good so far? I feel like I'm the only one who Joined 💝

[okartichoke]

Psst.... *slides this across table to you*

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61743991

[note from future me: HEY EVERYONE GO READ THIS FIC !!! :DDD]

I LITERALLY SQUEALLED WHEN I SAW THIS ASK YESTERDAY AND THEN HAVENT BEEN ALONE WITH FREE TIME UNTIL RIGHT NOW BUT OMG AM I EXCITED ! you're getting my live reactions now YIPPEE !!!

"In the laughing rivulets that filled his chest, it whispered maybe." I LOVE this sentence. This whole section is so vivid and MMMMMM

"He felt, and felt, and felt and there was barely even Phoenix anymore, just a haunted angry thing choking on feelings and moving on instinct." This quote isn't even half a page down from the last but there's genuinely already like a billion lines like this that are just spectacular; that with so few words move me so deeply

"She knelt beside the threadbare couch and took his hand, and begged him to get up. Said she’d be a better daughter... " OFIEJOIJWEFOEWA AND THAT'S NOT TO EVEN MENTION THE THE NEXT PARAGRAPH WITH TRUCY which actually made my eyes prick with tears

I really like the way you write Larry btw ! [edit from 30 minutes later me: i like how u write everyone actually x3,, fran and miles get special shoutouts too]

"—A voice in his dreams, it sounded like Mia" OFJEWOIAJFEOIFJDLFJOSJFELS

GUMSHOE IN A KNIT SCARF EEEEEKSKSSS SO CUTE

the little bit with everyone saying bye got me to chuckle xDD

OKAY CHAPTER 1 DONE!!!! CRYPTID.. CRYPTIID..... OMG... i knew this was going to be a good read but AHHH i loved it sm x333 you're dialogue is so fun. like the conversations feel real, and they go off on little tangents in really charming ways,, i really enjoyed the little moments like Maggey excitedly talking about being suspected a second time, or Phoenix holding the phone far from his ear during his call with Fran. (and that's just to name a couple examples) (ALSO FRAN CARING SO MUCH <333 I LOVE OMG) okokok onto chapter 2

wait oops i got sucked in and forgot to take live notes LOL,, anyways this comment is about the little reactions from Phoenix in regards to Miles' idiosyncracies,, specifically (in regards to MIles' grabbing his bicep) "That old habit. The Phoenix of a year ago would have ached at the sight. Current Phoenix just ached." and "Miles had gotten more expressive with his hands since his time away in Germany. Phoenix thought it suited him." I loved these inclusions so so so so much. it's like, despite everything, phoenix still cares so deeply. OH OH AND NOW PHOENIX LIGHTLY SCOLDING EDGEWORTH AGUHHH I LOVE !!! I LOVE !!

"'Yeah, you’re a pompous ruffly ass'" lmao

i guess i have a soft spot for phoenix and trucy's relationship bc woah here i am tearing up again at phoenix talking about her <333 you write him exactly how i imagine him <33

holy shit. the way you (or, Edgeworth, i guess) describes Wright's flavor of honesty? you've put his character into words so eloquently.. god i love him and i love you for writing him so good omg. and then the end of that short monologue hits like a truck aughghhhooooghhh

OH AND THEY'RE SO TENDER. HOW DARE THE CHAPTER END LIKE THAT BWAHAH FIOJOIAJDFJLSDKJFAOEIO AHH !!!

CRYPPTTIIDIDDDXDD AUUGHHHHHH !!!!! i need to stress again just how much i love your style of writing !!!!111! 1 the banter is so alive and the levity throughout (despite Phoenix's emotional state) makes the moments of tenderness and of the characters proving how deeply they care for each other hit so hard,, this was wonderful !!! thank you for sharing w the fandom and with me!! :DDD LOOKING FORWARD TO CHAPTER 3 FOAIWEJFLAKJD

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

love me some kiara and kovu from lion king 2 being so human straight they end up breaking lion gender norms without even trying

"It's the LIONESS'S job to do the hunting" Scar says in lion king 1 "Where is your hunting party!?" he demands of Serabi the former lion queen, "Pinned ya again" says Nala the lioness who grows up to continue pinning Simba the future lion king bc he sucks at pouncing

and then here comes Kiara, lioness, future queen- also absolute rubbish at hunting and pouncing

it's her boyfriend who can do the pouncing, not her

three out of the five only other lady lionesses have been far more into ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK thing than talking (nala almost murdering simba during their reunion, zira and vitani in general)

contrast mufasa in lion king 1 ready to accept a challenge FROM scar but wouldn't make one himself even tho he's got the lion's share of brute strength between them, then simba, while reclaiming pride rock, gave his murdering uncle an offer of MERCY him regaining his place as king started with him trying to TALK to Scar it only turns into a battle bc of Scar, Simba, the rightful king, tried to do things peacefully

and here comes Kiara, the peace bringing girl character, which for humans, yep a troupe, but for the lions in these two movies? Not so much

EXTRA CUTE BONUS FOR

lion king 1 is like "every lion dude wants to be king" nuka from lion king 2 is like "hey i am ALSO a lion dude! I should be king!!" Zira from lion king 2 is like "Kovu you are a lion dude that this dead guy chose, so YOU will be king!"

human society like

"guys are the leaders" "heroic guy characters should want to be in charge" "here's a million stories of the scrappy guy character becoming king/chief/captain" "here is a lady who trained her whole life to do Thing but this guy who only just started Thing will be better than her at it and then they will Kiss"

meanwhile in lion king 2...

Kovu meets Kiara and goes "maybe i don't wanna be king maybe I just wanna run around and be silly with her :( stand by her :( follow her lead even when running away would be easier :( maybe try teaching her how to hunt :( go star gazing :( :( c-cuddle :( :( :( Simba let me back in the pride you can be king its fine please i miss my girlfriend :("

it's so funny, because for straight human characters, Kiara and Kovu are surface level typical- except also not, thanks to Kovu 100% just goes I Don't Care I'm Literally Only Here To Stand By Kiara and Look Pretty-

but the ways they're Human Normal just makes them so very very Lion Odd by accident

anyway. future movie where lion queen kovu ends up hunting with the lionesses while lion king kiara deals with morning reports / prideland politics and maned lioness vitani patrols with her 5 girlfriends ok that's my canon now bye

[vanteguccir]

heyyy loveeee so this is just a little rant :) (you don’t gotta respond tbh)

So I actually wanna make an Aupair year in California when I graduate school in like- 4 years. But I’m a huge family person and I don’t know if I’ll survive (I love being dramatic) without my family. Cause while I’m in America they’ll be in Germany. but on the other hand, my plans for my future are all far away from Germany (cause I hate Germany and my fuck ass city). but I low-key really wanna do it for the experience. Another thing I’m not sure about is if I’m gonna make friends or if it’s gonna be an emotional crisis. Cause I’m pretty introverted and with my social anxiety I don’t really talk to strangers🙂

second thing is- I kinda had a fallout with my best friends. I’m starting to believe that I’m the problem here lol. Anyways. We often talk about politics a shit and she *very* often says some very racist shit. And since two weeks or so her other two best friend, who are also my best friends, started saying that too. In general we argue a lot about opinions. for example today i said trans and non binary people should be respected and treated properly and they said they wanna go to Russia cause trans people are killed there for coming out cause it’s “inhuman”. Tf? They call themselves feminists btw…🥲💀

another one of these was that they said their standard was that their future boyfriends always have to pay for food, etc. and then I said that that shouldnt be the norm cause if they date boys their age, so 15 or 16, they’re just as broke as they are. I mean okay- they can pay once or twice. But not always. And they considered my opinion as “low standard”. Bitch be fr😭

there are a lot of other things they say that trigger me. Like about my crush and all. They always make fun of me for liking him and all. But that’s a whole other story.

anywaysss I hope you’re okay and doing well💞💓💞💕🩷💘💖

love youuuu💋

omg hey angel!!! thank you sm for trusting me with this ☹️🤍

first of all: you're SO valid for everything you're feeling rn. wanting to explore the world but also being scared of the distance from your family? yeah, that's totally normal. you're allowed to be dramatic about it too btw, that’s how we process things! being a family person doesn't mean you can't go after your dreams, it just means you’ll miss them a lot, and that’s okay. you’ll also grow so much, and they’ll be so proud of you when they see the person you become after that experience 🥹

about making friends, i feel you 100%. social anxiety can make the idea of meeting new people feel like a big battle, BUT you’d be surprised how many people you’ll meet who are just as nervous and soft as you. and honestly? just one or two people who make you feel safe can change the whole game 💖

now onto the "friends" situation... okay yeah, no. your gut feeling is right. people saying racist/transphobic/misogynistic things while calling themselves feminists?? nah babe that’s ✨ performative ✨ and so not it. you are not the problem for standing up for human rights. you’re not dramatic. you’re not sensitive. you’re literally being a decent person, and you should NEVER feel bad for that. you deserve friends who make you feel seen, not small 🫶🏻

also?? they make fun of you for having a crush?? girl bye. crushes are cute and fun and NOTHING to be embarrassed about, they’re just jealous that your heart is open enough to feel something. don’t ever let someone make you feel weird for liking someone. they don’t deserve to be that close to you if they treat your feelings like a joke

it might be lonely for a bit, but letting go of people who constantly hurt you opens space for the right ones to come in. and those people? they’ll match your energy, and support your opinions. it’ll be worth the wait

you’ve got a beautiful future ahead, even if it feels foggy right now. please keep holding on to your dreams, California will be lucky to have you ☹️🤍

sending you all the cozy, safe, loving vibes in the world 🤍