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#AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON MITSKI.
squishdraws · 9 months
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no i will post this actually
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1nm806 · 1 year
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i'm literally dead (i just saw someone say theyre putting songs on a playlist for my faves nd its so so wrong i need to explode)
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rosykims · 10 months
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MORNING AND HAPPY DRAGON AGE DAY TO THOSE OBSERVING 😌 im going to be annoying about solas today i think
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killlerfang1 · 1 year
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I would like for all the people making Spider-Verse edits on TikTok to pay for my therapy bills. Please and thank you
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witski · 2 years
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all i need is retired from sad and lush but it sucks that (allegedly) mitski doesnt like her first two albums. like girl... lush altered my brain chemistry. if i gave up on pretty, i wouldn't know how to be alive... for if i am not yours, what am i? oh, i think i'm a real man... how i feel this river rushing through my veins... i was born waiting... but your skin, did you notice your skin? the light of the world is fading... let's shake this poet out of the beast... i named it: love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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soliddaddy96 · 1 year
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me choosing the most weirdest thing youve heard to pour 1/2 of my life into
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vivitalks · 10 months
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maybe i'm jaded or whatever but my hot take of the day is that not every story has to be a movie, a novel, a tv show, a broadway musical, an animation, etc etc. not enough stories these days that really commit to their original format. why is it that everything i see these days was something else before? i know a lot of this, particularly the movies aspect of it, is that big budget producers just aren't picking up original plots because they can profit off nostalgia and sequels and spinoffs nobody asked for but. come on. i miss when every single thing in theaters wasn't based on or taken from some plot that already existed
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kwonhochi · 1 year
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floats gently facedown in a river & gets swept out to sea
#so u see im trans but visible in a very lowkey babysteps way i only just started going by my name a few months ago and i dont really hide th#at im trans i tell ppl my pronouns and stuff if they ask! but im shy i dont introduce myself w threm and i dont pass either so like i still#get misgendered n stuff but ppl use the right name at least now#ANWYAY. so like im out but not Out yk#anyway part 2 i was leaving a thing and someone ik pulled me aside and asked me a question on my preference for something gender segregated#and it was so thoughtful and kind and no one has done that for me before and i really didnt know what to do 😭 its really nice to know that#i can do things quietly and people will still notice and care (in the good way). i mean hes probably overheard my friends using he/him#pronouns for me but still it was so thoughtful and considerate :(#todya has been wild my intrusive thoughts have convinced me my mom died twice today (shes in perfect health dw) and i think im finally#discovering how to hold the small happinesses close each day and letting the suicidal ideation ease away and i think im figuring out how to#live better. im hoping im looking forward to the future again im breathing 1 heavens cloud at a time#n now im just laying here lsitening to this is a life mitski on repeat and feeling like wvery emotion#WELL. that was a really long rant(?) thanks for reading . how are u all :3#i wish i could erase the word like (filler word) from my vocab Its just progresively getting worse all i say is like 50 times a sentence 😭😭
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atlabeth · 7 months
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geyser
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.
a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song
wc: 6.5k
warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs
also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on
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Percy thought that his head might explode. 
He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 
At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.
All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 
“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 
“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 
“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 
Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 
“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 
“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 
“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 
“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 
Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”
Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 
But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 
The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 
His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.
There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 
Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”
That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 
“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”
“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 
“She did.” 
He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 
“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 
“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 
Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 
“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”
Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”
“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”
Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 
“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”
An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 
Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 
He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 
Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 
…Gods. 
Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 
-
“Luke—” 
“No!” 
“Luke, please!” 
“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 
“She won’t know!” 
“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 
Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 
“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 
“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 
“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 
“If you say a single word—” 
“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 
“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 
“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 
“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 
Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 
“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”
“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 
“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 
“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 
To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 
“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 
“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 
Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 
You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 
Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 
Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 
Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.
But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 
Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.
You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 
Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 
“Never better.” 
-
“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 
Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 
“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 
Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 
He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 
He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 
Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 
He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 
“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  
Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 
He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 
“I’m curious,” he decided. 
Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…
Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 
“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 
“And how it killed the cat?” 
He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 
“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 
Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 
“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 
He nodded. “Yeah.” 
“Who’s her parent?” 
Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 
“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 
Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 
He had a sister? 
“I have a sister?” 
“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 
A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 
He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 
Gods. 
“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 
Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 
One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 
“How did you meet her?” 
“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”
Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 
“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 
Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 
Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  
“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 
“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  
Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 
“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 
The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 
Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 
Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 
-
Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 
He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 
“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 
Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 
“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 
“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 
Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 
“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  
Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 
“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 
Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  
Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 
He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 
“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 
“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 
Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 
Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 
Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 
Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.
“A happier part, then,” he suggested.
“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 
In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 
A letter. 
“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 
Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 
So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 
To the one and only Luke Castellan, 
My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.
I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 
Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 
But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 
Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 
I can’t wait to see you again.
Your hurricane.  
It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 
Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 
“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 
Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 
“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 
“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”
Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 
I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 
“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”
Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 
He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 
Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 
“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 
Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 
“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 
He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 
“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 
-
After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 
Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 
Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 
“You’re awake,” she said. 
“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 
“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 
“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 
They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 
“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 
“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 
Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 
“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 
Annabeth went silent. 
“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 
“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 
“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 
Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 
That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 
“How did you meet her?” he asked. 
Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”
-
For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 
It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.
The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 
She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 
But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 
Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 
Where was Thalia? 
Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 
Thalia— 
“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 
“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 
Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 
“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 
Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?
You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 
“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 
“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 
“Annabeth!” 
Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 
“Luke, you’re hurt—” 
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 
“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 
Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 
When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 
“Luke?” you whispered. 
Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 
“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 
“My friends—” 
“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 
Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 
So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 
She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 
The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 
-
You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  
You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 
Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.
You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.
A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 
“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 
Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 
“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 
You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 
Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”
You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 
He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 
“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 
“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 
“You know what I mean.” 
Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 
“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 
“The usual,” you mumbled. 
“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 
You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 
“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 
“Bullseye.” 
“I’m sorry,” he said. 
You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 
“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 
“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 
Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 
“Yeah,” you murmured. 
You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 
That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 
“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 
“Just like old times,” you whispered. 
“Just like old times,” he agreed. 
Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 
There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 
How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 
Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 
“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 
And by the gods, you believed him. 
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rafeysbafey · 10 months
Note
hey! i love your fics and was wondering if you could do a fic based on mitskis song ‘my love mine all mine’ ( mostly the part “nothing i do belongs to me”)
I was thinking maybe reader thinks rafe is using her for s-x and maybe she thinks that rafe doesn’t love her and becomes distant?
if you can’t it’s totally okay! 🩷🎅🏻
LOWKEY dont know how to feel abt this fic i feel like i went off track im so sorry in advance
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you sat in silence with the comforter pulled up to your chest as your eyes trailed after rafe, watching as he left to start a shower.
no aftercare, no checking to see if you were okay.
‘cause my love is mine, all mine
you and rafe were never dating, is what you had to constantly remind yourself.
but even with the whole ‘friends with benefits’ deal, he would still treat you like his girlfriend.
“coffee for you, m’lady,” he bowed, sticking out his hand to give you an iced latte.
you took it with a funny look, teasing him as you spoke, “is it poisoned?”
he gasped at your response, faking offense with sad eyes.
or when the two of you would lay in comfortable silence after sex, your body fitting perfectly next to his as he drew shapes across your skin.
“you hungry?” he asked, paying attention to how your stomach growled softly.
“only if you are.”
“ill take that as a yes,” he chuckled before grabbing his phone and typing in your favorite take-out restaurant.
but here you were, sitting in his bed by yourself as you listened to the water hit the tiled floor.
i love mine, mine, mine
deciding you weren’t going to wait for him, you slide out the bed and grabbed your clothes that were carelessly thrown across the room.
you didn’t hear much from him the day you left, but when it was close to midnight the next night, your phone pinged.
‘rafeeeeeee’
want 2 come ovr
?
you decided to ignore his text, not caring to respond as you tossed your phone to the side and continued to watch your show on Netflix.
the weekend went by with you ignoring rafe, leaving the boy confused as he left voicemails asking what was wrong.
it was cheesy, but you guys really didn’t spend even a day apart, always hanging out or sleeping over at each others houses.
you were getting ready for school when you heard a car honk outside, your brows furrowing together before realizing who it was.
rafe always picked you up for school, you just forgot to tell him not to today.
sighing, you answered the front door but froze when you came face to face with the boy, an iced latte in his hand and a frown covering his features.
“you’ve been ignoring me,” he automatically said, hurt laced in his voice as you stood there in silence.
“can we not do this right now?” you asked, voice quiet as if someone else were listening to the conversation.
“i just want to know why my girl hasn’t been responding to my texts or calls.”
your body flinched ever so slightly at the words ‘my girl,’ catching you off guard as you looked at him in shock.
“im not ‘your girl,’ rafe,” you stated, although the quiver in your voice seemed to give it away.
“you’re always my girl-”
“then why have you been treating me so different lately?”
nothing in the world belongs to me
it was his turn to freeze in place, mouth opening to speak but nothing coming out.
“I just-” he cut himself off before running his free hand through his hair, “i just got scared, okay?”
“scared of what?”
“falling in love with you!”
your eyes widened at his confession, rafe’s mouth immediately snapping shut at the realization.
“I shouldn’t have said that- i shouldn’t have said anything.”
“rafe,” you mumbled, eyes searching in his for any sign of regret or bluff.
“you shouldn’t be afraid, i think- no i know,” you corrected, “i know im falling for you.”
his shoulders fell in relief at your response, eyes lighting up as a small blush painted his face.
“really? you’re not just saying that, right?”
you let out a small laugh before shaking your head, “im not.”
“well, will you take this iced latte and make me the happiest man on earth, and be my girlfriend?” he stuck out the cup as he got on one knee.
“rafe you’re making this weird!” you laughed, grabbing both his shoulders and yanking him up.
“but yes, i would love an iced latte.”
“and?” he asked, brow raising as he pretended to get impatient.
“oh, yes i will be your girlfriend.”
but my love mine, all mine, all mine
886 notes · View notes
dovveri · 5 months
Text
save your love
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synopsis: y/n is susie in allie x & mitski's susie save your love song - if u dont know it go listen :P (but also u dont have to lol synopsis is y/n calls bsf sana drunk and sad and angry abt her bf and you don't know that sana is in love with you)
warnings: cursing, sexual harassment, alcohol, slight cheating, gonn repeat sexual harassment bcs its there and its potentially triggering so err on the side of caution and dont read if ur worried - take care🙏
w/c: 3.7k
a/n: still not over the fact that sana used susie save your love in that one ig post like wdym ur a mitski - qpoc ICON - listener and u post a song abt how u wish ur bsf would leave her dumb bf and be w u instead - a quintessential wlw experience like HELLO???? i also think i projected a liiiiiiil bit accidentally maybe im so sorry but writing this shit works better than therapy ngl
࿐ ࿔*: ☽・゚
"y/n where the fuck are you."
you're cursing as you almost drop your drink, phone between your ear and shoulder.
"i dunnoooo one of marshall's friends' places i think. he was supposed to be my ride home but i can't find himmmmmm."
sana's already got her keys in her hand, heading out towards her car, cursing under her breath, "can you share your location with me sweetie? or is there anyone else there that you know?"
you look around at the various stragglers in the living room either smoking, high out of their minds, or completely passed out. loud music, bass thumping hurting your head as you feel the vibrations shoot up your body. "mmmmm noooo but-"
"hey! marshall's girl right?" a deep voice comes over the phone and sana squints to try and make out what's going on, unlocking her car and turning her engine on.
"y/n? hey y/n you still there?"
"mm yeah sana sorry one sec- you guys know where marshall is?"
"think i saw him headed home with someone in the passenger seat, thought that was you cutie."
"someone else? huh?"
"you doing okay? you look a little pale let's get you upstairs in the bathroom yeah?"
"w-wait no-" sana can make out multiple voices talking to you and a little scuffle as you drop your phone, voices fading.
"fuck!" she's about to call your boyfriend marshall and demand for your address when she sees you were able to start sharing your location with her. she sets it into her navigation app and starts speeding to the destination.
࿐ ࿔*: ☽・゚
"umm guys where are we going? i don't think marshall's up here..."
"oh don't worry babygirl. marshall's our best friend he's okay with whatever we wanna do."
"mm okay but like- what are we doing? if we're singing you guys have to know i suck at karaoke so don't laugh."
the three guys holding you up laugh, "nah nah baby we're just gonna get you cleaned up a little before marshall comes to pick you up okay?"
"oh okay~ mmm wait where's my phone? i was just talking to my best friend-" you start to fumble for your pockets while the guys lead you into a dim room.
they shut the door and close in on you, you’re still cluelessly looking for your phone when one guy starts kissing you, shoving his tongue into your mouth.
"w-wait! what are you doing?!"
he's pushing you onto a bed and climbing on top of you kissing your neck while the others slip your top off and unbutton your jeans. "shhh we're just cleaning you up like we said. want you to be nice and ready for marshall right?"
"no what-"
the door slams open and sana's there, breathing heavily from clambering over the steps.
"get the fuck away from her."
the guys exchange annoyed looks when the one who was at your jeans stands up and walks towards sana, "you the best friend? you're welcome to join us if you'd like." he's pulling on her hand and dragging her towards you.
she doesn't give him another second, yanking him back and bringing a knee up into his crotch, letting him fall to the side groaning as she rushes towards you.
you realise belatedly she's got her phone out and the flashlight on as you squint, trying to make out her face.
"get the fuck off her right fucking now. i've got all you shits on camera and the cops on speed dial."
the two guys glance at each other, looking like they want to pull a fight but then they're cursing and moving away, picking up their friend off the floor and stumbling out the door.
her flashlight turns off, and you feel her tugging your clothes back into place before lifting you bridal-style and carrying you out, down the stairs, and into the passenger seat of her car.
you watch hazily as she paces around outside for a few minutes on the phone with someone, stopping to snap a picture of the house and then hanging up and getting into the car, slamming the door close.
you flinch at the sound, shrinking into your seat, pulling the jacket she's draped over you closer.
she starts the engine and pulls out wordlessly.
you don't dare speak yet, letting the soft hum of the engine and the late night radio music fill the silence as you listen to her heavy breaths slow down.
finally she sighs and glances over at you, "what would you have done if i didn't show up y/n?" her voice is gentle, it always was with you.
you can't look at her, tears welling up in your eyes as you stare out the window, shrugging in response.
she's frowning, "did they manage to do anything to you? are you okay? do we need to get you to a hospital?"
you're shaking your head, the movement making you dizzy, feeling gross in your own skin as you pick at your nails. "can you take me to marshall's? i don't wanna talk about this right now." you're voice is croaky when you speak, on the verge of tears.
sana grips the wheel hard at your request, instead, pulling over on the side of the empty road and putting the car in park.
you sigh exasperatedly, "sana please i just said i don't want to talk about this right now."
"that's fine but if you think i'm taking you to that asshole's house then you've got to be fucking kidding me y/n."
you turn your head to look at her then, her eyes are dark with barely concealed rage, fists clenched so tight her knuckles were turning white. you falter under her gaze, "he's not an asshole."
she scoffs then, "are you fucking serious? what kinda boyfriend takes you to his rapist friends' house then leaves with another girl without so much as a text. it should be enough proof he’s a dick that he's even friends with those assholes." she spits.
and you can't help it, you start sobbing uncontrollably.
"oh shit y/n i didn't- i'm sorry-" she's shuffling around trying to get around the console, and you sob even louder at her outstretched hand, careful and wanting to comfort you but making sure you were okay being touched first.
you're diving into her arms and then she's all there. pulling you into her lap and adjusting the position of her seat so you can squeeze in between the wheel and her torso. soft hands running through your hair shooshing and whispering gently into you ear. arm wrapped tightly around your waist while your face is buried in her chest, heaving and letting out your disgust.
she never stops running her fingers through your hair, letting your sobs wrack your body, hearts beating in tandem as she just holds you.
eventually, your sobs reside to sniffles and you feel a little silly, rubbing your eyes onto the material of her betty boop pyjama shirt.
she's still combing fingers through you hair, rubbing your back lightly, and laying soft kisses along the side of your face, resting her forehead against the top of your head and breathing you in softly.
"i-i'm-" your voice cracks as you try to speak up weakly but she hushes you quickly.
"we don't have to talk if you don't want to. we can stay here for as long as you want. i'm not going anywhere."
you feel your eyes well up again, but you swallow it down, speaking up after clearing your throat, "i'm sorry-" your voice cracks again, almost breaking, "i'm sorry you had to see me like that."
you feel her lifting her head off yours and looking at you in disbelief, mouth open and about to protest but you put a finger to her lips, still not able to look at her.
"no let me finish. you were right. i had no idea what i'd have done if you didn't come. i'm sorry that you did have to come. i'm just so sorry for fucking up sana. if i'd- if i hadn't got so drunk maybe, or if i'd followed marshall home-"
she licks the finger on her lips and you yelp, looking at her out of reaction and cringing, wiping the finger on her shoulder in faux disgust.
she chuckles, "can i talk yet?"
you nod shyly, "as long as you don't lick me again." avoiding her eyes.
she's smiling and a hand is on your cheek, brushing the skin there gently and you can't help but lean into the touch.
"y/n... you don't have to apologise for anything. i'm sorry if i made you feel like you did. but i don't care about all of that. i'm just grateful i was there, if anything, i'm angry at myself for not being there sooner." you look at her as she takes a shaky breath in, eyes wet, "but you have to know none of that was your fault. there's no what if. it was no one's fault but the guys who decided to take advantage of you while you were drunk."
you're crying again, head in your hands, "n-no but- like i know that but i just- like i trusted them. i trusted them because they were meant to be marshall's friends and i trusted marshall."
she's rubbing her hands at your lower back, "that doesn't make it your fault for trusting them. they broke that trust the moment they started thinking of you in a way they shouldn't have. you can't blame yourself for something like that y/n."
"i just feel so gross sana. i can't stop thinking about how their hands felt on me, and i want to scrub off every bit of them."
she's clutching your waist, anger building up again, "i'll fucking kill them."
you let out a choked laugh, "yeah? you and your 163 centimetres? against three buff gym rats?" you poke the skin at her arms, "with these muscles i assume?" (it was SO funny and adorable in the ready to be tw-log finale ep when jeongyeon was poking at sana saying how she has zero arm muscles)
she's pulling away from you with a pout and a whine on her lips before her gaze darkens and she says somberly, "i have a car."
you laugh seriously then, a big hearty laugh as your head falls to her shoulder, and she's whining and trying to pull you up. you're so grateful for her.
eventually you come up, wiping at your eyes and catching your breath, "well i'm glad i have someone who'd commit manslaughter for me."
she's pouting adorably and you get a sudden rush of want, and you blush, scrambling away, wondering why the fuck you just thought about how easy it'd be to kiss the pout off your best friend's lips.
sana's confused and pulling you back into her, "what's wrong? where’re you going?"
you come up with the quickest excuse you can think of, "gonna puke."
she yelps and quickly opens the car door, almost falling out in her rush to avoid being covered in sick. you're out the door in seconds, heaving in the fresh air and shivering slightly at the cold, hoping it'll at least cool down the heat in your cheeks.
then you're giggling, and then laughing again, turning back to face her look of disgust. her face morphs as she watches you though, and soon enough she's doubled over laughing as well.
to anyone driving past, you'd both look insane, laughing at absolutely nothing. but to you, you've never felt more free, more relieved. you're safe, and okay, and you're favourite person in the whole world is here with you. you collapse onto the hood of her car, and she follows suit, giggling and breathy.
the two of you lay here, looking up into the night sky, counting the stars. you shiver slightly and move closer towards her until your bodies are touching. she's turning slightly, wrapping an arm around your waist loosely, and watching you watch the stars.
you turn to face her, breaths mingling, coming out in wispy white clouds of heat in the chilly night air. you find your eyes dropping to her mouth again, and you can't hide the blush that adorns your face this time. if you'd just leaned in a little more, you'd be able to answer the burning question in your head of what exactly sana tasted like.
the slight quiver in her lower lip entrances you, the soft breaths she's taking as her warmth fans over your face, smelling of jasmine and the toothpaste she’s used just before bed. you're inching closer and closer, her eyes are on your lips as well.
you lose it though, when a tongue peeks out and licks across her bottom lip, and you're pressing your lips against hers softly, eyes closed, and humming at the warmth she provides.
she's kissing you back gently, lips slotting against yours in the perfect way, and then she's gone, pulling away leaving you chasing after her, but she places a hand on your chest, pushing you back lightly.
"you're drunk. and taken. this is wrong."
you whine, trying to pull her back to you but she's firm, sitting up and walking away.
you're blinking and what the fuck just happened? dazed as you stand up as well, moving back into the passenger seat dumbly, peeking at her expression trying to get a sense of what was going on inside her mind.
she starts the engine and pulls out from the kerb, staring straight ahead, giving you nothing.
you can't help but think you've fucked everything up again.
࿐ ࿔*: ☽・゚
the storm brewing inside your head doesn't stop when she pulls into your driveway and parks.
you muster up the courage to apologise but she beats you to it, "i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have done that. can we just forget it about it please? i don't want to ruin anything between us. you're the most important person in the world to me and i can't lose you over these stupid feelings and i'm so sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable at all i-"
your inebriated mind is playing catch up, rolling her words in your head over and over again trying to figure out why that sounded like she was saying she had feelings for you? that couldn't be right. sana was the it girl. she was the girl that everyone wanted. she was the girl that sat through your nerdy rants about space and eels. the girl that bought you ice cream when your first boyfriend broke up with you in grade 3 because he didn't like the way you cut your hair. the girl that cried when she found out you weren't going to the same high school because you were moving away, but then managed to get her parents to enroll her anyway and spent the next 6 years taking the 2 hour commute to school just to be with you.
and holy shit. sana was in love with you.
"sana..." you interrupted her rambling, "i... i kinda have a massive headache right now and i'm more than a little drunk but… this isn't going to change our friendship at all."
her eyes are wide and shining, looking at you in fear, you grab her hands and squeeze them over the console, "i promise i'm not leaving you but i don't want to give you an answer yet when i'm in this state. but if it helps, i'm pretty sure i'm the one that kissed you first." you grin, and she lets out a shaky breath.
you let go of her hands and shyly rub the back of your neck, "i kinda need to get inside and get clean but i'll call you tomorrow if that's okay?"
she's nodding, wiping at her eyes hastily.
you open the door and step out, closing it softly behind you. but you lean back down and gesture for her to roll down the window which she does.
"and sana... thank you for tonight. seriously. i don't know how i can ever show you how grateful i am for you being there."
she purses her lip and is firm again, "stop it. i'm glad i was there. and thankyou for letting me be there for you."
you smile gently as you wave and head towards your door, she waits for you to get inside and the door to shut before she pulls out and drives home, heart thumping, thoughts messy.
࿐ ࿔*: ☽・゚
you wake up in the morning with a pounding headache, stumbling to your kitchen to pop a few painkillers and squinting as you adjust to the morning sunlight spilling through your windows.
thank god you remembered everything that happened last night, you set your lips in a line as you got ready. you had a strict plan for today, and nothing was going to ruin it.
you quickly get dressed, thumbing out a small letter and grab your keys, driving over to marshall's house was step one.
once you arrive, you slam your car door loudly, taking satisfaction in the fact it probably woke him in his self-induced hangover he was no doubt soothing. you stalk up his front door, rapping on the wood loudly and tapping your foot impatiently as you wait for him to open the door.
it's not him though, and you scoff at the sight of a half naked girl, probably barely legal, pushing her aside despite her weak protests, and letting yourself into the space.
you storm up to his room, flinging open the door, grabbing the vase next to the bed, and dumping the water all over his sleeping head.
he wakes up with a start, "WHAT THE FUC-"
you slap him across the face, bringing his attention to you, "we're done." two simple words and you're back out the door, going down the steps, and back into your car.
you're halfway down the street when you spot him in the rearview mirror clambering after you in his underwear, soaking and pathetic.
you can't believe you had stayed with that man for as long as you had.
the relief you feel after your first action of the day is freeing. you're chasing after the feeling you had last night when you were doubled over laughing like madmen with sana on the side of the road. adrenaline pumping as you pull up to your local florist, purchasing a big bouquet of pink hydrangeas and then grabbing 2 coffees and a few bakery goods, shoving everything back into your car and speeding away again.
you arrive at sana's front door in record time, knowing her, she was definitely awake already and probably anxiously waiting for you to call. you grin as you grab the flowers, the letter you wrote before you left the house, and the breakfast you've gotten for the both of you, placing it down on her front door mat and arranging everything nicely so it looked picture-worthy.
then you ring her doorbell and duck, running over to her side fence that you knew she always left unlocked, entering her house through the back door, and sneaking back towards the front.
sana's bent down over the flowers and you can see the slight crease between her eyebrows from her confusion as she reads the letter you've left in the middle of the hydrangeas.
i'm sure you don't need me to tell you what pink hydrangeas represent because you're a huge flower nerd and i love that about you but i'm going to write it out anyway to show you i did the research.
in japan, hydrangeas are used to show you're sorry. and i'm sorry for not realising sooner, for letting you suffer for so long on your own. they also represent heartfelt emotions and gratitude. i'm eternally grateful for you sana. you're the most important person in the whole world to me too. i'd also commit manslaughter for you.
in europe, hydrangeas mean vanity and arrogance. i'm sorry i was so self-involved with my stupid boyfriends. to tell you the truth, i always thought you were too good for me, and that you'd realise that one day and leave, so i clung to anyone i could find, waiting in fear of that day. that was selfish of me, and i see that now, because you could never leave someone you love. because i realised i feel the same way about you, and i could never, never leave you.
pink hydrangeas are the most romantic of the bunch. (they’re also your favourite colour) i'm obviously trying to tell you that i love you too in a more than platonic way. and this time i'm not drunk or hyperemotional, i'm certain.
you silently creep up behind her while she's reading your note, and then grab her waist lifting her up into the air as she squeals, turning her in your arms and planting your lips on hers.
she's caught by surprise, lips unmoving against yours, until she realises it's you and wraps her legs around your waist, arms around your neck, and kisses you back.
you can finally taste her. and there's no way to describe it. you don't know why it took you so long to realise your feelings for her, but you'd never felt the way you feel about her for anyone else. you'd chalked that up to being best friends and that that's the way all best friends feel about each other, but best friends don't sigh into kisses. best friends don't feel like their hearts would explode with each soft press of skin against each other. best friends don't love each other the way you loved sana.
you break away when you feel wetness glide along your cheek, and salt touch the tip of your tongue. "sana?! oh my god i'm so sorry, i shouldn't- i should've asked first- oh shit i'm so-"
she's chuckling brokenly and you can't tell if she's laughing or crying or both but she pulls you back in, melding your lips together again speaking against your mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm just so happy right now."
you smile against her, kissing her again, you think you'll never be able to get enough of this feeling. "i'm sorry it took so long for me to catch up."
you feel her laugh against you, "i'm just glad you've still got some love saved for me."
"always." kiss. "it's all for you from now. i love you."
"i love you too idiot."
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jjkpilled · 14 days
Text
“Do you know how pretty you are?”
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WARNINGS: mentions of disordered eating, body image issues :3 enjoy!
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As I stood silently infront of my mirror observing my figure, he walked in. He didnt say anything, im sure he didnt even see me. I continued silently flexing my stomach to make it look flatter, and sucking in my jaw to make the line sharper.
“Thats whats wrong with people these days.” he broke the silence, causing me to jump slightly.
“hm?” Satoru walked towards me and stopped just behind me, him being around a foot taller than me, he could see me in the mirror.
“They-… tend to make such beautiful girls think theyre any less than they are. With all these-… standards.” I stayed quiet, until i felt his lengthy fingers snake around my waist, pulling me backwards into him.
“Do you know how pretty you are, princess..?” Honestly right now I felt like anything but a princess… I continued my silence as his hands trailed up and down my sides, his distinct chuckle making my heart race.
“Well..? do you…?” He repeated, i didnt really know the answer to that. Because, sometimes i felt pretty. But.. sometimes i wanted to crawl into a hole and never be seen again.
I wasnt sure how to respond so I just shrugged. He sighed and walked away, was he upset with me…? My attachment issues wanted me to fall to my knees, crying and begging for his forgiveness, but the logical side of things told me to just shake it off.
Maybe he wasnt sure how to help.
“Have you had lunch?” He echoed through the house, getting louder as he re-approached my room.
“Mhm.” I hadnt, but I know he’d yell at me if he caught me skipping meals again.
“Dont lie, princess. That’s not cute.” damnit. He always knew when I was lying.. it was weird.
“Im not.” I sighed, turning around to face him. He had his dark, round sunglasses propped up on his head. He looked at me through those piercing blue eyes and quietly made his way towards me, cupping my face in his hands.
“Why?” he asked, to which I cocked my head sideways at him in confusion.
“Why do you do this to yourself…? Who made you think like this..?” He said quietly, his hands running through my hair. When I didnt answer his question he grabbed my face and slightly squeezed.
“Why are you so quiet today?”
“I-I dont know…” I, pathetically, answered. He sighed and unexpectedly hugged me, tight. I hugged him back and he… started sniffling…? Was the Satoru Gojo crying on me?
“Youre so.. beautiful.. and you dont see it… Yet you-… You hurt yourself a-and.. you just- youre gonna kill yourself some day doing that! A-And, it seems like you dont even care!” He cried, he didnt cry.. he just- wasnt a person who did that… yet, he was quite literally sobbing on me.
“Are you starving yourself?” his question was met with silence, he let go of me and took a step back.
“Answer me, damnit! I need to know! Are you fucking starving yourself, again?!” I felt tears welling up, i shook my head quietly.
“Stop lying to me!” He yelled, he didnt yell, ever. At least not at me. But.. he seemed really upset.
I whimpered quietly as he tightly gripped my shoulders, enough to send a painful jolt down my spine.
“You are going to stop with this nonsense! Do you hear me?! Do you fucking hear me, y/n?!” I nodded while tears started to trickle. Seeing this made his anger immediately subside. He hugged me tightly.
“Do you… know… how pretty you are…?”
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sapphic-gardn · 10 months
Text
i will
ellie williams x f!reader
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summary: grief is complex and painful, ellie comforts you.
warnings: mentions of grief, nudity, ellie and reader take a bath together, mentions of boogers (yk when u have a runny nose from crying? yeah), no specific descriptions of reader other than having boobies and flesh, i dont think there is anything else but let me know!
word count: 1.3k
a/n: hi! i’ve returned from my hundred year long hiatus to torment you all. i started writing this comfort piece while i was experiencing life at Rock Bottom. i also found a lot of inspiration from the song i will by mitski <3 also thank you to @hier--soir for helping me with this one 💓 your writing inspires me, truly—i appreciate you tons & tons.
You find yourself curled up on the floor, the crisp breeze sweeping in from the crack under your front door. Chills dance over your skin, seeping into your body, coating your organs in a thin layer of ice. Your tears shed with a blue hue, painting your lips in a sheer lapis tint. Teeth chatter, bone against bone, reminders of the skeleton that is burrowed beneath layers of adipose tissue. Each exhale is accompanied by a dull ache.
Nights bring you here, disentangling your limbs from the warm confines of cotton sheets, calculated movements so as to not wake your girlfriend from slumber. The numbness creeps in through obscured dreams, visions of faces, now ghosts that haunt every distant memory. You emerge from the darkness, featherlight footsteps over creaky floors, loitering around the house amidst bewitching hours. You converse with the night sky, a one-sided interaction that mostly consists of your pleas—tell me why. Grief consumes you like tidal waves swallowing the shoreline. A mere particle of sand engulfed in foam, getting propelled further, further away from dry land.
The vibrations of Ellie’s bare feet padding on the wooden floor rumble through you. Her rasp breaks the silence. Baby—the only word that leaves her chapped lips, a pitiful tone leaking from her honeyed voice. Her hand caresses your tear stained cheek. Upon contact, a shrill sob rips through your larynx. You choke on anguish that rises like bile, it burns your esophagus as it creeps up.
Gentle hands guide your tenuous form to your feet, securing themselves at your sides. Subtle squeezes to the meat of your hips, wordlessly speaking—I’m here.
In your hazy state, you’re waltzed to the bathroom. One of Ellie’s hands fumbles with the light switch while she delicately maneuvers your entirety to sit upon the closed toilet seat. Cold porcelain hits the backs of your thighs, you hiss at the contact, a wince paints your expression. Ellie coos your name, a hushed thing that warms you from the inside. You study her features, a line forms between her furrowed brows, her green eyes searching for your own. Her gaze brings a settling feeling, something like a merciful wake up call. Ellie’s earthy scent mingles with the air. You inhale, the musky essence settles in your lungs, growing limbs and reaching for your heart; wrapping itself around the muscle in a tight embrace.
A tear slips past your waterline, her calloused thumb swiftly catches it as it trails down your cheek. A smile tugs at Ellie’s lips, “You’ve got boogers,” she gestures to your mucin coated upper lip with her pointer finger. An involuntary chortle escapes your mouth, alighting your saddened expression, “There she is, my pretty girl.”
Her focus shifts to the tub beside you, leaving the spot in front of you to turn the faucet on. Ellie peers over her shoulder to look back at you, “Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?”
Her digits fiddle with the running water as it warms, you examine the way her tendons tug at her knuckles, the freckled skin pulled taut with each swipe under the stream of water. Your eyes land on her side profile, you trace the shape of her nose and the protrusion of her pout like an etch a sketch to your brain. You count the freckles on her face, connecting them like constellations. Admiration blooms in your chest, you clutch your shirt where your heart beats faster.
Once the tub fills halfway, Ellie is undressing you—delicately tugging at the hem of your sleep shirt, pulling the thin material over the peaks and valleys of your body. Her touch is silken, it tickles your nerve endings, chills awaken beneath her fingertips. With each sliver of skin revealed, she whispers, beautiful, you’re so beautiful. And in these moments, you believe her, she utters the words with such conviction. You breathe with ease, allowing yourself to surrender to the woman disarming you.
She guides you towards the tub. Soft hands on your arm, your waist. That low, rasping voice in your ear, one foot, now the other… easy now, until you’re over the lip of the tub and being lowered into warm water. You let yourself sink a little lower, feel the water lap over your neck, your hair. You tilt your head back until everything is submerged except your face. Your eyes close, listening. You let the pressure of the water beat against your eardrums. Oceanic sounds bounce around inside your skull. For a split moment you are the sand and the sea, a shell burrowed in the earth.
When your eyes open, you meet the longing gaze of your partner. She admires the halo-shape your hair forms as it floats, the curve of your breasts breaking the surface, the way your tummy moves in waves with each steady inhale and exhale.
Your eyes wander to where Ellie is stepping out of her boxers, peeling her worn tank top over her auburn bed head, discarding the article in the tile. Her focus never falters from you. She looks so beautiful like this, the soft white light casting an illuminating glow to her supple skin. You sit up, folding your legs in, scooting forward—silent invitations. With two long strides, Ellie’s lanky limbs are climbing into the tub behind you. Your bodies mingle, arms and legs tangle and untangle, an uncoordinated tango.
Ellie surrounds you, she is everywhere. The warmth radiating from her coats every inch of your flesh like a blanket. Her thighs are pressed up against the sides of your own, caging you in, the physical security plucking away at your guardedness. Slippery arms snake around your middle, a vice grip pressing you against her front. You feel her heartbeat thump against your ribcage, feel her chest rise and fall with each breath. A connection so primal, so powerful, tethering you to her. Her lips graze the crook of your neck, a sigh escapes you, releasing the tension held in your abdomen. Taught muscles unfurl; a calmness washes over your senses.
Ellie begins to hum, short breaths tickling the shell of your ear. You recognize the song, familiar but just out of reach.
“What are you singing, baby?”
Ellie hushes you, “Shh, shh, just listen to me.”
Her gravelly tone recites the lyrics, “When all my hair turns grey, enter our twilight years,” you listen intently, the song bubbling at the forefront of your mind. A memory plays, placing a fragile disc in your record player, the needle spinning in its grooves, Ellie excitedly rehashing how she found it on patrol.
Both of you sat on the couch that night and tuned in, entwined and entranced. During the fourth song, Ellie stood, offering a hand—dance with me. And so, your bodies swayed around the living room as one entity. “And our friendships slip away, finding it hard to hear.”
Ellie memorized the lyrics, serenading you for weeks, “No I’ll never be afraid, as long as I still have you,” confessing her feelings through the Alessi Brothers.
And now, she croons the same song, “Together in an ocean of life / Just yours and mine / Motionless time / Love is the answer to eternal life.” Easing your mind, caroling the words that never come easy to her in conversation. Reminders of the fire you alight within her, the tenderness you pull out of her.
She is the breeze, the fierce wind that wrestles with the water. She reels you in from the deep end, a lifeline cast before you take your final breath. Her presence is a sanctuary, your vulnerability takes refuge in her arms—your safe haven.
[end]
a/n: hiii!! if you read this all the way through, thank you! it’s my first time posting an ellie fic so i’m a liiiitle nervous eeee! also im a little rusty on my writing so forgive me if this sucks 🧍🏽‍♀️ and i gave up on editing my last read through bc i need to get this fic out or i will never post it
i have an ellie series and a one shot planned out so hopefully it won’t take me a lifetime to post those!!! okieee byeeee 💓
tagging moots: @ilovepedro @gracieheartspedro @undrthelights @daydreamingmiller @chaotic-mystery @cavillscurls @amanitacowboy (idk who else to tag i dont have an official taglist lol why is this so embarrassing)
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redwinesupernova · 1 year
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maybe im just like connecting dots here and i dont want to start another round of like. pointing fingers and vaguing and whatever. but a significant amount of my mutuals are music bloggers and i dont mean to like. keep watch on the type of music you guys post about but it is so monotonous and so white that it's concerning
like i have 2 be honest if the only person of color you ever speak or reblog a picture of is travie mccoy with like. patrick stump. it is so telling.
spam reblogging isnt allyship and never will be all of a sudden posting abt how youre getting into this artist and this band or laundry listing the musicians of color doesnt answer this issue either but like ??? branch out ????
i promise there are more bands with poc than pinkshift. mitski isnt the answer to all of your problems. i dont really have a conclusion to this post but it's just so telling. to me. branch out in musicians branch out in genres i promise listening to musicians of color wont kill you
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ipseitydelrey · 9 months
Note
Hello! I would like to submit a request for Elle Greenaway x fem!Reader. How about spending holidays with Elle trying to cheer her up after leaving the BAU/starting a new life together? Thank you for your time!
oooo the power this prompt holds…i’ve always wondered what might have happened to elle after she left
when memories snow ☆ e. greenaway
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ship elle greenaway x fem!reader
warnings slight angst, pre-established relationship, hurt/comfort but it’s definitely comfort, timeline’s a mess just pretend that the episode where elle quits aired in december and not october okay?, not beta-read
word count 895
summary after elle quits the BAU following the events of s2:e5, reader tries to cheer her up during the holidays.
a/n yeah the title is a mitski reference, dont blame me i love her <3 also this is just propaganda to get y’all to watch The Apartment dir. Billy Wilder (1960) bc it’s a cute christmas movie! merry christmas to those who celebrate, and happy holidays !!
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When the cold night air nips at your skin while waiting outside of Elle’s apartment, you’re glad you remembered to bring thick sweaters.
It was a spur of the moment decision to show up unannounced. That is made clear when Elle answered to your knocks and opened the door. She isn’t really enthusiastic to see you; which you can understand. Her quitting from the FBI is a fresh wound, and she had only told you of her leave through a midnight text a couple nights ago.
In short, she wasn’t expecting you here, especially in the middle of the night and while a budding snowstorm is brewing.
“What are you doing here?” The question isn’t aggressive; none of what she has ever said to you has been aggressive in tone. No, it was genuine, like she really is wondering why you’re at her apartment.
You gesture to a spare sweater nestled in your arms. “It’s the holidays,” you reply. “I wanna spend them with you.”
Elle sighs and steps aside, allowing you in. You go inside and the first thing you notice upon entry are the few packed and sealed boxes in the corner, assuming they’re untouched incase your girlfriend needed to move again. You eye them but decide not to bring it up; after all, the last thing Elle would want with all she’s been through in a short time span is you criticizing her.
She glances at the fuzzy sweater you’re wearing. “Does it itch?” she questions as she closes and locks the door, trapping the cold air outside.
You look down and straighten the dark green wool with your free hand. “Actually, it’s really soft.” You extend the crimson sweater in your arm to her. “I brought one for you!”
Seeing how happy you are, she takes the sweater and pulls it over her head; the red suits her perfectly. “Thank you,” Elle says, letting her hand run over the fabric on her arm. Her faint smile fades into a light scowl. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you ask.
“I didn’t tell you sooner.”
You stand there quietly, breaking the eye contact you had for a second before meekly assuring, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
The second when you stop talking, Elle moves to the living room and you follow behind closely. “I don’t think you came all the way here just to hear me whine,” she chuckles lightly.
“Okay, well,” you were originally assuming that she would turn you away at the door; now, you hadn’t envisioned you would get this far. Suddenly, you have an idea. “Do you still have those hot cocoa packets?”
She raised an eyebrow at your question. “Yeah…why, do you want some?”
“I’ll make it!” you yell as you run into the kitchen, leaving her behind. You’re lucky to have already memorized where everything in the kitchen is, being that this is only your third visit to her apartment. You turned on the electric kettle and collected two mugs and two hot chocolate packets, alongside some small marshmallows which took some time to find. Despite how often Elle would be away from her apartment, her kitchen is surprisingly well-stocked.
After you pour the hot water and contents of the packets into the mugs, you collect them and make your way back to the living room. Elle, now seated on the couch with a wooly blanket draped over one leg, stares at you as you carefully hand her the mug.
The cocoa, as delicious as it smells, is still burning hot, but that tidbit of information slipped your mind as you took a small sip, only to burn your tongue and jerk your head back. Elle chuckled at your reaction and while you’re happy to hear her laughter, you’re also playfully offended by her apparent sadism.
You slap her shoulder lightly as you sit down next to her, leaning your torso against her warm body. She responds with a joking “ouch” as she softly blows on her hot chocolate. You pull the blanket over to cover both sets of legs.
Elle sets her mug down and grabs the remote. “What d’you wanna watch,” she asks, opening up a streaming service on the television.
You take another sip, thankfully the cocoa is cooler and not unpleasantly hot. “Oh, I don’t know,” you say. “It’s your house, why don’t you pick?”
She nods, using the remote to navigate to an old black-and-white movie you hadn’t seen yet. “The Apartment? Is that a Christmas movie?”
“Technically,” she quipped, taking back her mug and drinking when the movie starts.
A few minutes in, you lean your head against her shoulder. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” you suggest, out of the blue.
Elle glances at you with her eyes. “I know.”
“It’s not…necessarily about, y’know, the BAU, but…” you’re unsure of whether or not you want to continue. You look down at the steam rising out of your mug. “I just wanna know if you’re doing okay.”
“I am,” she replies. “I’m okay, I swear.” She turns her head and kisses your forehead softly before turning back and wrapping her arm along the back of your neck.
You smile and take another sip of the hot chocolate, with the sounds of old-timey music in the background and the warmth of Elle’s presence to comfort you.
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literally did not know how to end this, but like it’s very cute 🫶 hope y’all enjoyed (if there’s anything wrong in the fic, let me know and i’ll fix it!) and happy holidays !! ❄️
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yeondollie · 7 months
Text
ᴍʏ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀʏ ᴘᴛ. 𝟸 ᯓ★ ୨ৎ
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'and i'll listen to the memories as they cry, cry, cry.' ᥫ᭡
. . warnings ; ANGST .ᐟ, heartbreak, continuation of part one, usage of nicknames (my love, baby, pretty girl), pleading, breakup, beomgyu cheated (he would never hehe !!), not a happy ending, mentions of sunghoon from enhypen and chaewon from le sserafim (love them both sm sm), fem reader, reader struggles with depression, i think thats it :> !!
. . words ; 0.9k ⋆.˚
a/n ; first of all, thank you so much for all the love on the part 1 ?!! :,) i love you guys so much and i made some mutuals so thank you again and again . i hope you enjoy part two as much as i do ! i was listening to mitski, more specifically puberty 2 and bury me at makeout creek, while making this and woo it made me so sad :< . please enjoy none the less hehe .. ♡
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"i still love you, please dont do this."
all the memories of him suddenly came rushing back to your mind and you could feel your body crumble under you. it was like when you were waving him goodbye to paris a year ago, the pain was unmatched. you didn't even know how to respond. there was no way he truly meant what he said. i mean he cheated, didn't he? "you cheated on me. did you not?"
at this point hes let go of the girl on his shoulder which you later found to be chaewon, a pretty girl he met on his school campus. he dragged you to a secluded corner and looked into your glassy eyes. "i know i messed up.. fuck.. i know okay? but i.." he ran his hands through his hair, clearly stressed. "but what? you promised me, right?" you ask gently.
"you're right, i did and i broke it." he finally admits, feeling all the guilt rush to his stomach. tears fell from your eyes and your hands started shaking. you could just remember how miserable you were when there was no contact between the two of you. you couldn't even get out of bed on some days, it was that horrible. "but _____," he finally broke the silence. "please come back to me."
"i-i miss you more than anything." he was almost on his knees, begging you to come back to him. you were surprised, taken aback even. you knew it was stupid to even think of going back to beomgyu but.. he just had this way with you. "beom.." you whisper.
"please my love. i'll do anything.. fuck.. who are you here with? i'll do anything please. c-come back to me i know i messed up but please. be mine again pretty girl, please."
sunghoon. you were here with sunghoon and you couldn't do this to him, he ought to be worried about you by now. "i-i have to go.." your eyes were watering, attempting to walk away so he doesn't see. he immediatley pulls you into a hug, not allowing you to leave. you hesitate to hug him back. why was he doing all this? just to have you wrapped around his finger again?
"beomgyu i really h-" you were cut off again. "you can't! i.. please? i promise, see i pinky promise?" he forces your pinky to intertwine with his own, forcing a pinky promise. he smiled, trying to get a reaction out of you but nothing. it wasn't working on you.
it was just the fact he left your mind running for a year. 'did something happen? is he safe? does he hate me? is something wrong? i wonder if hes doing okay..' was all that filled your mind for the year he was gone and for him to pull a full 180 was insane to you. "let me go beomgyu, p-please."
he could feel his heart break into a million pieces. he knew what he had done was messed up but let you go? forever? he finally had you in his arms again and you wanted to let him go? "no.. no please baby dont do this. y-you cant do this right? i love you! i love you so m-much please." you weren't fooled by his words.
his world of leading you on was crumbling and as much as you wanted to love him back, he just wasn't the beomgyu you remembered. he wasn't the loving boy you once knew. to you, he was practically nothing. you couldn't see him the same now, it hurt.
"i dont love you anymore." he suddenly grasps your hand, squeezing it tightly. "you do.. please. please dont say that. yes you do, you love me and i love you." he's in complete denial. he cant accept that you've moved on, found another man to hold you in his arms. he was crumbling one by one, you had never saw him like this before.
"beomgyu i cant.. i cant love you anymore. you cheated on me for fucks sake." you're clearly stressed tears flowing down your cheeks. he takes he hand to wipe some of your tears while caressing your cheeks. "i-i please.. i dont want to loose you." he whispers in your ear.
you pull his hands off of you and to wipe your own tears. "did that promise mean nothing to you?" finally your voice began to raise, now just feeling angry. "you know i meant every word i said to you baby." he said this in such a gentle tone, you could almost believe it.
"you don't know how hard it was to sit at him rotting in my bed, wondering if something had happened to you. if you were okay, if you were safe but no. you were cheating on me? you're fucking dead to me." your words stung him like a bee, dead to you?
"you don't mean t-that.. you really d-" he was cut off by your stern voice reaching him once more. "i mean.. every word."
he was falling apart, was this how you had felt when he left? "please my love.. im not dead to you. please say you dont mean that." he pleads, tears dwelling in his eyes. he was truly hurting but this is what he did you to, he hurt you just like this. you weakly pull his grip off of you and start to walk away. "you need to let me go."
"i'll keep saying it, for the next century. i still love you, so much my love." were the last words he ever muttered to you.
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