#as always no pressure to rb i just wanted you to see it <3

[guinevereslancelot]

finally drew my girl ❤️✨️

[ilyhaitanii]

haiii aku ;3 hope u are well bby <333╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

can we get yr input on darling who’s struggling to take sylus’ cock in her cunny or butt :p he would be so sweet but condescending abt it me finks ….!

ps.. i still haven’t played l&ds because i cant STAND the long download at the start .. but i see ur rbs ever so often about ur boy sylus nd i’m starting to grow a liking!!!! ;D

mfhehdeosndnd ive been DYINGGGG 4 someone to ask me abt this !!!! i hope yr doing well too honey <333

mdni 18+ (mean-ish sylus, size kink, use of darling, sweetie, kitten, and slut, what kind of aku fic wld it be if there was no clit play or finger sucking!!!!!!! ++ darling is an implied virgin) mmm i think thats it :3)

trying to fit sylus inside of you is… exhausting to say the least. he’s so mean yet so sweet at the same time it somewhat gives you whiplash. one minute he’s cooing at how much your thighs are trembling, attempting to fit his cock inside of you but you can barely get past the stretch of just the tip.

he’s never really ever fucked you fully. always saying “it’s too much for you” or “that’s not something a sweet girl like yourself should worry about.” any other day, you would argue with him about it, but when his tongue is buried deep inside your cunt and his nose is rubbing against your clit, it’s pretty hard to come up with a coherent reply.

“need any help, sweetie? it’s admirable to admit defeat, you know?” sylus remarks as his nails gently tickle your sides. you flinch, squealing at the sensation. you squeeze around the head of his cock making him groan. he chuckle in a low tone, crimson eyes glowing with desire.

you’re the one who wanted to ride him, finally have his cock inside you. and with much begging (and a lot of his cum down your throat) you finally convinced him to let you try. keyword: try.

sylus enjoys playing with his food before eating it though. he watches the way you struggle to slide your knees down further, unsure as to how much pressure to use. your inexperienced hand placement as well has him reeling. there’s something beautiful about the way you shyly try to cover yourself, yet are spread wide on top of him as his cock is inside you. that gives him whiplash.

“shut up!” you say, cheeks flushing a darker red. you huff, trying to push your knees further down,

“slowly, kitty. no need to rush.” but you just can’t get him to fit inside you! he’s far too big for you. even after being stretched out with three fingers! you let out a soft cry, frustrated. sylus hums, swirling hearts into your clit,

“there’s so point in punishing yourself, sweetie. let me help, hm?” he lets out a soft rumble when your hands finally place themselves on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath your palm contract. sylus’s other hand cups your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips.

“i can do it,” you argue back, sliding your knees down further. however, you lose you balance and slide all the way down sylus’s cock in one go. there’s a loud yelp that escapes your lips when your hips meet sylus’s. tears brim in your eyes at the stretch and this foreign fullness in your tummy.

with your chest pressed against his, sylus places his hands on your hips, sliding you back up.

“poor thing. you really do need my help, hm?” and finally you admit defeat. with little pearls falling down your cheeks you nod your head, sobbing into his neck. “my sweet little girl,” sylus murmurs into your skin as he lays you down in the mattress.

“this is the appropriate position for your first time, sweetie. what you were doing was far too advanced for you.” he chides, pinching your cheeks. sylus slides your knees up, parting your legs. he gets a good look at your weeping cunt and swollen clit. he lines up the head of his cock with your entrance and pushes forward. you try to push him away, but sylus takes ahold of your wrists.

“ah ah, none of that. be a good girl and lay still for me.” his voice is stern, yet the husk of his voice makes your brain feel dizzy. everything about him makes you feel light headed— his scent, his frame, his hands, his cock.

your adorable little mewls and heaves has sylus sinking his cock in further. the stretch is tolerable, but it burns in the best way possible. you can’t explain how the pain feels good. (you don’t have to worry about explaining how you feel, sylus will take care of it!)

“sy!” you reach out for his hand, crying. sylus holds your smaller hand in his, pressing kisses into your knuckles.

“easy there, sweetie. we have all the time in the world, no need to rush.” but your so desperate for him to fill you up, you just can’t take it. sylus watches your pout form as you push your hips against him.

sylus uses his elbows to press your knees to your chest, causing your eyes to flutter open. his thumb strokes your swollen clit as he pushes himself deeper and deeper. time to time, he slides himself all the way out and then fills you right back up. he allows you to adjust to every new inch.

the feeling is unlike any other. sylus’s too brushes against your most sensitive spot, white flashes clouding your view of him. his silver locs covering his eyes. you reach up to brush his hair away, but you feel his cock at a whole new angle.

“ah! sylus!” you moan our, holding onto him. you’re almost there, so close to taking him all the way. before you know it, sylus is fully inside you. you can feel him just below your belly button. the sight of his bulge in your tummy makes him weak. his balls tighten— he could just cum at the sight of it.

“easy there. see, it just took some patience, kitten.” sylus rubs away any tears with his thumb before peppering bites and kisses along your breasts and shoulders.

“you’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” you nod your head along to his words, sucking on his thick digits when they’re slid onto your heavy, sticky tongue.

“not a single thought in your head besides taking my cock, huh?” sylus whispers, watching the way you whine and clench around his cock. he cocks a brow, “oh? did that make you wetter?”

sylus slides his cock out slightly before ramming it into your sweet spot. you clutch onto his wrist, eyes retreating into the back of your skull. his free hand takes one of your ankles and places it on his shoulder. sylus gazes down at you with spit drooling down your lips.

“look at yourself. you’ve gone stupid on my cock and i haven’t even fully fucked you,” he leans in closer, pressing himself deeper. “this is why i was avoiding this. afraid of turning my sweet girl into a stupid slut.” you can’t understand why his words are making your tummy feel tight or why you feel yourself gushing around his length, but again: that’s none of your concern.

© ilyhaitanii - do not repost, translate, plagiarize

[rexscanonwife]

🌈 Welcome to WLWeek 2024 🌈

Hello everyone, I wanted to put together a nice, low-pressure event dedicated to my fellow wlw self shippers for one week of June because it's pride month, babey!! This is the first time I've ever tried to 'organize' an event, so take it easy on me, I'll try to be as communicative as possible and if anyone has questions about it, asks and DMs are always open!

On to the details! Its gonna last from Monday the 10th through Friday the 14th, and anyone can opt in or out as they see fit! No one is obligated to participate throughout the entire week or from the beginning alone, just do what you feel like!

RULES:

NO PROSHIPPERS/COMSHIPPERS/NEUTRAL, all blogs with that will be blocked on sight!

Obviously don't participate if you're not wlw/not shipping with a female character

Lesbians, bisexual, pansexual, sapphic, and once again general wlw/nblw are welcome!

Essentially I am tolerating NO funny business, and I won't tolerate bullying either so everyone be very niceys and hey, try to support each other! 💖💖💖 now onto the prompt list

Monday June 10th: Favorite style/aesthetic-

draw you and your female f/o in your favorite clothing style (goth, Y2K, cottagecore, etc.) Or what you think their favorite style would be! alt. for writers, write a drabble about going shopping for these outfits with your f/o!

Tuesday June 11th: Morning routine -

draw you and your female f/o getting ready for the day. Who's the early riser and who's dragging them back into bed? alt. for writers, write an early morning cuddle session/chat. 

Wednesday June 12th: Date night-

draw you and your female f/o on a date! Is it a dinner, a picnic? Are you guys dressed to the nines or at home in your jammies? Alt. for writers, write a date gone slightly awry. How do you fix things/compromise? 

Thursday June 13th: Beach day-

it's summertime, draw you and your female f/o in beachwear and enjoying the sun and sand! alt. for writers, write out a nice dip in the ocean! Can you swim? Can your f/o? Does one have to teach the other? Is it nice and relaxed or does it dissolve into splash fighting? 

Friday June 14th: Role/Ship Swap -

draw your f/o as the self shipper and you as the fictional character role they fill! What kind of s/i do they make? Would they write fanfic, draw fanart? Alt. for writers, write a gush post from ur f/o's point of view! 

And that's it!! Do one of them, do all of them, or do none of them, it's your choice! I just wanted to show some love to my fellow wlw self shippers out there this month and so something fun for them!

Now if you got this far and you read the rules make sure to put 'great googly moogly' in the tags when u rb! And don't forget to tag my blog here when you write/draw for this event!!! 🫶🫶 everyone who does will get a rb from me and a little promo as well, and maybe even a follow cause I need more wlw mutuals :3

[multi-lefaiye]

tav game (hehe)

i saw there was a tav info tag game thing and came as fast as i could. yoinking the open tag from my friend @kk7-rbs, which you can read over here: [x] (i also wanna shout out the other one of these i've seen, by @findingtarshish! you can see theirs here: [x])

for this one, i'll be doing my boy eden, sharing screencaps from both of my save files with him, but mainly the dark urge one b/c that one i've taken more screencaps in. he's a model to me.

gonna leave this as an open tag for anyone who'd like to do one! for bg3 or not. but i *am* gonna poke @skitzo-kero @void-botanist and @anexor specifically if y'all want <3 (no pressure to any of y'all ofc)

(his dream visitor in this screenshots is taking the form of his estranged father, abdiel, who left him deeply traumatized and riddled with self worth issues)

Name: Dr. Eden Linnaeus (eventually Dr. Eden Ravengard-Dekarios)

Nickname(s): Captain, Ed, Doc, The Sunbringer, Ivaebhin (only Kader, his childhood best friend, can get away with calling him that last one)

Pronouns: He/Him

Star Sign: Leo Sun, Virgo Moon (not sure what else he's got going though lol)

Height: 5'3" / 160 cm

Orientation: Gay

Class: Warlock (Archfey)

Race: Mephistopheles Tiefling

Romancing: In my main save with Eden, Wyll! And in the Dark Urge save, Gale. And in my heart... both. It's a polycule. And the polycule is a biiit more complicated than that even, with other characters involved, but point is. There's a lot of love going around here, of various flavors.

I imagine at least those three are married, though, and Eden takes both Wyll and Gale's surnames, distancing himself from his own family's legacy and forging a new one with these people he cares for so deeply.

(the rest under the cut)

Favorite Fruit: Raspberries! He likes to snack on them while he works.

Favorite Season: Spring! He likes seeing life return to the world after a long winter.

Favorite Flower: He'll say he's not one for flowers, but Eden has a fondness for Mountain Laurels.

Favorite Scent: In many ways, Eden is rather indifferent to smells and doesn't put much thought into picking a favorite. However, he has a fondness for woodsy scents, and a deep-seated aversion to smokey scents.

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate?: Coffee, all the way, but he has a fondness for a specific flavor of Waterdhavian tea Gale brews for them both sometimes. He's not exactly a connoisseur of tea, though, haha.

Average Sleep Hours: Far too few, haha. Eden tends to work himself to exhaustion rather frequently, and then keep going. Wyll and Gale have become experts at redirecting their husband's attention and convincing him to take a break and rest.

Dogs or Cats: Both! But I think Eden is overall more of a dog person, having grown up around them. Still, he adores Tara.

Dream Trip: When he was younger, Eden wanted to see Rosymorn Monastery, as his mother told him many stories of her studies there on her journey to becoming a cleric. However, as he got older, he became far more agnostic in his beliefs and the idea became much less appealing. He gave up on praying to Lathander after his mom's death, and now he feels mainly just... a vague sense of discomfort and grief when he thinks about the god he was raised with. This only got worse after seeing the monastery during his travels with the group.

So, now Eden wants to see Candlekeep. He desperately wants access to that expansive library and to learn all that he can. At heart, Eden hungers for knowledge above all else.

Amount of Blankets: So many. Eden is always on the chilly side, and that coupled with his chronic joint and muscle pain means he can only really sleep bundled up in a blanket nest. Wyll and Gale have had to make peace with their husband being a blanket hoarder.

Random Facts:

Yes, Eden has a fantasy phd. He basically got a degree in being a wizard... despite not having much ability to use magic himself. His magic is almost entirely from his warlock pact, as besides that he just can't use magic in the way a lot of other mages can.

He also has pretty serious chronic joint pain, made worse when he strains himself using his magic. It's a condition he inherited from his mother, and it's one he's learned to live with and how to accommodate for.

Eden's storyline is a mix of the normal tav story and the Dark Urge storyline. How so? Well. Before the adventure, Eden died, and he's only recently been resurrected at the start... minus many of his memories about who he is and what happened to him. So, on top of all the other shit going on, Eden has to figure out why his brain is full of holes.

Eden's father Abdiel is a very well-known and respected wizard, one that Gale actually was a fan of when he was younger. However, after seeing how horribly Abdiel treats Eden, Gale has left that adoration behind. Never meet your heroes, and all that.

(On a similar note, Wyll originally encouraged Eden to consider forgiving his father and reconnecting with him, which was the cause of a lot of conflict between them in the early days of their relationship. Eventually, though, Wyll came to understand *why* Eden doesn't want to forgive the man who traumatized him and abandoned him, and he respects and supports Eden's decision.)

(Gale and Wyll might or might not have an agreement to make sure Eden never has to even be in the same room as his father ever again. They'll keep him safe.)

[vacantgodling]

re. about

ren (or rimz for cool kids). he/him. twenty five. black. queer. neurodivergent.

i'm redoing this because i'm losing steam (thanks work) and i'm pulling back on a lot of projects to mostly focus on things that make me personally happy. as is the nature of my brain, i will still jump back and forth between projects when i lose the flow for another, but i’ve narrowed my important wips down to just three main ones. other projects are currently being shelved, or put to the side as half baked ideas that i still need to keep in the oven before i introduce them to anyone formally.

(so if you don’t see a wip listed in the wips tab, it’s either shelved indefinitely or i want to work on it on my own for a bit. you can ask me about my other wips if you know/remember them but i can’t guarantee i’ll answer about them at this time. this also doesn’t mean i won’t ramble about them when i feel like it.)

important sideblogs = no pressure to follow just fyi

@babylonsfalling -> all my fandom and other nonsense goes here

@todazzlingreading -> this is a personal checklist for things i want to read by y’all that i don’t have time or spoons to get to at the moment i see it. once i read a post there i’ll delete it from that blog and rb it over here with any comments in the tags :3

to find my art commissions, please look here: https://www.tumblr.com/vacantgodling/715216537870532608/commissions-are-open

re. disclaimers / interaction

i mainly write fantasy; it’s a broad overarching label that covers all of my interests and it’s my first love in writing. horror and horror adjacent elements always make an appearance in my works. i emphasize complex mlm relationships and male leads, and romance is a great love of mine as you’ll notice from the king of my current wips. worldbuilding is also a great love of mine. i also love writing smut and talking about my characters having sex.

as such some disclaimers: following me is a very much curate your own experience. i don’t want to hold back talking about adult and mature themes so if you’re uncomfortable with anything i talk about i’d just suggest you unfollow lol nothing personal.

i’m open to asks and talking about anything but there’s no pressure. anons are always cool. i’m probably not gonna do writing based tag games too too much bc writing has been nonexistent lately but character asks or ramble ones i will do :)

also, as a personal ask: please do not refer to any of my characters as babygirl or girlie(s). shit makes me squick thanks.

re. main wips

linked are the main tags & once i finish the wip intros for paramour and tcol (revamping them) i’ll link them as well. feel free to ask to be on the taglist for any of these (i’m going to do better with these) — taglists will be activated for all writing and official posts. this won’t include ask games or random babbling.

PARAMOUR || “saved” from an imminent social death through arranged marriage, HYACINTHUS SHRAPNEL is whisked away to The Chateau aux Aisles D’or, where an unlikely sexual relationship with his butler AMON leads to far more than he bargained for.

THE CHRONICLES OF LATHSBURY (check out the crash course HERE) || The Aegean Guild of Explorers, led by the mysterious newcomer to Lathsbury Madja Fandel welcomes its newest contingent after the guild bid: PIPER FAIRWIND a MBW with a fighting spirit and desire for money and glory, DEUX UNDERSHIELD a naive protector seeking answers for her brother’s spurn, SANDRA “SAN” DEARBORN a vicious hunter with a chip on their shoulder, CLEAR BRIGHTENDALE a medic with a host of dark secrets, and FORTE SYMPHONIA a ranger seeking his own destiny, are as ready as they’ll ever be to enter the fray, to conquer the mysterious and dangerous LABYRINTH. Forces that have been in motion since before their lives even began are finally reaching their peak, and the five of them will have to use everything they’ve learned and then some to stay alive.

re. navigation

talking -> musings and personal thoughts

about renjamin -> insight to me / who i am

ren analysis -> when i get meta about my wips

ren mix -> a treasure trove of my music taste

ren polls -> any polls i make

ren reads -> for my ramblings and analysis as i try to get back into books

friends tag -> talking with friends or boosting my friends work

others work -> boosting other writeblrs work

hall of fame -> praise / things that make me happy that i want to keep

ren writing -> all of my writing in one place

ren poems -> all of my poems in one place

ren fic -> all of my fandom related writing in one place

ren art -> all my art

q eh you eh -> queue

sex mention -> tag for any sexual content.

worldbuilding -> all of my worldbuilding notes across all my wips

find the word tag -> for this game specifically so i can find it

last line tag -> for this game specifically so i can find it

ren hot cakes -> specifically for my overly opinionated opinions

writing recap -> tracking my writing journey so i can hold myself accountable

[nomeniko]

mew mew 12 16 19 for the artist ask game meowing at you meew

VINNNNNNN HELLOOOO THANK UU

12. describe your process while drawing

i think this was the one question i rly wanted to ans out of the list, only bc ive been told multiple times that my process is like that of a maniac LMAOO

p much just this: vague scribble, lines, and color (which rarely happens atp, but if it DOES happen then it mostly stays as flats aka fill tooling my way thru). as close to freehand as i can possibly get

if the drawing im doing is more complicated then the first stage scribble just becomes more convoluted, but the process is the exact same

as a consequence i take a shitton of time while drawing (usually an hr on a simple colorless illus and ONLY on good days. otherwise ive gone past 2-3 hrs on most of the simpler drawings i do)

if drawing process meant everything beyond just the illustration then warmups r p much a given b4 i start any piece!!! my go tos r always cubes or freehand figures (1 min and a half each. the goal is to get used to the flow of it fo the day :3 otherwise my lines end up looking shit)

ive also been told that i draw like a warrior training. idk. i honestly kind of see it LMAOOO its abt forcing my way thru getting the lines i want

16. how do you motivate yourself to draw?

i honestly dont know!!! im trying to think of an ans, but im coming up blank

i dont even try motivating myself, it just hits when it wants to hit. once in a while i get an idea that i REALLY want to draw, so i do it as fast as possible b4 i lose interest; otherwise i can barely draw, and at those times i just let myself rest

the one thing i do have to thank is whatever im interested in at that moment in time. rn milgram took over my life, so everything i draw is just that. tbh b4 i got into milgram, i was demotivated w drawing for multiple years straight, so ive been burning out the time i lost not drawing in the past few months

ig the one thing i cld say helps w motivation is the idea of doing everything now. if i get an idea, i do it immediately, and thats usually enough of a motivator for me. holding off an idea and not drawing it p much guarantees that i lose interest. draw whatever u want whenever u want

19. where do you find inspiration?

other art i like (mostly online artists)!! i have a twt priv that i use solely to rb and bookmark pieces i like frm artists on there. i also have a camera roll album reserved just for inspo, and ig i rb things on this acc for other artists’ art as well

i like looking at what other artists do and applying it to my own drawings. sometimes its general artstyle, other times its the specific way an artist wld draw smth like hands or hair. id admit that ive taken inspo frm how artists compose their work as well lol

im not sure if my art is what ppl wld call inconsistent, but my main goal is to keep that inconsistency as much as possible; it helps w experimentation n lessens the pressure of doing art the same way all the time. its more fun that way imho :3

[seiwas]

sel sel sel!!! its been a while since i popped into ur ask box so i thought id thank u for ur rb on my gojo drabble here :3 i come w treats 🍵☕️🍩🍪🍰!!

but god sel u r. the sweetest in the universe i think?? i appreciate you so so much for working ur way through my masterlist 😥🥺 n taking the time to pick out lines and comment so thoughtfully on everything!! (pls dont feel pressured to keep going if its draining tho!!! just knowing that u enjoyed them makes me so happy!! <33) u always say the kindest things and u always Get it so well too… ur spoiling me w all ur bigbrained thoughts i love reading em sm <3

as always im so happy u enjoyed my characterization of our boy 🥺🥺 means sm coming from u!! i dont write for teen gojo v often but i see him and adult gojo as fairly different… to me teen gojo is in this state where hes detached, but still has some kind of hope that he can breach that distance and connect w others…. while adult gojo is totally resigned to the impossibility of anyone genuinely understand him </3 but thats also why i can see teen gojo having a crush and like. wanting to Act on it as opposed to adult gojo who feels one single ounce of intimacy and immediately backs off LMAO

im trying not to rant too much in ur ask box PHDJD but!! i rly do want u to know how grateful i am for u!!! knowing that u like my writing means the world to me 🥺😥 all ur comments r so thoughtful and u rly do always see exactly what im trying to do w certain lines n dynamics and its just :’3 yeah. im picking u up and spinning u around!!! i hope this week treats u w all the kindness that u deserve sel <333

ari omg?!!?! 🥺 YOU are so sweet coming in here, thanking me with this looooong and sweeeeet message 🥺

read ari’s drabble here

i am munching on all those treats 🥺 thank you so much 🥺🫶🏻

i am soooo far from completing your masterlist omg this is just the tip of the iceberg!! truly!!! i always save ur works for a time when i know i’ll be in the right headspace to read and process it 🥺 but!! i am always so excited and happy to leave my comments on your stuff!! i adore the way you write and characterise!! you deserve every bit of appreciation 🥺

YOU have a big brain pls. 😭 i agree that teen gojo varies so much from adult gojo & i think the turning point was probs suguru 😭 i love the hope you attach to gojo as a teen, how he still hopes for something amidst everything 🥺 it also just ACHES me to think that he’s turned a bit jaded as an adult and no longer thinks anyone will get him 😭

pls feel free to drop by w everything and all that you wanna share ari 🥺 i appreciate YOU so much for writing works like this, for also being so supportive of others’ stuff, for being sososo sweet 🥺 i hope u r getting all the love u deserve this week ily 🥺

[charlescoded]

Not saying I don't agree or anything but what does redbull being interested in Charles has to do with Carlos going more against the team, team orders or his negotiations not going so well? I just don't see the correlation...

I have to say I find it kinda interesting how Charles renovating is taking so long, but I honestly don't see him going anywhere. Even if it would be interesting having him in 'equal machinery' with Max, I just find it imposible for any top tier driver to want to go to redbull when they know Max has the measure of that team through and through, they would really need to be desperate.

it could all mean nothing/not be related at all tbh, everyone will draw their own conclusions, and frankly, i'm not the type of person who likes to make assumptions. but, and it's always going to be a but unless they outright confirm it (which is unlikely), i think it would be as followed:

red bull shows interest in charles, it doesn't have to be much, it can be as simple as 'hi, are you on the market?' (imo the answer should pretty much always be 'yes', even if they're not, simply because of the leverage it can give a driver/their manager when negotiating a contract). but now that rb has show interest, ferrari/fred want to assure that charles doesn't go to them (it's not a question of whether he would, it's whether he can) and start contract negotiations, at least publicly. the earliest mention of negotiations that i know of is from the 22nd of may.

now, why is all of that relevant to carlos? well, carlos' contract ends at the same time as charles', but now that rb has shown interest in charles, which contract do you think ferrari/fred are prioritising? carlos wants to stay with ferrari, he also thinks he's at the same level/better than charles. and in the past, he's had short term contracts before (toro rosso/renault) and therefor wants clarity for his future. i can't see him being too happy that his teammate is giving priority on that front, which could out itself with some of the things we've been seeing from him. for example, in austria he doesn't outright say he has more pace, but instead he implies that the pitwall can see that he has more pace. after the race, fred points out that carlos knew that the driver behind would 'seem' to have more pace because of the 3 drs zones and that they were always planning to keep them in the positions they started in (barring a switch at the start, i imagine), so why does carlos say it anyway? is he trying to sway the pitwall regardless of what was planned? is he publicly (because it's a broadcasted radio) putting pressure on them? does he want people to hear that he's the faster driver? maybe none of those, because we don't know, all we know is that it has happened, as well as other moments of discontent

this got wayyyy longer than i thought it would be, so i hope that makes sense, but if not, i guess the tldr is: charles' contract is being prioritised by fred because rb has shown interest in him, leaving carlos on stand-by.

--

i do think charles is going to stay, at least for now, but idk, it's a hard one when it comes to the second rb seat. if you think you're the best driver on the grid, you should be (or think you're) able to beat max in the same car. i mean, daniel wanted to be next to seb, who just won 4 championships in a row. valtteri/george wanted to be next to lewis, a 3 time wdc in 2017, and a 7 time wdc in 2022. is the rb & max combination really that more 'intimidating' (for the lack of a better word) that drivers are unwilling to get into a (or currently the) top team? i honestly don't know

[boba-beom]

smilesss c:

hiii! sorry i have been m.i.a for so long, but i finally made it, both flights were terrible, but it's okay because i have had such an amazing time so far. can't believe i'll be flying back in a week :/

OMGGGG how's it going with island guy, i hope you had an amazing time together ahh i'm so excited for the future updates of I Like U now, but take your time, no pressure!! is there something there between you though? did you feel anything?

that's true, thank you🥺❤️ i recently picked up my electric guitar now that i've come home and even though i haven't played in such a long time, i was surprised with how quick i picked up some songs or how easily i remembered others. it made me think about how sometimes there are some things in our lives that we stop doing because so many things get in the way and we lose touch with them, until we discover them again. the feelings i experienced when i was playing the same songs i used to play are honestly indescribable, it was as if nothing else mattered, but that beautiful melody. it made me realise how much i miss performing too❤️ i was wondering if that has ever happened to you too?

i just know beomjun would slay so hard, manifesting fr. when enhypen niki and jungwon did it, i was in awe and i couldn't stop thinking about yeonjun and beomgyu doing one. they could easily suit any genre, but i'm thinking something dark would look so good.

ooooh, i'm excited for the rest of your 80s oneshots - the taehyun one was just *chef's kiss*. and omg beomgyu's look for dream week lives in my head rent free - he looked like an 80s heartthrob. happy late beomgyu day btw🥺❤️

thank you so much smiles❤️, i'm just glad they're finally over. i hate exam season so much. it's always so stressful.

how are you doing though? how's writing going? i have this yeonjun oneshot that i've been working on for over a year now, it's so long and i'm almost finished, i just have three scenes left to write before i get into the editing process lol. i'm the type of writer that takes a long time to produce something and seeing how fast other writers produce pieces makes me feel a bit like i'm missing out? idk if that's the right word, but i wish i could write something good that fast sometimes, but i've also come to terms with the fact that everyone has their own pace when it comes to writing. some write faster, some write slower, but the end product is always amazing❤️

hi lovely, I'm sorry the flights were terrible, but how is it being home?

as for the island guy, he's coming next week I think, so we'll see if he'll come visit me or not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm not too fussed about it really. he greeted me on my birthday, not really a greeting, more like a banter "you're getting older" message but yeah other than that I don't really think anything is going on atm :/

that's so beautiful, april 🥹 I haven't played my guitar for a long while, so I feel like when I do have the time and get back into doing it, I would most likely rediscover that feeling again :') I love that for you though, I find it so satisfying when the muscle memory kicks in, yano?

thank you!! I just saw your rb and your feedback just made me so happy, thank you and I'm really glad you liked it a lot! I feel like I'm going to hinder the 80s fics for a little while until I'm satisfied enough with the amount of uni work I have to do for my coursework. my deadline is in 6 weeks and I don't want to rush things so that's why I haven't been as active on here :') happy late beomgyu day too! <3

as for your writing, take as much time as you need. it is for you after all and we just have the privilege to read people's shared works/imaginations. I'm rooting for you and I hope you tag me whenever you do post it <3 but you're right! everyone's writing journey is different but the outcome is always just as beautiful! and I'm doing okay! I've been busying myself! I had a uni trip last week and then went home for my birthday in the same week, so I'm a little exhausted lmao, so the past week I've just been staying in uni longer than usual and doing work which I'm happy with! beomgyu's birthday post was the last thing I've written for a while, everything else has just been in bullet points for now until I have time to write everything in full :> I hope you've been well since you sent this ask!

[bunny-rambles]

Greetings, dear author. Hope ur not too surprised i sent an ask? Haha, by the way, as always, no pressure for answering at all, or some of those. And no rush! Take your time.

For "((REAL)) writer ask" ask. Lmao. Bear with me here, please. Plus i hope its not too much questions for one person? If so feel free to cut some of those and ill send another one later.

1. ✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

2. 💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

3. 💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

4. 💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

5. 🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

Hello again 💞

✨) hm… well having a wonderful friend wanting to constantly read all of your old works and rb them makes this question a little difficult to answer ehe… uhm, but I would say maybe the xiao cat fic I did? It really didn’t get much attention, and the xiao piece I did before that also really didn’t do well. (I’ll link them both below) so probably those. It upset me quite a bit because I thought they were pretty good but it seems no one really shared my opinion

Just this once

Miao

💘) yes, many of my old works from the beginning of my time here, especially ‘that’s a little fishy’. I feel like my writing has improved significantly over the time I’ve spent on tumblr and I think that specific one deserves a rework because the prompt was so interesting to me !!

💫) ‘you’re such a talented writer’ or ‘wow your writing is top tier’ are some of my favourites due to the fact that I doubt myself a lot if I’m even good at what I do- so having some reassurance that I’m actually talented in some way, that some people can see worth in my words, that really means something to me <33

💋) due to my horrific attention span these days, I really don’t read all too much anymore and if I do, it’s usually on ao3. however, in the past, I’ve always commented about how the piece makes me feel and the events that happened that stuck out to me. Ooooh, or phrases they used that sound particularly pretty to me, I always love complementing on their use descriptions <33

🕯) this one’s rather difficult, but I suppose, go forward with the thought of not everyone is nice in this space, but not everyone is mean either. It’s a mixture of many different people all with a shared interest, and you’ll find someone to connect with over it at some point. And I think uplifting one another, commenting and sharing each other’s works, is really what glues the community together. It creates connections, helps the author feel good about themselves and their talent, overall it’s a very positive experience. I don’t have a lot of moots but the ones that I do make this experience far more pleasant, and communicating with others who share the same interests as you is precious :,). About anxiety, pace yourself and realise that this is not a race, it’s a marathon. You don’t have to push yourself to deal with negativity or rush to get content out. If it’s stressing you out, take a break or slow yourself down. You might find that’s exactly what you need sometimes !!

[yeongwonie]

STUPID CUPID! — 33

pairing. park sunghoon x f!reader

SYNOPSIS. alone on valentine’s day, you decide to sign up for the student council’s fundraiser: a matchmaking survey, hoping to at least get a few laughs out of the whole ordeal. little do you know, park sunghoon (your archenemy since junior high) has the same idea. but it’s fine! your student body president, kim sunoo, would never tamper with the matching system, right?

note. this is my formal apology for chapter 29 </3 i loved writing this so much even tho its literally my own smau i am the biggest sungy/n fan

+ please rb if u want to!! it rlly helps w/ tumblr’s algorithm :))

masterlist

⤎ prev | 33 — like it was (written; 1.2k) | next ⤍

AT 11:01, SUNGHOON FINDS YOU slumped against a tree in the school’s courtyard.

initially, it’s hard to tell, but when he sees you curled up, face half-hidden in the warmup jacket you’re clutching to your chest, he knows it’s you. he approaches slowly at first, then breaks into a light jog until he’s standing in front of you. he crouches down until he’s at your eye level, then, tentatively, a hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, tapping lightly in the hopes of waking you up. 

when you don’t stir, sunghoon examines your face more closely. your hair clings to the sides of your face, and your brows are furrowed. he holds the back of his hand a few centimeters away from your forehead and finds that even the air around you feels warm and clammy. 

lightly, his fingers move to brush a few stray hairs out of your face. the moment he makes contact with your skin, your eyes shoot open, and you blink up at him in disbelief. 

“what are you doing?” you ask, voice low from disuse. in a flash, he retracts his hand and moves backward in slight fear. somehow, you still manage to appear more than a bit intimidating, even though he’s just woken you up from your impromptu nap on school grounds. 

“sorry,” sunghoon mumbles, still squatting awkwardly in front of you. it’s a little unnerving, the way you stare at him in silence for a long pause (though, he supposes if he’d woken up to you in front of him, he’d have the same reaction). eventually, you sigh, then pat the space next to you under the tree’s vast trunk. 

slowly, sunghoon moves to lean against the tree alongside you, though he never lets you out of his direct line of sight. he watches your eyelids flutter closed as you let out a shaky exhale. for a few moments, he mirrors you, letting the warm sunshine of the late morning wash over his face. staring up at the thin veil of branches and leaves stretching across the sky, it’s not hard for sunghoon to see why you’d fallen asleep here so easily; he’d known you’d looked tired, and something about the atmosphere of the courtyard was strangely tranquil and soothing. 

while sunghoon watches the leaves rustle slightly in the light breeze, he thinks only of you. he and you had gone so quickly from close friends to strangers because of his cowardice, and now, it was far too easy for him to fall back into his old routines and find comfort by your side. it terrifies him, how easily he had sat down next to you despite years of trying to push you from the furthest depths of his subconscious. 

at the same time, he can’t help but wonder why it is you seem so exhausted. he wants to believe it’s only because of the pressure of this showcase. during your years “apart”, sunghoon thinks you’ve only gotten more admirable, though you’d always been someone who was willing to work yourself to your limit for the good of your team. still, another part of him knows it has to be a little bigger. the puffiness around your eyes betrays your clear lack of sleep.

sunghoon hopes you’re not losing sleep over him, as he does so often. 

lost in thought, a sudden weight on his shoulder is enough to make sunghoon jolt a little, then look down at you in surprise. your hair tickles the skin of his neck, and sunghoon is rendered helpless, frozen in utter shock. you’re still asleep, having effortlessly fallen back into your slumber minutes prior (your unbothered state is an almost comical juxtaposition to his panicked expression, he thinks).

and then, sunghoon realizes what he’d come outside to do.

“it’s past 11, now,” he murmurs softly, turning his head a little to look down at you. your eyes don’t open, but he continues, knowing you’re listening. “we should go.”

you shift the position of your head, pressing your chin more firmly into his shoulder while mumbling a light protest, and sunghoon feels the tips of his ears burn bright red. 

“come on,” he tries to say seriously, though the end of his order breaks off into a laugh. “i’m not going to carry you, by the way.”

“i would hope not,” you reply. at last, your eyes crack open, and you sit up straight, squinting against the sudden rush of bright light and schooling your features into a soft frown. after lingering for a few seconds, you push yourself to your feet and dust any dirt off of your practice clothes. 

you extend a hand to sunghoon, and he stares at it for a second too long before allowing you to pull him to his feet. one of your hands slips into your pocket and pulls out your phone, and once you look at the screen, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. 

“it’s 11:20?” you exclaim, voice rising in panic. 

sunghoon laughs a little, then places a hand on your shoulder, as though he’d sensed the sudden urge you felt to sprint the entire way back to the practice room. “don’t worry, he says, “coach said she only wants us back to help set up. don’t tire yourself out.”

“but,” you protest, brushing his hand off of your shoulder, “won’t she still be annoyed?”

“i don’t know, aren’t you the captain? i think you should get special privileges or something.”

“that’s really not how it works,” you say, a smile contradicting your seemingly bothered tone. 

side by side, sunghoon and you start to walk back to where your teams are probably waiting. he grimaces a little at the thought of setting up every single chair for the auditorium, but any negative feelings are pushed out of his mind by the sheer elation he feels just being next to you like this, as though no time had passed and nothing had happened to jeopardize your relationship. 

and just like that, the words flow out of his mouth, as easily as he wishes they had any time during the last four years. 

“about what you asked yesterday,” he begins, pausing in the middle of the walkway. “do you still want to know?”

you pause alongside him, and sunghoon scans your face, expecting curiosity or even eagerness. instead, you look pensive, and maybe even a little sad. 

“can we talk about this later?” you ask, and his heart drops. noticing his shift in demeanor, you quickly continue. “i do still want to know, i just.” you pause to swallow. “i don’t know if i’m ready to hear it, right now.”

sunghoon nods, because it’s all he can really do in the moment. he wonders what would’ve changed had he said something sooner, or if he hadn’t said anything at all and you’d continued on your separate paths like two parallel lines. with a grim look on your face, you turn and continue walking back to the dance room, leaving sunghoon to trail a few steps behind.

he decides then, for probably the sixth or seventh time (and a few years too late), that he will do everything he can to fix things. the prospect of valentine’s day in the near future looms over him like a vast shadow as he watches you walk ever further away.

✮✮✮

taglist (OPEN). @linoragi @msxflower @wonzone @vantxx95 @c9tnoos @abdiitcryy @w3bqrl @acciomylove @laiverose @shawkneecaps @jjunis @niorawr @chiyuv @gyusteez @theskzvibe @yeppeudau @atsumuluvbot @renjunvrse @saucytaehyung @cocoabeen @nomniki @ashxxkook @angelicncity @fairybangtan @fadedluvv @haoreo @love-4-keum @solarswonderland @emoworu @revemixer @hrjchive @sushiriki @hseungi @enaus @maeumiluv @blu3ming-hoon @soobin-chois @ifwtyun @sweetjaemss @luviehyck @angelbaby-rose @beomsun @tobiosbbyghorl @junqwonni @jungwonnieee @carayat @iovnyu @cyuuupid @dekusgirl @hobistigma

[fsrintaro]

what they need to hear from you

## ft. miya osamu, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi, akaashi keiji, kuroo tetsuro

## a/n. sometimes they just need a little love <3

[masterlist]

MIYA OSAMU just feels exhausted. setting his cap down on the shoe cabinet, he trudges with heavy feet to your shared room. upon seeing his fatigued state, you beckoned him over from the bed. osamu fell on his knees onto the floor, his head resting on top of your thighs while his hand drew small circles on your soft skin. "it's okay to be tired, love. take it slow, one at a time, hm? can you do it for me, sweetheart?" nodding his head against your thigh, the coolness of relief washed over him. it was scary to be vulnerable but over time, you helped osamu learn that he doesn't have to be strong all the time.

MIYA ATSUMU’S favourite way of cooling down after a long was laying between your legs, letting your fingers roam through the blonde tousles of his hair. sometimes, atsumu just wants to hear someone tell him that they are proud of him. not just because he was the top scorer of the game, but they want to be someone's pride for working hard to where he is. "you worked hard, 'tsumu. it's okay to rest, there is nothing wrong with that." a small contented hum sounded from atsumu's chest as he lets his head lull to the side to rest against your thigh.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI just isn't feeling himself today. nothing is going right for him and he is on the edge of losing it. as you looped your arms around his waist from behind in an attempt to comfort him, you noticed that he flinched at your touch. in that moment, he feared that you would be offended. he feared that it will come true -- that everything is his fault. "i'm here if you wanna talk, omi. i'll always be here for you, ready to listen." there it was, someone that was willing to listen. tears stung sakusa's eyes at the thought of being worth someone's time.

AKAASHI KEIJI ran his fingers through his disheveled hair for the umpteenth time. the pressure on his chest magnifying, taking a toll on his morale by the second. workload after workload, it didn't seem to keiji that he is clearing anything. the little clatter of a cup of tea interrupted keiji's spiral, making him peer up from the hands that were previously dragging down his face. you reached your hand out to weave your fingers through his hair, smoothing it to the sides to tidy up his tangled hair. hands settling at his cheeks, you pulled his forehead to your lips. "you're almost there, keiji. i'm proud of you." you whispered against his forehead, his eyelids falling to relax in your hold as he exhaled shakily.

KUROO TETSURO released a long sigh, leaning back into his office chair. eyes bored into the ceiling, his thoughts drifted to you. have you eaten lunch? did you miss him? kuroo's hand shuffled through his drawer to pull out his phone, its screen lighting up to show a picture of the two of you on a food date the previous weekend. a small ping from his phone had him shooting up from his seat, hands scrambling to open your message. a small smile crept onto kuroo's face as he stares at the picture of you holding a cute bowl of your lunch, along with the caption, "tetsu!! look at my lunch!! i can't wait to see you tonight, i miss you <3". god, he missed being around you.

likes and rbs are always appreciated <33

[multi-lefaiye]

tick, tock.

[ #FFF234: HOW IT ENDS ]

HIIIII hi <3 i have some writing to share, after about 500 years.

this was originally written for today's @/flashfictionfridayofficial prompt, HOW IT ENDS, but i ended up going way over the limit and didn't wanna edit it down. so. it's not part of that anymore. but i'm including the banner anyway bc i like it <3

so, for context, this is based on a specific scene in act two of baldur's gate 3, a specific interaction with wyll that i love so so much, featuring my tav, the tiefling eden linnaeus <3

content warnings: semi-graphic threats of violence, but honestly mainly just spoilers for bg3, if that's something you're worried about.

words: 1692

tagging the art taglist, bc no gods no masters (no pressure to any of y'all to read! <3 and if you want to be added or removed, please let me know): @skitzo-kero @anexor @presidentquinn @albatris @chaieyestea @astral-runic @kk7-rbs @jezwrites @whonsper @moonflowerrss @approximately20eggs @rosesandartss @lychniscitrus @invaderskoodge @transmasc-wizard @midnight-and-his-melodiverse

----

The projection of Mizora is every bit as imposing as the first time Eden saw her. She stands tall in the heart of his camp, his safe haven, her clawed hands on her hips and jagged teeth barely hidden by her rose-painted grin. As always, she stares down at him with clear disdain, crown of horns perched high on her brow. She has a smug air about her that says, You are beneath me, nothing more than a pathetic ant beneath my boot.

At this moment, all Eden wants is to rip that pretty face apart. If she ever gets the guts to actually stand before him, he might do just that.

Tonight isn’t about that, however. Tonight is about Wyll, who stands next to Eden with a resigned sort of grief on his handsome face. He bows beneath the weight of Mizora’s expectations, as always, and the ridiculous suicide missions she sends him on. Wyll is dutiful, kind, and deeply honorable, and she seems to delight in every torturous humiliation she lavishes upon him. Kill this devil for me (yes, Mizora), move this mountain for me (yes, Mizora), tear yourself to ragged pieces for me (yes, Mizora). It never ends.

Even now, she appears just to torment him, holding promises of freedom over his head that she has no intentions of fulfilling. His suffering is a game to her, one that he has no hope of winning.

One thing is abundantly clear: to Mizora, Wyll is little more than a dog, her loyal pet for her to keep on a tight leash and kick as she pleases. And he’ll always come crawling back to her, because he has no choice in the matter.

And that, Eden decides, is unacceptable. 

“Ta ta, pet,” Mizora coos, winking playfully at Wyll’s clenched jaw, the way he casts his eyes down at the ground. Submissive. Cowed. It doesn’t suit him. She waggles her dainty fingers at him in a wave. “And do make haste. I’d hate to have to ruin that pretty face of yours if you fail.”

Something inside Eden snaps.

“Wait,” he says, taking a step towards the devil. She blinks at him, clearly surprised that he spoke up. “What’s in it for him?” Mizora snorts.

“I thought I was quite clear,” she purrs. She holds up a finger for emphasis. “As per our contract, Wyll must do whatever I ask of him. And, now, he must rescue my stolen asset from Moonrise, or else I will rend his flesh from his bones and-”

“Yes, yes, we heard you the first time,” Eden cuts her off. “Save us the fucking theatrics, you winged sack of shit.” He waves a hand dismissively and rolls his eyes. “My point, however, is that I don’t see why he should do anything for you. You haven’t given him anything--isn’t that the point of a fair deal?” He’s treading dangerous waters, he knows, but he’s not backing down now.

The devil ponders his words, her expression twisted in fury at his insolence. Clearly, the bitch isn’t used to mortals who talk back. Finally, she asks cautiously, “What are you proposing?”

Mizora glares at him, and for perhaps the first time, Eden understands what it means to face down eternal damnation. Her burning eyes promise hellfire, but Eden meets her gaze unflinchingly. And as he does, he sees something he didn’t before: a spark of fear, of desperation, in her face. Mizora is scared. Whatever asset she needs Wyll to fetch, she’s fucked if he doesn’t get it for her.

There’s blood in the water. And, like a shark, Eden strikes.

“End your pact with Wyll.” The words seem to echo like a gunshot in the otherwise quiet camp. “He’s done everything you’ve asked as your errand boy, and you’ve done almost nothing in return. The contract has served its purpose, so if you want anything else from him, end it.” Distantly, Eden is aware of the others in the background, talking among themselves as they wonder if they should intervene. But Eden doesn’t care about that now. His focus is on the evil bitch in front of him, and the noble man behind him.

Then, Wyll’s voice sounds in the back of Eden’s mind, clearly terrified of where he’s going with this.

What are you doing? he asks. Eden glances at Wyll out of the corner of his eye and sees the man watching him with wide eyes. Wyll is terrified, that much is clear.

Trust me. Eden meets Wyll’s gaze, his face carefully neutral despite the pleading words. Please. Wyll hesitates for a moment, trepidation shining in his face. A heartbeat passes, and he nods, steeling his gaze.

I trust you.

Something in Eden’s chest warms at the words, at Wyll’s unwavering faith in him, and he turns his attention back to Mizora. She’s still glaring at him, but she looks unsteady. He’s clearly on the right track. He just has to keep digging.

“Why should I?” she sneers, and now Eden sees how defensive the gesture is as she crosses her arms. “You have no bargaining power, boy. Wyll made an agreement with me, and he’s obligated to-”

“Tick,” Eden says casually. “Tock.”

“What?” Mizora barks, furrowing her brow.

“Tick, tock, Mizora,” Eden says. He smiles at her, the expression baring his fangs. “Every second you spend bitching about what Wyll should do is another second you waste that we could be helping you.” His smile grows as he imagines sinking his teeth into Mizora’s flesh. “How long until the Absolutists destroy your precious asset, removing her brain and replacing it with worms? We’ll have to act fast if we’re to get there in time. By then, it may be too late.”

“You don’t-” Mizora starts in a snarl, her fingers curling into claws, but Eden doesn’t let her finish.

“Tick, tock.” He snarls back in a feral grin. “What do you choose? Tick, tock, tick, tock-”

“Stop,” Mizora growls.”

“Tick, tock, tick, tock-”

“ENOUGH!” Mizora cries, her voice a booming thunderclap that almost shakes Eden to his core. Almost. She staggers away from him as though burned by his words alone, raising her hands to hide her face. For a long moment, she stands there, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

Whoever Mizora needs saved from Moonrise, she’s clearly as important as Eden assumes if the idea of losing her is enough to unsettle the devil this deeply.

The devil takes a breath, shuddering as she collects herself. Finally, she lowers her hands, crossing her arms again. She glares at Eden, but there’s no heat in the expression now, not after Eden laid bare how desperate she really is. He glares back at her freely, his expression triumphant. He’s won, and they both know it.

“Fine,” Mizora says through gritted teeth. She takes a breath again, schooling her expression into a calm smile. “Fine. I will release Wyll from his contract.” It sounds like she’s forcing herself to say each word. Eden hopes it hurts her to say them. “After he rescues the asset.” She throws the last part out like a challenge, grinning viciously at Eden, and he only shrugs in response.

“Naturally,” Eden agrees easily enough. “That’s only fair, after all.” Something glints in his eyes. “When he rescues the asset, you will release him from his pact.” It’s not a request, and Mizora clearly knows it, based on the way her lip peels back in another snarl. “And if you even try to weasel out of this, I’ll personally ensure the Absolute devours you and your precious asset whole.”

It’s an empty threat and he knows it, but the flash of terror in Mizora’s eyes at Eden’s words tells him she believes him wholeheartedly. Good.

Mizora averts her gaze, clearly unsettled, and turns away from Eden to look at Wyll. “You’d better move quickly, pup,” she barks, desperate to cling to whatever power she has left in this situation. Eden decides to allow it, for now. “Looks as though we’re both on a time limit.”

Before Eden can examine her parting words, she disappears as swiftly as she arrived, the illusion melting into a puddle of black ichor on the stone floor. In seconds, the muck evaporates, leaving behind nothing more than a dark stain, a smudge of shadow in the flickering firelight.

The moment she’s gone, Eden lets out a breath of his own, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly. His heart pounds something fierce in his chest, his victory over Mizora lighting a fire in his veins just as much as it fills him with pure, exhaustive relief.

“I…” Wyll begins behind him, swallowing audibly. “Eden, I… Not that I’m not grateful, but why-”

“If you want to beat a devil, you have to beat them at their own game,” Eden says simply. He suddenly feels deeply uncertain, and he shifts as he crosses his arms. “And, well… you’re my friend. I’m tired of her making you play alone, so I’m gonna help you beat her.” That’s half the truth, anyway.

Eden turns his head to look at Wyll, and he’s nearly taken aback by the man’s expression of pure, unabashed awe. Wyll is looking at him like he’s the most remarkable creature in the world. There’s something else in his eyes, something else that Eden can’t quite identify, but the expression makes something stir deep inside Eden’s chest.

“We’re not out of the weeds yet,” he continues, smiling bashfully, “but this is a start. We’ll just have to make sure Mizora upholds her en-”

Before Eden can finish his sentence, Wyll surges forward and wraps his arms around the smaller man, pulling him into a tight embrace. Eden freezes in surprise, his words dying in his throat as Wyll buries his face in the tiefling’s neck. It takes a moment for him to realize that Wyll’s shoulders are shuddering, ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” Wyll says, his voice watery with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

There’s a million things Eden could say in response. But instead, after the briefest moment of hesitation, he just hugs Wyll back, holding his friend gently.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry’s your soulmate and you don’t quite know that yet.

a/n: hello angels! i bring you soulmate!harry for my loveliest friend @sweetcreatureinthedark​ ‘s fic party! i chose the prompt “i’ve been in love with you, i’ll be in love with you.” i’ll be honest, this was tough to write, and somewhat was testing my writing abilities lol, but we made it through and I love it! so i hope you all do too! be kind and pls leave feedback and rb! :’)

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading and putting up with the mess lol love you always <3

WORD COUNT: 15.4k of friends to lovers, soulmates, physicaltherapist!harry x professor!yn

WARNINGS: slight angst, mentions of heart condition and flatlining

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘YOUR BEATING HEART’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

There was a saying that your Nonna had always said to you ever since you were a little girl, one that she made sure was ingrained into your mind for the rest of your life. 

‘Someone is destined to your mind, soul, and heart.’

Your mother, Kath, had told you that she had repeated those words ever since you were barely a year old. Nonna had said them so much that they could’ve practically been your first words. She would say that statement along with: ‘There is someone out there who already loves you, they’re just waiting for the right moment. That right moment will be up to the universe.’ 

The concept of soulmates has been around for thousands of years, and Nonna was such a sucker for it. Having met hers when she was sixteen years old, she made sure she taught her family the power of having a soulmate. She told Kath that if she wasn’t around for you, then Kath was supposed to teach you. Luckily, she’s still around though because that woman is one of the best you’ll ever know. 

When you were old enough to go to school, the teachers taught you about soulmates as well. When you turn thirteen, you’re able to find who your soulmate is because the power inside of you ignites, guiding you through the world to find your person. The universe was…weird like that; teaching children that they were going to find love at such a young age. You were taught that you were born to be loved by someone, and since you didn’t know any better, you listened. Nonna then started to explain the meaning and importance of soulmates. You were fascinated by it as she would explain it so enthusiastically to you while you listened with wide and curious eyes, making sure you didn’t miss a single word of what she said. 

As a shy ten-year-old, you couldn’t wait till you were older so you could find your soulmate, thinking it would be a fun adventure to see who you would click with. Nonna always said that ‘when you know, you know.’ 

Once you hit seventeen, however, you slowly believed less and less in the idea of a soulmate, and maybe that was because you were trying to force the feeling of trying to click with every person you met, but you lived through your adolescent years listening to your friends rave about how their soulmate was so perfect when yours hadn’t even shown up. They were all smiles while you were all frowns, a disappointed look was planted on your face when you would come to realize you were probably going to be alone and that the universe had forgotten about you. 

At eighteen, living in a world of soulmates, you believed you didn’t have one. 

That’s how you lived your life. 

When you went to college, the idea of being bound to another person was pushed to the back of your mind and you started to live your life more freely. You didn’t have the constant pressure in your head, telling you to find your one true love because you believed there wasn’t a ‘one true love.’ Your Nonna was a bit sad to see you live thinking that no one was out there to love you, but you realized that you didn’t want to sit and wait around for the perfect person, you wanted to venture out. 

Throughout college, you lived…a lot. You met new people, hooked up a bit, and didn’t have the recurring thought in your head about your particular soulmate.

That was until you met Eric. 

You met him your last year of college; and he was a year older than you. You met him on campus while he was meeting up with one of his old professors whose classroom you just happened to be in as he walked in, and you had immediately taken a liking to him. Besides the fact that you were sexually attracted to him, you didn’t think you would see him again until you met him again at a coffee shop that was not too far from campus. Eric invited you to take a seat with him, to which you said yes, and the rest was history. You and Eric were together for three years. In that time you were able to find a stable job, and you lived life together before he proposed to you. You thought life couldn’t get better than this--you had the greatest fiance and a job you didn’t hate, which was teaching Anatomy at a community college. 

Eric had made you believe in love. Soulmates, however? Not quite. Although at times it felt like he was your soulmate, that was just you trying to force something again. He was your soulmate without all of the characteristics a soulmate would have. 

Nonna had always told you that your eyes would sparkle while looking at them, so intently to where you couldn’t stop staring at them, thinking you two were the only ones in the room even with so many people around. That you would feel the spark igniting between you and your soulmate, causing your body to feel warm as the physical pull would bring you together. That your heart would beat ten times faster when you knew who that person was, and that the erratic beating wouldn't seem to stop because your soulmate’s heart was also beating at the same pace. 

When it came to Eric, you were able to look away and you were aware of your surroundings. When you were close to him, you didn’t feel that magnetic pull. When you looked at him, your heart seemed to calm down to where you didn’t feel like it was pounding through your chest. When you looked at him…you didn’t think he was your soulmate anymore. It’s crazy to even think that you thought he was before when you didn’t believe in the concept, but there was no attraction or pull towards him, and the timing could have been better. Actually, it could be so much better. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” you muttered into the mic as several gasps were heard from the family and friends that had gathered for the moment. 

You were dressed in a white, lace dress with a veil clipped onto the top of your head. It was your wedding day, and you were telling the supposed love of your life that you couldn’t marry him anymore because the thoughts about soulmates had barged inside of your mind during Eric’s vows, making you think thoughts that you wished you wouldn’t, but you couldn’t help it. Eric wasn’t your soulmate, and you damn well knew that you weren’t his either.

“W-What are you doing?” Eric whispered as he looked at you with wide eyes that told you not to embarrass him right here, right now. 

“I’m so sorry, Eric. I can’t marry you,” you said more clearly, not really telling him but also telling the crowd. 

The officiant of your wedding was your friend, Vic, and she looked at you with a shocked expression as she was just as speechless as everyone else. You knew they didn’t have to say or ask anything for you to know what they really wanted to say; they wanted to ask you what you were doing and what caused the sudden decision to not marry someone you’ve been with for four years. 

You could ask yourself the same question. Better yet, you would like to ask the universe why, especially on your wedding day, why they decided to suddenly pop inside your head, reminding you all of the bullshit people feel when they find their soulmate. 

Eric looked at you with worry, eyes slightly watering as if it was his worst nightmare come true. But you couldn’t carry on with this while neglecting the feeling that was inside your heart and mind. You couldn’t marry him as those thoughts were screaming at you, telling you that you made the wrong decision. Those said thoughts were telling you that your true soulmate was out there somewhere, physically and emotionally hurting because their soulmate decided to marry someone else. Your marriage would be ruined entirely if you went through with it. 

“I-I’m sorry…” is what you said to him with a pout on your face as he shook his head. You started heading down the aisle, ignoring the disappointed, sad, and angry looks your guests, especially his family, were giving you as you walked away from the altar that held the man you had given four years of your life to.

Once you reached the middle of the aisle, you started to jog. Picking up your dress so you wouldn't trip over it, you started to run as you couldn’t take the way the people were looking at you. 

Without glancing back, you headed over to the black Mercedes that waited for the newlyweds on the curb. Your driver, Jackson, had turned around in his seat, smiling but when he didn’t see the groom, his smile disappeared, also noticing that you had a disappointed look on your face as well. You found a clean napkin on the side of the door, asking him if he had a pen. 

“How long are you willing to drive?” You asked.

“I’ll take you to wherever you need me to,” he replied. You smiled gratefully, writing down the address that made you feel at home before handing him the napkin. 

He immediately started the car before typing in the address into his phone, driving away from the venue that had relied and counted on you being a wife today. 

And you didn’t regret your actions for one second. 

Soft, cold winds rushed through you as your skin pebbled from the sudden draft while standing against the white wooden railing of the balcony in the main bedroom. The calm waves immediately put you at ease from the anxiety that you were feeling hours prior, as harsh thoughts pushed their way through your head, telling yourself that you were a disappointment—that you disappointed everyone at the venue. 

The shakiness of your hands was replaced by the grasp of the railing as you looked out to the distant sunset. The day wasn’t all that sunny, since the sun was setting behind the clouds. There weren’t that many people out on the beach either, but you were glad because you needed to feel like you were the only person on this Earth. 

Coming to the beach house was the first thing that came to your mind when you decided to walk out. You knew that Eric wouldn’t find you here because he didn’t know about it, plus you just wanted to be alone without the constant questions that came from your ex-fiancé and your family. 

You felt bad, of course you did, and you didn’t know how to begin explaining to Eric that he was just someone that you couldn’t marry because the previously pushed thoughts had come back to your mind right as you stood at the altar. But right now, you were wallowing in fears that overtook your mind, thinking that everyone was going to absolutely hate you, which you think they did anyway once you walked out. 

Setting the wine glass down onto the railing, you looked down at the few pedestrians who walked by on the beach, getting in a last-minute venture before it got too dark. You smiled, thinking about the soulmate crap the universe had made you think about your entire life because any of these people could be the person you would love for your entire life, and you wouldn’t even know. 

You groaned to yourself, leaning your body away from the railing and putting your forehead on your forearms. You stayed there for a moment, thinking about how exhausted you were, especially since wine makes you tired, including the long day of getting ready all for nothing. 

When you stood back up, you had accidentally knocked your glass over the railing, the glass barely making a sound once it landed on the sand. 

“Fuck…” you looked over the railing to see where your glass landed before you headed down the stairs. Once you made it near the bottom, you hadn’t seen the last two steps because they were covered by sand, so you completely fell on your face into the sand, making you gasp loudly from the sudden fall.

Laughing hysterically at your fall as you felt the embarrassment on your cheeks, you rolled over onto your back as you closed your eyes and laughed until you cried. You covered your face as you began to sob, feeling truly sorry for yourself. You never meant for this to happen. You were supposed to be happy, and you were sure you ruined someone else’s happiness. 

After a few moments, you got up and brushed the sand off your clothes and face, and shook your hair so the excess sand could fall out. You sniffled, walking over to where your wine glass landed before your phone rang in your pocket. It was your mom calling, and you knew you couldn’t ignore it. You were planning to ignore everyone’s calls and texts before you went back to your hometown in just a few days, but it was your mother--you couldn’t hit decline, especially right now. 

“Hello?” You answered. 

“Hi, my lovely. You okay?” Kath was surprisingly calm because you thought she would’ve been freaking out. 

“Hi, Mom. Yeah, I’m good.” You walked back to the stairs and decided to sit on the bottom of the steps as you watched the calming ocean in front of you. 

“Can I ask where you are?” She asked hesitantly. 

“I’m at Papa’s house and I’m safe. No need to worry,” you reassured, smiling softly, even though she couldn’t see you. 

“Okay, good. I figured you were there. I understand you need space, but call me if you need anything, got it?” Kath was always a worrier, like every mom, but she seemed to worry about you a lot more than usual. 

“Got it. Love you, Mom.” 

“Love you too, my lovely. Oh, and,” she caught you before you were able to hang up. “I get why you did what you did, and I’m not mad. You’ll find them soon, okay?” Your eyes watered a bit, and you nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. You heard Kath blow a kiss through the phone before she hung up. You always loved how your mom was always able to understand you without you having to say anything at all. She was great like that, and you loved her dearly for it. 

Pressing decline to what felt like the hundredth call from your in-laws and friends in the last two weeks made you roll your eyes and want to turn your phone off completely. 

You knew that you had to call and text these people back eventually, but right now, you didn’t want to explain. You already had the anxiety from your actions weighing you down already, and these people would most likely scream over the phone as they demanded an explanation as to why you did what you did, and you really didn’t need that at the moment. 

All you wanted to do was go back to the beach house and sit on the balcony as you watched the ocean; all far away from your problems. 

You were unofficially a single woman, and you could look at all the men and women you wanted now that you were single. The nagging voice in your head was constantly bothering you, leaving you no room to think about what you might say to Eric when you meet up with him. He had stopped calling you a week ago, and since you weren’t entirely cruel, you shot him a text, saying that you were fine and that you’ll talk to him when you were ready because quite frankly, you needed to wrap your head around your thoughts. He was a sweetheart in that way, giving you space when you were the one to walk out on him and needed to explain things. You truly didn’t deserve him. 

Unlocking the door to Nonna’s house with your spare key, you found her sitting on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Nonna,” you greeted, and she perked her head towards the door. 

She softly smiled, getting up from the couch before she walked over to you. She didn’t greet you like she always did, which made you a little nervous because you thought she might be mad at you, but when her arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into a hug, you relaxed. 

“Hi, Chip.” Her nickname for you came out with a smile against your shoulder. She had started calling you ‘Chip’ ever since you were a toddler. You had always wanted a bag of chips to munch on, and the nickname seemed to stick because you were still the same. 

Nonna pulled back, guiding you to sit with her on the couch. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she asked as she pouted, giving you a look of concern. 

You smiled to ease her worry. “I’m doing okay. How are you?” You grabbed her hand from her lap to hold it, the gesture making her smile a bit. 

“Okay as well. Worried about you. Haven’t seen you since the wedding…” 

You huffed out. “Yeah, Nonna, I just wanted to say I’m sorry-” 

“Chip, what do you need to be sorry for? It wasn’t like it was my wedding. I understand why you did that,” she reassured you. 

“You do?” You looked at her with a soft look. If there was anyone that you wanted approval or reassurance from, it was your Nonna. 

“Of course, I do. Look, I know I told you about soulmates ever since you were younger, and throughout the years, it pained me to see you think that you didn’t have one. So, I didn’t push the idea onto you anymore. I wanted you to live your life, and when you met Eric, I thought he was nice, but I just knew he wasn’t the one,” she explained, making your brows raise. 

“You knew?” Nonna nodded. “H-How?” 

“Because you would’ve told me right away when you met him. You would’ve told me that you felt everything that I had told you for years, and suddenly when you met Eric, you didn’t talk about those things. I knew on the outside, you made it seem like you weren’t into the idea of soulmates, and that may be the case, but I know deep down that you still care about it. You want someone to cherish you and love you as we all do. You were excited up until you were seventeen because your friends had found theirs already, and all of a sudden you didn’t care. I know you’re still looking, but just wait a little, yeah?” Nonna always had a way with her wisdom, and she had that kind of intuition that made you feel a little less worried. The words that came out of your mouth weren’t much of a shock to you because Nonna was smart like that. You hadn’t realized all of the things she had picked up throughout your relationship with Eric, but you were grateful that she caught those things because it made it easier to talk to her. 

“You know way too much, stop,” you joked, making her laugh. You laid your head on her shoulder, embracing the moment with her as you thought about how grateful you are for her. She was truly the closest person to you, and you didn’t know what you would do without her. Suddenly, the doorbell rang as she got up from the couch. “Expecting someone?” 

“Must be my personal delivery boy,” she raised her brows teasingly, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. She had always mentioned someone dropping by to drop some things off from her next-door neighbor, and yet, you hadn’t met this neighbor of hers. Nonna opened the door and the person behind it wasn’t someone you were expecting. “Oh, thank you, dear!” She grabbed the set of glass bowls. “Would you like to come in?” 

The man behind the door said, “I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“No, please! Come and meet my granddaughter.” Nonna opened the door wider, so her guest could look into her house, and that was when he saw you, standing in the entryway with your mouth slightly open. “Harry, this is my lovely granddaughter--the one I’ve been telling you about.”

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he said breathlessly. His gaze was trained right on you, and Nonna looked between you two as the both of you looked at one another with shock. 

“Hi, uh, Y/N,” you shook his hand as you were quite speechless. He was quite attractive and looked young. He had short, curly brown hair that was pushed back with a red patterned bandana. He wore a black Nike jacket, shorts, and running shoes. 

There was a moment of silence between you two as the both of you looked at each other. His expression was soft as his eyes seemed to burn into you, making you captivated by his stare. It felt like time had stopped for a moment as you two looked into each other’s eyes, trying to map out what the intent stare really meant. Could it be? Before you allowed yourself to feel the imaginative spark, you broke out of your trance, placing your head down as you thought for a moment. He cleared his throat to relieve the silence as he scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere other than you. 

“I’m just going to put these away,” Nonna broke the silence as she smirked to herself while leaving the room and to the kitchen before you let out a breath. 

Harry smiled amusingly, chuckling a tad bit. His dimples popped out when he did so and you thought he was the cutest thing to ever walk the Earth. You walked closer to him so you were in the spot Nonna was prior as Harry was still standing on the doorstep. 

“Hi,” you simply greeted. 

Harry’s smile widened. “Hello.” 

“So, uh, how do you know Nonna again?” You asked curiously, tilting your head as you placed your hand on the doorknob on the other side, leaning against the door. 

“My mum lives next door actually. She and Tallie are quite close friends, so I would see your Nonna every time I would visit Mum, and Mum would have me bring things over sometimes—whatever the two talked about,” he explained, and you nodded understandingly, thinking that it was truly a small world. 

“How long has your mom lived there?” You wondered. 

“About a year and a half now,” he answered. Your brows furrowed as you were genuinely confused about why you haven’t met Harry before because you would always visit Nonna. He looked at you oddly as well, wondering the same thing. 

He’s known Tallie ever since Anne moved next door, and also found it strange that he’s never met you before. Tallie had mentioned her daughter, which was your mother, and has met Kath before--many times. She also mentioned you briefly, but he’s never seen any pictures of you, so he wouldn’t have recognized you if he met you. 

“That’s strange, isn’t it?” You suddenly asked, and Harry nodded his head. Before he could say anything more, Nonna walked into the room. 

“You kids doing okay?” She asked, and you smiled at her, nodding your head. “Do you two want to make some bread?” She suggested enthusiastically. You and Harry both chuckled, looking at one another briefly before you both said yes. Nonna clapped her hands, urging you two to follow her into the kitchen. “The dough has been resting for an hour already, so if you two could do me a favor and knead it for me, that would be great.” 

After the three of you washed your hands, Nonna instructed you on how she would like her bread to be shaped like breadsticks. You and Harry complied as she was making the butter. 

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” He sparked up a conversation as he kneaded the dough; you were doing the same. 

“I teach at the college about an hour away. Anatomy and Physiology professor,” you said humbly, and his brows raised. 

“You sure know a lot about the body then…” he suddenly pointed out, eyes widening immediately as he stopped kneading. “That was really weird, I’m sorry.” You laughed loudly as he cringed at himself. “I was just trying to state the obvious since you studied anatomy, and it went smoother in my head.” His cheeks turned into a pink tint color as he scratched his neck--something that you already noticed he did when he felt nervous or awkward--feeling the embarrassment rush through him. 

You chuckled, looking up from the dough. “No worries. You’re…cute.” Harry didn’t say anything but shyly smile. 

“What about you?” 

“Besides living in general,” he started, and you laughed. “I’m a physical therapist. I work at the hospital downtown.” 

“Ah, interesting. So, you would know a lot about the body too then, huh?” You teased, placing his words in your mouth. 

Harry genuinely laughed loudly, filling the kitchen with his sounds. “Perhaps I do. That was a good one,” he said once he calmed down from his laughter. You beamed at him before you studied him a bit, trying not to get caught. 

You were so caught up in how focused he looked while kneading the dough, and the way his lips curled in as he rolled it between his hands. His hands were naked from the rings that you had seen prior before he took them off for this task, but the way his hands were built and what they could do had you limitlessly daydreaming for what seemed like forever. They looked strong, but they were pretty. The orange nail polish contrasted between the bulging veins in his hands, leaving a very fine line between it all. 

If you looked any longer, you would be drooling at the thought of this man’s hands, but luckily, Nonna tapped you and by the look on her face, she had caught you eyeing her delivery boy. “Yes, Nonna?” 

“Might wanna speed up the process, yeah?” She suggested, with her voice in a teasing manner. All you did was nod as you huffed out a chuckle before proceeding. 

After a bit more conversation with Harry, the dough was finally going into the oven, leaving an excited Nonna while Harry was placing the tray onto the rack. 

“Tallie, I would hate to not try the bread after it’s done, but I should probably get back to my Mum…” 

“Oh, go ahead, dear! I’m sorry to keep you for so long. I’ll be sure to bring some by when it’s done.” She reached up to hug him. “Be sure to tell Anne I said thank you for lending me the bowls, and thanks to you for delivering it.” 

“Always a pleasure. I’ll see you soon. Uh, Y/N,” he called out as you gave him your attention. “Walk me out?” You smiled, nodding your head. Harry said one last goodbye to Nonna before you followed him out of the house. 

“It was nice meeting you,” you told him, walking onto the sidewalk. You two were walking slowly since Anne’s house was right next door, and it seemed like you two wanted more time with one another even though it wasn’t said out loud. It was like you two already knew. 

“You as well,” he said honestly. You were standing right in front of you in Anne’s driveway, not quite wanting to leave just yet. 

Your heart started racing uncontrollably fast as you looked up at him. His green eyes still shined bright in the gloomy sky that looked like it was about to downpour any second, but they had caught your eye immediately, and you were completely lost in them. You weren’t able to look away and think how alluring his trance was. Your mind had stopped itself from long jumping into the conclusion that was begging you to finish the story, so you pulled your stare away instantly. 

“Uh, well. I’ll see you soon probably?” You asked, backing away from him. Harry slightly frowned but made sure not to make it obvious. 

“Yeah, you will,” he nodded, stepping back as he offered a friendly smile. 

“Bye, Harry,” you waved at him before you turned around and walked away. 

Harry walked into Anne’s home and straight to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm down, heart beating outstandingly out of his chest that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. When Harry walked into Tallie’s home, his heart was beating ten times faster ever since he saw you. He simply couldn’t stop staring at you, and the only way he stopped was when you had broken the stare. He definitely felt the spark there, and he wondered if you did too. He sure hoped so because he had never felt that strong of a feeling inside of him with anyone else. 

Anne walked into the kitchen once she heard the commotion from upstairs, and saw her son leaning against the counter, head down and eyes closed, and that’s when she began to worry. 

“Harry? Love, are you okay?” She ran to his side, placing her hand on his arm. Harry continued to take deep breaths, increasing Anne’s concern. “Answer me, please. You’re scaring me.” The sound of her voice was breaking Harry’s heart as he never wanted his mother to be concerned or scared, but naturally, as a mom, it was her job to be. 

“Mum, it’s her. It’s really her,” he breathed out a laugh as his voice was strained from the lack of breath he had. 

“What?” 

“Her name’s Y/N. She’s Tallie’s granddaughter. My soulmate.” His eyes watered that was quickly followed by slight tears that streamed down his face, feeling so overwhelmed by the joy that overtook him. 

“She’s here, huh?” Anne had tears in her eyes as she felt extremely happy for her son. All the heartbreaks and search for his soulmate had ended once he met you, knowing that it was going to change his life forever. Harry nodded, brushing the tears away from his face. 

All the signs were there; the gleaming stare, the spark that shocked him, the magnetic pull between you two, his heart rate rising, and he felt like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. That’s when he knew. 

You were his soulmate. 

The rain had poured down quite heavily as Harry ran inside the apartment complex with his small umbrella that had barely kept him dry. 

Shaking the excess water on his umbrella and wiping his shoes onto the floor mat, he rushed towards the open elevator before it closed because it always took a while to land in the lobby. 

“Hold the doors, please!” He called out, quickly running his fastest while trying not to slip. A hand was seen between the doors as the doors reopened. Harry got into the elevator, taking a deep breath. 

“Harry?” He looked back at the other person who was in the elevator, and you were softly smiling at him as you took off your hood. You were wearing a burnt orange raincoat that he thought looked absolutely adorable on you, a university sweater underneath, black pants, along with black leather boots. Your eyes lit up at the presence of him, making him smile widely, feeling the attraction from you once again. 

“H-Hi,” he stumbled over his words, to which he mentally slapped himself. He cleared his throat, “How are you?” I miss you, he wanted to say. It had been about two weeks since he last saw you at Tallie’s house, and considering you were his soulmate, that seemed like a very long time. There was no doubt that Harry had been on your mind since you met him. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you overthink every possible thing he could mean to you. It was crazy to think that he wouldn’t leave your brain considering you had just met him. You concluded that Harry was just an attractive man, the first man you’ve ever looked at that way since Eric. 

“Good!” You said too overly excited, making Harry chuckle at your chirpy voice. You fake coughed, making your voice a tad bit lower. “Good, yeah. What about you?” 

“Doing great!” The elevator doors open, and Harry stepped aside, letting you in first before he followed. “Do you live here?” 

“Yeah, I do. This is me,” you stopped walking and stood in front of apartment 425 as you fiddled with your keys, nervously. You’ve been living here ever since you graduated college, and you didn’t fully move in with Eric because you planned to move in with him after you two got married, so luckily, you didn’t get rid of this place. “Do you also live here or are you visiting someone?” 

“I live here too. I’m actually on the floor above yours, like directly above.” Harry realized that he didn’t even press the button to his floor in the elevator. 

“525?” You asked as your brows furrowed. Harry nodded, giving you a small smile. “No way! Guess we’re neighbors…in a way?” You chuckled, and Harry grinned. 

“Guess we are,” he slightly giggled. 

“Uh, did you want to come in?” You asked. Harry’s eyes widened a bit, surprised by your offer, and you saw how shocked he was. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. It’s raining and thought it’d be nice to have some company.” 

“I’d love to. Thank you,” he responded, nodding his head. You smiled as you proceeded to unlock the door, stepping inside as Harry followed behind you. 

The layout of your apartment was the same as his since he was on the same side and right above you, but there was something about your apartment that felt like…home to him. He thought it had to do with the fact that it’s your space and you were in it because no one’s home felt like this besides yours. You had a few small potted plants along the windowsill along with a large one in the corner. Right next to the plant was a small wooden table with your red record player on top of it. A mustard yellow velvet couch was pushed against the wall facing the TV that rested on a white shelf bookcase that held many books and vinyl records in the cubbies along with random knick-knacks on the surface. A wooden round coffee table was placed in the middle with a vanilla candle on top of a few fashion magazines. Underneath the table was a white rug that looked warm to dig his feet in on a cold day. Three concert posters that were framed were hung on the wall, and he knew you were his soulmate because the three bands that you had on your wall were his absolute favorite; Fleetwood Mac, Queen, and The Beatles. 

His heart fluttered as he looked around, feeling like this was a part of you that he finally knew now. This part of you felt like home to him as he was immediately washed over with the feeling of comfort right when he stepped into your apartment. He felt so welcomed that it was going to be difficult for him to leave your space. 

“Make yourself at home.” Definitely home, he thought. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” You asked, taking out a saucepan from the cupboards. 

“I would love some,” he smiled, sitting on the couch where he could see you pour the milk into the pot. After a few moments, he saw you rush back into the living area. 

“Sorry, let me put some music on.” You kneeled on the hardwood floors to look at your collection before you turned your head back to him. “Any requests?” 

“Any Christmas song would be lovely and very fitting,” he requested. It was the beginning of December, and Harry was in the holiday mood. Plus, you were preparing hot chocolate, so it is more than appropriate. 

You smiled, nodding your head as you ran your fingers along your selection before pulling one out. Harry noticed the cover art as you pulled the record out.  Ultimate Christmas by Frank Sinatra played on the record player, filling the room with melodious tunes. You walked back to the kitchen before flashing him a smile. He sat on the couch and soaked in the music as he heard humming from the kitchen, and he grinned. Harry felt a warm feeling in his chest as he saw you stir in the hot cocoa into the hot milk as you hummed White Christmas. This moment right here and right now was something he wanted to experience every single day--where you would make hot cocoa as he would watch you with sparkling eyes, thinking how Frank Sinatra’s voice fitted so well with the holiday vibe. 

You came back with two red mugs with a bright smile on your face. “Do you mind placing the coasters on the table?” Your eyes pointed at the coasters underneath the candle. Harry nodded and placed two glass coasters onto the table, and he took a good look at both of them. One of the coasters stated ‘Be Kind’ in pink, and the other printed ‘Love Wins’ in multiple colors. He smiled, knowing the smallest things in your apartment was making him fall for you even more. 

“Hope you like it. I also should’ve asked what you liked with your hot chocolate but I just assumed you liked the same thing as me,” you chuckled nervously. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, but you think it had to do with the fact that another man was in your apartment that wasn’t Eric. 

Harry looked down at his hot chocolate. There were several marshmallows in the hot drink and a scoop of whipped cream with chocolate shavings to complete the drink. He smiled to himself as he took a sip, covering up his flustered demeanor. 

“It’s exactly what I wanted. I drink mine the same way,” he replied, and you smirked. 

“Glad I know a man with great taste,” you teasingly winked at him, and Harry nearly melted in his seat, and it for sure wasn’t from the hot cocoa because he wanted to reply with ‘More like your soulmate.’ He wanted to know what you were thinking in that beautiful head of yours. 

He wanted to know if you felt the same things he does. Did your heart beat uncontrollably fast every time he looked at you? Did you get sucked into a different dimension every time you looked at him? Did you have the urge to move closer to him, closing the gap between you two? Because Harry felt all those things with the simple act of you sitting next to him, and he really wanted to know if you felt the same way. 

You crossed your arms as the chilly weather rushed through you. “To be honest, I’m quite shocked that we live in the same building. I wasn’t planning on going back to Nonna’s until the end of the month, so I didn’t expect to see you.” 

“So, you were thinking about me?” He raised his brows teasingly.

“And if I was?” You decided to tease back but came out more like flirting. 

Harry paused for a moment, drinking his hot drink as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Then…I would say I was thinking about you too.” You nodded slightly, quickly grabbing your drink as you took a sip from it, hiding away your blush behind the mug. “What’s it like being a teacher? Can’t imagine standing in front of everyone and practically perform, I guess.” 

You breathed out a laugh, thinking the opposite. He had the look of a rockstar, and his name sounded badass. 

“It’s great. I try being their friend rather than a teacher because I feel like if they’re comfortable with me, they’ll retain and understand the material better. I learned that if you’re comfortable with someone, you’ll listen to them, so that’s what I did. And most of them are doing exceptionally well. Some of my colleagues are always surprised with how many students I get during office hours because I encourage using office hours and my email, so I’m quite busy,” you explained humbly. Harry admired your hard work and dedication, and he already knew you were a great professor just by what you told him. 

“So, what made you want to become an anatomy professor?” Harry changed the subject, feeling a bit flustered himself. 

“I was undecided with my major in college until I had to take a few science classes. One of them was anatomy, and I just fell in love with it. I really enjoyed learning it, and just fell in love with the subject,” you explained. 

“The professor part?” 

“My anatomy professor was the best. She made teaching look so fun and enjoyable. Plus, I’ve heard one too many stories about students having teachers who weren’t compassionate or sympathetic, and I didn’t like that at all. So, I wanted to be one of those teachers who made sure students learned and have a professor who was understanding,” you said humbly. 

“That’s very sweet of you. Unfortunately, I’ve had those professors who were pretty tough and not so compassionate.” You pouted. You always hated hearing or reading tweets when students would type out an email and express what they were currently going through to their professor, only for their professor to lack compassion and support to students who were trying to do their best. 

That’s why you wanted to become an educator. You wanted to make learning fun for your students and have them enjoy going to class rather than dreading it and being nervous to walk in. 

“What about you? What made you want to become a physical therapist?” You asked. 

Harry set his mug down onto the coaster. “The same as you. Something about bones and the muscles fascinated me and how they worked. I grew up loving sports, so that helped a bit, but wanting to help people recover properly was a main goal as well.” 

“You’re kind like that; someone who wants to help out others,” you complimented, and Harry blushed. 

“Thank you. It also has to do with the fact that one of my friends in secondary school, Max. He got injured pretty badly. He played football, or soccer, and he tore his ACL, which you probably know already, but it takes about six to twelve months to recover from that—physically and mentally. He loved the sport like no other, and couldn’t wait to get into it. His doctor cleared him when he was four months into therapy. Four. Doctor said he was looking good, so he cleared him earlier than usual.” Harry shook his head in disbelief as he told the story and you sat next to him, listening as your mouth was slightly open. “Like most of us, we listen to doctors more than we listen to our bodies. So, Max started to play again, and as expected, he hurt himself again…” he trailed off. 

You placed your hand on his knee, comforting him. You could tell that Max meant a lot to him, and by the way he was acting at the moment, he cared enough to dedicate his life towards wanting to be better to people who rely on him. 

“And he couldn’t play again. That was when I realized that I wanted to study the body. It was a long journey to get my doctorate, but I eventually got it at twenty-seven, and I’ve been working as a therapist for about a year and a half now; the same amount of time I’ve been here,” he said humbly. 

“That’s great, Harry. You must be so proud of yourself,” you offered him a smile. 

“I am, yeah. You must be too. Guess we both have a knack for changing some perspective, huh?” He softly smiled. 

“Yeah, we do.” 

Throughout the rest of the night, both of you got to know one another. You found out that you had a lot in common with him, such as your interests in the body (given both of your careers), movies and TV shows, books, and food; told each other childhood stories, and talked about your families. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t judge you, especially with what happened a month ago. 

It was nearing midnight as the time seemed to go by quicker than usual. After two more glasses of hot cocoa, Harry let out a yawn as he checked the time on his phone. 

“I should probably get going--let you rest up,” he said politely, grabbing his mug. 

You nodded, agreeing as you didn’t realize how late it was. “Okay. Oh, you could just leave it there; I’ll clean up.” Harry was too tired to debate, so he put the mug down before you walked him to the door. “I had a great time. Thank you for inviting me in and giving me hot chocolate.” 

“Of course. I had a lovely time as well. Maybe…we should do it again sometime?” You suggested. Harry’s eyes gleamed as he slightly smirked; a tint of pink formed on his cheeks. 

“I would love that.” You said a soft ‘okay’ as you smiled. He looked at you for a moment, noticing your eyes sparkling in the dim light of your apartment as you stared up at him in such fondness, making his heart melt in every way possible. Harry cleared his throat as he was so caught up in your stare that almost hypnotized him. “Well, you know where I live, so come visit if you want or maybe I’ll see you on another elevator ride,” he playfully joked, earning a giggle from you. 

“Sleep well, Harry,” you told him as he walked out the door, away from the space that felt most comforting to him. 

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile, and your knees nearly melted at the sight of his gorgeousness. Your grip on the door handle tightened, holding you up from falling to the ground. 

You waited for him to turn the corner to head to the elevator before you closed your door. Placing your back flat against the door, you covered your face as a rush of giddiness hit you as your face began to warm up. That was the most fun you had in a while, even if it was just as simple as a long conversation. 

You thought about Harry as you cleaned up and got ready for bed. Thinking about how sweet and kind he was. You never had met anymore who was so polite and nice while looking like that. There was no denying that you found Harry attractive--anyone with eyes could see that, but there was something about his inner aura and personality that you found extremely alluring and intriguing. You wanted to uncover and unravel all of his traits. That was when you knew you were collectively fucked. 

As you went to bed, you dreamt of his green eyes and beautiful smile; drifting off to sleep, unaware that your heart was completing the gaps of Harry’s heartbeat. 

Two weeks had passed since your first hangout with Harry, and you two had been hanging out ever since. Throughout those two weeks, you’d seen him at Nonna’s three times. The first time was unexpected, when you pulled into her driveway, you saw Harry helping her walk. Nonna had a sprained ankle from missing a step when she was walking down the stairs, and luckily, Harry was a physical therapist. Seeing the sight made your heart warm. The other two times were planned and you two decided to drive to her home together. It was very domestic of you two, and the level of comfort was something you never experienced with someone you just met. Nonna was happy to see you two getting along so well, she obviously knew something you were yet to figure out. 

It was nice hanging out with him, you thought. He was a great and funny friend that could make you laugh for hours. But he was also someone you trusted that you could talk to about anything. It was  bizarre to think considering you’d only known him for a short amount of time. Harry was just so open-minded, exciting, and new. Plus, you didn’t have many friends that lived close to you, so Harry living upstairs was just a walk in the park. 

You were getting ready to have brunch with Harry and Anne. It was your first time meeting her, and you were a bit nervous if you were being honest. As Harry’s friend, you wanted Anne to like you, and you really hoped Nonna had talked you up a bit. 

A knock was heard on your front door, and you took a deep breath before answering. Harry was standing behind it, wearing a plain white t-shirt, pink corduroy pants, and a black coat. Something that took you by surprise was that he was wearing brown tortoise framed glasses that fit him so well and nearly made you melt. 

“Harry, you look very…nice.” Your breath hitched in your throat causing you to choke up a breath as he was completely breathless. 

The corner of his lips turned up. “Thank you, so do you.” You smiled. Shall we go?” You nodded and followed him out, locking your door. 

The restaurant Anne picked was not too far from your apartment complex—about 20 minutes. The entire drive to the restaurant, you and Harry sang your heart out to ABBA, pointing at each other as you both screamed out ‘You can dance, you can jive!’ 

“Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Anne greeted you with a hug, and your nerves slightly dropped as she welcomed you with a hug. “Harry’s told me so much about you!” 

Harry gave Anne a knowing look as a way to tell his mum ‘don’t tell her everything,’ and Anne gave him the same look saying ‘I won’t.’ 

“I can’t wait to get to know you. Our table is ready,” Anne said as she pulled away from you. You nodded your head in agreement as you all followed the hostess to your table. 

Talking to Anne was something so refreshing. She was so sweet and kind, and you immediately knew where Harry got his best traits from. She also knew how to crack a few jokes here and there, making you almost spit your mimosa out or choke on your food. 

Harry watched you two interact and his eyes watched with so much fondness. His mum and soulmate getting along was something he was so grateful for because he wouldn’t know what he would do if you two hated each other. The interaction was so natural between you two that he thought you were going to be the best of friends. 

“So, I hope this is not a personal question, but have you found your soulmate, sweetheart!” Anne suddenly asked, and Harry choked on his water, making him cough reluctantly as he struggled to breathe. Anne rose from her chair as you gently slapped his back a few times to help him out. Once he was okay from his cough attack, he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Darling, are you okay?” She gave him a concerning look. 

Harry nodded, his face slightly red from the lack of air. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good, yeah.” 

“You sure?” You asked. Your hand hadn’t left his back, and you could immediately feel the tingly feeling that spread throughout your arm like his touch shocked you throughout. Harry nodded again, reassuring you and Anne. You turned back to Anne, realizing that she had an unanswered question. “Uh, back to your question—no I haven’t found my soulmate.” 

“Really?” Her tone coming out surprising. 

You nodded. “Yeah. I thought I did, turns out he wasn’t the one.” Harry was eyeing you nervously as he sat beside you. He gulped, wanting to know everything. 

“I’m sure you’ll find them soon, sweetheart,” Anne reassured, and you gave her an appreciating smile. “Your Nonna seems quite keen on soulmates,” she pointed out. 

You nodded. “Yeah, she is. She started talking about soulmates since I was young. She found hers when she was sixteen. Her and Papa’s love was so special. Unfortunately, he passed away about five years ago you explained, and Anne frowned slightly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, love.” 

“It’s okay! Feel like he’s always somewhat around. He owned a beach house that he passed down to me, and I go there every month, but I never change the furniture or take anything down, so it very much feels like he’s still with me,” you smiled as you told them. 

“That’s lovely, sweetheart. I’m sure he is, and I’m sure he’s proud of you.” You softly smiled at Anne’s words, appreciative of them. You felt Harry’s hand on yours that was resting on the table, and you warmed up at his touch. Turning your head towards him, you flashed him a smile and he sent you a subtle and innocent wink, making your stomach turn into knots. Luckily, you were sitting because you would have surely fallen if you were standing. 

“Where’s your beach house located, by the way?” Harry asked. 

“Monterey.” You answered and you noticed Harry’s eyes widen, glancing towards Anne. “What?” 

“I actually have a house there.” Now, that was new news. 

“Really?” He nodded. 

“Yeah, it’s in Pebble Beach. Where’s yours?” 

“New Monterey.” Pebble Beach was about a fifteen-minute drive from where your beach house was at, on opposite ends of the coast. 

Something was interesting about the fact that Harry was on the other side of your beach house. You’d been to Pebble Beach many times, sometimes walking the hour walk there to get away. If you hadn’t met Harry at Nonna’s, would you have met him at the beach house? 

You shook off the thought, realizing that Anne had changed the subject, so you listened. 

Brunch went by, and you were parting ways with Anne. You promised you would visit her when you visited Nonna, to which she beamed and hugged you tightly. Harry and Anne hugged, and they said ‘I love you’ to each other. Your heart warmed at the mother and son duo, thinking they had the best dynamic. 

You and Harry drove back to the apartment complex in comfortable silence, all the way up to his apartment. You two would take turns sharing your apartments because they both made a great hang out spot. His place was your favorite, though. The first time you stepped in it, you felt an immediate calmness to the disarray of what your reality felt like. It was like you never wanted to leave his apartment, simply wanting to cuddle into his couch with a soft blanket over you. You could possibly stay there forever, you thought. 

Harry made you both a cup of hot chocolate as it was starting to become thing for you both. It was nice; having a thing with you. It made him feel involved and important in your life. 

“Do you want to have an honesty hour?” You asked once he set your mug onto the coaster before he took a seat right beside you. 

He raised his brows. “Were you not being honest with me before?” He teased, and you nudged his shoulder. 

“I’m serious,” you giggled, and it was music to his ears. 

“I am too, but yes we could always have an honest hour. Tell me something.” He curled his lips in, and you couldn’t help but look at his mouth before you quickly glanced back up to his eyes. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“Whatever you want to tell me. I’d be happy to listen,” he reassured. You decided you wanted to tell him what happened a month ago with the whole Eric situation. It was something you could open up to him about since he wasn’t at the wedding, so you knew he wouldn’t judge you.

You smiled softly. “It’s funny how we live in a world full of soulmates, huh?” You started. Harry’s breath hitched into his throat. He started to feel anxious right as you mentioned soulmates that led him to be speechless; he nodded instead. “Well, my Nonna has been telling me everything about soulmates ever since I was born. She constantly went on and on about it--always asking me if I’ve found mine ever since I turned thirteen. I was excited, y’know? She hyped it up so much that I couldn’t wait until I was older to find my soulmate.” Harry gulped, not saying anything. He felt a ‘but’ coming in, so he waited until you were finished. “I went through my teenage years with my friends talking about their soulmates that had found them when they were fifteen or sixteen. I was the only one alone. I don’t know why, but the universe must hate me.” 

“The universe does not hate you,” he disagreed, shaking his head at the hateful words as he slightly frowned. 

“No, it does. When I went to college, I stopped believing in the soulmate shit. I dated whoever I wanted without that pressure. But there was this one person that almost made me believe in soulmates…” you trailed off, and Harry took a deep breath. Maybe she does feel all those things for me? He thought. “His name’s Eric. I met him my last year of college…and we’re engaged--or were engaged.” Harry’s eyes widened as they slightly watered. His heart pounded through his chest as if he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

“Y-You were engaged?” He stuttered, holding back his tears. 

“Yeah. I said the universe hated me because I ran out and left him at the altar. When he was saying his vows, I thought of everything Nonna had told me. The heartbeat, the stare, the pull, everything. I didn’t feel that with him, and it was shit timing as well, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t feel the same way for me too,” you explained before taking another sip. 

“So, do you believe in it now?” He slipped in the question. 

“I mean…possibly. I know there’s someone out there for me--maybe. But I really pushed back the idea of my soulmate ever since I felt left out when I was a teenager, so I’m not entirely sure what the exact feeling you feel when you see your soulmate because I just pushed it out of my head and forgot about it.” Harry nodded understandingly. 

It made much more sense to him, and you answered all of his questions. He knew that you weren’t feeling all of those things with him. It definitely hurt him, but he’d hoped that those feelings would come around soon because he’d sat right in front of you, waiting for the right moment to tell you that he was yours. 

“Have you seen him since?” He carried on the conversation, wanting to know all the details and information that he could get. 

“Since the wedding?” Harry nodded, and you shook his head. “No, I haven’t. It’s been about a month since I saw him last. I’ve just been texting him to see if he’s doing okay because I don’t know where his head’s at, but he told me that he would call me when he’s ready to talk, which I have to respect and understand.” 

“A month?” 

Your brows raised slightly. “Hmm, yeah, a month.” Harry's heart began to beat faster, and he clasped his hands together to prevent them from shaking. “I feel bad, y’know? I feel like I’m now painted as this horrible person, but I know I am-” 

“Hey, no, you’re not,” Harry disagreed, shaking his head. “You’re pretty amazing.” Your eyes lightened up a bit. “I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks, and you’re possibly the sweetest person I’ve met. You’re funny, smart, and really fuckin’ kind. You made a decision that was going to affect your entire life. That doesn’t mean you’re a horrible person.” You didn’t say anything but nodded your head slightly with a small smile at his words. He didn’t need to hear anything from you to know that you were appreciative of his words. 

“I wanna know everything about you, H.” You changed the subject, not wanting to talk more about your failed relationship. 

His body turned warm at the sudden nickname. “Everything?” He raised his brows as he took a sip of his drink. He was a bit wary about your sudden want, but he knew that he could trust you. 

You nodded. “Tell me all your secrets,” you whispered. Your words came out seductive, which you didn’t mean to, but by the way he was looking at you, it seemed like your words had some effect on him. 

He curled his lips into his mouth as you pierced your eyes into his as his heart began to beat harder. He smirked a little, chuckling to himself at his reaction. 

“You're in for it, love. Have a lot to cover.” 

A blush formed onto your cheeks. “The floor’s yours.” He took a deep breath before he proceeding to tell you something very important to him. and he hoped he wouldn’t overwhelm you with this information. 

“When I moved here, a year and a half ago, I was diagnosed with Bradycardia Arrhythmia—my heart would beat slowly as you know. They put a pacemaker in after my second collapse. It was so sudden, and I have no idea where it came from, maybe smoking for an entire year when I was in uni, I’m not sure. But I moved here in August, so around that time, I collapsed. Mum rushed me to the hospital and they did a bunch of tests and diagnosed me, and now I have a pacemaker,” he explained calmly. 

The feeling in your chest was something you’ve never felt before. The heart tightened as he spoke every word, causing the pain to increase as your heart sank. Your eyes watered, not wanting them to fall because he didn’t need your pity. 

“Harry, a-are you okay now?” You asked, voice small. 

“Yeah, I think so. Uh, on Saturday at around eleven in the morning, two weeks before we met, I collapsed again. This time, I really couldn’t breathe. It genuinely felt like it was my last day on Earth. My lungs were closing in and my heart was slowing down. My mum was with me at my beach house, and I was lucky that she was there because she immediately called 911 and got me to the hospital.” You looked at him with fear in your eyes as you listened to the gut wrenching story. “I was gone for fifteen minutes, Y/N. Fifteen. It was some sort of miracle…” 

Then it suddenly hit you. 

It all made sense. 

Your heart suddenly opened up fully and the traces of doubt were left behind. Your mind started to piece together the reasons why you haven’t met your soulmate, and it was all right in front of you. The stories and journeys Harry had gone through had all added up. 

The beating organ in your chest had pounded so hard that you felt the beat through your ears, making it impossibly hard to hear, but your heart was fluttering uncontrollably that you couldn’t help but smile and blush. You could see it now—his stare. His eyes captivated yours as he looked so deeply into your eyes that you could stay lost in them forever and never worry about a thing. The magnetic pull and attraction towards him felt like you couldn’t hold back; that you wanted to continue being close to him as you inched closer to him. 

Your mind was coming up with different theories on why your soulmate was taking so long, but they all concluded to him. To Harry. 

It all made sense. 

The reason why it took so long for your soulmate to show was because Harry hadn’t moved here until a year and a half ago. He was still back in England getting his doctorate, and the separation between you two made it impossible to meet. Somehow your mind made up the conclusion that the only reason why you two met after Harry living here, in the same building, for a year and a half was because you were still with Eric; your time was spent on someone who wasn’t your soulmate. 

“Harry…” you whispered. 

His brows raised. “I’m okay now! Really, I am. I don’t think I’ll have any more collapses…” he said knowingly. His tone was like he knew something you didn’t, like he knew you were his soulmate. 

“Harry…” you repeated. 

“Yeah?” You reached forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your actions took him by surprise, but he immediately hugged you back, hurrying his face into your shoulder. 

You had instantly felt the warmth that he provided, not wanting to pull back. You took deep breaths, and you could physically feel Harry’s heart beating in sync with yours as you two sat in front of each other. 

“Why didn’t…you tell me?” You breathed out, eyes glossy as you pulled away from the hug. 

Harry noticed your change of emotion and he looked at you with a concerned face. He gently placed his hands on the sides of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb as your tears spilled out. 

“Tell you what?” He asked, still clueless. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were my soulmate?” You questioned. 

Harry’s breath was caught in his throat. He didn’t know if you were angry or disappointed with him, but you didn’t show any sign of anger, so he slightly relaxed. Your face was filled with confusion, and he wanted to take that away quickly. 

“You know?” 

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded, tears threatening to spill out. 

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I felt it immediately when I first met you, and I didn’t think you did yet. I should’ve told you…” he grabbed both of your hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand sweetly. 

Harry’s eyes watered. He didn’t know if you were happy that he was your soulmate because you haven’t said anything, so he anxiously kept kissing your hand. 

You inched forward, placing your forehead against his as both of your hands were in between you two. Your lips met with his hand before you pulled away. 

“I felt it. I felt it all when you told me your story and about your condition. It was like your heart opened up for me and my heart finally had the realization that you were right in front of me—this whole time.” You sniffled. Harry’s tears streamed down his face as the overwhelming feeling was present in his chest, making his heart pound through his chest. Your hearts were in sync with one another, so you placed your hand flat on his chest, feeling the beating organ that was giving you so much life. 

“I can’t believe this is happening…” he said in disbelief. 

“Harry…I should tell you that, uh, the first time you collapsed—when you were diagnosed with your condition, that was when Eric proposed to me. Your second collapse, a month ago, that was my wedding day. The time you collapsed was when I was at the altar. There were just so many thoughts running around in my head that I physically and mentally couldn’t be in front of my ex because I just knew he wanted the one for me,” you explained. 

Harry’s mind immediately clicked. “Then when you left the altar was when I was brought back to life…” he pieced together like a puzzle. His missing puzzle piece was you. Your eyes softened, smiling at him because at least you did some good in the last month. “You saved me.” 

“I can’t help but think that I was the one that caused all of this,” you poured, and he shook his head. 

“No, no. You didn’t. If you’re going to blame yourself for that, then I’m going to blame myself for getting together with other people back in England, causing you to not believe that you have a soulmate,” he challenged. You shook your head in disagreement. “Then we have nothing to blame ourselves for, okay? We’re here now.” 

You placed your forehead against his as you whispered,” Yeah, we are.” You close your eyes for a moment, trying to take in the events. You couldn’t believe that after knowing Harry for more than two weeks, he was your soulmate this entire time. 

Pulling away a bit, you looked at him as your eyes glimmered. The tips of your noses touched in the most delicate way as you looked at each other. The room was filled with so much clarity, light, and…love. You smiled softly as the corners of Harry’s lips turned up into a grin, dimples poking out. 

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, eyes looking down at your lips and back to your eyes. 

You nodded, your heart beating ten times faster. He moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before gently placing his hands on your cheeks as he moved forward to capture his lips with yours. His touch and lips ignited you as the sparks ran through your body, making you pull him closer. His lips were something you’d never felt before. They were soft, gentle, and loving as he moved in sync with you, meeting your tongue with his in such a passionate and deep way. 

You felt completely overwhelmed with happiness as you smiled into the kiss, tears rushing down your face as you knew the wait was finally over. He was here. 

Harry moved you on your back as he hovered over you, lips never disconnecting as it was something he wanted to do forever. You ran your fingers through his hair, slightly grabbing onto his curls as you earned a moan against your mouth from him. Involuntarily bucking your hips against him, you felt him grow between your legs in his flared pants as he grinded against your leg. 

He pulled away from the kiss only to kiss your jaw and neck, nibbling and sucking your skin, leaving a decent hickey on your skin. Your hands raked his clothed back, and Harry felt the way your nails dragged against his shirt, making his excitement increase because he couldn’t wait to actually feel it against his skin, only if you’d let him. 

“C-Can I, uh,” he stumbled with his words. 

“Harry, do you think we could wait?” You asked, indicating sex. His eyes widened, immediately getting off of you. 

“Oh, yeah! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t be sorry. I just want to wait to do that with you,” you caressed his cheek. 

“Okay, that’s fair.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips to see if he wasn’t dreaming. 

The rest of the night was like this—you laid in his arms, stealing kisses from one another. He held you tightly, afraid that you would leave once he loosened his grip, but you were right where you needed to be. 

A week went by, and you were happier than ever. You were in complete bliss with Harry, and you never wanted that feeling to stop. It seemed like Nonna was happier than you because she’d been waiting for this moment for so long. She wanted to see you happy, even Harry, you being happy together just made her heart warm. 

You were just getting back home from doing some shopping when your phone rang. Assuming that it was your soulmate, you smiled as you searched for your phone through your purse. But what you didn’t expect was to see the contact that you have been waiting a month for. 

“Eric? Hi,” you said surprisingly. 

“Hey. Uh,” he chuckled. “This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I just wanted to call to see if you were free to talk.” 

Your eyes widened. “Yeah! I just got home. Do you want to swing by right now if you’re available?” 

“Yeah, that’d be great. The same apartment, right?” 

“The same one. I’ll see you soon,” you confirmed before you bid each other goodbye. 

You waited for Eric for about thirty minutes, distracting yourself by cleaning and tidying up your place as you constantly overthought what you were going to say to him. This was going to be the first real conversation you were going to have with him in a month, not to mention the first time you’re seeing him after you ran away and left him at the altar. 

There was a hard knock on your door, startling you. You took a deep breath before you answered it, revealing your ex-fiancé. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled, giving you a hug. He seemed happier and in a better mood than you’d expected. 

“Hi, how are you?” You invited him into your home. It still looked the same the last time he came over, which had been quite a while. 

“I’m doing good, you?”

“Good as well. Coffee?” You offered. 

“Please.” 

You made him a cup of coffee, remembering the way he liked it because of the amount of times you’d made it for him in the morning. Setting it on the coaster, you sat on the other end of the couch, facing him. There was a bit of silence between you two—both not knowing where to start the conversation, but you figured you needed to get everything out of your system, so you went first. 

“Eric, I’m really sorry for how I left things. I shouldn’t have done it the way I did, and I should’ve talked to you first before we even proceeded to the wedding, but all of a sudden, it clicked. When you were reading your vows, I was just thinking of all the things Nonna said to me, and I realized…you weren’t the one. You weren’t my soulmate,” you explained. Your shoulders relaxed, finally feeling like this was the first step before you got to live your life with Harry. 

“Hey,” he reached over to grab your hand. Now, you could say that you really don’t feel the same love as before. His touch wasn’t the same as Harry’s. Eric didn't give you the spark that crawled up your skin, only Harry did. “It’s totally okay. I mean that. I understand why you did that, and I’m glad you did because I knew you weren’t the one for me either, and it took me a while to realize that until…” he trailed. 

“Until?” You encouraged him to continue, but it clicked so quickly for you. “You met someone?” He smiled, nodded his head. “Holy shit! What?!” You exclaimed surprisingly. You were the furthest from mad, and you were actually really happy for him. 

“I did, yeah. She’s great, honestly. Her name is Mandy and I met her the night of our wedding,” he chuckled. “I went to a bar and met her there. And then I felt it. It’s the most exciting and exhilarating feeling in the world,” he excitedly said. 

“Isn’t it?” You raised your brows, and Eric furrowed his brows until he got what you meant. 

“Hold on…you…wait…you met yours didn’t you?” He speculated, and you laughed. 

“Yeah, I did. Two weeks after our wedding. Actually met him at Nonna’s. Turns out, they’ve known each other for a year and a half. Can you believe that?” 

“Actually, I can. Nonna Tallie knows everything. I’m pretty sure she knew that I wasn’t your soulmate too,” he said, laughing. You laughed along, deciding not to tell him that she actually did know. 

The rest of the night went on like this. You two caught up, and shared stories and memories that made you laugh when you looked back while pouring yourselves glasses on glasses of wine. You realized that you and Eric were much better as friends, and you’re glad that it didn’t end in a horrendous way because you really cherished and appreciated him. 

The night was getting late, and you two were giggling your tipsy hearts out as your eyes were trying theirs best to stay open. You realized you couldn’t fight over your exhausted and drunk self, so you decided to call it a night. 

“Uh, you could take the couch since it’s late and you can’t drive,” you offered. 

“Really? Thank you,” he smiled. You grabbed him an extra blanket and pillow, and bid him goodnight because you went to the restroom to do your skincare because you never forget to do your night routine no matter how drunk you are. 

You crashed onto your bed, closing your eyes as you let sleep and your dreams take over you, dreaming about the loveliest man just above you and how you couldn’t wait to see him again. 

When you wanted to see Harry again, you didn’t expect it to be the way you did. 

After a long eight hours of dreaming of him, you heard a loud knock on the door, causing you to jolt awake. Still groggy as you were sitting up in bed, you heard footsteps walking towards the door, and you had nearly forgotten Eric was still in your apartment and that he was going to answer the door. 

What you didn’t expect was to hear the familiar raspy and deep voice that said ‘Who the fuck are you?’ making you quickly get out of bed and heading towards the door. Eric was shirtless, clearly still sleepy, and Harry was standing on your doorstep with a bag of food in his hands. 

The picture looked bad and wrong. With you and Eric just getting out of separate beds, respectfully, and Eric not wearing a shirt, it really wasn’t what it looked like. 

“Harry-”

“A-Are you cheating on me?” Harry asked, not knowing if those were the right words. Sure, you were his soulmate, but he hadn’t made things official yet. 

“Hey, man-”

“I’m clearly not talking to you,” he interrupted Eric, giving him a stern look. 

You gently pulled his face down so he could look at you. “Listen to me, please?” He didn’t say anything, so you continued. “This is Eric, my ex. He came here to talk last night and we had a few glasses of wine and I let him crash on the couch, that’s all.” 

Harry nodded, but his face clearly said that he wasn’t convinced. You looked at him with a sad expression, feeling useless on what you could do to get him to believe you. 

“You know…” he started. His face looked disappointed, and you wished he flashed you his smile. “I found it odd that you didn’t know I was your soulmate when I first met you, and it hurt me, to be honest. It broke my heart. I waited patiently for you for my entire life, and I waited even more when I met you and you didn’t know that it was me. I get that if you’re still in love with him, I get it. You were together for years, almost forever. But this…” he gestured towards you two. “It looks bad and it hurts me more than ever.” 

With that, he walked away. Rushing towards the staircase, you ran after him, calling for him, but he ignored you. His long strides beat yours as he took two steps at a time, and you barely kept up with him, so you just let him be for now. You sat on the cemented stairs, placing your face in your hands as you cried. Your sobs echoed throughout the empty staircase, and your heart felt like it was ripping in half—Harry’s heart breaking just added to your pain as well. 

And just when you had gotten your soulmate, you felt like you lost him. 

A week had passed since you last saw Harry, and it was one of the longest, frustrating, and painful weeks you ever had to live through. 

The face Harry had given you was something you never wanted to see. The displeasurable look made your heart drop every time you thought about it, closing your eyes, it was the only thing you could see. 

He wasn’t talking to you, no matter how many times you knocked on his door and said sorry to him through the door that most likely came out muffled from the other side. Throughout the week, you tried your hardest not to get angry for being ignored as you refrained from telling him how unreasonable he was being. But you looked at things from his perspective, and you understood why he felt that certain anxiety of seeing Eric in your apartment…shirtless, might you add. 

It took you a while to figure out how that Harry was your soulmate, and you couldn’t imagine the doubt and discouraging feeling he had when you didn’t figure it out right away. You couldn’t imagine what he felt like when he first met you and felt everything indescribable. 

For what seemed like the millionth time this week, you walked into Nonna’s house, immediately feeling the warmth and comfort you felt every single time. But it wasn’t the kind of warmth you longed for from a certain someone. 

“Hey, Nonna,” you greeted once you entered, finding her on the couch, looking through her photo albums. 

“Hi, Chip. Come in and sit with me,” she patted the space next to her, and you gladly walked over, taking a seat, looking at the pictures of her and your grandfather when they were younger. 

“My soulmate. Miss you so much,” she said to the picture of the two of them smiling at the camera, touching Papa’s face. 

Nonna flipped through the album, telling you stories about every single picture. You loved hearing memories about your grandparents as they brought so much joy to you. Nonna’s stories were the last bit of hope you had in soulmates, and you made sure to never let it go. 

You saw Nonna take out a picture out of the slip, pointing at it as she told you another story. “This was me and your Papa when we went to the beach. We were with some friends, and he told me he was going to marry me. This wasn’t where he proposed, but this was when I heard it for the first time. I was surprised, but so in love.” She smiled at the photo of her and her soulmate. Nonna handed you the picture so you could get a better look. 

In the picture, they were both sitting in the sand and she was smiling at the camera while Papa was holding her waist, looking at her with so much love. They were such a beautiful couple and quite the lookers. 

As you studied the photograph, you noticed a couple in the back who equally looked in love as Nonna and Papa were. But to what shocked you was that the couple in the back looked just like you and Harry. You softly gasped, bringing the picture closer to your eyes, making sure you weren’t just imagining things, but sure enough, the couple looked exactly like the two of you. 

“Nonna, look at this. This couple right here,” you pointed at the picture. 

She squinted before she gasped herself. “Well, that looks quite like you and my delivery boy.” 

“W-Why is that exactly us?” You stuttered, a bit spooked out.

Nonna grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. “Soulmates are destined for your future. What they didn’t tell you, or what I didn’t tell you was that, before you’re born or even conceived, the universe already plans for your soulmate because they’re quick like that. They have this stronghold that they can’t help but put together two people who are made for each other, even if they’re not even on this earth yet. In your case, the universe put you and Harry together in your past lives, way before you both were born. You and Harry were made for each other. Don’t let him go, ever.” 

Without even realizing, you felt tears fall from your eyes as she explained. Your heart felt like it was exploding with so much love. 

You needed him. You needed the air he provided. The light in your darkest days. The love that fulfilled your heart. 

You handed Nonna the picture back, but she waved you off. “Keep it. Go get him, yeah?” 

Kissing her cheek in gratefulness, you sniffled as you headed to your home. 

You found yourself exactly where you needed to be, knocking on the dark green door with the number 525 in gold. 

“Harry, please open the door,” you called out from outside. A frown settled upon your face as you continued to knock. The thought of Harry being on the other side of the door and ignoring you, made your heart ache. 

“Can't do that when I’m out here.” You turned your head to see Harry fiddling with his keys with a bag of groceries in his other hand. 

You smiled softly, rushing towards him before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself against him. “Missed you so much.” Your heart warmed when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, and you smiled into his shoulder. “Can we talk? Please?” You asked once you pulled away, looking at him with pleading eyes. And who was he to say no to that?

“Let’s go inside.” He walked past you, opening the door to let you in. You missed the homey feeling, and one week was too long without stepping foot into his place. He offered you a drink, but you declined, and he joined you on his sofa. 

There was an unfamiliar silence where you didn’t know if you should speak or let the silence take over you until the tension finally breaks. Harry wasn’t speaking either as he was waiting for you to speak since you were the one who almost knocked down his door with your fist with the constant knocking. 

“I’m sorry, Harry. This week has been brutal and I never want to go without you ever again. I looked at things from your perspective, and yeah, I would be frustrated and disappointed and hurt at me too. I couldn’t imagine what you were going through when you finally found me and I didn’t even know you were right in front of me. And I just want to say I’m sorry. Eric and I are over, and I don’t love him anymore. He’s already found his soulmate, and I have you…at least I think I still have you…” you said all in one breath, and your mind had gone into a spiral because you really didn’t know if you screwed things up. 

Harry breathed out a chuckle, smiling to himself as he looked down at his lap. You knew you hadn’t convinced him enough just by the way he’s silent, probably debating with himself in his head if he should believe you. So, you took out the picture Nonna had shown you from your purse, hesitantly giving it to him. 

He grabbed the picture and looked at him before he asked, “Who’s this?” 

“That’s my Nonna and Papa. Think they were, like, twenty here. But that’s besides the point…look at the couple in the back.” Harry squinted, observing the couple behind Nonna and Papa. The couple were facing the ocean; the woman was sitting in front of the man as his arms were warmed around her body. They were looking at one another, smiling brightly when the world was right in front of them. But their worlds were right in their arms. 

You noticed Harry’s eyes widen, looking at the couple again just as you did to make sure he’s not just hallucinating. He turned back to you, speechless, and you nodded. 

“That’s us in our past life. Nonna told me that the universe puts couples together even if they’re not born yet. Our souls were born to the stars and the moon. We were destined to be together decades ago, and we are now,” you hesitantly grabbed his hand, and you’re grateful that he didn’t pull away. His touch was on fire that the spark ignited into something so relieving. You looked at him so intently, and you couldn’t pull away. No matter how disappointed he was in you, there was still that sparkle when he looked at you. “Harry, I’m sorry if I made you think that I wasn’t in love with you. There is nothing more in the world than you, and you’re all I want. We’re made for each other, baby. I’ve been in love with you, I’ll be in love with you. Forever.” 

Silent tears streamed down Harry’s face as he curled his lips in. His heart was beating at a normal pace, only because it was now filled with the love and warmth that he’s asked for, and it all came from you. You filled that hole in his heart that’s been waiting to be sealed, and now you vowed to take care of it, and love and cherish it. 

Harry shifted closer to you and you smiled through your tears. He delicately touched your cheek like you were fragile glass, and you soaked in his touch that made your cheeks warm. You turned your head to kiss his palm as he cradled your face. He brought his face closer to yours and kissed the tip of your nose before resting his forehead against yours. You smiled to yourself; you thought the gesture was sweet and you missed his touch and lips so much that it had made your heart physically ache. 

“I’m gonna make you happy, baby, I promise.” 

He nodded as his heart forgave you. “And I’ll do the same. Forever.” Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he spoke so softly, and his voice was deeper and raspier. “I was overreacting the last time--I’m sorry. I just closed myself off and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. Your feelings are valid. Let’s talk about it next time, okay?” You softly suggested, and he offered you a small smile of acceptance. 

“I’m gonna love you forever,” he said.

“You better,” you teased, smirking slightly as he chuckled. 

The tip of your noses touches as you closed your eyes before Harry leaned in and connected your lips together. The lips that were molding with yours had taken you back years, and it was like you had been kissing his lips for the entirety of your life, along with your beating heart that was beating for him all along. 

pls let me know your thoughts and feelings on this! thank you for reading <3

[professorspork]

superhell fic prompt: RB+J reunite with Yang

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

Let no one ever doubt that Yang can be a champion whiner when she wants to be.

She was on her best behavior before, listening intently as Weiss caught her up on just how badly the fight with Cinder went, and brainstorming up next steps (get to the Tree; send up a flare with Ember Celica because if there were Grimm they needed to worry about, they would have run into some by now; wait). Only there wasn’t much to talk about after that that wasn’t wildly depressing, and they’d fallen into an uneasy silence-- Yang watching Weiss hunch tighter and tighter in on herself with every step.

So she’d filled the quiet: complaining about how they’d be there by now if only she still had Bumblebee; bitching about how unfair it is that they can’t seem to get their Semblances to work; grumbling over how she has no idea how long they’ve been walking because the light never seems to change here. And Weiss snaps back, of course, but Yang can tell the annoyance is feigned-- the more irritated Weiss’s answers are, the more relaxed her body language becomes. Normalcy’s thin on the ground, here; Yang will provide it anywhere she can.

Except-- 

-- except also something on the ground here, it seems-- 

-- is Gambol Shroud.

“Oh,” Yang breathes, in a tone of voice she’s not entirely sure she’s ever produced before. Weiss runs ahead and drops to her knees, but hesitates when she goes to scoop up the weapon-- her hand hovering over it, shaking.

“I-- sorry. It’s not my-- you should--”

“You should give it back to her,” Yang says, keeping her distance and a soft smile on her face.

Weiss looks up at her with wide eyes. “But you--” 

“--didn’t have to see her fall. You did. And you-- you did really good, Weiss. You should give it back to her.” It seems a small concession to make, in the grand scheme of things. She’s going to have plenty of Blake, and soon. She knows it-- she’s sure of that down to her bones, now. So what is there to be possessive of? She waits until Weiss nods, and slips the katana through one of her scabbard loops. It’s not exactly meant to be carried that way, but whatever. It looks pretty badass. “C’mon,” she says, helping Weiss to her feet. “We’re close. I can feel it.”

Weiss roasts her mercilessly when it’s a good age and a half of walking before they even hit the tree’s roots (“Oh, are we close, Yang? Can you feel it?”), but they don’t come across any other surprises. When the roots start to twist and rise above them, Yang clambers up to a decent plateau and sets off two charges-- shooting them high into the air and watching them explode like fireworks. Yang smirks, tucking her arms behind her head as she prepares to settle in and wait--

-- and promptly slips and falls out of the tree when a trio of familiar voices happily cry “Yang?!” only seconds after the flare’s report.

(It’s not her fault, okay? She wasn’t expecting them to be this close, or together; wasn’t expecting Jaune to be down here at all; it’s whatever--)

By the time she’s picked herself up and dusted herself off, Ruby, Jaune and Blake have come into view, just across the clearing. 

“Ruby!” Weiss cries, sprinting towards them, and that’s-- she’s Yang’s sister, she should get dibs on first hug, what gives, only then Weiss actually throws a thumbs up behind her as she runs and that’s just-- that’s just rude, honestly, as if--

“Yang,” Blake says, close enough to touch, and when did that happen?

“Blake, I--”

She has no idea how that sentence was supposed to end. Luckily, Blake relieves her of the burden, busying her mouth and bringing her thoughts to a grinding halt by pulling her into a swift, determined kiss. Yang’s struck so dumb by the shock of it that for a moment she forgets to kiss back-- hands hanging limply at her sides as she tries to process the intent pressure of Blake’s lips against hers; the swell of body heat where they’re pressed together, chest to chest; the tender way Blake cradles her jaw, all fingertips, the way you touch something precious and fragile. Every muscle in Yang’s body relaxes in an instant-- at last, finally, thank you-- and a needy, wanting noise tears itself from her throat, entirely without her volition.

It’s possible she goes a bit overboard when she finally gets control of her limbs again, wrapping her arms around Blake’s sides and dipping her into the kind of kiss she’s only seen on the covers of Blake’s novels, but it’s hard to care about how it looks-- not when Blake’s laughing into her mouth, and Ruby’s wolf-whistling (Yang releases her hold on Blake for that, briefly, only because she has to prioritize flipping Ruby the bird) and has she mentioned that she’s kissing Blake Belladonna? 

She’s kissing Blake Belladonna.

She might never stop kissing Blake Belladonna.

Or, okay, maybe she will; her back kind of hurts holding this weird position so long. But when she pulls Blake back to standing, she suddenly registers wetness on her own cheeks, and she wouldn’t be surprised she’s crying only she’s-- she’s really pretty sure she’s not, so that means--

“Don’t cry,” she whispers, reaching up to brush the tears from Blake’s lashes. “If you cry I’m gonna cry, and--”

“I love you,” Blake breathes, and the words lay Yang out faster than any punch, knocking the wind right out of her lungs. The look on Blake’s face is beatific-- elated and adoring and thrilled. Like she’s proud of herself for being brave enough to say it; like she wasn’t sure she was going to know how. Only then the tears well up again; her voice hitches as she stutters: “I promised; I couldn’t get to you in time, you can’t-- I’ll follow you anywhere, I promised, I swear it, but you have to let me, I thought I lost you--”

This time it’s Yang’s turn to quiet Blake with a kiss, and she lets herself savor it. She clocks every sensation, every touch, every sigh, every brush of their lips. This isn’t about utility, or merely silencing Blake’s fears. It’s reassurance, and devotion, and a promise all its own: we’re okay. We can have this, now.

When she pulls back, she takes a deep breath, determined to find words that will mean as much as Blake’s just did, to make it clear just how much she feels--

-- only it’s a little hard to concentrate over how loudly Weiss is crying, a few yards away where Ruby and Jaune have her sandwiched between them.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to-- I just-- you did promise, all of you, you said you’d never leave my side and I was-- I was alone, I was the only one left, and I--”

Yang takes Blake’s hand, gratified when she gets an understanding squeeze and a nod in return-- to be continued. Whatever confessions of love Yang’s got scratching at the walls of her insides, they can wait a little longer; right now, they need to be with their team.

Together, they join the group huddle, saying nothing as collectively they abandon any attempts at soothing words and instead finally let themselves fall apart. Ruby all but crawls into Yang’s lap, and a thread of tension deep within Yang finally, finally relaxes, knowing that her sister is safe. Jaune cries loudest and hardest of all, and Yang buries a hand in his hair, wishing she could make it better. She knows what it feels like, to stab down and feel the life leave someone’s body, but that was-- she’d hated Adam. To have to do it to an ally, a friend, to have that responsibility on you, for someone you love--

--kill me, and I can make sure the power goes to you--

-- she shakes off the stubborn image of Raven’s scarlet eyes filling her vision and focuses on the people in her arms.

“Not to be super morbid, but maybe...” She pauses and chews on her words, wanting to make sure she says what she means to. “We might be a little past promises, now. All of us. I don’t know where we go from here, and the choices are only going to get harder. But-- we’ve always found our way back to each other before. Even here, and-- and I don’t even really know where here is. So maybe we can just... trust that. See where it takes us.”

She doesn’t realize she’s closed her eyes in a wince, unsure of how she’ll be received, until she cautiously squints them open again and sees half her universe staring back at her with nothing but love.

“I think that sounds good,” Blake says, 

but her eyes say so much more. 

[nudibutch]

hi um okay could you possibly give a basic breakdown of femme/butch identities because I really just thought they were lesbian aesthetics... I'm looking shit up online and I'm confused. sorry for the ignorance and no pressure to answer this if you dont want.

dont apologize!! my bestie @loveheartfemme has a lot of great answers/discussion posts and resources in her blog abt b/f labels so i mostly draw from her tags (i pull from a few other places too in this post). tl;dr theyre complex lesbian identities, not aesthetics. a lot of times people conflate being feminine == “femme” as an adjective and being masculine == “butch” and use both as adjectives when butch and femme are nouns.

two really nice quotes that i think sum up butch and femme really well:

(1) caroline narby, “on my butchness”: “butch is a trickster gender -- and so, in a similar way, is femme. lesbian gender expressions do not emulate heteropatriarchy, they subvert it. femme removes femininity from the discursive shadow of masculinity and thereby strips from it any connotation of subordination or inferiority. butch takes the markers of “masculinity” and divests them of their association with maleness or manhood. butchness works against the gender binary -- the masculine/feminine paradigm -- and reclaims for women the full breadth of possibilities when it comes to gender expression.”

(2) joan nestle (1967): “butch-femme relationships, as i experienced them, were complex erotic statements, not phony heterosexual replicas. they were filled with a deeply Lesbian language of stance, dress, gesture, loving, courage, and autonomy.”

these identities were borne from the 1950s lesbian working class. you’ll also see two working definitions of butch and femme: as lesbian identities, and as words used in ballroom culture (both are valid uses of the words, but stem from different areas).

here are some links to get you started:

--

about being femme: 

[1] [2] [3] what does it feel like/mean to be femme?

[4] [5] [6] femme and expression and [6] why femme =/= aesthetic (same applies to butch: you dont need to be Xtreme masculine to be butch!)

mel’s tag on femme things (her own posts + great rb’s about the identity)

--

about being butch:

[1] how is butch different than just being masculine?

[2] [3] [4] what does it feel like/mean to be butch? what does it mean to be “stone”? [5]* note: at the end of this post op references user persistentlyfem, this was before persistentlyfem posted a t*rf manifesto; also: stone is a subset of butches and femmes

mel’s tag on butch things (her own posts + great rb’s)

--

about the b/f dynamic and other b/f things:

lovely answer from cowboyjen (in her 50s) about the b/f dynamic

about the butch/femme dynamic and dilution of the word femme (and how r*dfems have twisted these words)

a great post about how r*dical f*minists are historical enemies to the butch/femme community

about butch and femme being lesbian identities

another post from cowboyjen about butch being a lesbian identity

additional closing statement: butch and femme are always labels that can be used by trans women. there are trans butches and trans femmes. trans women have always been an integral part of our community.

a list of rec’d butch/femme books, many of which are written by important historical people in the butch/femme community (e.g., leslie feinberg)

(a lot of people will not agree with me that butch and femme are lesbian-only labels. if you disagree please don’t come barrelling into my inbox about it, if it bothers you a lot that i think this, just quietly unfollow, i don’t want my blog to turn into a discourse hub.)