#at least if I was trying to put 2k words a day into one project I’d have a focus point to stick to

[mxgoldenwood]

I can feel myself very much descending back into my vampire era and like… don’t get me wrong, I still love my elves too, but good god do I have a strong desire to take all my vampire characters and just smash them together and make things with them…….

[echobx]

the one with the notes - jj maybank × ex!fem!reader

summary: you get to know someone knew, but it doesn't feel right

warnings: miscommunication, reader getting hurt (accident), angsty

word count: 2k

author's note: apparently I can write as long as it helps me avoid my life, so yeah. part 2 bc I have an important project to finish and my brain won't let me. but at least I can write, right? right? 😭😭😭😭

part 1

It starts slow. Simple glances, sharing smiles, a drowned out “hi” in a hallway. For two people who had been attached by their hips just three months ago, you really don't seem like you are even more than acquaintances at this point. But you know there's more. It's in the way he looks at you, how he flips you off when he feels you stare, how he makes you laugh from across the classroom. It's in the way you don't even notice that the new guy has been standing next to you, trying to ask you out for prom; because all you can think of is how good JJ would look in a tux.

“So, do you wanna go to prom with me?” he asks again, and you blink twice, then a third time. “Sorry?” you don't mean to be rude, but you can't picture yourself at prom, even with the right person it would feel wrong. “You and me, prom?” Sammy asks, and you shake your head to clear your thoughts. “Uhm, I mean- Can you give me a day? I don't, uhm- I have to check my schedule, my mom has a dinner sometime that week that I have to attend,” you reply, and he nods, a smile spreading on his face. “I can color code with you, if you say yes,” he suggests and hands you a small piece of paper. “That's my number, probably easier that way.” You hold onto the paper, unsure what to do, but when you look up again he has vanished.

You walk to biology, head a complete mess, and out of pure habit of heart your feet carry you to JJ. Sitting down beside him without saying a word, and all he can do is look at you. “You know, I don't think Steven will like that you're stealing his lab partner,” he whispers, and you finally snap out of it and look up at him. “What?” “You don't sit here anymore,” JJ reminds you, but when you nod to get up, he holds you back. “It's okay, stay.” “I should really get to my seat,” you look at him, and he lets go of your wrist. “Will you tell me why you are so out of it, or is it a secret?” JJ holds his index to his lips, indicating secrecy, which makes you chuckle. He looks good, his shirt is clean and there are no rings under his eyes. All in all he looks more put together than you felt all month. “Uhm, I don't know, it's just-” you take a deep breath and look down at the balled up paper in your hand. “Sammy asked me to go to prom with him,” you whisper and JJ huffs. “Who?” “Sammy, the new guy,” you mumble and look up at him. You had expected him to be displeased with it, to hate the idea, but instead he was simply surprised. “He seems nice,” JJ shrugs and turns to look out front. “Does he know that it's still a whole month until that thing?” If you didn't know better, you'd say there's a little jealousy swinging in his voice. But you do know better, and throw the idea straight into the mental trash can, the same one that is filled to the brim with the idea that you could win him back somehow. “No, I think he does. Just wanted to give me time to shop for a dress. Color matching and all,” you mutter, and JJ nods, scrunching up his nose as if he was about to start making fun of the guy. “Color matching,” he repeats and shakes his head, not saying a single thing as you get up and walk over to your actual seat, making space for Steven, who had just walked in and was giving you a confused look.

The whole lesson, your mind is running haywire. Was it really just acquaintances? People who say hi in the hallway, who smile at each other in passing. None of it had any meaning, and you had to convince yourself of that. Because anything else would cause you to spiral, and if it wasn't real (it couldn't be) you'd just end up worse than the first time round.

The next day you tell Sammy that it's okay, and he's rather giddy over it, more so than you. You spend more time with him over the following month. He helps you pick out the dress, he is all in all a good friend to you. And you know it's not just friendship that he seeks, but you aren't ready for more, not yet. Yet, he's understanding of your situation, of your feelings and for some reason you don't even question why he would be interested in you. Getting to know Sammy is inherently different from how it was with JJ. Sammy is sweet and nice, and he has your mom wrapped around his finger, but if you are truly honest with yourself, it's not enough. And you can't stop comparing him to J. To how he would make you laugh with stupid, childish things. To the way he'd look at you, especially before bed when you felt like your worst. JJ is all you had ever wanted, and more. But you had fucked it up because you have issues. You know deep in your heart that JJ would've never cheated on you, he loved you too much to hurt you in such a way. But your brain and its stupid chemicals didn't let you love him in peace. He'd just have to talk to a girl that wasn't you or Sarah or Kie and your blood would start boiling. It didn't even make sense to you, which was the worst part. You didn't understand why you were jealous like that, and you hated yourself for it. And no matter how hard he had tried to make it easier for you, it didn't help.

That month is also when the notes start. Small folded colorful pieces of paper with words on them. “You look beautiful, today” or “I love your smile.” But you don't think much of it. You don't know the handwriting, and the most likely culprit is Sammy after all. He's the one who showers you with compliments every single day, so it doesn't seem far off that he'd slip a few notes into your locker.

You arrive at the school that night in your light blue dress, ready to have at least a bit of fun before the year ends. You spend most of the time dancing, with Sammy, not even noticing the pair of eyes that linger in the dark, always watching you. When you go to the bathroom, you run into Kie, and she almost falls over, but you catch her. “Thanks, y/n,” she smiles, but it's not the genuine smile you know of her. “No problem,” you mumble and keep walking when she speaks up. “You know, it's pretty fucked up that you keep stringing him along like that.” “What?” you turn to look at her. “He left you all those notes, and you are too caught up with the new guy to even look at him anymore. That's fucked up, and you know it,” she scoffs, and you feel like you got hit by a car. It takes some time for it to settle, but by that point she is already gone, back towards the gym.

“Kie! Kie wait!” you scream while running after her. It doesn't matter to you that you might cause a scene, not when it's this important. “What?” she turns and snaps. “I think you've done enough.” “It's your handwriting,” you pant and she laughs. “Of course it's my handwriting. And the fact that you didn't even think of that- What's it like in that head of yours? Cozy? Cuddled up and ignoring the pain you cause the people around you?” “That's not fair,” you shake your head. A few people had turned to see what was going on, but most were still unaware of it all. Of the mess you had created unknowingly. “It's not fair to fuck someone over the way you did. That's what's not fair, y/n! Fuck, I don't even know why he still loves you,” she sneers and your heart drops some more. It hadn't occurred to you that he had been honest that day. It hadn't occurred to you that he hadn't just said it to calm you down. “But that's not- I will fix it,” your eyes jump around the room, not fixing on anything in particular, especially not the painful expression on Sammy's face. “I can fix it.” “You can't fix shit, y/n/n. Couldn't even fix yourself,” Kie scoffs. “I'm gonna fix it, I have to.” “Why should he ever care?” she snaps, and you stare at her in fury. “Because I love him, Kie. I love him. I love JJ,” you yell at her, but the sound of a glass shattering on the floor makes Kiara turn.

The glass filled with punch l, that Sammy had held, has slipped out of his hand, but his eyes are fixed on you. It takes a second for him to turn and walk away, and you don't know what to do. You never meant to hurt him, that had never been the plan. You run after him, yelling his name, but he's faster than you, mainly because you are in heels. And there it is again, the overwhelming feeling of guilt, and the pain that comes hand in hand with it. It's the same as the night you had broken up with JJ, the same you had felt waking up to an empty bed after-

“Y/N?” You can hear someone calling out for you, but it sounds far away, too far to be real. “Wake up, baby, come on,” JJ's voice buries itself in your mind, but you know it can't be true. He doesn't even go to prom, he wouldn't be here, you're hallucinating. “Y/n/n, wake up. Please, my love,” JJ begs, and you open your eyes. His blue eyes are filled with tears, but he starts to smile, brushing over your cheek. “Hi,” your voice is raspy and doesn't sound at all like you. “Hi,” he grins, tears wetting his cheeks. “What happened?” you hush, and then you feel a stinging pain on your forehead, but when you reach for it, he stops you. “It's okay, we're taking you to the ER. You fell down the stairs in front of the gym,” he explains. “I can't remember,” you whisper, the pounding in your head is making it hard to concentrate. “I know, I'll tell you when you're better. Please just, stay still, all right,” he whispers and you nod a single time.

“JJ?” you ask quietly, but the noise of the engine is drowning out every other sound, and you can only see him move his lips, no words coming to your ears. “I love you,” you mutter before losing consciousness the second time that night.

When you wake up at the hospital, you are alone. You can see your mother outside your room talking to a doctor, but the person you needed most isn't there. Your heart clenches, it hurts worse than your head. “How do you feel?” your mom asks after sitting back down by your side. “Like I was run over and trampled on by a herd of angry rhinos,” you mutter. “They say you have a concussion, on top of that laceration,” she says and points at your head. “Where's JJ?” you ask and her soothing smile drops. “I told him to go home.” “Why?” “Because he's the reason you are in this mess, honey,” she tries to hold your hand, but you pull away. “That's not true. He saved me,” you whisper and turn away from her, facing the window and wishing you had never made the mistake of breaking up with him.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist:@ijustwantttoread@spideysimpossiblegirl@redhead1180@princessmaybank@kys4-20@drwstarkeyy@immyowndefender@julczimozart

[onlycosmere]

What book sequel are you STILL waiting for? 

marsh642: It's been weeks since Brandon Sanderson released a book. I hope he's doing ok /s

PattableGreeb: One day I hope to be like that guy output-wise. Not necessarily in terms of volume, but like, the sheer ability to just get into it and commit without much fuss.

erossthescienceboss: I’m a writer, and deeply envy his ability to work within a schedule and use his time. Has he ever experienced writers’ block? At all? Like, I’m in nonfiction — I don’t even do creative writing! Yet so often, it’s like pulling teeth.

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott is a great book for those of us prone to writers’ block and procrastination (I related to Anne’s writing struggles deeply, and often wonder if she has undiagnosed ADHD) but I’d love to read a Sanderson guide to Actually Writing and Getting Shit Done.

Brandon Sanderson: I'd say that what you do, in nonfiction, is a different beast than what I do. I find nonfiction like pulling teeth too, sometimes!

Of course, fiction can be like that too. I do experience writer's block, but I am fortunate in several ways. One is that I managed to build a very good work ethic during my unpublished years, one I was mostly able to maintain after going professional. I also found a multitude of strategies for dealing with writer's block that have been helpful.

Once in a while, a book just doesn't work, though, and I DO abandon it and get into a funk for a while.

Simple guide for me is:

1) Make manageable goals.

2) Write consistently, and develop habits. Long hours are not as good as consistent hours. Crunching on a book burns you out. Instead, I follow the Stephen King method of shooting for around 2k words a day.

3) If I get into a funk, write anyway, planning to throw those words away. Then re-read them the next day and see if they are actually terrible, or if I was in a funk. Most common result if the words are bad is this: writing them gives my brain something to fix, and it does, giving me a new scene to try. But if I just stop, and don't write the bad words, I get stuck.

4) In emergencies, having something fun and different to work on can give a breather. This is where the Secret Projects came from.

Good luck! Don't know if that helps, but I hope it's at least interesting.

xXCoffeeCreamerXx: Step 2 is where I get caught up. I know I need to build good habits, but I simply can’t get started/stay consistent enough to form those habits. So is there a tip 1.25, 1.5, 1.75?

Brandon Sanderson: There is, but it's unfortunately not going to be quite as useful. That's the step that is most likely to be the tough one, but diagnosing what is causing it is a little like trying to diagnose a disease from a headache. Basically anything can cause you to have trouble building the habits, and so general advice is tougher to give. The solution will really depend on your personal psychology.

How have you built other habits? What motivates you? (Loaded question, I know.) An easy trick is to put your writing time just before or after something you do every week already, and don't have trouble remembering to do. Have a weekly raid with the WoW team? Add writing in before it for two hours. Go to the gym on a Saturday? Build a playlist of mood music for your story, imagine it while there, then stop at a library/cafe always on the way home and write for a few hours as part of the weekly routine.

Involving others in your life can help. Telling them your goals, and getting their buy-in to make you responsible. Starting/joining a writing group (which isn't for everyone, mind you, but works for some of us) so you have a responsibility to submit can work too, depending on if you're the type who will fill bad not having something to share each week after you promised to do so.

Like the cafe suggestion above, a lot of people have more success building a habit if it's something they go out and do--rather than something they do at home, particularly if you're trying to write in a space where you ordinarily relax.

But really, there's a WHOLE lot going on inside of us in regards to motivation, and the individual brain brew is unique to us all. I am helped by keeping a spreadsheet of work done, so I can watch the numbers count up and see my progress. Others I know need a stick or a carrot. Others work on a yearly habit (writing during the summers as a teacher, for example) rather than a weekly one.

And all of that is assuming you're not avoiding writing for other reasons, such as performance anxiety, fear of the blank page, or a sense that something's wrong with your story you don't know how to fix.

Best of luck. Like I said, the advice here might not be as good/relevant as either of us would like. But maybe there's something in it you can take away.

[drarryspecificrecs]

Owlery Exchange 2022: To Days To Come :

@gameofdrarry || official masterpost (N/A) || AO3 || ∑ = 9 works The Mods

1. Famous Last Words by @flickoflostsocks & @ladderofyears [M, 6k]

When unsigned love letters addressed to him begin spontaneously appearing around the castle, Draco is not amused. In an effort to make them stop - or at least to make them stop appearing in public places with permanent sticking charms - he writes back.

2. How to Fool Your Friends (And Get a Boyfriend in the Process) by @famoustruth & @orpheous87 [T, 10k]

Fed up with their friends trying to set them up, Harry and Draco decide to pretend to be a couple in public. They plan their every move through their letters, but what they didn't plan for were the very real feelings that make themselves known.

3. how to plan a party with your ex-enemy (who you definitely don't want to snog) by @aprofessionalprotagonist & @thelionessroyal [T, 2k]

After their return to Eighth Year, McGonagall, in an effort to encourage inter-house unity efforts, puts Draco and Harry in charge of planning an event for the first-year students. Due to busy coursework, the two often communicate by letter when they're unable to meet.

4. I Just Want You to Know by @crazybutgood & @sugareey-makes-stuff [T, 3k]

After a Potions accident leaves Harry and Draco without a verbal filter, they have no choice but to communicate with each other through letters. Forced to work together to catch up and complete their Potions project on time, secrets they have both been withholding eventually spill out along the way.

5. If Thou Must Love Me, Love Me For Love's Sake by martinnn & @purplehotmess [M, 8k]

When Draco starts seeing Harry's nightmares in his dreams, he reaches out to the Golden Boy himself to see what trouble the man has put him into this time. Each new night comes with a new nightmare from Harry, the two quickly learning that Draco is not seeing Harry's nightmares but his darkest memories...

6. It's Okay to Feel Lost by @inheartofwinter & @magsmagicalnightmare [M, 3k]

Prompt: While looking for a quiet place to get away from everything during Eighth Year, Harry and Draco discover the Room of Requirement has recovered after the Battle of Hogwarts. The Room, sensing that they both need comfort and that the two of them need to resolve their issues, provides a magical message board whenever one of them enters.

7. The Sexy Partnership by @vibinglikeitsstill2014 & @resilientkitteh [M, 8k]

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy now both work at Hogwarts. Harry is a professor, and Draco has taken over Madam Pomfrey's position. Together, the two have been tasked to plan and instruct Hogwarts' newest addition to its required curriculum: a sex ed course.

8. You're My Home And My Adventure (All At Once) by @ladderofyears & @maraudersaffair [E, 11k]

Pregnant with their first child and close to the due date, Draco is bound at home on maternity leave with Harry still heading to work. The two communicate through multiple letters and exasperated owls as they plan for their upcoming child.

—

✔ other fests in 2022 ✔ fests in other years ✔ Owlery Exchange : Love Conquers All 2021 | A Very Drarry Valentine’s Day Exchange 2020 | Summer 2019

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

#4350 part 1 - Bus stop

#4350 masterlist ao3

"Did you see your prince charming today ? Did he wake you up from your sleep with a kiss ?" your friend asked with a knowing look.

You growled.

"I hate you so much."

They giggled, delighted.

Or in which reader developped a crush on the stranger she fell asleep on in the bus.

pairing : joshua hong x f!reader - seokkwan and soonhoon blink and you'll miss it

tags : strangers to lovers ; meeting on the bus ; pining from a distance ;

warnings : nothing

part 1 words : 2k

total fic words : 14k

_____________________________

"Did you see your prince charming today ? Did he wake you up from your sleep with a kiss ?" your friend asked with a knowing look.

You growled.

"I hate you so much."

They giggled, delighted.

Honestly, only you could manage to develop a crush on the stranger you fell asleep on in the bus.

Deep sigh.

_____________________________

Few days earlier.

You pouted.

You were so tired, your day had been so long and, may you say, kind of shitty. You had just argued with your partner for your project due tomorrow which was halfway done (he was supposed to do the other part) and your mom called telling you the family dog was sick.

You shook your head. Last night, you went to bed later then usual, which only made your condition worse. You wish you could say it was because you studied extra hours but you just got caught into your show and finished a season in a night.

Dumb fuck.

You sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time today as the bus #4350 finally arrived.

You jumped in, beeping your card as you entered.

Without even looking where you were sitting, you paired your earbuds to your phone and put your soft playlist on. You weren't planning to doze off, mostly because the drive was only 15 minutes long, but as soon as the first notes of Evermore from Taylor Swift sounded, you passed out.

_____________________________

You woke up as a hand softly brushed your shoulder.

"Hey, hum..." a voice murmured too close to your ear.

You jumped.

This couldn't be true. You couldn't have fallen asleep on the shoulder of the stranger sitting next to you who happened to be extremely handsome.

"I- I'm so sorry. Oh my god !" you blathered, your face probably red.

"No, no problem ! You actually smelled so nice-" the pretty boy's eyes became as big as a fist as he gasped. "I mean, you didn't bother me ! But you should hurry or you are gonna miss the next stop."

You blinked, lost, but quickly snapped out of it and took a look outside to understand how long you had been taking advantage of pretty boy's shoulder.

You were indeed one stop away from your apartment.

You collected your stuff as fast as you could as the bus' doors were already opening.

You turned around to thank the boy and to apologize once again. He shook his hands, telling you it was really no problem.

You hurried out of the bus before the doors would close and watched it leave.

You stood there for a second, as if under a spell, and it suddenly hit you : how could he know which stop was yours ?

_____________________________

"Please tell me you asked for his number," your best friend said with a pleading voice.

"Cole ! Have you even listening to a single thing I just told you ? I rushed as fast as I could off the bus not to miss my stop. How in the world would you want me to have asked for his number ?"

You heard them sigh.

"Well, at least he must take this bus everyday, just like you..."

"I wouldn't even know, it's always so full of people."

"Next time you can talk to him and discover what his name is !" they exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Supposing I would see him again, why would I ever try to talk to him after I embarrassed myself like that ?" you scoffed.

"Because he embarassed himself too and he very obviously must have observed you, otherwise he wouldn't have known your stop !"

You sighed.

"You're giving me a headache. How are things with your girlfriend ?" you jumped on the first subject possible.

"That's low y/n ! You know I don't wanna talk about that," they pouted.

"Sorry...should we grab something to eat and relax in front of a movie ?" you suggested to apologize.

"You pay for the food," they retorted immediately.

"Of course," you laughed and hugged them.

_____________________________

You took the bus again and this time, you inspected it carefully to find your boy.

You saw him, a book in his hands, probably at the same time as he saw you.

You both averted your gaze, a sligth blush on your cheeks.

You walked past him and took a seat behind him on his left, the perfect place to stare at him creepily without him noticing.

Saying you were disappointed you didn't greet each other would be a lie. Not that it mattered that much, obviously, you didn't even expect to ever become his friend.

You put on your earbuds and choose a playlist before rising your eyes to inspect him carefully.

Last time you hadn't had the time to really look at him.

His hair was parted and a messy curly. It was quite long and an ash blond that looked nearly grey.

You noticed that his eyes that you first thought were a dark brown were actually a lighter hazelnut. They were the prettiest when the sun kissed his face and you could see their true colour.

He was wearing a simple white t-shirt under a beige blazer and some pants that were a darker beige.

He was always careful of his posture, probably not even doing it on purpose.

He looked...good. Damn good.

The free seat next to him seemed extremely inviting but you shook the thought out your brain.

You rose the volume on your phone and stopped staring at your bus boy.

He left the bus two stops before yours and you once again exchanged a look when he jumped off, but this time he nodded his head to you and you replied with a smile.

Maybe your heart melted.

_____________________________

The next afternoon, you had waited all day to see him and maybe simply greet him ? Nothing incredible, you weren't trying to become his friend anyway.

But when you entered the bus, he was nowhere to be seen.

You didn't know why you were disappointed. It was not like you knew his agenda and he was supposed to take this bus every afternoon. He could have decided to take the one before or the one after, to spend more time with his friends or to work at the library. He may have a job and had to stay some extra hours today. Or maybe he didn't take this bus every afternoon like you did.

You didn't even know why all these thoughts were crossing your mind.

You frowned and put on your music to distract yourself.

_____________________________

You saw him again the next day.

He was sitting next to the window, staring at the landscape outside.

You thought he wouldn't notice your presence but he suddenly turned his head as you were looking for a seat. He smiled and you shook your hand, murmuring a timid "Hi" as you sat a few seats before him. He waved back.

You had your back against the window, enabling you to see both the front and the back of the bus (and casually to steal a look from him from time to time).

This time you noticed he had an habit to stick his tongue out to wet his lips and when he seemed lost in his thoughts. It was adorable.

You found yourself displaying a soft smile. What were you doing exactly ? For all you knew, he could have a significant other.

You sighed.

_____________________________

Once again your crush wasn't in the bus when you walked in. You pouted. You wanted to actually approach him today.

One stop later, you saw the man himself jump on the bus, immediately looking for something (someone) in the crowd and his face lighting up when he saw you. He lowered his gaze with a cute smile.

A hand pushed him and he stumbled. He turned around, frowning. The boy behind him laughed and said loud enough for you to hear :

"Come on Shua, people are waiting behind us !"

He wasn't alone today ?

Pause.

'Shua' ?

You hummed, with a little smile. You knew his name now. Or at least his nickname.

That was a start right ?

'Shua' rolled his eyes and you giggled.

"Come here !" his friend exclaimed, grabbing his hand and sitting just in front of you.

You took a glance at Shua's friend and noticed how, him too, was perfectly handsome. He had long dark hair and his face was... angel like.

They began to talk and you noted that they seemed extremely close. They constantly nudged each other playfully, laughing at everything the other said.

It warmed your heart. You had to admit they were cute together.

You noticed your boy had a habit of putting his hand in front if his mouth when he giggled softly.

Sometimes your boy would cry a "Jeonghan !" desperately when the other boy was messing with him but all this 'Jeonghan' would ever call your bus boy was 'Shua'.

You exchanged a look with both of them once or twice, smiling kindly before gazing away.

Way to be subtle y/n...

As you were approaching Shua's habitual stop, you saw them grow excited again, your boy doing anything possible to shut Jeonghan's mouth as the other one had a mischievous smile.

You heard him murmur : "Jeonghan no ! I'm not doing it !" as his friend was laughing out loud and staring your way.

"Fine..." his devilish friend started and he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled something on it. "Then I'm doing it !"

Shua's eyes grew bigger and he tried by all mean to take the paper but Jeonghan was seemingly holding onto it for dear life.

"Han ! We are not doing that !"

"We aren't, I am !"

You fake caughed to hide the laugh that escaped your lips. This Jeonghan really seemed like a pain in the ass. You liked him.

The bus eventually opened the doors in front of their stop and Shua tried one last desperate move to extract the paper from his friend's hands, which worked but the paper flew away, right next to your feet.

You being a sneaky snake, you hid it under your shoe as the boys were looking for it.

Before they could run outside, the doors closed and the bus departed.

"We missed the stop !" Shua complained, turning around to poke his friend. "You're such a pain in the ass Yoon Jeonghan !"

"If you weren't a wimp, we wouldn't have missed it Hong Jisoo !" Jeonghan retorted, poking him in return.

'Hong Jisoo', huh ? You wondered why the 'Shua' then.

You remembered the little piece of paper under your shoe and kneeled to grab it.

As the two of them were still arguing, you approached their seat and cleared your throat.

"Hi !" you greeted with your softest smile. "You were looking for that ?" you asked, handing them the paper.

They both stared at you, clueless, but Jisoo pushed your hand lightly, returning it to you.

"Y-you can keep it..."

You looked at your hand then glanced back at him and you were probably displaying the same dumb awkward smile as him.

You felt like butterflies wings were tickling your skin where he just touched you and like your heart was seconds away from exploding.

The bus stopped and you blinked, putting an end to whatever spell you were under.

Jeonghan chuckled.

"That was intens-"

Before he could finish, Jisoo pushed him to the doors.

"Bye" he just told you and they jumped off.

You exhaled.

That's it, you were whipped.

_____________________________

"That's so romantic oh my god !"

You sighed.

"How weak must I be for him to simply touch my hand and now all I can think about is him ?"

Saying Cole was delighted was an understatement. They were jumping everywhere and asking for all the details.

"And ? What did the paper say ?"

"I don't know. I didn't open it, it's not mine."

You felt a slap on the back of your head.

"Ow !" you protested.

"Y/n y/l/n ? Are you fucking dumb ? He gave it to you ! Where is it ?"

"He just said that I could keep it, probably because he didn't know what to do with it anyway..." you retorted.

"I can't believe you just said that...Where is it ?"

You looked in your back pocket but didn't find it.

"I... don't know," you answered dumbfounded.

"Don't bullshit me, where did you hide it ?"

Your friend jumped on their feet to look for it and search all your pockets uselessly.

"I must have lost it," you said rising your shoulders.

"There could have been his phone number on it ! He wanted you to text him !" they exclaimed, borderline screaming.

"Well, I don't know where I put it. And I really don't think it was his phone number to be honest."

Your friend was emptying your school bag and they turned around.

"Y/n, you do understand that this boy is as much, if not more, into you as you are into him, right ?" they seriously told you.

"I am not sure about that and you can't be either because you have never seen him !"

Cole groaned but didn't say anything because they knew this was where the discussion was ending.

_____________________________

Later that night, as you were opening your book to study, you saw a piece of paper fall from it.

You smiled, recognising it.

You opened it curiously, excited to see if what Cole said could be true.

You read the few lines written on it and opened your mouth, scoffing.

Well, in your defense, you were right, it wasn't Jisoo's phone number.

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

remember (remember) annotations because why the hell not

I've always wanted to make annotations for something I've written and I figured this would be a good opportunity, since this is a short and yet somewhat complex fic with a lot of parallelism/references. I'm writing this for the hell of it and because I think it'll be fun, I'm guessing it'll be pretty long and so for that reason I'm putting the rest under the cut. Without further ado, here are annotations for my recent 2k word one shot persona 5 fic remember that you can't save everyone (remember that you have to try).

part one: the writing process

My writing process varies for each project. I definitely tend more towards outlining, but this fic was somewhat of an exception for me. Since I knew it was going to be so short and very dialogue-heavy, I basically just had the rough idea planned out when I started drafting. Normally I might outline the whole thing, if not on paper then in a note or at least in my head, all in great detail. For this fic, I decided to write it on a whim, so there wasn't much time for the outlining stage.

I wrote the first draft in chunks of 500-ish words at a time over the course of a single night, pausing whenever I hit a roadblock or a good temporary endnote and returning to it a bit later. My drafting process is pretty basic. I tend to hyperfixate on whatever I'm writing and get into a flow state--and if I can't reach that flow state, I struggle to write anything at all. The words just kind of come to me, usually even a bit faster than I can write them (though I've started to catch up with my typing more recently--it helps that I write on my phone more often than not these days and I'm a lot faster that way).

Once the first draft was finished, I let it sit overnight, and since I was hyperfixating on it, I started work on the second draft basically right away once I woke up and kept working on it until it was done. Normally I don't work nearly this fast, but it helped that this was a hyperfixation-driven fic and that it was so short and simple.

My editing process is basically just a lot of rereading, tweaking/reordering/deleting/rewriting until I have something I'm happy with. In this case, I added about 200 words worth and deleted a lot of dialogue that I didn't think worked or didn't sound therapist-y enough. It's extremely hard writing Maruki's dialogue--just in general, but especially when he's in therapist mode.

The following is an example of the changes passages go through from the first draft to once its completed. The first draft is in italics, anything I cut is struck through, and anything I added is in bold.

-

Kurusu sniffles, and there's another long silence. Takuto gets up to refill his water glass in the meantime. While digging in the fridge, he ends up grabbing a beer too. Takuto tucks the phone between his cheek and shoulder to pick up his water glass and carry both back to his room.

He hates knowing Kurusu is suffering while so utterly helpless. He wishes more than anything he could do to something other than offer what must sound like empty platitudes.

After a long while Kurusu takes a deep breath and sighs. "Thank you, Doctor Maruki. I think I feel a little better now."

"I'm glad to hear it. If you ever need me, please, call me, at any time of day. Don't ever feel like you're bothering me."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Takuto runs his hands through his hair, a tiny bit of tension dissipating–but most of it remains.

Takuto sets the drinks down on his bedside table. He grabs his phone with one hand and runs the other through his hair. "Would you like to talk about anything else?"

"No. I'm good now. Promise."

"I'm glad to hear that. If you ever need me, please, call me, at any time of day. Don't ever feel like you're bothering me."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"All right. Don't forget what I said, Kurusu-kun. It's natural to be feeling a lot of conflicting emotions right now. If you ever need to talk it out more I'm here. It's okay to need help navigating the this grieving process."

"Yeah. Thanks." A door opens, and Takuto assumes Kurusu is headed back up to the attic for the night. "Goodnight, Doctor Maruki."

"Goodnight, Kurusu-kun."

Kurusu hangs up. Takuto sighs, allowing himself to slump forward and hold his head in his hands. He's so helpless. Not only with Kurusu, but also with his Kurusu's friends, and everyone else. At least with those like Rumi and Sumire Yoshizawa he'd been able to help, but the rest of them…there's nothing he can do. Absolutely nothing. Takuto opens the beer bottle and takes a swig.

-

I reordered the dialogue in one instance because I realized it sounded like Maruki was ending the call before Akira gave any indication that he was better/done talking, and it surprisingly still worked without having to change much. As you can see, there's a lot more added than subtracted. I'm an underwriter, and I wanted to break up the dialogue and indicate Maruki's what reaction was to what Akira told him through his actions. The rest of the changes are pretty small and were tweaked during the final few proofreads before I posted the fic on ao3.

Fun fact, I was debating for a long time whether he should refer to Sumi as Sumire or Kasumi in his head (on one hand, she believes she's Kasumi because of him and maybe he wants to respect that, on the other hand he's well aware she's not Kasumi and only believes that because he made her do so), before I remembered he pretty much exclusively refers to her as Yoshizawa out loud in the game and that that worked as a good compromise.

part two: commentary

Now we get to the fun part! This part is going to be pretty much nonsense unless you've read the fic already, so I recommend you go do that first, and then you can come back here. I'm going to take out passages and explain my thought process behind them/any parallels/deeper meaning behind them. This might take some of the magic out of it in the same way explaining a joke takes away its humor, so if you'd rather not see this peek behind the curtain, I understand.

Her back is to him, but she's closer than she's ever been. If only he could get her attention–Takuto reaches out, and he could swear, the tips of his fingers graze the back of her head, just barely tousling her hair. She's so close.

Bzzt.

Takuto is ripped away from her.

The fic opens with a dream Maruki is having of attempting to reach Rumi. This is pretty straightforward--he misses her and wants her back in his life, but he knows that's impossible, so he can't reach her no matter how hard he tries. I started here because I wanted to remind the reader where his mindset is at and the trauma that's led him to this place as context for the rest of the fic.

He fumbles with the phone, nearly accidentally rejecting the call as he struggles not to drop it. He manages to press accept and presses the phone to his ear.

I love how awkward and clumsy Maruki is. I headcanon him as ADHD and I tried to reflect that in this fic by describing how restless he is later on, constantly pacing around his room as he and Akira talk. But anyway, as for this little section I wanted to include his clumsiness without breaking the tone of the fic, so this happens early on before the more serious stuff happens and it'd be jarring to hear about Maruki stumbling around.

"Kurusu-kun?" he tries.

Silence. Then, a very soft and quiet, "...Yeah."

"Is everything alright?"

More silence. An even softer, "No."

Takuto switches on his lamp. Kurusu has never called him before, let alone in the middle of the night. Whatever this is about, it's serious, and he's trusted Takuto with it above anyone else. "Do you want to talk about it?" Kurusu mumbles something inaudible. "I'm afraid I couldn't make out–"

"I'm sorry," Kurusu says. "I didn't realize it was this late. It's nothing. Forget I even–"

While Akira is the one who called, I wanted to make it clear that he was hesitant about talking to Maruki, since I think it's in character for him to be afraid of making himself a burden. He called because he was so overwhelmed with emotion and immediately regretted it, and he continues to be hesitant to share his feelings for the rest of the fic. He just isn't used to talking about them out loud with anyone, not even his own counselor.

"We don't have to talk about anything if you prefer. I'll sit on the line with you until it's safe to hang up."

"It's not like that." Kurusu's words come out rushed, almost panicked, like he's desperate to clear up a misunderstanding.

"Like what?"

"I don't want to hurt myself. Or…whatever."

Oh, Akira. He called Maruki in the middle of the night and yet he's still worried about making Maruki worry about him. He doesn't want Maruki to think he's weak, either. My sweet, sweet child and his debilitating hero complex and aversion to vulnerability...

There's more quiet sniffling from the other side. "I'm sorry," repeats Kurusu. "I'm so sorry…"

Somehow, Takuto doesn't think Kurusu is talking to him anymore.

This is probably my favorite moment in the fic. Akira has already been apologizing, but this is the moment he breaks and starts talking about Akechi, even if he doesn't fully realize it himself yet. My baby boy and his overwhelming crushing guilt. ;-;

Kurusu's apologies deteriorate into sobbing. Takuto listens silently, his heart aching for the kid who helped him so much with his research. He swears to himself, right then and there, that he'll do whatever is in his power to end Kurusu's suffering, no matter what.

Here's the first obvious parallel between Maruki and Akira--they both want to save everyone else. In fact, they believe its their duty to do so, to their own detriment. There's another parallel in here too, with Maruki feeling like he owes Akira for how much he's helped him in his research. I think Akira feels the same way about owing people, since his confidants are all structured as give-and-take deals.

More creaking steps. A squeaky door opens and shuts. Kurusu sighs softly. "I took us back down to the bathroom. I don't want to wake Mona and…the café isn't exactly…um. Forget it. It doesn't matter."

Takuto sets that aside. It's not important right now that he understand Kurusu's situation, so long as he's comfortable where he's at. "Are you feeling any better, Kurusu-kun?"

"Um. I guess?" A pause. He sighs. "No, not really. I'm not." He sniffs again. His next words are muffled, almost unintelligible. "Ugh, fuck."

Obvious reference to Futaba's bugs is obvious.

Since I'm not sure how clear Akira's side of things is from Maruki's perspective, I'll just explain it here. Akira left to "clean himself up" in the bathroom after crying. In reality, the moment he tried to calm down, he just ended up breaking down all over again and cried for almost five minutes. Eventually he forcibly gathered himself so he could be coherent for Maruki and prevent him from worrying about him too much. Akira is assuming when he goes back upstairs to retrieve his phone that he'll be able to have better control of his emotions now that he's let himself cry for a bit. Him saying "fuck" is when he realizes that's not the case, and he hasn't regained his composure the way he thought he did. He's already on the verge of crying all over again.

"No, it's not–I just. I don't…really…talk to people. Anyone. About this stuff. Or…anything." He pauses. "I just…I mean, last month, I went through hell, and even then, I didn't–I didn't talk to anyone. Because I was fine! It was okay. I was okay. But now I'm just–I'm falling apart, and–" He breaks down again, starts to cry. "Goddammit. I shouldn't be–I'm sorry, I never should have called you."

Akira's partially convincing himself he was fine, of course. Akechi's death was just the straw that broke the camel's back (though it was a really huge straw). In a way, though, he's not lying either, because Akira just. cares more about others than he does himself. He can deal with his own suffering and trauma--its the suffering and death of his friend that breaks him.

Takuto wants something to chew on–something to distract himself from this listlessness he feels just listening to Kurusu, unable to help him in any meaningful, measurable way. He settles for the inside of his cheek.

"ADHD Maruki loves his snacks" but angst.

"He was right there," Kurusu continues, "but I couldn't do anything. And then it was too late, and…it's all my fault. I should have done something. I should have reached out sooner, but I didn't know what to do. Maybe if I wasn't so helpless and stupid I could have stopped him but now he's gone and it's all my fault."

Takuto waits until he's sure Kurusu's finished. "Forgive me if my assumption is incorrect, but this friend…did he take his own life?"

Kurusu laughs, and he hasn't sounded more miserable all night than he does now. "Yeah. Something like that."

Yeah. I mean, that's really the only way for Maruki to understand Akechi's death at this point. Once again, Akira blames himself and unrightfully puts all the responsibility on his own shoulders when the circumstances were out of his control. Remind you of anyone else?

"You don't need to apologize," Takuto repeats. He takes a breath and sits back down on his bed. "I'm terribly sorry for what happened to your friend. It's a horrible thing to lose someone that way. But it's important to accept that sometimes circumstances are out of our control and there's nothing we could have done to save them."

Maruki take your own advice challenge (IMPOSSIBLE!)

Seriously, though, Maruki having a double standard for himself and everyone else, where he breaks every rule he sets for his ideal reality because he is the exception, he is the one who must suffer for the sake of everyone else, is so incredibly interesting and tragic to me and I wanted to explore that here. How it doesn't even occur to him to take his own advice because of course it doesn't apply to him. He's the one who must save everyone, because he's the only one who can.

Of course, that complex of his gets a whole lot worse once he's offered the power of a god.

"What do you think he'd say to you now, if he were here?"

"Um…well." Kurusu sighs. "He'd…tell me to move on. That it's stupid to blame myself and that he made his choice."

"He'd want you to forgive yourself and live on for him, then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he would."

Maruki, that's an incredibly generous way to put what Akechi would have to say if he saw Akira crying over him. (He's not wrong, though. That is what Akechi would want, even if that's far from how he'd put it himself.)

"You're a very strong young man, Kurusu-kun. You've endured so much this past year, trials you didn't deserve to face. And yet you've triumphed over them every time. That deserves recognition. It's okay to need help. Losing a friend to suicide is not an easy thing to deal with."

"Yeah. I just…" His voice lowers again. "I wish he were still here. I miss him so much."

"I know."

Okay, there's a lot going on here.

First of all--Akira is definitely misinterpreting Maruki's words right here. Maruki means to be saying that Akira's already dealt with so much that its okay to need help, but he's unintentionally supporting the narrative that Akira's been told by so many other adults. "You're so strong and capable and mature, it's incredibly impressive"--and Akira is internalizing this as they have high expectations for me, I can't fail them. He's seen as strong and capable so he's not ever allowed to be anything less. Its another way that the one adult Akira thought he could rely on ends up failing him by putting far, far too much on his shoulders.

This is something Maruki consistently does throughout the confidant by turning the person he should be counseling into his therapist, and later by placing the fate of the world on Akira's shoulders by forcing him to make the decision of which reality to subject the whole world to all by himself. This isn't a choice Akira should be forced to make, and yet Maruki is making him do it anyway, because he sees Akira as the ultimate arbiter of true justice. Akira is seen as incredibly mature and capable for his age by every adult he befriends and they each tell him so, which absolutely cannot be healthy for a sixteen year old kid to hear.

Second of all--"I wish he were still here." There it is. Akira's wish, everyone. The phrasing was entirely intentional. This is how Maruki finds out about Akechi's death. Once he gains access to Mementos and learns what happened in Shido's Palace (likely through Shido's Shadow), he puts two and two together and realizes the "friend" Akira must have been talking about was Akechi. This is how Maruki knew.

And here's the thing. Akira hates being vulnerable already. This phone call was incredibly difficult for him to make as it was. And now, because he talked to his therapist and told him something so deeply personal--that's why Akechi's brought back. That's why he's forced to go through the trauma of 2/2 and let Akechi die all over again. This is Maruki's ultimate betrayal, to use Akira's vulnerability as a weapon against him and hold Akechi hostage.

I believe Maruki when he says he doesn't want to do this to Akira. But that didn't stop him from doing it anyway. Because he believed his reality was worth putting that huge of a burden on Akira's shoulders, one he'll have to live with for the rest of his life. Imagine the toll that's going to put on Akira now. Imagine how much more difficult it'll be for him to talk to anyone about his problems ever again, for fear it'll be used against him like Akechi was. For fear he might put his friends in danger simply for the sin of opening his mouth and daring to be vulnerable.

Takuto gets up to refill his water glass in the meantime. While digging in the fridge, he ends up grabbing a beer too.

This is a reference to that one cut scene that implies Maruki may be something of an alcoholic. "Ends up" was intentional phrasing--Maruki doesn't see it so much as an active choice. He needs it to cope.

Takuto wishes he could do something, anything, to help him. But even with his powers, not even he can bring back the dead.

✨ Foreshadowing ✨

He finds himself in his office. His research paper is sitting here on the desk, already printed out. This is all he has–that, and his powers, which are currently limited and mysterious, but with the proper research might be able to grow into something that could help so many more than the very few he's helped so far. If only he had the resources to actualize it.

He has to find a way to help people like Kurusu and his lost friend. What he has now isn't much, but it's something, and he's determined to turn it into something more. Something that can save everyone from their suffering for good.

Takuto finishes off a third beer bottle. "I swear it, Kurusu-kun, on my own life," Takuto whispers. "I'll save you and all your friends."

Obvious foreshadowing is obvious. Once again, this is Maruki doing the exact thing he told Akira he shouldn't do--place responsibility on his own shoulders for other people's suffering.

"All your friends" is very intentional phrasing as well. He's including Akechi in that. He doesn't know how yet, just that he has to...well...try to save everyone.

Speaking of the title, its referring to both Akira and Maruki. Akira feels he should have been able to save Akechi, while Maruki feels he must save Akira and everyone else. The title was really what tied the whole one shot together. I realized what the title had to be while thinking about the one shot in the shower, and that's when I discovered what thematic throughline was. It retroactively justified my arbitrary decision to have the one shot be from Maruki's perspective (I initially thought it would just be an interesting experiment since I've never written anything from his perspective before). This one shot is about how Maruki does the exact thing Akira feels he should do. Its about how they're thematic foils, and yet similar in so many fundamental ways. It foreshadows their ideological struggle in the third semester and how they're driven by such similar motivations. And how easily Akira could have become like Maruki if he'd been alone.

[grayintogreen]

Apologies if this has been asked before, but do you have any tips on how to be more proactive writing? I've ADHD and motivation seems to mostly occur late at night. However, work is a thing, so I can't keep writing as long as I may want. I've spent the year writing at least a few words a day, so that's been a big increase from the Not I've been doing before, but I want to increase my writing productivity. Do you have any tips?

This is a time where I wish my Scary Word Count Energy had an actual process behind it beyond "sometimes the neurodivergence hits me in the fact and all I want to do is write."

I used to set word count goals for myself and that helped a lot to get my momentum when I was having a malfunction. (I recommend free phone apps like WordTracker, especially if you like percentages and progress charts.) It lets you set a monthly word goal and then every day you have a set number of words you have to write to reach your goal that adjusts if you write more words or less some days. You'd be AMAZED at how little you have to write to hit 50k a month and there were months where I'd hit 100k.

That's a good motivation starter if you like having something in front of you telling you your goals. The important thing is always just putting the words out there even if they're not polished. The other important part is to just get the basics out there to build a story, so if you're feeling bogged down with descriptions, just keep it simple and go back and add later. If you're a fan of dialogue over narrative, then write the dialogue first. It is way easier to get a story building if you write the dialogue and then fill in the narration around it- at least for me, especially when it's a dialogue heavy narrative. Also dialogue, especially if you love banter and character work, is a lot easier to write.

I also have ADHD and work full time, so even on bad days I try to set around 30 minutes to an hour to write and sometimes I don't write a whole lot in that time, but once you just start making it a habit, it's a lot easier to slam more words into that space and sometimes you just wanna keep going. Sometimes I never get momentum on one project and I use that hour to switch between projects. 500 words between six projects is still 500 words.

I also suggest writing things out of order. Don't even write full stories. Write snippets. Write the stuff that's immediately in your head and make it fit into something else later. I used to follow this person on livejournal who I don't think ever published a full fic of anything- they just posted all of these little snippets of well-written half-formed ideas that popped into their head and it really stuck with me. I used to fill notebooks with stuff like that as a teenager.

I know "just write" is the same advice everyone gets, but it really is the only solution. I've been writing for twenty years across a variety of places in a variety of styles, and I still have days where the words are just not coming for my actual projects so I just write random things and hope one day they'll have a home.

Also this is also basic advice, but nothing makes me want to write more than reading. Not everyone is like that, especially not ADHD-brain people, but from experience even reading a 2k fanfic can make me go omg this made me feel a thing I wanna make other people feel a thing. I'm gonna write!!

Hopefully this helps? I am admittedly very bad at giving advice because nothing about me makes a damn lick of sense.

[truly-quirkless-a]

Type: Lore/History Timeline: Pre-MHA S1, Decades Prior -> Two years prior to S1 Location: America [Vegas | Seattle] -> Japan | America

Note: I re-wrote this after deleting it (out of anxiety) because one of my friends wanted me to post the abandoned writing. So- thank you mate.

A warning that this thing is over 2k words, so- open at your own risk.

[]

It had been a normal day... Well, as normal as things got for Toshinori. Okay...it wasn't quite normal- no the kind of normal he'd personally appreciate, but the blond was more than happy to take the chance to make the world safer. He had been idly working on his classwork, on campus...when he'd begun to feel a burn resonating just above his left wrist. He'd been unable to ignore the call- the warning.

The stronger it stung, the more Toshinori felt he had to go out- to see what was ruining America's day, and make it pay. It had taken no convincing to get David to go on patrol with him- although mentally, the young male promised to get David a drink later for his troubles. It was becoming a habit of his, his strange sort of thank-you...

The burn felt as if someone was trying to cut off his hand, just above the wrist, as he leapt into the air.

"You can't run forever, villain!" He had to project- his voice booming up and down the city street. Glass vibrated from the strength of it, sky-blue eyes practically glowing. Never once did he let his smile falter as he chased his opponent. Soon enough, that burn would stop- he was certain.

"You'll never get me--!" The villain's cry was accompanied by the stranger flipping around. The concrete of the building exploded into ribbons, spiraling towards Toshinori. He raised his fist- channeling the powers he had been given into a hurricane of raw force.

"CALIFORNIA....." The material was closing in. The villain looked so self-assured- so proud of themself. "....SMASH!!!" The force of his fist hitting the concrete had it exploding on impact, dust scattering in all directions. The villain screeched in terror- but he was already leaping forward. The wind blasting behind him like a wave, not enough to level the building or harm its occupants... A quick glance told him that those inside were by-and-large unharmed- already on the opposite side, running for the exits.

The villain had leapt to another building.

"There's no need to fear! Why?---" He put more of the flame within into the next jump. The building creaked, pushed back an inch from its foundations. He soared towards the villain- so fast he could feel the air trying to slice into his skin. The burn in his Words had reached a fever pitch, his smile brightening.

You'll be safe, I promise.

"--Because I AM HERE!"

His fist connected with the villain's face. There was a resounding crack of bone as All Might's opponent was abruptly shot down. It was a massive change in direction- but at least he hadn't been trying to run from Toshinori. That would have made the injuries worse than just (what he assumed) was a cracked jaw.

The shattering BOOM as the villain crashed into the ground made him grin all the wider. He landed a few feet from the crater- eyes locked onto his enemy, waiting a few moments to be sure the villain was out cold. He turned with a grin. Soon, reporters would show- as would the police...

But what made him smile...

Was the burning disappearing.

Sky-blue hues slowly drifted to the sky, that trademark beam a hint brighter- rivaling the sun above. It was such a bright, clear, beautiful day...

[]

"...p-ple--..." It was getting hard to breathe. Their body was pressing into the dirt, their clothes like heavy weights. The ground underneath had been compressed, the few pebbles that hadn't cracked under the pressure cutting into their skin. It hurt--- "...b-brot-her---! AHK-!" They nearly bit their tongue clear off.

Their bones were so heavy--- their organs pressing against one another, their spine a torturous machine pressing into their innards. Tears pricked at hazel eyes, one closed from the pain- the other just barely open.

"I am not your BROTHER! You fucking hear me?!" The sole of a shoe pressed into their hair. They cried out as their chin was cut open, dirt instantly burning into the slashes. "I have a Quirk- I'm going to be someone, unlike YOU!" It raised. They braced themself- biting back a scream as the shoe abruptly came back down, smacking against their skull.

Their sight dotted with black.

"I could never be related to something so-- so-!" The shoe at least pulled away. Their vision was blurry from tears, their body on fire. It was a mistake to think they were safe.

SMACK!

Gravity abruptly tilted for the youth- switching directions as a swift kick crashed into their side. They went soaring, limp body cracking against the fence of their backyard. A pained gasp burst from their lungs. They hit the ground, wheezing for breath.

"---I'm--s-sorr-y---" The crunch of dirt underfoot as they closed their other eye for a moment. They tried to blink away the tears before their brother's Quirk would reactivate- and they would be compressed into the earth again. "--pl-ease,---I'-m sorry,----"

"You better be." A hand rested on their head. The Quirk's effects hadn't returned. Their vision was flashing in and out, their head pounding. Fire blazed in their chest, as if someone had made them swallow gasoline- and then tossed a match down their throat. They had learned a while back not to scream. Even when they were home, their parents...-- "...after all...I'm giving you a use, you ungrateful shit.."

They nodded their head- the simple act causing their sight to black out for a few moments. The pounding in their head got exponentially worse.

"...you are not, nor will you ever be related to me, you got that?" Another nod. "Good." The crunch of footsteps departing...it took a few minutes, laying there, before they were willing to sit up. By that point, Evan was long gone- leaving them looking up at the cloudy sky. Blood dribbled from their chin, staining their shirt- they didn't want to check their other injuries.

They picked themself up- avoiding their parents as they stumbled back into the house. They were silent as they pulled out the already-exhausted medkit from the bathroom. Hazel eyes, as dull as rusty iron, squeezed shut for but a moment.

When would it end?

They'd given up on telling their parents...any attempts were met with 'your brother would never', and 'you're fine, you'll walk it off'...their teachers ignored them- the kids at school bullied them...

They clenched their hands into tiny fists, closing their eyes tight. They didn't care if it hurt- teeth grit so hard they thought they'd crack, their head pounding like they'd gotten hit by several bricks, their thoughts hazy... They didn't care.

I'm going to survive this.

Hazel eyes drifted open- a faint fire burning in them. A stubbornness that would one day become a core piece of who they were- but for now, it was only a fragment- a fragment they clung to desperately. In this life...there was no hope. There were no Heroes...but they were small. Forgettable.

They'd slip through the cracks, one way or another.

I don't care how many years it takes....

The front door slammed- ringing through the whole house. Their tiny heart jumped- only to calm as they realized Evan had left...

...I'm GOING to escape this place...

They hadn't noticed, amongst all the other sensations blazing through their body- that the pain from their throbbing wrist had dulled...and faded away entirely. They recalled the sky, outside...dull. Threatening rain- clouds storming overhead, ready to collapse in on themselves...

I'm going to escape you, Evan.

[]

Toshinori had been quick with the police- handing over the criminal with that eternal smile on his face. The burning had stopped when he'd beaten his opponent, so his soulmate had to be safe, right now! Combine that with some publicity and keeping the general public safe (there hadn't been any injuries, thank God), and his day...was looking great.

He looked up at the bright sun, barely spotting the dark storm clouds on the dark horizon.

Today was a good day... A beautiful day, truly. Soon enough, he'd have to leave America- but he would leave it with the gentle hope that his soulmate- wherever they were, whoever they were...was safe for another day.

I'll keep you safe- even if I'm not there.

He jumped away from the crater, waving to the adoring crowds and fans as he went. If his plan worked- his soulmate would be able to live in a peaceful world. A happy world, where his very presence deterred danger...that was all he could hope for- all he wished for...and all he figured, was already beginning to come true.

[]

"That can't be our baby boy...he would never." Fin's mother gasped as the television played. It had been many years- enough that Fin had grown up, learned more about the world...and now, at the age of twenty-three, they could finally say they'd done it. They were silent as their parents watched in mute shock, disbelief on their faces.

"Tonight, the notorious villain 'Gravity Well' has been apprehended by police. Thanks to an anonymous tip, they were able to locate the villain's various hideouts- and put an end to his bloody rampage." They still didn't believe...of course, why would they? Even when Fin had shown them cuts and bruises, arms and legs that were ever-so-slightly off- their parents had never believed. No hospitals. No doctors. No therapists- Fin had been left to their own devices on how to handle everything... And this.... Was the result. They silently reached for the remote.

"I KNOW IT WAS YOU, YOU QUIRKLESS SON OF A BITCH!!! WHEN I FIND YOU, I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL Y-" The sound went off. Evan was on screen, hazel eyes blazing with unbridled hatred. Red hair that had been dyed away from their family's mix of blonds and brunettes was wild, tangled as he was being shoved into a police car. He was too erratic to use his Quirk- too out of place... Fin didn't smile as they watched the door close, as their father took the remote and changed the channel.

They didn't say a word as they turned away from the television, making their way down the hall. A crumpled letter rested on the nightstand in their bedroom- once Evan's room- unassuming. Calloused, scarred hands silently picked up the letter, unfolding it and reading the contents once again.

[Mx. Well.

For your own safety, you are to be relocated.

Due to your relation to the villain you helped apprehend, you cannot be allowed to remain in the United States. The Witness Protection Association of America has made contact with the Hero Safety Commission in Japan. Enclosed is a single plane ticket, and the address of your new home. Please make sure to read up on the language and culture in the thirty days prior to your relocation.

Once you have been relocated, you will not be permitted to contact any of your friends or family from the States, for both your safety and theirs.

No response is required.

The Witness Protection Association of America]

'Family'....

'Friends'...

They silently folded the paper up once more- before sliding it back onto the nightstand. Fin sat on the bed- and for the first time in many, many years...

They could feel hot tears forming in their eyes.

What family?

What friends?

[]

Something....was different, today.

It wasn't until he transformed back, in an alley, that it occurred to him. For the longest time- for twenty or so years- there had been an almost constant, faint, low-level pain...he'd learned to deal with it easily- after all, it was nothing compared to some of the shit he'd gone through. But in that moment...he could feel it- the pain had stopped entirely, save the natural fire from his scars.

His Words...

They didn't hurt anymore- at all.

Toshinori sighed- a rattling thing that caught in his lung, resulting in a momentary coughing fit of bloody red- he had to wipe his hand against his mouth, getting rid of the worst of it. Maybe he should start caring sanitizing wipes in one of his pockets, or something...

While he was glad that his soulmate was finally out of harm's way...it didn't fill him with joy, as it once did.

They were safe...

It was said that if you had Words, you were destined to meet your soulmate, at least once, before death...but it had been forty-seven years. His Words had never glowed, not once- perhaps he'd simply met them when he was too young to remember, and forgot over time...perhaps the rumors were false, and he would die without ever meeting them.

But he would take solace in the fact that they were safe...whoever they were.

Wherever they were.

A Hero...

Who couldn't even help his other half.

Who didn't have an 'other half', as far as the public was concerned.

He inhaled, slow but steady.

I'll never meet you, I'm sure...but... I'm glad you're safe.

[rwprincess]

Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

[somebitchobsessedwiththerat]

i could be a better boyfriend

warnings: swearing, angst, drinking, cheating, mentions of sex (things got hot and heavy but nothing smutty happens), manipulation.

paring: reader x matthew tkachuk

a/n: ok so i saw a lot of people doing fics based off of this song and i have just now came up with a brilliant idea. since i came up with a valentines day fic after valentines... i have come to redeem myself with this one!! whooo hoooo!! i got a littke carried away here and i'm not sure how i feel about it but; enjoy! <3

word count: 2k+

you hated matthew tkachuk. hated was most likely an understatement. there was no doubt that matthew had the same feelings, you two had never gotten along.

you were only forced to be near him because you so happened to be his younger brother, brady tkachuk's best friend.

you and brady have been attached at the hip since you met back in 2nd grade. you had been bullied by a group of catty girls and brady so happened to be there to defend you. after that, he called you beautiful and gave you his sour patch kids. best friends ever since.

being so close with brady, came along matthew. being the older brother matthew was, he would always come to bother you two whenever he possibly could. you hated him for it.

matthew would always try to ruin your things, rather that be your barbie you had left behind — because you had forced brady to play dolls with you— or a science project you had been working on, count on matthew to destroy it.

brady would often drag you to mathew's games with him because he claimed that it was boring to watch his brother play, and you being you went to every single one with him. going with brady to the games did have a perk.

those games is where you met your current boyfriend, ethan. ethan was a teammate of matthew's for 3 years, in his second year, when you were 15- almost 16- and he was freshly 17, you two had met.

you had instantly taken interest to the boy, he was absolutely gorgeous and had a great sense of humour. after some dates and lots of talking, ethan asked you to be his girlfriend a few years later. you have been dating him for 4 years, he was all your firsts.

ethan however, often had his slip ups. he would lose his temper and take stuff out on you. he would yell, a lot. in the end, he would always apologize a million times and you would have amazing 'im sorry' sex.

somehow, the universe had put you together with someone matthew hated. while matthew claimed to dislike you, he was actually so in love.

he of course never admitted to it, after all you were his little brother's best friend. but thats why matthew had treated you the way he did, because he didn't know how to deal with the crush he had.

when matthew had been drafted to the calgary flames in 2016 and came home for christmas break one season, to see you and ethan officially together wasn't his greatest joy.

matthew was jealous. what made it no better was that, ethan didn't treat you how you deserved to be treated. whenever matthew would come home during the off season, or holidays, he would notice the certain things ethan does that hurts you.

at chantal's yearly christmas parties, he would leave you alone at the table to sit by yourself until brady would notice your loneliness and join you. determined to make you smile at least once. happened every year.

matthew couldn't understand why you dont leave ethan. more importantly, why he can't get over his not so little crush on you.

here you are again, in the middle of the dance floor, alone. holding back tears. ethan had stormed out on you after refusing to do a sexy dance for him in front of all these people.

matthew and brady had seen it all, watching from a distance. brady was always there to make sure nothing happened to you. it was that protective instinct he had.

"i'm gonna kill him, matthew." brady angrily shook his head as he eyed ethan leaving the bar. "he is the biggest ass ever, treats y/n like absolute shit then manipulates her into thinking he is boyfriend of the year."

you sadly joined brady and his brother, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you leaned into him. "ethan is pissed." you mumbled loud enough for brady to hear.

"im pissed." he said, doing everything he could to keep himself from running out of that bar and kicking the living shit out of ethan.

"i'm sure it's nothing though. he just has to calm down and everything will be okay again." you weakly smiled.

"y/n, this... this isn't healthy." matthew added.

"matty im not in the mood for your bullshit." you snapped back. 'matty.' god did matthew hate that nickname, which is why you used it. he never stopped you or corrected you. he liked hearing it out of your mouth. it sounded right.

"bray, can i talk to her for a sec?" matthew asked, getting out of his seat, waiting to replace brady's. brady gave a puzzled look, but then nodded and excused himself to grab another drink.

"what do you want, matty?" you asked, taking a long sip of whatever the bartender had handed you. "want to laugh at me? want to spill some beer all over this ugly dress i didn't even want to buy? whatever it is, i'm not in the mood for it tonight." you rambled.

"y/n, im sorry." he whispered. you quirked your head up.

"sorry?" you questioned.

"yeah. you know... about ethan." he shrugged. "you don't deserve that, to be left alone everywhere you go with him."

"ethan isn't a bad person matthew. why are you apologizing?"

"you dont get it." he sarcastically laughed, "ethan is a dick. he yells at you, then manipulates you to stay with him. dont think i haven't noticed, y/n." he quickly spoke.

"matty i don't get why you care so much." you mumbled.

"look around. what are the chances that everyone is dancing, and he isnt with you?" he looks around at everyone.

you shake your head, "you have no clue what you're talking about."

"you know, i would be a better boyfriend than him." he said faster than he could process. the look on his face said it all. that was not supposed to come out of matthew tkachuk's mouth.

your mouth slightly opened, too surprised to speak. "wha.. what?" you gasped.

"just saying. i could be such a gentleman, never leave you alone. i for sure wont guilt trip you when i know i'm in the wrong. think about it y/n. we are alone... hes not here. the universe had to divine this." he smiled.

"are you drunk?" you chuckled, fully believing he was drunk.

"nope. haven't had a drink all night. this is sprite." he gave a toothy grin. just as she finished, ethan tapped her shoulder.

"what the fuck?" he glared at his former teammate.

"ethan what's your problem?" you asked, you had enough of him at this point.

"my problem is the fact that he just claimed to be a better boyfriend than me? is there something wrong y/n? do i not make you happy? i'm not good enough for your needy self?" he yelled. you winced at his words and how intimidating his never ending stares were, and the stench of beer breath.

"is there a problem here?" the bartender asked from the other side of the counter.

"no everything is alright, thank you. hes just drunk." you politely smiled at the man. ethan grabbed your wist, tightly, dragging you out of the bar, causing you to quietly whimper in pain. "ethan stop, this hurts." he didn't let go.

"hey!" you hear two familiar voices call out. "let her go asshole." brady stormed over, ethans grip on your wrist is gone immediately.

"look dude i'm sorry. i... i dont know what happened." ethan put up an act to yet again manipulate you and now brady tkachuk.

"you're actually so pathetic dude." matthew spoke up. "you're lucky enough to have y/n, and you're out here treating her like dog shit? god you must be one dumb fuck to act like that."

"matty." you sobbed. "just stop."

ethan ran off to God knows where and matthew and brady immediately rushed over to you to make sure you were okay.

"guys i'm fine. he gets like that sometimes. we are happy. i'm happy. i promise."  you lied.

"y/n, i... i just want you to be safe." brady whispered as he pulled you into a hug. you loved brady hugs, they were so comforting.

"i am." you mumbled into his chest. he kissed the crown of your head and rested his head against yours.

"y/n," matthew started. "i'm sorry."

"all good, matthew." you smiled.

***

three weeks later, you were still with ethan, since that night, ethan had calmed down for the most part. instead of taking his anger out on you, he would the apartment when he's mad and blows off steam somewhere away from you.

months later, you walked in on him giving head to some random blonde chick in your bed. you recently learned this was what he blowed his steam off of. you two broke up immediately and havent spoken since.

***

matthew had texted you earlier asking if he could come over. you had said yes and quickly changed out of your ottawa senators t-shirt — a birthday gift from brady.

about an hour later, you heard a knock on your door, opening it up to matthew standing there, looking... nervous?

"look y/n, i know you recently broke up with ethan, but god i need to get this off my chest before i explode." he quickly spoke, closing the door behind you.

"okay? whats up?" you asked more concerned than anything.

"y/n... i... fuck." he said, unable to get the words out of his mouth. "i like you. a lot. fuck there i said it! i like you. i have since i was fucking 12!" you stood there staring at matthew. partly contemplating where your own emotions stood.

"you just broke up with your boyfriend, of course i don't expect you to tell me you like me. i'm twenty four, i can handle rejection. so if you dont have anything to say, then i don't except anything." he nodded, taking deep breaths.

without thinking you walked over to him and crashed your lips against his. matthew hesitated for a moment but melted right into you and kissed you back. it felt right. ethan was a great kisser, but this kiss felt... natural. if anything, it felt perfect.

your lips swiftly mashed together as you backed up on the couch, cradling his lap. "matthew." you mumbled against his lips. he stopped, looking at you alarmed.

"what? whats wrong?" he asked breathlessly.

"we can't." you whispered. "trust me. i want to. i want to so fucking bad... oh fuck it." you closed the gap in between you and matthew. slightly grinding on his lap to create some sort of friction. matthew took advantage of the small moan that had escaped your lips and slid his tongue in your mouth.

your tongues danced as you continued to make out. it had gotten really hot in the apartment really fast. matthew had broken the kiss only to pull your sweater off. leaving you in your bra and jeans.

"oh my god." he mumbled against your lips as you rubbed against him. small moans were released every now and again. "i need you." he grunted as he took his own shirt off.

you rested your hands on his chest. "i need you really fucking bad." he repeated.

"then take me." you whispered. "i want you too matty."

"ladies first, i insist." he winked.

***

that night had only been the beginning of a beautiful relationship. two months later, matthew had officially asked you to be his girlfriend and from there, you have never been happier.

you found it ironic that the kid you've always hated, became the love of your life. maybe it was meant to happen. your best friend happens to be his brother and you dated his asshole ex-teammate.

in the end matthew was right, he was a better boyfriend than ethan ever was.

***

[t0shiwebs]

STUDY DATE. (tsukishima x reader )

you managed to convince your crush tsukki to study with you, although he looks like the unbreakable type. that’s exactly what you were planning to do.

a/n : almost 2k words :D

softdom!reader x switch!tsukki

- overstimulated, tsukki accidentally man handling reader, oral (f&m), ( mentions )rough sex??, blindfolded and tied up tsukki, dom / sub themes, light mommy kink , u call him bunny <3

you were probably the only girl who was (in your head) kind of obsessed with him, however on the outside you looked shy and nervous more than half of the time.

he smirked down at you whenever he saw your small meek face. doe eyes lighting up unknowingly to both of you. he was so greedy but so were you, not letting yamaguchi talk to you as much as he did sitting next to you in almost every class and you thought that was your doing. he made sure a lot of things happened because in his mind you were his.

you imagined for days upon days to be able to shove your fingers down his throat whilst bouncing on his long fairly thick cock. overstimulating him as he whines craning his back, you yank him forward again rising and slamming yourself against him.

a small hand waved you out or your trance. yamaguchi's shy smile peered over at you as you frantically put yourself together again walking to literature class. again he was there unbeknownst to you he was earnestly waiting on you.

his mind went as he thought of you between his legs your weak throat needing some guidance, you stare and whine placing your cheeks against his thigh mouthing at them, rutting against the floor desperately.

the teachers bored voice broke them out of their tense thoughts smiling briefly at eachother.

" class today there will be a project needing to be completed by next week! you will work in partners of your choice, you may now leave!" the teacher exclaimed exhaustingly.

you had decided to make the first move feeling the God sent moment right in your hands.

" uh, hey! would you like to be partners?" you asked, voice trembling without realising it. he maintained a bored expression but his heart was alight. a curt nod left you both happier than before.

although he saw the way you played with your frilly skirt and stumbled over your words he saw the glint in your eyes. it was similar to his.

the day went on; you becoming extremely impatient, waiting for the day to end. once the bell rang you felt your body direct itself straight home.

living alone, you didn't really care about upkeep too much however you kept a fairly clean. you made sure your whole house was in place mainly because you didn't want him to judge you if your plan didn't go well.

hours later you felt a soft knock on the door rushing brushing down your long night gown. sliding on your pretty slippers it was only around 5-6 pm so your wear was normal.

"hi." you breathed out stopping yourself from smiling at his also very comfy attire.

he replies mainly with a grunt but you soon both became fairly comfortable as you offered him food and led him to your room. continuing with your workload you couldn't help but notice his near constant twitching and fiddling with himself.

" hey tsukki?"

"tsukki.." he questioned, more to himself

" yes, what's wrong you keep uh, moving around?" you tried to sound as ambiguous as you could. however you couldn't really keep it in you to lay your innocent act.

you arm slithered across his shoulders as you pulled him away from the scattered papers across the floor.

" i asked a question?" you hummed slowly massaging his shoulders.

he mumbled incoherent words squirming in your arms. you manoeuvred yourself around him so you were right next to his earlobe.

you took the lobe into your mouth suckling gently and breathing slightly heavily into it. the sensation making him arch his back naturally into you. giggling softly your hands make their way across his lean figure to his stomach.

"are you going to answer me?" repeating yourself watching him, his eyes were shut in anticipation he was achingly annoying.

" i- im just col- cold." he breathed out , it wasn't supposed to be like this ? he thought to himself, but his ecstasy took over as you pinched one of his nipples. rolling the digit around you had also found purchase on his neck.

for the first time you heard him whine loudly. a first but definitely not the last time.

" yeah ? " you coaxed

" wan' me to warm you up?" you carried on fingers just hovering over his hard nipples. he was growing impatient but it felt too good to have your dainty hands and wet lips hovering over all his sensitive spots.

" please." he said it was almost a whisper but his pride was too much for begging.

you took a long deep sigh and fully let of him making your way back down to your work pile.

he was shocked nonetheless trying so hard not to give him to his desperate side.

he squirmed in confusion. light annoyed grunts leaving him you turned to look at him one eyebrow raised.

" you don't saw much for someone who wants to be denied so easily." you stated nonchalantly

" i-i please- please!" his voice hoarse with desperation as he was quick to signal you over to him almost dragging you. smirking to yourself, you made your self comfortable between his legs they were easily uncovered as he quickly took his trousers off pulling his clothed cock nearer and nearer to your wet mouth.

" alright bunny , what do you want me to do?" you questioned innocently but sternly. he growled fairly loudly. he suddenly grabbed your face thrusting his hips into you his painfully slow thrusts became ruts as he grew even more impatient, cooing at him with your hands gripped at his waist stroking him slowly you decided to indulge in him placing your tongue flat against the head although covered it was effortlessly prominent against his boxers.

his eyes rolled back becoming even faster that you could barley keep up. it was all too good for him he just couldn’t help it.

" mphm! okay! alright bunny hm? slow down you'll hurt yourself okay?" you managed to cause him to slow down another whine leaving him at the lost of friction. you guessed he didn't really react well to degrading at least not yet.

you kissed up his thigh the pale skin becoming red as you sucked hickeys into his skin breathing fanning over his clothes cock he tried to stop himself constantly from bucking his hips instead his breathy moans filled the room yet you hadn't even done anything yet. it was embarrassing he thought. he's pathetic you thought. but it was too good for the both of you to stop.

you quickly took off the boxers becoming impatient to be met with the pulsating redness of his cock, fairly thick but he made up for it in length and girth.

"m- mommy please! suck me off" he begged. he begged.

" mommy huh?  okay bunny just be patient for me okay?" you say with faux- endearment stroking his thigh the name made your pussy insanely wet your fingers went down to lightly touch over your slick folds lightly moaning to yourself.

you eyes caught sigh of his fat balls. they made your mouth water you quickly latched yourself onto one suckling softly whilst mildly moaning.

tsukki felt euphoric maybe the deprivation tainted his feelings but god did it feel good. he moaned loudly as you moved up kissing his cock licking stripes up the prominent veins all the way to the top.

you sucked hard on the head , coated with precum begging for attention. he again let out louder almost painful moans.

he was cumming embarrassingly fast but he couldn’t help it. you just wouldn’t let him go your throat was so tight, tongue so wet everything felt so good too good.

“ cum- cumming ! please- please don’t stop.” he sounded so vulnerable so, desperate.

“ ah, ah bunny not yet what about me?” you said pouting at him. you were fast to let go of your vice like grip on his cock him erratically whining.

you were quick to grab the blindfold and rope from one of your drawers not taking in his confused yet fearful eyes tying his hands to your bed post.

blindfolding him he said nothing protest either.

“ wait- wait what are you doing?!” he stated in panic, it seemed to have set in late however you swooped in and kissed him.

tongues interlocking, you sucked on his wet muscle whilst letting out breathy moans all to comfort him really but maybe also for your own indulgence.

he chased your lips seeming to have forgotten about his tied, blindfolded state in a trance you made out with no sign of stopping.

he wanted to grab your head turn you over and pin you to the bed but he couldn’t his brain made him stuck in a position so submissively.

you reluctantly pulled away covering his face in kisses.

“ okay bun, im gonna sit on your face now okay? help mommy feel good.” you said stroking his face.

he nodded fast almost immediately sticking his tongue out at your words.

you slowly took of your skirt and soaked panties inorder to tease him. you sopping pussy only just hovered over his face. his nose indulged in your scent becoming restless he wanted no needed to taste you.

“words?”

“ mommy please let me taste you, ive been good i need it so so bad- please.”

you were fast to sit on his face your thighs sandwiching his face. fat tongue flat on your clit you moaned out wantonly. riding his face desperate to find your high.

he sucked licked even nosed your pussy he wanted to taste you so bad it was almost killing him.

you were fast ly approaching your blissful high but unlike you tsukki make no attempt to stop or tease you which surprised him and you both.

you finally came all over his face he was too busy suckling the remains of your milky end to notice you had already taken off the blind fold and the restraints.

his eyes opened slowly taking in his surroundings once more still kitten licking your cum.

“you were so so good for me bunny.” you said your fingers wading through his hair.

“i- thank you.” he said with a short smile

suddenly, he flipped you over cock just slipping in and out of your pussy and you felt yourself getting wet again.

“mommy you didn’t let your good boy cum?”

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

Note: this was a commission I got from a supporter on ko-fi. I hope that you’ll read it with the same enjoyment I had while writing it. If you want to commission or support me check the pinned post or the hyperlink, you’ll find all the details there. If you have questions, my DM is open 🤗. Also, your comments are always welcomed.

Promt: Wesker forgets about the reader’s birthday.

Pairing: Wesker x F!Reader

Word count: 2K

Type: fluff.

Wesker placed the samples with care on the table, starting his day as usual. He’s been spending his last few years, stuck in the lab researching all over again in order to achieve the wanted results. Since Uroborus is a high importance plan, he’s very meticulous about his schedule, respecting every minute precisely. Not a minute early, not a minute late. The only thing that he tries to put outside his schedule is you because he doesn’t like limiting the time he spends with his sweetheart. He cares so much about you that over the years he sees you as his equal, so he plans to inject you with the progenitor virus, a weaker strand because he can’t risk killing you. Because of this, he wants to do it on a special day, but the many opportunities that arrived didn’t fit in his schedule. The greatest gift he ever received was the power he got after breaking the confines of humanity, so he wants you to experience the same joy. Wesker kept thinking about it but he would get distracted by his work, so his present would always be in the planning stage. He doesn’t want to do it suddenly, he wants to introduce the idea slowly to you because he respects your boundaries.

Once you earned his respect, Wesker can be a very carrying partner, human even. He knows every little detail about his sweetheart, from her birthday to what she last ate. It can seem creepy when you put it like this, but this is nothing more than a lover who deeply cares about his partner and seeks to make her happy. Wesker is not the greatest at showing it though because of his work life. He has little to no time to show his affection. He still shows you that he is there for you, but not as much as he wants, making him more frustrated. Sometimes when he comes home from work he is so tired he barely sees you, let alone talk with you. He either collapses on the couch or bed and falls asleep as you talk with him because he is just too exhausted to carry the conversation. This doesn’t sit right with him because he gives all of his attention and energy to his work and doesn’t have any left for the only person that matters to him, making him wonder if it’s all worth it.

The relationship didn’t have a great start, since you expected Albert to be with you at least 8 hours a day but you’re lucky if you catch him once a week. He’s not the type to express himself and constantly expects others to read his mind, so you two would end up fighting. You have mistaken the lack of presence as rudeness and indifference, basing your reasoning on all the rumors you heard until you realized they were all stupid. Wesker proved to be the contrary, talking so nicely to you and not belittling you at all even if you piss him off. The amount of respect this man offered you even from the beginning is astonishing. He was so transparent with you and with all he does and he had so much patience until you understood. He was just a working man with probably burnout syndrome, so you took the responsibility to take care of him.

His phone buzzed since he started his work. Calls, messages, idiots without brains, as he calls them, needed help doing their job. When he had enough he picked up his phone and started to scroll down through notifications. Some of these people make him curse like a sailor, especially the one who texted him the most. As useful as Excella is in helping with his projects, as annoying she can be. Hundreds of messages and calls, some related to work some not. A particular question caught his attention.

“Do you think y/n would like this?” A picture of a purse was attached. Excella can’t stand you for obvious reasons, but out of respect for Albert, she tries to be friends with you. Still, why would Excella buy something for you out of the blue?

“Is something special today?” He thought.

The horrifying grimace when the realization hit cannot be described. Today is indeed a special day, your birthday. To be honest, he doesn’t care about birthdays. He despises them because they are a reminder of our mortality, but he knows how much you care about such occasions. Every year you got him something even if he insisted not to buy anything for him. Seeing you care and how much you enjoy receiving gifts he changed his mindset. Usually, he would give you something common, just as others would, but then he began to put more effort until there wasn’t anything material in this world to give. That’s how the progenitor virus gift arises in his head. However, he’s been so caught up with his research on Uroborus that he completely forgot to make the preparations. You don’t feel the days pass when you’re stuck in a lab all the time. He puts the phone aside, grabs his coat, and rushes out of the building ignoring the people that are trying to talk with him. If not the virus, he will have to find something common.

He’s not a fan of last minutes gifts but he has no choice. The guilt crushed him further as he remember he hasn’t talked with you all day. The ride to the jewels store felt like ages, even if it was relatively close. Luck was on his side since he found the store open.

None of the jewelry in front of him caught his attention because it wasn’t something he hopes of giving you. He already buried you in gold. You have the finest, unique, and expensive jewels in the world. He wouldn’t have been injected you in a lab of course. He wanted a special place for your rebirth. All of his ideas were put on paper, but probably got lost in the pile of reports. All he wanted was to see you smile on the most important day of your life, perhaps looking at him with the same eyes as his. He wanted to make you feel as you were the center of his universe, his queen, but he failed miserably. Maybe if he had gotten any outstanding results today he wouldn’t be so upset, but it was just another ordinary day. The lady tried talking with him but he was lost in his thoughts. Knowing it’s late and that you’re waiting for him, he bought a pearl necklace and left in hurry. On his way home he tried thinking of what to say, what excuse would be the best but he concluded that all of them were outdated.

Before opening the door, he hid the small package in the inner pocket of his coat. That lady was in hurry to close the store and didn't want to wrap the necklace if gift wrap. Wesker will remember that.

“I’m home!” He shouted once he entered. He may screw up, but he is not a man who runs away from conflict or a man who doesn’t own his mistakes.

“I thought you’d spend the night in your lab.” She said while giving him a peck on his cheek. “You need a vacation dear, you’ll be worn out before your time”

You were so carrying with him, so kind, but he couldn’t enjoy it. He didn’t deserve your kindness.

“There is something I need to tell you.”

“About?” You were starting to get worried. He left in hurry this morning and you didn’t hear anything from him all day. Excella told you briefly about him, but she talked more about the purse she bought for you which was more for her taste, not yours. Judging by his face you realized he had something on his mind, but you would never think it was because he forgot about your birthday. You expected him to talk about an outbreak rather than your forgotten birthday. To your surprise, he started apologizing.

“I was so caught up in my work I-“ he considers apologies a waste of time since we could do better things with our mortality and limited time, but for a reason, humans care about these.

“It’s alright my love.” You caress his face as a reassuring sign. “I understand.” You’re not upset at him. He genuinely cares about you and you can’t judge him, not after all the good things he has done for you. And besides, you know he doesn’t fully mean it, but you appreciate that he still does it for the sake of your feelings.

You began to caress his cheeks, to place small kisses all over his face. You see him rarely so you make sure to show him how much you love him as well. You hug him and he instantly hugged you back. After a while, you broke the hug and lead him to the couch so you can talk about each other’s day. He’s thankful you both moved on.

Eventually, you two got more comfortable. You let all your weight fall over his body as his strong arms were wrapped around your torso. His big hands were caressing your back while you found your peace in that small, almost suffocating, clasp. You almost fell asleep when a gentle squeeze woke you.

“I almost forgot.” He said, almost whispering, before handing you your gift. “It’s not what I had planned, but I hope you’ll find it enjoyable.”

Hazily, you took the small box Albert handled to you. It was a normal, jewelry box with the logo of the store on it. Inside there was a beautiful, shiny pearl necklace. Your delicate fingers touched the pearls with care, feeling their gritty texture and small bumps here and there. It weighs heavy in your hands. You fell in love instantly with the accessory. Seeing how happy you are, Albert offered to put it at your neck. Its elegance enhanced your natural beauty. It looks like it was made solely for you, like an extension of your body.

“I bet it was a lot.” You said with a somehow sorrow in your voice. You don’t want Albert to spend heavy money on you, because it’s his presence that you enjoy and value the most.

“Don’t worry about it, I like spending money on you.” And it was true, he loves dressing you in the most expensive clothing to flatter your body. You’re a goddess to him. Not to mention it strokes his ego to know that he’s able to provide such beautiful things to you. “At least this is what I can do.”

“And it’s perfect this way.” You can see him relax a little.

“I’ll make it up to you, I just need some time.” Time, mortality, death. Once again he was reminded of his plan that was supposed to fix humanity's greatest flaw, and his expression suddenly changed. That didn’t get past Y/N’s attention.

“Albert sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, some problems I need to solve.”

“Are they urgent?”

“Yes, very.”

“I’m sure they can wait until tomorrow.”

He scanned your body carefully. You weren’t getting any younger. Time left its mark on you. Not in an unpleasant way, but still noticeable.

“There something I need to tell you.” He said while sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you how you admire your new necklace. In the lights of the vanity mirror the pearls shine brighter, being more appealing than before making it impossible to take your eyes off them.

“What is it?” You said while gazing at your own reflection.

He choose his words carefully, but no matter how he put them, it could scare you. It’s not the time or the place. He doesn’t want to ruin your happiness. His actual surprise might not sit well with you, but it’s not your choice after all. If he considers it the best option for you he will do it regardless of your opinion. Still, this day came out better than he expected.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Tags: @xx-sectumsempra-xx @residentzero2028 @heisentitties (dm if you wanna be in the tag list)

[hyunnows]

love, [Y/N] | jjk

► PAIRING: Jungkook x reader

► CONTENT/WARNINGS: angst, mentions of fluffy memories, mc death, lots of Jungkook tears, best friends!au, mentions of unrequited love

► WORD COUNT: 2k+

► RATING: pg13

► SUMMARY: "It’s not fair that he was holding the last of you in his hands, unable to focus on anything other than the last words he’ll ever receive from you."

↳ A/N: I got this idea at 2:36 am and I don't know where it came from but oh well. This was meant to be a 300-word blurb and we ended up at 2k lol. I haven't written anything for Jungkook compared to Tae, and honestly, this maknae has been climbing my bias list so here's a semi-self-indulgent fic filled with angst and crying! I hope you enjoy it, please feel free to leave feedback and reblog! Also, STREAM BUTTER!

Positive note | Navigation | Taglist

Shaking with fear, Jungkook gripped your hand tightly, tears pouring out his red eyes as your patient monitor fluctuated slightly. With a quivering lip, he croaks, “C'mon [Y/N], wake up. For me? Please…”

He feels your small fingers squeeze his own gently, weakly, and hope beams across his face. But just as soon as the hope had come, it vanished, your paling fingers going stiff in his palm. The once steady beeping now a quickly accelerating sequence, the sound ringing in the brunet boy's ears as his eyes go wide and breath cuts short.

He feels the nurses pull at him, trying to drag him out the room and he thrashes against them, his nails digging into your hospital bed with all their might until his knuckles turn white and his vision blurs. Loud sobs rack through his body as he slumps in the nurses’ arms, pressing the balls of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears and the burning. His cries almost choke him, the occasional cough jerking his body harshly.

When he sees the familiar face of the doctor, he prays that the downcast gaze and frown don't mean what he thinks.

“[L/N] [Y/N],” Seokjin takes a breath, his own eyes beginning to water at the words he's about to utter, “time of death: 2 am… I'm sorry Jungkook. I did everything, I-I tried every voltage and pumped her with liquids a-and everything I could d-do—I couldn't save her. I'm so—so sorry.”

It's like his entire world has crumbled in a second. His arms and chest are suddenly heavy, his lips, throat, and face feel dry and dehydrated, and his eyes can't decide if they want to be open or closed because of the stinging sensation they feel when he tries either. Sitting on the floor in front of your room, he takes the hand Jin outstretched and wobbles inside, only to fall back down the moment he sees your dull figure.

He doesn't care that a small crowd can see him babbling incoherently as he tries to apologize to you through his sniffles and whimper, crawling to your hand and lacing his fingers through yours.

Eventually, Taehyung and Jimin pick him up and drag him out of the building you took your last breath in. Jungkook didn't try to resist, knowing he was in no shape to put up a fight or drive himself home. He needed to get out of there anyway, the smell of death only he could detect suffocating him slowly.

On his way upstairs, Taehyung holds him back, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a short stack of envelopes—maybe two or three—rubber-banded together and hands them to the younger. “Her first day in the ER, she m-made me promise to give you these if she—if she… You know…”

Hearing they were yours, he takes them gently and swiftly, immediately holding them close as if they were his lifeline. He gives Taehyung a silent, stiff nod before turning and dragging himself to his room.

He doesn't open them right away, taking his time to admire your adorable calligraphy and observing every smudge or erased pencil mark you'd left on their light material.

He's not surprised to find every letter addressed to him, because it wouldn't be the first time you two had given each other messages the old-fashioned way, and he smiled softly at the “before you read” attached to the first envelope.

If you're not Jeon Jungkook, please don't read these. If you are, know that I'm still with you, in these letters, in your heart, our memories and that I will always be here, even though I'm sorry I can't physically be here with you right now. These are letters I've written to you, but never sent. They're from the bottom of my heart and they say everything I've ever wanted to tell you.

—[Y/N]

His heart beats harder as he opens the first letter, doing his best not to tear the envelope and keep it perfectly intact for him to save.

There are two Polaroids safety-pinned to the letter, both with his face and yours smiling brightly at each other. He gently unclips them, tucking them safely into the [Y/N]-specially decorated sleeve. He breathes in deeply and unfolds the letter, immediately tearing up at your handwriting on the wilting paper.

Dear Jungkook,

I know you don't think it's cool or modern to send letters, so I won't send this.

Anyway, I want to thank you for always being there for me, my big, strong, human-shoulder-tissue. I couldn't be luckier than I am to have you as my best friend.

And I know this is going to sound cheesy, but I love you more than anyone or anything in this world. You're the diamond to my sky, the sun to my earth, and the person I would choose to spend the rest of my life with.

In other words, I'm in love with you, Jeon. I wish you were in love with me, but I'm already the happiest girl in the world being by your side every day.

Your Best Freind,

[Y/N]

His heart pounds against his ribs, because you had been in love with him. You had wanted him to be the last face you'd ever see. You were right in front of him, your heart on your sleeve for who knows how long, and he hadn't known until you were dead. His face contorted into one of pain at the reality, and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears, taking long, shaky breaths before opening the second letter.

This note is considerably newer than the first, its edges still white and crisp, but the deepness of the creases tells him it's at least a few months old.

Dear Jungkookie,

Lately, I've been sick—which you know because I've told you. I haven't told you about my feelings yet because I don't want to scare you or pressure you, but I'm probably going to die before I ever get to tell you these things.

Since I told you how I felt in the last letter, I'm going to try and describe why in this letter. Reason number one, your presence. You always manage to just enter a dark, tense room and make it so much brighter and more comfortable. I don't know if it’s your smile or your laugh or the way you don't care if you're embarrassed or not, but you just manage to make everyone feel comfortable in themselves.

Reason number two, your kindness. I had never seen someone run back inside, get an entire table's worth of food, and give it away before. You're always so willing to give, despite the cost. I hope you never change.

Reason number three, it's kind of odd but I fell in love with your voice. Not just the way it sounds pretty when you sing, but the way it has the power to comfort whoever you’re singing to. I’ve always been able to come to you for support and comfort.

Reason number four is you know how to turn a bad day into a good one. You can talk to anyone who’s down for five minutes and you’ll turn them into a giggling, grinning mess.

Reason number five, you’ve always made me feel loved. Even though our entire relationship has been platonic—at least on your side—you’ve always checked up on me, held me, and made sure I knew I was enough and I can’t thank you enough for that.

Number six is your passion. You always put your all into everything you do. Be it making breakfast for the boys or helping me with a project I put off until the last minute, you make sure it’s all or nothing.

Seven is that you taught me how to love unconditionally. I always believed in falling in love and finding the one, but I never knew how intense it felt to be able to give your all to someone and not expect a single thing in return—until I met you. From the way your nose scrunches when you smile, to how you tilt your head when you’re confused, I love it all. From the best thing about you to the worst, it’s all you, and I wouldn’t want you to ever change. Every scar and blemish, each pore and lash, I’ve fallen in love with all of them because they make you, you.

I know you don’t feel the same, and in complete honesty, I love you so much I don’t even care. As long as you’re happy and I’m able to spend as much of my time by your side I’m happy.

He chokes on a sob when he finishes the second letter, tears dampening the card stock as he shivers. His heart clenches harder as he folds it back up, giving both pictures a once over before pinning them back on the letter.

Opening up the last envelope, a cry racks through his body, and he’s ugly crying now. The necklace he’d given you perfectly washi-taped against the letter. He pulls it off, tucking it tightly into his palm, and holds his breath. This time, the letter is a small, short piece of paper folded in half once.

He almost can’t read your small, dainty handwriting through his bubbling tears, but manages.

Hi Jungkook. Did you see the necklace?

It’s the one you bought me for my fifteenth birthday, that I told you I had lost. For a while, I had, and I remember I was too scared to tell you, but you noticed before I could anyway. I was so relieved you weren’t mad at me because I didn’t know what I would do if you were. I still don’t.

Anyway, the point of this short, last letter is to tell you how I want you to remember me. I don’t want you guys to think of me as your sickly friend who died when you were in your twenties… but I want you to remember the good memories we made together. I want you to remember the day we met, when I accidentally broke your bike and when we were both grounded for four months for sneaking out of our houses for our first party. I want you to remember how we got sick together because you couldn’t let me walk home alone in the rain, but you couldn’t drive and we both forgot jackets and umbrellas. I want you to remember the day you forgave me for losing the most precious thing anyone has ever given me, because that’s the day I fell in love with you.

This paper’s running out of space so I’m going to wrap this up. I want you to remember everything good about our time together, and not what ended it. Don’t think about how I’m gone, because I’m still with you, after death. These letters, the photos, and this necklace are what I’m leaving behind for you to keep. Don’t cry when you think of me, don’t think of the fact that we’ve been making our last memories, just don’t forget me.

Jungkook clutches the necklace tighter, afraid to drop it. Not only had he lost you, but he’d also missed out on the opportunity to be with you because he’d been too scared to ask you out while you were alive. He’d been in love with you since you two were eleven, tried to confess to you when you were fifteen, and lost you at twenty-three.

It’s not fair, he decides, it’s not fair that your love never got a real chance and it never would. It’s not fair that all these years you thought your feelings were one-sided when he reciprocated them ten-fold. It’s not fair that he was holding the last of you in his hands, unable to focus on anything other than the last words he’ll ever receive from you.

He sucks in a deep breath, barely croaking out your sign-off, “Love, [Y/N].”

Positive note | Navigation | Taglist

[annie-mit-ie]

Glimpses: Part 12 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: Will you be able to go with Kathryn?

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is a little shorter, I know, but I hope all of you still enjoy it. Look at this little tag list we have going on now!! - I might actually get a little emotional that so many of you are still reading this little story. With all that being said, here we gooooo. xx

Tag List: @danvers97 @zafirosreverie @srtamercurio @wanatag @pulledbythestars17 @plantowl​

Don't forget to check out the new official Playlist! :)

_____________________________________________________________________________

“You can’t take her.” Jennifer is walking up and down in Kathryn’s office. She arrived here right after you had left, ready to plan to thrip to New York, as well as the upcoming project. Kathryn shifts her focus from her hand to her manager and huffs. 

“NO. Kathryn, no. You know it yourself. First of all, she is a distraction. Yes, you like her, I KNOW, but this is not you. This is not how you do your job.” Jennifer looks at her boss with pleading eyes.

Running her fingers through her long mane, Kathryn bites the insides of her cheek. “you’re right, I know you are, but at the same time…”

“NO BUTS, Kathryn.” Jennifer interrupts her, prompting Kathryn to shoot her a short glare. 

“…but at the same time I haven’t been this happy in years.” Thinking back at the time you spent with her, a small smile creeps onto her face.

Jennifer gets it. She understands Kathryn’s point, but as her manager it’s her job to secure the actress’ job, which is why she needs to make sure there are as few distractions from work as possible included in the trip.

Placing a hand on her arm, Jennifer looks at Kathryn with warm eyes. “Sweetie, I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it either, because I know how good the time with her is for your heart. But we can’t have this. Not now. Not during your shining moment. Yeah?”

Slowly but surely, Kathryn starts to nod as she can feel the sadness rise in her chest.

Meanwhile, you and Alex are having the same conversation back in your room. She tries to talk sense into you and talks animatedly to her phone, as you try to find a way to accompany Kathryn.

“Honey, you simply can’t. There is no way. It’s during the exam phase. You can’t be abroad for that.” She shakes her head.

Considering your options, you try to talk against her. “I could ask for online exams.”

“… there is a multiple hour time difference - you can’t be serious, Y/N.”

“I could postpone exams?” You raise an eyebrow.

Alex shakes her head harder now. “NO GIRL. No. Kathryn wouldn’t want you screwing up your education for this. You have leftover classes, exams to write and then you’ll have to write term papers you have to prepare for,” you take a visible breath. “Yes love, I am aware you could write those on set but we all know you wouldn’t. It’s better for you to stay.”

You want to argue. You really do. But there are a few things holding you back. First of all, you know Alex makes a valid point. Second of all, you don’t even know where you are standing with Kathryn. What are you to her? What is happening with her? The lines are so blurry that it’s hard for you to see, so you think it might be better not to assume and make a fuss about all of it.

Lastly, you don’t even know if she wants to have you by her side in the first place, because, again, it’s not like she is your girlfriend or anything. Not that you wouldn’t want her to be.

So, just like Kathryn does with Jennifer, you agree to what Alex says and make your decision to stay, even though it hurts your heart just as much as it hurts hers.

Given the fact, that she has to leave for New York right the next morning, it’s not possible for you to see her again. You think back at the soft kiss she planted on your lips as you left her house under yesterday’s hot afternoon sun. You feel so good with her and you can’t stop to think back at how beautiful her eyes look up close - even more beautiful than on all her pictures that Alex and you have been sending back and forth whenever Kathryn did a new promo shoot.

It’s late afternoon as you’re lying on your bed and stare at the ceiling, a random Marvel movie running in the background.  Alex has been trying to hype you up all day, but, given the fact that Kathryn is gone for an unforeseen time, you still feel sad.

You turn off the movie because you can’t seem to concentrate and connect your phone to the speakers to play some music. You remember that you can sit on your windowsill that’s facing the backyard and and decide to sit down and watch the birds in the tree outside your window as you open Spotify and it starts playing the last song you stopped on. “She” by dodie fills the room and you don’t think you related to a song like that ever before.

It really describes the feelings of uncertainty that you have right now. It doesn’t help that you never really took the chance to talk to her about all of not. Not properly, at least. This mistake leaves you with this endless feeling of emptiness that seems like it’s eating you up from the inside as you don’t even know if she feels the same in any way. 

Your phone chimes and you nearly fall off the windowsill as you shoot up to reach for it. It’s the group chat you thought had died a while ago that you joined right after Kathryn appeared on Wandavision. 

Apparently, news of Kathryn’s casting already sank through and everyone is screaming about it. Unwilling to share any knowledge, and also way too careful with it, you want to put your phone away as it chimes again and your eyes widen.

You immediately click the message.

“New York is wild! Haven’t had time to get to you yet. Seems like everyone and their mom wants to speak to me today. Just left my second meeting and now I have to leave for a work dinner in a few. How’s the day going back home? xxx K.”

A bright smile creeps onto your face as you realize she uses the “everyone and their mom” phrase that you use so much whenever you describe difficult situations to her. You decide not to reply immediately - you don’t want her to assume you are sitting on your phone just waiting for her. 

Instead you opt to create some art and grab your supplies. There is an empty canvas behind your bed and you feel like there are enough feelings trapped in you to create something cool on it.

Your mom works long on Mondays, so you haven't realized just how much time has passed as you perform the last of the night and call it a day. Your picture is colorful. Very much so. The acrylic paint hasn’t even dried yet, but there are already tons of ideas floating around in your head about what to do with the artwork from here on out. Maybe you should get some fine liners and work out the edges, maybe do some highlighting as well, you don't know yet.

Just as you want to put the brush aside your phone lights up on your bed. You can't pick it up just now because the slowly drying paint sticks to your fingers and you anxiously reach for the closest paper towel to white it off as best as you can. Not expecting anything, you finally reach for your phone and pick up the call before reading the name - an automatic reaction to late night calls from Alex.

You are greeted by a very familiar, yet unexpected, face. Kathryn smiles into the camera and adjusts the lights around her. She is clearly in her pjs, with no make up on, her hair open and messy, falling off her shoulder. You can see she is wearing a loose gray shirt and your whole body starts tingling as you realize it's the shirt she gave you to sleep in last weekend. Immediately, your brain runs wild and you try to figure out if she packed this exact shirt on purpose or just grabbed the one that was available easiest as she was probably in a rush.

Luckily, Kathryn interrupts your train of thought. “Hey! Hiya hon! I just wanted to check in. Make sure you’re alright because you haven’t replied to my message.”

For the first time you look at the clock. It’s 8.30pm and you haven’t had dinner yet.

“Shit.”, you mutter and your hand flies to cover your mouth immediately. 

Kathryn, who hasn’t heard your muttering, looks confused. “Sweetheart, is everything alright?”

You smile thankfully. “Yes! Yes it is. I guess I was just wrapped up in my art and you pulled me out of it and I always need a minute to adjust. I’m fine. It’s late though and I haven’t eaten yet. Thank you for reminding me.”

“Good. Do you want me to order you pizza or something. Because I totally would.” She reaches for a notepad.

“Alright Mom…” she looks at you for a moment and you can’t tell if she is shocked or amused or anything really because she stopped reacting completely and just stares at you. Right when you are about to start panicking about the situation she bursts into laughter.

“I mean I’M SORRY. How dare I offer pizza.” She continues laughing. You love this. This is easy and light and you realize once again just how much you enjoy her company. Gosh, you miss her already.

You remember her message as you make your way downstairs. “How was dinner, Kathryn? And the rest of your day? Tell me about it!”

For the next 10 minutes, as you prepare your own dinner, she tells you about her day and the plans for the next few weeks. The two of you laugh and make jokes and for a moment it seems like both of you have forgotten that you won’t see each other for a while. After she finishes talking, you fall into a comfortable silence and just look and smile at each other for a moment.

“I like you, you know?” She is the one to interrupt the silence. “Spending time with you makes me really happy and I’m sad you can’t come to Europe with me. I need you to know. I wish I could’ve taken you with me.”

Your heart melts and your hands start to shake as you realize Kathryn might indeed feel the same way. You put the knife, that’s in your hand from making dinner, aside. You’re unable to answer right away and fight for the right words, so she continues on with her short monologue.

“I just wanted to call tonight to check in and see how you are doing since I had to kick you out so abruptly last night and maybe we can do this from time to time, check in on each other? I would love that.”

Check in on each other? Why is she so vague all the time? For a moment you thought she’d confess her feelings for you but here you are again, uncertain of what she really thinks about you. You smile, though, and try to keep it calm because you don’t want her to get annoyed with you already.

You realize it’s getting close to 9pm, which means it should be about midnight at her place. Taking responsibility, you send her off to sleep and have a short dinner followed by some reading yourself.

Before Kathryn hangs up, she promises you to call again before leaving for Europe completely. She also wants to know if you want a souvenir from NYC (why is she so cute?) and tells you to call her anytime you need something or someone. With that, she shoots you the brightest smile and leaves you to it.

The ecstatic feeling you felt when you talked to her fades quickly as you come down from the call. Suddenly, your home feels all quiet and lonely and the silence is killing you. You walk back up to your room to sit on your bed and stare out of your window to enjoy the night sky. The tree right next to your room is slowly moving in the wind as its branches scratch the glasses surface.

You decide to call it a day as the week ahead is full of work and school and the weekend was eventful, so you change into comfy clothes and get ready for bed immediately. You fall onto your bed a few minutes later just as your phone lights up again.

"Good night, Sweetheart. It was great seeing your face. xxx K."

[cryptiql]

untitled god song

pairing: bakugou/m!reader (trans reader in mind you can see it if you squint but can also be read as cis)

words: 2k

warnings: themes of religious trauma, homophobia, mentions of blood, the author projecting their mommy issues

a/n: this is purely self indulgent, don't mind me 😩✋ (written in first person)

i wish i had known him before the pain started. perhaps it is a fools dream to think that his presence would have solved anything, and it is likely that he might blown me sky high at the time, if given the chance, but i often ponder his place in my narrative. he is nothing less than a king—nay, a god—and what else am i to be except his humble servant, adoring him in the only way i've been taught?

i would bruise my knees as i kneel for him, and should he turn me away, i shall be lost and without purpose. but he does not, and instead, he snorts out a laugh and pulls me to my feet, roughly squeezing my cheeks together with a shit-eating grin. he'll tell me a joke i've heard a thousand times, and yet i laugh with him anyways, the pads of my fingers idly tapping the pulse on his wrists.

"dumbass, at least take me out to dinner first."

i never thought i'd ache to hear such a demeaning nickname, but it's like birdsong to my ears, and i long for the myriad of butterflies it provokes.

i would heed his every word like a faithful disciple, and—if i knew he would not use this power for the wrong reasons—carry it out without question. he'll roll his eyes at the notion, far too prideful at the idea of being praised, and card hands through my hair, gripping softly. "right. and if i told you to go to bed before five in the morning, would you listen?"

my smiles are genuine, as they all are with him.

"no." i wish my mother had been more open-minded; more loving to those she claimed were goners. maybe then, i could still call her my mother, and not a snarled version of her first name steeped in vinegar. maybe she could have met him, and maybe she would have keeled over in the process, but that is how we put it "killing two birds with one stone".

he was a fallen angel if ever i saw one—emblazoned in smog and ravenous inferno, the pieces of child-like innocence turning to ash. something happened to him when he was a kid, just as all gifted children, and oh, what a fool i was to let my gaze dawdle on his gorgeous form. but i will never regret it—no, not ever—for there is no such feeling that can compare to his eyes on mine, burning with a mind-fogging intensity.

it was instantaneous, the moment my thoughts turned on me with malicious intent, her voice ringing out like a gunshot.

you'll never be him.

his hand slots with mine perfectly; deliciously warm and comforting in a way i haven't felt in years; and hauls me up, the flecks of dirt and rubble from the road clinging to my jeans.

"watch it, pretty boy. i won't always be here to save you, y'know."

my heart batters against my ribs like a caged bird, screeching and wailing to be set free, and i wonder in a haze if i've died. judgement day must have come early, i think, not realizing that it was spoken aloud until the blonde quirks a brow inquisitively. he does not speak on the matter, but continues on his merry way, leaving my helpless; hopelessly enamored; and praying that we will meet again.

no, i could never be him. but i am like him. he has a sureness in his walk and fervor in the way he talks that is only recognizable when i look in the mirror. and we do meet again. it is a shame, however, that i must burden him with the weight of my past. i remember too often the troubles of my youth, even when all has passed into fleeting memories that haunt me as ghosts do to an abandoned house. yet, i still live in this house, and the ghosts are here to keep me company.

i remember the church, first and foremost; nestled between the barren country road and the outback; a beacon of hope to all those who stood in its doors. the luster of freshly polished wood still sits in my mind, accompanied by the echoing remnants of dulcet tones and multicolored bands of light, glaring from the stained glass windows and dancing across the musty carpet floor. the doddering pews were just as uncomfortable as the poorly padded chairs squatting in the front row, but every sunday, they were filled to the brim with hungry worshippers. they sang praise as though they were starved, but i was too young to understand for what. i am older now, and i still don't understand. all i know is that despite its reputation, the church was a cursed place, and i should never set foot in it again lest i go mad. i remember the creaking stairs which lead downstairs, and the winding halls that reeked of torment where shadows loomed. the paint was corroding and foul, and my conscious always loitered too long on the merlot stain on the ceiling; its origin unknown, but nevertheless urging my stomach to twist with nausea.

i remember the feeling of tall grass grazing my ankles; itching horribly from the old moth-eaten socks i was forced to wear. it had become second nature—running and hiding from my problems, from the church, from her. i shall never know a greater animosity than the likes that my mother encouraged, although unintentionally, with her pressuring views and sickeningly sweet smile. it's fake, and i would know, because ours are the same.

we are too similar, and i am sickened by the fact. will i become the wretched woman she is? will i fail to be the father i've dreamt of being? it is an easy thing to fall prey to haunting questions, and it serves as brain rot for every moment of silence that leaves me clawing at my skin, trying to reap the memory of her touch. then i began to think—about nothing and everything—and it does not stop. i will be kind; unforgivingly so, and without biased judgement; like my mother never was, and i'll make her hate me for it. i will grow in leaps and bounds, not for her sake or for god's, but for mine, as it always should have been. i will drink and curse with reckless abandon and kiss who i damn well please, because in no life does she have have the power to make me something i'm not. why should i feel sorry when the tears she wept were forged by my own blood; by the childhood memories locked away to rot in my subconscious? yes, she has suffered too, but it is through clenched teeth and raw-bitten lips that i must confess this, for her suffering was born in me and grew from a seedling into a thorned flower, nourished by her hatred and mine. she'll tell me the lie of all mothers before her: that she knows best, and i'll never know joy that is not from my savior's gracious hands.

one day, when she lies not with words but in silence, under worm-filled earth and withering pastures, i'll tell her that she was right. i'll tell her, with his hand in mine, that my savior arrived with hellfire in his eyes and fury unrelenting. his tongue holds venom that would make the devil blush, but he tastes of a sinful sweetness that i've drowned in more times than i care to count.

mother you should know, my god is like no other. he has a broad chest and muscles, i attest, that are sculpted like fine marble and smooth to the test.

my god is a man who loves other men, unashamedly; in all that is true; and kisses me like real people do. and i know it sounds silly, and a bit cliché, and he'd surely make a mockery of me if ever he heard, but i love him. i love him as passionately as you she does lord above, and it is a crime in itself how much i crave him, so yes, i will burn for this—not because my mother said so or by the ancient script that foretells it, but because i promise it. i promise to let neither hell or high water deter me from that which gives me life, and i'll do so with a ring.

"you hear that mom?" i'll whisper in the dead of night, his body flushed against mine in the most delightful way; his fingers curled into my nightshirt, pulling me closer as listless mumbles fall from his parted lips. he is dead to the world amid his dream ridden stupor, but still leans into my touch when i smooth back the wild tufts of hair to kiss his forehead.

"i'm gonna marry him." part of me wishes she didn't live on the other side of the planet, just so i could rub it in her face, but i won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me again. i won't let her think she's won, because i know, and katsuki knows, that he and i are one in the same.

i do not know who i should thank for my stubbornness, be it my mother or my father, so i will thank the pain they both caused me, for it made me stronger than they ever could. no, i did not become a better person, because the scars have yet to heal from how deep they cut, and the smell of blood still lingers, and i am angrier than i once was, but i cherish my wounds. the stench of my agony has long since been subdued, and i have learned to swallow the sickness it evokes. and yes, this anger is unhealthy and i've chosen not to purge it from my mind like the weed it is, but how lucky am i to have found one whose malice rivals my own?

the tales of his glory have littered my notebooks in smudged ink. you would hate him, is scrawled messily on the last page, but i only feel giddy with excitement. you would hate him for his spite and his unapologetic behavior, and that is why he's perfect. he's everything you hate about this world, but everything i love.

so when she gets to heaven and asks the angels "why?", they'll tell her it was him who made the devil cry. him, who held me like she should have—could have, if she hadn't terrified me—and who chased the nightmarish visions of her from my weary mind with his callous palms and soft-spoken reassurances. i wish i had known him when we were young; when things were not so simple and i needed a hand to hold; but i suppose we'll have to settle for faded photographs and stories told through the bitter aroma of alcohol. that's more than enough, i muse to myself, legs hooked over his as i rest my head on his shoulder, keening softly at the gentle scrape of his nails on my scalp. his arms wind around my waist as he mutters something along the lines of "i love you", his lips curling into a smile, illuminated by the televisions glow.

so when they ask of my religion, i will think of only him. i will recall the way he looks at me, the sound of my name on his tongue, the feeling of his lips trailing between the valley of my breast; featherlight, cautious and unfitting for a man of his nature. i've written songs of praise, all dedicated to him, and if only he knew, oh how smug he would be. but i love him, i love him, i love him. and when he spins me around like a marionette, it is with overwhelming pride and joy that i tell him this, and with rose hued cheeks and bashful grumbles, he tells me the same. so mother, wherever you are, i hope you know i've found my god.

[moldisgoodforyou]

spring formal

gif from @toesure​

warnings: cursing and mentions of sex

wordcount: 2k

_

Of course, Rafe won out in the end.

The two had decided he would only pay for his half of the ticket for her sorority’s spring formal, upon his insistence. He wasn’t able to win the argument to pay for the whole thing, but with some sneaking around, he got her the dress she wanted too. Rafe caught Sophie looking at the same dress at least five times over one week, adding it to her cart and then exiting the tab, so he bought it when they were studying at the architecture studio while she got up once to grab more materials.

He presented the dress to her the day before the formal, when he dropped her off at her sorority house. “Hey, wait, I found you a little something.”

She paused, backpack in hand, and narrowed her eyes. “It’s never a little something with you.”

“Not true!” He protested. “I got you pizza last week when you were there late grading projects.”

Sophie laughed. “You got me a pizza, and you also got pizza for the four other TAs stuck there too. Who all love you now, by the way.”

“Good, as they should.” He grinned and reached into the backseat, pulling out a big cardboard envelope and handed it to her. She recognized the logo of the brand immediately and took a step back, shaking her head. “No. You didn’t.”

He shrugged, though he smiled. “Open it.”

She traced the tip of her finger over the brand’s logo stamped on the package carefully before ripping the cardboard open and sliding out the dress. It was a silk slip dress in a pretty light blue, the exact one she’d been eyeing. “How did you know?”

“You’ve been practically drooling over it online.” He teased. “I can’t wait to see it on you.”

“You really didn’t have to, I was gonna rewear one of my old dresses -”

“Nope, don’t start.” He cut her off abruptly, leaning over to meet her in a sweet kiss. “I wanted to do this for you, this is our last big thing before you - well, anyways.”

Her face fell a little like it did every time she was reminded that she was leaving him, and they both tried their hardest not to talk about it or think about it too often. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re gonna look killer, I’ll come pick you and the girls up at five tomorrow?” His car was the biggest of the group and he was the designated driver to get her, her roommates and their dates to the formal at the botanical gardens.

Sophie nodded with a grin. “Thank you, Rafe, I love it. It’s perfect.”

“You’re welcome. Night, Soph. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She gave him another quick kiss before leaving. The next day, Rafe came to pick her up right on time, walking to the door in his suit to pick her up. The whole house was practically buzzing with excitement, girls dressed to the nines with their dates in tow. He grilled Allie and Julia’s dates the whole drive there, much to the girls’ amusement, but eased up when Sophie reached over and pinched his leg as a warning sign.

He hardly let go of her all night, continually whispering sweet nothings in her ear about how damn good she looked. The more drinks they shared and the longer the night went on, the sweet nothings turned dirtier and dirtier, to the point that she couldn’t tell if the blush she wore was from his words or the alcohol. Once the bar was shut down and everyone started making their way out, Sophie grabbed his hand, leading him out to the connected hotel without hesitation. 

He grinned and offered his arm instead so she could keep a better grip on him, a little wobbly in her heels. “Someone’s eager.” 

“You’ve been instigating all night.” She scowled, flicking through her purse for the hotel keycard. Rafe withdrew it from his pocket, scanning them into the elevator. “I can’t help it, look at you. You’re beautiful.” 

She tightened her grip on his arm, leaning into him and growing quiet as the elevator ticked up on the floors. “Shh.” 

“Hey.” He nudged her gently after a moment. “What’s up? You’re quiet all of a sudden. Normally you’re running your mouth when you’re drunk.” He teased. 

“Not drunk.” She protested, reaching up on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

He just nodded, a little concerned but chalked it up to her being tired. It was around 1am, anyways, and he knew she had a long week. The two walked down the hall to their hotel room quietly, hand in hand, and he followed her in. 

Sophie turned to him once they were inside, slipping her arms around his waist and stepping close. “I love you.” 

“Love you too, angel. Are you okay?” He hugged her back securely, cupping one hand to the back of her head to keep her even closer. 

“Don’t wanna leave you,” she mumbled, keeping her face buried in his chest while she hugged him tight. 

“Hey.” Rafe frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her back. “Thought we agreed to not talk about that.” 

“There’s a chance I’m not sober so I can talk about whatever I want.” She argued, resting her head against his chest to hear his heartbeat, a constant measure of reassurement for her.

He laughed and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I could hardly tell.”

“You’re not allowed to make fun of me.” She murmured, not wanting to let him go. 

“Am too.” He scratched gentle circles on her lower back, enjoying her small hum of contentment. “You’ve been looking forward to this for forever, Soph, I don’t want you to be upset about it just because we’ll be apart for a little.” 

“It’s more than just a little.” She pulled back to look up at him, biting her lower lip. “I’m still excited, just. You’ve always been there, you know? Even when we weren’t dating.” 

He swept the pad of his thumb over her lip, trying to get her to relax. “You were so pissed when you found out I went here too, freshman year. Remember that? You came to a Delt party, into my home, and then had the nerve to ask what I was doing there.” 

“I remember. I went home and called Carter and he told me to stay away from your house and to move on from high school.” She laughed, shaking her head. “If only he knew.” 

“If only.” Rafe nodded in agreement, then walked over to his duffel bag for the night. “C’mere.” He pulled out a small, poorly-wrapped box, the tape haphazardly placed (which, in her eyes, was incredibly endearing).

Sophie followed him to the bed, taking a seat next to him and accepted the box. She fixed him with a pointed look, though her eyes betrayed her smile. “You need to stop getting me gifts.”

“I won’t stop doing that until the day I die. And even then I’ll send you gifts from the grave.” He teased, kissing her quickly. “C’mon, open it.”

She rolled her eyes but unwrapped it, setting the paper to the side. Once she recognized the Cartier logo on the box, she immediately pushed it back into his hands, eyes wide. “Rafe, I can’t -“

“Open it, Soph.” He grinned, having anticipated her reaction.

He wore at least two or three rings at all times and she had a habit of stealing them when they were together, or playing with his fingers and twisting the rings. When she wore rings on her own - if ever - they weren’t showy in the slightest, one a slim tarnished gold band that she had found in a thrift store and fell in love with the engraved initials on the inside. She liked to think it was a gift from someone to their lover, a quiet marker that they were theirs.

She sighed and flicked the box open, her throat feeling tight when she saw the ring - a Cartier love ring, no less - nestled in the box. “Rafe.”

“Sophie.” He mimicked.

“This had better be a fucking knockoff from Amazon.”

He laughed loud at that, shaking his head. “I’m offended you think I’d buy you a knockoff of anything.”

“I can’t accept this. You need to take it back, seriously.”

“Can’t take back something that’s been engraved.” He raised his eyebrows, prompting her to pull the ring out and see “my favorite” engraved on the inside of the ring - making her choke up even more, tearing up a little.

“Rafe, you didn’t.” She murmured, looking up at him with adoration. He nodded and took it from her, then took her hand. “I did. Don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.” He slid the ring on her finger with care, fitting it snugly around her second finger on the right hand.

She giggled, wiping away a tear. “This feels oddly ceremonial.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure your real ring would go on this finger instead.” He tapped her ring finger on her left hand. And then, because maybe a comment like that felt all too soon - even though he knew he would go out and marry her tomorrow if she asked - he added quickly, “But this’ll be flashier when you flip people off.”

She immediately blushed as his comment, ducking her head down. “That’s if you think you can put up with me for that long.”

“Hey.” He nudged her chin up with one finger, making her look at him. “I’ll be around as long as you’ll have me.”

Sophie was bright red now, though she was beaming. She shoved his shoulder playfully as she shook her head. “Stop, you’re embarrassing.”

“Nah, you love me.” He nudged her back and she swatted at his hands until he tried grabbing at her wrists. “Say it.”

“No.” She giggled, trying to grab at his arms. It ended up turning into a full on wrestling match, both of them trying to land on top. She finally won out after a moment, a little breathless as she laid on top of him, pinning both arms to the mattress. “I’m stronger than you.”

“In your dreams.” He grinned at her and leaned up to capture her lips with his. She kissed him back, dragging it out until she had to stop to breathe. “Rafe?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“Thank you, I mean it. I love you.”

He laughed and nudged his nose against hers. “I know.”

Her jaw dropped in mock offense. “Love you too would suffice.”

“Already did.”

“Well I want to hear it again. We don’t say it enough.” She insisted, releasing his arms so she could comb her fingers through his hair.

He laughed, pressing into her touch. “Is that so?”

“It is so.” She scowled and tugged a little on his hair. “And we’re gonna be on the phone a hell of a lot more once I leave, so I think we should start a habit of saying it more.”

Rafe nodded and swiftly flipped them over, sliding his hands up her body. “I can do that. I love you,” he kissed her once, “I love you,” a kiss along her jaw, “I love you,” a kiss along her neck.

She grinned, her scowl immediately gone. “Keep going.”

“Say it back.”

“Hm....no.”

“Do you want me to eat you out or not?” He asked point-blank, knowing it’d make her squirm.

She groaned, just as he expected, and blushed red. “Why are you always so crude?”

“Because you love it. And me.” He trailed his fingers down her stomach, tracing along the silk material of her dress. She tensed under his touch, her breath catching in her throat. “I do. I love you. Even if you drive me crazy.” 

“In more ways than one, yeah?” Rafe smirked, reaching up to tug the straps of her dress down her shoulders. She tugged at his hair to stop him in his tracks. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” He responded, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. 

“This is one of our last nights guaranteed alone before I have to go, so make it count.” 

He laughed and leaned closer, kissing her soundly. “Is that a threat?” 

She grinned, nipping at his lower lip. “It’s a demand.” 

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23