#oh how i wish i had motivation to write fic again

[grimm-writings]

hihi >_< could i request chilchuck x reader, maybe with reader flirting with him constantly, and then getting flustered when he actually decides to flirt back?

“what a flirt!”

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, suggestive comments, grimm trying so hard not to make the flirting sound cring, mention of chilchuck's wife

…wc! 698

…notes! my stupid doodle of chil with an iron is at 4203 notes at the time of writing my fic blog reputation has been squandered by the shitpost… but i finally got motivation do actually WRITE who cheered!!!! hope you enjoy and apologies for the wait!!

“Gosh, Chil, with those hands of yours you could easily please a partner!”

With his back turned away from you all you can hear from the picklock doing his job is a very deep inhale.  You can’t miss the way the tips of his ears glow red, even in the dim dungeon light.  You know there’s a ‘rule’ to not disturb the half-foot as he works but… goodness it’s just too tempting!  It’s not like there’s any harm in it!

When Chilchuck finishes his task he stands up and glares at you pointedly.  You return it with a bright smile.  “Thank you very much!” you chorus with the party oh, so politely.  The rest have partially given up on convincing you to not say or do anything while Chlichuck is busy.  He still gets the job done, at least…

Travels continue, and you find yourself trying to match a tall half-foot’s pace.  You have to slow down considerably but in your head all you can think about is how adorable Chilchuck might look if he tried to match your pace instead.

Right as you were about to drift off into fantasy, Chilchuck cleared his throat.  “You got somethin’ to say or is your head in the clouds again?”

You giggle.  “No, just thinking about how handsome you are.”  Once more, you relish in how flustered Chilchuck gets, attempting to speed walk ahead of you and start up a chat with Laios instead.

It’s so irritating.  Chilchuck can’t say or do anything without you making some kind of dumb comment!  He’s convinced even in a life or death situation you’d find some way to make him choke on his words and stumble.  You probably would let it happen if it means you can get the jump on him and humiliate him once again!

Before Chilchuck knows it he’s gritting his teeth together, his seething not going unnoticed.  Laios says quietly enough so you aren’t quite able to pick out what’s being said, “why not fight fire with fire?”

It’s an alright suggestion, sure, but that means… having to flirt back with you.  Chilchuck doesn’t know what constitutes flirting really.  His old flame used to say that he only ever honeyed her up when he’s a few drinks in.  Is that really what it will take to get you off his ass?

His question would be answered just a few hours later.  Combat isn’t Chilchuck’s forte, so once again he’s hiding behind some rock somewhere, slightly elevated off the floor.  That way he could avoid any collateral damage.

So he hoped at least.  A swing of a tail from the creature, slamming on the rock floor, proves him otherwise.  The ground collapses beneath Chilchuck and for a second he internally laments that he’s going to acquire another spot of brain damage.

But he doesn’t.  Instead, your arms easily catch underneath his knees and torso, holding him almost like a bride.  It’s you, and you look just so relieved, off guard.

Almost on instinct, Chilchuck lets the words slip.

“Looks like I fell for you.”

It’s so awful.  It’s so pathetic.  At least your pick–up lines were actually creative.  He almost wishes you’d let him break a bone or two.  Marcille’s healing might actually hurt less.

What he doesn’t expect at all is how your face deepens in colour and dusts across your face and cheeks, how your eyes widen and your jaw hangs open.  In your hold, Chilchuck feels your arms shaking.  Chilchuck only had to think for a second before realising that you seriously can’t take what you dish out.

The smug, brash grin that makes its way onto his face could infuriate anyone else, but you just feel your knees buckle.  “C’mon, be an angel and let me down, yeah?  Can’t have you dropping me, though I know my charm is irresistible.”

Funny how just a spot of encouragement can bring out this side of him.  Even as you do as you’re told with a pat on the head and, “why, thank you” being cooed at you, you know this isn’t the end of this.

Chilchuck will make sure you never forget how his words make you feel.

[racinggirl]

promise

Lando Norris Fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: Oh my godness I'm back y'all! It's been so long! It's the first request of hopefully many to come. So far my inbox is empty again, so don't hold back to send in some requests, one, or more. You can even send some anonymously! I hope you will like this story, and keep reading to find some little extra's I added, because I loved making AU's as well. Let me know your thoughts, tips, tops, anything really. It keeps me motivated to write more, so any form of feedback is very welcomed! Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy this fic 🧡

‘’Promise.’’ You linked your pinkie finger with the 5-year-old curly haired boy, giggling as the both of you were running around the playground, hiding from his mother.

‘’Come on, I’m nearly 25 already! I can easily go on vacation on my own!’’ You had always wanted to go on a road trip, preferably with a partner on your side, but that hadn’t been the case yet. So, you decided to go alone, because why not? You were old enough to look out for yourself, even though your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter traveling around Europe on her own.

‘’The world has changed, Y/N, it’s not safe to go on your own.’’

‘’But-…’’

‘’No, you’re not going on your own, end of story.’’

You groaned at your parents’ reaction and went to your room, frustrated, upset, but somehow you got their point. They weren’t wrong, the world had changed, and wasn’t that innocent anymore. Wherever you were watching the news, reports about murder, drunken drivers, kidnappers, it was all out there.

‘There’re more crazy people out in the world than there are behind bars’ was something your father would say, and he wasn’t wrong.

However, you wished you would have been able to do what that curly haired boy did. Sometimes you were jealous of him, jealous of how he travelled all around the world, going from one country to another, flying from Finland to Australia to Bali and back to his new home, Monaco.

Him and you met when you were karting in Bristol, the both of you loving the sport more than ever. However, karting wasn’t a girl’s sport, at least not to the world at that age. That’s why you moved on from it, where he pursued his dream career, you were only there to cheer from the side lines.

You hated learning, studying, it’s something you never were good at, or at least, not in school. Whenever you saw the data on the karting track, you’d spent hours trying to understand every piece of data that was coming through.

You begged your parents to let you go to engineering school, university. They didn’t want you to, it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, but after you refused to do anything else, they eventually agreed on letting you go to engineering school.

4 years later, and you had your engineering degree. You couldn’t be happier, because right now it meant you might do something you’d actually enjoy. Even if it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, you loved it.

‘’Hey’’ you smiled as you brought the phone close to your ear, lying in bed as you checked the time.

‘’Hey, did you see?’’

‘’Oh yeah, I did.’’ You laughed, looking up at the ceiling. ‘’You were flying! Pole position baby!’’ You giggled, smiling even harder when you heard him on the other side, repeating the final three words of your sentence.

‘’You still have to come for a race someday, you know?’’ His deep voice was ringing through your ears, and it immediately made your chest feel warm, it always did, he always did.

‘’Mhm.. I know, and I will, when my parents finally let me.’’ You sighed, playing with the ropes of your hoodie.

‘’You’re almost 25, when will they ever let you do your own things?’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ you sighed heavily, ‘’when I’m 40?’’

The sound of his laugh made you sit up straight, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink as you heard his laughter.

‘’Nah, I’ll have you kidnapped by then.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle next. ‘’They’ll destroy you when you do that.’’

‘’Good thing I have my bodyguards, then.’’ And that made your heart feel a thousand times warmer. He was never one to brag about his success, never. He always was very modest, very gentle, and never liked it whenever people talked about the amount of money he had, or how famous he was. That’s why you clicked so good. You knew each other from when you were 3 years old, and he knew you liked him as a friend, and not because he was a driver.

‘’I asked them if I could go on a road trip, alone.’’ You quietly said, hearing how he fumbled around on the other side of the line. A soft ‘hold on, I’m busy’ made you smile, knowing he told whoever was there to wait, because he was talking to you.

‘’And let me guess, they wouldn’t let you go alone because the world is dangerous.’’

‘’Yep, exactly.’’ You sighed but sat up straight when you heard him gasp.

‘’Lando, what did you do?’’

‘’Nothing.’’

‘’What are you thinking?’’

Silence…

‘’Lando?’’

‘’Come with me.’’ You could hear his grin through the phone, and he could hear your brains working overtime because he immediately started to explain himself. ‘’You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me, my team, my crew.’’ He said. ‘’You can travel the world with me, I might even be able to work around some things here to have you here for some sort of internship, so you won’t have any expenses, and you’ll be able to come to the races with me. Your parents know me, I’m not a stranger.’’

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to give in because honestly, it was a great idea.

‘’But, and these aren’t my worlds, but you’re famous, Lando, and you-…’’

‘’I’m still the same Lando from 20 years ago.’’

‘’I know, I know that, but my parents don’t, you know how they are…’’

You hated the fact you just basically told him you couldn’t go with him because he was famous, and you hated that word as much as he did. Your parents were always so fond of him, they loved him, but they also always made sure to tell you that he had a lot of money, was very well known around the world and that most famous people weren’t the same people they were before they had the money. They’d say that the fame got to their heads, but it wasn’t the same with Lando. He had always been that giggly, funny, sweet, and caring boy, but simply because he wasn’t around during Christmas dinners, or the traditional ‘start of spring’ picnic, they assumed he felt too good for those kinds of things. You explained to them that he was just busy, that because of his job, the start of spring was in the middle of the start of the season, and that he simply couldn’t make it. But they were your parents, stubborn as always.

‘’Y/N?’’

‘’Hmm, sorry, what?’’ You said, hearing him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

‘’Let me talk to them, okay? Let me try to convince them, because honestly, you wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from that decision.’’ He whispered, causing your cheeks to heat up again.

‘’Okay.’’

‘’Lando?’’ Your parents were surprised to see him at your front step. He promised you he’d come to talk to your parents, and he always keeps his promises.

‘’Y/F/N, Y/M/N, it’s been a while, it’s good to see you again.’’ He was always very polite. Calling your parents by their first name was something you always did; you did the same with Adam and Cisca.

It was a good conversation, you occasionally tried to mix yourself into it. A reassuring smile from the curly haired boy made you confident enough to speak up to your parents, and this time, with success, because only a few weeks after your conversation you were packing your clothes.

One year. For one year you’d join Lando with his journey around the world. You had no idea how he did it, and especially this fast, but he had managed to give you an internship position at McLaren, meaning you could come along to the races, the dream scenario for every Lando-girl out there.

‘’You’re the best, you know?’’ You laughed, placing your phone on the bed as you zipped up your suitcases. Instead of living here in London with your parents for a year, you and him both decided it would be the best if you would live in his apartment near Woking. It was still close to home, and to the factory.

He was the best one could imagine, and you knew he was, because he was always there, and he always kept his promises.

You put your phone away and collected the things you had to before ordering a taxi to head straight to the airport. You had been living in his apartment for almost 2 weeks now, and things were good, they were great. He occasionally came to Woking for work, but also to spend time with you. You were best friends ever since, and nothing could ever change that.

The moment you arrived on the airport you felt it again. Those feelings you have been trying to ignore the moment they appeared again, the moment your brain wandered off and thought of him. He always made you feel that way, but you ignored it, always. It might sound cliché, and you hated thinking about it because in every romance book it got romanticized. Having feelings for your best friend never worked out great, except in those books.

But reality is, you’re not living in a book, you’re living in the real world, and it was dangerous. Feelings weren’t mutual all the time, and you didn’t want to find out if it was the case this time because you didn’t want to get your heart broken, so being friends made you be close, feel good without the heartbreak ending it.

It went quick, you got in the jet and 1 hour and a few minutes later you were already back on the ground. He was right, it was faster. Of course he was right, he always was, and that made you fall for him even more, how silly it may sound.

He had texted you, saying he was waiting in his car because of the fans wandering at the airport. Someone spotted his car on the way here, and the FBI agents they are, they immediately put one and one together. He was picking up someone, or his girlfriend, something most fans would say.

‘’Hey.’’ You smiled as you embraced him in a tight hug, he smelled good, he always did. A mix of Dior Sauvage and his own scent made you inhale his scent deeply. It felt like home. You explained him that mixing 3 very expensive perfumes wasn’t making him smell 3 times better, he used to mix most of his perfumes until you made that comment. He asked which one you liked the most, and ever since you mentioned Sauvage all he wore was that. But you never noticed the reason was because you mentioned it, you always thought he simply liked that fragrance the most.

‘’Hey, how was the flight?’’ He opened your car door after helping you put the suitcase in his trunk, the real gentleman he was, and hopped in the driver’s seat.

‘’Amazing, the most relaxing flight I’ve ever had.’’ You sighed, putting on your seatbelt before looking over at him, how he started the car and drove out of the parking garage.

You talked more, about the flight, about how things were at the apartment, his apartment here in Monaco, you even talked about your plans these next upcoming days.

‘’We’ll go to London tomorrow.’’ He whispered. The both of you were laying on his couch in his apartment here in Monaco. Instead of watching TV, you had moved the couch so you both could see the harbour, and the sun setting in the ocean.

The couple of weeks you had been here were the best you ever experienced. You did many things, from shopping to karting in Italy, a day at the beach in France, simracing and even streaming. You made chat very clear you were best friends and nothing more, but when people in chat started to ask about his feelings, and about yours, he told you, quietly, to not answer and ignore them, whatever that might have meant.

‘’Really?’’ Your smile grew wider when he mentioned that. It would be your birthday in 2 days, and you always spent your birthday at home, with your family and friends. Last year he couldn’t make it, as the season started the day your birthday was, but this year he made his way around it. Your birthday was on Tuesday, so Wednesday you’d both fly with his jet to Bahrein for the first race of the year.

‘’Mhm, I wouldn’t want to break your birthday tradition.’’ He smiled, his lips placing a tender kiss on your temple. You were lying when you said your feelings towards him hadn’t grown these couple of weeks with him in Monaco. Everything he did gave you tinglings in your stomach and you couldn’t help ignoring them anymore. You surrendered to the fact you had a crush on him, you liked your best friend, and it was the best feeling ever.

‘’Happy Birthday!’’ Your parents were waiting in the living room when you entered the house. They decorated the entire room with balloons, garlands, and pictures from your first till your 24th birthday.

‘’Smile!’’ They held the camera out in front of you, and you immediately felt an arm wrapped around your shoulder. This caused your smile to grow even wider.

‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple as his scent immediately went through your nose.

‘’Thank you…’’ You whispered, looking into his bright eyes and immediately looking down after, trying to hide the fact you were blushing because of his actions.

Later that evening, after you spent time with your family and friends, you and Lando went back to his apartment. You got many gifts, and you couldn’t be happier about this day.

‘’How was your day?’’ You felt the vibrations of his deep voice going through your entire body, leaning against him as you were seated on the couch of his apartment.

‘’Amazing.’’ You smiled. ‘’Couldn’t be better.’’

‘’Oh, but I think it can.’’ He reached for something in his bag, and once he got the box, he handed it to you. ‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered again, watching how you opened the box slowly.

You pulled the black coloured leash that was hanging from the side of the box and gently placed it on the table in front of you. You lifted the lid and grabbed the small bag inside of the box.

‘’Lando.’’ You gasped, touching the velvet bag and opening it slowly. Tears were burning in your eyes at this point, because you realised he made all this effort to get the perfect gift for you. And he succeeded because it was more than perfect.

‘’This is way too crazy.’’ You whispered, feeling how he moved your hair to the side, helping you clipping the silver Swarovski necklace around your neck.

‘’Look inside.’’ He said, tucking some hair away from your face with his fingers, causing your nervousness to grow even more.

You opened the necklace and smiled when you saw the picture inside. It immediately gave you flashbacks, because even though you were only 4 and 5 years old, it was the brightest memory you had from the two of you.

FLASHBACK

‘’Dating is stupid! Kissing is stupid!’’ You laughed when you were seated on the swing, holding tightly when Lando pushed you carefully.

‘’I know! My mommy and daddy kiss when daddy comes home from work and it’s so weird!’’ He laughed, making sure you wouldn’t fall from the swing.

‘’Lando! Y/N! Come on, it’s time to go home!’’ You heard Cisca calling for the both of you, and you jumped off the swing immediately.

‘’Come on, run!’’ He held your hand and while the both of you laughed, you ran to the playground, hiding from Lando’s mom. ‘’Shhh..’’

You stayed there for almost 5 minutes, which seemed like an eternity when you’re just 4 years old. ‘’I have an idea.’’ The curly haired boy smiled and held your hand tightly.

‘’Okay, tell me!’’ You giggled.

‘’When we’re both 25 and we’re still single, I’ll ask you to marry me.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle and laugh, him doing the same. ‘’Okay!’’

‘’Lando! Y/N, come on we have to go, it’s getting dark!’’ You ran away again, running around the playground as you linked your pinkie finger with him. ‘’Promise’’.

END OF FLASHBACK

After he clipped the necklace around your neck, he took a hold of your hand and grabbed the second box in his bag. He kneeled in front of you, a smile on his lips as he opened the box with one hand.

‘’Marry me.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not now, don’t worry. But one day. You know I am a man of my word, and I still remember that day so well.’’ He smiled, looking at your necklace and then back into your eyes. He always maintained eye contact with you, and it made you feel safe and secure, because you know you can trust those eyes.

‘’I’ve been counting the days till your birthday, knowing that the day you turned 25, I was able to ask this question. I’m lying when I say I was hoping you wouldn’t find someone to be by your side, because, and maybe I’m being selfish, but I want to be that man. It’s too fast to immediately ask you to marry me, because I can’t force you to say yes, but God… Y/N. See this as a promise ring. See this as a promise ring that we’ll be together, that I’ll be the man in your life that makes you the happiest you’ll ever be.’’

Tears were streaming down your face as you listened to every word he said. Every word chosen so carefully yet so chaotically, because this is the moment you knew you weren’t the only one feeling this intense love for him. He felt it for you, too.

You answered him by cupping his cheeks with your hands and doing the one thing you have been dreaming of doing for almost 22 years. You kissed him, his lips moving on yours almost instantly caused you to smile against his lips, him following your movements. This kiss was something else, something that made all the butterflies in your stomach explode with fireworks, like they were all holding a fairy light and lighting them all at the same time.

‘’I love you, Lando, I always have, and I’m so glad I can finally say it out loud now.’’ You giggled, feeling his hand reaching for yours and the ring slipped around your finger so effortlessly.

‘’I love you too, and I promise I’ll get you a proper engagement ring.’’ He whispered before pressing his lips on yours again, firmly, full of love.

2 years later

[withleeknow]

in the dark.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, crying, mention of blood, mention of animal abuse, not very edited lol word count: 0.6k note: oh i've had the idea for a scene like this for a whiiiile now and i was hella motivated to finally write it after watching skzflix 😂 (twas supposed to be used for a jk fic but oh well, sorry jungoo)

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

"It was stupid of you."

"Okay."

"And reckless."

"Okay."

"And dangerous."

"Okay."

"And stupid. Did I already mention that? Because it was fucking stupid."

"Oka-"

"Fuck!" you snap. "Why do you keep saying that? Is it the only word in your vocabulary?"

Minho shrugs defeatedly, like none of this matters to him, but his guilty eyes tell you otherwise. He purses his lips for a second, before he tells you, "What else am I supposed to say?"

"Say you're sorry? Say you'll stop doing it? Say you won't put me through this again?"

He stays quiet, and to be honest, you expected him to. He's too stubborn for his own good and he's too good for his own sake. He's got the kindest heart you know, and you will always love him for it, but...

It's hard to make peace with it when he shows up at your doorstep every few weeks with bruises all over, like an abandoned dog asking you to take him in and put him back together.

It's hard to keep track of all the reasons he tells you to justify his borderline foolhardy actions. The last time it happened, it was because he ran into some psycho abusing the stray cats near his neighborhood. Tonight, it was because he saw someone get mugged on the street.

It's even harder to be okay with the fact that he's infinitely selfless and kind because you love your friend.

You love your friend.

You heave a sigh, going back to the task at hand because you know there's no convincing Minho otherwise. Sometimes, you wish he'd think of himself, that he'd put himself over others. Sometimes, you wish he'd think about you.

You asked him about it once, why he kept showing up to yours instead of going to a hospital. Instead of going home.

He only replied, simple and earnest, "I just want to be here with you."

You soak a cotton swab in rubbing alcohol before you press it gently against the cut on his cheek, wincing when he does. Then you move to the cut on the bridge of his nose, the one on his jawline, the one on the corner of his mouth...

You don't meet his eyes, but you feel his steady gaze on you the entire time you tend to his wounds. You're aware of how your hands are shaking, the way every breath you exhale is trembling, and that there are tears ready to overflow any second now.

The first one spills as you work on cleaning the blood off the corner of his mouth.

Then, suddenly, the cotton swab is no longer in your hand. Minho carelessly flings it elsewhere, and before you can scold him for interrupting you, his palms are on your face, delicate fingers cradling your jaw.

You blink. Just a split second, and his lips are on yours.

He's soft, and warm, and sweet, despite the bitterness that's been on your tongue the entire night. You love him. You do.

And he kisses you like he loves you too, tenderly and wholeheartedly.

You want to keep him with you forever, to never let him go, to not have to see him get hurt ever again. You don't think it's possible for you to endure it anymore, now that you know how it feels to have him like this.

When he pulls away, you're dazed. Rightfully so.

Minho doesn't stray from you for too long. He lets you catch your breath before he's leaning in once more.

Another kiss. Three seconds.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles against your lips, his tone so painfully sincere.

Another kiss. Four seconds.

"I'll stop doing it."

Then another one. Five seconds.

"I won't put you through this again."

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 03.11.2023]

[l5byrinth]

fortnight

“and i love you, it's ruining my life”

pairing: nikolas omilana x reader

summary: in which niko avoids you for a certain reason, and at some point you can’t take it any longer.

requested

a/n: hii everyone i’m back from the dead like i always am every few months!!! school has been draining, but one night i got this motivation and managed to write this, hope you like it <3 btw i know i should be finishing of the hunger games requests, but there are so little fics on here for the beta squad members and the motivation just got to me when watching a video.

also pleaseeeee start requesting more beta squad, not just niko because there aren’t many fics for these amazing men

NIKO never knew what it was like to be so infuriated by someone, it caused restless nights. To be so head over heels, that all your thoughts were consumed by only that person. That was until Niko met you. The way you had him wrapped around your finger, without you even noticing or trying, was something he never understood. But it was you, how could he not be?

The famous youtuber also didn’t know what it was like to love someone that wasn’t his. Someone not meant for him.

He had respect for your relationship, of course, he wasn’t one to mingle and make things worse. Especially since your boyfriend was one of the best ones you’ve had. However, the mere thought of you drove him absolutely insane and he wasn’t sure for how much longer he could bear it anymore.

You were happy, though, and he didn’t want to be the reason that would be ruined.

So he avoided you like the plague. Leaving every room you entered, switching the topic whenever you were mentioned, trying to keep his eyes from wandering off to where you were standing. It was killing him, but if it meant keeping you happy, he didn’t mind the torture one tiny bit.

Niko hadn’t told anyone about what he felt for you, he would take it to his grave, that’s for sure. Yet, he was more obvious than he thought he was, since he’s noticed the sympathetic looks his friends gave him whenever you were around. Numerous times. It didn’t matter, it’s not like you were ever going to find out and that’s all that really mattered.

After Niko had arrived back at his apartment, he was surprised to hear not a single sound being made. Knowing Aj, he would always either be gaming and yelling for the whole neighbourhood to hear or edit a video with the volume on to the max.

After checking a few rooms for where his roommate was, he got a call from Aj himself.

“Where are you, you rat?” Niko questioned, not even bothering to greet him. Aj let out a laugh on the other line, “Missing me now, are you? Giraffe.”

Niko rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile forming on his face, “Ha ha, hilarious.”

“Anyway, I’m at Chunkz’ right now.”

And after conversing for a few minutes, discussing everything and nothing, they ended the call. The tall guy let out a loud sigh, as he sat down on the sofa, turning on the tv to watch anything that came up first. However, just when he was about to push the button of the remote, the doorbell rang.

Niko was confused to say the least, but didn’t expect much of it. It was probably one of his friends needing something from him.

When Niko opened the door, however, he wished he didn’t. His heart dropped to his stomach, his breath hitching in his throat. That was the effect you had on him. Your hair was messed up quite a bit, your lips forming a pout as you looked at him. Oh, how he had to restrain all the power in him not to kiss that pout away.

A soft call of your name left his lips, as if he was terrified it was just a hallucination. “Niko,” Your voice was stern, yet there was some kind of sadness to it. And without saying another word, you entered the apartment as if you owned the place.

When you walked past him, your scent wafted into his nostrils and he took it in. He closed his eyes, not wanting to lose control and confess the second he turned around and looked at you again. Niko closed the door, taking his sweet time going to you. You were pacing back and forth in the living space of the apartment, your eyebrows furrowed and face filled with worry.

“What’s wrong?” Niko questioned, earning a rather unbelievable scoff from you. When you stopped pacing and moved closer to him, Niko took back a step, making you even more frustrated than you were before. “You’re asking me what’s wrong? I should ask you!” You couldn’t comprehend why the closest friend you had ever had, wasn’t present in your life anymore. The minute your feet took a step closer to him, he backed away once more, “Look! What’s this? Why are you avoiding me?”

You were absolutely fuming to put it lightly. What was he doing?

His gaze fell down to the floor, because if he would look at you right now, he knew he would ruin things even more. “I don’t get it, Niko…” Your voice was dripping with desperation, but you couldn’t care less at the minute, only interested in whatever was going between the two of you.

Another step closer, but this time he didn’t budge, his eyes stuck to the ground. But when you said his name so sweetly, who could blame him when he averted his gaze to meet yours. The question that left your lips, made the guilt sink inside of him, “What did I do wrong?”

However he didn’t cave in. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t, no matter how tempting the thought of you being his seemed right now.

“Niko, please. Talk to me!”

Silence, once again.

“Nik-“

“I can’t talk, please don’t make me.” His whisper was barely audible, but still loud enough for you to hear. “Why not, huh? Are you just going to ignore me like you have done for the past couple of-“

“I have to! I never wanted for this to happen.”

The tone in his voice took you by surprise, your eyes searching his for a more clear answer, “What are you talking about?”

“You think I wanted for all of this to happen? Of course not!” He started, and he regretted everything he said after, “I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help to feel at home with you, couldn’t help but feel as if you are the only one in this universe.”

His gaze was burning into yours, “I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.”

Something fluttered unwantedly in your chest, followed by your breath hitching in your throat. Niko’s in love with you?

“You… what?”

“I fell for you, hard and painfully so. I’m sorry, okay? It happened one way or another and now you’re the one consuming my thoughts and dreams. I care for you and love you so deeply, it hurts me to stay away from you. But I did what’s best and will continue doing so.” He rambled, never noticing how you were still hung up on the first sentence he uttered.

But when you met his gaze once more, and saw the spark in his eyes when he looked at you, you wondered how you could’ve been so blind. “Now, please, leave before I do something both of us will regret.” Niko warned firmly.

You were stood there absolutely speechless, but came back to earth quickly, when you realised your boyfriend was waiting for you outside.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Can you write something where y/n is insecure about having a bigger vagina. maybe its during sex or when she's drunk or really however you want to write it.

Drunk Insecurities /blurb/

AN: i've had this in my inbox for a while and found the motivation to finally write it. i hope you enjoy. i know i said my next fic was gonna be a smut but when i thought about how i'd write this, i didn't see smut appropriate for my vision. hope that's okay. remember our bodies come in all different shapes and sizes and they are all beautiful. and remember to leave you feedback : ) also the words are orange rather then yellow in my authors note because tumblr must have took the yellow color away. i can't find it. 😭

This story contains: talks of what vaginas look like, insecurities, being drunk, mentions of sex, fluff

{ husband!harry - softrry - any harry era - non famous harry }

word count- 1,022

As Harry tries to bathe you in the shower after a night at the bar with some friends, you have a drunk meltdown with the thought that he thinks negatively about how your vagina looks.

You were currently drunk in the shower. Your husband Harry was in there with you, holding you upright and helping you wash off the smell of booze that lingered on your skin. You'd went out to a bar with a couple of your other married friends and now it was two in the morning and Harry's trying to help you get ready for bed. Key word, trying.

One thing to know about a drunk Y/n was that you get very emotional. You're an emotional drunk. Some people get silly when they're drunk. Some people get sleepy when they're drunk. Some people get sick when they're too drunk. But you, you'll burst into tears at every little inconvenience or negative intrusive thought.

Like right now, as Harry tries to wash over your body while also holding you upright, you burst into tears for the tenth time in a span of an hour. "Baby, you've gotta calm down f'me. Don't want you to make yourself sick from all the cryin' you're doin'. Then we'd have to shower you again."

"But, but," you begin though heaving breaths as you sob, "do you really like my beef curtains?" In your drunken state, you remembered a conversation you had in the bars bathroom with your friends Melony and Paige. Something about how Melony is insecure about having an "outie" vagina but she nicknamed it as her beef curtains. Then Paige saying she wished she had that problem because she's insecure with her innie. Oh the things girls talk about in bar bathrooms......

You kept quiet in the conversation because you didn't exactly want to share what your pussy looked like to your friends. But on the inside, you were just as insecure as Melony was. You know vaginas come in all shapes and sizes but what if your shape and size was unappealing to Harry. What if behind your back, he discussed how his wife had large beef curtains to his friends and they laughed. Your thoughts are totally irrational but your drunk brain can't help it.

Flabbergasted, Harry yells out, "WHAT!" Not in a mean way but in a shocked way. He's no idot. He knows what that can be slang for but he's not once looked at your vagina and thought, oh she has beef curtains. That sounds totally too offensive for Harry to ever think of saying to a women.

"Harry," you mutter annoyed, "my pussy!! Do you really like the way my pussy looks or have you been lying to me?" Now Harry knows your drunk, drunk. Sober you would never question his love for your pussy. Not with the way he treats it.

"My love, why are you askin me that right now? You know I love the way it looks, baby. I love the way all of you looks. All of your imperfections look." Harry responds as he takes the shower head in his right hand to rinse the suds off your body.

Crying again, you say, "Are you saying my pussy is imperfect?" Here we go again, Harry thinks. In your drunken state, you misunderstood his words and turned them into something he hadn't even meant.

Harry turns the water off and leads you out of the shower where he grabs a towel for each of you. He helps you sit on the closed toilet seat while he wraps his towel around his waist. Then begins to help dry you off. And as he dries you off, all Harry can think about is, are you really insecure about how your vagina looks? Or are you just super drunk.

Because in all the years of being with you, never once has he looked at your pussy and thought anything negative. To him it looks normal. Though he isn't blind with the fact pussies come in all shapes and forms, just like dicks do, but to him, your pussy is his normal. It's the only one he's had for nearly a decade and he almost forgot any other pussy even existed.

Coming out of his thoughts, Harry stands up from where he was kneeled down drying your legs, and coos gently, "Come on baby, lets go to the bedroom and get our clothes on so we can get in bed."

Now it's like you've completely forgot about your meltdown in the shower because you whine, "Can we sleep naked, pleaseee?" You don't always sleep naked. Most of the time you sleep in an oversized t-shirt and panties and Harry sleeps in just his briefs. But when you do sleep naked, it's usually after you've had sex and either you're too lazy to put clothes on or you want to feel close to one another after having sex.

So naturally, Harry's response is, "Fine, but no funny business. Your drunk, Y/n."

With no tears in sight anymore, you grin up at your tall husband and reply, "Hey, I know that. But, what about in the morning, hm?"

"If you're not puking in the toilet from how bad your hangover will be, I'll consider it, okay. But for now, lets go to sleep. I'm knackered." Harry helps you stand on wobbly legs from the toilet seat and helps you walk to the bedroom. Once in there, he peels back the duvet and sheets and carefully helps you crawl in the bed to get comfy.

Harry walks around to his side of the bed and slips his towel off before joining you in bed too. He turns the lamp off and slides over to your body so he can cuddle you. He's a big cuddler. Then before you both drift off to sleep, he whispers, "Wake me up if you need anythin', my love. Like if you feel sick or somethin'. I love you. Sleep well." Though he hopes the two glasses of water he made you drink before you got into the shower will help lesson the chances of you getting sick.

"Love you too, H." you manage to say before you're knocked out cold, loving the way his bare skin feels pressed against yours along with the alcohol in your system.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe14  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[billlydear]

BASIC BIOLOGY - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART THREE | FINAL PART) | PART ONE | PART TWO

word count: 9492 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: you're paired with billy for a biology project. you only visit his house once, but it's enough for you to understand why he doesn't want you to come over again. when he starts showing up more and more in your life, you realize that it's basic biology: you were made for him, and he was made for you.

Contents: mentions of injuries (healed/healing), trauma, discussions of billy's past, angst with a fluffy ending, cows !

A/N: oh my gosh ! the end ! it feels like i've been working on this forever and thinking about it even longer, and as a new-ish writer on the billy scene, i just want to thank you all for how sweet you've been, in response to this fic and many others. your support is so important to me, and i'm so glad that many of you enjoyed this fic. i hope that you like the ending, too, please tell me what you think!

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

You wake up beside Billy Hargrove differently than you’d fallen asleep beside him. Where his face had been previously tucked snug to your neck, his breath fanning out over your collarbones, his cheek is smushed to your chest now. His arm is slung over your stomach, one of his legs thrown over your own as his torso lays slumped up against yours. His cheek chubs up where it’s resting on your breast, and- god, his eyelashes are beautiful. The eyes behind them are just as gorgeous, but for now you’re glad they’re shut. He looks so relaxed, so peaceful, and you’d stay still for an eternity beneath him if it meant he’d be able to stay in that drowsy state of serenity. 

His curls are mussed with sleep, bent out of shape and frizzy where they’d typically be slicked. There’s still bruises littered over his face but they’ve already begun healing, shifting in color to be lighter and less jarring. 

Your fingers come up without you noticing to brush over one of his curls. It’s soft to the touch, and you give it an experimental squeeze, watching as it bounces back. You notice that it’s tangled slightly with another strand, and brush your pinky between them to separate the tangle.

It must tug lightly on Billy’s scalp, because he heaves an unconscious sigh. You wait for him to frown, to wake and snap at you for touching his precious hair, but he never does. Instead he settles again, eyes still firmly shut.

You can’t help it; you reach for his scalp. Your nails scrape gently, ever-so-slightly over his skin, brushing over hundreds of individual strands of hair rooted there and curled together. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he moves. He hums, deep, soft, and low in his throat, the sound vibrating in his chest that’s pressed to your side. It sends a shiver up your spine, but it’s quickly quelled with the warmth that comes from his face as he presses it even further into your chest. Now his cheek is practically invisible, buried in your breast and angling his nose to one side. He tightens his arm around your waist, hoisting himself up and over you even further than he’d been before. He reminds you of a cat, purring and leaning into soft touches.

He seems to like it, so you don’t stop. You rove your fingers through every inch of his scalp, scratching and stroking and smoothing through his curls until they’re a mass of individual strands instead of grouped twists. It’s ridiculously soft, and you wonder how you’ve been able to refrain from touching his hair before now.

There’s nothing you’d rather do than stay here for eternity. Holding him, brushing through his hair, loving him. But your bladder has other wishes. 

Wrestling yourself out from under him is difficult, but he accepts a pillow in exchange for your torso. He burrows his face into it just the same, and you can’t help but brush over his curls one last time as you stand over him, tucking the blankets up and around his shoulders.

When he’s securely tucked into your covers and snoozing away, you pad out of your bedroom, thankful that your parents work early shifts.

You seem to have woken up at a perfect time to make a breakfast larger than you normally do. It takes double the time to prepare a meal for the two of you, and you’re thankful that you think to group the eggs together in a pan to cut that extra time down. You’re setting plates at the table, stuffed with eggs, toast, and fresh fruit when Billy emerges from the hallway, staring cautiously at you where he stands.

His hair is haphazardly smoothed, but there’s no fixing the frizz that your fingers had worked out of it. Your clothes look good on him, even if the sweatpants are stretched over his upper calves instead of at his ankles from how he’d shifted in his sleep. Your shirt is riding up at his stomach and you politely avoid looking at his toned torso, even if you really want to.

“Breakfast,” You hum, pointing your spatula at the table, “Orange juice or milk?”

“Uh-” He flounders, blinking rapidly, “Water, please. Or- I can get it.”

He makes to step towards the kitchen but you whirl your spatula around to face him, intent on pampering the boy, “No, just go sit down. I can do it.”

He looks properly chided, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as he ducks to hide it from you.

You set an ice cold glass of water at his place and notice that he’s waited to begin eating until you sat down. You give him the go-ahead, digging into a chunk of egg with your fork.

“Sleep good?” You glance up at him, a questioning glance shot through your lashes. He nods, silent and careful, and you realize that he seems to have closed himself off since last night, and you think that maybe leaving the bed before he woke wasn’t the best idea, even if it was just to make breakfast. You try remedying it by knocking your foot against his under the table, and he nearly chokes on his water. You leave your foot pressed flush to his own, a constant reminder of your touch on his skin.

“Does your stomach still hurt?” You try again, gulping down OJ. 

“A bit,” His morning voice is raspy and you know you’re going to fawn over it later, even if you’re trying hard not to take advantage of his vulnerability.

“It’s mostly a cut up here,” He reaches a hand under his (your) shirt, rubbing at a patch below his left pec. You can see his fingers move under the shirt, and you remember the wound that’s there from last night.

“That probably means your ribs aren’t broken,” You conclude, relief washing over you at the fact that his bruises are just that.

“Nah, not broken,” He shakes his head, stuffing fruit into his mouth and ignoring the way juice drips down his chin, “I know what a broken rib feels like.”

You still, looking up suspiciously at him with your head ducked to your plate. His shoulders slump, “Just some kid from school. He had rings on, and he hit hard.”

“Oh,” You supply lamely, “I’m glad they healed.”

You eat in silence for a few bites, but he doesn’t shy away from your touch beneath the table, and you’re thankful for that. He even shifts his foot to press more against yours, his sock slightly itchy against your skin. Right after he leans into your touch, he speaks.

“My dad doesn’t usually… do this. This was bad, he tries not to leave marks. I think-” He hesitates, and you nudge his foot with your own again, encouraging him, “I think he’d be even more angry if I missed school than whatever he was mad about in the first place. So he has to keep things inconspicuous. And if anyone sees anything I just have to make excuses.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, not out of pity, but sympathy, “I… I really don’t know how you do it. You’re strong, Billy, y’know that?”

He scoffs into his honeydew.

“I mean it,” You press on, “You just… take it. You let him do that to you because if you fight back other people might get hurt, and that takes strength. Even if it feels weak to get beat on, just know you’re saving your stepsister and her mom, and… I’m proud of you.”

He stills for a moment, jaw stiffening in the middle of a chewing motion. He swallows dry, but whatever it is goes down fine, and he clears his throat without meeting your eye.

“He used to hit my mom,” Billy admits, voice now hoarse from emotion rather than sleep. He scrunches his eyes shut momentarily, “I.. I couldn’t stop him. I was too young. And she left. So I guess I just… got bigger. Just in case.”

You recall seeing a set of weights in his living room. You had presumed they were his, but hadn’t bothered to ask among discussions of mitosis. Now, though, you realize he’s bulked himself up to combat his dad’s abuse, even if he uses it to protect others rather than himself.

It spreads a thin layer of mist over your eyes, the thought of preteen Billy experimenting with handheld five-pounders in hopes of blocking a punch. What hits you even harder is his current image, a toned teen who still doesn’t have the heart to hit back.

You can’t figure out how to respond. If you say you’re proud of him again, he might shut down. If you sound like you’re pitying him, he’ll be angry. So instead you reach over the table, your fork clattering to the wood as you take his free hand.

He’s startled by the sudden movement paired with the noise, but he makes up for his momentary flinch by ghosting his thumb softly over the back of your hand. His fingers don’t curl against yours, so it’s not a mutual gesture, you’re just holding his hand. Slowly, surely, his fingers move inch by inch, slipping between your own and settling against your skin.

You wonder if it’s the first time anyone’s ever held his hand.

“Thanks,” He breathes, his breath a huff of cantaloupe scent. He sniffles, hard, aggressively, and you know he doesn’t want you to acknowledge the tear that streaks fast down his cheek. 

You let him wipe it away without saying anything, even though you want to tell him it’s okay. You hope that the way you squeeze his hand tells him that, though, because it’s true. It’s okay for him to cry, and you’re glad that, even if he tries hiding it around you, he feels safe enough to let the tears fall in the first place.

The rest of your breakfast is filled with mindless chatter, a few gossip strands weaving their way through an otherwise pleasant conversation. He learns that Amanda Weaver has been telling everyone he gave her a promise ring, but you’d seen her fish the plain silver band off of her keychain. 

“I don’t even know her,” He snorts, “And promise rings are dumb.”

Your nose wrinkles, “I don’t think so. They’re cute.”

“They’re pointless,” He insists, shoveling egg into his mouth, “Having a ring to chuck in the garbage is gonna hurt a whole lot more when they leave.���

“If.” You murmur.

“Hm?” He glances up at you, mouth full.

“If they leave.” You correct him quietly, “Some people stay.”

He’s frozen. Baby blues unblinking, he stares at you like a deer in headlights. You hold his gaze with your own steady one, waiting until his brain wraps around what you’re really trying to tell him: I’ll stay.

He’s quiet, for a long time. He keeps his eyes on his eggs, roving over every crease and hill in their structure. Then he mumbles so soft you can barely hear it, “Right.”

There’s a thousand things you want to say. A thousand promises you want to make, a thousand reassuring words you want to mumble against his skin so that they’re absorbed. But the not-so-nice blare of your kitchen timer kindly reminds you it’s time to get to school, and you settle for none at all.

“Shit,” You mumble, shoveling your last bite of melon into your mouth and standing, “I’ll get my-!” 

You glance back at him when you feel a tug, and he’s sitting in place, hand still entwined with yours. He’s cautious, frozen, and you melt into a smile, squeezing his hand.

“My bag.” You clarify, “Are we taking the bus, or walking to your place?”

“Let’s walk,” He decides, his hand never letting up in its grip on yours. It’s bold, it’s forward, it’s healing.

“Okay,” You grin, keeping your fingers tightly curled around Billy’s and tugging him up through the shared embrace, “Let’s go! I’ve gotta be on time today, we’re taking a quiz in first period.”

“We don’t have to go in, we can just get my car.” He lets you drag him to the living room, “The only thing I keep in my bag are cigarettes, anyways. I can bum a few.”

“Billy,” You scold, “Where do your papers go?”

“In the trash.”

“Nice,” You scoff, wincing as you step outside and the harsh sunlight hits your eyes. You fumble with your house keys, slipping them into the lock to close up the house, “I’m gonna buy you a binder. And you’re gonna put your school stuff in it, nice and neat, and you’re gonna carry a pencil, and you’re gonna bring water, and you’re gonna-”

“And you’re gonna fall,” He yanks on your hand, pulling you tight to his side as he points at a rock you’d been headed for, “Pay attention, clumsy.”

“Oh.” You flounder, his toned arm against your cheek as you struggle to right yourself, “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” He flashes you a grin you’ve seen before, primarily aimed at his basketball teammates or a girl he’s chatting up. It’s confident, shit-eating, and it sends a wave of butterflies through your stomach.

The walk to his house isn’t terribly long. It’s a trek, for sure, but you’re there in under a half-hour, laughing all the while. Billy’s hand is still firmly gripping yours, and he’s funny, you remember, when he’s not crying.

“Dad’s not home,” He clocks the car missing from the driveway, “I can get mine and go.”

“Get your bag,” You order, face stern and brows scrunched, “And don’t throw away any of your school papers today!”

“No promises, babe,” He teases, his own key in his pocket as he jams it into the door. You’re thankful that he turns away to step inside so that he doesn’t see your eyes widen at the nickname, but you hope your hand doesn’t begin to sweat, or he’ll notice.

“Maxine?” He calls, shouting through the house. There’s no reply, and her sneakers aren’t by the front door, so you presume she’s not home.

“Probably skated,” Billy shrugs, “My bag’s in my room.”

He doesn’t have to drag you there, you know the way. You send a withering glare towards the room at the end of the hall, where you know Billy’s dad sleeps, as if it’ll cast a curse over the doorway and land him seven years of bad luck. You see the fireplace poker on your way, set neatly back in its place. There’s blood on it.

He changes quick, and you occupy yourself with the collection of tapes by his closet. He’d yanked your shirt right off of his head like you weren’t standing there, but when you’d turned with burning cheeks to give him some privacy, he hadn’t said anything.

Billy’s persistence on holding your hand is sweet, but surprising. The last thing you’d have expected from him was a clingy puppy-boy, but his head turns to track you whenever your hand nearly slips out of his own, and he wrestles with his bag one-handed instead of dropping the embrace. You’re just glad he’s finally holding onto something good in his life instead of pushing it away.

You think it’s a massive inconvenience that he can’t drive while holding your hand. He tries, at first, resting them on the center console, but when he changes lanes and almost overshoots it, you pry your hand out of his own.

“Two hands,” You laugh bashfully, “It’s okay, we- uh, later… later we can…”

“Later,” He turns his head to grin at you, a brilliant display as he slaps his now-free hand onto the wheel,  “Later’s good.”

Unfortunately, later gets pushed back a lot. When Billy pulls into the parking lot, the bell rings. He knows you’re going to be late for your quiz, so he doesn’t try to keep you, smiling softly, “Just go. See you in bio.”

Then between classes, you catch a glimpse of him in the hall. Your stomach starts acting up again, butterflies coming in droves, mind reeling with the thought of him grabbing your hand in public. He almost does, eyes widening as he catches sight of you, broad shoulders muscling everyone out of the way. But before he can reach you, a similarly-toned man steps up beside him, a basketball jersey slung over his frame.

He talks, and talks, and talks and talks and talks, all waving arms and loud jeering. Billy tries holding your gaze over his shoulder, nodding mindlessly along to whatever the boy is saying, but the warning bell rings and you send him a soft, defeated smile.

‘Later,’ You mouth, and his eyes dim when he nods.

Your efforts are futile at lunch, too. He has the class period before with a few of his friends, loud and brash, not your style. It means that you occupy your normal seat, a corner of a bench that the group to your left isn’t using, and tug out a book to entertain yourself. You feel his gaze burning against the side of your head, but if you get caught staring at him, his friends will turn it into some wild story about how you’re infatuated with him, and you’re not the type of person that makes that observation a compliment, at least, not to Billy’s friends. You almost hope he stops looking at you, too, because if they catch him staring, you don’t know how they’ll torment you.

It almost kills him to wait until you’re seated together in biology to reach for your hand. You’d never seen him arrive to class earlier than today, he’s even there before you are. He doesn’t bother to hide his staring, icy eyes tracking you from the second you walk through the door to the second you sit beside him.

You’re thankful that you’re officially seated together now, and you’re thinking that maybe you don’t hate group projects as much as you thought you did.

“Hey,” He murmurs, sliding his hand across the back of yours under the desk.

“Hey,” You hum, flipping your hand over to meet his palm-to-palm.

Everything seems right with the world again.

There’s a certain security you get from Billy’s touch, even if he probably gets more from yours. Having someone to hold grounds you, and you hope it does the same for him. It’s strange, feeling such a strong connection to someone you’d only started talking to days before, but you suppose that’s what happens when you remove all of the formalities of friendship. Your first sleepover just happened to be in an effort to keep him alive, not to eat junk food and watch movies.

You try to pay attention to the teacher, you really do. But she’s nowhere near as interesting as the soft scratching of Billy’s pencil on your paper, and you can’t help but watch as he writes.

You need a ride home?

You reach for your own pencil, scrawling your answer and sliding the paper to him in response

I can take the bus. You should take Max, she skated this morning.

He nearly breaks his pencil writing: She’s got tutoring after school today, she skates home anyways.

Okay, You decide, and you see him smile out of the corner of his eye as you write the word, Thanks, Billy.

He squeezes your hand, and he doesn’t need to write ‘You’re welcome’ for you to know it’s what he’s saying.

Biology typically drones on. You try to stay on top of your schoolwork, of course, but that doesn’t mean you enjoy it. The class is suddenly a lot less dreary with Billy beside you, and it becomes a game of stifling giggles. He steps on the toe of your shoe beneath the table, you tug at one of his curls. He crowds your space with his shoulder and nudges you to the edge of your seat, you let go of his hand to pinch at his thigh. He has to stifle a groan at that one, and to do so he thumps his head forwards on his desk, using the cool plastic against his forehead to quell his rugged laughter.

The thunk of his head against the desk alerts your teacher, and you sit up straight, eyes on your paper that’s covered in doodles as you try not to laugh. She scoffs, seeing Billy slumped over the desk, and probably assumes he’s fallen asleep. When she turns away, you elbow him, dipping your head down to where his rests on the desk to whisper in his ear.

“Cut it out,” You hiss, kicking his foot beneath the desk, “She almost saw!”

“Oh no,” He gushes, turning his head so that a sliver of his face shows, glinting with a shit-eating grin, “Do you think we’ll get in trouble?”

“It’s not funny!” You insist, keeping your voice as hushed as possible, “I’ve never been in trouble before, and if I get sent to the principal’s office, I’ll-”

“Y/L/N! Hargrove!” You stiffen at the voice of your teacher, your eyes widening where Billy’s only sparkle with excitement, “You two seem distracted. Anything on your minds?”

“Not mitosis.” Billy quips, straightening up from the desk and leaning back in his chair. He earns a few laughs from his scattered friends, and the teacher’s face hardens. Your stomach drops.

“You think you’re funny? You’re one missed homework assignment from failing this class. And now you’re dragging Y/N into this, too? Both of you, head to the front office. This ends here.”

There are tears burning at your eyes. You’re not the best student in the world. Hell, you’re not even in the top ten. But you’re not a bad one either, at best you slip through the cracks. You’ve never had disciplinary action taken against you, and gathering your things amongst the tense silence of your peers feels like a death sentence. 

Billy barely remembers to get his own bag, and he pointedly leaves his papers scattered over his desk. You scoop them up in your own handful, and he waits diligently by your side as you pick up your things. When you’re finally packed up he snatches your hand from where it’s hanging at your side, marching the both of you to the door.

He offers the teacher a very quaint, very polite middle finger as he drags you out of the door, and that’s what does it. The second the door shuts behind you, you burst into tears.

He looks up, alarmed at the sob you let out. The classroom you’d just exited has a row of windows that your back is facing, and he’s worried that if you turn slightly, your classmates will see you cry. As much as you’d told him it was okay to cry this morning, he’s sure you wouldn’t want your peers witnessing the meltdown you’re having. He acts fast, using your intertwined hands and yanking you into the nearest bathroom.

Your sobs echo off of the tile, and he pulls you haphazardly into his chest. Your head rests there pitifully, shoulders slumped as you cry.

“Jesus, okay,” He pants, peering under the few stalls in the back to make sure you’re alone, “What’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t know!” You do know, but it feels embarrassing to say it out loud, “I just- I’ve never been in trouble before, and it’s going on my-” You break to quell another sob, tamping it down in your chest, “Permanent record, and-!”

“Okay, calm down.” Billy scoffs, and you’re surprised to find that it’s not a derogatory one, but a fond one, “It’s fine. All we were doing was talking, it’s not like we were smoking weed in the bathroom.”

Your head shoots up and you recognize your surroundings. You glare at him suspiciously, “You don’t have any weed on you, right?”

“No!” He laughs incredulously, “I do not have any weed on me. Now,” He takes your shoulders in his broad hands, and your fingers go cold now that his aren’t intertwined with them anymore.

“You and I are gonna calm down,” He tells you, voice slow and steady. You’re the only one that needs to calm down, but you appreciate his cooperation.

“Then we’re gonna leave this bathroom, and do you know where we’re gonna go?”

“The front office,” You recite, but he breaks into a grin, shaking his head so that his curls fly.

“But that’s where she told us-”

“She can suck my dick.” Billy scoffs, “She made you cry. Forget her.”

“Billy, I can’t just forget her,” You insist, eyes wide and teary, “She’s our teacher!”

“Today’s Friday,” He reminds you, “She’s not our teacher again until Monday.”

“Fine. Where are we really going?” You look at him skeptically, raising your hand to wipe your nose against its back.

“Okay, first, ew.” Billy wrinkles his nose, yanking your hand away from your face and wiping it with a paper towel that he jerks out of the machine. He wipes your nose next, but he does it aggressively, smearing the paper towel against your face and pushing your head back until you’re laughing, trying to swat him away. The sound makes him smile, and it doesn’t fade as he continues talking.

“We’re gonna go see a movie,” He decides, hiking the strap of his bag higher up on his shoulder. Your face darkens slightly, goofy grin dimming.

“We can’t.” You protest softly, “She told us to go to the front office. You said it yourself, Billy, we were just talking. But if we ditch, we’ll be in more trouble, real trouble.”

“I’m always in trouble,” He huffs, “And you’re never in trouble. You really think this’ll be a breaking point for either of us?”

“What’s gonna happen when we don’t show up to the office?”

“They’ll give us detention.”

“We have to go, then!” Your eyes go wide, and you start for the door. He lunges for your hand, grabbing it just before you can push your way out, and this time he doesn’t drop it when he pulls you back inside.

“Detention means we’ll get to sit together for two hours and mess around.”

“No we can’t,” You scoff, “They monitor you. So we can’t just mess around.”

“Hey.” He snaps, begging your attention with those icy blue eyes of his, “Have you ever been in detention before?”

“No.” You admit quietly.

“Right. I have. They don’t care. They don’t want to be there, and they know we don’t either. They’re not gonna punish us any further, ‘cause then they’d just have to sit there with us for longer. Trust me, this will be fun.”

“Fun,” You groan, slumping forwards into his chest rather than covering your face with your hands. It’s a bold move, but a well-received one, and you feel his firm chest shake as he chuckles.

“Yes, fun.” He promises, “But if you really wanna walk up to that office and get lectured…”

“Billy,” You bite the inside of your cheek, lifting your head up so that your chin rests against his chest, “I.. I do. I’m sorry, I know you want to have fun, and- and you can go to the movies if you want! But I don’t want detention on my record. Even if it won’t do anything, I just- it sounds bad.”

“Okay.” He says, after a moment of tense silence. His grin fades, but he doesn’t scoff or push you away. He sighs dramatically, “You’re changing me, y’know. Normally I’d be halfway home by now, but you’ve got me hauling myself in to see the principal, this is bullshit.”

“I told you you could go to the movies!” You gush, laughing weakly at his dramatic display. He brings one of his large hands up to your face, smearing his rough thumb beneath your eyes and wiping away the sticky tear tracks there.

“No,” He sighs again, huffing and puffing, “I’m the one that got you in trouble, I’m not gonna ditch you. We’ll just suffer together.”

His words strike something in you. He’s chosen to change himself, to face consequences for his actions when he’d normally flee. You’re proud of him, so insanely proud that you decide to change yourself as well, and when he leads you towards the office by your intertwined hands, you turn sharply and drag him the other way.

“Wha- Woah.” His eyes widen as you yank him down the hallway, your feet slapping against the shitty linoleum flooring. You beeline for the door, bursting into the daylight with your adrenaline-pumped chest heaving. You come to a stop just outside the building, looking back at him with a thrill glowing in your eyes.

“What movie are we seeing?” You pant, and his grin reappears.

“You’re trouble.” He declares in a laugh, “Let’s go.”

Billy drives fast. This time it doesn’t seem like recklessness, though, but fun. The windows are rolled down, and wind whips through the car and ruffles your hair. His own blonde curls are flying, in his face and over his shoulders against the seat.

“Slow down!” You shriek, laughing through your words, “We’re gonna crash!”

“What are we gonna crash into,” He gestures to the empty road in front of you, all farmland and dust as the same laughter bleeds into his own voice, “A haybale? You want me to slow down so you can admire the scenery?”

There is no scenery. There’s fields, half-dead grass rolling on for miles and miles and passing by so fast that it looks like the sand on a beach. The sky is your ocean, blue and foamy white where clouds streak across it. You pass isolated barns, groves of trees, and-

“Cows!”

“What?”

“Cows! There’s cows up there,” You gush, pointing aggressively at the pasture, “Stop!”

“I can’t-! Uh, okay,” Billy rushes to step on the brakes, wheels screeching against the poorly-paved asphalt as he skids to a stop.

You’re surprised he doesn’t burn through his tires with how fast he stops. You’re out of the car before he can even turn to look at you, seatbelt long unbuckled in favor of dashing for the cows. They’re grazing aimlessly in their pasture, only a weak white fence standing between you and them.

“Hey- Hey!” Billy shouts, rushing to get himself out of the car. He’s panting slightly when he finally stands beside you, regarding you with an indignant look, “What the fuck was that about?”

“Cows,” You croon, sticking your hands over the fence and reaching for the animals, “Come pet the cows with me, Billy!”

One of them seems very interested in any potential snacks your hand might be hiding. Its large, wet nose bumps against your skin and you laugh, long and loud and free, letting the animal explore your scent and petting along its face when it finally realizes you have nothing yummy to offer it.

There’s damp bits of grass stuck to your arm from where its mouth nuzzles against you,, and its tongue is purple when it comes out to swipe along your skin. You shriek, the sound morphing into an elated giggle.

“Oh,” Billy’s nose wrinkles and he takes a step back, “Gross.”

“It’s not gross!” You insist, pulling your arm away to wipe the grass on your jeans, “That’s just what cows do. You’ve never pulled over to pet some?”

“No,” He scoffs, “That’s the most ‘country’ shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah,” You nod gleefully, and he thinks maybe you’ve misinterpreted the scathing tone of his voice, “Come on, Billy, come pet the cows!”

“No thanks,” He shakes his head, “I’m gonna go smoke in the car. Jus’ come back when you’re done.”

You let him head back to the car only for long enough to get a few more scratches in under the chin of a cow to your right. Then you beeline for the passenger’s side, and Billy looks surprised at your arrival.

“Done?”

“No,” You shake your head, reaching for your backpack, “I’m just getting my strawberries.”

“Uh,” Billy watches, apprehensive as you pull a plastic bag of the fruit from your backpack, “You’re not gonna feed those to the cows, are you?”

“Duh,” You nod, pulling the bag open and nearly ripping the seam, “Cows love strawberries, I feed ‘em all the time.”

“You what?” Billy looks at you like you’ve told him you’re made of the red fruit you’re holding, “You’re gonna stick your fingers next to those animal’s faces with food in your hands and you don’t think they’re gonna bite you?”

“No, Billy, cows don’t bite! Not like that,” You insist, hair flying as you shake your head. “I’m not gonna put my fingers in their faces, I’m gonna hold the strawberries on my palm. Then they can’t bite me. Come on, I’ll show you!”

“I’m not feeding cows,” Billy insists, but he moves to get out of the car anyway. When he’s standing at full height he rips the cigarette out from between his lips, blowing smoke into the road, “But I’m not gonna let you run off on your own and get mauled by some hunk of beef.”

“You’re totally gonna feed the cows,” You grin, eyes narrowed at him as you turn on your heel and head back to the fence, “You’ll see!”

You’re already jamming your hand under a cow’s mouth, a strawberry staining your palm red and sticky, when Billy saunters up to the fence. He watches warily as you let the cow nose at your fingers, then it sticks its tongue out to sweep the fruit off of your skin.

You giggle at the ticklish feeling, but Billy’s mouth falls open in horror.

“Oh,” He groans, nose scrunched and grimace strong, “That’s so fucking gross. Its tongue is purple.”

“It’s cool!” You insist, offering the cow a hearty rub between the ears as it munches on your strawberry, hand slimy with spit, “Is there much farmland in California?”

“A bit,” Billy shrugs, blissfully unaware of the curious cow sneaking up behind him as he’s turned towards you, leaning sideways on the fence. “It’s kind of a mix. We didn’t live anywhere near farmland, but sometimes we went to visit Susan’s-!”

Before he can tell you what random relative lived far out in the California farmlands, there’s a cow tongue in his ear.

He jolts away from the fence with a squawk, nearly toppling over as one hand comes up to cover his ear. You’re roaring with laughter even as you help steady him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his waist while he stumbles to a stop a few feet away from the fence.

“He was looking for strawberries,” You giggle, pulling your sleeve over your hand to wipe cow spit off of his cheek, “I think that was your official welcome to Indiana, Billy.”

“Laugh all you want,” He groans, smearing his own hand over his face to rid his skin of any residual slime you’d missed, “But if we ever make it to an ocean and you wipe out, I’m laughing at you.”

“Deal,” You grin sideways at him, another strawberry in hand.

Of course, Billy does end up feeding the cows. It takes another round of hand-holding, though, where you place the strawberry in his palm and flatten yours beneath it. 

“Just be patient,” You murmur, feeling Billy’s hand tense as the cow noses at his fingers, “He just wants to say hi.”

“We’ve been acquainted,” Billy drawls, grimacing once more as the cow licks the strawberry off of his palm, “He tried eating the thoughts out of my head.”

“What thoughts?” You tease, but before you can gauge the situation and figure out whether you need to start running or not, Billy flips his hand over his shoulder to where you’re standing pressed to his back, and smears his sticky palm across your face.

“Oh,” You gasp, eyes squeezed shut and nose scrunched. You stagger backwards, nearly colliding with his car,  “Gross!”

“Oh, really?” Billy roars with laughter, grabbing you around the waist and leaning his chin over your shoulder as he presses your back to his chest, “I thought it was an Indiana welcome! I thought it was cool!”

“Not when you do it!” You can’t help but laugh, trying desperately to hold the cracked pieces of your disgusted facade together, “You’re not as cute as a cow!”

You’re lying, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“And to think,” He scoffs, loosening his hold on you but not letting go completely, “I was gonna buy your movie ticket for you.”

You’d almost forgotten your movie adventure. You’d been so wrapped up in having fun with Billy, soaring down the streets with music blaring from the speakers that you’d completely ignored the way he’d driven miles away from any nearby movie theater.

“Hey, yeah,” You stiffen in his grip, turning your head to knock your forehead with his. You try not to pay attention to how close you two are, keeping your focus on his stunning blue eyes, “Why are we out here? The theater’s back that way.” You jerk your thumb behind you in the direction you’d came, and his face settles into a smirk once more.

“We’re not going to that shitty theater,” He boasts, “We’re going to a drive-in. It’s a few miles into the next town over.”

It makes sense, you suppose. He has a cool car, and what better place to show it off?

“I’ve never been to a drive-in,” You gush, excitement brewing in your belly, “What are the showtimes?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs, finally letting you go to saunter back to his car and lower himself into the driver’s seat. You follow to the passenger’s side, tucking the empty plastic bag back in your backpack.

“We’ll catch something.” He reasons, hands finally back on the wheel as you shut your door and buckle your seatbelt, “People around here have nothing better to do, I bet there’s movies playing every hour.”

He gets started on the road once more, and you decide to let him drive uninterrupted. Although it hurts you to watch unpet cows whizz by the windows, you know you’ll be back too late if you keep stopping. When his tires crunch against gravel, then smooth over dirt, the unlit neon sign of the drive-in looms overhead. He leans out of the window at the counter, ordering a large popcorn and two sodas along with your tickets in that rough drawl of his.

He’s a bit rough when he stops on the asphalt, but that’s just how he drives. He’s used to driving recklessly, it’s not a habit easily broken. You hope you can help him live better, sending him a soft, sweet smile as he passes you your soda.

“This view good?” He glances over at you, hand already buried in the popcorn.

You nod emphatically, “Mhm! What movie?”

“No clue,” He lets out a huff of a laugh, “Does it really matter?”

“No,” You shrug, “‘Guess not.”

“It’s almost five,” Billy glances at his watch, “Are your parents gonna freak if you’re not home by dark?”

“They’re having dinner with friends tonight,” You recall relievedly, “They’ll probably be out way later than us. And they’ll just leave dinner in the fridge, they won’t know I’m gone.”

“Nice,” Billy nods, absentmindedly gnawing on a solid popcorn kernel, “My dad never goes out with friends. He doesn’t really have any, I don’t think. Susan does, work friends, but she’s probably not eager to show off her husband.”

He speaks about his dad with a bitter tone in his voice, words coming out brittle like they’ll snap if he tries putting any feeling into them. You hum in understanding; if your husband was like Neil Hargrove, you wouldn’t bring him around your friends either.

“You have friends,” You hum, “Don’t you ever eat out with them?”

“Uh,” He turns his head to stare expectantly at you, “Hello? Remember how I drove you a town over to see a movie, and I let you stop us halfway to stage a petting zoo?”

“I don’t mean me,” You gush, “Like, your other friends! The guys on the basketball team, or whoever you usually hang out with. That little crowd. You don’t go out with them?”

“Not really,” Billy shrugs, “They’re not my friends. Not like- um,” He drops his gaze to his lap, picking at the bucket of popcorn, “Not like you are.”

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, then you wet your throat to speak again, “They seem… no offense, shallow. Like- like they only talk about superficial stuff together. I’ve heard some of your conversations, I think.”

“Oh, so you’re updated on the riveting world of Hawkins High’s popularity pageant?” He scoffs, reaching for a cigarette, “Shit’s so stupid.”

“You say that from the top of the food chain,” You point out tentatively, “You don’t like it there?”

“It’s better than nothing.” He slows his attempts to self-medicate, hand frozen where he’s striking his lighter, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I’m not getting pushed into lockers. But, it’s like-” His fingers tighten slightly around the cig, jaw tight, “I got there because of what I have, not who I am. And not even that, I got there because of what it looks like I have. They think I’m some kind of rich kid ‘cause I have a nice car, but we’re lucky we don’t live in the trailer park. They think I’m mowing my way through the cheerleading team because they’ve seen us talking before. Sure, maybe I’ve flirted with a few, but-” His face darkens in frustration, nose scrunching slightly, “On the weekends, my dad makes me do shit around the house. And on the weekdays, I’m looking after my sister.” 

You don’t point out his slip-up, how in a fit of passion he’s dropped the ‘step-’. It’s nice to hear.

“I have no time to sleep around,” He chuckles darkly, disdainfully, “Not often. But because people like me, or- or like what they think of me, they just assume I’m selling myself out for it.”

“It’s bullshit,” He concludes, huffily so, “It’s all bullshit. And it’s not gonna last past high school.”

A tense silence falls over the car after he’s finished speaking. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised anymore, not after two days of emotional curveballs from the man, but you think it might be the most you’ve ever heard him speak.

He looks nervous, fiddling with the keys in his ignition. Before he can regret opening up, you reach out to take his hand, pulling it away from the keys and linking yours into it on his thigh.

“I’m glad I’m your friend, Billy.” You confess, equal parts honest and tender. You want the words to soak into his veins, flow through his bloodstream and bloom sweet blossoms inside that light up his dark world.

“Me too,” He breathes, eyes glued to your intertwined hands as he tightens his fingers into the grip. As if on cue, the movie screen lights up, and it’s just barely dark enough outside to see the film.

“Here we go,” You settle in your seat, keeping your hand securely in his own, “Popcorn?”

Billy uses his free hand to pass the bucket over, and you can feel the heat concealed by the thick paper bucket hovering just above your hands. You munch on the buttery snack, a kernel already lodged in your teeth.

To Billy’s slight disinterest, it’s an old romance movie. He should have known, all that ever plays at these movie marathon nights are romances and beach flicks. He has a fleeting thought that he’d rather be watching women in bikinis, but it seems like something he shouldn’t think while holding your hand, so he pushes it away and tries to focus on the grainy, black-and-white footage. 

The transatlantic accents and over-dressed main characters only hold his attention for a few minutes. But he’s family to Neil Hargrove, and he knows how to tune out a boring speech. He focuses more on the warmth that your hand pushes against his, sweet and soft and soothing like the blanket he used to get tucked in under at his grandma’s house. His grandma who knitted that blanket herself, just for him, and who slipped him strawberry sweets anytime his dad got too drunk to notice. And the way you hold his hand feels just like his mother used to, with her thumb stacked on his so that she could stroke it like you’re doing now. He’s only held his dad’s hand a few times, and he’s not able to remember much. He just remembers his mom had always dropped Neil’s hand in a big dramatic fashion, claiming that it was like holding a dead fish.

There’s nothing morbid about holding your hand, though. You’re not stiff and cold like his father, your fingers curve around his and mold to his skin. You not only reciprocate, you initiate, squeezing at a funny line or brushing over the back of his hand.

You’re all the best parts of the people he’s loved, and none of the bad parts of the ones he couldn’t. If he was any sleazier, he’d ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven.

You let out a particularly sweet laugh at a scene and the sound takes him back to only a few nights ago, sitting on his bed and feeling safe. He’d actually forgotten about his father until the man had stormed his bedroom, and he marvels at how you’d managed to suck the terrible thoughts from his head. 

Your study session puts mitosis in his mind. Then biology, and he wonders if there’s ever been two organisms more compatible with each other. Personally, he thinks your biology is pretty basic: you were made for him, and he was made for you. 

He’s broken out of his scientific reverie when your head falls to his shoulder. You throw a quick glance up at him through your lashes, silently begging for permission for something you’ve already done. His heart thuds in his chest as he watches you with curious eyes, and a slow nod of his head is all you need to settle against his side. You’re at an awkward angle, side arched over the center console to get your head to his shoulder. That makes it better, Billy thinks, that you had to work for it. It means you really mean it, that you’re not just doing it because it’s convenient. You’re loving him because you want to.

“Shitty movie,” Billy grumbles, his voice hoarse from its prolonged silence.

“Good popcorn,” You hum, reaching for another piece. Billy leans down to snatch it out of your hand with his teeth, and chews it with a growing grin as you chuckle. 

“You’re a monster,” You tease, and a word that his brain usually whispers at him past midnight, loathing in his thoughts and venom in his veins, becomes nothing more than a nickname.

He thinks he wants to be your monster if it makes you laugh like that, all teasing teeth and careful manhandling.

You’re almost afraid you’ve insulted him with the title until he leans his head against yours, neck bent at an angle. His ear is pressed to the crown of your head, and just in case he can hear your thoughts, you think extra hard: I love you.

You last longer than Billy had, but you lose interest in the film, too. It’s not that it’s boring, it’s just not particularly interesting, and your brain is moving too slow for you to concentrate on careful dialogue. Apparently, the excitement of the day has caught up with you. Your eyes are starting to droop, and you think Billy might be able to feel your lashes flutter against his bicep. If he can, he doesn’t say anything, he just stays curled around you in his seat.

Slowly, second by second, minute by minute, you fall asleep. You drift away from the world and all that remains is Billy’s arm against your cheek, his hand holding yours. You don’t know if you’re fully sleeping or not, all you know is that Billy is the one constant between your life and your dreams.

Billy feels your breathing even out, the soft puffs of air that hit his arm soft and consistent. It’s the last thing he wants to do, but he lifts his head to peer at your face, seeing that you are, in fact, asleep.

He has the strongest urge in the world to kiss your forehead. He doesn’t, half because he’s scared you’ll wake up and think he’s a creep, and half because he’s not sure he’s capable of loving back. He’s taking it slow, and he’ll stick with leaning his head on you. 

He does that until the movie’s almost over, and the romantic climax is shining on the screen.

The woman has fallen asleep on the man’s shoulder. They’re not in a car, they’re on a park bench, but her nose is nudged up against his bicep, too, and their hands are intertwined.

The man reaches up to her cheek, and so does Billy.

His hand is warm and slightly rough against the soft skin of your cheek, but it’s his warm breath against your face that wakes you. Your lashes flutter open, and the only thing you can see are Billy’s pretty blue eyes. You’re almost startled, almost caught off-guard, and then you notice the dark flecks of insecurity in them, ridged between peaks of blue like ocean waves. 

He can’t speak. He’s paralyzed, eyes unblinking against your own, unable to ask, to tell, to beg. All he can do is stare, and hope that his hand isn’t shaking against your cheek.

He licks his lips, and you know what he’s trying to muster up the courage to do.

“Billy,” You breathe, soft and careful, “Are you sure?”

He manages to hum questioningly, but it’s a choked sound from somewhere deep in his throat.

“You’re speeding again,” You let out a breathy chuckle, but you raise your hand to hold his to your face, “Is this because you want me or because you think you’ll never get the chance to have me again?”

“I want you,” Billy murmurs, and the man on screen echoes his sentiments.

The woman on screen leans in, and so do you.

The kiss you share is unlike anything Billy’s ever felt. What he’s used to is prodding tongues, nipping teeth, below-the-belt grabbing, but this is new. This is the soft, dewy sweetness of lips barely touching, and the watermelon balm spread over your mouth. It’s tender in the way that you hold his hand to your cheek, and only made more so by the fact that you’re still holding hands between the seats. It’s less of an active kiss and more of an embrace, lips holding each other in place and noses bumping.

Billy’s never felt safer letting his eyes drift shut. At night there’s always the possibility that his dad will unlock the door in the middle of the night and take out insomnia-fueled rage on him. In his car he’ll get arrested for loitering. Now there’s nothing but you, and that’s all he ever wants there to be.

There’s muted claps from the other cars around you as the movie ends, and you choose to attribute the closing scene of fireworks to your kiss and not the leads’. When you draw away it’s with soft, content sighs, awestruck and breathless.

“I want you too, Billy.” You vow, more than happy to let him know he’s loved, “I’m glad we didn’t go to the front office.”

“Me too,” Billy breathes, leaning in to brush his lips against yours one last time, just holding them there as his fluttering eyes stare into yours.

The sound of revving engines breaks you out of your trance, and Billy pulls away from your face to look over your head. He’s still got his hand on your cheek, and you’re cradled to his chest as he watches everyone around you disperse.

“Let’s head home,” You murmur into his collarbones, kissing the skin there chastely, “You can stay the night at my house again, if you want.”

“I should get home,” He admits reluctantly, “My dad is probably still freaked about last night.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go back,” You hum, tracing the outline of a bandage through his shirt against his stomach.

“Me too,” He sighs, and finally lets your face go when the overhead lights to the lot flick on, “But we’ll get out soon.”

“Oh? Where are we going?” You settle back in your seat, turning to face him with curious eyes.

“California,” He smiles, and his genuine one is a breathtaking sight, “And anywhere you want to stop along the way.”

“That sounds perfect,” You sigh happily, head leaning comfortably back against the headrest. A yawn breaks through your lips and scrunches up your face, and Billy has to fight himself so that he doesn’t pull over and kiss the lines near your mouth.

The silence in his car is peaceful now, serene. There’s nothing left unsaid anymore, nothing hidden in your eyes and nothing withheld in your touches. You drift off to sleep wishing you were still holding Billy’s hand, and when you wake up, you are.

“Hey,” He whispers, squeezing your hand where his is interlocked with it, “Hey, wake up. You’re home now, we’ve gotta get you inside.”

“Hm? Oh,” You hum, bleary eyes taking in the outline of your house against the harsh beams of Billy’s headlights. “Thanks, Billy.”

“Uh-huh,” He nods, offering you a hand after you undo your seatbelt, “C’mon, if you can stand, I’ll carry you up to bed.”

You;re more than happy to let him sweep you off of your feet. He can feel your smile as you bury it in his neck, and he doesn’t even worry about shutting his car off and locking it before he pushes open your front door. Sure enough there’s tinfoil covered dinner on the counter alongside a note from your parents, and Billy marvels at how well they take care of you even when they’re not home. 

“To the right,” You instruct him, realizing he’s only ever gotten into your room from the window outside, “And it’s the second door down.”

“Got it,” He murmurs, chin bumping your cheek.

Your bed is still unmade from that morning, and he yearns to slip beneath the covers again. He’s jealous when he tucks you in, and you’re glad you wore comfy clothing to school so that you can burrow under your blankets and not worry about changing.

“Goodnight,” Billy leans down, an inch away from your face, “Can I…?”

You lean up to do it for him, pushing your lips against his once more.

He melts into it, and the way that your nails scratch the hair at the base of his scalp only makes it worse.

“Goodnight,” You mumble, words wonky and misspoken against his lips, “I had fun today, Billy. I’m glad we’re friends, and I’m glad we’re more.”

“Me too,” He agrees, and the sentiments he’s agreeing to feel foreign to him. Five days ago he’d have been the least likely person on earth to have a friend, and now he’s got a partner to boot. In every sense of the word, he loves you, even if he won’t say those three words yet.

“Please be safe,” You cup his cheek, stroking over his slightly bruised cheekbone with tenderness he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to, “And if he hurts you again, stay with me instead.”

“I will,” Billy promises, dotting a dewy kiss to the side of your mouth as you settle into sleep, content with his safety.

He tells himself he’s just puttering around, throwing a stray sock into the laundry hamper and straightening a book he’d nearly knocked off of your nightstand on the way in. But really he’s waiting to make sure you’re really asleep, ring already slipped off of his finger and growing sweaty in his palm.

Once he’s sure you won’t wake, he peels back the covers on your bed, taking your hand in his. It’s got a familiar weight to it, a fact that he mentally celebrates, and his fingers shake as he slides the metal band onto your finger.

Having a ring to chuck in the garbage is gonna hurt a whole lot more when they leave, he reminds himself. Then, ‘If’.

“If they leave.” Your soft voice rings in his ears, and as he treks back to his car, revving the engine in the silvery light of the moon, there’s a feeling he’s never felt before rising in his chest. Hope: “Some people stay.”

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

[en-geneisaxx]

𝐴 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑝. 𝑂ℎ, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑛: ℎ𝑖𝑠.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐘/𝐧

Warnings/content: Death, mentions of killing, stabbing, abuse, angst (not sure if I did this successfully but oh well), yandere behaviour (m), high school au, fluff, stalking (through camera), threatening, mdni, lmk if I missed anything!

A/n: HEY HEY HEY! Came back from the dead after writing 8 drafts for this one fic (gonna make it two long fics bc hopefully starting a fresh clean draft will help me out for once). I hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always welcome!

PLEASE, 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆, 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄. (This acc applies to every author out here, especially if we spend sm time on writing these). The lack of sleep I had just to make this decent is concerning. We, writers, work hard on our fics, so we wish that it spreads to many audiences as possible

Once again, if you ever read, I hope you enjoy!

Part 1

To start off high school, which school will you be attending? Turns out it’s your brother’s school:

Karasuno High.

September has started, and it’s your first day of High School. You walked together with your older brother, Daichi, who’s going to leave once it’s your second year. You felt quite disappointed, for you liked hanging out with your brother. For many, that’s a special case, because there’s always the stereotypes of siblings on bad terms with each other. However, being brought up in a strict environment, you found comfort in each other. Simply put, the two of you depended on each other, and it was mutual. 

Being in such an environment has taken a toll on your mental health and personality. At first, your parents were so kind to you, bringing you up like a normal child. But, once your tutoring started at the age of four, they gave you the harsh treatment. It was cruel, because you were only young, yet they threatened to disown you, just for not doing the day’s worksheets. They made you cry, hit you, abused you, changing you from a bubbly E to a “depressed” I. Yes, people had made fun of you as you got older, calling you “depressed” or “emo”. It was normally based on your attitude, the colours you wore the most, how you presented yourself. Tired of trying to prove your classmates wrong, you decided to play along to their judgements. You know the saying, ‘You are what you pretend to be’? Turns out, that was true, and you had problems changing it. 

When you’re alone, talking to yourself, you’re so chatty and energetic. You make yourself as the life of the party, cheering up all these imaginary people that live inside your head. That was the consequence of being delusional. You did know it was fake, yet when else could you act so happy? It was what kept you going in hard times, so you decided to cling onto your dreams for a little longer. 

Though, the extra education has certainly helped you in your studies and grades. From the start onwards, you were well-known for your brilliant mind and excellent grades. People had the impression that you were smart, and had always thought luck was on their side when you made your appearance to their team. You enjoyed that, the feeling of being admired and respected. That was the motivation to keep your grades top-notch, to stay as the model student. You wouldn’t dare stain your shining reputation. Sick? Doesn’t matter, you’ll miss out on your lessons, and you’ll miss 20% percent of your attendance. Being behind anyone annoys you, or more like scares you, because you know your parents are going to be asking questions on why you weren’t top of the class. It’s frustrating, because you give your all in lessons anyways. 

So, having an opportunity to be with your brother more elated you, easing your nerves of attending this new school, a new chapter in your life. You still felt nervous, the social anxiety getting to you, but hopefully there’ll be people you could get along with, right? Despite all the names, people still liked talking to you, interacting with you like a normal person. You’re surprised how you managed to fit in, because you were quite behind in terms of trends and other popular things due to your parents restricting the apps on your phone. Remembering that you weren’t an outcast, you continued walking to your school with your brother with slight confidence. The scenery was making you forget about those kinds of situations anyway, for the breathtaking autumn leaves caught your eye. The vivid colours of orange, yellow and green made you feel calm and relaxed, enjoying the joyful splatters of paint that swirled across the blue canvas you were portrayed in. The sunshine added to the beauty, making things look so much more aesthetic. 

It was just a normal school building, but knowing that this is a new start excited you. New school, new classmates, and possibly new friends. You happily strided through the school, forgetting that you needed to find your classroom. Luckily, helping you was one of Daichi’s priorities, and he pulled you by the collar before dragging you to the correct corridor. You noticed that the people on your floor weren’t that tall, until you saw a big, blue-haired giant with an orange shrimp. The contrast intimidates you, and you almost quickly shake it off.

Almost.

You, from the corner of your eye as you watched the pair argue past you, saw Daichi looking at them for a second too long. That sparked the curiosity in you, lips parting to ask a question, but that couldn’t even be asked because you, now, have reached the door of your class. Daichi checks the time, and his rushed manner gives you the impression that he had somewhere to be. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulder, “Y/n, I know you’ll do just fine. But, if you need me, I’m on the third floor, the last classroom in the corridor. I got to go now, class is going to start. I’ll meet you after school at the gym. Good luck!” He says before fast walking through the corridor. You look at your class, First day, gotta do well. You were relieved when no one seemed to pay attention to your entrance, busy talking to one another. You scanned the room, looking for a decent empty seat and-

HANG ON, THE SEAT IN THE BACK CORNER NEXT TO THE WINDOW IS EMPTY!? You thought the people were crazy for letting such a seat be vacant. Nevertheless, you claimed the area as yours, setting out your equipment before looking outside, waiting for your teacher to come.

“Hi, um…” An unknown voice reaches out to you. You hum in acknowledgement of his presence, focusing on finishing the last bits of your notes. But honestly, if only you looked at the owner, would you have focused your attention on something so much better, so much worthwhile. He notices this, and smiles, sitting in the chair from the desk ahead, letting you finish. He knows how important studying is, being studious himself. 

You continued for a minute or so, stretching your body before tidying up. You had almost forgotten the extra person, who was so damn quiet.

“I assume you’re done, Miss Sawamura?”

Finally, you snap your head at the man, and never did you think you would lay your eyes on someone so perfect. He was a beautiful mix of cute and sexy, and his voice went straight to your clothed womanhood. Not to mention that mole next the left side of his warm brown eyes, and his fluffy silver hair. His body was incredible, sneaking a glance at the unbuttoned area of his white shirt. He was everything you could’ve asked for.

“I love you.” You sighed dreamily, catching the boy off-guard.

“H-Huh, can you repeat that?” He acts innocently, knowing damn well what he heard. 

“I-I said, ‘Yeah, I am.’” What a pathetic lie you thought I couldn’t even act it out properly… “But, anyways, why do you ask?” 

“Oh, Daichi asked me to collect you. He’s busy with the team right now.” He answers. “By the way, I’m Koushi Sugawara. I’m the vice-captain of Karasuno, the official setter andddd your brother’s best friend!” He says proudly, boasting about all his achievements. He laughs when he sees your gleaming eyes, your figure that’s amazed by how blessed he is. “C’mon, let’s go to the gym, and there we can see Daichi.”

“HUH?!” Shouts a very offended and confused Sugawara, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M NOT THE OFFICIAL SETTER ANYMORE?”.

Daichi sighs, tired by repeating the same thing, “Suga, the first-year setter is really talented. Though you have experience, he’s just…” He thinks of the right word, wary of Sugawara’s furious glare. Instead, he just leaves it like that, unfinished.

“What about me being vice-captain?” He asks agitatedly, hoping he’ll agree to that since Sugawara’s a role model after all.

“Suga, you’re almost on the same level as crazy as Nishinoya and Tanaka…” 

“I’M SMART THOUGH, AND I ALWAYS BEHAVE WELL!” He reasons, hands flying about in the air.

“What you’re doing right now says otherwise. And plus, Ennoshita is a good choice too. He could actually be the vice-captain instead.” Daichi crushes Sugawara’s heart, stretching his body, unbothered by the silver boy’s sad look. 

“The best friend’s bit is true…right?” The poor boy mumbles, but loud and clear enough to hear. 

“I dunno.” Your brother jokes, but Sugawara took it personally. He starts being emotional, moody and hurtful to others. You thought it would be too early to do physical contact with this angel, but you couldn’t help it. 

You wrap your hands around him, head on his shoulder, the two of you rocking gently as you both clung to each other. First time meeting, and already you two are acting like a loving couple. You gently pat his back as he finds purchase in the crook of your neck. The whole gym is quiet, everybody is too busy watching the scene that’s taking place before their eyes. 

“Suga, you can be my best friend. My sweet Sugar…” 

His ears perk up at this, a pink blush colouring his soft cheeks. He found this cute, he found you cute, and he was touched by your actions towards him. He nods his head, which is still buried in your neck, flaming hot as a result of his blushing, and hugs your waist even tighter. 

“Thank you, Angel.”

“HEY, Y/N!” Nishinoya, the grade school-looking kid, who turns out to be a year older than you, shouts, running to you, “WHAT WAS THAT, ABOUT EARLIER?!”

Tanaka chimes in too in agreement, “YEAH, YOU MADE US FEEL LIKE THE SINGLE ASSES WE ARE.” 

They reenact the scene -horribly- as you stood there, awkwardly watching a summary of what had happened just a few hours ago. You thought it was yesterday, for it was a midnight blue sky instead of the ombre of oranges, pinks and blues with the blazing sphere raised in the air. You circle around a nearby lamppost, distancing yourself from the herd of animals as you wait for your dearest brother to come. Checking your phone, you stare at it blankly, unsure of what to do due to boredom. Randomly, you click on the calendar app, suddenly being reminded of Suga’s birthday. 

“Y/n!” Sugawara calls, waving his hand in the slightly cold night air. He wore a blue scarf and a black jacket, nose, cheeks and ears having a dash of pink. When he got closer to you, he enveloped you into his arms, pissing off Daichi. 

“Ugh, enough with this ‘couple’ activity, let’s go home…” Daichi groans out.

Home. Gosh, with how perfect the day was did you forget that your parents existed. Did you forget you can’t have a boyfriend? Crushes were allowed, but not boyfriends. Your mother clearly stated you can only have a boyfriend when you’ve finished your studies. Man, and you decided to take uni, so it’ll take until after 20 years or so…

As you two linked arms under the gentle light of the mysterious moon, you continued to dread what would happen if you and Suga really got together. Because, right now, it’s more like Suga’s doing this as your best friend. 

Hah, there’s no way he’ll like me, right?

Is this first love at sight?

When Sugawara first saw you, it was when you were on the stands, little you cheering your brother and his team. As Sugawara made his way to serve, a wave of panic crashed into him, losing his self-composure and staring ahead to the many people who eyed him, including you. Luckily, you managed to save him right before the referee blew the whistle for him to start:

“Sugawara-san!” You shouted, “Don’t feel scared, everyone on your side of your court is your teammates, and teammates help each other, not hate each other!” 

Maybe it was at that moment did Sugawara want to stay by your side. He suddenly saw you in a different light now; just you two in a light, before an opening was seen by him. 

Wait, did she just let me see the best place to serve?

As the whistle blew, Sugawara looked at you and the spot one last time, before closing his eyes and hitting the ball. He didn’t know which team got a point, for everyone was shouting. But, when he heard your voice, you became crystal clear.

“Way to go, Koushi!!” You giggle happily, clapping your hands in such a joyful manner. He was so happy you were there, but he wished you could’ve come to more games. 

Hang on, can I make her come to more games?

He tries to think of a plan, before he realised it would be incredibly simplistic, now that Daichi told him an important piece of information.

“Haha, Suga! You know the girl that cheered you on? That was my sister, Y/n.” 

He laughed internally for how things were going the way he liked it. If you were his sister, then he could see you more by using Daichi as an excuse. Oh, and the two boys were going to the same school: Karasuno. Knowing all this, he knew he just had to wait…just a little longer.

And now that time has come. He knew that you probably forgot him, because it was quite some time ago. However, now he’ll take every opportunity he can to spend time with you, whether it be through hanging out with you at break, giving you lunch boxes at lunch, or bringing you to the gym. Anything with you will satiate his hunger for you.

Simply put, he liked you – too much.

“Hey, we need to talk.” States the elder, sitting on your bed as you spun in your chair. He had a serious look on his face, causing you to straighten your back and look at him. He deeply exhales, “Whatever you’re doing with Suga, stop it. I won’t hesitate to tell our parents.” 

That alone made you livid. You burned with such anger, so much it broke the scales. He’s even threatening you? The fuck? You sometimes had thought lowly of your brother, especially when you were fazed by wrath, but never did you expect him to be such a dick. 

“How fucking dare you.” You cursed through gritted teeth, your self-control on the edge of disaster. Your knuckles turned pale-white, eyes darkened with fury as you stared at the bastard. “You know damn well how bad my life is, yet you won’t bother helping me when I see the light?” 

“That light’s not supposed to be Sugawara’s – in our parents’ eyes, I mean.” 

“So what, you gonna act all good and treat me like shit too?” You wouldn’t even try showing an ounce of respect at this point. 

“Firstly, I don’t like the language you’re using. Secondly, I’m just trying to protect you. You know the rules, there’s no point in breaking them.” He reasons.

“Don’t protect me, not when I’ve finally found a reason to be happy.” You said coldly, staring into his soul with such emotion. 

“You can’t keep that reason if our parents find out.” 

“Then they can go and fuck themselves for all I care.” You said bluntly before facing your desk, touching up on some notes from class. He sighs, knowing it’s utterly pointless to try and help such a stubborn sister. 

“Don’t come to me when you fall into despair. This was your choice, I was only trying to save you.” 

November.

It’s the month of the Inter-High Preliminaries, where other volleyball teams fight to go to the Nationals. The team has been training hard, getting experience from practise matches. They used it well and have managed to defeat the Iron Wall of Date Tech, yet it just wasn’t enough to beat the powerhouse school: Aoba Johsai. 

Kageyama, the tall, blue-haired giant, was stressed beforehand about that very match. Their setter, Oikawa, was better overall in some things, even winning the ‘Best Setter Award’. The two setters went to the same team: Kitagawa Daiichi. To Kageyama, Oikawa was a role model, a person to look up to. 

Oikawa was different. Instead, he looked to Kageyama as a person to beat, to look down upon. You see, when Oikawa was the only best setter in the team, he was relied on a lot, being the control cell tower. However, his abilities started going into a declining process, affecting the team in general. So, in his eyes, who made it worse? Young Tobio Kageyama. 

Kageyama had been playing volleyball in elementary school. When he joined Kitagawa Daiichi, many were surprised by his good sets. So, often, he would replace Oikawa, making the elder sit on the bench, fuming.

It drove him to just practice, practicing until he was better, until he got stronger. It led to Iwaizumi having to knock some sense into him each time, for Oikawa was overworking himself, and losing his self-control. An example of this is when Oikawa was practicing his serves, something Kageyama wished to do. Asking his elder for advice, he approached Oikawa, asking if he could teach him how to do his amazing jump serves. However, he viewed Kageyama as a monster, a monster like Ushiwaka – the ace of Shiratorizawa. So, he attempted to punch him right there and then. Why? Because he was afraid, he knew Kageyama had potential, enough to beat him. 

That’s how Oikawa improved for the better. How he was able to use all that training to beat his underclassmen. He may seem cocky, but really, he’s humble. He knows his strengths and weaknesses and tries to improve. That’s how he was able to bring out the best of his players in his sets. That's right, he was always able to make his team stronger, probably from his experience of improving and understanding himself.

 He’s loved by many, especially girls, but he’s never really found the one. 

Until you appeared.

There: a sweet girl who isn’t like those noisy little fangirls. A humble person like himself. He grew an interest in you, and, through annoying Hinata and Kageyama, brought himself to you. 

“Hello there,” He gave a flirtatious smile, “what’s your name, pretty?”

You couldn’t lie: he was handsome. That tall height, the hair, his looks - he was another beautiful boy. But, there’s a problem – what about Sugawara? He was basically your first crush, someone you would die for. Moreover, you said he was your happiness. But what about Oikawa? What about the very man who’s asking your name in such a sexy manner? 

Wait, but I’m not Suga’s girlfriend, so he has no control over me.

Wrong. Sugawara believes that he can control you, and wouldn’t mind getting rid of the problem that’s blocking his way into becoming your forever. You should’ve been smarter if you wanted the poor handsome man to live, because now Sugawara’s gonna eliminate the problem – and fast.

“I’m Y/n…Y/n Sawamura.” 

Ah, Sawamura as in their captain’s family name?

“Oh, are you Daichi’s sister? I never knew he had one…” His eyes drift off to the floor, before smiling and meeting yours again, “That won’t stop me from asking you out though-”

“What are you doing with my girl?” Sugawara asks coldly, eyes piercing his soul. It gave you the chills, the way Sugawara looked so scary, like he was mental. Oikawa was taken aback by this, eyes blinking in confusion,

“You have a boyfriend? Mr. Refreshing is your boyfriend?” He looks back at the two of you. You didn’t want to answer, because you didn’t really know what kind of relationship you are in with Sugawara. You guys said you were best-friends, yet you two never really acted like one without romantic feelings. 

But you didn’t need to put everything on the line right now, for Sugawara brushed by him and dragged you away. That firm grip made your hand ache, and you begged for him to stop. Only until you guys got away from the crowd did he finally speak…and change. When you hissed in pain when trying to make your hand move, Sugawara got on his knees and started kissing it, saying his apologies in a chant, looking up at you with doe eyes. You’re shocked by the contrast, how could he have switched everything about him so quickly? Your bodies press as he brings you in for a hug, stroking your hair with his hand and the other rubbing your back in small circles.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n…Just don’t hang out with other guys, ok?” 

Fuck. It was so calm and gentle the way he said his subtle threat. It was so calm and gentle yet those words itself choked you, making you feel trapped. It didn’t feel as good, for it was suffocating the way Sugawara wanted to be with you 24/7. You were bewildered with yourself: do you like this or hate it? You’re not pushing him away, yet it feels weird. 

You hear Hinata calling both of your names, looking for you guys. You two separate yourselves from the hug, coming out of the abandoned corridor and following Hinata to the courts. 

Just before the game started, Oikawa said to you,

“Hey, pretty, if I win this match, you have to go on a date with me, ok?” He didn’t even bother letting you answer, running out of the doors and joining his team.

33-31. Who were the victors? Was it the devastated team that fell silent and on the floor in despair, or the standing powerhouse team that cheered in victory of defeating the ‘wingless crows’? Oikawa smirked in your direction, knowing he’ll get a date with you.

Or so he thought. 

“That bastard…” Sugawara mutters,

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Y/n~” Oikawa waves at you as both your teams meet up with each other. The crows express their annoyance and anger to the thriving plants, and they reciprocate it back. 

“Oikawa,” Daichi forces a fake smile on his face, “what makes you say my sister’s name, but less know her?” He questions, with Sugawara pressing his shoulder more firmly against yours. 

“Why, we met each other. And,” His eyes look at yours, “remember the deal? Give me your number, I’ll text you when we meet again.” He rummages in his bag for his phone, while Daichi yells at him.

“WHAT DEAL DID YOU MAKE WITH MY SISTER?” He looks at you, fuming, “WHAT DEAL DID YOU MAKE WITH HIM? WHAT DO YOU MEAN ABOUT ‘MEET AGAIN’?” 

Oikawa was first to take a step out of his line, going through your bag until he got your phone. Everyone just stood there, shocked by this rude awakening. After successfully obtaining your number, he winks at your team, waving his phone in the air before heading off with his teammates, the victors. 

“Ah, I forgot.” He aims this directly at Sugawara, 

“Beat ya to it.”

Sugawara wasn’t going to have this. He stares at the disappearing figure as he mentally foreshadowed the upcoming events very subtly, 

“We’ll see who gets the last laugh, who’ll stand victorious in gaining Y/n’s love.” 

 “Y/n.” Daichi started, the urge to scream at you was in favour of winning, “why did Mr. Oikawa know your name, tell us about some kind of deal, and even have your number?” 

You wanted to cry, overwhelmed by the events that happened in less than a day. 

“Daichi, I think Y/n should stay with me.” Sugawara stated nonchalantly, as if he didn’t abuse his right as his best friend just to have you all for himself. Daichi nods in agreement, thinking he should trust Sugawara since the silver-haired boy was smart overall. 

“Yeah. Y/n, you’ll stay with Sugawara when we get back to the hotel.” He gets inside of the bus as the others hop in. You sit in the window seat at the back, head pressed against the window as Sugawara sat next to you, taking sneaky glances as you look at the scenery. Finally, you shift your head onto Sugawara’s shoulder, the two of you talking as everyone on the bus fell into a deep slumber.

“Suga,” You play with his hands, “I want you to cuddle me later.”

This was so unexpected for the both of you, because you never really asked for these things. However, you felt like you needed a hug, comfort, and that only Sugawara can only provide that. 

“Of course, Sugar…” He puts his chin on your head, “I’ll be the one who does these things to you,” His hand strokes your face as you try to fall asleep, 

“I’ll be the one you only gonna need.”

It was a good few hours on the bus before you guys reached the hotel. Everyone stands outside, yawning in fatigue after a long and tiring day. You cling onto Sugawara for support, to which he willingly helps as Mr. Takeda gives out his speech.

“You all did well. Just because you didn’t win doesn’t mean you weren’t good.” He was about to continue before Kageyama cut him off.

“But we weren’t good enough. Us losing proves that.” 

Sugawara whispers a ‘Wait for me for a few seconds, Y/n.’ as he helps you stand up, before marching over to Kageyama with annoyance. 

“Stop being negative! That’s what makes us feel bad. We did our best, and it’s better to lose proudly because of how hard we fought rather than not giving our all. You need to understand that this isn’t the last, and that there are many opportunities! All we need is to rest, reflect and get ready to improve. Stop dwelling over the sad stuff and focus on what to do next!” 

Kageyama was about to resume his degrading speech, but Sugawara prevented him from doing so. 

“Negativity….Be gone!” He jabs Kageyama in the chest, earning a pained yelp from the official setter. Everyone laughs at this, with Asahi adding, “Yep, I know how that feels like, Kageyama..” to the fun. The team settled down inside, eating a hearty meal despite crying all over again, and, now, prepared to go to sleep. You shared a room with Sugawara, plopping down next to him as you gave him a big hug. The two of you stayed like that until your phone vibrated, holding a message. 

“I really wanna see you again, but I wanna make things special. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it will be my first ever date, and so I wanna make it memorable. Meet me at 7pm at this hill on Christmas Day. See you, pretty.”

“He wants you on such a nice day, huh…” Sugawara sighs, “Do you want to go?”

“I kind of need to though,” 

He smiles, “I’ll make sure you won’t have to.” 

“Really?” You were shocked and confused, how could he?

“Mhm,” He pulls you into a hug again, “you’ll never have to see him,

 ever again.”

December 25th

Date (Meeting) with Oikawa. 

You stared at the reminder for the day, feeling quite nervous about…everything. This was your first date, yet you wished it could’ve been with someone you felt close to, someone who felt like a boyfriend. Oikawa was just a victorious gambler, winning the grand prize of taking you out. He did seem quite handsome, but that was pretty much it for his first impression. 

Ignoring the upcoming event, you go downstairs to eat lunch, surprised that Sugawara was there. He might have given off your entrance to Daichi with his eyes, and you wished you stayed upstairs just for a little longer. You swear you could’ve passed out right there and then when you saw Daichi’s hell-like figure, his anger spreading throughout him like flames. The way you couldn’t see his eyes, how you couldn’t even hear him breathe; it all terrified you, leaving you in a petrified state as you forgot how to breathe yourself. 

Suddenly, you were in a world of black.

[Now playing: Lucifer – Enhypen ]

You gasp, taking a deep breath as you wake up, realising you were back in your room. Making sure you weren’t in a dream, you check your phone – 20:13. 

Geez, I’ve been knocked out for this long?

Feeling thirsty, you get out to get a drink, before the feeling that you’ve forgotten about something haunts you. 

What is today?

You check your phone again, December 25th – Christmas. But what could you have forgotten? Was it you didn’t text your friends with merry greetings, give them the presents, or eat a Christmas meal? It was bothering you, until you focused on the time. Time; only then did it hit you: you were supposed to meet up with Oikawa. Checking the messages app, you press on his contact, shocked when you haven’t received a message. Hearing the frightened screams of your mother, you rush downstairs, listening to the TV as your family panics.

“Good evening. Police have sent warnings to the people of the Miyagi Prefecture in particular to watch out as Aoba Johsai Setter, Tooru Oikawa, was found dead near a hill today. Many are surprised by the sudden death, and experts have said that this was an act of murder. Investigations are taking place as they try to find the murderer responsible for the murder. This has brought devastation to everyone as they try to indigest the news. 

This was the case of the Christmas Day Murder.

Tooru Oikawa, may you rest in peace.”

Without knowing, you cry as you felt an immense feeling of guilt, pity and regretfor the tragic death of someone who was genuinely nice. You wished you met up with him, gave him his prize, because maybe, just maybe then he would have lived to see another day. 

“Oikawa…” You whimper in despair, “I’m so sorry…” You kneel as pictures and videos of himself are played on the screen, regret evident with the crystal tears that cried for him.

Ah, how good that felt! 

Wipes himself clean as he, too, watches the news. He cackles, “GUESS WHO GOT THE LAST LAUGH NOW, OIKAWA.” He closes his eyes while grinning, taking himself back to that moment…

[ Now playing: My Love Mine All Mine – Mitski ]

Shit, I hope I won’t be late! He hoped, driving to the hill as fast as he could. He was so excited, occasionally checking his face every now and then, jumping out of his car and running up only to be met with the natural world. His joyous smile quickly faded as he looked around, sadly finding out you haven’t arrived yet. He sighs in disappointment, lips in a pout as he felt that he got here so fast for nothing – that he wanted, at least. Maybe he shouldn’t have come at all, so that he could have a chance to avoid the Harbinger of Bad News. 

Where’s Y/n? I miss her so much…

Hearing the sound of cracking twigs, he spins around almost immediately, your name slipping past his lips as he beamed. Yet, nothing was in his view. Without warning, he got strangled from behind, the owner of the arms that choked Oikawa still unknown, and slowly cut off his air supply.

The fuck!? How could someone have gotten behind me so fast? 

As the victim rolls his eyes back to his skull, his limbs start to weaken, giving up on fighting as he stands between the lines of life and death. Seeing that he was nearly as dead, the host grabs his knife, stabbing Oikawa’s body repeatedly until he was drained of blood, and when the stabber would be covered in the red ‘poison’. Looking at the bloody and scarred dead body that lay helplessly on the floor, he gave a very loud laugh, cutting away bits of his hair with his knife to keep as a trophy.

Walking away from the crime scene, he hums a song to commemorate the achievement:

“‘Cause my love is mine, all mine…”

“Y/n, why are you crying…” Daichi asks through sniffles, having a congested nose due to his endless release of tears. 

“The fact he was all alone…all alone while waiting just for me…Oh, I feel so horrible. I shouldn’t have been so judgemental of him, of his actions.” 

“I guess that was the price of overreacting…I think I got ahead of myself. I’m sorry, Y/n,” He looks up at the ceiling to gesture his apology to Heaven, “I’m sorry, Oikawa. You were a great captain, teammate, setter, and person as a whole. I’ll dedicate my plays to you.” He pats you on the back before heading to his room. 

“This was TV Asahi, good night.” 

Commercial came on, and so you switched off the electronic as you made your way to your bedroom, sitting at your desk. Your mind was just full of Oikawa, and you wanted to do something for him. Since you enjoyed drawing, you took out your pencil case and a sheet of paper as you drew the man himself. Due to never really having a normal meetup with him, you talked to the drawing as if it was Oikawa, secretly wishing he was in your room right now, whether it be as a living human or conscious ghost. 

It went on for hours, staring at the finished product before shedding one final tear of the day. It was nearly midnight, so you bid drawing Oikawa goodnight, tucking yourself in your bed covers as you attempted to go to sleep. 

[Now playing: Rises the Moon – Liana Flores ]

Do it for Oikawa…Do it for Oikawa…

Is this what guilt does to people? It haunts them? Does it manipulate them into thinking it was their fault? It made it hard to fall asleep, because he was supposed to wake up into another day too. 

This wasn’t what Sugawara wanted, and he wouldn’t accept this outcome. As he looked at your restless figure through the hidden camera he placed when lying you in bed earlier, he slammed his hand on the table, messing up his hair in frustration as he saw that you didn’t check your phone. He sent you text messages, one asking if he could come over to comfort you, but unsuccessfully couldn’t make it to your bed, by your side. 

He touches the screen, hand touching your pixelated figure as he wished you were in his arms, sleeping soundly under the moonlight. Don’t mistake Sugawara as a vicious, manipulative killer. He just loves you so much he yearns to have the exact same amount back. The thought of you caring for someone gave him the impression that he hasn’t got 100%. Therefore, he resorts to insane methods, such as death, to make you have one less person to care about. He just wants to experience the full package of you all for himself. For him, that isn’t selfish at all. Rather, he views it as a committed relationship between the two parties.

If it weren’t for any third parties, you would get a lover boy who just solely wants to make you happy. No death, violence, blood, but daisies and a refreshing breeze in your lives. 

They say that you needed a traumatic backstory if you ever became a monster, yet why didn’t he have one? His childhood was full of laughter and joy, as if he was blessed with the sunshine forever shining down on him. Why and how did his moon cover his sun will be left in mystery, but if it happened because of you, it could be because of love. A weird, deadly, but beautiful love. 

After sunny days, when the sun disappears from the sky,

Rises the moon…

[Now playing: I wanna be yours – Arctic Monkeys]

1 new notification

Y/n: Please come over.

You stare at your glowing white phone screen in the dark. Falling asleep seemed like a challenge, still disturbed the news of today. Having shivers down your spine, you needed warmth from someone, like Sugawara. 

Since waiting seemed to take a long period of time, your heavy lids start to come at a close. However, the last thing you see won’t be an empty space on the bed, because, just on cue, Sugawara makes it to your bedroom window, which you lazily unlocked. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Sugar.” He snuggles up beside you, arms around your body as he strokes your hair. 

“Suga…

What are we?

You try to keep yourself awake as you share your thoughts, “It’s just…the way we act to each other, what we’re doing right now, the nicknames…everyone who passes by us would think we were a couple.” 

“Were we not?” 

Wait, so for the past few months, we weren’t best friends?

“Y/n, I thought you would’ve known by now. I thought you liked me too.” 

Taking your hands in his, he confesses with his genuine love he has for you,

“You know, you make me sing songs all about you. Here’s one I hope you understand,

He looks at the feminine moon before diving his gaze to you,

“

My Angel, The Sun,

Won’t you find me

Loving, Attractive,

Sweet like honey?

Because all I ever really felt

Was bliss sent from the heavens above,

And that bliss was you.

I never really understood

What made me be so drawn to you

I just may just be, a little mad

In love with you, my obsession with you

Defied all others, even if they say ‘I love you to the moon,’

Because mine may not even exist

In this universe that may have a limit.

Darling, I just want to give you the best

Because you deserve happiness.

If they say, ‘I want you too,’

It got so scared because I don’t want to

Lose you by these ugly men

I can treat you better

All you need to do is put your trust in me

I promise I’ll give you magic.

I’m a Lucifer

But don’t worry, I won’t take away your wings.

You can go up to heaven

Just make sure you fly your way back to me,

I promise you, I’ll be all you need.

My love.”

A tear of affection escapes your weary eyes as you hear the heart of Sugawara through his words. Simple, but powerful that wins your feelings. 

“I love you too, dearest Koushi.” You say just as you press your lips against his in a passionate kiss. Nothing sexual, nothing for pleasure, just pure love that the two of you hold for each other. Though you wished the minutes lasted for hours, your bodies couldn’t handle a huge amount of time without breathing, and heavy pants heat the room. You untangle your hand from his, putting one on his face as you traced over his facial features, resting it on his cheek once you felt satisfied. He looks at you from above, taking in your image as if it was his last time seeing you. You both felt that being in each other’s embrace forever was enough, and you two wouldn’t ever complain. 

And that’s how you cuddled in bed with the murderer, who made sure to rid himself of Oikawa’s blood when taking a quick, celebratory shower. He found it cute how you never thought about the possibility of him being the killer that’s rising in the trending searches, clinging onto his body with a series of emotions, but mostly to seek comfort.

Poor Oikawa, if only the two lovebirds had made their feelings clear to each other the man would have possibly lived. 

But, perhaps it was the death of Oikawa that caused a slight disturbance in your smooth flowing relationship. 

Y/n, why must I chase you again when I did this for love?

You’re lucky, because I can wait for what will be mine, always,

My dearest Y/n, my sweet angel. You’re all mine.

𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔: @rinbowaman @heeslomll @dr0wnme0ut @reesareads @pshazez @potatohoon @sungvrhs @dollyyun @diorsyun @emi-en @velvetkisscs @hoondrop @jaylaxies (lmk if you want to be added!)

[qrzrrae]

CONFESSION WALL || MATTHEW STURNIOLO

Pairing: Popular!Matt , normalgirl!oc

Caution!: This is PURELY fiction. Made for my and others entertainment. If you don't like, don't read x! Also, no Y/N here! Js using random name :')

Authors note: THIS IS MY FIRST FIC YALL. DONT JUDGE PLZZZ 🥹🥲 also no smut C's idk how to write that shit I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS THE FIRSF TIME AND I WASNT DONE YET BUTBHEREEE (part 2 in da making)

It was another normal day at Somerville high, at least for the other students. They don't know that me, I, Scarlette Genevieve Adams, A normal schoolgirl, runs the twitter account where all the juciest secrets are voluntarily put out by other students; The Somerville High Confession wall

Okay okay, if you don't know how this works is well basically, students will DM me their secrets or confessions and I'll post it, anonymously, of course.

The day was tiring. The only time I was motivated to do my work was when I was in physics class. Okay, first, I love science, and next, My crush, Matthew Bernard Sturniolo, sat next to me! I knew I had no chance at all with him, since he was the campus crush and I was like nothing, but I still loved him. Soon, physics class came, finally!! I packed up my stuff and bolted to the lab. I sat down on my desk, next to Matt. He gave me a sweet smile as I sat down, which I returned back to him.

Wait... Did he just fucking smile at me? I realized what he did and soon my face heated up as I started blushing. "Are you okay? You seem a little red there." He chuckled, facing my way. "Oh sure yeah!" I said, quickly hiding my face with a book. He was making me blush even more! "Alright, sureee." He smirked leaning back into his chair and waited for the professor. He looked so hot slouched down on the chair like that..

Finally, the class ended. It felt like we were trapped in there forever. I grabbed my bag and went straight for the door, which was hard enough since my seat was at the back. "Damn. These people are like fucking animals" Matt chuckled peeking over someone's shoulder to see if the line was getting any shorter. "Right? Like I wish I sat in the front." I reply with a chuckle. "You don't wanna sit with me in the back?" Matt said facing towards me while tilting his head slightly. "N-no! I do it's just I wanna be in the front so I could y'know.. Get out faster.." I said nervously. His head tilting made me go crazy. He nodded as the people in the room started to decrease and we were the last ones in the room.

"Alrighty, bye Scar. See ya!" Matt shouted as he waved and ran off. Finally. I can go home and check my new confessions! Checking my twitter DMS were the best parts of my day. Being the owner of the school's confession wall, I knew everything about everyone.

I opened my laptop and quickly opened twitter. 2 new messages. I clicked on my inbox and chose the first message I saw.

Oh of course. To Matthew Sturniolo, my man! I didn't want to be rude so I replied.

Done. I noticed Matt was very active when it came to replying to his admirers. But I was happy when he kept saying "no" to them, it seemed like he was saving his heart for someone, and I thought it was me.

MATT POV

I sighed dramatically as I opened my door to my room. I threw my bag down on the floor. I took my phone out of my bag and kicked my shoes off and laid down on the bed. I opened twitter and saw a new post from the Somerville confession wall account.

Another post, about me, again. I clicked on the post and saw a random girl confess to me. I loved all the attention but it was too much! Everyday, I see letters in my locker and 100 girls confess to me using twitter. I liked, wait no, I loved someone already and I need people to know that.

I hover hesitantly over the message button but I finally brought myself to click it.

I was scrolling through tiktok when I got a message request on twitter, I clicked on the notification and was shocked. Matthew Sturniolo messaged me, to confess? To who?

Oh my fucking word. HE JUST CONFESSED TO ME! TO ME?!?

I jaw slacked open as I read his message. I was shaking so bad.

[soupdots]

Hey, I haven’t posted on here in a while, but! I read Azula in the Spirit Temple (finally) and I wanted to give my thoughts on it.

Overall rating, 7.5/10

Things I liked:

• These two panels:

I love how her humanity is shown in both of them. I don’t know if we’ve EVER seen Azula given the humanity shown in the second panel— fear, specifically trauma-motivated fear (and a traumatic experience not frequently discussed, her institutionalization). It’s significant because she’s showing fear without anger, which is rare for her. And I was blown away by the first panel. I didn’t expect them to be so explicit about it. It’s almost too explicit, but honestly, it’s needed (because people clearly don’t pick up on subtext). It made me very happy to see what we’ve all been saying stated outright and in canon. These two panels pushed the comic up from more of a 6/10.

• I liked the idea of spirits and avatars (no pun intended) of Azula’s past friends and family talking to her (This is something that’s planned for my fic, if I ever get that off the ground again). It allows Azula to directly confront what has been done to her and what she has done, which is important for a redemption arc. It also allows for some healing, because she’s able to talk to those who hurt her.

• Azula is not given a quick redemption arc in 80 pages. Thank god. While of course she deserves a redemption arc, a rushed Kuvira-style redemption arc would be awful.

• I like that, true to her classic hair symbolism, Azula has her hair down throughout her time in the temple but puts it back up when she goes back to meet her Fire Warriors.

• She looks like a child in most of the frames. It’s good.

• This may have been unintentional, but I like that it’s Zuko who yells at her about how she’s hurt everybody, she’s a monster etc; then he turns into something of a monster himself. This shows that Zuko has hurt her, that he’s not perfect.

• I think the writing in general was better than past comics (definitely better than Yang’s writing) and it bodes well for the future. I think, all things considered, Faith Hicks did a remarkable job with the barely salvageable remnants of Azula’s character.

Things I didn’t like:

• Azula is still hung up on her “rightful place on the throne!” She never showed any real desire for the throne in the show, and yet for some reason that has become a key piece of her identity. It really doesn’t make sense. Also, didn’t she drop that in S&S? She is still seeking to destabilize Zuko in AITST, but appears to also have regained the desire for the throne. It’s confusing and weird.

• I think Azula could’ve been shown being a little nicer to her ‘Fire Warriors,’ given that she doesn’t have the same pressure to keep them by her side as she did with Mai & Ty Lee, but it’s fair that she’s not. In S&S she’s a pretty terrible person and takes several steps back in her redemption arc (several extremely OOC steps), and while I want to forget the Yang comics ever existed, Hicks still has to adhere to them and that means not suddenly making Azula a lot more chill.

• It felt rushed, but of course it did, it’s 80 pages long. Still this did affect the satisfaction I got from it.

• Azula ought to have been more distressed when she found out that her friends left her given that that’s literally her biggest wound. However I also kind of like that she wasn’t, especially at the end, because it hints that she’s getting tired of the whole friendship through manipulation thing.

• I wish Azula had gotten to talk to the spirit in its monk form a little bit; we could’ve had an Iroh moment for her which would’ve been cool to see.

• In general Azula’s character has really been through the ringer so it’s hard to get anything good out of it, but again I’m impressed at what Hicks has been able to pull off. Still, it felt kind of unsatisfying that at the end of the comic Azula said that she would “find new followers, a new place to rule,” which is like, oh okay, so you kinda haven’t really learned anything? It would be nice to at least get a bit of an idea that she’s on a path towards redemption and healing.

Again, overall, 7.5/10, I really enjoyed this, honestly. There were some parts that made me roll my eyes but ultimately I was surprised at the amount of kindness given to Azula (not a lot, but more than usual). I’m thankful to Faith Erin Hicks & the rest of her team for doing the best they can with our girl. I hope this means she’ll get more good content in the future.

[grievedeeply]

Maybe a Glenn x reader fic where they reunite after the fall of the prison? The desperate holy shit you’re alive fluff

he had to be.

pairing: glenn rhee x gn!reader

summary: you make a beeline for terminus after the fall of the prison, determined to prove your worries about your husband's fate wrong.

notes: pre-established relationship, you don't take maggie's place— she exists in this, but isn't with glenn. this is on the shorter side, but i didn't want to drag it out too much with stuff we've already seen lol

you had lost count of how long it had been since the prison fell. all you could remember was losing track of everyone around you— their terrified faces as walkers and humans alike fled into the perimeter you had fought so hard to protect. you remembered hershel, maggie's father, the smile on his lips before he died.

you hadn't slept in days. even though sasha and bob had set up tents and traps for the walkers, you would lie down, unable to fall asleep. your thoughts were plagued with glenn's fate. what happened to him? he had to be alive. you sent him on the bus.. the bus was filled with walkers, but he wasn't one of them. he escaped. he was out there somewhere, and all you had to do was find him.

"there's a high probability of glenn being dead." you remembered sasha saying one night while she thought you were asleep. you couldn't hear bob's response. all you could picture was him. his eyes, his face. he was alive somewhere. he had to be. he was strong, smart.. braver than anyone you ever knew.

the feeling of your bag slipping down your shoulder brought you out of your mind. you hastily pulled it back up, lips pressed into a thin line as you watched the treeline. you glanced over your shoulder at bob and sasha, who both looked at you with pity in their eyes. they'd given up on glenn. you wouldn't. you couldn't.

you kicked at the rocks as you walked along the train tracks. you'd finally convinced them to go to terminus. it had taken days for sasha to give into the idea, but bob had been more lenient with your wishes. all you wanted was to know if he was alive.

you paused in front of another map, telling you that you were heading in the right direction. you swallowed. he knew that if you were going anywhere, it would be there. you thought of him, rick, michonne, maggie— everyone you cared about. you had to see them again. you had to.

from your peripheral, you saw the form of a walker coming towards you. sasha pulled out her weapon, "no," you said. "i have an idea." you said, taking out your knife. with a few large strides, you were able to reach it's head. a quick motion, and it was on the ground. you let out a sigh. that would always be scary. things could go so wrong so fast.

you kneeled down next to it, plunging your knife into it's chest and cutting down into it's stomach. it was gross, but you've seen worse living through an apocalypse. you coated your hand with it, and approached the wall that led into a nearby tunnel. you hoped he would come this way. you wished you could know, but this was better than nothing.

"glenn. come to terminus. y/n."

you took a step back, looking up at your messy writing.

god, you missed him.

"come on." you spoke up after a moment, nodding your head in the direction of the tunnel. you were going to terminus. you would meet him there, anywhere. you had to.

you wrote those same words on nearly every wall for miles. you still had a ways to go to terminus, but you were determined. you wouldn't give up on him. he was brave. he was beautiful.. oh, so beautiful. inside and out.

sasha and bob continued to trail behind you. they had shared a kiss, and you could tell that they weren't too sure what to call their relationship. it reminded you of when you had first kissed glenn. it was awkward, but peaceful. he was gentle. he always had been, even in his demeanor. it was one of the many things you loved about him.

you had never lost energy, motivated by the thought of seeing him again. you found it in you to sleep. it was the only time you were able to calm your mind, and sasha had insisted on it. over the past few days, she'd opened her mind to the possibility of glenn being alive. you weren't too sure what had changed within her, but you were glad she was thinking more positively.

"hey!" you heard the sound of an unfamiliar voice in front of you, and you aimed your gun in their direction. when your eyes focused, you saw the silhouettes of three people. a woman, and two men. "what do you want?" you called back to them, the grip on your weapon tightening. you didn't want to die. you couldn't.

"are you y/n?" you heard the same voice reply. a man's. you could see his red hair even through the bright light from the sun that fell into your vision. "who's asking?" sasha replied, voice cold and calculating.

"glenn's asking." a different voice said, the other man. he sounded considerably more monotonous than the one who'd spoke before. "glenn?" your voice softened at the mention of his name, before you refocused. these people could lie. they could've seen your messages on the tracks.

you heard the woman sigh from where she sat in the driver's seat of the military grade vehicle. "are you y/n or not? you look an awful lot like the picture."

the.. picture?

"yes. yes- i'm.. i'm y/n."

"glenn's looking for you. real desperate to find you." the woman said. "he's.. my husband. is he okay? where is he?" you replied, your voice becoming more desperate for information. "he's okay, last we saw of him. he went through a tunnel filled with walkers lookin' for ya." the redhead said.

you swallowed.

"get in already. all of ya."

you didn't hesitate, and climbed into the nearest seat. when you got into the vehicle, you were able to see your new companions clearly. you sat next to the redhead, whose mustache matched his hair and, somehow, his personality. he greeted you with a friendly smile, and a firm handshake. "i'm abraham ford. our driver here is rosita espinosa, dr. eugene porter, in the passenger."

"it's great to meet you. thank you. really." you smiled back, taking his hand before glancing back at bob and sasha, who hung onto the sides of the vehicle.

rosita put it in drive, and your throat tightened.

most of the ride was completely silent on your part, only speaking when someone spoke to you first. abraham asked you a few things about glenn, telling you that he spoke very highly of you and he seemed incredibly dedicated to finding you again. your face flushed at the thought. he was always going to put other people before himself.

"we're here." rosita told you, and you opened the door and rushed towards the tunnel. your heart pounded against your chest, you lifted your flashlight and ran in— the rest of the group following closely behind you.

the familiar sound of walkers growling filled your ears and you couldn't help but to think you were too late. as you approached, your breathing became heavier.

"duck!" abraham's voice called out from the noise, and he began firing his gun soon afterwards. you followed quickly after. he had to have seen glenn. as things calmed down, rosita and sasha began to pick off the ones the gunshots missed, and you looked around at your surroundings with a heavy heart.

"y/n?"

you turned your head, and let out a sigh of relief as you rushed toward him. "oh, glenn— baby." you whispered into his ear as his arms wrapped around you. your fingers tangled into his hair as you kissed at his jawline. "i missed you so much." he said, his voice quiet enough for only you to hear.

"missed you too. so so much." you pulled away from the hug to look into his eyes. he was covered in blood, but so were you. it didn't matter. you had him. you glanced over his shoulder at the woman he'd been shielding, and you smiled over at her.

"oh," glenn laughed, "tara, this is y/n. y/n, tara. she saved my life."

without hearing another word, you stepped forwards and brought her into a hug. "thank you." you chuckled. your eyes welling up with tears. there were still good people out there. she was only proving it. she said nothing for a few moments, "you don't have to thank me."

"you helped bring him back to me. thank you."

she pursed her lips, but smiled. "you're welcome." she turned on her heel, leaving the two of you alone again.

"they.. said you had the picture."

glenn's hand reached into his pocket, and he nodded. "it's the only picture i have of you." you couldn't help but to laugh, and you took his hands in yours. "let's burn it."

"what?"

"you won't need it anymore. we won't be apart again." you told him, an unmatched confidence in your voice. you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. you lifted your hands to his face, thumbs gently running over his skin.

he smiled, gaze soft as he stared into your eyes. "yeah, okay, sweetheart."

without another word, he pulled you back into his arms, pressing his lips to the side of your head.

he wouldn't need it anymore.

tags: @spaghettto @kitkatscabinet @luna-charlie @hayleethefrog | join my taglist!

[boogiewoogieweeb]

11, 16, 65 🪽

hi curry! 🤗🤗🤗 thank you so much for the ask - it's always a pleasure to see you on my dash or in my notifs! (and congrats on FINALLY getting the nedward shirt🥳 i can't think of anyone more deserving after having to endure such long waiting times trials and tribulations!)

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

oh, now this is a difficult one, because how on earth do i link only three??? tell you what; i'll compromise, and we'll do five, okay? okay. and because i know you're a fellow joplittle afficionado, i'm listing five of my faves for our mutual otp (unranked and in no particular order):

To Guide His Banners by mia_ugly

quiet hours by MyresLight (aka the inestimable and my dearly beloved @maedhrus)

the comforts of home by hazelmotes

i've become the person who says darling by vegetas

ringing in your ears by @manicpixiedreamjop (hi gus! plugging your latest fic because i simply can't shut up about it!)

five, as i said; though i have so, so many more i wish i could share. and just so you know, having to choose these five alone was already an unbearably cruel, nigh herculean task 😩

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

a better question would probably be "do you ever stop nurturing fic ideas?" 😂 at any given moment, there are at least ten fic ideas rattling around in the lobster pot i call a brain, most of them half-baked and vaguely formed; some of them with some actual substance and merit to them.

lately, i've been overtaken by a nefarious subset of particularly horny thoughts regarding a certain first lieutenant from a doomed arctic expedition and all the various ways in which his anger and frustration at his captain's questionable leadership might manifest... which i wholeheartedly blame on matthew mcnulty's line delivery of, "you were told not to speculate", along with that delicious little lip-curling sneer he does when he says it.

granted, it's not really sharing an idea so much as it is Thirsting After That Middle-Aged Man™, but i figured if anyone would understand, it would be you, curry ❤️

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

as everyone and their mums probably knows by now, i'm currently busy with several wips. but the ones i'm most proud of and probably the most eager to finish are my terror lieuts vampire hunters/dhampir!jops au, and the sequel to two cupped hands; both of which are sitting at about 35% completion rate. unfortunately, i haven't had much motivation to write lately, and so the actual completion of said wips remains a sisyphean task at present. that being said, i'm nothing if not stubborn, so if it takes me ten more years to publish either of those wips, so be it. i know they'll find their audience regardless of how much time passes 😁

aaand that's it! once again, thank you curry for a wonderful set of questions - i had an absolute blast answering them, and i hope you have just as much fun reading my answers! ily!

[tonberry-yoda]

You know I had to slide in here when the requests are open but congrats again on the 400 u have worked hard and earned it as ur writing is top tier and I can't wait to see the book that ur working on and I wish u lots of motivation , anyways on to my request I was wondering if u could write a (ofcourse) kakyoin x reader caught making out cause omfg I am a huge sucker for those kind of fics they have me kicking my feet and giggling all the time -♡

OMG HI!!! literally this is crazy because you send this to me right when i hit 400 and now im closer to 600?!?!?! like how crazy is that?? your kind words mean so so much to me always and a little update on the book, im hoping to finish it this year!!! no revisions or editing, just get the damn thing done so i can do the hard part! thank you again for all of the kind words and for being so so amazing. i hope you have a wonderful rest of your week and happy new year!! this is my first fic of 2023!!! <333

Caught - Noriaki Kakyoin

Pairing - Kakyoin x reader

Warnings - kakyoin being hot and cute <3

Word Count - 364

“Whoops,” Kakyoin giggled, “accidently” falling on top of you and pinning your arms to the couch. “My bad. I suppose I fell.”

You laughed as Kakyoin placed kisses up and down your neck, your hands gripping tighter to his.

“K-Kakyoin,” you laughed harder, trying to squirm out of the hold he had you in. “Noriaki, that tickles!!!” You accidentally kneed him in the gut, making him topple over in pain. “Oh, shit! Nori, are you okay?” You lifted his chin to find him smiling with tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“I'm fine, y/n. You’re just so…” his voice fell to a purr next to your ear. “So strong.”

You blushed and jokingly pushed him away from you, but he just pulled you back and on top of him, holding you by the hips. “My… you look pretty up there.”

“Stop it, Nori. My face is already red enough, it doesn't need anymore.”

“I love you.” His voice was soft and sincere. God you loved him.

“I love you too.”

Kakyoin brought you down and your lips brushed against his. He pulled you closer somehow, his lips just on yours. His tongue slid into your mouth, making you shudder and he smiled into the kiss, holding the small of your back. You grabbed his hair and pulled him deeper into the kiss.

That’s when you both heard it, freezing, your lips on his lips.

Shit.

You looked up and saw the whole rest of the Stardust Crusaders giggling at you. You quickly pushed yourself off of Kakyoin and fell onto the floor. You moved your hair out of your eye, now heavy breathing.

“Shit. How long have you guys been here?”

Polnareff was the first to speak up after lifting his eyebrows at the two of you. “We just got here, don't worry.”

Joseph laughed and patted Polnareff on the back. “You two can get back to your little makeout session, but we leave in five minutes, so make it snappy.”

Sometimes there were downsides about traveling with friends.

You looked at Kakyoin, who smiled and helped you off the ground.

But most of the time, there were a lot of upsides.

~~~~~

jjba masterlist (2) --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

[unecoccinellenoire]

i wish you would write a fic where … hesperia is flirting with our nathalie. she’s cool with it.

It happens in a matter of seconds. One moment she’s talking to a despondent Adrien on the sofa trying to coax out how exactly he got back to Paris from the train while the television drones on about Monarch and the next an explosion shatters the window.

Bomb, her mind screams at her.

Nathalie throws herself over Adrien instinctively, but her prostheses weigh her down and throw her off balance and when she lands it’s against the sofa without her charge in sight. And then a body lands against hers and panic that Adrien would try to protect her shoots down her spine before she belatedly registers she’s being shielded by someone larger than her not smaller.

As her saviour gently lifts her she relaxes against his purple suit, and lets her eyes rest for a second against the bright light as she inhales that soothing masculine scent of his. She might despise Gabriel right now, she might know that any safety he appears to offer is an illusion, but that doesn’t mean that illusion isn’t working for her right now.

“It’s alright madame,” he promises in a soft baritone that-

-that isn’t Monarch’s booming tones.

She opens her eyes. This isn’t Gabriel. He’d never wear just the Butterfly Miraculous when he has the rest of them, and even if he did this isn’t Hawk Moth. The mask only covers part of his place and his fair hair hangs freely over it.

Her brain buzzes in confusion. Or maybe that’s her ears ringing from the explosion. Either way she’s too out of it to come up with anything more sensible than, “safe?”

His eyes are kind but something sparks in them as he smiles. It looks familiar. It looks like how Gabriel had used to smile at Emilie before unleashing some phrase he thought was exceedingly charming.

“A place like this isn’t a good place for a pretty lady like you,” he says, “much as it’d be a pleasure to keep rescuing you I wouldn’t be much of a hero if I left you in danger like that.”

An embarrassing warmth spreads below her stomach. Flirtation isn’t wholly unfamiliar to Nathalie, for all that she’s buried in an industry where beauty is the currency and she hardly draws attention. But usually the flirtation comes loaded with ulterior motives from people who know who she is.

Then again. This man has apparently stolen the Butterfly Miraculous from Gabriel. No doubt he does know who she is and he does have ulterior motives.

She needs to get it together.

“A pleasure, Isn’t that a bit forward? I don’t even know your name.”

“Hesperia, my lady.” He looks like he’d tip a hat to her if he had one, “and yours? Is it worthy of you?”

“I don’t know about worthy. I’m Nathalie.”

“That’s a beautiful name. Like you. But I really should get you somewhere safe- I don’t like the sound of this Monarch character.”

“Monarch?” She traces the Miraculous on his chest, “didn’t you take this from him?”

“I’m sorry to dash your hopes. This isn’t my universe my dear.”

“Oh.” She studies his face, that tanned skin, those eyes, those cheekbones. “And you’re- a hero?”

She tries to imagine it. Gabriel, a hero and not a villain. Flirting with her rather than eternally loyal to Emilie. She can’t hold the image in her mind. It seems too impossible. And yet the man in front of her clearly exists, clear is a possibility.

“I try my best.” He says, still smiling.

She raises an eyebrow. “When you’re not flirting with random woman?”

Though maybe being easily distracted is a trait it’s easier to reconcile with her Gabriel. The real Gabriel. Because this man is probably someone completely different in his universe.

“Well-“

“Or am I not random? Do you know me back home?” She interrupts. If Gabriel could be a hero, could have moved on from Emilie then maybe-

“I’m afraid not. A loss I assure you. Now, I found you in Gabriel Agreste’s home. Does he have a panic room? A bomb shelter? Somewhere I can stow you safely.”

Her heart fell into her stomach. Of course he didn’t know her. Of course she was just a random distraction to him. How could she be so stupid that Gabriel still had this grip on her even as he cared more about defeating a teenager than he did about her life?

“If he did it wouldn’t be for me,” her tone was as sour as the bile in her throat. It wasn’t quite true. Gabriel had never changed the code to where Emilie lay. She could hide down there. Only she didn’t care not, “Gabriel wouldn’t care if I died.”

He’d as good as told her that. Told her that it wasn’t about Emilie anymore either.

“Nathalie, I’m sure-“

But she can’t bear to hear such reassurances from him. Screw it, she decides, and drags him down by his lapels and stops him with her mouth on his.

He’ll probably drop her and leave her here, or stop her and lecture her about the morality of kissing people without asking first. She doesn’t care right now. She needs him to stop. And she needs to indulge in the pretence offered by his flirtation. That someone could want her, love her.

She wants to kiss someone before she dies.

And she’s dying sooner rather than later.

Hesperia gasps against her. He doesn’t do any of those things she’s expected. He lets her tongue into his mouth, and he’s warm and wet and perfect and he tastes a little like Gabriel’s favourite coffee.

Nathalie is the one to stop, as another crash shakes the roof they’re on.

“You should go.” She says, “put me down somewhere on the streets. I’ll be fine. We’re used to akuma attacks here. And- sorry.”

Those infuriating eyes are all pity, “I think you needed that. I am sorry Nathalie. That you have to live through these, akuma did you call it? Attacks. For whatever this Gabriel Agreste has done to you. And that I can’t see you again. But I have-“

“Your own universe to get back to. I get it. And you wouldn’t like me if you knew me anyway.” He’s a hero after all. Nathalie is the opposite of that. “And I’ll probably already be dead by any time you might come back to this universe.”

His eyebrows drew together, the corners of his mouth drooped down, “I don’t know you Nathalie. But I can tell you that you deserved better.”

“I don’t.” She has no illusions about that. She brought this on herself when Emilie had asked them to let her go. She hadn’t even managed to succeed in saving her. And she’d failed completely to care for Adrien, and perhaps even Gabriel like she’d asked her to. “You should go.”

“Alright,” he jumped down to street level with her still cradled in his arms and then gently deposited her down on the ground, “but Nathalie, do something for me?”

“What?” What could she possibly do for him?

“Don’t lose hope.”

She’d lost that already, had lost it the moment Gabriel had admitted to not just giving his past self the USB she’d meticulously prepared.

The one she’d given him knowing it would save her and Emilie at the cost of the friendship between them because had Emilie never fallen sick they would have continued that relationship of just messages on birthdays and at Christmas that they’d had after Tibet.

Only to discover Gabriel wasn’t even willing to sacrifice his pride.

But looking at Hesperia she finds she didn’t have the cruelty to crush him with that reality. Maybe that means he isn’t Gabriel.

She sighs, “I’ll try.”

And as she watches him leap away she thinks that maybe that wasn’t entirely a lie. That maybe she has no hope for her but herself but she can hope for the Nathalie of that world, that she’s happy and will be loved back. Can hope that the heroes here will beat Gabriel and somehow Adrien can be protected through all of it. Can hope she can do enough to ensure he’s safe.

[neptunes-curse]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Neteyam fic where the reader is from another clan (not omaticaya or metkayina) seeking refuge with the metkayina and they start to crush on each other and confess or something. The end can be up to you❣️

Secret Feelings

You were finding it hard to settle into the Metkayina Clan, but when some more newcomers came in seek of refuge you found it a little easier.

pairings: fem!reader x neteyam

warnings: brief mentions of fire and death

authors note: every couple business days i decide i want to start writing again and today is one of them. thank you so much for the request! it does so much for my writers block and motivation.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Leaving your clan in the forest was terrible. You can still remember it all so clearly. The sky people coming in and taking everything over, destroying your home and all the people in it. You watched as the evil sky people came in with their helicopters and planes. They burned down every thing that you used to call home. You couldn’t bear to watch it anymore, so, you hopped on your ikran and flew. You didn’t know how long you flew for, or how far.

You were numb, leaving everything you had ever known. Your family, your friends, everything taken from you by the cruel humans. They couldn’t take care of their home, so they were coming to yours and ruining it aswell. You flew for many days and nights before stumbling upon the Metkayina clan finally. You slowly landed your ikran on the rocks as some native Na’vi approached you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

That was around two months ago, and now you had settled into Metkayina life slowly but surely. You were living with one of the kind families in the village. You had even made some friends. Tsireya, Aonung, and Rotxo had become your acquaintances, not without some teasing at first, though. They made fun of your skinny tail and arms and also your dark blue complexion. You had kept reminding them that you were from a different area then them, but Aonung and Rotxo were not having it. You felt kindove like an outsider, but that was until the family of Toruk Makto came to find refuge with the Metkayina aswell.

You decided to meet the family, as they were from a similar area to you and they could probably relate to your experiences. You helped them learn everything they needed to know, from riding the ilus to breathing longer underwater. You started spending more and more time with the Sully family, you felt comfort with them. Especially the eldest son, Neyetam.

He was protective over his siblings, something that made him stand out to you. He was kind and gentle, but also brave. It was no wonder you found yourself developing a crush on him. The two of you would go in walks on the beach, and talk about anything that crossed your minds. From heaveir topics to more trivial things, you agreed on almost every topic you discussed. He was funny, too. He made you laugh and smile. Something you hadn’t been able to do in a long time since leaving your clan.

One specific time, you and Neyetam came back from the beach and met Lo’ak and Kiri next to the pods. They were laughing about something, but you couldn’t tell what. “Hey guys, what’s so funny?” Neteyam questioned when you reached the pair. “Oh, nothing just talking about how in looooooove you are with y/n.” Lo’ak responded to Neteyam in a sarcastic tone. You immediately looked down, your skin flushing a light color. Neteyam saw your face, and he couldn’t help blushing aswell. Kiri was stifling her giggles, but you could tell she thought it was hilarious. “Stop it, you two. We’re just-“ You stopped in the middle of your words to glance at Neteyam. “Just friends. Nothing else.” You wished you could tell the truth and tell Neteyam you liked him. But he was too good of a friend to lose.

Lo’ak rolled his eyes and stood up, not believing any of it. “Tell me when you two finally get together.” Kiri followed, and she gave you a apologetic look as she walked away. “I’m sorry about them.” Neteyam said while still looking down. You lightly touched your hand to his jaw to get him to look at you. “It’s okay, ‘Teyam. I know they mean well.” You smiled at him and he smiled back. God, he had a beautiful smile. If only you could tell him that.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Another three weeks passed, and you felt your love for Neteyam grow. You found beauty in everything he did, from the way he walked to the way he talked. If only you knew he felt the same way towards you. One day, you were out late harvesting fruit for the clan when you felt two large hands cover his eyes. You gasped loudly and began to scramble, not knowing who the hands belonged to. “Hey, It’s only me.” You relaxed when you heard Neteyam’s voice. His hands traveled to your waist and he turned you around so you were facing him. You immediately sucked in a breathe, shocked by the presence of his cold hands on your skin.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckled. You smiled, shaking your head. “I wasn’t scared, just shocked.” Your bodies were still painfully close. I’d not for the fruit basket leaning on your hip, you could probably touch fully. Oh how you wished that stupid fruit basket wasn’t there. Neither of you said anything, and you listened to his breathes. Deep and sudden. You swear you could hear his heartbeat, too. “Can I ask you something, y/n?” He suddenly asked. You nodded, curious as to what he was going to say.

“When my siblings were teasing us, did you mean that? That we were just friends?” Nothing could have prepared you for that. You wanted to answer truthfully, but your brain knew to protect itself. What if he rejected you? It would never be the same that way. But you were never one to trust your brain.

“No…no, I didn’t mean it.” You looked down shyly. You were terrified for his reaction. This could all be over in a minute. Or, he could say he likes you too. But that’s unlikely, right? You shut your eyes nervously waiting for him to say something. “Good. Because I think I like you Y/n. A lot.” You found the confidence to look up at him and smile. “Well I like you a lot to, ‘Teyam” The secret was out. And he liked you too. You were overjoyed, you were smiling so big you thought your body was glowing.

He used his finger to lift you face up slowly. His eyes were darting between your lips and back to your eyes. You were frozen in place, staring at him. At his eyes. His hair. The little freckles that dotted his face. Everything about him was beautiful. He was beautiful. And just like that, he closed the gap between the two of you. The kiss was light, delicate, and everything you expected it to be.

[ofmermaidstories]

1. Not really....? It's hard to figure out my actual thoughts on it but I guess, Self-inserting for me feels like it's designed for one person in mind (whoever is being inserted) when x reader can be anyone? And from what I've seen, the content is a bit different.

2. Probably? Definitely. But will I be the person criticizing it? No... I'm not really the type to be vocal about my grievances outside of the occasional personal aside. I usually just don't trust what I have to say is constructive. But I do love hearing what other people have to say.

3. Everything

Jkjk, um.... I'd say my motivation and writing style? (That doesn't fall under everything, right?) I just don't write very effectively. Like- I have a story in my head, but actually putting it down in writing, I kinda just wing it? Like write as I go. Which is fun for developing character lore, or short stories. It leads to a lot of stop and go with longer works, and the problem with that is that it looks clunky! If I'm an a completely different state of my mind than I was when I started a piece the words I put down don't really flow well with what came before. So I have to read and reread what's already been written and play mediator by finding a way to transition from one feeling to the next.

I mostly write for friends or for fun, though, so it's forgivable.

the content being different for self-inserting vs x reader is such an important distinction!! like. also in how you engage with it, too? like—i’m always interested in self-shippy stuff from a, best friend at brunch kinda way, you know? like “YESSSS tell me more, omg, you guys are sooo cute together 🥹” whereas if someone is like, bits&pieceing about an idea for a x reader setup, i’m engaging with it as a reader, like, oh, i am interested in whatever this this piece or fic is trying to lure us in with.

i keep running into i guess… fan-only spaces, for varying Big Fics? and they’re always so interesting to scroll through, because it’s just either people gushing about Said Fic, or like, recommending similar ones, OR it’s someone starting a conversation (a tiktok is the example i’m thinking of) being like, “deku wouldn’t wear fishnets” and then like, everyone who’s had similar grievances just like, jumping in LOL. none of it—the universal loving and the dismissal—is like.. in any way truly critical? it’s just people who’ve found each other agreeing over varying things. true constructive criticism (at least in fanfics) is hard… because you do have to seperate yourself from, “is this just not for me” vs. “i see and understand where this story is trying to land, but i don’t think it makes it” and even then you kinda have to… justify it, you know? like, is it not landing because it’s missed the mark, or do you just wish it did something different? and what i like about fanfic is that we (ideally) afford each other the—generosity of forgiving things, LOL. and i guesssss my original question is more… does becoming a mega, fandom-defining fic mean the fic then loses the privilege of that generosity? i think it must create a distance between it and the fandom it’s from, in a way… it sort of takes on the same… almost for-granted quality we might have with a published book? are we removing ourselves from it, by holding it up? HMMM. questions questions ig LOL.

with no. 3—flow is hard!!! 🥺 do you have any like, rituals or anything to get yourself back into the mindset you had, before picking up the piece again? if i leave off in the middle of a scene or whatever that needs to stick to a specific mood i listen to my playlist for the fic, or whatever. 🥹 it kinda helps to limber everything back up again. but—i mean!!! as long as you have fun with it, in the end. 🥺 the process of writing takes up so much time… we need to enjoy it, in some small way. especially if the end result is for friends and fun. 🥹

[13tinysocks]

hey dude! What's up :)) been just a little since l've said something

Initially, this is me saying thank you and goodbye

This isn't supposed to be a weird pity story, so l'm so unbelievably sorry if it comes off that way, lol.

When I began reading your work, I was enamoured with fiction because of personal issues (as many usually are, honestly, I know I'm one of god knows how many people trying to run away from life for just a second with fanfics or media in general). I don't know if I will ever be able to communicate this properly, hell, this will even be unbelievable funny or dramatic but I need to get this across because it's coming from a genuine place. Your stories and work thus far has brought me comfort, immense heaps of it, and even still when I deal with things that feel out of reach or too much to actually face head on I find myself wandering back to syg or just your blog in general

I mean this, from my entire heart, thank you and thank Bee. A million times thank you, for making that one silly silly stupid piece of fanfiction, because oh my god it got me through some major stressful hardships within my life for the past 3 years.

I am leaving tumblr, however I’m aware I have submitted asks with my actual accounts before, so you'll likely be able to see they're still gonna be up. I'm just deleting tumblr the app instead of my account, but for other social platforms they will be deleted properly (such as quotev) so I won’t be indulging in much reading anymore when it comes to fanfics and such lol

I don't know if I'll come back, if I do I likely will not be back for long or to be as active as l've been because of the toll social media’s taken. So even as ridiculous as this feels, to tell someone I’m simply a fan of and barely truly know, that their fanfic of murderers and their love story with my self insert kept me pushing through a lot of tough days, I genuinely just had to.

I needed to thank both you and your partner for the work you've both put out. I still have that smiley pin I’d made, and I will cherish what you made quotev have been for me ( I literally found out about the website during early or late 2020 I can barely remember, then later found your fic, I was DEEP DIVING into that shit LMAO )

I hope whatever happens for you and bee in the future is only good, and I only will wish nothing but the best of luck with everything man.

feel free to post this (idk what it’s called but when you publicly reply lol) or not, as long as you read this it’ll mean lots to me !! >:))

your coolest weirdest ticci toby fan whose also named toby, 🐚 annon

I always struggle to convey gratefulness for messages like this and readership- especially repeated readership. My life would be different if it were not for comments and messages egging us on to keep writing from syg to ho1c. While it's easy to say that writing is solely out of passion for the craft there is also the drive to share something with others. Hearing those others loud or quiet as a favorite- does push us forward when we have no motivation or desire to work. That drive has made us closer as a couple, better thinkers, and a halfway decent writing team. I thank you and all the others who send us stuff even if it's shit post asks I never answer because I like having them in my inbox like a personal horde of platonic Valentine's. I like keeping the pieces you give me to myself sometimes. I know it may seem like I'm ignoring you but I find genuine comfort in these messages. That there are so many. That they are so varied. That we have reached beyond our shut-in existence to touch the lives of others.

I find myself wondering where an anon has gone when I do not hear from them in awhile. I wish them well. I wish them better standards than us.

Maybe we'll meet again someday space cowboy. If you're ever back in town feel free to shoot me (a message).

Thank you for reaching out. Thank you for reading. I wish you peace and love and good books.