#the world would have simply been better without her in it <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[beloveds-embrace]

Human!Reader being traded to Fae!Price to keep the peace. Like I heard once in ancient China, actual royal daughters wouldn't be married off, other girls would be married in their place, so maybe reader's parents volunteered her to be married instead of the king's beloved daughter?

see you perfectly get me 😩😩 i hope you don’t mind me using this as a chance to yap <3

Masterlist

The fae had no love for you.

You had known this from the moment you stepped into the obsidian palace, its towering spires slicing through the mist-laden sky like blades. You had been dressed in human silks then- pale, delicate, and utterly wrong in a court where darkness was beauty, where even the air shimmered with otherworldly grace. The moment you crossed the threshold, every gaze in the room had cut into you, assessing and dismissing in the same breath because not a single one of them wanted a human amongst them- least of all as their queen.

The words had not been spoken aloud, but you had felt them all the same, woven into the murmurs that rippled through the court. They had expected the human king’s beloved daughter (even if they would have hated her all the same), a princess groomed for diplomacy, raised in luxury. Instead, they had been given you- the daughter of an unimportant noble, a substitute barely trained in courtly graces but more than capable with ink and parchment, a woman who had spent years buried under the work the princess refused to do.

They had not wanted you.

And neither, it seemed, had your husbands.

King John Price, your husband, had barely acknowledged you beyond what duty required. He had spoken the vows in the old tongue, words and sounds you could never hope to replicate with a human tongue, and sealed the marriage with a kiss so fleeting it barely brushed your lips, then turned away to his own husbands- also yours, but they weren’t kings, so no kiss was required between you and them.

(The concept was still so strange to you. Humans practiced monogamy at the very least, in public- yet you had learned fae cared very little for such things.)

They were his advisors; Johnny, Simon, Kyle, and they were no different. They were powerful men, sharp as the wind over the mountains, and just as untouchable.

You were an outsider, a human intruder in a world where every glance from you was considered an insult, every word a nuisance.

They did not mistreat you, no. They simply ignored you, and you told yourself that it was worlds better than being hurt anyways… even if the loneliness hurt.

And so you threw yourself into the work. The human princess had forced all her duties on you for years, and it was no different here- except now it was fae treaties, fae disputes, fae taxes, all of which they happily let you drown in. You handled it all without complaint. The paperwork was easier to deal with than the loneliness. And if they noticed the way you handled the endless the endless paperwork that the court so conveniently let pile up on your desk, they gave no indication.

You were a human among fae. And in their eyes, that made you insignificant.

Your days blurred together in a haze of ink-stained fingers and stiff-backed chairs, the weight of the crown heavier than you had ever imagined. It might have continued that way- silent, distant, suffocating- if not for the day the Queen Mother descended upon you.

She despised humans. You could see it in the way she sneered at you, the way she spoke as if addressing something beneath her. But she was old, cunning, and- unlike her son- unwilling to let a political marriage go to waste. She had entered your chambers one evening without announcement, her presence crackling in the air like a brewing storm.

For a long moment, she had said nothing. And then:

"You look human."

You had stiffened at her tone. It was not a compliment.

"That is your first mistake."

She had circled you then, her gaze stripping you bare. "The court despises you. My son ignores you, as do his husbands- they do not even see you. Why?"

You had swallowed, resisting the urge to drop your gaze. "… Because I am human."

A flicker of a smile, cold and knowing. "No, child. Because you make no effort to be anything else. You are no longer within humans.”

That night, your wardrobe was stripped away- every pale gown, every soft fabric, every piece of jewelry that marked you as human. In their place, the Queen Mother had garments brought in that dripped with fae elegance.

Your dresses were no longer delicate, but sharp—cut to flatter the lines of your body, corseted to perfection, woven with fabrics darker than midnight and embroidered with silver-threaded fae flowers that shimmered when they caught the light. Your silks no longer billowed, but clung, whispering around you like shadows given form.

Your jewelry transformed you further. Earrings that mimicked the elongated points of fae ears, tapering into elegant curves. Rings shaped into sharp, clawed talons that gleamed when your fingers moved. Tiaras twisted into the illusion of horns, their dark metal twining like the antlers of the fae lords. Even your hair was adorned with woven fae flora, petals shifting as though alive.

When you stepped before the mirror, you barely recognized yourself.

You were still human. But you no longer looked like prey.

The court noticed first. The whispered mockery did not cease, but it changed- less scornful, more wary. Some sneered that you were playing dress-up, but others looked twice, their gazes lingering in ways they never had before.

Your husbands were slower to react, but when they did, it was irreversible. It was the point of no return- even if you did not know it at the time. Did not once suspect this had been the Queen Mother’s plan from the start.

Johnny cracked first.

One evening during another dinner where you were supposed to be ignored once more, as you reached for a goblet, he caught your hand- his calloused fingers brushing the rings now shaped like talons. His thumb grazed over the curved metal, blue eyes flicking up to yours with something thoughtful, something curious.

“…This suits you, lass."

A simple statement. But his touch lingered a moment longer than necessary. You did not allow yourself to think more of it, as he eventually turned away from you and returned to ignoring you.

Kyle was next. It was not the rings he noticed, but the way the darker fabrics shaped you, the way the fae silks whispered around your form when you moved. His sharp gaze assessed you, and when you met his eyes, he hummed- low and appreciative.

"Fascinating."

Simon was the hardest to read, but you caught the way his head tilted slightly when you walked past him, the way his gaze lingered on the flowers adorning you, unreadable but lingering. He did not speak on it. He never did speak to you, not eveb now. But he watched.

And for the first time since your marriage to John, he truly looked at you; not past you. Not through you. But at you.

The next time you stood before him, spine straight, chin lifted, cloaked in the elegance of the fae, John leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly. His eyes raked over you in quiet thoughts, but there was something different this time- something sharper, darker.

You had changed.

And the court had noticed.

He had seen the way the nobles looked at you now- the way their gazes lingered too long on the curve of your throat, the bare skin exposed by the daring cut of your gown. The way their admiration had shifted, no longer dismissive but hungry. Once, they had sneered at your presence, insulted by the mere thought of a human in their midst. Now, they sought your attention, vying for your favor with soft smiles and murmured compliments.

It soured something in him.

His fingers curled against the armrest of his throne, a slow, thoughtful movement. He knew he had no right to feel this way. He had ignored you first. Had dismissed you, had treated you as a necessity rather than a wife. And yet-

He did not like the way they looked at you.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the way the others reacted as well. Kyle’s jaw was tight, his gaze sharp whenever a noble leaned too close. Johnny had grown restless, the usual brightness in his eyes dimming whenever he caught another fae whispering to you, their voices dipped too low. And Simon was a shadow at the edge of the room, silent, unmoving, but his cold stare was a warning, his claws tapping idly against the hilt of the dagger at his belt.

They saw it, too.

You were theirs.

And now, far too many in this court seemed to be forgetting that.

John’s grip on the chair tightened before he forced himself to relax, schooling his expression back into something unreadable.

Well, he may have been a neglectful husband to you in the beginning… but no time better than the present to fix his mistake.

Part two

[semperamans]

hi! i have no clue what i'm doing here, but i've been so inspired by @harrysfolklore, so i decided to try my hand at smaus! i'm also so very new to the world of f1, so pretty please go easy on me <3

in my weird little noggin' - yn is a famous singer dating shawn mendes whom (spoiler) turns out to be a jerk and wittle baby oscar is in love and just wants a chance :'( let me know if you wanna see more <3

fc: gracie abrams

liked by piastrisbakery, teammclaren, landoe04, and others

piastriupdates oscar is never beating the fan boy allegations and we love to see it :')

view all 1,342 comments

sc4rlett_44 LANDOS FACE I CANNOT

↳ vroomvroombois he looks like spongebob after squidward ate the krabby patty 😭

↳ piastrisbakery you like yourusername, don't you oscarpisatri 😏

landoland A FEARLESS RESPONSE SOME MIGHT SAY FDHJFKSDHF

↳ newintown THE WAY YOU CAN TELL THAT'S NOT THE FIRST YN-RELATED PUN LANDO HAS EVER SAID TO HIM

↳ forever_mclaren omg PLEASE go watch the 'oscar being in love with yn for 15 minutes' video on youtube. you'll quickly find that lando is the captain of the yncar ship.

wrongagain osc is soooo cute!! but yn is never leaving shawn. they're too perfect for each other ❤️

↳ oscarsfearless89 idk... oscar talks more about yn than shawn does at this point...

liked by zendaya, oscarpiastri, shawnmendes, arianagrande and others

yourusername shawn peter raul, how i will forever love you :’) the sunshine on my darkest days. i simply don’t know what i would do without you. thank you for choosing me two years ago today <3

view all 1,112,210 comments

love4yn mom and dad mom and dad mom and dad mom and dad!!

↳ starryeyesandbutterflies i think your parents are getting divorced bc shawn didn't even post her :(

↳ ynlover111 SAYING YOUR PARENTS ARE GETTING DIVORCED IS SOOOOO CRAZY WHAT THE FUCKSJDF 😭

forever_yn i love when we get boyfriend pics of shawn but he never posts any cutie pics of our girl :(

timotheechalamet ew

↳ yourusername shouldn't you be clocking in at the chocolate factory right about now? 🤨

vroomvroombois PLEASE oscarpiastri not you liking this like you aren't WAITING for the day they break up 🧐

↳ f1fanatic81 osc would 100% treat yn better

↳ landoe04 i see what you did there...

camilaisqueen shawn and camila were cuter imo 🤷🏻‍♀️

↳ ynsgirly I SWEAR TO GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT KING CHARLES' DUSTY ASS WIFE

↳ speaknowstan arguably the better camila...

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

shawnmendes uploaded a story!

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mclaren posted a new video!

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

yourusername uploaded a story!

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

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liked by calilovesoscarp, sc4rlett_44, pitstoppiastri, landoe04, and others

oscarpiastriupdates these spot the difference games are becoming impossible.

view all 453 comments

foreverpiastri ive never seen him look so angry...

sc4rlett_44 the audacity of that interviewer 😬

↳ newintown wait, what happened?

↳ sc4rlett_44 during the pre-quali interviews, someone from press kept dropping shawn mendes song titles in their question and he was making it *really* obvious. Osc was pissed.

↳ vroomvroombois he turned into such a little diva. i love.

↳ piastriprincess no because if someone said "hey Oscar, i'm curious if you would be able to treat YN better than Shawn Mendes? i've heard you're a fan, so i figured you'd be left in stitches following the news. luckily there's nothing holding you back! hopefully YN will have some mercy on you!" i'd kill them

↳ ynoscarsunshine osc is such a gentleman though :( "you know those are actual people you're making a joke out of, right? someone in that situation has real, hurt feelings, and, to be honest, i'm unintrested in joking and capitalizing off someone's pain. next question."

shippingyncar the way he defends her </3 oscar > shawn no contest.

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liked by selenagomez, yourbrother, oscarpiastri, oliviarodrigo, and others

yourusername *taps mic* is this thing on?

well, hi there! i apologize profusely for my sudden absence, but your girl had to touch grass, pick up some new hobbies, catch up with old friends, and teach my nieces how to tell good apples from bad ones (a very important life lesson)! for complete transparency, i've had a really rough go of things lately. the heart was never meant to break with millions of eyeballs upon it, but mine did and boy did it suck. if you find yourself hurting now, please let me be your reminder that hard times *do* pass. things *will* get better. just give it some time.

i'll get off my soapbox! anyway, i am *so* excited to show you guys what i've been working on while cozied up on my parents' front porch swing watching spring roll in :') i'll being seeing you guys oh so soon 💚

view all 1,101,238 comments

drewbarrymore ❤️😘

inlovewithyn istg your instagram posts are like a kiss on the forehead

mclaren 🧡 if you're looking for a new hobby, watching F1 races is highly entertaining! ♥️ by author

↳ oscarpiastri this is true.

↳ landonorris can confirm.

↳ charlesleclerc can also confirm.

↳ lewishamilton 👆🏾

↳ maxverstappen fast cars are fun, yes.

↳ danielricciardo very fun indeed.

↳ scuderiaferrari ❤️🏎️

↳ bestofyn YN HAS THE WHOLE GRID IN HER COMMENTS I CANNOT WHAT IS HAPPENING

↳ boxboxbaby EVEN FERRARI IS HELPING OSCAR SHOOT HIS SHOT IFDSJFISL?!

arianagrande the vid u sent of your nieces singing defying gravity has been on repeat 💖

rarebeauty stunning ❤️

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liked by sainzsmiles, danielricciardo, landoe04, landonorris, and more

mclaren yo bro, who got you smiling like that? 🧡

we are smiling because bahrain is just five days away!

view all 13,210 comments

landonorris i know 😏

↳ oscarpiastri 🤨 mclaren i'd like to request a new teammate

↳ danielricciardo i also know 💁🏽‍♀️

↳ piastrisbakery danielricciardo WHY DID YOU USE THAT EMOJI??? I CANNOT

↳ danielricciardo because i am sassy 💁🏽‍♀️

↳ maxverstappen i know, too!

circuitcutie oh this is absolutely bc yn followed him back

↳ bigmclarenfan ?? can we focus on racing please??

↳ oscpresso no ❤️

↳ danielricciardo no 💁🏽‍♀️

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(part two)

[moon-ttokki-x]

Helloo

I'm here to ask something like a little too sad? I really like those scenarios. Like members reaction to 9th member's attempt to suicide? But like one of them(Minho or Jeongin) accidentally come to bathroom and see her? It's a little sad but I like those ones. Maybe even add a relationship between her and Chan?

hi~ i love sad requests . . . the sad ones are some of my favourites too, and hopefully this will help someone feel better <3

butterfly - (ot8!skz x 9th member fem!reader)

pairing: ot8!skz (mainly lee know) x 9th member fem!reader

summary: butterflies; the symbols of hope, growth, and recovery.

genre: idol! au, 9th member!au, fem!reader, su*cide attempt, graphic descriptions of self-h@rm, mentions of blood, cvtting, bandages, depression, alienation, mentions of blades, razors, sharp items, mentions of eating and drinking, mentions of fainting, passing out, blood loss, lee know referred to as 'minho' in this fic, bf!chan, please proceed with caution, and remember that you're not alone <3

a/n: this hit a little close to my heart, so i'm hoping this might help some of you who are struggling . in no way am i romanticising any of the heavy and triggering topics in this fic, so please skip if you are uncomfortable . my dms are always open if you'd like to talk . be safe, my loves <3

skz masterlist

The world is grey.

Greyer than you remembered; you thought you'd been getting better. You thought you'd learnt to feel the sunshine warming your skin again, remembered the way you found your mouth curving into a smile randomly. Embraced that familiar feeling of a happy buoyant bubble in your stomach.

Apparently not.

You're not sure how you feel right now. Distracted, angry, dull? Nothing seems to light you up, not even the deepest rage or the best news. Everything simply hit your crumbling shield and absorbed. Like pouring water on a sheet.

The patch simply darkened and sunk, drying but becoming more saturated with sadness every single time. And it felt heavy, heavier than you ever thought it would feel.

You can't taste the food on your plate; the noise of the members laughing and bickering around you seems to fade into the background, the soundwaves passing through as if you were simply a ghost.

A numb ghost sitting at the dinner table with a fork in one heavy hand, rather than a valued member of Stray Kids having dinner with the rest of her group. The atmosphere of the familiar dorm is foreign, unusual.

Like a hotel room rather than your home.

You scrunch your hands and rub your fingertips over your thighs, feeling the raised tissue of old scars bump in smooth, small dunes under the pads of your fingers. You feel the denim of your jeans rustle with the movement, the fabric rough and once-comforting. Now it just feels itchy.

Jisung shouts right in your ear then as he argues with Changbin across the table, and you don't even flinch. It simply passes over your head. Even if you wanted to, you can't find it in yourself to be annoyed at him. At least he's happy.

Is this normal? Am I overreacting?

Surely it can't be fake if you feel like this. But-

Your eyes lift themselves slowly and land on Chan. Previously, you couldn't look at him without a blush tinging your cheeks and the familiar view of a red rose in your mind's eye. The memory of his confession was always one that made you giggle, sometimes at inappropriate times.

Like when JYP fell over on stage and you were laughing because you remembered Chan doing the same thing, falling, and the image of his lovely face accompanied by his cheesy pick-up lines and warm hands came to mind.

But you don't feel like smiling now. Not like you did then.

You're both in the settling-in stage of your relationship; as always Chan has proven to be the best partner anyone could ever ask for. He's never let you down, carried you through the tough times, held your hand and wiped your tears. He knows how you've been feeling, but after a while, out of worry, you began to keep it secret.

And you felt bad. You did. Really.

Because he deserves to know. Deserves to know so that he can help you, kiss it better like he always has. Because that's just how he is, and how he's always been.

But he also deserves to be kept in the dark. Deserves to be able to continue with his life, be a leader and a producer and everything else without worrying that one day your feelings will take over and you'll disappear.

Because right now, that seems like the best option. Surely things will be easier for him, for all of them, if you took yourself out of the equation.

What would it feel like, you think. To drown, to accidentally slip and fall, to walk into the road without looking, to feel the chair leave the soles of your feet, to cut too deep on accident, it would all be an accident, Chan, it was an accident, I'm okay, I promise you'll be okay, everything is okay, I promise-

The fork clatters out of your hand. Nobody notices, the din of the members covering it up. Chan is almost on his feet opposite you, giggling and laughing and trying and failing to quiet the group. He doesn't notice when you begin to stand, then hesitantly sit back down.

None of them do.

It's not a secret that sometimes you need to be alone; the guys understand that you need time to yourself every now and then, when your head gets too loud or the members yell too much. All you have to do is stand up and leave, and go and lie down, tell them that's what you need right now.

Of course, that isn't always the case. Sometimes you just want to be alone, and not because they're being too loud or rowdy. You want to be alone because being around these happy people puts you in a state of disconnect so brutal and numbing that you can't stand to look any of them in the eye.

That's not what's happening right now. A mad impulse rises, a dangerous little thought pops into your head, and begins to simmer in a rather sinister manner in the back of your mind.

You swallow thickly. Your throat is dry. The now-flat soda you were previously sipping did nothing to quell the dryness. Your windpipe feels scratchy and your stomach bubbles in apprehensiveness, but you ignore it and steel yourself.

You turn your head to the left, feeling your neck creak; you've been still for so long- and look at Minho. He's grinning past you, watching as Changbin almost flies at Jisung over the table, clearly unaware of the hollowness rooted in your stomach, no, your whole being.

In every fibre of you-

"Minho," you say, hardly a whisper. His gaze meets yours, and even though he's still smiling and his gaze is not intense, joy dimmed faintly as he takes in your ghostly pallor- you still feel yourself shrink under it. Like an underwatered flower in the hot, baking sun.

"Yes?" He says. You feel Chan turn his head slightly in your direction, and your heart lurches unpleasantly. He's listening in, clearly in concern, but it makes you irritated. Unreasonably so.

"I'm gonna go lie down," you say, not acknowledging Chan as he fully turns to face both you and Minho, the chaos in the background forgotten.

Minho's eyes meet Chan, and his eyes gaze back, asking a silent question.

Is she okay?

Minho nods faintly and smiles at you, placing a warm hand over yours. You fight the urge to wince at the contact; it feels wrong, and all you want to do is shake it off. You exhale slightly as he removes his hand.

"Sure," Minho says gently. "Go ahead. I know we're being noisy."

You nod and force a weak smile before pushing your chair back. No one looks at you, save Chan stealing a glance as you stand up, but it feels like getting up in front of a crowd. You almost throw up over the table.

Excusing yourself from the group, you turn and leave the room. You trail a hand along the wall of the corridor, your knees strangely aching as you take the stairs upwards. Guilt and a mad sort of happiness take over your being and you move faster, almost driven by the manic feeling. Your body feels foreign and alien, possessed almost.

Entering your room, you shut the door as carefully as you can, and swear. No lock. You forgot about that.

Well, there's the bathroom... But it's bright in there, and you won't be able to see what you're doing in the dark either.

You gaze thoughtfully around the room, your brain going faster than it has in weeks. Your LED lights are on; the ones Hyunjin gifted you for your birthday are set to a gentle purple glow, casting soft violet hues over the bed and shelves. His smiling face appears in your mind and you push it away before you can get distracted.

The bedroom will do.

You avoid looking in the mirror as you pass it by, opening the door to the bathroom and rummaging in the drawers, not bothering to turn the light on. You know this routine well enough.

You pull out a pack of tissues, crumpling it in your hand, and reach under the top of the drawer above it. You move your fingers side to side until they catch on a piece of metal, hidden under a strip of tape, and pull it out. The tape dangles and you carelessly push the drawer shut.

Reentering the bedroom, you sit down at the foot of the bed. Shimmying off your jeans, and then taking off your shirt too, you set them aside to avoid any stains. Not that it matters anymore. They'll find you here with the razor blade still in your hand. You tug at the strap of your bra, trying to relieve the sudden tension stuck between them.

You're really doing this.

Because it doesn't matter, right?

Right?

No, you shake your head firmly, tears building in your eyes, stubborn and despondent. This is for the best.

Your eyes scan your thighs. Looking for the unscarred skin, the parts of you that are still smooth, still clean, not too-far-gone, not rough around the edges, not crumbling, not breaking, not you-

It stings a little the first time. Your breathing becomes shallow as you watch the skin. Nothing wells up, and you can't see the first slicing impact of it, the lighting too low to be able to see anything much. Nothing happens, so you do it again.

And again. And again.

The mad impulse takes over.

You draw your hand in messy, deep, harsh lines across your thighs, quick and brutal, and when you look down, your fingertips are stained in blood. So is the blade, and both thighs are a mess. It aches, but it feels so, so good.

Like greeting an old friend, like embracing someone you thought you'd seen left behind. It burns and the wetness of tacky blood sliding down your legs feels... nice, almost. Familiar, definitely.

Your breathing becomes even more shallow, coming in quick, short gasps, your eyes scanning the skin, moving to your arms, drawing long, deep slashes, welling with blood, spilling like the tears in your eyes, tacky and slippery and iron-smelling, black under the light.

The air smells like blood. It's cloying and you breathe yourself in, gruesome in the best way.

Your hands are sticky and drying with the faint sheen and splotches of scarlet, and when your eyes meet your wrist, you pause.

Just for a second.

And then you raise your hand, the blade sticky and red, smeared and slippery between your shaking fingers. A salute, the colour of finality staining your fingertips, wet, raw, real.

You smile as the tears slip down, soaking your cheeks. Squeezing your eyes shut, taking a last breath, and bring your hand down.

Down...

You feel the deep bite of the blade, hear the slight scrape of it, push it deeper, and rip sideways. As hard as you can.

Gritting your teeth, your eyes squeeze even tighter closed and you lift your hand and rip into the soft skin again and again, determined to draw every drop of blackened scarlet out of you, stain your body, stain the floor.

Then a rustle, a flash of light, a tackle to your curled figure.

You smell faded cologne and the world tips sharply sideways. The blade goes flying and your head hits the wall, dull, not enough to knock you out but enough to stun you.

You blink as a warm weight settles over you, emerging from a dazed stupor, frantic and shaking and gasping, and your eyes meet Minho's, welling with violet tears under the artificial light.

"No," he gasps, crying. A sob rips from his throat. "No, Y/n, why- Y/n, oh, fuck-"

You don't say anything, heart pounding, watching as Minho lifts a hand, stained in scarlet, shaking, distressed, cradling your arm. You think you're wearing a sleeve over your arm before you realise the sleeve is wet, and it's not a sleeve of fabric at all, rather a stream of wet, tacky blood.

Dark and deep. White peeks at the edges of the cut, stinging under the coolness of the movement of air around you.

You don't move, but Minho does. He pulls you upright, into his chest, gasping and gulping for air like he's the one bleeding out.

His scream for Chan chills your heart, chills you to the bone.

"Chan-hyung," he shouts, voice breaking, almost a scream. He screams it over and over again. He sounds like a child more than anything else.

You can't see anything, face buried in Minho's shirt, but you feel the back of your head being cradled, eyes drooping, and Minho's tears begin to drip onto your face as he leans over you, holding you like a precious item, fragile, breakable. He looks terrified, but you feel calm, strangely so.

He's shaking, and the sound of thumping footsteps and shouts of concern, not just one set of them, but multiple, thunder towards you, assaulting your ears like a shower of dull bullets.

Light floods the room, blank and yellow and foreign from a lamp in the corner, and Chan's hands are on you, and when you look across, Jeongin is on his knees at the doorway, wailing, Hyunjin and Seungmin at his sides, the rest of the members a horrified, terrified cluster of bodies behind them. You hear a thud and see Felix fall, then more shouting, someone rushing into the bathroom, noise and crying and gasps and-

"Y/n," Chan gasps, phone to his ear, shaking, tears slipping down his cheeks. You can't feel his warmth, or maybe his hands have gone cold. "Y/n, you'll be okay. Stay with us. You're gonna be fine, baby, I promise..."

You let yourself relax in Minho's shaking arms, stare up at the ceiling. His sobs sound nothing like him. Having never heard him cry, it's strange to finally hear his misery. It sounds soft, breakable, almost unreal. It makes you smile.

The world screens out to black.

Minho's prominent sobs fade into the background.

.

It still hurts. Sometimes.

But only sometimes. Like a bruise that you forget you have, it only stings when you push too hard, knock it against something.

The wound is healing. So are your thighs.

But it still hurts. Just like the memory.

You'd woken in a dazed stupor in the hospital, doctors and nurses and the members and the staffs' faces all blurring together in white flashes, smelling faintly of iron and disinfectant.

Two weeks later, you were back home. The cut wasn't actually that bad. Just bled a lot, made a mess. But not enough to...

Anyway.

The memory, the stinging pain of the event floats faintly around your head like a cloud, filled with rain but unsure whether to pour it all out. You still feel dazed, numb, but not as much as before. Guilty, definitely, but never more loved.

You wonder what would have happened if you'd actually followed through with it. Because deep down, you know that you didn't really want to die. Leave everyone behind, escape entirely, hand your pain over with shaking hands to those you knew. But part of you is still reeling, shaking, frantic inside, when you remember how you felt.

Upstairs, alone, numb.

While your members, unknowingly laughed and bickered on the level below. You wonder what went through their heads when they heard Minho's screaming, saw you almost lifeless, a half-dead, scarlet mess in his arms, saw Chan's shaking hands and the dull light of his phone as he called the ambulance. Felix fainting, the thud of his knees hitting the cold hardwood. Jeongin's devastated wailing.

You hear the sounds of it all, expressionless, barely-alive, but so, so real.

The thin tip of a pen slowly pulls you back to the surface. Makes your skin tingle on the inside of your arm, the sensitive skin around your wrist that you somehow managed to avoid in your distress. That vital vein.

You look down.

Minho's hair brushes against your cheek as you peek at your arm; you can feel the soft tip of the black pen in his hand poking lightly at the skin.

"What are you drawing?" You say softly.

He doesn't reply, too focused on the black lines flowing out of the pen. They're a little shaky, and he's careful not to touch the bandage wrapping your wrist, but you can tell he's clearly invested in leaving the drawings over your arm. You can't see what it is yet.

Chan comes over then, sitting down quietly on the couch next to you. He sets a cup of tea on the table, and you feel the familiar, warm weight of his head on your shoulder, nestling in the crook of your neck. You both watch a tendril of steam rise from the cup, curling and fading into the air in soft, white wisps. The scent of heated chamomile fills the room, and you smile as Chan inhales deeply.

His hand finds yours, resting on your knee, warm and dry and calloused. You feel the steady, solid weight of it over your own, his fingertips brushing your knuckles as he glances at your left forearm.

"Whatcha doing, Min?" He murmurs.

Minho responds with a hum, a little squeak that makes you smile. He sounds like one of his cats. He pulls back, capping the black pen with a smile of satisfaction.

"Do you like it?" He says, clearly proud of himself. Chan chuckles, leaning in to get a closer look at his drawing.

You smile back. It's small, but it's real, genuine. So is the slightly-smudged butterfly on the soft skin of your inner forearm.

"Yes," you say, touching it gently. "I do."

a/n: okay well now i'm sad . div by @webc00re

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[bedlam-barbie]

heartbeat

Pairing: In ho x wife!reader

Warnings: none

Summary:  your husband finally comes home after the games… but he is not alone, he brings a baby with him

Category: fluff, slight angst but mostly fluff

Word count: 2k

Author's note: Well... I finished season 3, I am in shambles so I wrote something short and sweet to feel better. This was a request, so if you have any more ideas, feel free to reach out!

It was well past midnight when the door finally clicked open.

The sound echoed through the penthouse—sharp and sudden against the low hum of the city outside, like the crack of a gunshot in a cathedral. She didn’t move at first. For a long moment, she simply stared out at the Seoul skyline, a thousand windows blinking like stars through the floor-to-ceiling glass. Rain misted the edges of the panes, turning the city into a blur of gold and neon.

She sat curled on the sleek leather sofa in the center of the room, barefoot, a glass of red wine balanced delicately in her hand. The place was immaculate, as always, cool-toned marble floors, matte black counters, and warm recessed lighting that cast soft shadows against the high ceilings. Everything about the penthouse was polished, modern, and cold.

Except for the way she waited.

It had been nine days. Nine long, unspoken days since he’d left, no details, only a promise that he would return. And now, without fanfare or forewarning, he had.

“You’re late, jagi,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the silence like silk through paper. A smile ghosted at the corners of her mouth, faintly amused but laced with something harder,relief that tasted like resentment on her tongue. “There’s dinner in the oven. I’ll go warm it—”

She turned.

And stopped breathing.

There, just inside the doorway, stood Hwang In-ho. Her husband. But not quite the same man who had left. His black suit clung to him, damp from the mist outside, his hair slightly disheveled, eyes shadowed with exhaustion or something deeper. He looked like he’d walked through fire and rain to get here—and perhaps he had. But it wasn’t his state that stole the breath from her lungs.

It was the child in his arms.

A baby. Wrapped in a soft, pale blanket, its tiny hands curled like blossoms against its cheek, fast asleep against his chest.For a moment, the world tilted. Her breath caught, and something inside her chest twisted with confusion, awe, and a fear she couldn’t name.She took a step forward.

“In-ho…” she murmured, her voice cracking, more air than sound. “What did you do?”

He didn’t answer. Not yet. His gaze met hers across the polished expanse of the room, unreadable and heavy with something unspoken. Guilt? Grief? Resolve?

As she approached slowly, her eyes dropped to the bundle in his arms. Her heart softened instantly, instinctively. The baby was so small. So peaceful.

“Hi, treasure…” Her voice broke again, this time with something gentler, something maternal that she hadn’t expected to feel. She reached out with trembling fingers, brushing the baby’s downy head. “You’re safe now.”

And in that moment, in the hush of their immaculate home, beneath the vast, glittering night, she understood: whatever had happened on that island had changed everything.

“One… one of the players was pregnant,” In-ho said at last, his voice a low rasp barely above a whisper.

The words hung in the air like smoke, curling into the corners of the room. He didn’t look at her as he spoke—his eyes stayed fixed on the baby in his arms, as if acknowledging the truth out loud might somehow undo it. But she heard it all the same. The guilt. The exhaustion. The unbearable weight behind his confession.

She didn’t need to ask more. She knew. She had watched him return from that island year after year, never unscathed, never quite whole, but always composed. Cold, even. Efficient. He carried the role of Frontman like armor, thick and impenetrable. But tonight... that armor was cracked.

And something inside him was bleeding through. She watched him, standing in the soft light of their home, and understood with chilling clarity: this time had broken something in him.

“Go eat,” she said quietly, her voice firm but warm, her eyes never leaving his. “I’ll take care of her.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak, she closed the distance between them and rose onto her toes, cupping the back of his neck with one steady hand. Her lips met his in a kiss that was less greeting than grounding, something to anchor him back into the world.

His lips tasted of whiskey. Of cold night air. And beneath that, something darker. Gunpowder, maybe. Regret. She kissed him slowly, deliberately, letting the silence wrap around them, letting the weight of his actions settle without judgment.

In ho kissed her back, but with hesitation, like a man who wasn’t sure if he deserved comfort anymore. His hand hovered at her waist, unsure. When she finally pulled away, she rested her forehead briefly against his before stepping back.

Then, gently, she reached for the baby.

The tiny thing stirred as she was transferred into new arms, her eyes fluttering open with a soft, confused noise, somewhere between a coo and a cry. Just a breath of sound—but it shattered something fragile in the air.

She cradled the infant close to her chest, instinctively swaying, and looked down into wide, unfocused eyes the color of deep ink. There was something hauntingly familiar in them, though she couldn’t place it.

“She doesn’t even know what she’s survived,” she murmured, almost to herself. Her voice was softer now, reverent and full of sorrow. “No child should have to start life like that.”

In-ho stood still, shoulders tight, hands empty now. He looked utterly lost, like a man who’d brought back something sacred from a place meant only for death, and didn’t know what to do with it.

“She doesn’t have anyone,” he said after a moment, his voice rough. “Her mother died… after one of the games. I don’t even know if she had a name picked out.”

She looked up at him, her arms wrapped securely around the child.

“Then we’ll give her one,” she said simply. “And she’ll have us.”

For a moment, he just stared at her. Then he nodded, once, slowly, like he didn’t quite believe he deserved her grace, but was willing to accept it anyway. The baby gave a soft sigh and drifted back into sleep against her chest, and the room, so often sterile and still, felt different now.

Warmer. Fragile. Alive.

“What was her mother’s name?” she asked softly, shifting the baby in her arms with practiced ease, as though she’d held her a hundred times before. With her free hand, she reached out to take the worn baby bag from In-ho’s shoulder—its weight a small thing compared to the burden that had brought it here.

In-ho hesitated, as if the answer might cost him something. Then, quietly: “Jun-hee.”

He shed his suit jacket first—damp at the shoulders, creased and bloodless from hours of wear. Then the black gloves came off, tossed beside the jacket like discarded armor. His tie followed, unknotted with fingers that trembled only slightly, and he leaned heavily against the marble kitchen counter, suddenly looking older than she’d ever seen him. The low lights of the penthouse cast long shadows over his face, tracing the hollows of a man stretched thin by grief and guilt.

He raked a hand through his damp hair, but his gaze never left her—not her, and not the child in her arms.

A child whose mother had died in a place he helped run. A place where people were pitted against one another like animals in a cage. And yet here he was, watching that same child held gently by his wife, as if the world hadn’t just split open.

He didn’t deserve this.

That truth sat on his chest like a stone. He didn’t deserve the soft sound of the baby’s breath, or the way his wife had kissed him without flinching, without needing an explanation. He didn’t deserve to live in this quiet, golden-lit moment knowing he had facilitated the games that took Jun-hee’s life, even if he hadn’t pulled the trigger himself.

But what else could he have done?

Jun-hee had made Gi-hun promise. With a broken voice and bloody hands, she had begged Gi-hun, Keep her safe. And now, the girl had no one else in the world. Just In-ho. And his wife..

“Then she should be named after her mother,” his wife said simply.

The baby stirred again, as if recognizing the sound of her name spoken with such warmth. One tiny hand slipped out from beneath the folds of her blanket, reaching into the air with a gentle flail.

“Oh, you like that?” she cooed, cradling the baby closer. “I’m sure your mother was beautiful… and very brave. Brave enough to bring you into this world hoping you'd have a better life.”

The baby’s fingers curled into her sweater as she spoke, and his wife pressed a kiss to the infant’s head, breathing in the warm, powdery scent only newborns had. The ache in her voice was subtle, but real. She didn’t know Jun-hee, but she understood her.

In-ho exhaled and turned to the counter, wordlessly opening the baby bag, packed by one of his pink guards. Inside, everything had been packed with care, formula, diapers, a single pink onesie folded with delicate precision. 

He pulled out the small bottle and a container of powdered milk. He didn’t need instructions, his hands moved on instinct, like they’d done it before, in some other life. He warmed the bottle gently, testing it on the inside of his wrist, watching the steam rise.

“She’ll be hungry soon,” he murmured, almost to himself.

His wife glanced back at him, eyes soft.

“You’re good with her,” she said.

“I don’t feel good,” he replied, voice raw.

“I know,” she said. “But you still came home. And you brought her with you.”

He looked down at the bottle in his hands. In another world, maybe this would have been his child. Maybe he and his wife would have had this moment under gentler circumstances. But in this world, this cruel, twisted one, this was how it had to begin.

With guilt. And blood. And a desperate attempt to do one right thing.

He crossed the room and handed her the warm bottle. The baby stirred again, whimpering now, her eyes fluttering open, searching blindly for something to hold onto. She took the bottle and started feeding her, while humming a soft lullaby as she gently rocked her.

“She’s yours now,” he said quietly.

His wife looked down at the infant—at little Jun-hee—and then up at him, her expression unreadable.

“No,” she corrected gently. “She’s ours.”

And for the first time since he stepped off the island, In-ho allowed himself to breathe. Just for a second.

[meadowfics]

postpartum

husband!babyfather!kang dae-ho x f!wife!mom!reader

in a world where you did get to have your family, unlike what happened here

warnings: mentions of normal post-pregnancy stuff like breastmilk pumping. postpartum depression. dae-ho being ALIVE in this one and being the best husband to you and father to your babies <3

heavily requested in my inbox after what I posted yesterday LMAO

the weight of it all is suffocating.

you sit on the couch, your body sinking into the cushions as exhaustion drapes over you like a heavy, unshakable blanket. 

in your arms, tiny and delicate, byeol drinks from her bottle, her little fingers curling and uncurling against your chest, her slow, steady suckling the only sound anchoring you in the moment.

the babies tiny body is warm against you, her breaths soft, her features too much like dae-ho’s that it makes your heart ache.

normally, you would be lost in adoration, in awe of this little life you brought into the world. you would trace her perfect cheeks with your fingers, marvel at the way her lashes flutter as she drinks, kiss the soft long hair she inherited from her father. 

today, you are simply trying to hold yourself together.

your body is sore, aching from the endless cycle of feeding, pumping, and barely sleeping. your mind feels foggy, tangled with thoughts you don’t want to have, emotions you don’t want to feel. 

you love your daughters, you love dae-ho, you love your family. you would never trade this for anything. 

however, the love isn’t enough to make the heaviness go away.

across the room, seo-ah plays on the floor, a bright burst of energy that fills every corner of the house. she chatters to her stuffed animals, her high-pitched giggles filling the space, making everything feel alive in a way that you cannot.

“appa! look! teddy is dancing!” 

she exclaims, lifting her stuffed bear into the air, twirling it in circles.

dae-ho, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her, gasps in exaggerated excitement. 

“wahhh! so cool, teddy is so talented!”

seo-ah beams at the praise, her eyes crinkling as she twirls again, her joy infectious, her laughter like sunshine.

normally, that sound would lift you. 

normally, watching dae-ho be the incredible father that he is would warm your heart, remind you that you are not alone in this, that you have him.

today, it only makes the exhaustion worse.

dae-ho’s gaze flickers toward you, sharp and observant, even as he stays engaged with seo-ah’s game. 

he doesn’t miss the tension in your shoulders, the blankness in your eyes, the way your responses are slower, quieter than usual.

he gets up, making his way to you, crouching in front of the couch so that he’s level with you. 

“baby,” he murmurs, his voice soft, careful. 

“are you okay?”

you manage a small smile. 

“yeah, just tired.”

the marine’s warm, calloused hands settle on your knees, thumbs rubbing slow, comforting circles. 

“do you want me to take byeol for a bit? you’ve been holding her all day.”

you shake your head, your arms instinctively tightening around byeol’s small frame. 

“no, i got it.”

dae-ho doesn’t push. he never does. 

he simply nods, but the concern lingers in his eyes.

after twenty minutes, when byeol finishes her bottle, you sigh, shifting in your seat. 

“love, can you do their bedtime routine tonight? i feel… gross. i just wanna shower.”

dae-ho’s expression softens instantly, and without hesitation, he leans forward to press a gentle kiss to your temple before carefully lifting mini byeol from your arms. 

“of course, baby. take your time, okay?”

he doesn’t say it to make you feel better. he means it. 

every time, every single time, he is happy to take care of his girls. 

he never complains, never hesitates. 

he loves them, loves you.

as he walks away, bouncing byeol gently in his arms, calling for seo-ah in that affectionate tone he always uses, you make your way to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you.

unfortunately, the moment you step into the shower, the relief you so desperately crave does not come.

the warm water cascades down your skin, but it does nothing to ease the exhaustion weighing down on you. 

the pressure is strong, firm against your sore muscles, but you still feel tense, wound so tightly that no amount of heat can unravel you.

you let your head drop forward, resting your forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall. your arms hang limply at your sides, the steam rising around you in thick waves. 

for a moment, you try to breathe…slow, deep, steady. but it doesn’t help. nothing does.

your body doesn’t feel like yours anymore.

your breasts ache, swollen and sore from pumping, tender in a way that makes you wince when the water hits them. your stomach, still soft and a little stretched from carrying byeol, stirs something sharp and cruel inside you, something that whispers that you’ll never look or feel the same again. 

honestly, you cannot recall if you felt like this after having seo-ah.

you press your palm against yourself, fingers tracing over the faint marks left behind from your pregnancy, and you don’t know whether you love them or hate them.

a lump forms in your throat as your gaze flickers downward. 

your thighs, your waist, the curve of your hips—none of it looks the way it used to. 

you know, logically, that your body is healing, that you just brought a life into this world. 

sometimes logic doesn’t quiet the thoughts that get at you, that tell you you are different now in a way that you can’t come back from.

you reach for your vanilla body wash, desperate for something familiar, something comforting.

the moment your fingers curl around the bottle, you realize it’s empty.

your breath catches.

it’s stupid. 

it’s just body wash. you can use dae-ho’s. 

it doesn’t matter.

it does.

your hand trembles slightly as you pick up his bottle instead, the scent of cedarwood and musk filling the space. it smells like him, like the warmth of his embrace, like the shirts you steal from his side of the closet. 

you squeeze the soap into your net sponge, rubbing it over your arms, your shoulders, your chest. the wrongness lingers, settling into the hollow of your ribs like an ache that won’t fade.

when will this get easier?

the thought slams into you like a wave, sudden and suffocating.

your chest tightens, and before you can stop it, tears spill over your cheeks, mixing with the water streaming down your face.

you bite down on your lip, trying to keep the sobs at bay, but it’s useless. the emotions hit all at once, hard and overwhelming, crushing under the weight of everything you’ve been holding in.

your shoulders shake as the sobs build, as the exhaustion and frustration and sadness pour out of you in waves you can’t control. 

you press a trembling hand to your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, trying not to let it get too loud and scare seo-ah from her bedroom.

no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you tell yourself to just get over it, to just be strong…you can’t stop.

the walls feel too close. the steam is suffocating. the sound of the water is deafening.

you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping onto the tile as you try to catch your breath, try to pull yourself together, try to remind yourself that you are okay.

you don’t feel okay.

you don’t know when you will again.

your body still aches. your breasts are sore from pumping, tender in a way that makes you wince when the water hits them. 

the final straw.

and then—

the door creaks open.

you don’t hear footsteps, don’t hear anything other than your own quiet cries. 

then the shower door slides open, and suddenly, there he is.

dae-ho.

your husband.

your breath catches as he takes you in….your trembling frame, the water streaming down your face, the way you try so desperately to wipe away the evidence of your breakdown.

he’s not having any of it.

without a word, he steps forward, his black shirt and joggers instantly soaked as he pulls you into his arms.

“baby,” he breathes against your wet hair, his voice thick with emotion. 

“don’t do that. don’t hide from me.”

you break.

your hands clutch at his shirt, your sobs shaking your whole body as he holds you. his large hands cradle the back of your head, his fingers slipping through your soaked hair as he rocks you gently.

“i know it’s hard,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“but i’m right here. i’ll always be right here.”

and you believe him.

he stays with you until the tears slow, until your breathing steadies. 

then, gently, he helps you out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you before drying you off with so much tenderness it nearly makes you cry all over again.

you don’t lift a finger.

he stands behind you, brushing through your damp hair before braiding it, his fingers moving with practiced ease thanks to his older sisters. 

he massages your vanilla body butter into your skin, his touch warm, comforting. when he helps you into your nightgown, his fingers linger at your waist, his gaze full of something so raw, so real, that it makes your breath hitch.

in bed, he helps you pump, his hands resting on your thighs, his presence a grounding force.

finally, when you’re settled against him, you whisper, 

“did they go to sleep easily?”

dae-ho hums. 

“byeol was easy, but seo-ah went on a five-minute rant about oreo ice cream before tiring herself out.”

you giggle softly, your heart swelling. 

“she really loves that ice cream.”

you don’t speak again until the question that has been weighing on you slips past your lips.

“dae…will i feel beautiful again?”

dae-ho’s response is immediate.

he pulls you close, pressing kiss after kiss to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips.

“you are beautiful now,” he murmurs against your skin. 

“you’ve always been beautiful. you gave us the most perfect babies. and i promise, baby, you’ll feel normal again. until then, i’ll be here. every step of the way.”

and in his arms, in his warmth, you believe him.

you will be okay, even if postpartum depression keeps trying to consume you.

masterlist

[bloomseishiro]

DAYDREAMING, WITH MY CHIN IN THE PALM OF MY HANDS — ITOSHI RIN

౨ৎ — sure, rin may be an asshole, but for some reason he offered to help tutor you in your worst subject, english. so maybe he’s not as bad as you thought. maybe he’s actually someone you could find yourself falling for. 

itoshi rin x fem!reader. fluff, high school au/no blue lock au, pining, the long awaited part 2 of “it’s impossible to ignore you” :3 ahh i loved writing this omg reader and rin r everything to meeee!! pls enjoy xx

word count. 6.3k 

“Rin is going to tutor you?” your friend, Akemi, asks with her jaw on the floor. “The same Rin who rejects girls by saying he doesn’t have time for them?” 

You nod sheepishly, just as surprised as she is. “He knows if I fail one more exam, I’ll have to retake the class during summer. And he offered to help me. Still, I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.” 

Her eyes widen as she takes a bite of her beef rice bowl. “Why would I not want my best friend to get help from the best English speaker in our grade? I don’t want you to fail!” 

“But he broke your heart just yesterday!” 

Akemi sighs, waving her hand dismissively. “Yeah, he did. And he sucks for that. But I guess I was more infatuated with him than in love. I mean—what’s his favorite color anyway?” 

You shrug.

“I don’t know either. Someone in love should probably have known at least that,” she giggles. “You don’t need to turn down a great opportunity on my account.” 

Giving her a grateful look, you mumble, “I really do want to pass English. Do you think he can actually help?”

“If he can’t, who can?”

“The Tooth Fairy? Maybe if I find a tooth to put under my pillow…” 

She makes a face. “First off, that’s gross. Second, I think the Tooth Fairy only gives you money, not a passing grade.”

You groan, placing your head in your hands with an exaggerated movement. 

Akemi simply laughs at your dramatics. “Oh, come on. Studying won’t be that bad. When’s your first tutoring session, anyway?”

“It was supposed to be now,” you reply, twirling a strand of hair as you glance away to avoid her incredulous stare. “But I just couldn’t start without making sure you were okay with it first! I asked Rin if we could postpone…”

“Y/N!” she exclaims, practically slamming down her bowl of rice onto the cafeteria table. “That’s so stupid of you! And sweet. Very sweet. You’re the best friend ever. But you could’ve been at least three times more knowledgeable about English by now!” 

You give her a sideways look. “Three times? Don’t you give Rin too much credit?” 

Akemi raises her brow at you. “Have you ever paid attention to him speaking English? Three times better in one session is the minimum. Go text Rin and reschedule for after school.”

“But—”

“No buts,” she says sternly. 

“But,” you continue in an exaggerated tone, “he has soccer practice after school.”

“Tell him you’ll wait for him then,” Akemi offers as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. “You are the one who cancelled your lunch session at the last minute, after all. It’s the canceller’s duty to reschedule.” 

“That’s not even a word.”

She glares at you. 

You sigh in resignation, holding your hands up as you swallow the last bite of your food. “You’re right. I have English with him next period. Apparently. I’ll ask him if he can tutor me this evening when I see him.” 

Akemi nods in satisfaction, giving you a wide grin and a thumbs up. “Good luck, Y/N. I know you’ll ace the next test!” 

Exchanging a small smile, you nod in determination. “I will definitely pass. The next exam will be mine!” 

At least, you hope so. That is what Rin told you, after all, and soon it’d be time to see if he lives up to that promise. 

Half of you expects Rin to say no, that he’s too busy to tutor you tonight and it’s totally your loss for cancelling on him in the first place. But to your surprise, he simply nods. 

That’s how you find yourself sitting on the bleachers as you watch Rin playing soccer at his after school club. 

Oddly enough, it seems you aren’t the only one. 

“Oh, my god! Rin is so good,” the girl to your left, a few rows away from you swoons. 

“Yeah, he’s totally in charge on the field,” says another in a similar, dreamy tone. “So intense!”

A guy sitting next to them snorts, folding his hands over his arms. “Too intense. All he cares about is soccer and winning. Nothing else.” 

You raise your brow, looking over at the group with your peripheral vision. There was no doubt in your mind that the guy had a crush on one of the girls he was with, but she was too hopelessly infatuated with Rin to notice. 

The classic highschool love triangle.

Sort of. Maybe it’s more of a broken love line.

As the sun begins to set, the coach ends the practice and tells everyone to keep up the good work before dismissing them. 

You silently watch Rin down a bottle of water before grabbing a clean towel to wipe his face and neck. Seeing as the practice was over and it would likely be time for your tutoring session soon, you make your way down to the field.

“Not another one of Rin’s secret admirers,” one of his teammates groans to another. “I’ve seen enough rejections this week to last a lifetime.”

If Rin can hear them (which, given he’s only three feet away, there’s no doubt that he can’t), he chooses to ignore them completely. Instead, he saunters over to you and nods in greeting. 

“Give me a minute to change, then we can go,” he says, brushing his hair out of his face with his fingers. “Wait for me by the door.” 

From the corner of your eye, you see his teammates’ jaws drop as Rin begins to walk away to clean himself up.

“Is he willingly…speaking to a girl?” whispers one with a bleached blonde streak in his fringe. 

Another shivers, a horrified look on his face. “I feel like the world just turned upside down.” 

You stifle a laugh at their dramatics. The concept of Rin willingly interacting with someone of the opposite sex shouldn’t be that revolutionary. But, you have met Rin, after all. His stoic and uncaring persona did run rampant at times. Perhaps their shock isn’t so misplaced.

Much to your pleasure, you don’t have to wait long for Rin to finish up in the locker rooms. The outfit he changed into is a casual one—a simple crew neck and black joggers—but he somehow manages to look fully put-together. 

He comes up to you and you wave, finally allowing yourself to smile. “Hi, Rin.” 

“Hey,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Ready?” 

You nod, walking side-by-side with him as you skip over to the school library. It’s not open for too much longer, but it should be enough for you to get a good hour of tutoring in. 

“How was practice?” you ask conversationally as you make your way down the hall. 

Rin shrugs. “Nothing special.”

You huff to yourself, glad to see he was as chipper as ever. And to think you two almost had a moment after that train ride… It must’ve been your delusions talking. 

As he enters the library, he finds a table for you to sit at near the back, away from the librarian and remaining students so as to not disrupt them with your talking. 

“The last test we had in the class was about reading comprehension, right?” asks Rin, pulling out a children’s picture book written in English and handing it over to you. “Is your issue that you don’t know the words, or you don’t understand the meaning?”

“Of course I know the words!” you cry indignantly, proving yourself by reading a random page of the book and translating them out loud in Japanese. “Back when all we did were vocabulary tests in the previous years, I aced those. It’s the…putting it together I don’t get.” 

He nods as if he expected it. “I figured you would know how to translate it. You are in the advanced English class, after all,” he says dryly. 

“Somehow,” you murmur.

“Knowing how to translate each word to Japanese is different from understanding it in English.” 

“That’s what the hard part is,” you agree miserably.

Rin snorts, “Then maybe you shouldn’t have done Advanced English. You would’ve done just fine in the normal classes. This is the only teacher who actually cares about our conversational and comprehension skills.”

“But I always take the advanced classes!”

“How’s that working out for you?”

You glare at him. “Well, it’d be better if my English tutor was actually helpful!” 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m getting there. I have to gauge how bad you are before I know where you need help.”

You heave a sigh, unable to argue with his logic. 

Rin searches something on his phone before showing it to you. “Here, can you read that?” 

Nodding slowly, you say the title in Japanese, “Analysis of relative gene expression data using real-time quantitative—”

“In English,” interrupts Rin exasperatedly. 

You frown. “But… I don’t know how to pronounce it.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just try.”

Try and make a fool of yourself? No thanks. 

You shake your head stubbornly. 

Rin pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales loudly. “Okay. Well, you can theoretically translate a research paper, but you don’t know how those words go together. And you can’t make sense of it in English.”

“Sounds accurate,” you sniff. 

“All that knowledge about vocabulary and grammar won’t do you any good if you can’t understand the source language,” he comments, deadpan but not rude. 

“Well, how do we fix it, doctor?” you say sarcastically. 

He huffs, taking his phone back from you in one swift motion. “We put you through the most intensive training regimen I know. Watching English movies.”

Your next tutoring session is at Rin’s house. 

It’s a nice house, but rather empty. There are pictures of him, his parents, and someone you assume to be his brother scattered throughout the hallways, but no one else is home. When Rin opens the door, he doesn’t even have to greet anyone or introduce you to his parents before bringing you to his room. 

The session starts with Rin going over some grammar and sentence structures from an earlier class (one that you definitely slept through), and segues into you reading another children’s book. This time, he demands you read it in English and give him a summary about what it’s about instead of translating each word into Japanese. 

“The larger context is more important than each individual word. Even if you don’t know a few words, you should still be able to understand what’s going on,” he says, already sounding impatient. But really, you think that’s just the perpetual tone of his voice.

This time, you dutifully listen. You had to put your trust in Rin’s tutoring skills if you wanted a chance to pass the class. 

As you read through the picture book with a giant elephant on the cover, your brows furrow in confusion. You aren’t sure if you’re just complete ass at reading English, or if the story was genuinely this bizarre.

“Rin,” you say hesitantly.

“Hm?” 

“Is this really about an elephant finding a small planet on a speck on a clover? And no one believes him because they can’t see it? Until they… Yopp?” 

Rin nods, looking thoroughly impressed. “So you can understand some English.”

“I don’t think half of the words in this book are even real!” 

“Exactly why it’s a perfect way to force you to focus on the context over translations,” he retorts. 

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity. Still, it did help you find some confidence in your comprehension skills. If you can read English on a paper, maybe understanding it audibly isn’t so far out of reach. 

Turning the TV in his room in, Rin lazily turns to you. “Time to start the intensive part. Let’s watch a movie in English. I’ll keep the Japanese subtitles on for a bit, but then change it to English subtitles only.”

You bite your lip, fiddling nervously with a thread on your sleeve. “I don’t know… That sounds a lot harder than reading a picture book meant for five year olds.”

“We can pause when you need to and go slow.”

Reluctantly, you nod. “What are we going to watch?”

“The Conjuring.”

“What’s that about?”

“You’ll see.” 

Rin sits on one side of his bed, gesturing for you to join him. Your cheeks begin to burn at the implication of joining him in bed, but the butterflies instantly turn into dust the moment he so obviously scoots away to put the most distance he possibly can between you two. 

As you blink at him questioningly, he simply explains, “My TV is better than the one in the living room. I’m not trying to…” 

“Yeah. I know.”

“Yeah,” he finishes awkwardly. 

The moment the movie comes onto the screen, your eyes widen with dread. It’s dark, and eerie, and you immediately know what this is. 

“A horror movie?!” you cry indignantly. “I did not sign up for this.”

“The plotlines in American horror movies are relatively simple,” insists Rin. “It should be easier for you to follow compared to a drama.”

You squint at his explanation, taking a pillow from his bed and hugging it close to your chest. “That sounds like baloney.” 

He snorts in amusement, eyeing the way you are clutching his pillow in a death grip. “Why? Are you scared?” 

“No!” 

Rin sighs, “I’ll keep the lights on.” 

You pause before muttering, “Thanks.” 

The movie starts and you immediately regret all your life choices. Is Rin trying to help you pass your English class, or is he secretly trying to torture you?

Rin really is an asshole…

It doesn’t take a genius to feel the sense of suspense and unease in the film, even if you didn’t fully understand what the actors were saying. You knew there was some demonic supernatural shit going on and you immediately hated it. 

Rin extends his leg and you can’t help but yelp at the sudden movement. 

Your head snaps to his, eyes wide and alert. 

“I was just getting a cramp,” he says with a hint of laughter in his voice. 

Of course, you were scared out of your mind and he was laughing. What do all the girls even see in him? 

You huff, sinking deeper into his bed and allowing his pillow to block more and more of your vision. In your fear-clouded haze, you vaguely notice Rin offering you another one of his pillows to hold. Those fluffy feathers would certainly be enough to fend off any evil spirits. 

During a particularly intense part, you find yourself abandoning the pillows and creeping over to Rin’s side of the bed, too scared to register how you grabbed his arm and buried your face in it. 

“I’m going to turn off the subtitles now,” he says, but you don’t let go of him as he reaches for the remote to change the settings. He glances over at you, his lip curled up. “Do you need a break?”

“No.” You shake your head fervently. “Let’s get this over with as soon as possible.”

He shrugs and resumes the movie, almost unfazed as you attach yourself back onto his side. 

This isn’t something you’re used to doing when you watch a movie with someone. In fact, you’re normally perfectly content sitting in your own personal space. But this movie was terrifying and you were willing to use anything that provided some source of comfort.

Besides, it doesn’t seem like Rin minds… Knowing him, he would’ve shoved you off the bed or told you to move if he got too uncomfortable. Plus, this situation is all his fault anyway. 

To your surprise, you understand some of the phrases the actors are saying despite having only English subtitles. Though, it comes at your own demise as you grow even more scared at the movie. 

You yelp as a jumpscare scene occurs, hiding your face behind your hair and pressing your cheek against Rin’s arm. 

A stifled laugh comes from beside you and you’re about to tell him off for finding enjoyment from your misery when he casually brushes your hair back behind your ear. The words on the tip of your tongue instantly become nothing but a forgotten whisper as your stomach flip-flops about ten times in the span of five seconds. 

The gentleness of his touch still burns your face. You look up at him, confused. 

“You can’t watch when your eyes are covered,” he says with his attention already back to the movie. 

You huff in annoyance. Trying to read Rin is harder than English.

For a moment, you’re tempted to put on a brave face and pull away, but you catch Rin looking over at you once more. This time his gaze is covert, as if he doesn’t want to be noticed. But it’s there. Though his expression is neutral, his eyes are bright as they burn into yours. When he sees you staring back, this time he doesn’t attempt to look away. 

Okay, so maybe you could understand why he had girls always swooning over him. 

The intensity of his gaze almost makes your cheeks flush. Almost.

Luckily for you, a sudden and loud noise from the movie jolts your mind away from…whatever that moment was.  

As the movie comes to an end and the plot is left unresolved, you are still as unsettled as you were when the movie first started. That is to say, Rin really screwed you over by making you watch this. 

“I officially hate you,” you proclaim as he turns the television off. 

“Again?” He raises his brow. “Why now?”

“Because, what kind of asshole makes someone watch a horror movie that will traumatize them for the rest of their lives?!” 

“It’s just The Conjuring.” 

You glare at him but he pays it no mind. 

“If you’re scared, that must mean you understood it,” he says smugly. 

“It’s not difficult to understand when there’s creepy music and dark shadows and everyone sounds slightly insane!”

“See, it’s all about context.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Do you?” he challenges. 

You sigh, “No. Well, maybe temporarily because there is no way in hell I’m going to be able to sleep tonight.” 

Rin fixes the pillows on his bed as you get off. “Are you really that scared?” 

“Yes! Do you think I’m faking this for dramatic effect?” you ask, incredulous. 

“No, but it’s just a movie. You don’t need to be scared once it stops playing.”

“Tell that to my brain.” 

Rin snorts and you fold your arms over your chest, looking out the window and wincing once you notice just how dark it is. 

“The sun’s already down?” you say with a small voice. “Maybe I should ask my mom to pick me up…” 

“Don’t you live nearby?”

You nod, toying with a strand of your hair nervously. “Yes, but a demon can still get me within the ten minutes it takes to get home.”

Rin shakes his head but grabs a jacket as you begin to pack your belongings. “I’ll walk you home, then.”

You pause as you’re shoving your pencil case into your book bag. “You will?”

“Better than having someone come all the way here just to escort you,” he says dryly, leading you out the door. “And…I guess it might be slightly my fault you’re scared.” 

“Slightly?” you retort. “It’s definitely all your fault.” 

“That’s a funny way of saying ‘thanks for the tutoring session, Rin.’”

You pull a face, crinkling your nose as you repeat monotonously, “Thanks for the tutoring session, Rin.” 

He rolls his eyes but there’s a softness to his movements. “Yeah. Sure. You really are improving, you know?” 

Begrudgingly, you nod. When he wasn’t making you read weird books and watch scary movies, he was surprisingly patient explaining concepts like participles and tenses. That part was certainly easier for you than trying to read and comprehend in English, so you were glad he pushed you to do that as well. Though today, it may have cost your sanity. 

“I guess I should be more genuine,” you say guiltily. “I really am thankful for your help. I know you could be doing lots of other things with your time. Like, practicing more soccer or…watching scary movies. Or… Actually, I don’t know what else you do in your free time.”

He shrugs. “That’s about it, really. I play horror games, too, I guess.”

“With friends?” 

“Does it seem like I make friends?” asks Rin in amusement. 

You shake your head sheepishly. “Your brother, then?” 

He frowns at the mention of his brother, his bright eyes growing dimmer. “No. Definitely not with him. Alone. I play alone. I like it better that way.” 

Sensing that you accidentally overstepped on a touchy subject, you clear your throat and look away. “Well, that’s fun too.” 

After a few moments of awkward silence as you walk down the poorly lit street, Rin offers, “Sorry.” 

You spare him a questioning glance. 

“For snapping,” he continues with an annoyed exhale. “We’re not on good terms. My older brother and I.”

You nod in understanding, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “I could tell. I’m sorry for bringing him up.” 

Rin waves you off. “It’s whatever.”

It’s definitely not whatever, but okay, you say to yourself. 

The two of you continue walking down the street, turning the corner in silence, but this time it’s not awkward or uncomfortable. Just a neutral calmness. That is, until you hear the sudden ring of a bicycle bell and jump in fear. 

Rin coughs to hide a laugh. 

“I don’t even want to hear it from you!” you sniff, haughtily crossing your arms and walking ahead of him. “You’re the one to blame for my jitters. How will I ever sleep tonight?”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I know, didn’t I say I’m sorry already?” 

“A sorry isn’t enough,” you say with a humph. “How will you atone?” 

“You sound crazy,” he says, but humors you nonetheless. “I’ll send you funny cat videos until you fall asleep.”

Your ears perk at the offer. “You drive a hard bargain. Fine.” 

“I don’t have your number.” 

Rin hands you his phone and you swiftly add yourself as a contact. 

“Did you really add yourself as ‘Rin’s Worst Nightmare, devil emoji, devil emoji’?” 

You nod proudly. 

“Just remember you said it, not me,” he smirked. “What will my name be on your phone?”

“Probably something like, ‘Number One Pain in my Ass.’” 

“Creative,” he drawls. 

You stick your tongue out at him.

Your walk continues and soon enough, you see the outside of your house come into view. There’s a light visible through the window and you thank the stars you won’t be coming home to a creepy, dark house. 

“This is my stop,” you announce with a smile. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“Yeah. I guess I did owe you for scaring you shitless.”

You laugh in acknowledgment. The movie was scary, but at least there were moments you could get your mind off it. “And don’t forget you still owe me cat videos!” 

Rin nods. “I’ll send them after I get ready for bed. Try to get some rest now.” 

“You too, Rin.”

“How are your tutoring sessions coming along?” asks Akemi, laying down with her head hanging off your bed. 

It’s Friday night after school and Rin told you that he would be too busy to tutor you tonight, which makes it the perfect time to catch up with your friend.

“Good, actually.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” she laughs. 

“I thought he would change his mind and leave me to dry,” you reply with a giggle. “Rin’s offer was so sudden, you know? I was partly expecting him to take it back.” 

“That does seem like something he’d do to most people,” Akemi agrees, then shoots you a devilish grin. “But not to you. He must like you.”

You shake your head in denial. “There’s no way that’s the case.” 

“But what if it was?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. “Would you be happy? Maybe you even like him back?” 

Groaning, you throw a pillow at her face to stop her incessant questioning. 

There’s simply no way Rin liked you. He was just slightly nicer to you because he thought you were someone who is actually worth his time. Whatever that means. 

And there’s an even less chance you like him! 

Rin has his caring moments, you will give him that, but most times he’s arrogant, emotionally unavailable, and ruthless. Somehow, those qualities suit him…

You catch yourself, shaking your head feverishly at the thought. 

There’s no way you could be developing a crush on Rin. 

So why do you feel yourself getting butterflies as you think about your next tutoring session? 

This session is at your house this time. 

You’ve had a handful of meetings in the library over the past few weeks, but Rin decided it was time for another intensive training session— Meaning, it was time for you to watch another movie. 

“It won’t be horror this time,” he assures you, tone only slightly mocking. “I think you’ve gotten decent enough that you can graduate to a more confusing genre.”

“Like romance?” you say excitedly. If Rin forced you to watch a scary movie that gave you nightmares for two weeks straight, then you could force him to sit through some romance movies you know he would hate. 

Heaving a sigh, he begrudgingly shrugs. “Student’s choice. Also, it’s your house. I don’t know what movies or streaming services you have.” 

“So you’ll watch 10 Things I Hate About You with me?” 

“It can’t be a movie you’ve already seen,” Rin says, folding his arms as he leans back on your couch. “The point is to try to piece together the plot and what the characters are saying, not recite something you’ve seen a million times.” 

You pout, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa. “But it’s a good movie…”

“We’ll watch it another time. After you pass the exam.”

After you pass? So Rin’s implying he wants to keep hanging out with you even after these tutoring sessions are over? Your cheeks flush at the thought. 

As you scroll through numerous streaming sites, you finally find a title that sounds familiar. 

“My friend told me this one is good! How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” you point out eagerly. 

“You must like the number ten,” he comments. 

“You’ll love it too after this!” 

Rin stifles a chuckle, and you realize you’ve been hearing him semi-laugh more often lately. The ruthless ice prince does have a fun side to him. He is still, after all, just a high school guy in your grade. And you hate to admit that it fills you with some sense of pleasure knowing you’re the only one in school who has likely ever heard that noise come out of Rin’s mouth. 

“Since it’s my first time watching too, we can compare our summaries after.” 

You groan, almost forgetting that this was a tutoring session and not just a movie night with a friend. “Compare summaries? What’s next, do I have to cite my sources?” 

He rolls his eyes at you. “Keep it up and I’ll say yes, you do.” 

Immediately, you shut your lips, desperately wanting to avoid as much outside-of-school work as possible. 

“This is so cheesy,” complains Rin as the two of you watch the movie in silence, both invested in the plot. “He has a bet, she has an ulterior motive, they’re going to fall in love while using each other, the reveal is going to split them apart, then they’re going to make up somehow and then the movie will end. I don’t even need to finish it to know.” 

You glare at him, eyes fixed on the screen as Andie exchanges a touching conversation with Ben’s mother. “Spoilers, much?” 

“I’m not spoiling, it’s an educated guess.”

“Keep it to yourself,” you demand playfully, sticking your tongue out. “Some of us like to be surprised.” 

He exhales loudly but turns his attention back to the TV. 

The rest of the movie passes by peacefully until you get to a certain scene where the main characters have their obligatory romantic kiss. The kiss is slow and playful, and the scene is so intimate you almost have to look away. 

Bashfully, you take your eyes off the screen and see Rin following suit, the apples of his cheeks colored a faint pink. 

He looks rather cute. 

Your mind starts to wander, picturing you and Rin sharing a kiss like the one on screen and you find your throat getting dry. Would his lips be soft or chapped? They look soft. Would he be the type to hold your chin, your cheek, or your jaw as he kisses you? Maybe even the back of your neck, if you were lucky. You wanted to find out…

Slapping your hands to your face, you silently tell yourself to snap out of it. 

He looks over at you, alarmed. “Did you just hit yourself?” 

“I thought I felt a fly.”

“On both cheeks?” 

“A fly on one side and a mosquito on the other.”

Rin’s brows shoot up before he shakes his head, knowing sometimes, it’s better not to question your logic. “Okay.”

Slowly, the scene escalates from a couple of gentle kisses to the characters taking each other’s shirts off. 

Your eyes widen as your gaze is forced away once again. 

“Hey. What the hell is this rated?” Rin coughs, his voice strangled. “Aren’t your parents home?”

Through your embarrassment, you glance at him in surprise. Did he really sound flustered just then? So Rin really does have the capacity to feel normal human emotions after all. 

“Um, PG-13, I t-think,” you stammer, painfully aware of the actors continuing to make out topless on the television. “My parents are gone for the weekend, anyway.”

“Oh.” 

It’s not until the scene is over that you and Rin both let out a sigh of relief, as if the tension could finally escape your bodies. You sink into the cushions, glad that you and Rin decided to sit on opposite sides of the couch. Otherwise, you would’ve been even more aware of his presence and curious about his kiss. 

Neither are good things to focus on. 

When the movie ends, you wipe away a stray tear at the conclusion. Of course, Rin was right about the entire plot, but that didn’t make it any less amazing. 

“So, what’s your rating?” you ask once the credits finish rolling. 

“For a movie that’s not horror, maybe a four.”

“Damn, tough crowd,” you say with a tsk. “I loved it! I would give it at least an eight.”

“You’re too generous,” retorts Rin. “What’s your summary?” 

You rattle off the happenings of the movie from start to finish, even going so far as to talk about your favorite moments.

When you finish talking, Rin nods, looking pleased with himself. “So you understand. We didn’t even use Japanese subtitles.” 

“You’re right!” you exclaim, eyes full of excitement as you exchanged glances with him. “I’m definitely ready for the exam! I feel so much more confident in English comprehension already.”

“Told you you’d pass with me as your tutor.” 

“I haven’t passed yet!” 

“But you will,” he says, his tone overly-confident. He would be insufferably arrogant if he didn’t have the skills to back it up. Luckily for him, he did. “Soon, I won’t need to tutor you anymore.”

A barely-there frown crosses your face at the reminder. 

Would there be no reason to see each other outside of school once you passed the class? 

Something about that unsettles you. 

Minutes of silence pass before Rin waves his hand in front of your face. “Hello?”

You swallow, forcing a smile. You don’t need to be thinking about that right now. “Sorry, I just spaced out there.”

“I can tell,” he says, somewhat amused. “It is getting late, maybe you need some sleep.”

That isn’t the case, but you nod in agreement. 

“I’ll head home, then,” Rin states, standing up and slipping his jacket on. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You wave, walking him to your door and watching him walk away. “See you! And thanks for the help.” 

He looks back briefly, raising his hand in acknowledgment and even that single shared glance is enough to send jitters through your body. 

Closing the door, you rest your head back and groan. There’s no point in lying to yourself anymore. Not after you literally fantasized about making out with him while he was sitting right next to you. 

You have a crush on Rin. And you are so screwed. 

“Rin! I passed! Look, look!” you exclaim, holding your test paper out excitedly. 

Class just ended and the teacher handed you your text back with a swift, “Nice job.” That might’ve been the best compliment you received in this class all year. 

Naturally, the first person you wanted to show it off to was the one who helped you get the grade in the first place, Rin.

He pauses at your desk, peering closely at the grade on your test and nodding once. His lips are turned up in the slightest smile and he ruffles the top of your head. 

“You did it,” he says. 

You smooth down your hair, trying not to pay too much attention to how nice and warm his hand was. “All thanks to you.”

“I know.” Rin begins to walk to his next class and you follow along, bouncing on the balls of your feet nervously. “You did good too, I suppose” 

“Gee, thanks,” you remark dryly. Still, an excited cheer comes out of you. “I don’t need to stay after graduation! How great is that?”

“You can enjoy your summer before we are thrown into adulthood.” 

“I know!” you chirp. “And I really couldn’t have done it without you. Hey, how about… Never mind.”

Rin pauses, hanging around the hallway instead of entering his next lesson. He lifts an eyebrow in question. “How about what?” 

The words get stuck in your throat as you open your mouth, your nerves getting the better of you. You aren’t someone who finds it easy to confess, and you know Rin’s track record with confessions isn't exactly great. 

Yet, you want to ride the momentum of this excitement and ask. It’s now or never.

You take a deep breath before you ask, “How about I treat you to some dinner this Saturday? You know— As a thank you for your help.”

You can barely look Rin in the eye as he stares at you, cheeks dusted pink. 

“I told you before we started you don’t need to give me anything in return,” he insists. 

Immediately, your face falls. Of course, he would say no. At least he sugarcoated it for you instead of his typical cutthroat rejections…

“But, we can still get dinner this Saturday.” 

You lift your head in surprise. 

“It’ll be my treat, though.” 

You blink. “Like a…? As in a…?”

Rin’s brows furrow at your nonsensical mutterings. “A what?” 

“A…” 

“Can you say it already?”

“A date?” you blurt. 

He snorts, shaking his head in amusement. “Now, was that so hard to say?” 

You pout at his teasing, sticking your lower lip out as he chuckles. “Hey. Don’t be mean.”

“Sorry,” he amends, though his smirk tells you he’s not actually sorry. “The answer is yes.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a date.”

“Really?!” you ask, unable to contain your excitement. Before he can even reply, you bounce closer to him, throwing your arms around his waist as giving him a hug. 

He stiffens for a moment before slowly returning your embrace. Rin’s hand rests on the small of your back and you want nothing more than to stay like this. 

Until the bell rings and snaps some sense into you. 

You jolt at the sudden ring and Rin coughs to hiss his embarrassment at the public display of affection. 

“Oh, shit! I’m late. So late,” you cry, holding the strap of your book bag and spinning around frantically. “Bye, Rin! Let’s talk about our date after school!”

“I’ll see you after practice then,” he calls out as you run off. “We can plan it while I walk you home.”

Your cheeks heat up and you feel thankful he can’t see the embarrassment evident in your expression. Who knew Rin could be smooth like that? Saying he’ll take you out on a date and walk you home today so casually? 

It’s another side of him you want to get to know more about.

There are times he can be an asshole, and honest to the point of being uncaring. But he’s also surprisingly nice at times. And even patient.  You hope the next layer for you to unravel, which is perhaps the most exciting of all, is to learn how Rin is as a boyfriend. 

You giggle to yourself at the thought. Would he be teasing and mean? Or doting and affectionate? Maybe a bit of both.

Shaking your head, you stop yourself from fantasizing. It’s just one date, that doesn’t mean he’s your boyfriend yet. But you’re in no rush. The most fun part is the journey it takes to get there.

[yolli-es]

Could you possibly write fluff alphabet prompts for the lovely girl Jinx :3

Fluff Alphabet Jinx ❣️

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2 (if you haven't watched it yet), mention of violent acts, psychological problems.

My heart is broken, so I hope this helps heal yours.. Perhaps I misunderstood the request and/or points.

Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

Touch, touch, touch.

Does this all the time and expects the same from you. Jinx can never help it, she won't even try. Every time you're lost in thought, she'll take your hand and play with your fingers. Gently, lightly, and casually. You won't even notice, but she can do it for hours.

Jinx is very attached to you and never leaves you for more than an hour unless absolutely necessary.

Just let her do it.

Best friend: What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

Spontaneous. She often said something strange, and after looking at your face, she laughed awkwardly and quickly changed the subject. She came up with strange, sometimes too childish games to have fun and too dangerous to strengthen your relationship.

Like your first meeting. Don't be surprised if you bumped into her or she suddenly tried to steal something from you and then you became friends. This is Jinx.

You quickly got used to it.

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

Hug, hug, hug.

Jinx has received many hugs in her life, but never one that was so meaningful and necessary to her. Vi and Silco were important to her, but you have a deeper connection with her. Every hug reminds her that she is not just existing. It gives her strength and faith in her better side.

If she could, she would do it forever. It doesn't matter how, gently or harshly, with love or joy. The main thing is that it's you.

Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

Surprisingly, Jinx is good at cooking. But only because she is picky. Yes, Zaun is not a buffet, but she knows exactly what she wants and how she will get it. She will not let you eat something garbage.

And yet, she just doesn't see the point in cleaning. Haven't you seen her lair?

"If it's dusty, you don't need it; what's the problem, toots?"

Ending: If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

No way.

It would be the end of the world. Break up with you after everything she's been through? Forget it. She'll do anything, from murder to rebuilding her personality. Yes, Jinx will resist and say that she won't do it. But she will. She's too scared. You've done so much for her, and she lives and breathes with you.

If you leave her, she will not leave you alone. Jinx will follow you in the shadows. It is unlikely that you will ever know that she is there, unless Jinx herself wants you to know. She will definitely find a way to come back to you, and believe me, you simply will not have a choice.

In case of an unforeseen situation... she definitely won't survive without someone's support.

Fiance(e): How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

Never really thought about it. There's too much going on in her life to think about something as simple and mundane as a wedding.

But that doesn't mean she'll never think about it.

It will be like a sudden walk in Zaun when she suddenly sees a married couple and it dawns on her. Most likely, she will propose to you almost immediately after he thinks about it.

Say yes, and she will throw you the most lavish wedding. In her style, of course.

Say no, and she'll just wait before trying again. 

Gentle: How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

Jinx gives you all the tenderness that is left in her. Every time she tries to be more careful with you, especially when she tries to make it pleasant for you. Hugs, kisses, and games, in most cases, will take place in playful and caring touches.

But emotions are too much. Jinx can't control them, even though she tries. She has a hard time talking about her feelings, especially when they don't match yours. This only makes things worse and makes her feel misunderstand. So in her vulnerable moments, Jinx tries to move away from you, just to avoid scaring you and driving you both into a corner of fear and mistrust.

She's trying; give her a chance and time. You are a good influence on her.

Hugs: Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Jinx hugs you often, and yes, it's the best way to say, "I'm here, and I love you." In most cases, it will do it too tightly; it is quite strong. 

I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

It's complicated. Even when Jinx confessed to you, she couldn't say it without stumbling and biting her lips.

It didn't get any easier with time. It's easier for her to show with actions than to say. She'll make, listen, steal, sew, cook, and anything but say? Oh... And yet, Jinx knows better than anyone how sometimes it is important to hear confirmation that you are loved. 

And she will say it, definitely.

Jealousy: How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

It's so bad that she saw the enemy even in her sister. Just once, it was awkward, but still.

Jinx will definitely know if someone likes you. It must be her magic ability. Then she will be even closer, more aggressive, and talkative. She will lose her shyness even if you don't like it. Jinx might show you off her new gadgets with a hint of "Oh, I have no one to test this on." If the person doesn't understand... well, I think he did.

It's not you; no, she's absolutely certain of your loyalty. The problem is in this world and... in her. She's still Jinx, isn't she?

Kisses: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

She kisses wherever and whenever she wants. Why should she choose or be shy?

Most of the time, these are innocent and quick pecks on the cheek, lips, and neck. Sometimes, you'll get a barrage of quick kisses, so attack back!

The rest of the time, Jinx does not skimp on long and intense kisses. She will always make the first "trial" kiss as if inviting you to continue and giving you the opportunity to say no. She won't object the rest of the time either, but then you will definitely not get rid of her teasing and sad face for the rest of the day.

Everything she does to you, Jinx expects to get in return.

Little ones: How are they around children?

Doesn't notice them most of the time. It's understandable; most of the children here are doomed.

And yet, if the child becomes a little closer to her than a stranger and Jinx sees the child's sincere affection, it will mean that now this is your child. It does not matter whether he has parents or some problems with anything; now this is your child, and Jinx loves him.

In most cases, she will act playfully with the child, playing out the older sister or "kind" parent. But that doesn't mean she won't eliminate any possible threat to the child. Don't underestimate her.

Morning: How are mornings spent with them?

When she wakes up before you, she lies still while you sleep. Maybe she's just thinking about something, or maybe she might be staring right at you. Maybe she's staring at you while she's thinking about something? As soon as she realizes you're about to wake up, she'll wake you up looking like she just got up and is bored.

When you wake up first, it's all up to you. Watch her, and Jinx will definitely be embarrassed about it after waking up. Wake her up, and Jinx will make a displeased face, only to relax you and attack you with a pillow from behind. Fall asleep again, and Jinx will beat you to it.

It won't be boring.

Night: How are nights spent with them?

Depends on Jinx's condition.

If she was even a little restless, the night would be the same. Jinx would wake up and unwittingly wake you. She's sorry; she didn't mean to.

If everything is fine, she sleeps like a hibernating bear. It seems as if even a nuclear explosion could not wake her up.

Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

Talking about your feelings is a real problem for Jinx, let alone her past. Most likely, you already know a lot thanks to rumors in the city. Jinx will not comment on this in any way.

However, time goes by, and you have already been there more than once in the shittiest moments, opened your soul to her in the most difficult moments, and saved her in the most dangerous. The truth about her is the least she owes you.

Jinx starts slowly, from afar, and as if it's not about her at all. And then the story will get deeper and deeper, and you'll see not Jinx but Powder. After that, you'll be truly close.

Patience: How easily angered are they?

Very easy. A few careless words, and she's furious. Don't worry, Jinx won't hurt you. But she and the others may well suffer. She knows that you didn't wish her any harm, but she can't restrain herself.

Quizzes: How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

Jinx knows and remembers absolutely everything. For her, every little thing about you is important and valuable. She never knows where and why it might be useful to her, but she is sure that this is important knowledge. Secrets that she will not share.

Remember: What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

Every moment when she thinks, "I knew I was right about you."

One of those favorite moments was at the very beginning of your relationship. Some bastards were hunting her down and were damn close to catching her. When she was cornered, you showed up as their partner. You gloated and laughed, shook their hands, and even pointed a gun at Jinx. And all this in order to destroy these bastards. It was cruel, dirty, and instructive.

No more such gangs were formed.

She loves you so much.

Security: How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

You won't find a more reliable partner. Jinx will save you at any cost; she is simply unstoppable. She has no fear and no limits when it comes to safety. Zaun does not forgive mistakes.

However, Jinx has never asked and will never ask you for protection. You have saved her many times, and yet she is still convinced that you are fragile and definitely cannot cope on your own.

When it comes to a real fight, Jinx will forget about all the nonsense.

Try: How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

Jinx will pretend that all this is nonsense and that she doesn't care about such trivial things. And then she will invest herself in it as if it is the last thing she will do in her life.

Ugly: What would be some bad habits of theirs?

Blow up anything and anyone.

Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?

She doesn't care.

Of course, she won’t let herself get to the point of becoming a lump of dirt, but she’s indifferent to anything that doesn’t concern hygiene.

Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

Yes, and this is actually tragic.

Jinx tends to get attached to someone and build a very strong bond with them. When you're not around, she's not complete; everything seems to fall out of her hands. Everything that was perfect before doesn't work, and things that Jinx was confident in before are called into question.

She just needs to know how you'll react to anything before making any decisions; Jinx feels empty.

Xtra: A random headcanon for them.

You will definitely get small matching tattoos on your wrists, neck, or stomach. Jinx will be in the most visible place of your bodies. 

She lets you paint her bombs and guns. It's personal to her.

Yuck: What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

Lies. In any form.

Jinx can't trust herself, so what's she supposed to do if she can't trust you? Even if it's a small thing, don't lie to her. It could become too big.

Zzz: What is a sleep habits of theirs?

Lie down on her, or Jinx will throw all her limbs at you. Don't even think about dodging or moving away; she will grab you tighter.

It helps her feel calmer.

Jinx loves you.

Thank you.

[kirain]

Wall of the faithless isn't canon in bg3. They changed alot of things actually. So no Gale isn't "scared" he's just an obsessed asshole who doesn't learn from his mistakes.

Oof...

There's really nothing I can say except: you're wrong. The City of Judgement and the Wall of the Faithless are canon to BG3. If you don't like Gale, that's fine, but you don't have to make things up or completely disregard the lore to do it. Larian Studios literally hired people from Wizards of the Coast—the company responsible for all the canon lore, characters, and campaigns in D&D—to help them with the story. It took them five years, I believe, to fully study and understand the lore. They constantly conferred with the team to double, triple, and quadruple check every slice of content they added to the game, and parts of the game are now considered canon to D&D 5E.

As for Gale "not learning" from his mistakes ... when you first meet him, he literally admits he made a mistake with Mystra. Though personally I don't see it as the "power-hungry" move people seem to think it is. Gale simply wanted to be considered an equal to his partner (really his groomer), which is a perfectly healthy and normal desire for anyone in a relationship. Your partner should treat you like an equal, but Mystra very clearly saw Gale as a pet. A trophy. A worshipper. Subservient. Beneath her. A silly mortal with delusions of grandeur (which she cultivated), which is really rich when you learn she was once mortal herself. Mystra is a hypocrite.

Gale tried to prove himself worthy of equality by trying to bring Mystra what he thought was a piece of her missing Weave. For anyone who doesn't know, the current Mystra was torn to pieces by Cyric and Shar, then put back together by her Chosen. Though back to full power by the events of BG3, she's still technically missing pieces of herself, and Gale mistook the Karsite Weave for one of those pieces. Instead of simply telling Gale it was corrupted Weave, she let him go on believing it was hers. Personally I think that's because she was tired of him (maybe he got too old for her 😒) and was hoping he would do something that, in her mind, would justify abandoning him—but I admit that's full conjecture on my part. What is true is that she knew the orb wasn't hers, but for some reason she let Gale think it was. Even after she abandoned him and left him to die, she never told him. Not until she realised she could use him.

In Act 3, while the argument can certainty be made that he's thirsty for power, Gale ultimately becomes fed up with the gods because, as he knows better than anyone, they treat people like commodities. While I have no intention of ever ascending him myself, it looks like he actually makes good on his word. He doesn't threaten or toy with his followers, he inspires people to walk their own path, he only asks for prayers as payment (as without some form of devotion, gods in D&D cease to be), and if you romance him ... he ascends you into godhood as his equal. Mystra could have done this for him, she just didn't want to. And if you don't want him to ascend, it's genuinely so easy. I don't understand what people are complaining about. It takes one conversation with zero checks to convince him to completely abandon his ambitions. One. If he was truly "power hungry", it wouldn't be that easy.

Again, I would argue that Gale's true goal isn't really power, it's freedom, and divinity gives him that freedom. He has many conversations where he makes it clear he doesn't want to live under the gods' thumbs anymore; which, in a world like Faerûn, is extremely understandable. As I said in my Wall of the Faithless post, he's scared. Eternal torment for a simple mistake, one of which could've been avoided if Mystra told him the truth or treated him like an equal? When your partner is a goddess, how can you not feel inadequate? And if you convince him to give up the crown, he's perfectly content with Mystra's forgiveness. Even in the Early Access, that's all he really wanted.

Gale's far from perfect. He's arrogant and overconfident and insecure and he can be prone to emotional outbursts (most of which he apologises for, however), but he's nowhere near the heartless, power-hungry monster the haters seem to think he is. He is, in fact, one of the most compassionate companions in the entire camp, to the point that he accepts everyone, including Minthara. He votes for Astarion to stay when you find out he's a vampire. He gets mad at you if you surrender him to the Gur. He's one of the only companions who will openly marry/stay with you if you become a mindflayer. He's willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, and willing to damn himself to be with you. He loves every act of kindness, while hating every act of cruelty. I understand that the bugs from launch ruined a lot of people's perception of him ... and unfortunately some of those glitches are still present even now, but he is a good man.

[hellisharchive]

The Most Divine

➤ Drabbles of how Lucifer and Adam would fight over gender neutral reader!

➤ 18+, NSFW

♡...... LUCIFER would take notice of you immediately in the Hotel, from your voice to your body to your eyes, you were beautiful in every sense of the word. He treated you like royalty, like you were the best thing he could have found ever in all his billions of years of existence. He never made any moves on you though, the mental scars from Lillith leaving him still fresh in his mind and heart. You two were both really good friends though and he wouldn't trade that for the world.

♡...... ADAM would take notice of you during your first year in Hell as you were out during extermination day. He hates sinners with his very being due to a certain fallen angel, but something about you enamored him. He managed to find you alone and decides to take his chance. He hit on you and he ended up throughly fucking you in exchange for being spared this year.

♡...... LUCIFER makes sure you're ok after extermination day, you tell him that you ran into Adam and that he spared you, but not the true reason why. It made Lucifer incredibly angry as he knew you were lying, but played it off as he didn't want to be too overbearing and controlling. He was just concerned for you as Adam wasn't the best guy, regardless if he spared you or not

♡...... ADAM decides to watch you from heaven, keeping it a secret from Lute as she would surely scold him and never let him live another day without her disproving self. But seeing you talk and laugh with Lucifer made his blood boil. How dare you move onto that bastard after you just got fucked by the original dick? He didn't expect his attraction to you grow this bad, but it every passing moment when he didn't have important shit do, he watched you and Lucifer be all buddy-buddy.

♡...... LUCIFER would finally confront you about Adam, feeling jealous that he would be so much better in bed than that man. He knew he would treat you right. He watched as you stared up at the sky, knowing you were missing that angel for some odd reason. You admitted it right away, the guilt eating away so badly it was hard to contain. You did miss him despite him really being a terrible person, you did miss him. He shushed you and told you it was ok and that he wasn't mad, he was just concerned if he hurt you in anyway.

♡...... ADAM would reach his breaking point when he sees Lucifer tllt your chin up and say that he would always be there for you. Always make you feel better and always make you feel loved. He couldn't take it. Watching the scene play out with a hug, you two parted ways. Watching and waiting until Heaven's mistake was alone, the first man opened up a portal to Lucifer lounging on his couch on his phone when he looked up, not surprised at the sight before him.

♡...... "Well if it isn't the first man. Been a while since Eden? How've been? Fucking my people you swore to kill every year?"

♡...... "Shut the hell up! You stole Lillith from me. You stole Eve from me. You will NOT steal them from me!"

♡...... LUCIFER stood up then, despite his shorter stature, he walked right up to Adam with a smirk. He wasn't going to back down. He wasn't scared of this asshole. Even if he was scared to let you in, he still loved you very much and didn't want you wasting your time here in Hell with this man.

♡...... ADAM simply looked down at him, letting his anger be very known to the fallen angel. The key word is fallen. He was a traitor to everything good, and Adam would show you everything good and more if you let him instead of Lucifer.

♡...... "You think they were screaming your name? Last night, we were going so hard they cummed multiple times on my face just from my tounge" It was a lie, you both never had any sex at all, but he wanted Adam to feel intimated.

♡...... "That's a fucking lie. I've been watching them and you laugh and joke but never fuck. At least I actually fucked them unlike your coward ass. How's Lillith by the way? She really seems to love being with you, prick"

♡...... LUCIFER was going to quip back as the snide about his ex-wife especially upset him, but the door opened and you walked in sleepily and asked what was going on while rubbing your eye. Every one of you froze as the situation was becoming apparent to you as you woke up. He watched as you started to panic, knowing that this situation got too out of hand. You rushed up and demanded what was going on in a half sleep state. He was too angry to fully appreciate how adorable you were like that.

♡...... ADAM didn't feel threatened by your prescence at all, in fact, this was going to work in his favor. Smirking, he sauntered up behind your smaller form and wrapped his hands around your shoulders, leaning down and asking in a soft voice if Lucifer ever fucked you. You said no and shook your head. He could tell by the fact that you were shaking that you were very anxious yet thrilled at what was happening. He knew you liked Lucifer, he was just too much of a pussy to take what he wants. It's ok though, more for him.

♡...... LUCIFER hated how Adam defaulted to sex instead of what a real relationship is and its far more than lust. It was always being there for them, helping them, ensuring they were safe and loved. Not someone who fucked them and stalked them. But the ruler of Hell would play his game. Walking closer to your caged in self, he got right up in front of your face with a certain type of smirk you've never seen him wear before. However, his attention was turned above your head to Adam as the taller angel rested his head on top of yours.

♡...... "What's big shot doing now huh?"

♡...... "How about this? We both fuck them at the same time and see which one of us they like better"

♡...... "Deal"

[d1gitalwitness]

Moiraine & Lan in The Wheel of Time

I am really enjoying the development of Moiraine and Lan's relationship in the third season of The Wheel of Time. Part of Moiraine is incapable of accepting that there are people who love and care for her fully and deeply - she bonded with Lan because she knew that he was strong enough to continue on without her.

She wants Lan to live, and she will hurt Lan in the most ruthless way if that means that he will live. This is who Moiraine is. Her cruelty to Lan in the books is extreme, and even unforgivable, but she loves him enough to do it just so that he may live. But this is changed in the series, which charts their dynamic with more gentleness and understanding of where Moiraine and Lan are coming from.

Before going to the eye of the world, Moiraine tells Lan that she likes Nynaeve. Unbeknownst to him, it was her way of saying that she wants him to move on, have a life, and be happy. It was a farewell before she breaks the bond and goes on a suicide mission; she does not want Lan to be collateral damage. She does not want Lan to die for her.

This is also why Moiraine was extremely cruel to Lan after believing she was stilled. She was completely exposed and violated when Ishamael shielded her and for the first time, she experienced the very real and very dangerous stakes of her mission. If Lan had been there, he would have died, and I think this truth scarred Moiraine so deeply that she was unable to face him, unable to face the life that she had brought him into when they bonded. The violence that she was inflicting on the few people she cares about was too much. Siuan and Moiraine were forced by fate to sacrifice their love and possibly their futures to find the Dragon Reborn. Lan still had a choice to save himself. But Moiraine didn't want to Lan to stay and she knew that he would. So she rips that choice out of him by leaving first - both in S1 and S2 - believing that he'd be better off without her.

They were never equals, because from Moiraine's perspective, Lan chose to be with her. He had zero stakes in the mission, at least not in the way she and Siuan did. This sacrifice and choice, in her eyes, made him braver than she ever would be. It is also the reason why she leaves him behind. Moiraine has never seen herself as anyone important - she is merely a spoke in the wheel, committed to justice - but here Lan was, choosing to be with her because he believed in her.

There is an incredible scene, in 2x07, when Lan tells Moiraine: "You have to trust somebody at some point. And if it's not going to be me, I thought it might at least be [Siuan]." Rosamund Pike is transcendent, as her ruthless facade transforms into something in-between sadness and tenderness. Lan is the only person in the whole world who truly understands what Siuan means to her. What Lan doesn't know, however, is that Moiraine cannot face Siuan because her failure means failing Siuan and their dreams of a happier future. This failure cut Moiraine deeper than simply not saving the world. By letting Ishamael out, she destroyed Lan's dreams to be with Nynaeve and Siuan's dreams to live by the river. She cannot face failing them. But she faces Lan eventually because he shows up for her and forces her to confront her mistakes and her guilt. Because that is what you do for the people you love - you show up over and again.

"We won't be here forever. We'll serve out our time and then we'll retire." // "Do you mean that?" // "Yes."

Fast forward to Season 3, when Lan and Moiraine have reconnected and Moiraine finally understands that Lan made a choice to be with her and she cannot take away that choice. He sacrificed his future, just like she did, for something and someone he believed in. They are on the same page now. Moiraine goes into the rings and realises that she will die, but this time, she doesn't isolate Lan. She tells him exactly what will happen, and trusts that he is able to handle it. Sometimes love is about being vulnerable and having faith that the other person will embrace these vulnerabilities. It is a beautiful development of their bond - Moiraine is still a guarded woman, but she is giving Lan a choice to leave if he wants to. Of course, he chooses to stay. So together they face the impossible.

Before her fight with Lanfear, Moiraine consults Lan, and they strategize how to defeat her. He might die in this fight, but this is his choice. She might die in this fight, and his grief might consume him, but this is his choice as much as it is hers. And it all comes down to choices in The Wheel of Time. Melindhra broke her dark oaths because she cannot bear to kill last living king of Malkier. Siuan chose to love Moiraine knowing that she may be executed and stilled for treason.

It is the ability to choose which gives our life meaning and for the first time, I think, Moiraine and Lan are making these choices together, ready to accept the tragedy that might come their way. When Moiraine was in the rings for days on end, Lan tells Egwene that she would have wanted him to stay. There is a tacit understanding from Lan that Moiraine would want him to live instead of going in after her when it wasn't necessary.

I also adore the little moments of levity in Season 3 between Moiraine and Lan, where Lan feels how lonely Moiraine has been, and encourages her to engage in a one-night stand with another woman. He's probably joking - he is fully aware that Moiraine's love for Siuan is total and abiding - but it adds layers to their friendship; she is allowed to be open about Siuan, and about her sexual desires. This is a side of her and him that we have not seen before, and it is remarkably tender. I think this season has been extremely well-thought out in continuing Moiraine and Lan's arc from the last season, and somehow manages to enrich their relationship even further.

[drunkinyourbenz]

୨ৎ a footnote in your life. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x best friend!singer!reader

୨ৎ genre: angst

୨ৎ content: unrequited love, tension

୨ৎ note: part of my superache collection <3 based off the song footnote!!

୨ৎ wc: 1.5k

you knew better than anyone that your feelings for billie were unrequited. it wasn’t hard for you to see—if anything, it was painfully obvious. you were almost certain that she knew of your feelings too, that she was aware of how you felt and couldn’t bring herself to feel the same. 

in fact, you knew full well that she knew. you remembered the time at a party where you had the drunk slip up, the memory haunted your every living moment. “i love you,” you had murmured under the lights, just drunk enough to be stupid with your words but not enough to ever forget the moment. 

billie had simply smiled. “oh girl, sober up. you don’t know what you’re talking about.” why would you have lied? everyone could see the hearts in your eyes when you looked at her, everyone knew. she knew. so why? why did she keep pretending it wasn’t real?

still, those were the only words that left her mouth before she’d driven you home and helped you to bed—she’d even left you breakfast for the morning. she really made it impossible not to adore her with your whole soul.

mortified by her casual reaction, you had lied to her face when she asked you if you remembered. “remember what?” you had simply asked, and billie hadn’t noticed the way your hands were fiddling behind the back and your heart was beating out of your chest. of course she hadn’t noticed. she didn’t care enough to notice. 

she seemed almost relieved that you ‘couldn’t remember’, she had dropped the topic without another word and continued with her day like normal. you hadn’t, however, because to you the world had just ended. 

that was four months ago now, and you were still infatuated with her.

despite it being so clear that this adoration was unrequited, you couldn’t simply stop liking her. you’d tried—tried to push your feelings under the rug, to focus on your friendship. because you adored your friendship with her—she was kind, funny, perfect. maybe you needed to stop loathing the friendship, considering that you’d never be more than that. maybe you needed to be grateful to have such a kind, funny, perfect girl as a friend, rather than acting as if you were above having just a friendship with her, as if you deserved more.

you were trying. trying to be happy with what you had, because you knew that having her in your life was more than most could dream of. that didn’t stop the yearning that took over whenever it was late at night and you were alone in your room. it didn’t make the countless songs you’d written about her any less soul crushing, any less meaningful. 

one evening, you were out for dinner with the tour group—you were an opener for billie’s europe leg of her tour, and you fit into the group as if you’d always been there. that made it worse, because why did you have to get along with her friends? with her mother? if nothing was to come of the two of you, if you were destined to remain simply friends, why did you fit so perfectly into her life? you’d entangled yourself in the spiderweb of billie’s life, you played karaoke with her friends and you traded recipes with maggie.

you would be perfect together, if only she could see it.

as you sat in the restaurant, in between billie and jane, billie leaned into you and whispered something in your ear with a soft and contagious giggle. your lips curled up into a smile, and you whispered back to her. it was moments like these that kept you on that high, that kept you hopeful despite it being truly hopeless. 

you were shaken out of your lovestruck trance by the voice of a waitress, “some wine for the cute couple? it’s on the house.” 

billie’s head snapped up, and an amused smile spread over her lips, “thank you.” she turned to you with that expression, the carefree smile that showed you that this was merely a source of entertainment—she didn’t think anything of the fact that everyone thought you were together, because why would she? she laughed softly when the waitress had left, “everyone thinks that, it’s so funny.” 

but it wasn’t funny, not to you. to you, the fact that everyone saw the two of you the way you wished you were was like twisting the knife. you were perfect together, you and billie. but she didn’t see it, so you’d never be the one, not in any lifetime. 

but you forced out the words, “yeah,” with a smile plastered on your face. “it’s hilarious.” it wasn’t hilarious. in fact, it made your stomach twist and your heart clench. the mere thought of the fact that she found this funny, and that you’d never be hers….well, it left a sour taste in your mouth. you’d lost your appetite, so the wine they had given the two of you wouldn’t be going to much use. billie poured you a glass, and you simply shook your head and passed it to jane instead. 

you were quiet for most of the dinner, and maggie had turned to you during a moment where billie was talking to ava, “you alright, dear?” 

with a heavy swallow and yet another smile plastered over your face, you nodded. “yeah, i’m okay.”

maggie knew you weren’t, she could see through that. she too was well aware of the feelings you were harbouring for her daughter, and you could feel the sympathy. part of you hated the sympathy, the fact that everyone pitied you. you weren’t the only one in love with billie, and surely you’d grow out of that adoration at some point. 

the dinner passed in a blur, and when you’re back to your hotel, billie tugged you into her room, flopping down on the bed and looking up at you from where she lay on her back. her lips were painted with a smile, one side pulled up ever so slightly more than the other as her eyes followed you around the room. she was talking about some movie she watched, her words falling from her lips and barely making their way to you. you were trying to listen, but her voice was soft and sweet, and her hair was splayed out on the bed underneath her… you were painfully aware of the things that you wanted so badly but could never have, so when she finished talking about the movie, you spoke. 

“did you enjoy tonight?” 

the question was simple, but you both knew what you meant. some wine for the cute couple. some wine for the cute couple. some—

“yeah! it was fun, the food was amazing.” she spoke with a slight grin on her lips, “the waitress was so sweet, it’s funny how everyone thinks that.” 

your eyes travelled to the floor near your feet and you exhaled softly, a barely noticeable reaction to her words. looking back at her, you spoke, “do you remember that one night a few months ago?” 

her brows furrowed, and you felt a pang of guilt for ever lying to her, even though it was undoubtedly for the better. “i thought you said—”

“i’m sorry, i do remember. but…”

“sweetheart…”

your heart twisted at the pet name, because it truly was like she held your heart in her hands. you could feel it breaking and she wasn’t even trying to break it. perhaps that was the worst part. billie loved you. billie was your best friend. but she didn’t—couldn’t—love you in the way you wanted. 

interrupting her words, you spoke softly. “i meant what i said that night.” 

“so you…”

“yeah…”

billie was sitting up now, her hands clasped loosely in her lap as she watched you—with that same sympathy in her eyes that maggie had shown earlier. 

“...i’m sorry.” 

“do…you think you’d ever… y’know…” you trailed off, but she knew what you meant.

“oh honey, i…” she sighed, “i love you so much. you know that. you’re my best friend. but i don’t think i could love you like that. i don’t want to make you think that it’ll happen. i’m sorry…”

you shook your head, “no, it’s okay. i get it. i shouldn’t have brought it up, i already knew the answer.”

“oh sweet girl, i really am sorry-”

“billie, stop. it's okay. i understand. just…” you trailed off once again before speaking softly, “just don’t forget me, yeah?”

and just like that, you left the room. all the lyrics you’d written for her, all the songs? well, they would remain a part of your heart forever. billie was permanently etched into your heart—a never ending love that you’d never truly be able to part from. billie was the one for you. but you weren’t the one for her, and that was the harsh truth of life.

 is it truly better to love and lose than never love at all? with how this was making you feel, you doubted it.

but it was okay, as long as you at least got a footnote in her life. as long as she didn’t forget you. 

so i'll just take a footnote in your life

and you could take my body

every line i would write for you

but a footnote will do

୨ৎ tags: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes @amara-eilish @dragoneyelashart @greenbttrflyy @billiessillywife @tan1shere @asothinking @ilovealiceosemann

[tinylilacbun]

Ok so what about big brother Rafe and the youngest cameron where she is like 3-5 years old, she is just loves her big brother so much, and dont understand why is everyone afraid of him. Also rafe is only soft when it comes to her😭💞

Big, Bad, and Scary?

Pairing: brother!rafe cameron x toddler!sister!reader

Warnings: none I guess?

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It was no secret that you love and look up to Rafe, of course you do, he's your big brother after all. It's just that with everyone else he seems to be intimidating, a crazy spoiled rich boy with short temper who only seeks his father's approval.

But with you, with you he's patient and almost instantly drops what he's doing the second he hears you call for him. Somehow only you get to see a side of Rafe that no one gets to experience. Maybe it's because you look at him like he's the only person in the world, that you just want to spend time with him.

He doesn't get it. With what does he deserve all your adoration and love for him? He didn't exactly do anything to deserve that except for listening to the things you got to say and simply existing.

Rafe can't complain though, it's nice to have someone who actually appreciates him or isn't judging him even if you're just a four year old who doesn't know better and only wants to spend time with her brother, not knowing how messed up he really is.

The scary thing is he could be shouting and having an angry fit in one second but the moment you enter the room he's calm again, afraid to scare you and destroy the bond he has with you.

"God, Top, could you stop your fucking whining already?" He snaps into his phone, standing on the balcony with one hand resting on the railing, the other gripping his phone tightly.

As Topper on the other line keeps complaining he hears your small feet toddle behind him, feeling you tug on his shirt a second later. He looks down, holding the phone away from his ear. "Yes?"

You only raise your arms in response, making grabby hands. The request is clear and Rafe sighs, balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder he bends down to pick you up.

As you place your head on his shoulder he focuses back on his call, taking a deep breath, your mere presence alone has him a lot calmer. "A'ight, listen, we both know who did that and make sure he regrets it. Just- I'll text you soon. Yeah, bye."

He ends the call, pocketing his phone and turns his attention to you. "So, what's up with you, hm?"

"S'nap time, Rafey." You mumble, a yawn escaping your lips and without another word he walks back inside, making his way to your room.

You would notice when people avoid looking at Rafe, rushing past him to not accidentally set him off somehow. Like at the beach, you're just building a sand castle with Rafe sitting beside you, busy on his phone when you see a group of boys walking past, glancing at you both and suddenly speaking to each other in hushed voices.

You furrow your brows, looking over your shoulder and watching them for a moment longer when Rafe pokes your side. You turn back to look at him. "Rafey?"

"Yeah...?"

"Why people look at you like that?" You ask, tilting your head.

"Like what exactly?" He puts his phone aside to give you his full attention.

"Dunno...they always look at you weird." You mumble, mindlessly working on your castle.

"Oh, uh-" He scratches his chin, thinking about how to explain it to you. "Y'know...some people are just- surprised I guess. It's nothing bad, you don't need to worry 'bout that."

You nod seeming to accept his explanation, placing the last sea shell on top of your sand castle to finish it up.

One day Rafe took you to that outdoor movie thing that has been organized. It's unsettling how he can still look intimidating with you sitting on his lap, your legs swinging back and forth on each side of his, giddy with excitement.

"When's it gonna start?" You ask craning your head to look up at him.

"Soon, kid. Just be- hold on. Top, look over there." Rafe stops mid sentence, nudging Topper's shoulder and pointing in the direction of Pope and JJ. "Told you they'd be here."

"Yeah, great, what do you think we can just go over there and give them a mindful?" He remarks sarcastically.

"Course not you dumbass." Rafe rolls his eyes, noticing you trying to reach for your cup that was on the ground beside his chair. He grabs it, handing it to you. "We gotta wait for the perfect moment to surprise them."

After it got dark, you were still engrossed in the movie that was playing and munching on the popcorn with your back resting against Rafe's front. You make a sound of protest when he suddenly stands up, placing you to sit on his seat before crouching down in front of you.

"I'll be right back. Stay here and don't talk to anyone, okay? I won't be long." He makes sure you nod before standing straight again, ruffling your hair and walking off with Topper.

Your moment of concern of them being away is gone the second you focus back on the movie. Everything was well when suddenly the screen caught fire, people jumping up gasping and shouting in surprise.

You jump in your seat at the sudden commotion, looking around frantically and tearing up but don't dare to get up. Rafey told you to stay.

Speaking of Rafe, he was behind said screen after his little altercation with the two pogues. His eyes wide as he notices the fire, snapping out of his adrenaline haze as Topper slaps his shoulder.

"Dude, your sister..." He reminds him.

"Shit-" Rafe doesn't think twice, running off to where he left you, his anger forgotten the second Topper mentioned you. Stupid, he is so damn stupid. Leaving his little sister alone just because he felt like messing with the pogues.

He quickly finds you, feeling guilty the moment he sees your distressed expression and the tears running down your cheeks. Immediately he picks you up, placing his hand on the back of your head to cradle you against his chest.

"Shh, you're okay. I'm sorry, I'm here now..." He murmurs, starting to walk towards where his truck is parked, rubbing your back the whole way there.

Your crying subside to quiet hiccups but still cling onto his shirt tightly. He leans against the truck, still trying to soothe you by murmuring softly in your ear and holding you securely in his arms.

"There we go, all good now?" He asks as you pull away, his thumb wiping away some of your tears. You nod, the moment of shock disappearing as exhaustion takes over. "Let's go home."

He turns around and opens the back door, getting you settled in your car seat and buckling you in. Rafe kisses the side of your head before shutting the door, running a hand through his hair with a sigh when he sees Topper approaching him.

"She good?" He asks, obviously concerned about you.

"Yeah...just a little spooked but she's fine. I'm gonna get her home now, see you on the golf course." Rafe pats him on the back, rounding his truck to get in the driver's seat, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. You're already knocked out cold and he smiles at that, turning on the engine.

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Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

[sunsetchicane]

i love you, i'm sorry [QH43]

quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: two years after breaking things off with Quinn, you find yourself going to Game 1 of Round 2 of the Playoffs, completely unprepared to see the man you still harbour feelings for.

based off of: this is loosely based off of I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams

warnings: aggressive amounts of pining (like, probably annoying), two swear words, a few kisses, mentions of a breakup (so like, kinda angst? idk man), copious amounts of cheesiness, probably extremely inaccurate descriptions of the game, not great writing lol. let me know if i missed anything!

author's note: okay, i haven't written anything on here yet due to a horrendous case of writer's block and many hours of working. so, this is definitely not my best work, but it was a fun way to try move past my writing slump. i really do hope that anyone who reads this does enjoy! love, addi <3

Vancouver’s streets preserve memories well. You found that out when, even two years after things had fallen to pieces, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the two of you holding hands, sharing quiet laughs, and stealing kisses. You’d thought that after two years you would’ve been able to shake those memories off when they plagued your mind; but it was hard when he was plastered across banners and fans sported his jersey for half the year. 

He was making his name known throughout the NHL, and you couldn’t ignore the buzz around Quinn Hughes when the Canucks made it to the Stanley Cup Playoffs. 

After you and Quinn had broken things off, you had to find separate friend groups to belong in. The two of you had shared too many mutual friends. The group of ladies you did manage to find yourself among knew nothing about your past relationship with the captain of the Canucks. When the city was gearing up for the first round of the playoffs, even your friends couldn’t stop talking about the sport. 

You were standing outside, leaning against the railing on a BC ferry, returning from visiting family on the Island, when you received a call from your friend Lydia. You picked up without hesitation. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. 

She immediately giggled, which honestly had you a little scared. “I have a surprise,” she said excitedly, the last word dragged out. 

You snorted. “Am I allowed to ask what it is?” 

“It’s a really big surprise, and you have to promise not to scream when I tell you,” she laughed, acting like a teenage girl again. It was one of the things you really did love about her – her ability to bring childlike joy with her wherever she went. 

“I promise not to scream, Lyd,” you assured her, hoping she was satisfied. 

She paused for dramatic effect, and you let her. You knew she was having fun with it. 

“We’re going to the first game of round 2 of the playoffs!” she squealed. 

Your phone nearly slipped through your fingers, almost lost to the sea. You stepped away from the railing, suddenly very glad there was no one on the deck with you. Your heart clenched in your chest. The last time you had been to a game was when you and Quinn had still been together. He wouldn’t even know you were in the crowd, but you would be painfully aware of him in the centre of the arena. 

“Okay, you’re even quieter than I thought you’d be,” Lydia commented, reminding you that there was someone on the other end of the line. 

You debated for a moment what to say. Would it best to just blurt out that you had dated Quinn Hughes and you were not exactly ready to go watch him play again? Definitely not. 

“Uh, yeah, I’m just surprised!” That wasn’t a lie. “How’d you get the tickets?” 

“My dad,” she said simply. “When I told him I wanted to go see the Canucks, he was suddenly the proudest parent in the world. You know how he is – once he gets an idea in his head, whether it’s planted there by me or not, he has to do it.” 

“Wow, that’s–that’s crazy!” you said stiffly, still unsure of how to act. 

“Yeah, and it gets better! We’re sitting right behind the Canucks’ bench!” 

You nearly choked on nothing. “What?” 

“I know, right? I don’t know how my dad managed it, but he did,” she told you, completely unaware of your stuttering heart. “Who knows, maybe we’ll catch some players’ eyes,” she joked, and you tried to force a laugh out with her. 

“Yeah, maybe.” What you didn’t add out loud was your brain screaming please no. 

After a few more minutes of chatting and you pretending to be completely sound of mind, Lydia said goodbye, telling you she would send the details soon. 

You pocketed your phone and leaned against the railing once more. You watched as the sun brushed the horizon, casting a beautiful pink against the clouds. Vancouver was getting close, and for obvious reasons, you were suddenly dreading it. You wanted to sit on the ferry until it returned to Vancouver Island. 

You sighed and rested your chin on your folded arms. You heard a faint buzzing sound above you, and lifted your eyes to the sky. A plane was coming to land at the Vancouver Airport. As it approached, you let yourself imagine it was Quinn flying back from Nashville, and you felt your heart tighten in your chest once more, because you were terrified to see him again, but also because you still missed him. Maybe you were scared to see him because you missed him. 

You dropped your forehead to your arms once more and groaned loudly, the ocean and the brightening city lights your only listening companions. 

When the morning of May 8th arrived, you found yourself unable to shake the anxiety that had made a home in your chest over the last few days. There was a tenseness in your shoulders that never left, and a squeezing at your heart that seemed relentless. 

The group chat you shared with your friends had been buzzing incessantly, the girls incredibly excited. Every now and then you made your fingers put a message out there that hopefully hid your anxieties from them. 

After much procrastination, you eventually made your way to your closet. After tugging on a simple pair of blue jeans, you reached towards the back of your closet. Your fingers closed around the unmistakable, thick material of the jersey. Taking a deep breath, you pulled it out. Your only Canucks jersey of course, had to be Quinn’s home jersey from two seasons ago. No one would know it was the jersey that he had pulled over his head before every home game. However, you knew. There was no C on the left side of the chest, and your mind was pulled back to the relationship you had shared.  

You often questioned why you and Quinn had even ended things. You missed him so much still, and you were plagued by the way you knew it had been the wrong choice. You had been growing apart as he was dealing with growing attention and expectations within his career, and a promotion at your own job had stolen your energy and attention. You had both been tired and short with one another, and eventually the tension built and had blown up in a terrible way. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force both the guilt and continued yearning out of your busy mind. 

When Lydia texted that she and the girls were on the way to your apartment, you reluctantly pulled the jersey over your head. The sleeves covered most of your hands, and the fabric fell past your hips and part way down your thighs. You pulled on a pair of shoes and left the safe space that was your apartment, locking the door behind you. 

Rogers Arena was packed and the energy in the building made you feel like you could start vibrating. You and your friends held hands so as not to get separated. You were glad when your friends made no comment on how tightly you squeezed their hands, or how sweaty your palms might have been. 

You were made significantly more nervous when you realised that Lydia had not been exaggerating about your seats. You were sitting right behind the bench. 

The arena was filling up steadily, and you sat there in between your friends, not speaking a single word. It had been a couple years since you had been here, and while you were very nervous, the familiarity came rushing back to you and it helped to slow your fast beating heart. 

If you closed your eyes, you could imagine Quinn smiling at you from the other side of the glass, and laughing when you blew him a kiss. 

You wrapped your arms gently around yourself, the once very stiff material of the jersey now very easily shifted and manipulated. You knew it didn’t smell like him anymore, but when you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his old jersey, it was like he was right there. You were wrapped in him still, and you doubted it would ever go away. 

You were shocked out of your own thoughts when your friends, along with the rest of the fans around you, started cheering. The Canucks and the Oilers were on the ice, starting to warm up. Your eyes searched the ice quickly, and gliding easily across the ice on the opposite side of rink, was the captain, the number 43 embroidered on his jersey, just like the one you adorned. 

Your own cheeks heated up when it really hit you that you were wearing his old jersey. You weren’t together anymore; what were you thinking? He could see you– what would he think when he saw you right behind his bench, wearing the jersey he had gifted you?

You suddenly wanted to throw up more than ever. He exchanged a few words with Elias, and laughed at something his buddy had said. Your heart ached in longing once more. You had missed his laugh so much. 

Quinn now had facial hair, something he hadn’t had when he was with you. His hair was longer, peeking out from beneath his helmet. He already seemed much more grown up. He looked like a captain, something who had become used to leading his team. Quinn had always been somewhat confident in his abilities as a hockey player, but it was easy to tell that he had really gotten used to his role on the team and had come into his own over the past two years. 

The girls grabbed your hands and walked into the aisle, just to get right up to the glass. Your face burned and you tried to hide behind some of your friends. You kept your heads down and your arms folded. 

Your friends held up hats and other paraphernalia that they desperately wanted signed by players. 

“Y/N!” One of your friends practically shouted. You suddenly noticed that they had all stopped cheering. You looked up to see them parted in front of you. 

Quinn was on the other side of the glass, looking right at you. 

Your friends shoved you up the glass, giggling and squealing. You nearly ran into the glass from the force of their shoves. Quinn laughed at you, his smile exactly how you remembered it. 

He pointed at the white Canucks towel in your hands and shouted, “toss it over!” The arena was so loud you were glad he had mouthed it clearly. You hesitated but threw the towel over. With one glove off and in the other hand, he caught it. He gestured to one of your friends to throw over the Sharpie she was holding. She did gladly, happy to be included. He caught it easily and started to write quickly on the white fabric. Your heart did flips while watching him, and your hands shook with nothing to hold onto. 

He finally capped the pen and threw both the towel and marker over the glass. You struggled to catch it, but thankfully, you managed to hold onto it. You held it flat before you. 

Meet me by my car after. Usual spot. Your breath stopped slightly when you saw a rushed heart drawn next to the words. You looked back up to see him putting his glove back on. He gave you a warm smile that set you on a fire from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You took a deep breath and nodded to him. His smile widened slightly. Before he turned to skate away, you saw him mouth the words, “nice jersey.” You stuttered for a second, and he simply winked and turned. 

Your friends all screamed and crowded you, looking at the towel. 

“Usual spot? What the fuck is going on?” Lydia yelled over the noise, cackling. 

You just blushed and shook your head, returning to your seat with the towel gripped tightly in your hands. 

As the teams continued to warm up, you explained as quickly as you could that you and Quinn had once been together. Your friends, of course, were shocked but also very excited for you at the prospect of reuniting with him. You simply waved your hands in protest. 

“I don’t even know if he wants to get back together with me! He might just want to catch up or something… we’re cool now and I don’t want to mess anything up.” 

“Girl, please!” one of your friends shouted. “He drew a motherfucking heart and winked at you! Of course he wants you back.”

You all laughed and you embraced the next blush that warmed your cheeks. 

The players left the ice, and minutes later, the lights went dark. The deafening sound of nearly 19,000 people screaming almost broke your eardrums. Blue light filled the room, and you looked up to see what was playing on the large screens above you. 

You watched the intro video and let a nostalgic, giddy feeling overtake you. You couldn’t help but smile. 

The arena fell back into nearly full darkness. You heard the beginning of a familiar sound of twinkly guitar that dragged you right back to 2011. Goosebumps rose up along your skin all over your body. That was the last time the Canucks had made it to the Playoff finals, and you hoped dearly that they could get there again. The playing of Where The Streets Have No Name from their intro from 2011 made hope take hold of you.

You couldn’t help but raise your particularly special white rally towel in the air to wave alongside all of the other Canucks fans in the building. 

It had been surprisingly easy to get into the players’ parking garage. Despite it being two years since you had been in the building, you were recognized by several people, who let you walk wherever you wanted. 

Your friends had practically shoved you to go after the game, screaming after you to call them later. You had laughed and walked away, your steps lighter than they had been in a long while. 

You later found yourself standing by Quinn’s car. It was the same one he’d had when you had been together. Your hand brushed the shining hood of the car, and you could see yourself in the passenger seat, laughing at something he’d said as the two of you drove around downtown Vancouver. 

“Thank God you actually showed up.” 

You whipped around, seeing a freshly showered Quinn in sweatpants and a hoodie making his way towards you. 

You tugged on the hem of the jersey, your heart beating quicker and quicker with every step he took. 

He stopped in front of you, and when you looked up, you both spoke. 

“I love you.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “You-what?” 

He bit his bottom lip before repeating himself. “I love you. I know it’s been two years, but-” 

“I love you, too,” you said quickly, blood roaring in your ears. “And I am so, so sorry. I never should’ve-” 

It was his turn to cut you off. “Don’t apologise, please. It’s not your fault.”

“Can you… can you please accept my apology, at least?” 

He smiled softly. “I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.” 

“I forgive you, too,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling with affection as you looked at him. You felt an intense relief flood your body. Your shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. He reached out and wrapped you in a warm hug. You melted into it, returning the gesture. 

“I missed you. So much,” you mumbled into his hoodie. 

One of hands gently scratched the back of your neck like he used to do. “I missed you, too.” He pulled away just enough to lean down and kiss your lips softly. Nothing had ever felt so natural. His playoff beard scratched your face and you laughed at the sensation, pulling away. 

“Not used to the beard,” you admitted, smiling widely. 

He smiled, too. “Yeah, what do you think? Should I keep it around?” 

You shrugged, leaning back into him. “Well, you’re very handsome either way.” 

“You think?” 

“Mhm. Your hair also looks very good. I like it longer like this,” you told him, ruffling his brown hair. He swatted your hand away and kissed your cheek. 

“Noted.” He looked down at me again. “Should probably get you a new jersey.” 

“Hm, you think I need the big ole C on here, Captain?” 

He shook his head, blushing. “Don’t call me that.” 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, bringing his head down for you to kiss. “Couldn’t help myself.” You grabbed his hands. “Congratulations on the big win, by the way.” 

“I can’t believe you came. I thought I was hallucinating or something when I saw you,” he told you honestly. 

“Well, I’m glad I came,” you admitted, running a hand through his hair. 

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, smiling wider than you had seen all night. 

You laughed, feeling pure joy in your heart. “I think I might have an idea.” 

[meadowfics]

discrimination

kang sae byeok x f!reader

you've accepted your girlfriend from the start, when no one else did

warnings: this fic is simple background on your relationship with sae but it goes into more detail of sae-byeok and her north korean background too since it is important to her character <3.

from the first moment you met sae byeok, you knew she was different.

not in the way everyone else seemed to think, not because she was north korean instead of south

its because of the way she carried herself...like she had already survived a thousand battles before even stepping into the room.

the woman's nonchalant-like personality wasn’t cold, it was heavy.

while others looked at her with wariness, their gazes laced with suspicion or quiet judgment,

you looked at her with nothing but admiration.

being north korean in seoul wasn’t easy. people never said it outright, but you could feel the tension in the air whenever someone realized where she was from.

you remember telling your family about it.

your siblings, if you have any, seemed to be fine with it.

however, your parents seemed to be the weary ones.

they've accepted that sae-byeok is in your life, but you get offended when they tell you to, "stay safe" like sae byeok is a threat to you.

all throughout seoul.. people spoke of defectors like they were untrustworthy.

you hated that.

you hated how people could not see what you saw in sae byeok.

because to you, sae byeok was the bravest person in the world.

she had done the impossible..

sae byeok escaped a regime where leaving meant death, crossed borders with nothing but the sheer will to survive, endured things that would have broken most people, and still, she stood for herself, her brother, and for you later.

she never called herself brave, never let herself take pride in what she had done.

to her, it was simply survival.

to you, it was more than that.

she had fought tooth and nail for her life, for her brother, for a chance at something better.

if that wasn’t bravery, you didn’t know what was.

loving her came easy.

despite the way she was guarded, despite the way she kept her emotions locked away like they were something dangerous, you fell for her. hard.

even though she never said the three words, never openly confessed her love in the way others did, you knew.

sae byeok didn’t love you through words...

she loves you through actions.

she showed her love in the way she always waited for you outside after work, even if it meant standing in the cold, hands shoved in her pockets, rocking on the balls of her feet.

she never asked you to text her when you got home safe, but you always woke up to a simple message:

"home?"

if you forgot to respond, she would show up at your apartment unannounced.

she didn’t say "i love you," but she made sure you ate before you left in the morning, even if that meant pushing the last bite of her food onto your plate.

she didn’t say "i need you," but she always moved a little closer in bed at night, curling into your warmth, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your wrist.

she didn’t say "i’m scared," but some nights, when she held onto you just a little tighter, you could feel it in the way her breath stuttered against your skin.

on nights when the world felt unbearable, when money was tight and the weight of everything threatened to crush you both, she would pull you into her arms, pressing a silent kiss to your forehead.

sae byeok had never been one for indulgence. she never bought things for herself, never let herself spend money on things that weren’t necessary.

she had no problem spending on you.

if you mentioned needing a new scarf, she would show up with one the next day, acting like it wasn’t a big deal.

when your shoes were falling apart, she found a way to replace them before you even had a chance to complain.

she never let herself have much, but when it came to you, she gave what little she had without hesitation.

she would never admit it, but she loved taking care of you in the smallest ways.

if she noticed you getting overwhelmed, she would silently take over whatever task was stressing you out.

she rarely let herself be taken care of, but on the rare occasions that she let her guard down, you treasured it.

when her body ached from long shifts, you would pull her onto the couch, forcing her to let you rub the tension from her shoulders.

she would protest at first, grumbling that she didn’t need it, but within minutes, she would melt into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as the weight of the day slowly left her.

when she had nightmares, she never woke you up.

she never wanted to burden you with the things that haunted her.

you always knew.

you felt the way she tensed in her sleep, the way her breath quickened, the way her fingers sometimes clenched into fists.

so, on those nights, you would reach for her, gently running your fingers through her hair, grounding her back to you.

every time, without fail, she would relax, pressing closer to you as if anchoring herself to something safe.

despite everything, despite the hardships, the struggles, the way the world seemed to make things harder for her at every turn, her love never wavered.

it was steady, unshaken, like a constant presence in your life that you could always rely on.

she didn’t need to say it, didn’t need to spell it out in words. because you already knew.

maybe, just maybe, that was what love was supposed to feel like.

not grand declarations, not poetic confessions, but quiet moments of understanding, not the perfect story where both characters have no flaws whatsoever..

no matter how much you both struggled, there was one thing that never struggled...

your love for each other.

masterlist

[citrusandrottefruit]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Over the centuries, many poets, writers, painters, and sculptors were suspected of having Hanahaki. It seemed appropriate for an artist. A disease as poetic as it was tragic.

That's why, despite its rarity, Hanahaki was a famous disease.

Books, movies, plays, songs. It wasn't uncommon to find some portrayal of Hanahaki in the media. Everyone had some romantic and silly idea of ​​what it was like to have Hanahaki.

Usually, this knowledge was limited to emotional triggers and the fact that the sufferer lived with a chest full of roots. Sometimes, people believed that Hanahaki could be cured through love.

Steve hated that idea.

Because he knew nothing would cure him. He could get a lung transplant, a heart transplant, a liver transplant, a kidney transplant, or any other organ that failed. The most likely outcome was his lungs. He would probably need a lung transplant one day, considering how much scar tissue he had accumulated in his chest. Pulmonary fibrosis was a bitch.

But he wouldn't be cured, he would just have more time.

His mother had managed to improve her quality of life by following Mr. Harrington around the world. They even seemed quite happy sometimes. Steve figured that staying away from him, having few feelings for him, helped too, after all, he was one less thing for Mrs. Harrington to worry about, since she put most of her feelings into her husband.

And if not even his mother, who understood him better than anyone else in the world, was capable of truly loving him, who would be?

Hanahaki could not be cured through love, and Steve preferred it that way, or he would have to face the reality that he was not loved as much as he wanted.

But Hanahaki could be controlled as long as he was on medication, treating the complications, monitoring the disease, and having a support network. People who would take care of him, who would not hurt him so easily. Being loved so intensely helped, because his body would understand love. It would not cure the disease, but it would ensure a slower progression, giving his body more time to recover.

The positive side of the Upside Down was this. Steve gained the children, Robin and Eddie. With Eddie, came Wayne. And even Joyce and Hopper cared immensely for him, even if they were more busy being the parents their children deserved. Nancy and Jonathan were a more complicated subject, and yet they were trustworthy.

Steve found himself surrounded by more love, loyalty and protection than he could have ever dreamed of.

The negative side, besides all the trauma, was that having so many people close to his heart meant that each of them had immense power over Steve, and, except for Robin, none of them knew it.

So when Eddie and Wayne left, he smiled and accepted it graciously. He tried to help them move, but his health had become increasingly declining and they rejected any help. Instead, he simply wandered around their new house, watching as the people he had grown to love, who shared so much of his pain, fears, and traumas, helped make it a home.

When he got tired, Steve decided to sit in the garden and eventually fell asleep there.

That was another thing Steve had learned to hate: it seemed like the disease had decided to finish him off. Even though he had been sick for most of his life, everything was manageable, easy to hide except for the flare-ups. When the flare-ups were over, he would bounce back and be his old self again. A tired, aching, constantly medicated young man. Not anymore.

He would have terrible days, get a little better, and then have a worse day. It was like taking 3 steps back, 2 steps forward, and then 2 steps back again.

It had become impossible to go a whole day without taking at least one nap.

When he woke up, restless and with his heart racing, it was still light out, so it couldn't have been that long. Robin was there, staring at him intently through her hair, her eyes a little teary.

"You scared me, Dingus." Steve blinked, still feeling a bit of the brain fog that was becoming more and more common. "Your parents still pay for your health insurance, don't they?"

For the next three weeks, Steve and Robin were absent from activities and meetings with everyone else a lot. Steve because he had to go for tests, Robin because she wanted to be with him through it all.

"It's good that you have such a great girlfriend, Steve." The doctor, who had known Steve for years, commented almost too happily. "It'll be good for your health." The look of pity she usually wore when she met Steve seemed softer.

He had some blocked bile ducts, and they put in biliary stents. His platelets were low, and he received a transfusion. Since there were too many remnants of roots in his chest and throat, Steve had to stay in the hospital for two nights, dissolving and aspirating everything, to make sure he would be okay to go home.

He was also given a vitamin supplement, his medication was adjusted, and he discovered that he would need beta blockers to slow his heart rate and reduce the chances of having an upper gastrointestinal hemorrhage.

They also discussed the possibility of another surgery. Steve refused.

On the way home, Robin tried to convince him to accept it, to remove all the roots, every single one of them. “I don’t want to. With each surgery, there are more scars.”

“Who cares about a few scars? Steve! You… You never did, why now? Nobody gives a shit about that, and if some girl complains about it, she doesn’t deserve you!”

“On my lungs, Robin. I don’t think it’s worth another surgery right now, because it’ll just give me more scar tissue. They’re too deep, so it’s probably better to wait for them to get worse rather than dig through my chest to rip them out. Eventually, I’ll need a transplant, I guess, and I figure it’s better to put off unnecessary risks until there’s no other option. I don’t know. Does that make sense? I don’t want to have another surgery, just to delay the inevitable. Maybe it’s stupid, but…”

He paused, trying to find ways to say what he wanted to say.

“Sometimes I think if I keep doing all this, I’ll be so patched up that there won’t be anything left in the end. It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Steve laughed self-deprecatingly.

After that, they sat in silence until they reached Steve's apartment, and before they went in, Robin grabbed his hand and looked into his eyes with such intensity that he wanted to squirm.

"I'll be your donor, Steve. I have two perfectly healthy lungs."

"Robin…" She swung her arms so aggressively that she almost hit the door, and Steve's hand, which was still between hers, froze in midair. Robin's eyes widened even more, and she pulled his hand again desperately, as if letting go would make him disappear into thin air.

“If I’m not a match, I’ll steal it, Dingus. I swear I’ll steal all the organs you need with my own hands.”

Steve laughed and hugged him, because what else was there to do?

They spent the whole night snuggled up on the couch, watching movies until they fell asleep. Steve, who spent the whole day taking naps and had insomnia at night, woke up after a few hours, as usual, and almost went to Eddie’s room, before he remembered that Eddie wasn’t there anymore.

Steve coughed, just a little, with longing.

He looked at Robin, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, then looked out onto the balcony and, despite his better judgment, woke her up, who was alarmed until she realized he was smiling.

"I’m in love with Eddie."

[razzle-n-dazzle]

Lucifer x F!Reader [Adam’s ExGF]

[context: she’s was an angel created in heaven, and ends up dating adam for a bit this is long after Eden. and ends up leaving him not being able to handle him anymore.]

So~

Another one of his partners is stolen by Lucifer heheh.. she married him and they have a 12 month old baby. Adam being in hell now and is trying to “rehabilitate” is forced to watch his ex partner being happy something he he did so little for her when they were together.

bonus: if Adam snatches the baby’s toy from their hands causing them to cry and everyone to shout at him and argue

. . . 𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘔𝘺 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 Lucifer / AFAB! Reader

‗( content / trigger warning ) not proofread (we die like Adam), AFAB! reader, reader has a kid, technically this is an (yandere?) Adam / Reader hurt fanfic in disguise, It's Helluva/Hazbin there's going to be cursing. ‗( author's note ) I'm going to try and do Lucifer's personality justice here. I had gone back to reread some of my old Lucifer fanfic to see that I mischaracterized him in a rather noticeable way (at least for me), and that doesn't fly here. So let's hope third time is a charm <3

"To be yours was like holding a thorned rose. It was pretty, sure, yet it pierced, stabbed, and bled my hands the tighter I held on to keep it alive. . . So, I let it die."

To say a bone in his body does not loath Lucifer, would be an understatement. Actually, no, it would be the foulest lie that would have ever been uttered. There was nothing in this world that Adam despised more than Lucifer Morningstar; The fallen angel of corrupted dreams, a thief and tainter of pure hearts, the sole creator of sin and everything that is wrong within the world. Simply to put it, if Adam had a chance to fuck as many women as he could want, in all the positions he could ever hope for, or torture Lucifer without a single repercussion until he's dead on hell's floor; He'd choose the latter. After all, who wouldn't hate the guy after everything he did? Well, apparently one person didn't, and Adam couldn't understand why.

You: The love of his life. Adam didn't get it, he really didn't. How could you, one of the most perfect people in creation, end up with someone like . . . Lucifer? And how could, promptly, Lucifer have been the one to end Adam up in Hell! And how, just how, did Adam ever think he needed the help of Lucifer's daughter to quote-on-quote rehabilitate when he's the original dick and would end back in Heaven by default?! And yet, even with all those questions and odds stacking up against him, Adam still found himself sitting at Husker's bar. He still found himself watching as you sat next to Lucifer, holding a literal baby on your lap, while Charlie cooed over her new baby brother. Honestly, he was a second away from slamming his drink down on the counter or across the hotel lobby to hopefully crack Lucifer's skull open. That fucking bastard. He had no right to not only be sitting next to you right now, calling you his lover, but to knock you up with his kid! He didn't deserve you. No one deserved you but Adam and yet you dumbed him! Him! The original dick, the original first man. Pft. It's your loss anyways. He's so much better than what's his stupid fucking face and his stupid fucking kids. Pft, yeah. It's not like he cared at all! After all, he could have that stupid(ly beautiful) grin on your face ten times brighter than Lucifer could ever.

Adam's days were absolutely miserable anytime You and Lucifer came over to the Hotel, as there was little chances of avoiding either of you. Sure, maybe Adam could hide in his room and pretend like he never say either of you on your visit days. Sure, maybe he could go out on the town and possibly meet someone that was ten times better than you. And, sure, maybe he could just do one of the million annoying tasks Charlie had for the residents. Yet, there was still no avoiding either of you. Not for Adam. Because avoiding you would show Lucifer that he won. That he managed not only to take Lilith, yet Even, and now You away from Adam and let it affect him. Adam was not ever giving Lucifer that satisfaction, and he wasn't going to let you have the satisfaction of knowing that he still . . . loves you. Not that you would be paying attention, anyways. You haven't even spared him a glance, other than courteous waves of hellos when Adam was near some of the other residents. So, if you had moved on, so had Adam! And, frankly, much to Adam's dismay, you had. The fall from Heaven hadn't been a pretty one, not at all. The Seraphim had stripped you of your wings, casted you down based on a senseless accusation that could have "threatened the whole order of the Heavens". It was unjust, and it had stung you heavily during the first few months, but you slowly learnt to cope. Finding someone who could share your same pains helped, immensely. Lucifer had been that person for you. The person who, despite everything you had gone through, seemed to always understand where you were coming from; And, likewise, you were that person for Lucifer. You had made Lucifer believe he could fall in love again, and Lucifer had made you believe you could dream again. That you could create without judgement. And, after years of courting, to two years of being fiancés, to the wedding and now a year and a half of being married you two had a beautiful baby boy. And, much like Charlie, he was the little joy of your shared lives. "Ceyx!" Charlie would laugh as her baby brother tugged on her hair. It was a little painful, yet Charlie didn't mind too much. Not when he looked so adorable with his chubby little cheeks and those big round eyes. "Sorry! Sorry, I should have warned you he started his hair pulling phase," You would pull away from Lucifer, who sat besides you, to gently try and coax Ceyx to let go of Charlie's chair. Though, Ceyx apparently only saw this as a fun little game as he let out a spit of babbles and laughs while you were gently attempting to pry his little hands off. "He had only been interested in Lucifer's hair until now." Charlie would wave you off gently, laughing softly, "No, no, it's alright!" As she had to crane her neck slightly so Ceyx's playful tugs didn't feel like he was trying to rip out her hair. A scowl spread on Adam's face, with furrowed eyebrows and hate-filled eyes, as he watched you five from the top of the stairs. This was the second time You had came over in the last week and he got sicker by the passing visit. And this time was no different, his stomach churn with abhorrence, as he watched Lucifer swoop from next to you to in front of your baby, giving him some tickles on his belly. Adam watched as Ceyx would babble happily seeing his father's face before exploding into a fit of giggles and laughter once Lucifer began to tickle him. He nearly vomited seeing the little baby faces Lucifer was making. Yet, his heart broke seeing the way that your eyes twinkled at Lucifer, staring at him so fondly and lovingly. A look you had reserved for Adam. A look, he knew but continuously denied the truth of, he would never get again from you.

It's not like he cared anyways! . . . Not one bit. Not even as he watched as Lucifer would scoop up Ceyx, whose eyes carried the same shade and light as yours, and spin him around. Entertaining the baby while Vaggie assisted Charlie with fixing her hair, while Charlie watched her dad fond over the newest addition to the Morningstar family. Adam didn't even care when you stood up, gently placed a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, and pecked his cheek. It didn't boil his blood. And, of course, it's not like he needed answered from you. No way. And it was not the reason why Adam stalked your figure from above when you went to the bar to order drinks, after asking your family if they needed anything. And it was 100% not the reason why Adam went to the bar while Husk was mixing your drinks and sit down right next to you. He just needed to catch your eye on final time. To prove to himself that he still held some bit of your heart, that he still had some sort of chance against him, against Lucifer. And, yet, he found no such light in your eyes. You had simply glanced over to him, checking who had sat down next to you. Sure, you didn't give him a vindictive or disgusted look, like most of his exs would have, you didn't really react either. A simply, courteous, greeting before your drinks were finish. You, Adam's eyes, took the first chance to leave the conversation. And it stabbed right through his heart. But it's not like he cared! . . . Right? No! He didn't. He couldn't possibly! I mean, there were so many women fishing after his dick that you, oh wonderful you, didn't even matter to him. Once he got back up to Heaven, he'll find another bitch to replace you like- Snap!- that! He was Adam, after all.

You had been trying to keep things civil between You and Adam during every trip to the Hotel, really. Sure, you had been seriously dating but that didn't mean you had to have tension with the man! Even if he had been a douchebag during your entire relationship, you just didn't need that sort of stress, not with the new baby. But, Heaven's dammit, had he crossed the line today! Charlie had bought a little play pen for Ceyx to play in recently, having set it up and everything for your next visit to the Hotel. It sat a in front of the couch that Charlie, Lucifer, Vaggie, and you usually sat at and wasn't particularly in anyone's way. Charlie had wanted to show you both some of the new-new renovations made to the hotel and you had all thought that Ceyx would be alright with Vaggie in his play pen. You didn't miss the way Lucifer's eyes glanced back towards Ceyx, though, as you three walked up the main staircase. His eyebrows furrowed and his steps slowly stopped, so noticeable in fact that Charlie and you were sure he was about to race down the stairs and snatch Ceyx from his playpen and bring him with you. And you knew he didn't not trust Vaggie, he was just cautious. "He'll be fine, Luci," Your soft, whispered, voice was coaxing Lucifer away from Ceyx. It would only be a moment, you had said, as your hands rested gently on his. The gesture would draw his arm up as you took a step, and then a second, and by the third he reluctantly began to follow you up. Heavens, you wished you listened to his worried father instincts earlier. As mid-tour Vaggie's voice peirced through the whole hotel, "What the FUCK do you think you're doing?!" Which was enough for a signal for Lucifer to dart right back around and sprint down the hallway. Leaving Charlie and you in a dust of confusion for a moment, before you shared a worried look at each other and darted off after him.

The lobby of the hotel was in complete disarray when you caught up to Lucifer, to which he was already on the main floor. His heels clacked on the floor as he skidded to a stop between Vaggie, who held Ceyx, and Adam. Lucifer's breath was labored, yet he still raised his chin as his eyes pierced daggers at Adam. In that moment, in the intensity of his look, you truly understood why Lucifer was dubbed the King of Hell; Even with his wings unfurled and stretched out. Ceyx's cries died down for a moment upon seeing his father, though they only stirred back up feeling the tension, as thick as butter, in the room. "Woah, woah! Hey, what happened?!" Charlie exclaimed as she rushed down the stairs, trying to play mediator before someone decided to jump the other. You soon followed after her, stopping by Charlie's side with a hand rested on her shoulder. Vaggie huffed, standing on the couch with one leg on the cushion and the other on the back of the couch, "Your new guest" —she spat with vigor— "decided it would be a brilliant idea to mess with Ceyx and snatch his toy away while he was playing with it!" And, oh boy, if you didn't smell the smoke from the fire that burnt between Lucifer's horns before, you sure did now. It boiled, flared, and smoked out black with Lucifer's outrage. "How FUCKING dare you!" hissed Lucifer as his fingers flexed, the knuckles in his fingers cracking. "You think you can come into MY DAUGHTER'S Hotel—" "Lucifer," you tried to quell the situation, but knew it would be a futile attempt. "—and put your GRUBBY FUCKING HANDS on MY CHILD!—" Charlie attempted next, stretching out the 'a' in a cautious manner as she gently took a step forward, "Dad!" To only scramble the step back as Lucifer growled. "—and think YOU WOULD GET AWAY WITH IT YOU BASTARD!" and you would subconsciously shield Charlie's eyes with a hand as Lucifer reeled back and punched Adam across the lobby. Flinching as he crashed right next to the bar, leaving a nasty dent in the wall, you whispered a small sorry to Charlie for the damage. Vaggie didn't seem too bothered by the whole event though, as she cautiously stepped down from the couch with Ceyx once Adam was away. There was a jolt back when Lucifer snapped his head around, glaring over at Vaggie once he reregistered that his son was balling his eyes out; And you were a bit afraid Lucifer might punch Vaggie too, yet the haunting glow of red slowly subsided when soft pale yellow eyes grew upon seeing Ceyx. And Adam, as he pushed the debris of the wall off him with a groan, sat up to the scene of Lucifer gently picking up Ceyx from Vaggie's hands. The way his eyes shrunk just a little, while his pupils inflated, with a scrunched and worried eyebrow made Adam sick of looking at his stupid face. Especially when he cuddled and coddled the child, who would have been just fine if everyone didn't make a big deal out of everything. "Fucking snowflakes," Adam would grumble under his breath. His glare pierced the wall nearby before a shadow in front of him covered his light and caught his attention. He was sure it was just someone else there to berate him for something that wasn't even a big deal. And he was about to flip them off, to tell them to go fuck off, until he realized who it was. . . You stood in front of Adam, slamming your foot into his his chest with a snarl on her otherwise beautiful (in Adam's opinion) face, "What the hell was that?!" "What was what?!" Choked Adam as he met your eyes again. You gave him your undivided attention, and sure while it was filled with venom and hate, it was still attention. And, for some reason, he couldn't help but fold under it a little. Dammit! He wouldn't do this for anyone else, so why were you so different?!

"On don't play fucking dumb with me, Adam! You know exactly why you did and I want answers from you." You spat at him, venom leaking from your tone like a snake coiling around his body to squeeze him. And for once Adam was at a loss for words. At least, words that would make the situation better, as all that filled his mind was you. You and how you looked over him. How you were so close Adam could reach his hands out and grab your waist, pulling you down onto his lap. The smell of your perfume, it was different than he remembered yet it suited you. You eyes . . . still that same shade he always loved and- "Fuck, Babe," he would groan, not off put by the way your face drew back with suprise and then scrunched with pure, unfiltered disgust. "You're so fucking hot like thi—" Adam didn't get to finish his statement before a hard— SMACK!— echoed in the lobby, swiftly hushing the voiced that came from around Ceyx. They had been cooing at him, comforting him, though sharply turned to watched as you huffed your way back over to the group and away from Adam; Who was slightly flushed on the floor, a crude snicker stretched on his lips, which did almost nothing to mask the pain that filled his eyes.

Adam had always loathed Lucifer. Yet, after that day it became more deep rooted. Lucifer had taken everyone from him, he started two families that were meant to be his, and he did it without a single drop or tear of remorse. You were meant to be Adam's, Adam was meant to be yours. This isn't how it was supposed to go! And yet. . . when you returned to Lucifer, you whispered to you a concerned question, a small smile returned to your face as you rested his query to bed. And Adam would never forget the way you leaned against Lucifer, gently reaching out for your child, more at content and at peace next to him than you had ever been with Adam. That's when it all truly sunk in for Adam. . . and oddly, it made his desire for you burn more.

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