howget

[joyofsaudade]

i like to do a very smart and not at all dumb thing in which i set my headphones down somewhere and immediately forget where i put them and then end up sneaking around my house at 1 in the morning trying not to wake anyone up bc i really want to listen to music before bed

[elliewithcellie]

Right in front of you

summary: reader complains about their bad luck finding a guy when the guy for them is literally right there (Steve Harrington x Reader)

wc: 796

cw: mention of bad boyfriend in the past, friends to lovers speedrun, reader is a little dummy but we love them. Gender neutral, but might be implied more fem. One bad word. Steve POV more or less

a/n: Just a little blurb i found in my files, nothin to it, but the ending made me smile so i figured i'd post it

“When will it be my turn, ya know?” you rambled on to your friend, Steve. “Like, you know I’m thrilled for my friends. The girls have gone through so much, and to see them grow and learn that they deserve the best and take on love again is more than anything I could ever ask for. I’m so happy for them.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, fiddling with a stray string on your sweater.

Steve sat in the silence, waiting for you to fill it again. But he knew you. He knew you weren’t sharing the whole truth. He watched your eyebrows furrow like you were fighting with the words in your mind.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there,” Steve said.

You sighed. “It’s silly.”

“That’s ok.” Steve brushed the hair from your face to behind your ear. “Talk to me.”

“It’s just that I was with them through all of it. We all started in the same place. We all came from these shitty relationships, and we all worked together to heal. I worked so hard, Steve. I want you to believe me—”

“I do.”

“—When I tell you how hard I worked with these girls, I mean it. They became my everything. We became a family when I felt like I had no one.”

Steve couldn’t help but wince. It was hard hearing you talk about your past. His senses always overloaded with anger. For his dear friend he cared for more than anyone to be treated the way you were made his temperature rise. His heart pounded in his chest, but he let you continue.

“But I guess I’m just confused. You know? It’s like they’ve moved on without me, carrying on with their lives. But they were my life. Gosh, I wish you could meet them. You’d fit in so well with the whole gang, I swear.”

Again, Steve’s heart jumped. God, did he want that. For you to introduce him to your friends. Steve’s mind began to wander, thinking about the two of you traveling up to Utah together, meeting the girls that made you who you are today. He’d want to thank them individually for taking care of you. For allowing you to be comfortable enough to be vulnerable with him and allow him to love you. ‘Love you’? Oh, god. He didn’t realize.

“I’d love that,” he choked out.

“But what about me, Steve? What about me? I’m stuck in these patterns I want to get out of. I want to be independent and free. Just like them. But can I be super honest?” You looked up at Steve for the first time in this conversation.

“Of course.”

“I—I think I’m lonely. I’m really grateful that we’ve become friends because I don’t know what I would have done without you. But what do I have to do to have that special someone? I’ve put in the same work. But people aren’t looking at me like that, I guess.”

“That’s not true.”

“What? Of course, it is. How else do you explain that the only relationship I’ve been in was a narcissist taking advantage of me?”

Steve was taken aback by that. He watched your eyebrows crinkle together at the bridge of your nose, a last defense to fight the tears.

“Where’s my lineup of men then? Explain to me why I’m skirted at the bar so they can talk to Brenda, or I’m approached only so they can ask for her number.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “You’re so dense sometimes, you know that?”

“Huh?”

“You’re so lost in your own head that you don’t even notice what’s right in front of you!”

“Oh, please. Name one guy who’s even flirted with me.”

“ME, you dumbass.”

“I, er, you, what?”

Steve didn’t waste another moment. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. It was brash, almost harsh in quality, with fervor as Steve pressed his lips against yours. He felt you settle against him, your hands reaching out to the back of his neck and hair.

Steve pulled away and looked you in your eyes. “Everything you want,” he began, “I want to be the one to give it to you. The intimacy you crave, the best friend wrapped in a man, that’s literally me. If you’ll have me, we can heal our scars together and work toward the goal of independence, one step at a time.”

“You really want that?”

“More than anything.”

This time, you pulled him into a kiss. This time, it was softer, kinder, but the passion remained.

You giggled. “And to think. I was crushing over you this whole time!”

Steve laughed. “God, you are a piece of work, you know that?”

[kingkatsuki]

— when he stands up for you

Masterlist.

Ahh this is the first one from these little drabbles I’m posting! I really hope you enjoy these as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them💕

Warnings: none.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.3k.

Recruitment days were always a busy time in Dynamight’s agency. Most of the time Bakugou was lucky and could avoid doing the hiring and firing, his HR department more than happy to take care of the payroll. But looking for new sidekicks was important, and these were interviews that Bakugou wanted to deal with personally. He’d already spent the better part of a fortnight shortlisting candidates, Pro-Hero Red Riot had arrived into the agency to help him go through the shortlist. Although you were unsure whether he was more of a help or a hindrance, as the redhead would give you a bored smile whenever he’d escape to refill his coffee mug.

You’d never seen so many interviews scheduled, all appointments for the day postponed in favour of hiring a new sidekick. Smiling softly as you offered each new up and coming Hero a seat as they waited for their turn to impress the number two Dynamight.

You gave him a small smile each time you’d introduce a new interviewee, laying their file and information down in front of him so he could read through their history.

A few hours later you’d finally managed to work your way down the list of candidates to the last name- a young, cocksure hero with a strength quirk. The standout achievements on his resume was that he’d managed to get his hero license before everyone else in his class, saving a coach full of people from falling to their deaths by bending the girders on a bridge. On paper, he sounded pretty impressive. But face to face—

“Oi, how much longer is he gonna be? I got shit to do.” The man shouted from across the room.

You were sympathetic to him, he’d been waiting about fifteen minutes already and usually Bakugou had prompt timekeeping. But a last minute, unexpected call from Uravity had him delayed.

“He’ll be ready to see you soon, thank you for your patience.” You gave him a warm smile from behind your desk as you continued to type out an email to Red Riot’s agency.

“Why don’t you stop checking your Facebook for five minutes and go let him know I’m waiting.” He rolled his eyes.

“Mr Dynamight knows you’re here.” You clenched your jaw to stop yourself from giving a sarcastic retort.

Who the fuck did this guy think he was? You were already hoping that he wouldn’t get the position, already dreading the prospect of having to work alongside this man.

“If he knew I was here I’d be in there already,” He sighed, “So fucking incompetent.”

“Excuse me?” You were used to dealing with all sorts of irate people as Dynamight’s secretary, but you’d never experienced such attitude from a potential recruit.

“Is it too hard for you to understand, sweetheart?” The man scoffed, “Now hurry up and let him know I’m here.”

You were certain this was going to be the day you lost your job, a slew of angry words on the tip of your tongue as you tried to keep your disposition cheery. But you could feel the corners of your lips drooping down as your brows furrowed in a glare.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Your professionalism was slowly morphing into anger as you stood from your chair behind your desk, glaring at the ma n.

“What did you say?” Your head snapped towards the door to Dynamight’s office which was now wide open, your boss stepping out onto the floor as he’d cleverly heard the commotion.

“Dynamight, sir!” The man’s sneer quickly turned into a disingenuous smile as he made his way over to Bakugou in quick strides, reaching his hand out for him to shake, but Bakugou’s gaze remained focused directly into his eyes.

“Is that how you talk to my staff?”

“She wasn’t doing her job—” The young sidekick dropped his hand as he turned to glare at you, “She wouldn’t let you know I was waiting.”

“She,” Bakugou mimicked his tone, “Was doing her job perfectly. With that kind of attitude you’ll never make it as a hero.”

You felt your heart racing as you watched the scene in front of you, swelling with pride that Bakugou was defending you in front of his asshole as you couldn’t help but admire how pretty he looked when he was irate.

“Get out.” Bakugou spoke over the man who was currently talking about his work history, his patience already thin as he walked directly past him and made a beeline for your desk.

You’d never felt so glad that Bakugou was such an excellent judge of character, thankful that you wouldn’t have to deal with a man like that inside the agency each day.

“— I recently finished my work study with Fourth Kind.” He continued.

“One call and no one in this city will hire you,” Bakugou snarled.

The young man looked as though he might cry as his lower lip wobbled, frozen in place as Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest.

“I won’t repeat myself again,” He continued, “Get out.”

You felt vindicated as you watched the man leave, the once cocky persona reduced to nothing as the elevator doors dinged to close. Your entire body felt as though it was on fire from how protective Bakugou had been over you, a heat rising to your cheeks as you avoided eye contact. Afraid you’d give away your feelings for him if you met his gaze.

“Hey,” Bakugou rasped, “You good?”

“I’m okay,” You smiled, “Pretty used to assholes like him.”

“That don’t mean it’s right,” He continued, “Fuckin’ prick.”

“I mean, he was your last interview so at least on the plus side you’re done for the day.” You smiled.

“Let me grab us some coffee and you can help me pick someone.” Bakugou smiled back, already walking towards the machine at the end of the hall.

“I don’t think I’m qualified for that—“ You called out to him.

There was no way you could pick his new sidekick, especially if you picked an annoying one. You’d never hear the end of it.

“You saw the list of people.” Bakugou continued, “And you met them all today, same as me.”

“Well yeah, but—”

“So, it’s settled.” He grinned, checking his watch, “Shit, I didn’t even realise how late it was.”

“Yeah, it’s been a pretty long day.”

“Okay, so new plan.” Bakugou smiled, turning towards you as the coffee machine was still heating up, “Dinner at that little ramen place and you help me pick my new sidekick.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to ask Kiri- Red Riot?”

“I trust you.” He gave you a genuine smile.

The words had you melting beneath his gaze, crimson eyes locking with your own as you felt your knees begin to go weak. Trying to push your feelings for your boss to the back of your mind as you prayed the butterflies would stop fluttering against your ribcage.

“Okay, but you’re paying.” You grinned.

“As if I’d ever let you pay, sweetheart.” Bakugou smiled back.

If you’d been paying attention you would’ve noticed the way Bakugou stood a little closer to you that night as you walked side by side to the little hole in the wall ramen bar, he’d blame it on the brisk winter air if you asked, but it was really because he wanted to wrap an arm around you to shield you from the biting chill.

[melzula]

Hi ! the number one iroh stan has returned :) could i request a continuation to the lash iroh and kya’s daughter piece, but this time their proposal and marriage story ?

a/n: hello anon! apologies for how long it took to get to this request. i focused more on the proposal part for this piece, but if you’d like me to also write about the wedding i’d be happy to do so!

summary: Iroh has an important question to ask Kya and Katara when you return to the south

~based off of these headcanons~

After spending a wonderful year residing in the Fire Nation with your boyfriend, the feeling of homesickness called you back to the South to visit your mother. Though you enjoyed your time away, you felt you’d been gone long enough. There was so much you had to tell your mother, and you were sure she was dying to hear all about your travels.

The shores of the South approach in the distance, and a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. More shivers follow, and you start to wonder if it’s your nerves or lost tolerance for the cold after spending so much time in the heat that has your body trembling.

A coat is carefully draped over your shoulders, and you smile up at the man who now stands beside you and keeps you close to his side in an attempt to share his warmth with you.

“We’ll be arriving shortly,” Iroh notes with a smile. “I’m sure your family will be happy to see you.”

“Thank you for coming with me,” you reply gratefully, “I hope I’m not pulling you away from anything important, General.”

“Escorting my beloved home is important,” he reiterates earnestly. “Besides, as your suitor it would be rude of me not to greet your family.”

“I know Gran Gran will be thrilled to see you,” you note with a fond smile, “and my mother. She hasn’t seen you since we studied under Zuko together.”

“I look forward to seeing them again,” Iroh says, a glint in his eye you don’t quite catch as you settle your gaze on the approaching Southern Water Tribe. Though you don’t know it yet, Iroh plans to do more than just reconnect with old friends during his time in the South.

And if all goes well, he’ll be able to do what he’s thought about doing since he first kissed you in front of the water fountain in the palace gardens.

~~~

The shrieks of laughter outside bring a smile to Kya’s face as she watches you run around with your younger cousins in the snow. Little Meelo sits delightedly upon your shoulders as you dodge snowballs thrown your way by Ikki and Jinora who try their hardest to catch you. Though you’ve always been the oldest, you’ve never once denied their requests to play. It’s endearing to see you so happy, to see how much you love and care for the children.

“I think she’ll make a fine mother one day,” she says offhandedly, her eyes never leaving your smiling face. “Don’t you think, Iroh?”

Though he’s caught off guard by her question, the General is full of sincerity when he replies, “Yes, I believe she will.”

“Are you taking care of my daughter? Is she happy with you?”

“I pride myself on making y/n happy,” he says earnestly. “She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, and it’s been an honor courting her.”

Kya hums thoughtfully, a gentle smile on her face as she focuses her attention on you and your little cousins who have just managed to successfully tackle you to the ground. She’s missed having you home, but something tells her you won’t be staying for long.

“Kya,” he says, calling her attention back to the man beside her, “I love your daughter, and I’m certain there’s no one else I’d rather spend my life with. I came on this trip not just to pay a visit to old friends, but to ask you for your approval. I’d like your blessing to marry y/n.”

She’s silent for a moment, brows threaded together thoughtfully, and for a moment Iroh fears he’s overstepped. But a small laugh leaves her then, and when she turns to the General her eyes are glistening with tears.

“From the day she was born it was my job to make sure y/n always felt safe and loved no matter what. I knew that there’d soon be a day where I’d have to share this responsibility with someone else, and I can’t think of anyone more qualified for the job than you. If you can promise me that y/n will continue to feel loved and safe even when I’m gone, then you have my blessing to marry my daughter.”

“I promise I will treasure your daughter for as long as I live,” he professes full-heartedly. “I’m immensely grateful for your blessing.”

“Yes, but I hope you know my blessing isn’t the only one you’ll need to marry y/n,” Kya notes with a playful smile. “You still have to get the seal of approval from her grandmother and uncles.”

“And I plan to.”

~~~

“I can’t say how excited I am to see you and my granddaughter together,” Katara says as she lays the carving tools onto the table. “I only wish Aang were here to see it, too

“Thank you for your blessing and agreeing to help me with this,” Iroh replies. “I have to admit I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing, but I want to make sure I honor y/n’s culture when I propose.”

“A betrothal necklace is the perfect way to do so. I’ve provided everything you need, all you have to do is carve the stone.”

“What should I carve?”

“Something meaningful,” she says. “There’s no correct way to make a betrothal necklace, but adding a personal touch will make it more special. Is there a symbol or a memory that perhaps holds importance to you both?”

“We shared our first kiss under the crescent moon,” he murmurs thoughtfully to himself. “The stars were the brightest I’d ever seen them, and the water of the fountain almost seemed to sparkle. I professed my love to her that night, and we’ve been together ever since.”

“It sounds to me like you already know what that memory is,” Katara notes with a gentle smile. “I think a crescent moon would look beautiful on this stone.”

“Some stars on the choker would give it just the right touch,” Kya notes from the doorway, watching as her soon to be son-in-law begins carving into the stone. “But I think y/n will love it no matter what.”

“I just want it to be perfect.”

“It will be,” your mother comforts. “I have faith that everything will be just fine. You two are meant to be.”

“Aunt Kya! Gran Gran!” A voice calls out from the hallway. A breathless Jinora stands in the doorway, collapsing against its frame for support as her tired legs give out fro running for so long. “Y/n’s on her way back from the marketplace with my dad!”

“Try to see if your father can stall her for just a bit longer,” Katara advises. “The necklace isn’t quite finished yet.”

“Yes, Gran Gran,” she quips before rushing back out the door.

“We’ll keep watch for y/n until you’re done,” Kya says. “Good luck.”

The two women leave the room then, allowing Iroh a moment alone to work on the necklace.

He carves the stone into the shape of a crescent moon and places it in the center of the ribbon. Using the leftover pieces, Iroh follows Kya’s advice of crafting smaller diamond shaped stars to line the choker. It’s simple but perfect all at once, and he’s hopeful that you’ll love it all the same.

All that’s left to do now is propose.

~~~

“Iroh, it’s the middle of the night, what are we doing out here?” You question with a quiet laugh. It’s below freezing outside and your only source of light comes from the crescent moon above. Everyone in the village has long retired for the night by now, leaving just you and your boyfriend out in the cold.

“I have something I’d like to show you,” he replies with a smile, taking your hand and guiding you through the thick snow towards the water’s edge. The waves are quiet and gentle, sparkling underneath the starlight in a way that takes your breath away.

“It’s beautiful out tonight,” you sigh appreciatively. “I almost forgot how peaceful the ocean can be.”

“My grandfather used to always say that water is the element of change,” Iroh notes thoughtfully, “and the people of the Water Tribe are held together by love and community. It’s what makes you so kind, so strong and passionate. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met, y/n.”

“My, General, you sure do have a way with words,” you tease despite the butterflies that seem to flitter rapidly in your stomach. Though you’ve been together for a little over a year, he still manages to sweep you off your feet just as he had when you’d first started courting.

“I mean my words,” he says earnestly, gently taking your hands in his own and pulling you closer to his figure. “My time with you has been nothing short of wonderful, and I can no longer picture a life without you by my side. If you’ll have me, I’d like to dedicate the rest of my time on this earth making you happy.”

You’re stunned into silence at his words, stomach twisting in knots with excitement and anticipation. You watch as he carefully reaches into the pocket of his parka and gasp at the sight of the necklace he presents to you. It’s the most beautiful betrothal necklace you’ve ever seen, and tears begin to brim in your eyes as the meaning of this little midnight adventure starts to finally come together for you.

“Y/n, it would be an honor to have you as my wife. Will you allow me the privilege of becoming your husband?”

“Oh, Iroh, yes!” You exclaim delightedly, throwing your arms around the man and gifting him the sweetest kiss that he gladly accepts.

Tears stream down both of your faces as he holds you tightly in his embrace and savors the feeling of you. From the moment he kissed you in front of the fountain of the place gardens he knew in his heart that you were it. Bumi had brought you back to the Fire Nation, but it was fate that allowed you to fall in love with your childhood playmate. He couldn’t think of anything better than that.

“May I?” Iroh asks with a gesture to the necklace, receiving an eager nod from you as you tug down the collar of your dress to allow him to put the choker on. His movements are gentle as he carefully drapes it around your neck and clasps the ends together. It rests beautifully along your neckline and conveys the message that you are now spoken for. You love it, and you love Iroh, and you make sure to tell him so.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he professes earnestly before once again pulling you close to his frame.

You share another kiss under the crescent moon, and in that moment life is perfect.

[specialagentlokitty]

Saul silva/Farah x student!reader - pure hearted

just saw your prompt list and immediatly thought of platonic Farah/Saul x student reader, literally so like Luna from Harry Potter, so in tune with nature, with number 32??? - @casserole-from-dads-asserole 💜

32: “Yesterday I saw a rock.” “Okay?” “I thought you’d like it. So here.”

Humming to yourself, you were wondering the school grounds, gathering random things out found interesting and carefully put them into your pockets.

“Doing some more foraging?” Bloom laughed softly.

You looked up at her with a smile.

“I have something for you!”

Running over to her, you rummaged through your pockets and you pulled out a bright Orange flower and reached up, tucking it behind her ear.

“Aw thank you (Y/N).” She smiled.

You beamed happily and skipped away again to carry on with what it was you were doing.

And you kept doing that until your pockets couldn’t carry anymore things and then you made your way back to your dorm and into your room.

Setting everything on the desk, you separated them into piles and smiled to yourself as you nodded your head in approval.

“Hey Dowling is looking for you (Y/N)!” Someone called.

“Okay!”

Grabbing a few things from the desk, you put them into your pocket and made your way into the hallways towards the headmistress’ office.

Stepping in, you pulled out a blue flower and handed it over to Aisha who gasped a little.

“Woah it’s so pretty.”

“To cheer you up a bit.” You smiled.

With that you went up to the office and let yourself in, closing the door behind you, you grinned at them both.

“Hello Headmaster Silva, Headmistress Dowling.”

“Hello (Y/N), can we have a chat?” Silva asked.

You nodded and walked over, sitting in the chair he had offered you.

“You’ve not been going to classes.” Farah said.

“I’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been wondering the training grounds, I saw you earlier. What exactly do you do when you wonder?” Silva asked.

“I look for things. Special things.”

They both shared a look and began to explain the importance of you actually attending your classes like you were supposed to.

You weren’t really listening, you were too busy thinking about the small patch of wildflowers you had seen earlier that day.

“Anything to say (Y/N)?” Farah asked.

“Yesterday I saw a rock.”

She furrowed her brows a little in confusion.

“Okay?”

You beamed brightly at her.

“I thought you’d like it. So here.”

Digging through your pockets you held out the small pristine white rock out to her and she reached over taking it.

She examined the rock and you turned to Silva.

“I found something for you too.”

Pulling the final object out of your pocket, you revealed a small stone that resembled a sword and you handed it over to him.

“I have to go, I promised Terra I’d show her some flowers!”

With that, you jumped up and happily bounded away out of the office even though the meeting wasn’t finished.

Both Silva and Farah shared a look but they smiled to one another.

“You really can’t stay mad at them can you?” Silva asked.

“It’s impossible. That teenager has a heart of gold.” Farah smiled.

Both of them admired their little gifts you had given them.

You were supposed to be learning but you were just so bright and happy about everything neither of them had the heart to stop you from doing it.

You were like a ray of a light for everyone during uncertain times just so happy and caring and calm.

You were lost in your own little world most of the time, lost doing your own little thing, but you weren’t really doing anything wrong, so they would let you get away with it for a little while longer

[galadae]

the sunlit spark

rating: T pairing: calantha lenn/hien rijin words: 4.1k summary: hien and calantha find themselves with time to spare, and calantha wants a rematch. notes: first kiss fic redux! occurs after 4.4 quest the will of the moon. this is technically a rewrite of the old "impulsive" prompt but it's over twice as long as the first version and the vibe is better/more accurate for them. ao3 link

Hien takes a deep breath of cool fresh air as his shoes crunch in the short grass. The breeze carries the scent of sheep and cook fires, earth and stone. The sun drifts towards the horizon, bathing the steppe in golden light. Towering clouds drift like tall ships on the sea of endless blue above. He stops to study them as he makes his way up the familiar path to the hilltop above Reunion. 

“It’s a small repair. The mender's apprentice said it should take an hour.” Calantha’s voice sounds from behind him. He turns to see her pocketing her coin purse. With a few long strides she joins him, slowing to match his pace. “I suppose we have some time to ourselves.” 

“That is fine by me." He flashes her a smile. “We may as well enjoy a bit of quiet after the excitement of the day.”

“You’re right about that,” she says. She stretches her arms above her head. “It’s been awhile since I’ve fought a single opponent as fierce as Sadu. I’ll still be feeling it tomorrow.” 

“As will I.” With a chuckle he rubs his left arm, working out the faint soreness.The wound from Daidukul was sealed without a scar. Y’shtola had been quick and thorough. 

Calantha’s eyes dart to his arm, and away. “How are you holding up? I know Y’shtola healed you, but–why did you come with me? You’d be better off resting.” 

“And have it be known that the Khagan strode about the steppe without a care after her fearsome battle, but I was laid up in bed for the day?” Hien chuckles. “But in truth, I am fine. The sun will soon set, and I would admire the view in this place once more. After all, it may be awhile before we return here.” 

He tries not to stare at the way her hair catches the sunlight, a halo of gold around the back of her head. This was not the view he had anticipated, but he certainly doesn’t mind.

“It is a good view,” she says, oblivious to his thoughts. She laughs, light and clear, as she casts her gaze towards the clouds. “Every time we return here, I think of when we first met. I didn’t know what to make of you, perched on the top of the cliff.” 

He scoffs. “Perched ? As I recall it, I was deep in thought.” 

“If you say so,” she says. “All I remember was by the end of the day, I’d lost both a hunting contest and a duel to someone I’d barely met. It was not a pleasant time for me. I was almost determined to dislike you.”

“Ah yes.” Hien smirks. “Your secret. The mighty Warrior of Light, and her mighty fear of–”

“Don’t you dare,” Calantha snaps. “I still want a rematch. Yes, the mighty Warrior of Light, giving both victory and her saddest secret to a total stranger. The embarrassment haunts me to this day.” She sighs and shakes her head. “Or perhaps you'll do me a favor and forget about it. Surely you have enough on your mind already without another small insignificant fact about me.” 

Insignificant or no, the thought sprung to his mind often. When he moved wood for the fire from a shady spot against the wall, and spotted a snail leaving its trail across the stone behind. While he walked along the river, and found familiar spiral shells among the stones. When he watched her help build the growing number of small gardens around the Doman Enclave. He wondered how she managed when she was sure to see many snails with that kind of work. It was never important, when he did think of it. But he couldn’t forget this tiny, trivial piece of her, stuck in his mind for good, even if he wished to. Such was the way with friends, was it not?

“It was a fair bargain that you agreed to, my friend. And I find it hard to believe that your secret is, as you call it, your saddest. It simply amuses me too much to be forgotten." He grins, trying not to laugh again at the grimace on her face.

“Of course it does,” she groans.

He steps closer. “But perhaps you suffer less now that I'm no longer a total stranger. Unless you're still determined to dislike me.”

She huffs, blowing a tuft of hair from her face. “Depends on how well you keep my secret.” 

“Never fear.” He claps a hand to her shoulder. "It will remain safe with me, even till the day I die. May the Kami bring misfortune on my head if it does not.” 

She raises an eyebrow and laughs. “Excessive, but I’m glad to hear it. Perhaps we can stay friends, after all.” A slow smile spreads across her cheeks, tinged with mischief. She drapes her arm around his shoulders. As she bends to whisper in his ear, her voice drips with equal sweetness and mockery.

“And seeing as we’re great friends, now, perhaps I can call you Shu–”

“There is certainly no need for that.” He gives her a playful shove with his elbow before she can finish.

“Why ever not?” she says. Her lips purse into a fake pout. It’s his turn to roll his eyes, and her laugh rings out across the hillside at the mixture of amusement and annoyance on his face. He watches as she pushes past him, further up the hill. 

He folds his arms. “I would enjoy a rematch, but if you keep on like this, I'll need another secret from you." 

She turns to face him, her mouth set in a cheeky grin to match his own. “You won’t get one out of me this time.”

Something flickers in her gaze that sets a spark alight in his chest. Perhaps it’s the sun on her face, or the way her eyes shine with mirth, or the breeze catching in her hair. He can’t help but laugh along with her, unable to tear his eyes away, until they crest the hill a moment later.

The steppe is lit in gold and pink from Reunion below, to the Dawn Throne, to the mountains on the horizon. Calantha stops near the edge, staring across the overlook. 

“Here’s your view,” she says, spreading her arms apart. She takes a deep breath. Her arms fall to her sides as her gaze drifts across the steppe. 

Hien steps up beside her. He follows her line of sight, the beauty of the familiar vista washing over him again, until he finds his eyes drifting towards her. She shields her eyes from the sun with long graceful fingers. He stares at her profile, the tip of her nose, her lips–She looks over, eyebrow raised in question. “What?” 

He swallows and looks around the hilltop, scolding himself for letting his mind wander so. He clears his throat. “This place strikes me as a fine field for a rematch. I believe you just said you’d like one?”

Calantha turns to face him. “I did, didn’t I? I'm all for it.” She studies his face for a moment, glancing over his sore arm again. “Unless you’re too tired from before.”

His limbs are sore, and he could use rest. But he doesn’t want to concern her. Or for that matter, miss any fun. 

“I’m no more weary than you,” he says. He stands up straight and rests his arm on his sword with a confident smile. “And we have time to spare. Do you truly wish to challenge me now? Or shall we wait until you have your armor from the mender?” 

“I shouldn’t need it. It’s not like you intend to kill me. At least, I hope not.” Calantha shrugs, and gives him another smile. “I’m sure I can beat you without it.”

“That may be,” he says. “I myself will relish the look on your face when I win yet again.”  

She bursts out laughing. “We’ll see about that.” 

“I’m ready if you are.” Hien locks his eyes on hers. “Shall we?” 

He draws his sword. Calantha nods and readies her lance. They both step back, keeping close eyes on each other.

They circle the hilltop in silence. The breeze blows past them, rustling their hair and clothes. Voices drift up from below them, scattered syllables and laughs from the market stalls, the calls of animals. Birds pass by overhead. Hien considers his position. If he can get her where the sun is in her eyes–

Calantha brushes hair from her forehead. “What are you waiting for?” she says. “Afraid to make the first move?” 

Hien studies her stance. He can't let her taunt him now. He steps into the sun’s path and Calantha follows him, still circling. She squints in the sunlight and glares at him. 

“So that's how it is,” she says. Lowering her head, she darts forward, lunging with her lance. He lets the blow glance off his blade. He's got to move closer, inside her range. She'll drive him back if he's not careful.

Calantha follows the motions of her lunge past him and spins, letting the shaft of her lance swoop towards his head. He ducks the blow with a laugh. “Come now, you can do better than that.” 

She thrusts the blade towards him, forcing him to leap out of the way. 

“And so can you,” she growls. “What’s the fun if you're only going to jump away? Put in some effort, will you?” 

“As you wish, Khagan.” He laughs and dashes towards her. She raises her lance to block his blows, one by one. If he can disarm her, somehow– He rushes forward again.

She vaults back with a laugh. 

“Who's jumping away now?” he says, voice tinged with annoyance. 

“It's only fair,” she teases, leaning on her lance. “I could make you chase me.” 

He shakes his head. “And why would I do that? You're the one who wanted this battle. I can wait. If I'm to win, I would save my strength.” 

“I have to do everything myself,” Calantha mutters. Before he can respond she springs toward him. 

Her blows come one after the other, a whirling kick as she spins around her lance, a spinning blade deflected with his own. A poor attempt to catch his leg with her lance which he hops out of place to avoid. A swift strike towards his waist. Her onslaught is relentless. He barely beats her back. He's determined to disarm her, but the opportunities are few. He begins to wonder how long he can withstand her attacks without an opening. Even after her long battle with Sadu, she's fierce and quick on her feet. Does she not know fatigue?

Then she strikes, too high, just past his head. Now's his chance. Hien barrels into her, low and fast. She grunts as his shoulder hits her stomach. He wraps his sword arm around her waist, and grabs the lance with his other hand, yanking it away from her. With an indignant huff she wrests it back, gripping it in both hands on either side of him. She pulls the lance haft in, trapping him against her. “Nice try,” she sneers. 

He laughs. “You assume I'm finished trying.” He tries to duck out from under it, but she locks him in, holding him closer. 

“I think you are,” Calantha says. 

He glares up at her. There is a way out, he's sure, but her face is so close, her eyes bright with the sunlight, and he can't seem to think clearly pressed against her. He struggles for a moment, heart hammering. 

“What cheap tactic is this, my friend?” he says. 

“One that keeps you from winning.” She looks down at him with a taunting smile.

He laughs. “You’ll have to try harder, then.” In a desperate effort to escape he does the first thing that comes to mind. 

In one motion he grabs her waist and hurls himself backwards. She yelps as she falls forward with him. Her lance drops and Hien breaks free of her. The ground strikes his back as he lands –unfortunate, but if he's quick, he can salvage this. 

Calantha catches herself on her knees, lance in the grass. She plants her foot to rise just as he sits up with his arm raised, ready to place his katana at her throat–

The sun is in his eyes. He misjudges the angle of his blade, almost thrown from his hand in the fall. Calantha knocks the weapon from his grasp. With her lance in both hands, she pushes him down, laying the haft under his chin. 

“Yield,” she says, with a breathless smile still on her lips. He can feel her knee on his waist. 

He scowls at her and pushes back against the lance. She scoffs and leans over him, straddling his legs. He’s pinned beneath her. Perhaps he can still get out of this. Panting, he looks over at his blade. It lies just out of reach. 

Calantha pushes the lance closer, tilting his head up further. “Well? Do you yield or not?”

Hien sighs and collapses back against the grass. The metal inlay of her lance haft against his neck is pleasantly cool. He nods, too breathless to say anything else.

Calantha’s chest rises and falls rapidly as she catches her breath. “See, no armor needed,” she says, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. The wind blows her hair away from her face, revealing her flushed cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. She withdraws her lance and drops it on the ground beside her. A heady sense of admiration fills him, and he knows his heart is pounding from more than the exertion of their fight. The latent spark burns brighter. Too bright, threatening to bloom into something more. He feels both wary and excited at the prospect.  

Hien stares at her in a daze as his breath returns to him. “Well fought,” he says. “A quicker match than our first, to be sure.” He struggles to sit up on his elbows, trying not to think about her weight on him.

Calantha glances down, realizing she’s still on top of him. Her eyes widen and she scrambles to stand. “Are you alright?” She looks down. Her face is neutral, but she can’t quite hide the blush that’s crept to her ears. 

Hien gives a breathless laugh. “I will be fine, I assure you.” He takes her offered hand and begins dusting himself off. “Any bruises I’ve gotten will join my fine collection from earlier today.”

They retrieve their weapons and settle on a rocky outcrop a few yalms from the edge of the overlook. She sits so close that her leg presses against his. He finds he doesn’t mind.

He speaks to cover the way his heart still flutters. “Are you pleased with your victory?”

Her smile grows wider. “I feel vindicated. Thank you.”

“Of course," he says. “I would offer to spar with you more often, but judging by how this match has gone, I must limit the number of crushing defeats I suffer in one week.”

She chuckles. “Surely it wouldn’t be that bad.” The wind picks up again, rustling through the low grass. “I should try with a katana. I don't think I can match your skill just yet.”

“I'm sure you'll beat me nine times out of ten.” 

“I doubt it. I need practice.” She shifts, pulling one leg under her. “I admit I’ve only trained with a lance and greatsword in the past months. That, and Alphinaud is trying to teach me to summon–Oh,” She looks over his head. “Your hair.”

“My hair?”

“One of the ties is coming undone. And there's grass caught–May I?”

Hien reaches his hand up to check. One of the cords is indeed loose. He wouldn’t have noticed. “If you wish, but there’s really no need–” 

“It’s fine,” she says. She leans closer, arms reaching up on either side of his head. 

She plucks the grass away and combs a few longer strands back into place with her fingers. The way she reaches around him leaves little to look at but her lips and the graceful curve of her neck. He finds it hard not to let his eyes drift down to the pendant she wears, just above her breasts, to the way her shirt wraps across her chest. The memory of her weight on his hips is still fresh in his mind. Heat rises to his cheeks as he pushes the thought away.

He’s sure none would blame him for admiring her looks. But she’s his friend and ally. He’s not sure how he should see her. He can’t deny he’s admired her since after the Naadam, but it’s more than that. Whether it’s her resolve and determination, or and the easy way she jokes with him, or her care for those she holds dear, even if she’s sometimes loath to admit it – he finds himself drawn to her. Her presence heartens him. In the time she’s spent helping him begin to rebuild, he’s found himself thinking how much he’d like her to help finish the task. He knows it will take years. And as unlikely as it might be, he hopes she’ll join him in as many of those years as she can spare. At first that desire stemmed from profound gratitude for her aid in the past months, and her part in liberating Doma. Without a doubt they’d be further from their goals without her. But perhaps it’s more. He can feel that spark again, buried in his chest. Her voice brings him back from his musing. 

“Hold still, I've almost—” She pulls everything in place. “There. It should stay now.” Calantha sits back, but her hand lingers on his shoulder. She smiles, and her eyes have a strange softness to them. One he’s seen in the rare moments he’s caught her stealing glances. He pretended not to notice, of course, in case he misjudged them. Her gaze drops to his lips. He stares, unable to look away from the light catching her hair and her eyes, gold in the violet. 

He never dared to think they’d become so close that he could feel the whisper of her breath against his cheek. He has thought of it, when he let his mind wander, but those were idle, foolish daydreams. Nothing more. 

And yet she hasn’t moved away. Her face is ilms from his, and Hien’s heartbeat quickens again. He reaches a tentative hand up to brush his knuckles across the pale freckles on her cheek. She closes her eyes and lets her head rest against his hand. 

He stares at the way her eyelashes fall against her cheek. The draw to her is undeniable now. Hien rests his forehead against her temple. The gentle sound of her breath, the smell of her hair, her hand on his arm. He can think of nothing else. 

“The sunset,” she says. The phrase is quiet, and she tilts her head to look across the horizon. Her eyes open, heavy lidded in the bright light. “Didn't you want to see it?” 

“I did,” he murmurs. Despite its beauty the sunset is not where his attention lies. His heart hammers in his chest. 

“Calantha-” he starts, but whatever he meant to say has flown from his mind, now full only of her.

She smiles, a small, delicate curve of her lips. “Yes?”

He finds himself uncharacteristically speechless. Instead he ghosts his thumb across her lower lip. Her breath catches, but she doesn't pull away. 

Hien brings his lips to hers. 

It’s short and light. Barely a kiss. He’s afraid to overstay. In a rush Calantha cups the back of his neck. She draws him close, kissing him once, twice, and a third time, each one a little longer and deeper than the last. Her lips are soft, the kisses somehow tender and eager at once. He wonders if she had hoped for this. Hien reaches his hands around her waist. He keeps a gentle grip on her sash, half to steady himself, half to pull her in. Her warmth and the faintly sweet herbal scent of her hair surround him, both familiar but never this close, not until now. He thinks he could melt into her. The spark he felt earlier is so bright it threatens to set his whole heart aflame. 

With a final brush of their lips she breaks away, her breath fast and hot on his cheek. His head spins. He rests his forehead against her neck, fingers still clutched in her sash. 

“Shit.” Calantha ducks her head with a shaky laugh, like pulling herself from a dream. "I should see about my armor," she says, looking away. “I’m sure Y’shtola is wondering what’s taking us so long. We still need to discuss…”

She trails off with a quick breath, not looking at him. His hands are still on her waist. 

“We should go,” she says, sliding from the rock. 

The abrupt motion shakes him from his reverie. He nods. “Let us return, then,” he replies, with as much nonchalance as he can muster.  

The sun sinks below the mountains, and the evening air brings a swift chill with the wind. They say little on the way back to Mol Iloh. Calantha hardly looks at him. Hien spends the short trip half in a dream, and half considering their awkward silence. Had he misjudged her? The creeping dread that he’s made a rift between them begins to nag at him. He curses his poor judgment. He hopes he hasn’t offended her. 

Evening turns to night. They eat and talk with the rest of the Mol, comfortably conversing with all except each other. Everyone seems to share a calm, easy air.  It fails to match the growing apprehension in Hien’s mind. He tells himself there’s nothing to be done about it, but it does little to ease his thoughts. He has to fix this, somehow. Her friendship means more to him than a foolish kiss.

As the fire burns low, he sees Calantha stand and bids the others goodnight. 

He excuses himself and strides after her. She doesn’t seem to hear him approach. “Calantha!” he calls. She turns, between two yurts. Her eyes are wide, but with what emotion, he can’t say. He can see her breath quicken. 

He steps towards her, stopping a few fulms away. “Calantha. About earlier. The kiss. If you don’t–that is–” he stops as the words catch in his throat. He grits his teeth and starts again. “I am sorry. The fault was mine.” 

She sighs and glances away. “No more yours than mine. Don’t worry about it.” A small smile creeps onto her face, but fades when she looks up at him again. 

He stares. The words could be politeness, or tentative acceptance. He's not sure which she means. He can offer nothing in return but a confused half frown as he waits for her to say more.  

She shuffles her feet. “I’ll bid you goodnight, then,” she says.

“Wait.” Hien steps toward her, looking up into her eyes. If he’s made a rift between them, he can't end the night without taking steps to mend it. “We are even in victories, you and I. If you wish for another match you have only to ask.” He grins at her. “Even if you defeat me every time.”

She ducks her head with a soft laugh. “I’d like that,” she says. “Perhaps next time I won't use my lance. I've got to give you some chance of winning.” 

The small taunt brings a flicker of normality back between them. He grins. “We shall see who truly is the better, lance or no.” 

“I look forward to it.” Her tone is soft, but still sweet. It lifts the weight from his chest. She turns away. “Goodnight, Hien.” 

He stands for a moment, watching as she disappears between the yurts, not moving until long after she’s disappeared from view. The sound of his name in her mouth strikes him differently this time. Hien wants to capture the syllables, like flower petals in the palm of his hand, and hold them close to his heart.  He can’t know how much will change between them. He prays he hasn't ruined anything they can't fix together. But he does know the tiny spark in his chest is now a bright flame for her. He can no longer ignore it. 

[hihomeghere]

Prompt List

Just send me an ask with a number and a character to put in a request <3

"Kiss me." "what-“

"oh come on, you and i both knew what he was doing."

"no way.... you're actually jealous."

"god, here- just hold my hand."

"If you seriously propose that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

"I won't let anything happen to you, I swear."

"I can handle myself.” 

"Where did you get those?"

"Come on. Let's get it wrapped up."

"Let me guess, I should "see the other guy'?*

"I like the new look. It suits you."

"You look so much softer, so much calmer, I wish you could see yourself as you sleep."

"Sleeping with you was the best sleep I've gotten in years."

"Don't be nervous, you can come closer"

"I didn't mean to love you so much."

"It wasn't supposed to end this way."

"It was always you."

"Admit that you're wrong!"

"You're leaving now?"

"Please just stay with me. For one night at least."

"We never got the right timing."

"If you asked me years ago, I would have said yes."

“Are they really just a friend?”

“You never had a problem with it before?”

“You have something in your hair, do you want me to get it out?”

“I don’t think I can be just friends with you anymore.”

“You deserve better.”

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I just want to be yours.” 

“You’re mine.”

“Please look at me.”

“Is it mine?”

“I think you’re showing.”

“Will you help me up?”

“You’re glowing.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Please marry me.”

“I want you, only you.”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

"The baby loves hearing you sing/speak."

“Is that my shirt?”

“How do I look?”

“No one needs to know.”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t keep kissing strangers pretending they’re you.”

“You make me want things I can’t have.”

“You can’t keep pretending it never happened!”

“We need to talk about last night.”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“You said you’d always be there for me.”

“Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

“Here, take my blanket.”

“You’re cute when you smile, you should do it more often.”

“It reminded me of you.”

“I’ll take over from here, you go get some rest.”

“Try to stay quiet, yeah?”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

“Let them hear you.”

“I said I’d take care of you.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I need you.”

“I’m not sure what to do with these feelings for you.”

“Stop distracting me.”

“Were you touching yourself?”

“I’m your first?”

“Forget the bed, I have to have you.”

“You’re staring.”

“Tell me where it hurts.”

“Let me see.”

“No you’re not fine.”

“Would you shut up and kiss me already?”

“It’s only one night, we can share the bed.”

“I’m with you, always.”

“I just feel safe with you.”

“I dream of you, all I do is dream of you.”

“I don’t like sharing.”

“I love you, okay?”

“Don’t make me beg.”

“Your heart is racing.”

“I can’t remember the last time I was kissed.”

“Was that a kick?”

“I never meant for this to happen.”

“Is this guy bothering you?"

“Please don’t cry.”

“Is this a date?”

“You remembered?”

“Stop squirming, I'm almost done.”

“Take my jacket.” 

“Can I have this dance?”

“This sounds like goodbye.”

“How are you feeling?”

“You haven’t lost me.”

“Am I doing this right?”

“God, we stink.”

“Don’t look.”

“You’re gonna get us caught.”

“Give me a chance.”

“You kissed me last night.”

[scorpiongrassfield]

You wait for the waiter to come by with the check

Start | Prev

Theo offers you more of the cobbler too. “Really, I don’t want it to go to waste,” he says when you try to decline. 

You double down on your declination, and Theo lets the matter rest. 

“So,” Pat says as they put down their card with the check. “It was really nice talking with you, Theo.” 

“Oh. It was very nice talking with the two of you too,” Theo flusters, apparently surprised. 

“Is there any chance we could interview you while we’re in town?” Pat asks. They nod to the waiter as he takes the check and the card away. 

“Um. I don’t really know too much about ghosts. Or the history of the area,” Theo says, face falling. 

“That’s alright. Even if your interview says something like “I’ve never seen a ghost around here ever”,” Pat says, mimicking Theo’s voice, “That’s still data about the area we can take into account. Right Sylv?” 

You startle. You’d been just watching the two of them speak and almost forgot that you were part of this equation. “Yeah. Right.” you agree. 

You feel a little bit like this conversation has gone off the rails. 

Pat takes out their phone. “Can you put in your number? I’d like to talk to you some more sometime,” they say, holding the phone out to Theo. 

He looks crestfallen. “Ah. I can but. I recently lost my phone and haven’t gotten around to replacing it. Sorry,” he says. 

“Oh. That’s a bummer,” Pat commiserates. They take their phone back. “Is there any other way I can get in touch with you? Social media? Email?” 

Theo nods. “Yes to both. I’m not too active on social media outside of my art accounts though. Um,” Theo gestures to the napkin holder, “Can you?” 

Pat hands him a napkin. 

“Thanks,” Theo says. He takes a pen out of his pocket and scribbles down his contact information. As well as his address. 

“In case you decide you want to come visit. I’m pretty much always at home unless I’m here. Or at the library, but I only go there on the weekends. So. Yeah. You can come by any time,” he rambles. 

Pat nods and accepts the napkin when Theo offers it. They glance at it, raise their eyebrows a bit, then fold it up and put it in their pocket. 

“Thanks. We’ll do that. Maybe even tomorrow if that’s alright with you?” They say. 

Theo nods. “I’d like that,” he says with a smile. Then his eyes widen as he seems to remember something. “You aren’t allergic to cats, are you? Mine, his name is Concrete, he sheds a lot and I know that can be a problem for some people,” he jitters. 

“Nope,” then Pat turns to you. “Sylv, are you allergic to cats?” they ask. 

You shrug. You have no idea. 

“Guess we’ll find out tomorrow then, huh?” Pat says with a certain something in their voice you can’t place. 

The Waitress brings Pat’s card and the check back. Pat adds a tip and signs off on it. 

“Well. This was nice, Theo. But we’ve got to bounce. See you tomorrow,” Pat says with a warm smile and a wink. 

Theo flushes a bit. “Yeah. See you tomorrow,” he says. He slides out of the booth to let you escape. 

You make sure you have all your belongings with you before you leave. 

Pat leads you out of the dinner in what you swear is the opposite direction from the entrance, but no. There’s the car in all its silvery teal glory. Your mind is playing tricks on you again. 

You get in the passenger seat, suspecting it will be a while before Pat lets you drive again. 

Pat settles in, makes sure both of you are buckled before they turn to you and say: 

“Soooooooooo. What did you think of him?” 

You shrug. “He seems sweet. Maybe a little lonely?” you guess. 

Pat nods. “Yeah I think so too. However, We need to be careful around him,” they say. They pull out of the parking lot. Headed where, you aren’t sure. 

“Wait, why? We just agreed he was nice.” You say, nonplussed. 

“He is! But he’s also our suspect,” Pat says, without looking away from the road.

[briarlovesclara]

but it's not real, and you don't exist

35 ways to say i love you number 13: in a letter | lily evans potter and sirius black (platonic)

this is a part of the 35 ways to say "i love you" writing collection. check out the rest!

PREVIEW/SYNOPSIS:

"I feel like I’m going insane every time I have to write down my memories of another friend to you. It sounds horrid, but above all I dread a day where I’m writing to someone about you. Isn’t that terrible of me? I miss all of the people we’ve lost, and I cared about them, but I didn’t love them the way I love you."

content warnings: main character death, mentioned minor character death, implied/referenced betrayal, suicidal thoughts, loss of loved ones

Dear Padfoot,

James and I cannot for the life of us decide which of these photos to use for our Christmas card this year. Before you laugh, I know it’s early July, and by the time we use them Harry will be double his current size, but we knew this would happen, so we decided to start the whole process early. 

How have you been? It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve seen you. I’m sure the Order is keeping you as busy as it’s keeping us, even with Harry. We wrote to Frank and Alice to make sure Dumbledore wasn’t just getting back at us for the bubblegum frogs in Year 5, but they’re swamped too. I told them I’d try to round up a Marauder to double babysit sometime-- I asked Peter since he loves kids so much, but he’s somehow even busier than the rest of us combined. I do miss him dearly, though.

We got the terrible news about Benjy Fenwick last week. I know it’s silly to say, but that night I just lay in bed and thought about how much alike you two looked. I remembered how kind you were to him, even though he was two years younger, and how you’d joke so much about being his brother that even the teachers called him Regulus sometimes. He was quiet, but when he laughed he wouldn’t stop for ages, remember?

I feel like I’m going insane every time I have to write down my memories of another friend to you. It sounds horrid, but above all I dread a day where I’m writing to someone about you. Isn’t that terrible of me? I miss all of the people we’ve lost, and I cared about them, but I didn’t love them the way I love you.

And I do love you, Sirius. If this war has taught me anything, it’s that we need to tell people we love them. More than even a “love you” when you leave, or only remembering the dead by how close they were to you. So I’ll write it again, just in case it keeps you safe: I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Please write back with a decision about the card. You know there’s no one’s opinion we value more.

Forever yours, 

Lily

7/7/81

Lily,

Oh, my Lily. My James. 

It is with great sadness that I am writing this letter to you, doing exactly what we both feared the most-- remembering each other. But no post is allowed outside of this God-forsaken place, and I couldn’t send it to you even if there was.

I can’t believe you’re gone. Every day I wake up and when I see where I am, I wish I was dead, but then I scold myself for even thinking that. It is the worst feeling in the world to be alive and wishing to be dead, when all you really want is to be with your friends again.

A close second on the worst feelings list is that Remus thinks I did it. That is almost as unbearable as losing you. I’ve seen the papers-- the only thing they allow in or out, when the Minister comes by every so often. I can’t tell whether I’m glad or not that I haven’t seen an interview with Remus yet. I don’t think I could bear reading his words. I can’t imagine how he’s feeling. The Marauders disbanded, all in one night. He must be so alone.

I don’t want to talk about the articles I’ve seen about the rat. He doesn’t even deserve to have his name on a letter to you.

Someone died in their cell last night. I used to hear them talking with their neighbors (or maybe cellmates, who can tell?), but they’re quiet now. The Dementors should come and get them soon enough. Maybe the rows of graves will reach outside of my window before I die, so I can at least say grace for the few poor souls near me. 

I have no idea where Harry is. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I couldn’t protect him. I heard that Hagrid got him-- I hope that’s true. 

You were always the best of us, Lils. I’m so sorry you had to be taken away from him so early. From James. From your life. And selfishly, most of all from me. 

I wish my words could change things. Sometimes, on my bad nights, I lay here and think that if I just try hard enough, I can go back and fix it all. That I could protect you. I once even dreamed the cruelest dream I’ve ever had, where it had worked, and I got to hold your face and say ‘I love you’ again. 

This letter will be neatly folded into an envelope shape and put somewhere or other. Where it goes isn’t important-- I’m not keeping it, it’s not FOR me, and I doubt the Dementors will care. Maybe I’ll ask the Minister to put it in a real envelope, unmarked, and give it to an owl. I wonder where these words will end up. Wherever they are, know that I am missing you the same as I am writing them. 

I love you, Lily. Miss you, too.

Sirius

1/8/82

[ya-boy-cheez]

i can’t really pinpoint exactly one moment where i realized that i was falling in love with you. i feel like i do all over again at least once or twice every single day. somehow you’ve cast this spell on me but of course i let you willingly. i don’t remember meeting you, i just remember seeing you more and more progressively as we grew older. you always were someone i looked up to in a way, even now you still are, but it’s different. the best kind of different. i find safety in your touch and all the things that i want are inside your brain. it drives me nuts, you really did a number to me, man. i recall the night you told me you love me, it wasn’t the first time. we’d already been saying we love each other but this time it was new. already i found that i made a complete fool of myself. i finally knew i how i felt about you. i remember how skeptical you were about telling me. it was hilarious. you said there was someone you started to feel strongly about. you gave me stupidly obvious hints but you only made it fun when you got frustrated with how i wasn’t able to make a guess. and when i did i knew it was the wrong answer. i make myself laugh when i think about how i got you to tell me but i didn’t get your message. the day after, we kissed for the very first time but it felt like i already knew your lips. you gave me the craziest summer, one i don’t ever want to forget. thank you. i would do anything to live it again twice more. you were the breeze those summer nights. every song i wrote back then had your name all over it. even when we parted ways, you still filled up every notebook. i remember sneaking into the mosh pit at the AJJ concert with you, i lost you in the crowd. i pretended i didn’t care and that all i could ever need was in the sound and lyrics. then i heard it. the song you said made you think of me. i knew at that moment it wasn’t over then, it never really ended, even now. after that you started to come by once everyday. you played songs on your banjo on the porch of the apartment my dad lives. my heart was still broken but i wanted to hear you sing. i remember working together on a film project with other kids on the rez. i remember that moment behind the stage. next to the piano. you kissed me. it was like my first again. still i was stubborn, i ran off but goddamn it was everything i wished for. i remember those thursdays where we’d go to seattle for a land restoration project. that where i started to fall harder for you. i stared to fantasize about how things may be like further down the road. back then you had a buzz cut. i already thought about how our kids wouldn’t believe me when i’d tell them about how you styled your hair, assuming it would look different by the time i’d tell them. i thought you’d like me less for imagining such things about us. you were my muse then and you are now. i won’t ever forget our gigs at the fair. i love hearing you sing. the stage was made for you. your presence, always makes my days brighter. by then it was autumn and my brain was infested with thoughts of me and you. i couldn’t ever help myself around you, i wanted to kiss, hug, and squeeze you. i want you to marry me. never felt like i was the kind of guy who’d want to settle down until you. eventually we parted our ways again. i was upset, but reminding myself i’ll still have you in my life lifting tons off of my shoulders. i’ve never met someone like you and although some may have come close but ever gotten close enough to stealing my heart like you. there. now you know you got me. i don’t think i’ll ever stop wanting to be whatever it is we are. i love that you feel the same about the possibility of having a future together. just thinking of it makes me fall for you all over again. i understand, your past has you scared of getting hurt again. i’d hate to put any pressure on you, you’re the only heart i don’t want to break.

i want you to know that you’re my favorite romcom. you’re my favorite song. you’re my favorite poem. you’re the one. the way you giggle in your sleep is just so cute. i regard you, highly.

[luminousvision]

Bankrupt

The following is mostly autobiographical and partially fictional.

— Mom called me again last week to ask about grandkids I won’t have. If I had kids and gave them half of what my mom gave up for me, I’d have nothing left. 

I remember high-school Maddie whose parents demanded repayment on the loan they took out in the form of her birth. You ought to be grateful for this opportunity, they said. You’d be living in a straw hut and tending to the fields if we were still in Vietnam. It wasn’t just Maddie. Kevin, both Karens, Miles all lived variations on the story. Every kid was a gigantic loan from The-Bank-of-What-We-Could-Have-Been, accruing interest invisibly over fifteen years, only to reveal the debt sharks in the form of kind and caring parents who swore to themselves and God that it was only out of love.

My parents empathized more than most. When I procrastinated on college apps, missed too many problems on practice SAT tests, or threw a fit at the door about my stupid teachers were, my parents listened patiently, nodding. But at dinnertime, they’d tell me when they were my age, they hunted for every last grain of rice. You are what you don’t eat, they said. They watched me put my bowl with three uneaten grains of rice in the dishwasher. That’s who I was. They knew.

They knew that an American high school kid growing up in the suburbs had no idea what it meant to leave behind their whole life, promise, family, and career behind in South Korea to start anew in a rich country where you didn’t have to build it from scratch. My dad gave up dreams of being an esteemed professor; my mom gave up dreams of corporate brilliance and financial independence from a family who decided their fourth consecutive girl was not deserving of baby photos. Both of them had converted their intellect, grit, and every last grain of rice in their bowl into hope and empowerment.

My parents knew. They knew I had no clue what they had suffered, attained, and given up for me. I know Maddie, Kevin, the Karens, Miles, and all the rest also had no idea what their parents gave up for them. 

To this day, I still don’t understand what my parents gave up. My calculator for a fulfilling life implodes when I put their numbers in it.

Maybe my parents subscribe to the ideology that sacrifice is noble and beautiful. If so, God bless their hearts and God damn their principles. I don’t want any more people sacrificing their lives for anyone else, even their kids. I don’t want to be a loan. I don’t want anyone waiting twenty years to collect their debt. I don’t care if your kid is Mahatma Gandhi. I don’t want any kid to ever look at their parents and see even a glimmer of regret in their faces silently asking themselves: “is this what I gave my life for?”

But for two seconds, forget about me as a kid. I’m in the position to choose parenthood. I’m in the position to make the greatest sacrifice. I obviously haven’t had any personal experiences here, so let me tell you the most inspirational stories I’ve heard about others.

Sometime in college, I came across the biography of Clara Schumann, the brilliant pianist and composer from a time when women were not allowed to be musical, brilliant, or really anything at all. She wrote in a letter: do you really think people in the future will remember me for my music? I think people will remember me more favorably for the great mother I was. She soon retired from music to raise three kids whose names I do not remember.

Many years later, I read the story of Judit Polgar while studying chess. She peaked at the seventh best player in the world. No other woman, even to the day I write this, has broken into the man-infested top 100. She even beat Garry Kasparov, infuriating the world champion of her day because he lost to the inferior sex that belonged in the home with her babies. Guess why she quit chess? 

I am not Clara nor am I Judit. I do not possess any quality nearly as exceptional as theirs. They are also empowered to make their own choices. I even give them the benefit of the doubt that they did not regret their decision. But I ponder their decision to take the road more traveled by and wonder who else we’ve lost in the history of human reproduction.

I am aware of the irony. There is no humanity to bemoan without parents. But this irrefutable logic is cold comfort when I listen to Schumann’s music or study Polgar’s games. I look at my dad’s research papers and pictures of my mom smiling in a Samsung office, thinking that if I could un-exist so they could live their trajectory forward twenty more years, I’d gladly take the opportunity.

My parents would be horrified. But I’ve seen that they underestimate what they gave up and who they could have been. I measured their perceived sacrifice by what it took to pay it off.

When I was accepted into Stanford, my parents demanded that we celebrate. I protested. Celebrations give too much credit to their object: a low-quality application with four shitty essays attached to it. But my parents would not budge. I was forced to celebrate with some pizza. The next day at dinner, my parents didn’t lecture me about the three grains of rice left in my bowl. Nor did they mention it the day after. They left me alone. They left me alone the same way a bank stops sending you bills once you pay off the mortgage on your house. 

When my mom called me last week to ask me about her grandkids I won’t have, I had to tell her. I needed to say it, and I needed her to hear it, even if she didn’t understand what it meant. I said: “Your lives were worth more than that.” I know mine is.

[dear-john-doe]

An Apology

You’ve been on my mind lately. I’ve been having dreams with you in them and it always makes me wake up confused.

I thought we closed that chapter. I thought I closed that chapter.

Some days I wonder what you’re doing. If you grew up and moved away and lived a better life. Or if you stayed where you were and continued as you were.

I wonder how you view me now.

Am I the villain in your story?

I think it’s fair if I am

Am I the one that got away?

I’d like to think so

Am I just a closed chapter?

I hope I am that for you

I know we talked about getting married and having kids and living this great life that no one could take away from us. I remember crying in your sweatshirt as we talked about me leaving. I couldn’t fathom a world where we weren’t together. I told you I was scared of marrying someone that wasn’t you.

I got married to someone that wasn’t you.

I don’t know if you knew.

He’s good for me. Better for me than you. A younger me would have hated that.

I wasn’t good for you and you weren’t good for me. I think that’s obvious at this point.

I got a tattoo. Not one you’d like, but still. I thought you might want to know.

I don’t know where the ring went. I don’t remember if I gave it back to you or lost it on purpose.

I messed you up.

I think about that sometimes too.

About the person I was and about how I could have been better.

But you can’t grow if you dwell on the past.

I loved you. As much as I could have back then. You didn’t know that I didn’t have much to give, but I gave all that I had to you. And that scared me. It took me being away from you to get back more of myself. I don’t hate you for that.

I hope you know that. I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever hated you.

But I don’t love you anymore.

So why do you still show up?

There aren’t any songs that I can’t listen to. Don’t get me wrong, I still know all the ones that remind me of you. But as they play in the background, all I do is smile. Not because you’re gone, but because of what they used to mean to me.

And just for a minute, I’m 17 again.

Dreaming of running away and settling down and being kids forever. Together.

But I moved on. And I don’t want to go back.

I know that’s not what the movies portray.

I’m supposed to be the one that got away that you meet years later and everything comes flooding back for me. We’ll meet up for coffee and talk about the last decade apart and then we’ll pick up where we left off

Or maybe something happens to me and you’re the first person I call. Even though we haven’t spoken in years, you’re still the first person on my mind

Or maybe we meet and you’re in love with someone else. And I regret all my decisions and beg for you to come back

I’d like to think I’m more practical than that

I also know I’m a romantic at heart

I like the idea that I’ve been on your mind all this time.

My birthday is next month

I don’t know if you remembered

I still have your number memorized

If you still have the same number.

I haven’t tried it

And that’s the thing; I don’t know why you’ve been on my mind. I’m not curious enough to call you up. I’m not unhappy or want to leave my husband for you. I’m not even upset that you may have moved on.

I just hope that I was something positive for you. Even for a minute.

I hope you don’t hate me

I want you to tell me “that’s insane. I’d never hate you”

I want you to say “you were the best part of my life”

I want you to say “I’m happy for you”

But I don’t want you in my life.

The worst part of me hopes that upsets you.

And yet the other part of me hopes you don’t want me in your life either.

The last time we talked I told you to get over me. Even though I was the one who reached out to you.

I don’t like the way I treated you then. I’m sorry.

But I do still want you to get over me

I want to understand why I still care about you. Am still curious about you. Still want you to think of me. Still want you to crave me.

Maybe I’m just conceited

That’s probably fair

And that explains my past behavior

I’m sorry.

I wish I understood what I’m trying to say

Maybe you can find something in these words to help you understand what I’m trying to convey

And if you can explain why you’re in my head, I’ll let you read these words

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

happy 200! i’m so glad to see your blog grow, it’s one of my favorites and i adore all your writing. i’ve never cried so much and i love the kind of unsettling feeling you write in your fics, it’s perfect in the category of yandere and dark content. in particular, i loved your drabble about shigaraki mourning over a dead reader and i’ve reread that one too many times to count haha! as for asks for headcannons and drabbles, it would be amazing to see that with bully!eren especially since he was such an awful person to the reader. i’d love to see him suffer honestly, but if you don’t want to write it, that’s completely fine! once again, i’m so proud of you for hitting 200! that’s such a huge milestone and hopefully, there will be many more in the future! :)

SYNOPSIS: bully!Eren has to navigate the world without you.

Pairing: Bully!Eren x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even explain in words how much I CHEESED at this message like my grin was ear to ear. can't explain how many times I read this. It singlehandedly made my day anon, and to repay you for my happiness....here is some angst. this is a slightly different route than the shiggy one but I hope it still suits you <3

TW: mentions of death, past dubcon/noncon, mentions of trauma, bullying, alcohol addiction, drunk driving, abusive behavior, revenge porn, nonconsensual photography/videography, mentions of infidelity, angst, so much of angst, violent behavior

WC: 2.5k

It's not like Eren had been doing a lot of soul-searching. He's not delusional enough to label his half-assed epiphany of "maybe I'm a shitty person" as soul searching.

It's just the conversation with his very sick mother burned holes through the back of his mind. Carla had asked about you and why you don't come by the house anymore. How she missed baking with you in the kitchen, and how you sweetly smiled whenever you would see soft creamy peaks form in the meringue.

Eren felt like he was swallowing needles as he assured his mother with false truths, that nothing was going on and distance between childhood friends is natural, and if it means so much--ok ok he'll bring you over.

He stays until he sees her chest slowly rising and falling into a gentle asleep. He touches the tip of his ears, unsurprised by how hot it was.

Eren, when you tell a lie, the tips of your ears turn red.

You're not at school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Guilt is not an emotion he feels often but the events of the past weekend replay in his mind. It was just a dumb party that Floch threw, and he was surprised to find you cornered by a trio of thee dunderheads. Like a distorted fairytale, he swept you away from the bad guys like a knight in shining armor, to only shove you in an empty room and demand compensation for playing hero.

Fuck, with that big mouth, you would think that you'd know how to suck cock.

Use your tongue stupid slut. If you use teeth, I'll shove this dick in your ass without any prep.

No, I don't care, you're taking all of it.

There's a video on his camera roll. How could he not record it? You're sobbing, mascara running down your cheeks, looking so beautiful and ruined with jizz smeared at the corner of your mouth. He was brutally fucking your mouth, making you take all of his length.

Breathe through your nose dumb whore. Or else you're gonna run out of air.

You were pleading with whatever garbled sounds you were constricted into producing.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren is conflicted with muting the video because he can't stand to hear himself like that. But he didn't want to miss out on your pitiful whines.

He remembers the distraught expression on your face when he was finally done with you. He tucked himself inside, and sneered, "I've got a girl coming here. Get lost." You looked so fucking distraught. Why? All he did was make you suck his dick. He didn't even fuck you.

He should have. Eren thinks grimly when he stares at your empty desk on the first day you didn't show up to school. He's gotten off to the video more than enough times than he can count over the weekend, and he was aching to see your pretty face twisted into a terrorized expression when he flipped up your skirt to grope your ass.

Kindly, Eren decides he'd allow you to have a rest day. But the second day, Eren pays a visit to your house finding it dark and locked, like no one was home and hadn't been there for a while.

On the third day, you're declared missing.

Your incompetent workaholic mother who finally came home and decided to give a damn reported you missing to the authorities who had scratched their heads because as far as they knew, the pivotal 72 hours were up.

Paradis was surrounded by forests. No one wanted to say it, but they were all thinking it. If you got lost in there, chances are you wouldn't make it out.

Eren wasn't always this admired and fawned over. He had his fair share of behavioral issues that frightened people (not you though, not then at least, not when you were children, and you still came back every day to play).

But when he channeled that anger into sports, there was somewhat of a star in the making, especially for some small-town boy. He was becoming extremely popular, and that's nice and all, but at the end of the day, he has a mother whose health was taking a sharp decline. He was constantly under stress, stress that he took out on you.

Where did his favorite stress-ball go?

It's all fucking surreal. Having detectives in the school. Not that there were many students to question (because christ, did you even have any friends after Eren turned everyone against you?).

Eren was questioned. He can't help but mirthfully chuckle. Maybe this was your grand plan, maybe you were able to finally sort out a mountain of evidence against him. If you were going to fuck him over, didn't you want to see it happen with your own two eyes?

The dark-haired boy wishes that was true. If you had gotten your revenge, would you be here? No, revenge isn't the right word. If you got any justice for what he made you suffer, would you come back?

Hi, I'm Detective Hange. I would like to ask you some questions today. You're Eren Yeager, right?

Yes, that's me.

How do you know ___?

We were childhood friends. We're uh, we're not as close anymore.

When was the last time you saw her?

Friday night at Floch's party-

-Floch Forster right? There were a number of kids there from your school.

Yeah. It was a big party. She uh, doesn't usually come to parties but she was there that night.

You were the last person to be seen with her. Other kids have said that they saw you and her entering a room together, and then only her leaving the said room.

[Sigh] Yeah we sorta...hooked up.

I thought you said you guys weren't close anymore.

You can be not close to someone and still hook up with them.

But you guys were close once right?

Yeah. Once.

The dark-haired boy asks if he was under any suspicion. The detective waves their hand in a dismissive gesture, “If her diary tells us anything, it’s only that she really liked you.”

Were detectives even allowed to divulge that sort of information? Eren doesn’t know but the stray detail that they offered off-handedly made him feel like he was swallowing needles.

At that point, Eren honestly still doesn't believe you're gone. You had a habit of running away, even when you were little kids, but you always came back.

Still, he participates in the search parties with a renewed vigor, even going alone in the forest with a flashlight on most nights.

And he's just so fucking tired. The darkest crevice of his mind almost wishes you were dead because this ignorance was just agony. Almost. Because he still clings to the feeling that one day, he’ll stroll into class and find you in your seat in the back of the class, looking out the window like some cliche shojo manga protagonist.

There are folders and folders on his phone. Albums. The most recent one is dedicated to your crying face as you were choking on his dick. Earlier albums are composed of creepshots of your panties, of that obscene o-face, of your skirt flipped up and your ass cheeks, pictures of your cleavage, videos of you thrashing as he dunked your head into toilets like a villainous middle school bully.

Pictures of your neck covered in hickeys, your naked breasts, ass cheeks striped with red after getting spanked, your leaking cunt, just endless and endless media dedicated to pieces and pieces of your body like you were never a whole person.

The earliest ones though tell a different tale, from off-guards to your drooling face as you napped in the middle of the day.

He has a favorite picture. Your eyes are watery from the cold, snowflakes stuck between lashes, nose and cheeks flushed red, and you're smiling. Smiling right to the camera. Right at him.

"Eren, are you taking a picture?" You asked, bouncing in place, giddy that it was finally snowing.

"Not of you, shut up. Get out of the way." His voice is gruff but not harsh.

You laughed and jumped into frame anyway, and the bright streetlamp behind you made you seem like you were wearing a halo.

He wishes he had more pictures of you being...yourself. Because now your crying face displayed over countless pixels haunt him. But like a fucking degenerate, he still jerks off to all the nudes he coerced from you. Sometimes he cries when he's jerking off which is probably the most pathetic thing he's ever done. This is what you've reduced him to.

He hates the sound of his own voice.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren goes through the motions of life without really feeling like he's in the moment. Seasons change and time flies. His mother dies, and his withdrawn father dies a year later. He proposes to Mikasa because it's something he was always supposed to do. She loves him unconditionally, so even when he doesn't put any effort into the relationship but proposes, she says yes hoping he'll change and be a good husband.

He doesn't go to his parents' funerals because they're already dead. What's the point. He doesn't visit the candlelight vigils in your honor either. After tearing his ACL again and a somewhat traumatic injury, he kisses his pro-football career goodbye. To be totally honest, he's relieved. Because he had gotten quite bored, and maybe he was looking for excuses to quit the entire time. It's not like you'd be cheering on the bleachers anyways.

Mikasa has an affair, more out of a desire to see her fiancé feel something for her as opposed to any burning lust. But when she asks him if he's ever cared at all, with tears springing out of her eyes, he's just calmly drinking his fifth of whisky.

The dark-haired man doesn't even look up, "Let's break up."

"Is this about her, huh? Fucking get over it already Eren. She's GONE. And you have some big fucking audacity moping about her death like you weren't making her cry in the bathroom stalls every fucking day you piece of shit."

"Get out."

"You know what, I bet she killed herse-"

SMASH

The dark-haired woman doesn't finish her rant because the whiskey bottle smashes on the wall next to her head, sending glass everywhere and staining the carpet amber. She's unharmed, knowing it wasn't Eren's intention to hit her but Jesus Christ, what a monster.

She packs her bags and leaves the town like she should have a long time ago. All her friends had left years before and she stayed behind because that's where Eren was. She thanks her lucky stars that they didn't marry.

It's funny because he had always imagined himself being the first to move out of their small town, but he's the one staying. He can't leave this place. feels too tethered to ever leave. Every diner and liquor store is saturated with memories of you. He remembers buying cigarettes and exhaling the smoke to your face to piss you off in empty parking lots.

Maybe he stays in case you'll come back.

Eren's days consist of alcohol-fueled hazes. He doesn't know how his liver is still functioning. He doesn't know he's still alive after crashing his car into a tree when he was drunk out of his mind. He was on his way to get some more vodka.

He barely recognizes himself in the mirror anymore, not that he looks at himself much. His hair is long, nestled around his shoulder because he couldn't be bothered to cut it, dark circles under viridian eyes, and a perpetual stubble on his jaw.

His parents had left quite a sizable inheritance so there's no need to work but he's good with his hands. Likes crafting up birdhouses and cabinets, and occasionally does odd jobs around the neighborhood, never charging the elderly.

He's under the sink, tinkering with a wrench against the pipes when he hears the old lady coo at him.

"We're so lucky to have you Eren. I'm surprised a handsome young man like yourself doesn't have a special lady. The girls must be lining up at your door!"

The dark-haired man winces, and offers no comment, knowing that that the older lady was susceptible to long tangents.

"You know, we're getting a new neighbor." Eren grunts as a response. "They're young, I've heard. Isn't that exciting? Oh my, Eren! I think they're gonna be living in the house right next to yours..."

He tunes out the rest of the conversation because doesn't really care. He just hopes his new neighbors are quiet.

It's Sunday noon when obnoxious noises of moving trucks and people wake him up from his deep slumber. Eren's annoyed to wake up despite the fact he's probably been sleeping over 15 hours. He oscillates between getting too much sleep and getting none, his sleeping habits completely dependent on his dreams.

His nightmares are too visceral, visions of your corpse asking him if he'd enjoyed hollowing your soul with his teeth.

His dreams are achingly sweet. You in your prom gown, shining so iridescently like diamonds were sewn into the silk. He's dancing with you, holding you close, and then after you guys go to your favorite diner and gorge on burgers and milkshakes.

There's a peal of distinctly feminine laughter that stirs up Eren's senses. He's so pathetic, was the mere sound of a woman laughing getting him excited?

He sighs. He thinks of the whore he's frequently visited because of her resemblance to you. Hair color, skin color, face shape--with enough alcohol, he could really convince the person beneath him, was you. Maybe it's time to give her a call, but she's gotten so fucking needy and he hated how her voice didn't match yours.

The green-eyed man peers from the lace curtains, irritated by the brats playing on his lawn. A full family next door? Great, just what he needs.

The friendly knock on his door breaks him out of his daze. He contemplates whether he should answer but on the second more muted knock, he lets his feet guide him.

He turns the knob.

And Eren Yeager completely shatters.

Because it's you isn't it? You're the person standing in front of him? He can hear what you're saying but he doesn't really register it, soaking in the cadence of a voice he had long forgotten because all he had were pleading whimpers and frenzied moans stored on his cell.

He's shaking. Is he dreaming? He's dreaming, right? He knows it's you. You're older, far more beautiful than he's ever seen you. You have a different hairstyle, wearing clothes he would have mocked you for, and there's this joyfulness within you that makes you glow.

There's a mess of emotions electrifying in the pits of his stomach from euphoria, anger, and dread. He could feel his skin growing clammy like he was about to vomit at any second.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Doe eyes full of concern peer up at him. He voices out the syllables of your name like a desperate prayer.

You tilt your head to the side, "How do you know my name?"

[blu-joons]

Age Gap Relationship ~ Kim Mingyu

You immediately turned your phone off when you noticed Mingyu walking into the room, placing it down on the arm of the sofa. His eyes watched over you closely as you shuffled in your seat, giving him a bit of space beside him, trying your best to force a hint of a smile onto your face.

“What have you been up to?” He asked, knowing by the look in your eyes that something wasn’t quite right, “something about the article release?”

Your head nodded, knowing that Mingyu had advised you several times to try and ignore what was said about you, especially on the first day of such a huge release to the fans.

The two of you were sure that you were careful as you headed down to the park a couple of evenings ago, convinced that the streets would be quiet. You thought that you were clear, only when you woke up in the morning, your names were trending on every social media platform.

“I’m sure you can guess what most people are talking about,” you weakly smiled, as his head nodded back at you, “I’m not surprised really, if I was them, I’d be asking the exact same questions.”

It didn’t take long before journalists managed to dig up some information on you, making sure their articles were as detailed as possible. Before you knew it, just about every detail about you was public knowledge, with your age attracting most of the attention.

“You know most of them are just gutted that they’re not able to walk in your shoes,” Mingyu tried to comfort, moving his arm across to wrap around your shoulders.

“Most of them probably want to know what you’re thinking being with me.”

Mingyu’s head shook as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head in an attempt to silence your doubts. He understood your concerns, but each time you fretted, he made sure to remind you how happy he was with you, despite the couple of years between you both.

He had always grown up knowing that age was just a number, the one thing that his parents always told him to focus on was his happiness, and he knew that he had that with you.

“I don’t care that people are obsessed about the differences between us, I want to focus on the similarities instead,” Mingyu prompted, “we’re great together, aren’t we? We get on, we have similar interests, aren’t those the things that relationships are supposed to be about?”

Your head nodded, knowing that as ever, Mingyu made a great point, despite your concerns, there were much more important things about your relationship that meant much more to you both too.

“I know it’s a lot for you to get your head around right now,” Mingyu acknowledged.

In just a few short hours it felt as if your world had been turned upside down, you’d gone from being a nobody, to having thousands mentions you, unaware of what most of them were saying too.

“I feel a little lost, it’s all quite a bit to get my head around,” you explained to him, “maybe I’m overthinking bits of it, especially the mentions about our age.”

Mingyu always knew that when the time came it was going to be a soft spot for you, despite your relationship being seemingly normal to most, he expected not quite such a positive reaction from his fans. Many of them couldn’t understand what you had that they didn’t, especially when you were of such a similar age too.

“Is this how we carry on forever now?” You questioned him.

“Give it a day or two, something new will happen.”

As your phone continued to buzz beside you, you were struggling to imagine how the two of you went forwards. You didn’t know the industry like Mingyu did though, trusting that he would know what was best for you both.

“Do you still want to be with me though?”

“Of course,” he replied straight away, “I’ve not given you anything to make you think that I don’t want to, have I?”

Your head shook in reply as you tried your best to silence the voice in the back of your head. You knew that Mingyu loved you, he told you enough times, whether your relationship was private or not, you just wished the part of you that doubted so much would be quiet and just let you be happy for once.

“I don’t want to ruin what you’ve made for yourself Mingyu.”

His head shook with yours, tightening his grip around you even more, making sure that you didn’t go anywhere, sticking by his side.

“You’ve not ruined anything; you’ve improved it instead.”

Seeing his name mentioned always made Mingyu shiver, but seeing his name mentioned with you brought a wide smile to his face, knowing that everyone knew about you both.

Unlike you, Mingyu felt confident in your relationship being revealed, he didn’t care about the fact that he had a younger partner, and he certainly didn’t care about what many of the fans had to say, especially those who decided to go on the attack with you.

“Nothing bad is going to come of this,” he reminded you, “it might be earlier than we wanted it to be, but doesn’t it feel nice to know it’s done now?”

You thought for a moment, shrugging your shoulders at his question anyway. “I’m glad that we don’t have to worry about it anymore, but we still didn’t expect it to happen this early, right now I feel as if I’ve just been thrown into the deep end.”

You’d had no time to prepare for the sudden attention you received, to prepare for the comments of love, and of hate too, that suddenly came your way in their thousands, when usually your social media feeds were dead during the day.

“It must be different for you, having your name caught up in something like this,” you noted.

“I’m used to it,” Mingyu chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your shoulder, “I’ve handled much worse situations than this before and got through it, people knowing that I’m happy and in love certainly isn’t going to bring me down.”

His words brought a smile to your face, assuring you without even knowing that he was doing it. Each time you were reminded how happy Mingyu was, was another boost to your confidence in trusting that everything would be alright.

If anyone knew his fans, Mingyu did, and even though things felt pretty low currently, he was sure things would get better, and therefore, you were too.

“As long as we remain as a team whilst we ride this out, there’s nothing to worry about,” Mingyu whispered across to you, “nothing bad can happen from this.”

“I’m trusting you; I really hope that you’re right too Mingyu.”

His head nodded, offering you a wide smile, “nothing, height, weight, age, hometown, matters, we’re just two people, just like any other relationship.”

“Can you tell everyone else that too?” You joked, “get them off of my back as soon as we possibly can.”

“Things will be alright, everyone’s shocked and confused right now, but this just means that now I get to show the world how amazing you are.”

Your head nodded in reply, “do you think the world is ready for you to do that?”

“I don’t care, I’ll be there to do it anyway.”

---

Masterlist

[shotorozu]

hello!! i saw that your requests were open and wanted to ask if you could do single dad! atsumu suna and sakusa falling in love with reader, like it's sort of a meet cute (or not) but the reader falls for them and the kid and happiness lskfjsdfk have a great day!!

single dad! falling for reader

character(s) : miya atsumu, suna rintarou, sakusa kiyoomi (haikyuu!!)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, timeskip au! (because,, single dads.)

headcanon type : fluff, crack and angst if you squint (x reader)

warning(s) : mentions of the character’s ex wives, the ex-wives being jerks for multiple different reasons and ways (so,, be warned. for negligence, not very detailed hitting, and cheating, but not on reader)

note(s) : me, writing for haikyuu?? wow, a surprise! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for haikyuu so if i don’t get the characterization correctly— ESPECIALLY FOR SAKUSA, i’m sorry in advance.

»»————-　♡　————-««

miya atsumu

at first, his marriage was happy. miya atsumu— successful in his 20s, basically set for life, and with a head strong wife that gave him a wonderful daughter

he was elated when his son, genji came into this world. he wouldn’t swap him out for anyone else. and it was all good, really

until he started spotting marks on genji’s delicate skin, and he even found a large bruise on his shoulder when he was changing his shirt! he almost passed away seeing that

genji would also have a sudden fear of being alone in the house— even when his mother would stay behind to take care of him

but why though? genji’s only 4! what could’ve happened to him? he doesn’t recall hiring any babysitters.

he finally found the answer one day, when he found out that his head strong, intense wife— has been physical with him!

basically, all the love for his wife flew out the window, and he filed for a divorce— and of course, he won custody

and he assumed that his love life would stop at that— and it didn’t sound terrible. all that mattered was that his son was safe, and happy again

but this is where you come in

you work at a toy store, a small business toy store really, that sold the highest of quality only

and atsumu took genji to either replace, or fix the toy he broke a few days back. the place was recommended to him by shoyo— who also had a kid of his own

you’re just two years younger than him, eyes full of determination and care, practically the complete opposite of his ex-wife.

you put up a good conversation with him, while you fixed the toy— the two of you talking about the mutual friends, and that ‘this place should be a lot more popular.’

and also, his son did happen to take a liking to you. he seemed joyous in your presence— compared to how he was with his ex-wife

and from that moment on, the two of you would only become closer— especially when a bunch of his son’s toys started breaking magically

before atsumu knew it, he harbored something for you— the absolute angel you were to the both of them

“‘m sorry for the inconvenience,” the faux blond scratches the back of his next “didn’t know genji here was a ‘lil clumsy weasel,”

you laugh, and genji’s just staring at you with amusement, “it’s fine, genji could break his entire toy box— and i’d still fix it anyway.”

so this was the nerve wracking part, “to make up for it, would you like some coffee later? i could treat ‘ya.”

“is this yer way of askin’ Y/N—”

“shut yer mouth for a sec— uhm,” he looks at you, sheepishly

you laugh, “miya, i wouldn’t mind honestly. but i’d assume you’re busy as it is.”

“not at all!” atsumu replies, “i’ll just, drop off genji first. say yer thanks to Y/N,” atsumu looks at genji, encouraging him to say his thanks

“,,thanks for fixing my toys, Y/N.”

“no problem, genji.” you smile at the two of them when they move to leave the store, fixed toys in hand— as they wave at you before parting

“oh, Y/N?” atsumu calls out,

“yeah?”

“call me atsumu— from now on.” his cheeks are tinted pink, and he can feel genji’s eyes on him.

“oh, uhm. yeah! i’ll see you later, atsumu.”

so yeah— the two of you went out for some coffee, and before he even knew it, he was in love.

it might take him a few months to realize it though

suna rintarou

i can’t imagine him having kids for some reason 💀 but if he were to have any, he’d definitely have a daughter

rintarou himself, didn’t think he would have kids at at all, really. but the moment he was able to meet asuka— his lovely little daughter

he was hooked. he seemed a little awkward at first, not very used to caring for a child. but he was actually decent at his job

he’d sneak into his daughter’s room to hold her when she was upset— even when his wife was too knocked out to realize it, and he’d show her picture books

since she liked them a lot, even when she can’t coherently read a straight paragraph yet.

it started to concern him when he realized how little his wife was involved in the development of their daughter.

she started acting different, a little bit after she didn’t have to breastfeed asuka

and then, that’s when it happened.

“i literally can’t believe you,” he speaks when he’s packing his things, “we have a child together.”

his soon to be ex wife is on the floor, begging him to stay— but he doesn’t care. “look, the idea of you cheating wasn’t very surprising. i don’t care anymore, really. but the fact that you’ve been neglecting asuka for your selfish needs is low. i hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

his words are so much different that his lenient, calm self. which only solidifies reality

so he leaves with asuka, not caring about the sobs that left his soon to be ex wife’s mouth.

and even though he was still angry at his wife for not being there, he’d never let it show to asuka

he’d still show her picture books, he’d still sit down and watch miraculous ladybug with her— even when she doesn’t understand it all completely

and speaking of picture books— he decided that he needed to buy more for her

so he took her to the bookstore, and he didn’t really know what he was doing. he bought all those previous books when asuka was still a newborn

now it’s a little fuzzy on what he should be looking for. colors, right? he needs a picture book that has plenty of colors.

and that’s where you come in. you’re youthful, despite looking not that far off his age, you’re humming to yourself as you fix the bookshelves

“uhm,” he calls out for your help, and you look at him in recognition “need any help? what are you looking for?”

there’s a helpful glint in your eyes, and it reminded him of what should’ve been in his ex wife’s eyes. “my daughter, likes picture books. and,, i don’t know what i’m doing.”

she’s basically a replica of him, same eye color, and same hair color. but her eyes are much more rounded, youthful.

“cute kid,” you smile when she coos at you, “the children books are this way, follow me!” you exclaim, moving to navigate your way to the children’s book isle

so it seems to be that you really know what you’re doing. most people would’ve recommended picture books with a lot of words, or just no words at all

but you’ve found the books that made asuka exclaim in happiness.

and although it’s not very obvious that rintarou’s caring to his child— he is, and you could tell. despite looking lost, and sometimes bored when you’re explaining the books.

so every 2 weeks, the father would return with his daughter, after he got back from volleyball— and you’d help them pick out on certain books.

rintarou assumed he’d never take a liking in anyone again, but,, here he is. and he doesn’t know how you’ll react to that.

but it’s worth a try— he’d try and get your number when he’d see you again

the next time you see him, the middle blocker’s alone. and he tells you that he needs more picture books for asuka, since she’s staying over at his volleyball friend’s house for a day

“Y/N,”

“yes?” you turn your head, meeting his stare. he looks well,, himself. like how he first sought out for your help a few weeks back

“,, could i get your number? y’know, just in case asuka wanted worded books in the future. you’ve helped a lot, so,,”

you smile, “is this your way of hitting on me?”

he didn’t think it was that obvious, “what?— i mean,” he fumbles to reason out, feeling a bit more awkward. because yes, he’s asking you out but,, he has the power to make things more laxed, y’know?

truthfully, you don’t know much about him. you know a lot about his daughter, sure! but you don’t know anything about her biological mother, or what happened, or why she’s not taking asuka to the bookstore

but you chose not to ask, out of respect. he’d tell you some other day. “i’m just teasing,” you smile, moving to get a small piece of paper— writing your digits on the paper, and placing it in his pocket

“i’d like to see you again,” you smile, “say hi to asuka for me.”

the middle blocker left the store in content, absolutely sure that asuka would love to see you again even when she can’t form proper sentences.

sakusa kiyoomi

didn’t think he’d be fit to be a father— but here he is

though he seems cold, he does take responsibility, and he does love and care for his child, seina

it’s not like he’ll be posting pictures of his child everywhere— i mean, even if he had a different personality, he still wouldn’t be posting his kid everywhere

but he does cherish seina, like his life depended on it. he’d still silently watch her cross out word puzzles in a messy matter, he’d silently listen to her talk about her favorite pastries

he loves her!

so that’s why it made him mad, when even after 4 years of seina being born, her mother made little to no effort in spending time with her

doesn’t matter if it was a simple gesture like tucking her in, or showing up to a birthday— she just,, never did.

it was almost as if she was ignoring seina, which causes some distraught on the child’s behalf— which passed on the negative feeling to him

like,, seina wasn’t an unbearable kid. sure, she acted up here and there, that’s an issue kiyoomi has been trying to fix on his own

but it was nothing too concerning, and it was containable. but his wife treated her like she was absolutely unbearable

and it was super strange because, she’d act normal around him, but would barely acknowledge her own daughter’s existence

so what did kiyoomi do? he confronted her, of course.

and no— his wife wasn’t cheating, and nothing tragic happened that would’ve caused her to be this way

she was just,, lazy

“so.. you gave birth and stopped caring for her? is that it?” furious was an understatement, considering that his wife forgot to make her daughter breakfast

which caused her to sneak out of the house, and ask for some breakfast from some nice neighbors.

“look, if you want nothing to do with her, just say that. i’m taking seina, and leaving.” so yeah now he’s a single father.

to say he didn’t love her was too quick, a part of him didn’t love the fact that his wife loved him, but didn’t show any sign of affection towards her daughter.

he knew it was going to fade away anyway. his feelings for his unofficial ex wife.

and i don’t think he’d plan on seeing new people, since now these days— people just like the idea of being with him

which meant that most people would’ve been scared away, or turned off if they really sat down in a conversation with him

besides the point, kiyoomi was taking his daughter to the bakery again— as she was craving new pastries, and wanted to go to the new bakery that just opened near by

and kiyoomi was like “why not ig” and took her there— but then, this is where he’d meet you for the first time

you were one of the bakers, and it’s not like he was going to pay attention to you— until you did something even HE couldn’t do

“papa, whyyyy” the whining sounding painful in his ears, as his daughter clung to the display of pastries “can’t we get moreeee??”

“seina,” he sighs, “no, we can’t.”

“but—”

“papa, you’re no fair!” her bottom lip trembles, and he could almost FEEL the judgmental stares of the other customers in the bakery

and this is where you come in, “is something the matter?”

“papa won’t.. get me more!” she stares at the selection of pastries, “i’ve been so nice but.. it’s no fair!” her eyes tear up

“don’t cry,” you bend down to blot her tears away with a tissue, “y’know, he probably has a reason, but you’re in luck— actually!” you maneuver behind the counter

you come out from behind, presenting a fresh batch of pastries— that were just right to his daughter’s liking, to the point that it shut her up entirely

“they’re on the house, today’s our opening day, so it’s the bakery’s treat!”you state in a warming matter, grabbing a paper bag to place the pastries in

kiyoomi stares at you, observing you quietly— you could feel his cold stare, even though he’s wearing a medical face mask, that covers about half of his face

you blink, not knowing what is going through his head, and you gesture to his daughter to take them

you clearly don’t know who he is— and that gives kiyoomi some sort of relief, compared to the other customers that are murmuring to each other “sakusa kiyoomi’s here with his daughter! is this what he does in his free time?”

kiyoomi takes the paper bag, giving some sort of non verbal acknowledgement, before he takes his daughter’s hand and leaves

“bye, kind person!” seina calls out to you, which catches you off guard— this causes your coworkers to coo at the girl’s words

“didn’t know sakusa’s daughter was so cute!”

and you’d assume that your interactions with the quiet stranger and his daughter would end at that, but no! life is full of surprises.

the tall masked father comes in again, a little bit before closing time— you were absolutely beat, your back feeling as if boulders were glued to the back, and your feet burning from all of the rush

“oh, what could i do for you?”

he stays quiet, but a small presence sticks behind him, and peers up to you. the face is familiar to you, so you wave “hi there! it’s nice to see you again.”

“i wanna say thanks.” her rounded eyes practically shimmer when they lay themselves on the pastries again, but she shakes her head “for the pastries! they’re very tasty.”

“i’m glad you like them, what was your favorite part of the pastry?”

“the filling! twas yummy!” she gives a toothy grin, “tell me, where ‘dya learn to bake like that?”

kiyoomi stares at the scene unfolding before him. it was.. new. unfamiliar— he hasn’t seen his daughter act like this with anyone else— besides him and his team mates. so, he simply watched.

seina babbled and babbled, much to the your amusement— and the other staff members. you listened to her with your full attention, your interest never wavering in the slightest

it’s a bit later, kiyoomi holds a tired seina in his arms— you expect him to leave the bakery, his daughter’s wishes been fulfilled, and he wouldn’t have a reason to stick around

but then he presents to you a large stack of cash “for the pastries. my,, daughter really liked them.”

your eyes widen, “sir! i told you, the pastries were on the house!” you shake your head, “either way, i can’t take this! it’s too much for some pastries!”

“no, seina insists. in fact, she’s entirely why i’m here.” his tone stays consistent, but even with the mask— you could tell that he’s smiling. “she’s well,, everything. if she’s set on something, then she’ll do everything to achieve her goal.”

you smile at the statement, “thanks for bringing her here sir..?”

kiyoomi hesitates to tell you his name for a moment, an unfamiliar, yet familiar pound in his chest rises— he chooses to not figure it out right now, considering that it would be too soon to pursue a romantic relationship.

but, if his daughter brought him here, then it must be for a reason. “kiyoomi.”

“right,” you smile, “thanks for coming here, kiyoomi. you can give me a call, if seina wants any more pastries.” you write your number on a piece of paper, and hand it to him

he doesn’t reply, but he does take the piece of paper anyway— keeping it in his pocket

and for once, he thinks that he doesn’t hate having to go to the bakery weekly., because there’ll be a warm presence there to greet him— and of course, seina.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own hq!! and it’s characters. haikyuu!! belongs to furudate haruichi, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))

[sounwise]

On Robert Fraser’s relationship with Paul:

MICK JAGGER: There was a slight aura of raffishness about [Robert]. He wasn’t a straight dealer. As far as I was concerned Robert was this interesting taste-maker, but he was obviously always on the make and it was a bit worrying. He was obviously a hustler. I don’t think he ripped people off, but the paintings did seem very expensive when you didn’t have the money. But they’re even more expensive now. Robert wasn’t a very good businessman. Anyway, it was a good hustle for everyone. If Robert was going to hit me up for money, that was the number—£1,000. If it was now it would be £10,000. Still not a huge amount of money. MARIANNE FAITHFULL: Of course Mick was very resistant. In the male macho league, he thought he was being taken for a ride by Robert and Stash. Anyway, I had the very unedifying experience of watching Mick Jagger say no to this painting. Robert couldn’t believe it. There was a moment when he realized Mick would never be good for selling paintings to. He wasn’t a Paul McCartney in that respect. […] KEITH RICHARDS: You’d get a phone call from Robert: ‘I say, loan me a couple of grand. This painting that I was supposed to have sold—they’ve taken it but they’ve not paid me.’ He didn’t mind putting the touch on you. Sure, yeah. Always got the money back. He was never a sponger. ‘Could you tide me over? I could go to my mother, but I hate to do that.’ ‘Oh, don’t go to Mother. Here.’ My other feeling was that he nurtured the Beatles, specially Paul. He liked John very much, but I always thought there was a slight sense of manipulation. He saw the obvious possibilities of being associated with the Beatles at the time. The Stones? Everybody kinda knew. We were just sort of friends. I’ve got the feeling he pulled a few things with the Beatles, deal-wise, that he wouldn’t have done with us, and didn’t try with us. He’d try and sell me things. ‘This is a wonderful thing.’ ‘Yeah,’ I’d say. MICK JAGGER: I think Robert saw the Beatles as a hustle. Everyone did. They were the richest people in that age group. Very silly with their money. They didn’t seem to care. They did very good things, like Sgt Pepper, and did attract good people. But people did target them as a hustle. Robert saw them as a gravy train when he knew that I was not. First of all, I was too suspicious. Second, I didn’t have the cash. I was to get the cash, but I didn’t have it then. Which is unfortunate, because I could have ended up owning all these Magrittes and things. PAUL MCCARTNEY: Robert wasn’t good with money. I lent him bits of money that I didn’t see back. The way I looked at it, he’d actually made me so much money with some of the paintings he’d helped me get that it didn’t matter. We didn’t have to dot the i’s and cross the t’s. I figured I’d won financially. Not that it was a competition, but he certainly made me a lot more money than he lost me. But he did have a bad reputation with money.

[—from Groovy Bob: The Life and Times of Robert Fraser, Harriet Vyner]