#I wrote this at midnight so I’m just now seeing all of the grammatical errors… I’m slowly fixing them.

[jailgarden]

Totally Legit Recap of 2.3 Trailer

Screwllum, Dr. Ratio and Jade plan to turn Firefly into Butterfly, using the power of Jade’s jade.

It would be very costly to use a cornerstone for such a reason, but Jade has pygolampidaphobia (the fear of fireflies) and needs for this to be done.

Sparkle, an avid firefly fan, catches whiff of this scheme and warns the trailblazer.

“We need a bomb to prevent your little firefly from becoming a butterfly, the universe’s very existence depends on it”.

After expressing brief annoyance of being distracted from Robin’s “Yo, Where did my Bro go” concert, the trailblazer agrees to help.

While Sparkle and the trailblazer make a million Sparkle plushies. Firefly was watching and listening in the whole time. Her eyes widened in shock, a butterfly? She could not let this happen, lest her eyes begin to waterfall.😔

As much as she appreciated her friends’ help, Firefly knew that the only way to truly prevent Butterfly from becoming a reality was to fulfill the script, her third, and final death.

Firefly watched as Sparkle held up one of the plushies. The altruistic Sparkle put something inside the doll, and its eyes began to glow.

“That must be the one” Firefly thought.

At that moment, Sparkle gets a call. She looks at the contact and her eyes light up, showing the trailblazer the phone. The two of them exit the room, leaving the Sparkle plush unattended.

Firefly quickly grabs the doll, activates SAM, and takes to the sky one last time, not knowing that she just made a grave mistake.

That was not the bomb…

Just as Firefly begins her ascent, Sparkle and the trailblazer answer the plot-twisting call, a call, from Boothill.

Sparkle speaks first, “Are you in position”?

Boothill says something southern in confirmation

“Haha, great! Now we just wait.”

Boothill waits in southern silence

The trailblazer goes back into the room only to quickly run out. “It’s gone!”

“What!? Who took it?”

The Galactic Baseballer frantically shakes their head. “I don’t know, but that was our prototype of singing Sparkles, how are we supposed to profit off of Robin’s depressive episode now?”

The twin-tail maniac then sighs. “Okay, you know what? Change of plans. Boothill, don’t just get Jade, blow up that entire airship, NOW!”

Boothill southernly ends the call

After ending the call, Boothill smashes through one of the Feldspar airship’s windows. As he falls, he takes carful aim with his gun, a gun that contains the real bomb, the Bullet Bill Bomb!

Firefly continues to fly higher and higher, and out of anxiety (anticipation?) of what’s about to happen, she squeezes the Sparkle plush.

A sounds emanates from the Sparkle wannabe.

Firefly stops and hovers in the air. She turns the doll around and opens the velcro on the back. Inside the doll was, a toy speaker? And it’s playing Robin’s new super depressive song!?

The surprisingly not short girl paled. If this wasn’t the bomb, then-

She quickly looks down, but it’s too late.

The Bullet Bill Bomb had been shot. The Feldspar airship exploded in a beautiful burst. Bystanders watching from Robin’s concert cheered, mistaking it for a firework. The trailblazer rejoiced, believing that her dear friend was saved. Robin wondered where her brother was.

In a last attempt to save everyone aboard, Aventurine used his skill, but due to his cursed luck, he could only shield himself.

Topaz, Jade, and Screwllum? All dead. Boothill? He too, fell to his demise.

Aventurine plummeted to the ground. His landing, though not graceful, was one that didn’t kill him, it never would…

He looked up, dazed and confused, trying to process what had just occurred.

Just then, with worm Aha powers, Ratio suddenly appeared in front of him, concern and anger in his expression.

Aventurine swallowed the lump in his throat, he knew what had happened, but he had to ask, even if it was just to stamp out that last shred of hope that stubbornly lingered.

“Are they… did anyone else survive?”

One glance at Ratio’s somber expression told him more than words ever would. Aventurine let out a pitiful laugh.

“Ha… of course”. He took a breath before questioning, “How, wh-why did this happen?”

Ratio, using Ratio knowledge, explained the entire plot to Aventurine.

Aventurine’s eyes narrowed.

If Firefly had just let her friends take care of things, Jade could have been the only causality. He didn’t care about her, and Screwllum? SCREW HIM!

Topaz was the only one he considered a friend there, and she’s now gone too.

Aventurine was tired of luck taking people away from him, from now on, he’s taking it into his own hands.

As Ratio helps the lovely blond director up to his feet, they watch as Firefly makes her escape, like a shooting star in the night. That was his target.

Firefly then spends the rest of her years on the run, only trying to escape the imaginary duo. It seems that her script was fulfilled. She truly died a horrid death, the death of her dignity, her (some other important thing), and her heart.

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Just The Way You Are

ao3 link! hope you enjoy this, tell me what you think! apologies for any grammatical errors!

Este o poveste lungă și nu una pe care sunt dispusă să o împărtășesc acum - It's a long story and not one I'm willing to share now

***

You always made sure to keep to yourself when doing your chores, never complaining about then even if some of them sounded impossible to get done. Fortunately, your shy and quiet demeanour kept you out of trouble with the Lady of the Castle and her daughters. So, when it came time for Lady Dimitrescu to pick a new handmaiden at the sudden demise of her old one, it wasn’t a surprise when she picked you. You only had one task that night and it was to bring her her midnight tea.

“Since it’s your first night, I wrote out how the Lady likes her tea. Memorise it and then get rid of the note when you get the chance.” Garbriela said. She was the Head of Staff.

You nodded your head. “And the, um, special stuff is here, right?” You asked. Gabriela nodded her head. “Okay, okay. Wish me luck.” You said as you grabbed the tray and headed up to the Lady’s chambers.

You made sure to memorise how much tea to pour, how much sugar she liked, and how much of Lady Dimitrescu’s special additive to put in. Oh, and that little drizzle of lavender honey she liked so much. You put the piece of paper in your apron and then knocked on the door. There wasn’t a reply, but you entered the room still, you didn’t want to get in trouble with the Lady on your first night as her handmaiden.

You set the tea down on the table that the note mentioned, although the description was a little vague. You thought about putting together her tea, but you waved the idea away since Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t in the room. Looking at the clock, you realised that you’d been a bit early, assuming that’s why the Lady was nowhere to be found in her chambers. Not wanting to just stand around waiting for her, you decided to tidy the room up a bit.

You straightened up the pillows on the lounge, straightened up her bed, and then made your way over to her vanity disregarding her laundry until you were dismissed by the Lady. You picked up her signature shade of lipstick and stared at it. She had all kinds of lipsticks, eyeshadows, and blushes lying around on the desk. You always thought that she looked beautiful with and without makeup on, but you would never have the courage to admit your little crush on her.

You frowned as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, lipstick still in your hand. You didn’t like how flawless your skin was, in your eyes. Sure, your acne wasn’t bad, but you still felt like it made unattractive and you were insecure about it. Maybe that’s why you felt like you’d never be able to work up the courage to tell the Lady how you felt about her. Since the moment you stepped foot in the castle, you really did make sure to keep to yourself, but a part of you hoped that one day the Lady would push you to be more out there like the other maids. She never gave you criticism or compliments on your work around the castle like she did them and it made you wonder if you were really right for the job as her handmaiden. Maybe if you were to cover up your acne, make yourself more attractive then she’d give you more attention instead of just allowing you to scamper through the castle like a little mouse.

“See anything you’d like to try?” A voice asked, startling you. You recognised it as Lady Dimitrescu and dropped the lipstick before turning to face her. You were paralysed with fear and frozen to the spot where you stood while she stalked closer to you. “No, need to be afraid, draga mea. I don’t bite… hard, that is.” She gave you a grin, one of her fangs poking out from behind the expression.

“La-Lady Dimitrescu, I, um, my apologises. I was just,” You cut yourself off and gestured to the room. She raised her eyebrow. “Cleaning. I was cleaning.”

Lady Dimitrescu hummed. “Is that what you call rummaging through my makeup and staring at yourself in the mirror?” Lady Dimitrescu asked. Your face flushed. “Oh, no need to be embarrassed, draga mea. As I asked before, see anything you’d like to try?”

You bit your lip before nodding your head a bit. Lady Dimitrescu hummed again before she walked over to the tray that had her tea on it. You had finally managed to find your footing and rushed over to the tray. “Um, let me, my Lady. Where would you like your tea?” You asked as you began making it for her.

“The vanity. And do make yourself a cup, if you wish.” Lady Dimitrescu replied as she watched you closely. She watched you for a few seconds more before turning to head back to the vanity. “Would you like me to do your make up, iubirea mea?”

You didn’t reply as you brought her tea over to the desk. Do you say yes? Do you say no? “I wouldn’t want to take up your time, my Lady.” You said.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a small laugh as she sipped her tea. “Delightful. But, my dear, I simply do not mind the task since I am proposing it. You wouldn’t deny your mistress the pleasure of something so frivolous, would you?” You shook your head. “Good, good, now sit.” You sat down in the chair on the side of her.

“When you are putting on your makeup, it’s like you’re an artist. But instead of painting on a canvas, you’re painting on a face.” Lady Dimitrescu said. You stared at her for a bit. “It’s not polite to stare, little one. Now close your eyes for me.” You did so and felt something wet wipe across your face, your assumed it was a makeup wipe to make sure your face was clean.

“Where did you learn how to do makeup, my Lady?” You asked. You felt something glide across the bottom of your closed eyelid.

Lady Dimitrescu didn’t reply for a while, focused on the task at hand. When she pulled away you open your eyes a bit and she gave you a small smile. “I learned from my mother. I was always fascinated when I watched her do her makeup with her friends. She was an actress, not a popular one, but she still made a name for herself. Didn’t your mother ever teach you how to do your makeup?” Lady Dimitrescu replied.

You shook your head. “No. My, um, my mother died when I was young. I hardly remember her. I spent most of my life going through different foster homes until I, well, ran away. Somehow, I found myself here in Romania and then I was chosen to get sent to the castle. The villagers weren’t too keen on having an outsider around them, can’t say I blame them, to be honest.” You gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I, you didn’t ask for my life story. I apologise, my Lady.” You lowered your head as you chewed on your lip again.

Lady Dimitrescu lifted your head back up by your chin. “Close your eyes for me again, dear. That’s a good girl.” She started to apply eyeshadow to your eyelids. “You’re right, I didn’t ask for our backstory, but I am sorry you led such a life before finding your way to me and my castle, iubirea mea.” You felt your face flush at her saying that you’d found your way to her. “You remind me of someone I knew a lifetime ago.” She was silent for a while after that. You revelled in the silence, trying to will yourself to add on to her conversation.

“One of your old staff members, my Lady?” You asked. You still had your eyes closed, but you heard the sharp breath she took. “I’m sorry, my Lady. I feel I might’ve crossed a line by asking.” You said rather quickly.

“No, no, my dear, it’s fine. It’s just a rather touchy subject.” Lady Dimitrescu replied. “To answer your question, yes and no. They started out a maid and became something more to me and my daughters. I was in love and we were quite the happy family once upon a time, if you can believe that.” The Lady let out a dry laugh and you felt yourself frown a bit at the self-deprecation of her voice. “Don’t frown, drag mea, you’ll get wrinkles.” Lady Dimitrescu chastised and you softened your expression.

“What happened to them, my Lady?” You asked. You heard her mumble something, but you couldn’t figure out what she said, it must’ve been in Romanian.

“Este o poveste lungă și nu una pe care sunt dispusă să o împărtășesc acum.” Lady Dimitrescu grumbled. “I’ll tell you another time, my dear. You can open your eyes now.” And you did. “Lipstick?” She asked. You nodded your hesitantly. She picked up her signature colour and applied it to your lips. “Open. Close. Done.” Lady Dimitrescu said once she finished blotting your lips. “So what do you think, iubirea mea?”

You looked in the mirror and gasped softly. You looked absolutely darling, but you still frowned a bit when you saw your acne. “You didn’t cover it.” You said softly. Lady Dimitrescu raised an eyebrow. “My acne, it’s not bad, but I thought you’d cover it. To make me look prettier, so to speak.” You added.

Lady Dimitrescu took your face in her hands. “Miel mic, you’re beautiful just the way you are. And you’re more than just your looks, remember that.” Lady Dimitrescu. “Now, run along, you have a busy day tomorrow.” She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and patted your head. You made sure to grab her laundry as you were getting to leave, but before you closed the door you turned to face her. “Yes, dear?”

“Thank you, my Lady. For doing my makeup.” She gave you a nod and a smile. “Good night, my Lady. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that you shut the door, to allow her time to herself for the rest of the night.

[blueprint-han]

midnight walk — bang chan.

— “I have to go back to the dorms, and so do you.” 

— “in which you and chan walk through a park during midnight to catch up on some much needed alone time, and you’re prominently reminded of how much you love him, and he does too.”

pairing: chan x (gn) reader 

word count: 3 k

genre: fluff, boyfriend au, idolverse au (though not very prominent throughout the fic)

⇥ warnings: none, very self indulgent making out but nothing sexual, just kissing. minimal dialogue, kissing in public even though there’s no people around, also this situation is just for fictional purposes okay, I am not encouraging any acts of pda that takes place here between idols or anyone (quite frankly i have no idea about it’s legality, but as I said, it’s fictional), it’s just for entertainment purposes. Please take it as such. Also this park is huge and Chan and Y/N walk pretty slowly, and they’re from different companies.

type: drabble.

⇥ disclaimer: This fic does not intend to represent the actions of the real Bang Chan in any way, shape of form, nor does it intend to represent JYPE. Events are pure fiction, please take them as such.

note — Something soft because I wanted to write. This idea was brought up in a convo between me and ella and it was originally for han but then I wrote it for chan because i need my comfort kpop boy right now. Also @meiiyue. I hope this is not shit but i have no idea haha. Please, please leave feedback. Not edited, please excuse grammatical errors and typos. I;m sorry is this is trash, I really haven’t written seriously in a while ;-;

The air over here is way too moist.

So much so that you can feel beads of sweat litter the top of your brow the moment it’s been five minutes since you’ve arrived. You suppose you can’t complain when you and Chan made up the plan to meet immediately after a heavy downpour — you loved the smell of rain and he wanted to see you — it was a win-win situation.

But where is he? 

You wipe your forehead with the back of your sleeve, clutching your umbrella tightly in one hand while simultaneously going through your phone with the other. Your surroundings are calm, quiet, peaceful, exactly what you need to delve into your own thoughts and relax from the actual week you’d gone through. You can feel the tension in your shoulders, very very slowly, seep away as a blanket of mental peace is wrapped around your shoulders. As nice as it feels to be alone in this quiet place, all you want right now, is to hold your boyfriend’s hand and revel in nature.

You make a “tsk” noise, brushing the hair stuck to your face before scrolling through your contacts. You’re about to click on the one that says “channieeee <3″ when you feel hands — warm hands, grab at your shoulders from behind, and you shriek at the sudden shock that overcomes you. Owing to it being very quiet in this park, you slam a hand over your mouth, turning around to see the only person you were waiting for this whole time, albeit not this way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You frown, though a small smile does pull at your lips when your eyes meet his warm brown ones.

“I was letting you know of my presence?”

“By sneaking behind me and giving me a heart attack?”

“I was going to give you a back-hug—” Chan points out,  waking around the bench to sit down next to you, not needing to ask at all. “—but then you screamed and I had to revoke it.”

A part of you wishes that had happened — as terrifying as that encounter was, Chan gives  great hugs. One of a kind. It’s almost like every time his hands wrap around your waist or shoulders, every inch of stress, thoughts melt away, leaving you in a calm state of bliss. That’s what Chan’s hugs are — pure bliss and honestly, your escape.

You give yourself a second to analyze his sharp features. Soft eyes, delicate smile, the pale, soft skin on his cheek so inviting. In this place where you and Chan are together, all you want to do is crawl into his arms, let go of the barrier that surrounds you and just be... yourself. You want to cup his cheeks and kiss him, just like you do whenever you meet up in secret.

But there’s more secrecy and hiding involved in an idol’s life.

“Yeah, yeah.” You say, fixing your mask properly over your nose before standing from your place. “You know better than to revoke my hugs, Christopher.”

Chan chuckles in endearment. You only call him Christopher when you’re unsure of your own statement, and it’s evident in the way your words end like you’re questioning him. Chan’s waiting for the “...right?” that should be following soon, but, oh well. He knows himself that denying you isn’t something his heart would allow, especially not when you look at him like that. 

Eyes gleaming under the dim lights of the park at midnight, a soft, almost unseen smile that only he’s allowed to see adorning your lips, and soft, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. You didn’t even have to tell him you missed him, or that you wished to be in his arms again, because the connection between the both of you was on a whole other level — he could read all your emotions, just from looking into your eyes.

“Can’t deny that, can I?” He says, getting up from his seat before smoothing his shirt, while you put your phone into your pouch and fix your coat. Then, his hands silently seek your own, lacing his fingers with your own as warmth spreads through your chest. His hand feels soft, even more so than the last time you met him. In a silent want to hold him close to you, you tighten your grip as you smile at him and he reflects it back.

You walk around the path slowly, each step lingering against the mossy ground for a good second before moving on to the other. It’s so, so calming. The cold, moist winds refreshingly cool against your skin now that you’re not sitting idle in one place, the darkness in the park oddly calming. There’s the slight chirping of insects that resounds through the space like gentle music, and eventually, you feel yourself relax as you take in your surroundings.

“So, how was your week?” You ask, feeling yourself blush when you silently lean your head against your shoulder whilst walking, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he snakes an arm around your waist, sending shivers up your spine when he gently smooths the fabric of your coat with his thumb.

“Stressful, honestly.” The both of you turn around the corner without second thought. You’ve done this so many times, it’s like your bodies are being pulled to the place you wish so hard to be in right now. You missed him. You missed him so, so much. You can see the stress lines on his forehead and the darkness around his eyes, almost sure that he isn’t getting enough sleep either. After a long pause where you take in his words, he murmurs silently. “Missed you during the shoot.”

“Awh darling,” You coo, pressing a soft kiss onto his shoulder, and even though he doesn’t feel it through his own coat, Chan can feel himself smile affectionately. Every tiny gesture you provide is just so... attracting. Comforting. Be it lacing your fingers through his hair and stroking gently to lull him into sleep or just a hand against his thigh, a soft whisper of an “I’m here” when his stress gets the best of him and he’s clinging desperately onto your shirt, fluttering of your lips all over his face the occasional time you wake up together, or just this — walking through a park at midnight because it’s hard to meet up when you’re both popular idols, hand in hand with almost no words spoken. Everything about you is just so... beautiful. “Did you eat and drink well this week?”

“I did. You wouldn’t stop texting me every day, remember?” Chan laughs, the kind that makes your heart flutter and do backflips.

“It’s very necessary. We both know you're total ass at taking breaks.”

“Hey!” Chan pouts, almost offended at your statement. “I’m trying, okay?” He then smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the fruity scent of your shampoo. “Besides, I have an amazing girlfriend to remind me, am I right?”

“Yeah yeah.” You brush him off, feeling the light grow darker in a particular section of the path, and that’s when you know you’ve reached the place you’ve been walking towards. There’s a bench placed in this place too — it’s the perfect spot for hidden conversations and maybe, kisses, because the chicken wire is completely hidden by trees, making this spot invisible from the outside.

“There it is.” You point out and Chan follows in pursuit, dusting the seat off for you slightly. Once you’ve sat down, you feel your cheeks burn, because the events that take place once the both of you find this spot has been engrained in your mind at this point. They’re the kind that get you flustered every time you see Chan in the JYP building the next day.

The chirping of insects is so much more intense here, yet you don’t even hear it when Chan puts an arm on your shoulder, gently sweeping his thumb against the material of your overcoat, a soft smile taking over his lips as your eyes lock. 

A gush of wind then sweeps past you, the chill in the air higher over here than near the entrance. You lean into Chan and he gets the idea immediately, pulling his coat over the both of you as you snuggle into his shoulder. He’s warm, so warm, so cozy, all you want to do is melt into his embrace and stay. Stay locked in this position you’ve grown accustomed to and found yourself in many times, with the gentle murmur of wind and chirping resounding all around you, almost like you’re trapped in utopia. You want to stay right here, but unfortunately, time runs fast.

“It’s cold.” He comments, and you let the words settle into the air.

“You’re warm.”

At that, Chan feels his smile widen genuinely, his grip on your shoulders tightening just the slightest before he trails up to tangle his fingers with your hair. You feel yourself tense before melting further, lifting your head up to look into his eyes, and my gosh, you can see the whole galaxy in them. His eyes are more sparkly, more lustrous than the clear night sky that lies above him, though the combined visual is truly enough to take your breath away.

“Always for you.”

One second, you feel his hand gently hold your chin and tip your head up, and the next, he leans to press his lips to your own. A mixture of warmth, fuzziness and nervousness bubbles inside you, mostly because you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re in the park — pitch black with dim lighting, yes, but still a public space.

Well, blame it on you for telling your partner you wanted thrill in your life when you were on your first date. It wasn’t a regular occurrence when you and Chan had the idea of meeting up at the park every Saturday midnight, kissing each other at midnight in a park where the trees were barely covering the partitions. Quite frankly, you have no idea when this whole thing started, all you know is that it became quite a frequent occurrence to go home with your cheeks feeling warm and your thumbs fidding with the collar of your shirt.

Your hands stay frozen on your lap and your brain fills with white noise. His lips feel so, so soft against your own as you basically melt against him. You can feel your knees go weak even though you’re sitting down, and Chan’s hands immediately grip your arms as though to cage you from your surroundings. Being in his arms seems like a whole other world to you. They surround you like that warm whiff of air when you get back home after a cold day at work, lock you against his body and protect you against any negativity that may threaten to look your way. Being in his arms, you feel like you’re in a cage you never want to get out from. A cage in which you are complete, you are content, you are loved.

And so, you gently press your palm to his cheek, running his thumb against the high end of his cheekbone, humming when you feel the soft skin underneath. His lips linger against your own for two seconds before he pulls away, feeling your delicate touch against his cheek. Then, he slowly turns to brush his lips against your palm, leaving a soft kiss there, and my god, you feel like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. It’s too much for you to handle, his gestures are too sweet, to loving for you to not turn into a flustered mess.

He leans in once again, and this time, you cup his cheeks, pulling him closer until your lips meet and move in a synchrony of pure bliss. The hum he lets out is your favorite kind of music, it always build up the want for you to hear more. It’s just a pure expression of love that the both of you share, erasing every memory of anything else except each other. You love him, he loves you. That is all, and that is enough.

You never really knew that the man who wore his heart on his sleeve would end up meaning so much to you, but now that he’s yours, you never want to let him go.

It seems very practiced, owing to the countless times you’ve done this before, yet making your heart flutter all the same when the words “I love you” leave his lips in a hushed whisper. Only you’re allowed to hear those words, that tone, that beaming smile that pulls at his lips when his eyes meet your own even in this darkness. Even in this darkness, he thinks you look absolutely stunning, and all he wants to do is tell you how much he loves you over and over again. Well, that’s love. And love is an amazing thing to experience, you can say for sure.

You let yourself smile into the kiss before leaving a quick peck and pulling away, feeling him do the same before opening his eyes and gazing at your features. You shyly look to the side, noticing the leaves that sway gently where the gentle wind hits them. 

Even though the atmosphere is cold, you feel fuzzy and warm when Chan giggles, sparing a quick look to his watch before intertwining your fingers with his.

“Come on, we have some time before leaving, we can play on the swings.”

Oh, he knows the child in you too well.

When you’re done swinging the swings and collecting some flowers that seem fresh, you circle the route of of the park and back to the entrance, it’s already one in the morning. Most — especially your group members — would argue that the both of you should’ve been sleeping by now, owing to your hectic schedule that leaves you weary by the end of the day. But you tell them sometimes, just to get that one hour to spend with your lover, you’re willing to make the sacrifice — and seeing the loving, misty glint in your eyes, they understand.

“So, I guess... I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chan says, and you kick the air gently before pulling your mask over your face. Seeing you, he does the same.

“Yeah, you’ll be in your studio, right? I can drop by.” 

“Yeah. So, um...” You and Chan can never seem to ever part ways once your quality time with each other comes to a halt, the both of you want to reach out and embrace, and never leave. You often wonder what lead to your silent life being plagued with the essence of love, but then you see Chan, and you smile when you realise the answer.

And so, as if trying to hold onto the moment, freeze time a bit, you turn to him and pull him into a hug. He immediately responds and wraps his arms around your shoulders, resting his head on your neck as you sway from side to side. The road is quiet with the occasional vehicle speeding past, but you pay no attention to it. All you feel is Chan’s welcoming arms, his familiar smell that clouds your senses and makes you feel relaxed than ever.

“I love you, so much.” You murmur, not even sure if he’s able to hear it, but he does. He always does.

“I love you too.”

At that, you try to pull away to look into his eyes one last time, but Chan doesn’t let you, pulling his arms tighter across you and holding you close.

You laugh. “Chan.”

“Yes?” He drags the word and smirks mischievously.

“I have to go back to the dorms, and so do you.” You remind. “It’s late.”

“Mmh, alright.” He says, straightening himself from the embrace but not quite letting go yet. “But give me one more kiss before you go.”

You raise an eyebrow before looking around. While the interior of the park does have trees and stuff to cover the walls, the entrance doesn’t, and that sparks some nervousness within you, though you aren’t exactly worried. You’ve gotten away with stuff like this before, when either of you gets clingy and wants that one last lingering moment before you go your separate ways.

You lean in slowly and he just stands there, waiting for you to kiss him with that smile that he just can’t contain when he looks at you. When you pull both your masks down and your lips meet, it’s only for one tiny peck. You then quickly pull away and pull your mask over your face again, and Chan, though giggling furiously at the way he can see you’ve gone a little warm at the action, does the same.

You then bid goodbye and walk your way back home, the warmth that lingers all over skin so, so soothing to your mind. It’s like someone took away all your worries, leaving you in a bubble of contentment. It’s almost surprising how in the grand scheme of things, one person could stumble into your way and completely take your breath away, all because of the word we call love. You’ve realised how love means so much to you after Chan entered your life, and you don’t seem to be changing that idea any time soon.

When you’re almost close to home, your phone dings with a message, with the sender id “channieeee <3″. Instantly, you click on the message.

channieeee <3: so channieeee <3: same time tomorrow?  channieeee <3: pls 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 pls pls pls pls-

A dizzy, pure smile captures your expression, and so, not wanting to delay your plans to meet your lover again, you reply.

y/n: same time tomorrow, then 🥺💞 love you <3

*:･ﾟ✧ find the other fics here !

[jenniferxprentiss]

I technically didn’t make it in time for pride month, but I wrote a soft jemily Drabble that I thought would have been the most perfect thing to add to a collection of pride oneshots, if I ever wrote them 

Excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors, I had the idea jump into my head around midnight and had to get this out. Idk if this deserves to be forever preserved on AO3, so I’m just leaving it here for now.

anyways, let me know what you think! 

The sound of a sharp gasp cut through the room, thunder booming overhead. JJ sat up in bed, her heart racing as her hands gripped at the sheets and she tried to remember where she was. Her mind was reeling from the surreal nightmare she had just woken from, and the bedding felt unfamiliar under her fingertips.

A hotel room, in a city just outside of Los Angeles.

She pressed the back of her hand to her clammy forehead, pushing up from the bed and staggering sleepily to the window. The curtains were drawn already - none of the agents ever slept in complete darkness - and the lightning was lighting up the sky.

Something about storms always screwed with her dreams, turning the most calming thoughts to terrors in an instant.

Turning, she focused her bleary eyes on the agent in the bed across the room - watched the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, proof that she was still alive and unharmed. She leaned against the table, pushed against the large window and scattered with discarded pages from case files they were poring over earlier in the evening.

JJ heard Emily’s breath catch, watched her fist come up to rub at her face before she opened her eyes and pouted at her.

“Jayje? You okay?”

She nodded a little too vigorously, messy bun bobbing with her jerky movements. It was hard to lie to her teammates, the most skilled profilers the BAU had to offer, but Emily always was the first to see through each and every one of her white lies.

“Yeah, just looking at the files again.”

“Liar.” Emily smirked, sitting up in bed. “Storm’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

JJ nodded again while attempting to straighten the piles of paper spread across the table.

“Why don’t you come lay down?” Emily patted the open spot beside her and held the blankets up, offering the other agent a gentle smile.

This was usually the outcome of them sharing a room while on a case - one of them would wake up with a night terror and they’d eventually wind up sharing a too-small double bed. They tried to tell Garcia they didn’t mind sharing a bed, but protocol dictated two double beds in each room.

JJ felt her heart flutter when she climbed into Emily’s bed, nestling her head in the comfortable place in her neck between her head and shoulder. She sighed happily, arms winding around Emily’s torso.

“Better now?” Emily murmured, dropping a soft kiss to the top of JJ’s head. She brought a hand up to run through messy blonde hair, pulling it free from the bun it had been in since much earlier in the day. “You don’t have to sleep over there, you know? We kind of live together.”

“Formalities.” JJ smiled to herself, lips ghosting over Emily’s neck. “Hey, Em?”

“Yes, darling?”

JJ tightened her arms around Emily’s middle, swallowing past the lump in her throat when she felt soft hands playing with her hair. Tears stung at her eyes, tears of sadness and a touch of shame.

“Don’t leave me. You can break up with me but just… don’t leave me, okay? Don’t die. I need you.” She let out a low whine, burying her face further into her girlfriend’s neck.

“What has you thinking I’m going to leave you? I would be too bored without you.” Emily stroked at JJ’s wild hair, smiling fondly. “Was it the dream?” She murmured an understanding when she felt JJ nod against her neck.

There was a pause, both women silent for just a moment, before Emily cupped JJ’s cheeks and brought her face up, noses brushing against each other. She pressed a soft kiss to her lips, brushed back a lock of blonde hair.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay right here, right where you need me, and everything is going to be okay, alright? Because I love you - all of you - even the part of you that needs reassurance, the part of you that you hate.”

JJ felt her throat tighten again at the sheer love and protectiveness in Emily’s voice, the way she could reassure her and know what was wrong without her having said anything. She laid back on the bed, head resting on Emily’s chest, their hands entwined.

“I’m sorry I woke you up. It was just a dream…”

“You don’t have to apologize. Come here, come on.” Emily murmured, arms tightening around JJ’s torso.

They sat in comfortable silence, Emily’s arms wrapped protectively around JJ’s ribs, feeling the rise and fall with each breath she took. Her breathing eventually evened out, little puffs of hot air blown onto Emily’s collarbone.

Emily tilted her head back, eyes drifting to the window where the sun was rising, light threatening to spill over the spaces between the slats of the hotel blinds, curtains askew from when JJ ruffled them earlier. Her hand came to rest protectively on her girlfriend’s back, the ends of her blonde hair tickling her fingers. She felt a smile creep up on her face, gazing down at JJ sprawled across her chest and realized, in that moment in a hotel room in Los Angeles, that she wanted nothing more than to marry Jennifer Jareau and live forever in awe of her beautiful, soft soul.

[dreamcatcherfication]

We’re Lost and Delirious and Can’t Be Found - Part 1

I’m genuinely concerned @katherinehxward hacked into my google drive and read my murder mystery au before requesting this, haha. But I still loved the prompt, and I’m happy to write this! I’m dividing this request into two parts because the plot I wrote doesn’t really fit in one long fic.

Hello (almost forgot that part)! This fic was requested by @katherinehxward who had a very specific request you can read here. I’m happy to deliver, and thus this fic was born! I don’t have much more to say other than I hope you enjoy! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I’m a sleep deprived cracker.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of murder, panic attacks, suffocation

Of all the queens to make bad decisions, Anne was notorious for doing so. Usually it was Kat she dragged into her shenanigans, but this time it was Cathy who she had roped into her adventures. It was innocent enough, so Cathy didn’t question Anne’s sudden interest in checking out their neighbor’s garage sale. There wasn’t even anything interesting, besides the occasional old plate with a strange stain on the side.

Despite Cathy’s disinterest, Anne kept picking up and inspecting new items. For someone who tended to be so reckless, Anne was being extremely delicate with the antiques of the garage. “Cathy! Look at this,” she called, waving Cathy over to one of the corners. Anne was staring directly at an old answering machine, one so old that even the queen herself had trouble figuring out how it would work.

Unimpressed, Cathy raised an eyebrow. “It’s an answering machine.”

Anne still had an excited grin on her face. “Exactly!”

“So…?” Cathy trailed off, unsure of Anne’s intentions.

Picking up the dusty machine, Anne presented it like a prize. “Do you know how cool it would be to have one of these?” She spoke in an old, mocking voice, “Ah yes, and we Tudors love all things old fashioned, here is our most modern technology,” she gestured to the machine and broke out into giggles. “Come on, it’ll be funny!” she pleaded with Cathy.

Rolling her eyes, Cathy couldn’t help but agree. “It’s an incedibly stupid joke -”

“It’s still funny though.”

Cathy relented and pulled out her wallet. “This is the only thing we’re buying. We’re not covering the entire house with antiques.”

Eagerly, Anne nodded. “You got yourself a deal.”

With that, Cathy went to the woman in charge of the sale and started pulling out her money. “How much is it for the answering machine?” she asked, pointing to the device in Anne’s hands.

The elderly woman’s eyes went dark as she stared at the machine. “No one ever wants to buy that. It’s been collecting dust for too many years. If you’ll take it off my hands, you can have it for free.”

“Done!” Anne agreed before Cathy could contemplate the strange actions of the old woman. Already dragging Cathy out of the garage and back to their house, Anne was jumping on the balls of her feet. “We got this thing for free Cathy! That’s one helluva deal.”

A nagging tugged at Cathy’s stomach, making her feel sick, but she ignored it. There was nothing to be worried about, so she didn’t waste her energy trying to figure it out. “Yeah. We should go through it later, see if there are any old messages.”

“Ooh, spooky. Maybe we’ll hear the secret love confessions of the old owner,” Anne theorized.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

It was sometime around midnight when Anne crept into Cathy’s room, the answering machine securely in her hands. She had been waiting all day to go through the messages with Cathy, and it was finally dark enough to set the proper mood. She knocked on Cathy’s door, the only one with light still peeking out beneath it, and presented the machine when Cathy opened the door. “It’s time,” Anne smirked, pushing her way into the room, setting the answering machine down on Cathy’s desk.

Sighing, Cathy closed her door behind Anne and walked over to the answering machine. “You don’t even know if it will work.”

“Of course it’ll work,” Anne gasped. “It may be old, but it’s not broken.” On that cue, the handle of the machine broke off and clattered to the floor. “That doesn’t count,” Anne defended her statement, glancing at the broken piece on the floor.

Cathy ignored the blunder and sat down at her desk, playing with the machine. She had checked the Internet earlier on how to replay some of the old messages, so it didn’t take long for voices to start playing. Anne leaned in next to Cathy as she waited for something interesting to be said. The voice on the line was a husky male voice who slurred his syllables together more often than he had a consistent accent. “Martha, I told you to stop calling me when the kids aren’t at school. They like picking up the phone, and sooner or later I’m going to have to explain to them why you can’t come over anymore.”

Anne and Cathy shared a look before playing the next message. “Goddammit Martha, you’ve got to stop calling. I get that you’re lonely and all that, but don’t bother me anymore.”

“This is the last straw, I’m telling you Martha.”

“Rich.” This time the man’s voice was stronger. He was confident in his words, each sound carefully practiced. “I buried the body. Now you have to come through on your end of the bargain.” And then the machine clicked off, all messages done playing.

Unable to take their eyes off the machine, Anne and Cathy were both stuck in varying degrees of horror. Anne didn’t expect the answering machine to actually have anything interesting to say, but right in front of them, it had just played something about, “A body,” Cathy murmured, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Did we just listen to someone admitting to burying a body?!”

“I think we did,” Anne replied, shock still in her system. And then she burst out, “We have to call the police or something -”

“Woah woah woah,” Cathy cut her off. “First off, we don’t know who died. We don’t even know who sent the message. We don’t know where the body is buried, and we don’t know how old this message is. For all we know, this guy could be dead, or in prison. This machine has to be - what - at least fifty years old? We aren’t going to find anything.”

Standing and throwing her hands up, Anne huffed, “So we aren’t going to do anything?”

“Anne, there’s nothing we can do,” Cathy spoke reluctantly. Her eyes were trained on the ground, burning a hole into her carpet. 

Marching to Cathy’s door, Anne pulled it open and spit, “Well this was a waste of time.” She slammed the door behind her, going back to her own room.

Cathy knew Anne wasn’t actually mad at her, but it still stung to have her friend yelling at her. There was so much Cathy wished she could do. She wanted to find the murderer, figure out who died and where they were buried. But the fact of the matter was all they had was a vague message from an antique answering machine. Who knew if it was even real?

“Hello?” Anne broke the silence around her. Slowly spinning in circles, she glanced up and down trying to find anyone else. “Is anyone there?” she called again. The only thing surrounding her was infinite blackness, the crushing weight of nothing holding her in place. She couldn’t move, could hardly breathe and couldn’t see. Everything was black.

It was stifling, the way the black suffocated her throat after each breath Anne took. She inhaled and only choked more on the inkinesss around her. “Anyone,” Anne begged, when the darkness started to press on her chest. She wasn’t having a panic attack - she knew what those felt like - but it was an eerily similar feeling. The tightness of her chest, the inability to breathe, the fading of the world.

“What’s going on?” Anne kept asking for answers she wouldn’t receive. “Please, let me go!” The blackness only got tighter and tighter. A tear slid down Anne’s cheek as she blinked rapidly, trying desperately to keep it from falling. 

Momentarily broken from the bonds holding her in place, Anne lifted her hand to her face. A sob came from deep in her chest when she couldn’t even see her hand through the darkness. All the light was gone. Anne couldn’t even see her body to prove that she was still there. A deep, existential pit took root in Anne’s mind. If she couldn’t see her body, was she really here? Or was she just another part of the endless blackness. Was this death? Anne couldn’t remember her first death, but if she couldn’t manage this for the short time she had been here, (how long had she been in the dark?) how had she made it through five hundred years?

A frantic shaking started to jerk Anne around, pulling her back and forth. She screamed in pain as she was forcefully ripped from the black and back into reality.

“Anne!” Cathy shook the beheaded queen, trying to get her to wake up. She needed to talk to her, but Anne was stuck in sleep. She kept shaking and calling for her friend before Anne practically flew out of her bed, tackling Cathy to the floor.

When her eyes dilated back to normal, Anne scrambled away from Cathy. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, rubbing her head. “I just…” her voice trailed off, unable to explain what had happened.

“Did you have the same dream I did?” Cathy asked, her voice trembling.

In a split second, Anne’s head snapped towards Cathy. “You had it too?”

“With the…”

“Blackness?” Anne finished for her.

Nodding, Cathy looked down at her hands. “Yeah, that one.”

The two sat in silence for a moment as their breathing evened out. “I think I know why this happened,” Anne piped up, her voice small and fragile.

“Why?”

“We both dismissed that answering machine, and whatever that guy meant by ‘burying the body’. Maybe it’s guilt trying to tell us we can’t let this go.” The more she spoke, the more convinced Anne became of her theory. “We have to try and find that body.”

Cathy was not convinced in the least. “No, Anne, we shouldn’t. It was a weird dream we both shared, but that doesn’t mean we should go looking for a body. Not to mention we have no idea where to look.”

Anne stood up robotically and made her way to her door, wide open from Cathy’s entrance earlier. “The answering machine will lead us there. Trust me.”

Fumbling her words, Cathy groaned and followed Anne. “How is an answering machine supposed to lead you to a dead body? Anne, this is crazy.”

Ignoring Cathy, Anne moved through the halls until she was in Cathy’s room where the answering machine was still perched on her desk. “It might be crazy,” she shrugged, “But you’re the one who keeps me from doing anything too stupid. So are you going to let me do this alone or what?”

Grunting in frustration, Cathy shook her head. “Of course I’m not going to let you do this alone. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Let’s try not to get too deep into an old murder plot, okay?’’

Winking, Anne picked up the machine. “Can’t promise anything.”

It was cold out, the winter frost biting at Cathy’s exposed nose. She had been smart enough to bring coats and scarves, knowing that Anne would forgo those in her need to find a body. “‘Do you have any idea where you’re going?” she asked when Anne made yet another sharp turn across the street. The two of them had also neglected to use a car for fear that the rumbling of the engine would wake one of the other queens.

“Nope,” Anne replied confidently, “but the answering machine does.”

Sighing heavily, Cathy simply gave up. “Okay, fine. I trust the magical answering machine.”

“You have to really trust it for this to work,” Anne urged, grabbing Cathy’s hand. She put it on the answering machine and watched her hopefully. Despite the cold surrounding them, the answering machine was warm, it’s circuitry practically humming with life beneath Cathy’s fingertips. The warmth ran through her fingers and up her body, leaving behind a pleasant tingling sensation.

Shrugging, Cathy whispered, “It does feel kinda nice.”

“If you trust it, then we’ll find what we’re looking for.”

All the skepticism in Cathy’s brain turned off as she nodded. “I trust the machine. It’ll lead us to what we’re looking for.” She and Anne shared a grin and followed the answering machine further from the queens’ house.

The lights around them slowly faded as they came across a wooden gate with the words DO NOT ENTER! carved into the side. Bypassing the warning, Cathy and Anne hopped the fence and made their way onto the grounds. There was a menacing house at the end of a cobblestone walkway, but they didn’t walk towards it. Instead, the answering machine told them to go around the house to the under kept backyard.

When they made it to the backyard, Cathy and Anne froze. The answering machine fell from Anne’s hands onto the ground with a soft thunk as the two girls were brought back to reality. “Is that...?”

“I think it is,” Cathy responded, her breaths coming out as shivers.

Because right there in front of them was a body-sized mound of dirt with two shovels laying on top. 

------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree@boleynhowards@annabanana2401@babeebobo@dont-lose-your-queerhead@everything-insanity@mindless-pidgeon@i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six@thedemidisaster@its-totes-gods-will

[badlydrawndrawnings]

P5 Palace Owner Swap AU

(Aka: The AU Where All the Palace Owners Sins are Swap Around)

Under normal circumstances, I don’t put fan fiction on this blog. However, as the Palace Owner Swap AU is something I talked about before on this blog, I decided to post what is apparently something I wrote for the AU I faintly recall writing way early on this year. I copy-pasted everything from the word doc, so I please beg you to try brushing off grammatical errors and others. I am not in the mood to edit anything right now.

Kunikazu was at the counter, watching his father wipe away a few of the dirty cups. The man was leaning his head onto his head, and sigh. He had just learned about father’s kind act of the day.  As much as kindness was dad’s greatest strength, it was also his greatest weakness. Business was in the red as it is. Oh, how Kunikazu longed to take over Okumura Foods.

That way, he can find something salvageable. If he’s lucky, if he can pay off the loans, Kunikazu can rebuild it from the ground up. He can change it to where it’s almost unrecognizable, a chain that Japan and the world would see. Maybe, just maybe-

“Son, you’ve been awfully quiet. Is something on your mind?”

Kunikazu was quickly brought back to Earth. He straightened up in his seat. “It is that obvious?”

“Quite.” His father chuckled. “Are you thinking about Nagisa and her oversea trip to France?”

“What?” Kunikazu blinked fast behind his glasses, wondering what his dad was talking about. After a few seconds, Kunikazu remembered. “Oh yes. I’m quite proud of her decision. She dreamed of going to Paris since we started university.”

“Still, you two didn’t need to break things off. Long distance relationships can work.”

“But not always.” Kunikazu got out of his seat, and pushed his chair in. “Father, believe me when I say the breakup was necessary. It was mutual on both sides, and no feelings were hurt.”

“If you say so. I honestly thought you two would tie the knot! You two were so happy together.”

“I know Father,” said Kunikazu nonchalantly, “I know.”

~~~

Kunikazu hated these meetings. Not only does he have to do them in secret, they were a waste of his time, and almost a waste of his money. The meetings began after Nagisa’s one year in Paris was cut short to just four months. She claimed she was sick for Japan, how she utterly missed her friends and family.

Well, she wasn’t wrong about the sickness. Morning sickness was never a pretty sight. Kunikazu was unfortunate to be there a few times, pulling back her hair from the toilet and vomit. It was probably few things he did to help Nagisa during the entire pregnancy.

It was those early days when the meetings began. They changed quite a lot from their original concept. Originally one month, it then became two. A few years back, they changed three months after father screwed up a loan big time. Nagisa didn’t mind the change; she understood his family’s situation. She was there with Kunikazu during those painful months.

But she didn’t understand enough to put an end to these meetings. Knocking onto the apartment’s door, Kunikazu didn’t care if he woke the child up. It was midnight for goodness sake! He should be getting a good night’s rest, preparing himself for the real meetings with investors.

Okumura Foods went under this year, forcing father to close the café. While the few local patrons gave their support, in the end, it wasn’t enough. There was too much lost profit, and to make things worse, father died not long afterwards. Father’s death forced Kunikazu’s time to shine as president. Observing the mistakes of his father help Kunikazu avoid the do and don’ts.

There were no more smiles, no more generous moments. You either pay or you don’t. You work hard for hours to earn your wages, or not take the job at all.

The man barely got to the third knock when Nagisa opened the door. Brushing back her bangs, wrapping herself in the blanket she was wearing, the woman gave him a frown. “Kunikazu-kun, what did I say about knocking? You could have woken up the neighbors.”

Oh. He had forgotten about that part. That’s part of the reason they were secret meetings. Kunikazu pushed up his glasses. “Even though I don’t sound like it, I apologize for the noise. But if I didn’t wake up your kid, we should be fine.”

“She’s our child.”

“She may have Okumura blood, but that doesn’t mean she’s my child. We were never married, and for all intent and purpose, I can’t claim her as an Okumura.”

“Continue on being that way. One day I know it will change. Anyway, do you have the check?”

Kunikazu pulled out an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket. “As promise.”

“Thank you.”

Nagisa snatched the check from Kunikazu’s hand, and ripped it open it to check if it’s the proper amount. The woman nodded her head in gratitude. Kunikazu gave back a nod himself, before turning his back away from the door. Just like that, another meeting ended. He took a few steps, before remembering something else of great importance.

“I should let you know, starting this month, you and the girl will be receiving a check every six months instead of three. I don’t want you to rely so heavily on me. I have a life, you know.”

“Thank you for telling me. I have a life as well. I doubt you care, but I got a promotion at the flower shop. It doesn’t pay much, but with what I make now and what you give as support, me and Haru-chan will manage. Hopefully, it will be enough for school as well.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Nagisa.”

Kunikazu made sure to continue walking before Nagisa closed the door completely.

---

Haru had just come home from school. Mother was at work at the flower shop, but she left Haru a note on the fridge. Mother prepared something in the fridge. Opening it up, Haru saw four plastic wrapped sandwiches, with the bread crust all cut off. Haru smiled as she pulled them out, and grabbed a plate from the cabinet.

Haru had just sat down at the table when someone knocked at the door. She decided to do nothing. Mother said not to open the door while she’s away. But the person kept on knocking. Loudly, in fact. It’s rather annoying.

Haru got out of her seat and grabbed the chair. She wasn’t tall enough to see through the peephole yet. From what she saw, there was a very well dress man in a suit and ascot. He was playing with his glasses, and looked a bit angry. Maybe he was supposed to meet Mother?

Well, thought Haru, if Mother doesn’t know, it won’t hurt her.

Haru placed the chair back to the kitchen, and unlocked door. The man looked surprised to see her, almost falling over. He must have thought Haru didn’t see him panic, as he quickly buttoned up his jacket, trying to keep calm.

“Hello,” greeted Haru. “Who are you?”

“I’m…,” and here the man paused, trying to figure out what to say. “I’m a friend of your mother. I was supposed to speak to her yesterday.”

“What’s your name?” asked Haru, suspicious of the man. “I know all of my mothers’ friends. And I don’t know you, sir. Mother also said I shouldn’t talk to stranger. But here I am.”

“How bold of you to assume you know everyone in your mother’s life, young child,” answered the man. “And your mother is very smart to give you such advice. You may call me Okumura.”

“Hello then, Okumura-san. I’m Haru.” Knowing his name made Haru felt a bit more comfortable around him. “Mother is out working. If you want, you can wait for her with me while I eat my lunch. Do you want one. Mother made four sandwiches. I can be fine with three.”

The man didn’t say anything to her at first. He stared at her as if she did something wrong. Haru was certain she didn’t do anything wrong. The man then gave out a scoff, and a smiled.

“I’m sorry, Haru-chan. I unfortunately I don’t have too much time on my hand,” answered the man, pulling out an envelope from the inside of his jacket. “Thank you for the offer though. Please tell your mother that Okumura-san visited, and that he gave her this.”

Haru took the paper with her hands, and gave the man a nod. “Okay then. I promise to give it to her. Have a good day, Okumura-san.”

“Have a good day too, Haru-chan. You’ll certainly need it.”

As Haru closed the door, she saw Okumura-san walk quickly as he can, without looking back.

~~~

Haru felt like an idiot for not realizing sooner. Then again, she was only seven. What did seven years old know? Besides, Mother didn’t tell her anything about her father. The only thing Mother would admit on her deathbed was that he was busy working to support the family. Such importance work to where he can’t spend time with them.

And it was true, up until that fateful day. Mother told her a day after Haru met Okumura-san; Father had decided to cut off his finical support for them. Father feared Haru would have blurted out to the world of her mother’s friendship to Kunikazu Okumura, president of Okumura Foods.

At the time, Haru could never understand why Father would fear this. But now she knows. Father people would connect the dots. Father feared that the world would learn of Okumura’s bastard daughter with his university girlfriend. It would have been a disaster, given he was happily married. To make matter worse, after Mother died, and after Haru moved in with Takakura-san, Okumura and his wife, Reiko, announced to the world of their baby boy.

A baby boy who is also named Haru.

The fourteen-year-old girl wondered if Father deliberately waited until Mother’s death to start his own family. Haru wondered if Father picked that name to spite her and mother, wanting to show her that he can and did moved on his with life, not giving a damn about them.

Haru lay down on her soft bed, and sigh. As much as she’s grateful for her life, glad that Takakura- san decided to take her in, Haru only wished Father could just accept and recognize the fact she was his blood, that she was an Okumura. Sadly, that will never happen.

~~~

Haru is now fifteen years old, turning sixteen in December. It may be August, but it seems her birthday had just come early. Smiling at her phone, after clicking on a suspicious phone she never seen in her life, something…unreal happened.

One minute she was standing with her schoolbag over her shoulder, waiting for her train to arrive. The next second, Haru is standing in what is a twisted version of the subway, all black and red.

As she stared in awe of the gigantic, grandiose dress ‘woman’, Haru felt grateful for whatever god or demon that blessed her with the app, it will allow her the greatest wish to come true.

[egg2k16]

40 Fanfic Q’s Answered

the server wants answers, and they want them now!!! from this post

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Smut and pining all the way. Also, falling in love via laughing

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Eh...I don’t think so, I’m always 100% self-indulgent, so what u see is what I want

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Anything that has to do w mega sadness, I just Don’t. I can’t write anything sad, and if I do, there’s certainly gonna be A Lot of comfort afterwards

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

I have 91 wips, motherfuckers!!! My latest wip is a daddy month fic!

5. Share one of your strengths.

I think, since I’ve been trying to be sparser in my words, I’ve been able to better emphasize what isn’t being said

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

No action scenes from me are ever good, lmao

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

It was late at night, when he started to cry.

He didn't want to cry, but he did.

It's been years since he's last let himself feel, or was it since he was last allowed to feel?

He choked on his sobs, uncomfortable with his tears. He's forgotten how to properly cry. His entire body is shaking, and the connections between flesh and wire hurts.

He stops crying. He starts crying again.

This continues for another few minutes, until he feels as if he can't possibly have any more tears.

He wipes his face, pulls the covers up to his chin, and falls asleep.

(from Twilight on the Sea) I really like this bcus I don’t think I’ve ever really typed out crying in this way, n I tried to make it feel like it was a lot

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Cass was quiet for a moment. “... you know what? Maybe I’ll just go up there and surprise you.”

“If you do, then you already ruined the surprise, haven’t you?”

“Eh, I dunno about that. Seeing my beautiful face is a shock for many people.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“Hey, Koda? I don’t know about you, but it’s really late here.”

“Really?” Koda asks, then remembers that time zones exist. “Oh crap, what time is it over there?”

“It’s midnight. What about you?”

“It’s eight o’clock. Only four hours difference?”

“Oh hey, that’s not so bad.”

“It reduces our time,” Koda said, a bit whining.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“What are you going to do? Move here? Send for me?”

“You’ll see.”

(from Together) This was a gift for one my best friends on here, @suncatchr​ , and it’s about his ocs!!! I love this a lot bcus while it’s a soulmate au, it’s not ur average soulmate au, and I tried making it as original as possible! And this blurb, I just wanted them to effuse so much love w/o having to say love...cries

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

If this is by posted fics, then I remember writing Look What You’ve Done to Me was very very difficult, bcus, since it’s also a gift, for @daniel-bryan​ , I wanted to write it Good, n since my buddy usually wrote from the love interest’s pov, I felt a weird pressure to write Daniel Bryan’s pov as good as I could

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

2 of my fics in Spanish!!! My oc centric one, Rayos y Centellas, and my shyan one, oye cariño, solo pienso en ti ! Turns out writing in ur native tongue makes everything easier

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

It’s a very passionate hobby!!! I just!!! try to pour all of my love into everything I write!!!

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

I’m not sure!!! I just watch movies n quietly scream to my gay lonesome bcus No One Ever Watches Movies ;-;

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

To just keep writing n not stop for details or forgotten lore, bcus it’s important to write down what’s firing u up Right Now. Of course, it’s very difficult following that ;;-;;

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

“No adverbs!” “No ‘said’!” “It has to make grammatical sense!” sometimes things Need those

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Was gonna say my rewrite of the end of The Rover, but actually, my SPN fic Ube . Shit was peak inspired

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Eridirk (Eridan Ampora/Dirk Strider from Homestuck) all the way. The one otp that’s stayed thru thick n thin <3

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

A little mix of both, and tbh it depends on the fic, but I tend to write chronologically

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I’ve started bullet pointing my ideas out before writing my fics, and so far, it’s been helping me be more streamlined n get my things written out faster n clearer!

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Is the need for representation in all the niche movies I keep watching a muse?

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

In my dark room, w music blasting from my laptop, the TV w a soft hum, I have the perfect playlist to get the mood right, curled up in my blankies, n my plushie Sweet Pea by my side

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Zero, we rely on autocorrect & editing while typing and die like men

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

YOU DON’T SEEM SCARED.

Del Rio shrugs. “Working as a cop, it makes you numb to some things. It’s good, it lets you react to things as you should, and not how you’d want to.”

YOU SOUND SAD ABOUT THAT.

He makes a noncommittal noise. “It is what it is.” He eats another spoonful of his ice cream, then gets a thought.

“Can you show up?”

HOW SO?

“Can you,” he tries, waving his spoon around, “Manifest?”

I DON’T KNOW. I’LL TRY.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Del Rio assures, and he can feel the air around him smile. The...world, he thinks, around him shifts just slightly, and there seems to be a chink in the armor for a moment before it goes away, as if someone had wiped the glass clear. He realizes that this is her, trying to show up in a physical form, step out of the phone.

He doesn’t know where to look, but then his confusion wanes when a butterfly shows up, fluttering towards him. It lands near his phone, skitters a bit, flaps its wings.

“Lucy?” he asks, transfixed on the butterfly. Its orange wings are bright under the sunlight.

I THOUGHT I’D TRY SMALL, FOR MY FIRST TRIAL.

“Well, you certainly nailed it.” He smiled warmly at the butterfly, and he had the crazy notion that it smiled back at him.

(adapted from The Policeman , the first fic I posted!)

23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Yeah, probably The Policeman lmao, I remember it today n I cringe a little at the very obvious refs to other fandoms I made. Despite that, it continues being one of my best hits!

24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Never

25. What do you look for in a beta?

I’m just thankful to have gotten a beta in general in life at all

26. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I beta’ed once, and since English is my 2nd language, I pointed out syntax confusion, typos, n continuity errors

27. How do you feel about collaborations?

Can be done, it’s just that I am frightened. Tried doing that, it fell thru, n the new thing that came up, I still have to hold up my end of the bargain ;;-;;

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

cries omg ok so!!! Chancy_Lurking ( @lurkerviolin​ ) is one of my faves, n we’ve become friends, n their Felix+ Sense8 series is the reason for it all, and u know it’s good if it managed to make a friendship that’s last its good while, and also they’re so nice, and we vibe so well!!! thegoatz ( @daniel-bryan​ ) is also now one of my bestest friends ever, and I wuv him so much, he is such a good kid, n he’s so enthusiastic about writing, and I hope that spark never goes out!!! And adamwhatareyouevendoing ( @skatingthinandice​ ) bcus she’s doing a rewrite of The Last Kingdom where it’s all gay where it should be and vnjkdfsnvkd God, what a wonderful friend!!!

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I actually technically am working on a sequel to @rettaroo​ ‘s A New Kind of Touch ! Another promise I have to hold up eventually ;;;-;;;

30. Do you accept prompts?

Sure!

31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I try to follow canon as much as I possibly can!

32. How do you feel about smut?

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

33. How do you feel about crack?

Eh, it’s alright. I don’t normally look for it, so I don’t really have a solid opinion on it

34. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

I don’t want to read it, but I have so far encountered it twice very amicably: once here in a ficlet, and another in a longer fic on AO3, and they were both very good

35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Probably not, I don’t like sad things!

36. Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3! I’m RedLlamas on it!

37. Talk about your current wips.

Lmao which one. The one I’m currently working on is an impregnation kink turned “oh no I actually do wanna have a family” feelings fic!

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

Gonna be real w u, the best comments I’ve gotten have mainly been from my friends, who either write a paragraph or two going into detail of the fic, or just send a one sentence comment that’s just “screams!” I’ve gotten very few paragraphs from other people, n they’re always so!!!

My friends are the realest :’)

39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

The perks of being a rarepair writer is that the only people who read my fics are the ones actively looking for content!!! And they can’t complain about my work because No One Else Is Writing For It!!!!!!

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

All my fics are masterpieces, so I’ll do a summary change! For don’t you just know (exactly what they’re thinking?)

Dakota finds himself in unexpected heartbreak, and the universe decides to bring him in the direction of a night club with a dancer with stars on his skin.

[soranihimawari]

No risk, No reward...

taglist: @kaidasen

Side note: I couldn’t format my texts in time since I use google docs for everything, so please be patient with the formatting of my long af text posts. I had a lot of fun writing this drabble. Tbh, I wasn’t sure how long I was going to make this story, but just know that I’ll have to queue up some parts. Thanks for reading! ::insert quarantine air five here::

next >>

========================================================

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙: 

13:07 

      to: ಥ⌣ಥmiserablerage_muda ಥ⌣ಥ 

     Frm: ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘blessed_setter keiji┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘

     I got a favor to ask you.

15:49

     to: ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘blessed_setter keiji┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘

     Frm: ಥ⌣ಥ miserablerage_muda ಥ⌣ಥ

Sorry, i was busy with putting away the archery equipment                             earlier,   so i just saw this. >.< i’m the worst senpai. T^T Is this about tutoring Bo-kun, right? 

17:45

     to: ಥ⌣ಥmiserablerage_muda ಥ⌣ಥ

     Frm: ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘blessed_setter keiji┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘

You’re not the worst senpai. We’ve been friends for five y e a r s. We just wrapped up practice too, could you please meet us on campus? Give me a few minutes. Bokuto-san is about to enter his dejected mode again. 

                                                       ***

I glanced down at my phone and sighed. Of course Akasshi would text me this late in the afternoon especially when it comes to taking care of Bo-kun, I shook my head at the negative thoughts that were fogging up my tired brain.

“Doesn’t anyone on the Fukurodani Volleyball Club know that I have my own schedule to keep?” I mumbled to myself. My face was warm and sticky with sweat from archery practice. I was kind of in my own dejected mode too after I received news from the student council the Archery Club was going to be dissolved. I was the only active member now and when I pleaded in  my case for it to be saved, the treasurer scoffed. I wore my midnight blue archery jacket (the logo of the bubo blakistoni’s quill were embroidered on the front and the kanji on the back read: FUKURODANI ARCHER CAPTAIN): 

“There’s no reason to have an Archery Club when it only has one member here,” the secretary said. My hazel eyes darted around the room and it seemed like that vote was unanimous before I even stepped into their approved space.

“Our Volleyball Club has actually put Fukurodani Academy on the map. We’re a powerhouse school because of how strong our team is,” the vice president reminded me; she folded her arms over her chest when she leaned in. I couldn’t state my case since I knew she was right, so instead, I thought of the best solution for the student council.

“V. President-san, may I have one request before you hand the club sponsor the termination form?” I inquired. 

“What is it Muda-senpai?” although she was a second year, she did add the honorific as a sign of respect. I might not like what this meeting was about, but what I do understand is that my club had consistently seen a decline of interest over the last six years at Fukurodani. 

“There is a tournament next month,” I placed my hands in my jacket pocket. “Please let me use the equipment for solo-practice until the day after the tournament.”

The vice-president of the student council drew in a breath and when she exhaled, she nodded in approval. She wrote on the school’s official document and placed her signature stamp on the bottom of the form. 

“The president of student council is absent today due to hay fever, but I will personally let him know of the situation. I’m really sorry about the formalities of this meeting Muda-senpai,” her voice was sincere this time.

“It’s quite alright and thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” my voice sounded polite, but the student council members who knew me from last year saw my lips pressed flatly into a scowl. I bowed and departed for the closest women’s restroom where I locked myself in the first stall and began to let frustrated tears run down my face for a few minutes before I patted my cheeks dry at the sink. I gazed at my reflection (my hair was a bit frazzled due to the rain this morning), yet the thought of clearing out the photos of our team through the years were what really got me down. I worked so hard to be in a club for a sport I am the most passionate about, which required the most patience to learn (and teach in physical education starting in junior high) was being taken away from me in my third year of high school by the volleyball club.  

Akaashi, Bokuto, and I have been friends throughout junior high and as luck would have it after much deliberation and late night jungle gym talks, we decided to take the entrance exams for Fukurodani Academy. I’ll never understand why those two friends of mine chose the volleyball club over the archery club, but over the course of the last three years I was able to witness the rise of one of the top five aces in Japan. 

Maybe it was my own selfishness being the only female student they would listen to, or perhaps it was the fact that I defended their honor from insulting rumours about who they were dating or crushing on in our adolescent years, but we were inseparable. Only until recently, I noticed that other members of their team would approach me when I had a tournament (mostly it was Kaori and Yukie wishing me luck after classes were done for the day). 

The two owls I had befriended in junior high were high caliber players for the volleyball club. I never really paid attention when both of them grew into their features quite nicely; as Akaashi grew taller, Bokuto and I began to have height competitions. There were days in the fall where I’d forget my gloves because both of them would hold my hands like I was gonna lose them in my own neighborhood. I never really understood why Akaashi was always in charge of buying me a birthday gift and Bokuto was in charge of purchasing the card until I heard them planning what to get me earlier this past October:

“Akaashi! Muda already has this charm for her bracelet, right?” Bokuto asked. He seemed a little deflated that day due to the fact that all his ideas were being put in the “maybe we’ll see” list of ideas.

“You know, you could just ask me, right?” I said when I snuck up behind them. Akaashi laughed when Bokuto yelped as he jumped back in surprise. “And yes, I do have that owl charm. You gave it to me last year. You could always buy me more Jun Ito mangas.”

When the school day was over, I immediately walked home to begin my nightly review for the calculus exam planned for Tuesday morning. Mathematics and chemistry were my strongest subjects; modern literature and poetry were my free period classes, but my grades were high enough to secure a passing grade; and finally American English was my weakest subject. I was barely passing it at the start of the second semester, but for some reason, Bokuto was actually proficient in American English. Akaashi was always hovering over my workbook when we would study in the campus library and noticing my grammatical errors. 

One day before fall break, I told Akaashi that I wanted a recording of Bokuto talking in English to one of the reporters when his name gained traction for being one of the Top 5 Aces in Volleyball Monthly. 

“You hear him talk all the time,” Akaashi said. We were having lunch together outside on the covered terrace. He stuck a straw on the top of his milk box while watching me eat my mother’s homemade salmon onigiri.

“Maybe hearing Bo-kun speak English might help me pass this class,” I said in between bites. “I’ll even throw in some maths group study. Our boy is this close to failing trig and then he can’t play volleyball. I’m not babysitting him this time, Keiji.”

“You’re fingers are actually touching this time,” Akaashi said when he noticed my hand gesture. He handed me a juice box when he realized I was trying to laugh. I poked the top of the box with the spear like straw and began to take a few sips.

“I’ll text you after practice,” he said as soon as he stood up. “It might just be Bokuto though since I don’t know what our coach’s strategy is for the upcoming tournaments.”

“Mmkay. I’ll be at home today. I told the archery coach I was going to be doing some solo practice in lieu of the free gym being under reconstruction.”

Akaashi nodded and left back to his classroom.

[iwriteficsandmore]

At long last

I promised it would come. And I finally had the time to finish it. The first chapter to what will eventually be my hawks x oc fic, which I’m tentatively titling “Interview with a Winged Hero”. It might seem long compared to what I usually write here, but that’s my usual length for chapters most of the time. So, here it is. Really sorry about the grammatical errors and everything, especially if it’s disrupting. It’s almost midnight and I needa get up in five hours for school, but wanted to post this before anything else. 

Thing is though that it’s about 26 pages long. Can’t really post that here without making a mess.

So here’s where they’re posted on FF and AO3.

I’d really ‘preciate some input on how it’s looking :) I’m hoping to edit it in the future (if not fully on rewrite it) and get on writing the ch2 when I get time. But enough of that. I’m sure you guys need some convincing to click those, so have a little preview under the cut ♥

|Five years ago—Tokyo|

The blinding blue light of her computer screen reflected at her from the glass of red rimmed glasses, tiring her sight and making Miryoku reach underneath them to rub at her tired eyes.

Fourteen straight hours of researching online about the up and coming 'Winged Hero' and the next eight writing up a rough draft of the article snatched most of her day up without her noticing. She had gotten too into this without meaning to. Much like everything else that caught her attention, it absorbed her and blinded her to her surroundings. Even gramps knew not to bother her when she was like that and had only left her some taiyaki for her to snack on when she waved off going downstairs to properly eat dinner.

But even that small period of starvation proved useless when she had spent the last couple of hours stuck while writing. For as inspired as she had been, it proved harder the further she wrote into it. Each time she reread what she had, it only made it all the clearer how superficial it all sounded. It hadn't bothered her too much at first. It was just some lousy contest that she was writing this for after all. But she couldn't help it. No matter what it was for, this was still something she wrote. It was a piece she put heart and time into. It was something that interested her for once. And because of that, it was easily becoming a work of pride for her. As such, just any half-assed written paper wouldn't do. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it the right way.

That 'right way' though continued to elude her way into the early hours of working.

Now at 3:54 in the morning, her stomach rumbled in blatant criticism of her poor health decisions. She was dying of hunger which only added to her already carved in frustration. And surely gramps had only bought the taiyaki for dinner like he always did when she left him to fend for himself where food was concerned. There wasn't anything in the fridge either since she hadn't gone grocery shopping with how engrossed she'd become working on the dumb article. How is he still alive after living like for all these years? Resigning with a hefty groan, Miryoku leaned back in her chair to stare at the dark ceiling of her room for a minute.

"Guess konbini bento it is."

Jumping out of her chair, Miryoku snatched a spare jacket from the floor along with her wallet and quietly sprinted down the stairs of their home, making extra sure that her grandfather was asleep before shoving her shoes on and walking out the front door. Sprinting halfway there, Miryoku felt her chest burn as the icy, winter air entered her lungs finally making her continue in a brisk walk instead. Donning her jacket and pulling the hood over her hair, she adjusted her glasses that had slipped down her nose and stared up and head through the empty streets of her neighborhood.

So quiet and peaceful. Despite being a short distance from the apex of Tokyo, where her gramps lived was part of the more dilapidated part of town. More seniors lived around these parts than anything and though it had great dining options, they weren't places that meritted going without company. Which is why she thanked her lucky stars that a konbini was within fair walking distance from their house.

Miryoku didn't take long to pick out her bento and a few choice items before heading out with a hefty bag full of snacks in hand. It was while mindlessly walking ahead while struggling to put her wallet away in her back pocket that a chill ran down her spine a moment before a large hand snagged said item from her grasp.

"Hey!"

The thief didn't spare her a glance as he ran off at full speed. It took a moment of grounding herself before Miryoku sprinted after him too with her bag hanging behind her. "Get back here, you bastard!"

But keeping him in sight proved harder than she thought though with how badly in shape she was. Soon, Miryoku noticed him getting further and further away and when she thought she'd definitely lose him, she took a last ditch effort to stop him. Grabbing the bag full of snacks in both hands, Miryoku sprinted with all she had before hauling the bag and everything in it right at the thief's back. True to its aim, the heavy bag struck him and made him lose momentum but didn't make him stop.

No!

But just as she thought he'd surely get away, small flashes of red darted past the corner of her vision, the light from the streetlights making their color all the more vibrant as they caught the thief's clothes and shoved him to the ground with unbelievable strength, effectively pinning him in the street for good measure.

Miryoku stopped in her tracks, breathing heavy and shallow as she adjusted her glasses again to get a better look of what'd happened. Half her groceries were scattered on the floor, and not far from the thief her wallet itself, but what caught her attention most were the large crimson feathers that pierced through the man's clothes and deep into the asphalt street.

"Sorry 'bout that!" The carefree tone that floated above her made her turn skyward just in time to see a blur of red fall a few feet from her. Miryoku covered her face from the rush of air that fell on her and blinked at the large, crimson wings that unfurled before her as the owner turned to face her.

Amber eyes stared back at her and a satisfied smile spread across the face of the man she had spent the whole day learning about.

"Oh, here," Hawks said, sprinted up to her wallet that was the nearest thing to him and passing it on to her. "Gotta say, you're lucky I heard ya when I did otherwise there'd go your money. Nice hit, by the way, though your groceries might've suffered some casualties."

Miryoku blinked in utter disbelief as the man bend over to readily pick up the snacks that had stumbled out of the plastic bag when she threw it. Seeing him do this snapped her out of her stupor but just when she was going to help him pick the rest off the streets, she got caught off guard by the flurry of red feathers that effortlessly went about picking up the rest. In a matter of minutes, Hawks approached her with an open bag as his feather deposited the items they retrieved and passed on the full bag back to her with a grin on his face.

"Here ya go."

Carefully, she took it in her hands, thanking him under her breath and watched him from a few feet away as he dealt with the thief. Curious and without knowing, Miryoku mindlessly followed him back to the konbini where he and the cashier took care of calling the police. She honestly didn't know why she stayed behind and waited with them for the authorities to arrive but when they did and she gave her statement about what happened, Miryoku finally decided to head back home when she found him busy talking to the police. A small part of her had wanted to talk to him if even for a few minutes. Just a few words to help her out of her writer's block. But that was too much too hope for. Even she knew that. And even if the opportunity had risen, Miryoku would've no doubt spoiled it somehow with her more than lacking social skills.

Decidedly leaving the konbini behind, she stared down at her feet as she walked through the empty streets. Her mind reeled with what had just happened despite the quietness that surrounded her. The blur of red that flashed right before her eyes—it reminded her of lightning, but faster. Much, much faster.

Too fast.

"Miss, dontcha think it's unsafe to walk by yourself about what just happened to ya?"

Vibrant red blocked her vision for a moment before amber eyes met with hers. Miryoku yelped out and held a hand to her chest from the heart attack that the winged man gave her by appearing out of the blue in front of her. Mumbling under her breath, she kept looking back and forth from where she'd left the konbini behind and him questioning from where the hell he'd come from.

A bubbly chuckle came out of him as he landed before her, his huge wings tucking themselves behind him as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Leaning on one leg, he tilted his head and grinned, "Sorry 'bout that."

"It's alright," she said. Looking back once more, she stared back at him confused. "Not to be rude but what are you doing here?"

"Oh, right!" The feathers on his wings rustled when he perked up, startling Miryoku a little from the sudden movement. "I came here 'cause I thought you'd want a ride home with the police after what happened."

"I don't need it," she quickly retorted.

"Ya just got mugged though."

"And I'm fine." Miryoku couldn't help being miffed at his insinuation. "I thank you for helping me back there but I'm not that helpless. So thanks, but no thanks about the ride. Besides, my house is pretty close by. I'll be fine getting back by myself."

Hawks' brow furrowed and his nose scrunched up as he frowned. Seemingly at odds with himself, he rubbed the back of his back for a moment before his eyes widened in realization and he smiled that goofy grin back at her again.

"Then let me walk ya back!"

"No thank you."

Not waiting for his answer, Miryoku sidestepped him and walked off on her own. That didn't last for long before she heard the soft flapping of wings following behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she glared back at Hawks who stopped dead in his tracks, hovering a few inches off the floor as he followed behind her with a nervous grin.

"Ya don't have to give me that look."

A small tick grew on her jaw. "I already said no thanks." She gave him her back and kept walking ahead despite still hearing the soft beating of his wings as he flew behind her, "And besides, don't you have a mugger to report?"

"The cops took care of him, so my job's done where that's concerned."

"Then you should head home yourself. It's quite late to be out and about."

"I could say the same about ya, missy."

"Yeah, well…" When she couldn't come up with anything, heat rushed up her neck and to her ears. "I seriously don't need you to accompany me to my house."

"What kind of hero would I be if I didn't escort a lady like yourself?"

"One with too much time on his hands, that's for sure," she mumbled under her breath.

"Ha!" Hawks laughed finally flying beside her, his lower feathers brushing carelessly against her arm. "You couldn't be more wrong, missy."

"You really don't know when to be quiet, do you?"

"It's a gift," he coyly replied.

Miryoku couldn't help but sigh in frustration. Who in their right mind would've thought the youngest hero with an agency of his own, a prodigy of his generation, would be such a handful to deal with?

Thankfully, her house was only a short walk back and Hawks landed just at the foot of the few steps that led up to the front door of her house. Miryoku stepped back and nodded to it as she climbed the last step up, hand already on the doorknob.

"See? Not that far."

He scoffed but that grin never left his face. "It's hard for ya to say 'thanks,' isn't it?"

"No, I do," she rectified, more than peeved about that comment. "I said it before. I also said that walking me back wasn't needed. Quite a waste of your time if you ask me."

"Eh, that's kinda subjective if ya ask me." Hawks shrugged his shoulders before flapping his wings to get a good few feet off the floor. "Well, have a goodnight, missy." He saluted her with a couple of his fingers, "Be careful on your next late night stroll!"

Miryoku was about to retort at the cheeky remark but before she could, that heap of red dashed out of sight leaving nothing but the faint blur of crimson in her vision. She shook her head as she went inside and quietly headed to her room with all her food. Sitting back behind her computer, Miryoku stared at the screen where her article laid open and half written. But despite wanting to focus, she found herself thinking over and over about their small conversation in those few minutes of a stroll.

She leaned forward to cradle her chin in her hands and reread her article, his words replaying in her head as she concocted an image of the young hero.

Brash. Reckless. Chirpy.

Precocious sounds better.

"...the precocious man…"

She twirled the pocky stick in her mouth with her tongue and stopped at the sound of what she'd mindlessly spoken. Letting it sink and liking the sound of that, she bit down on the treat and stretched back before going back to typing furiously at her keyboard.

[potatowithimagination]

Prove it!

Summary: Does your ex-boyfriend still care about you?

Warnings: Angst, couple of swear words, mention of injury

Pairing: Masato (Coldrain) x Reader

Word Count: 1,5k

A/N: English and Japanese are not my first language, so there’s a possibility of grammatical error. Gif’s not mine.

Working on the same place as your ex was not easy, especially when you thought you moved on already, but you couldn’t help but feel something every time you see him.

Masato David Hayakawa. That name brings a lot of memories for you.

You dated him for a couple of years and everything crumbled because of misunderstanding that at the end of the day, both of you never really had a chance to talk about. It was more of a shouting and screaming kind of breakup.

But here you were, tour managing a smaller band that would open the show for his band, Coldrain, on their international tour. You couldn’t choose but spent a lot of time facing him, and he gave you cold, awkward stare every time.

Seeing him everyday made you spent some of your nights wonder if he ever missed you, or if he ever wrote songs about you. You know your thoughts were dangerous, but you just couldn’t help it.

All thoughts aside, you tried to work your ass off everyday to provide what your band needed. The task included running around the venue, hotel, and tour bus to make sure the show ran smoothly and the band members were safe and comfortable.

Today was no different. You were running back to where the bandwagon was parked, because your vocalist forgot to bring his microphone to the venue for the sound check, when suddenly you hit something solid, and you felt yourself dropped to the floor. You were landing on a wrong foot, and almost instantly felt the pain it caused. You swore without even thinking.

“Gomen.” Said the solid thing that turned out to be someone, instead of something.

The voice sounded so familiar, it sent chills to your bones.

“It’s okay.” You replied shortly. And coldly.

Masato offered his hand to help you, but you ignored it. You tried to stand up on your own but the searing pain on your ankle made you fell back. You swore again.

“Are you okay?”

Yes, of course. Can’t you see? The sarcastic words almost rolled out of your tongue.

“Yes, I’m fine, Masato-san.”

Masato-san. He hated how you spitted the word. It sounded bitter and distance. You used to call him only by his name, without any honorific title like the Japanese usually do.

He reached for your elbow and slowly helped you getting up on your feet and took you to a nearest bench to sat you there.

“I said I’m okay.” You tried to let go of his hands. God, his warm skin felt familiar and you hated it.

“Stop fighting me, Y/N!” He replied harshly. “Let me see how bad your ankle is.”

He rolled up your jeans, and stopped suddenly.

“My God, Y/N. You’re…” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Do you even eat?” That was rude and Masato knew that. He just couldn’t help saying that when he saw your bony figure. Being blunt to you was always his best quality. A pain made of worry and guilt struck him in the chest. Do I cause this?

You’ve been skinny your whole life, but this past few months you felt like you lost your appetite, because of what happened to you and Masato. Heartbreak is a bitch. Besides, you have to work harder than before because one of the band’s crews were quitting, so you lost a few pounds of your weight.

“Stop that!” you almost screamed at him. “Stop making me think that you’re actually care about me!”

“Of course I do care about you, Y/N.” he tried so hard to make his voice sounded calm. He wouldn’t let his emotion got the best of him. Again.

You laughed bitterly. Your tears almost dropped when you said, “well, yeah. Good luck trying to convince me about it.”

With that you stood up and slowly walked to the bus and spent a good 10 minutes cried your heart out in your bunk before went out to handed your vocalist’s microphone.

For a few days after the incident, you felt like you were being watched. Masato’s eyes were observing you like a hawk, especially during meal time. That made you feel uncomfortable but warm at the same time. Nevertheless, you avoided eye contact with him.

If he wasn’t in the room, then you felt like someone else was watching you. Even his band mates and crew often asked if you have eaten, or offered you snacks. Some like Sugi and Katsu even shoved rolls of sushi and bowls of ramen down your throat. You knew Masato was behind all of this and it made you furious. You hated to think that he was still actually care about you, because it made your heart flattered with hope, and harder to move on.

Your foot, on the other hand, just made a little progress of getting better because you still had to do your job running around the venue. The bands also had to move around from one city to another every night, so it was almost impossible to get the chance to meet a doctor.

It was almost midnight and you were still in the venue, making sure that nothing was left behind by the bands and crew. Most of the people you worked with were already left to the hotel to rest. You were walking slowly, limping, stopping every once in a while when you felt the pain was too much, when suddenly someone grabbed your arm and put it on top of their shoulders. Masato grinned at you and you wanted to slap it off of his face.

“Let’s sit here.” He said, pointed to one of a couch that was situated in the room.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be back at the hotel and rest.”

He sat you on the couch and knelt in front of you.

“Ah..still care about me too, I see.” His grin got wider.

“I practically work for you at this point. So it’s only professional”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, Y/N.” His grin turned into a full smile this time.

“Why do you do that?” you asked him grimly.

“Do what?”

“Ask people to watch me if I have enough food in my mouth, and if I get enough sleep, and ---“

“You told me to convince you that I am still care about you, didn’t you?”

“It makes me uncomfortable!” You threw your hands up in the air. “Besides, if you really do care, do it yourself! Don’t go bother your friends just to spy on me.”

“Fine, then let me show you right now.”

It feels like déjà vu. He knelt in front of you, rolled up your jeans.

“Let me see your ankle.” He said softly.

He took off your shoes, and his expression shifted. The grin was gone and his face turned to be serious.

“You should really go see a doctor, you know.”

Your foot was swollen and bruised. It was almost sickening to see.

“I will. Just not now. We’re busy.”

“It’s typical you, Y/N.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your job, and other people’s comfort are always number one for you. Think about yourself once in a while, will you?” His voice was soft, almost like a plea.

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. Is this real? Does he really care about me?

You hanged your head low, avoided his eyes that looked at you intensely.

“This is going to be hurt, but it will help.” His hand touched your cheek, still looking at you.

He then put some pressure on your ankle and you yelped. Your hands instantly grabbed his shoulders, and you couldn’t hold your tears any longer.

Your faces were only inches apart. You could feel his breath fanning over your face. You could see how smooth his skin was. You could see his familiar lips, the one that used to kiss you until you fell asleep. And you cried even harder because you just realized how much you missed him.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N.” his hands found its way back to your cheeks and wiped your tears. He touched his forehead to yours.

“I’m sorry.” His words were low, almost like a whisper.

You laughed softly in between your tears. “For trying to help me fix my ankle?”

But he didn’t laugh back. He shook his head, and said, “For everything.”

Then slowly, he touched his lips on yours. You kissed him back almost instantly, hands grabbed his soft, blond hair. You could feel his smile between the kiss, and it made you smile too. You didn’t know how many minutes passed while you were kissing, but you did know that your hearts were light, yet full at the same time.

“Do you forgive me?” Masato asked you, eyes full of hope.

“I still need to think about it.” You grinned, tried to tease him.

He gave you a soft chuckle. “No, you’re right. You should really think about it. And we should talk about what happened between us.”

“Yeah, sure, later. Now just kiss me again.” You wrapped your hands around his neck.

Masato smiled widely and gladly obliged. “Your wish is my command.”

Then he kissed you. Hard. Never wanted to let you go again.

Gomen = sorry

[gleek-runner]

A tough night (Crowley X Aziraphale)

Note: Sooo that's the first oneshot I wrote, it's a bit sloppy in my opinion and it might have some grammatical errors but I liked it. I put together a bunch of dialogue prompts I found on Tumblr and made this.

Word count: 978

Genre: angst/fluff(?)

Summary: idfkkk😅😂

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It was a cold autumn afternoon in London, it had just stopped raining so the wind was chilly, people were walking around with their umbrellas still open. The streets were slippery and the cars honking non-stop made the atmosphere more intense than it already was.

Crowley was wearing a long black coat and his typical sunglasses despite the fact that it was cloudy afternoon, he was facing down, walking in a fast pace.

Just this morning he got into a big fight with Aziraphale and they ended up breaking up, and he left their apartment without taking his keys so he just wandered around on foot.

"I'm so sorry" he uttered as be bumped against someone, he wasn't thinking straight, he was drunk and even though he could sober up he didn't want to.

He just wanted to forget, and drink again and again and again with no end, he was hurt, heartbroken,  empty and he just wanted to drown in his sorrow.

It seemed like his world has come to an end, he was banished from Hell and was okay with it since he had his boyfriend on his side, but now, now he just wanted to crawl into a ball and disappear. Aziraphale himself told him to get out and never come back, he was certain that this was going to be the end of him.

He sat on a bench for a little while, he looked up to the sky and then down to the ground once again, he kicked some rock angrily "6000 fucking years" mumbled Crowley and clenched his fists so we wouldn't start tearing up "you've cried enough already" he said to himself in a very critical tone and closed his eyes for a bit in an attempt to relax.

He opened them again five or so minutes later when he felt once again the cold raindrops falling, he blinked a couple of times and looked around, shook his head and started walking once again but this time he had a place he wanted to be, a place he had in mind. A special place for him He was still drunk, some would say more than before.

The rain was getting stronger but Crowley was confident, he'd get to where he wanted no matter what, after all it wasn't that far away.

Time passed quickly, he had just arrived at Saints James Park, he was standing in front of the bench he used to sit with Aziraphale, he hoped to see him there, waiting for him , eating a cone of vanilla ice cream or something, but there was no one there.

It was raining.

He was alone.

He sat on the bench , he put his arms around his knees, crawled in a ball and started crying silently and uncomfortably. That was the end he thought. Of course he knew he couldn't die but that wasn't the point.

He cried and cried and cried. He was cold from the rain but he didn't want nor did he have the strength to move so he just sat there.

"Oh dear God" he heard a familiar voice and then felt a hand on his shoulder

"Aziraphale..?" Crowley whipped some tear away and tried to focus "A-a-angel.." he shuttered

"My dear ,you have been drinking, haven't you..?" Aziraphale seemed worried, he sat besides Crowley and he spread his wings so that they could protect both of them from the rain "you are wet to the bone, aren't you freezing?"

"N-no, I mean yes,but w-wait, w-what are you doing here?" Crowley was happy but he couldn't stop crying

"I figured you'd be here..and I've come to apologize, I've said some pretty rough things and I didn't gave you a chance to speak, and I'm sorry about that"

Crowley took a deep breath and looked Aziraphale right into his eyes "it's..it's fine, I'm just scared you know..I feel like I'm not good enough for you, we are totally opposites, and that scares me, you'll leave me, and I'll have no one, I've never been totally alone, from the start of this world we've always had each other and I ju-"

"Baby.." Aziraphale interrupted "Don't be scared, I'm right here" he said and smiled gently as he stared deep into his partners beautiful demon eyes with love

Crowley slowly started to get closer and closer to Aziraphale, and he looked him in the eyes , he still wasn't himself one hundred percent, he seemed lost and Aziraphale noticed

"What's going on?" he asked

Crowley sighed "What if they try to take you away? What if Gabriel comes to talk to you and you know talks you into going back with them.. I can't live without you Angel….I, I, I lονe you more than anything.."

"I feel in love with you for god's sake not them, I wouldn't trade what we have, I would never choose them over you, you have to realise that"  Aziraphale said and kissed him softly on the forehead as they were closing the gap between them

Time passed , it was still raining , but Crowley had dried clothes and he was warm in Aziraphale's hug, the sound of the rain echoed in there ears.

They didn't have to talk to eachother,to feel great at one another's presence.

"How are you feeling Crowley, baby?"

"I'm better , since you're here" he answered and smiled at him

"Well I'm glad, what do you say, let's go back to our apartment shall we? It's past midnight" Aziraphale was stroking his hand through Crowley's hair

"Yeah let's do that, I'm exhausted" Crowley replied and then stretched his arms and yawned.

They stood up.

Crowley learned towards Aziraphale, and kissed him passionately on the lips, like it was their last " I wasn't lying when I said I loved you" he said and gave him a little smirk

"You're back, that's amazing" Aziraphale bubbled as he held hands with Crowley while they were walking home, peacefully.

~The End~

[mrs-jake-blues]

A dramatic post for Al’s birthday

Okay I don't know where to start or where I'm going with so I'll just ramble (hit keep reading if you’re not too distracted by this sexy picture).

This is gonna be dramatic lol. So anyway, almost seven years ago, Scarface was on AMC for Mob Week. I randomly decided to watch it. I didn't move once. I had never been so enthralled watching someone act before. Al, and also the movie itself, completely blew my mind. Especially the ending scene. The next day, I watched Donnie Brasco. Al's line delivery in his last scene about how if anyone was going to be a rat, he was glad it was Donnie, affected me like nothing ever had. I felt that raw emotion deep in my heart, and I was hooked on Al. I spent the next few weeks learning everything I could about him and I watched THE GODFATHER. It quickly became my favorite movie of all time. Everything about that movie is perfect: music, costumes, cinematography, the plot, characters, acting, EVERYTHING. And what stood out to me most was, of course, Al as Michael Corleone. Michael is without a doubt my favorite fictional character and I can't imagine anyone else playing him but Al. The way he portrays the transformation from innocent college boy Marine to ruthless Don is like nothing that's ever been on cinema. I could go on forever about the Godfather and all his other movies, but I'll fast forward to now.  Being a fan of Al has honestly changed my life and in the best way possible. Seeing his passion and dedication for acting and the way he absolutely throws himself into the role and becomes the character is beyond inspiring, even the way he adds something as small as Sonny Wortzik's twitch. I feel so proud seeing how far he's come in life. From nearly dying on the streets after the death of his mother, to becoming one of the most praised actors a few short years later. From being shy, depressed, and suffering from alcoholism to being the silly, smiling guy we've seen in so many pictures and interviews lately. I personally suffer from depression, and seeing how Al has overcome all the obstacles in his life gives me hope that I can too. I feel beyond grateful that I had the opportunity to see him in person and to briefly tell him that I love him, he's my favorite actor, and he means the world to me. It was without a doubt the best moment of my life. I honestly feel like there's no way I could possibly love him more than I do but he proves me wrong every day. I can't remember what my life was like before Al. He brings such happiness to my life and no matter how life is getting to me, watching his movies or interviews, thinking about him, reading about him, looking at pictures, etc always makes me feel better. I've met so many people from all over the world that love him and can see the impact he's had in their lives too, which is incredible that this one man has affected so many people in such a positive way and has brought so many people together to share our love for him. Being a fan of Al's has truly changed my life for the better and I honestly could not have chosen a better fave 😂. It's a little after midnight where I live but it took me a while and skme tears to try to put this into words. I know I could write a lot more and I'm sure there are tons of grammatical errors because I wrote this rather quickly but you can deal with that 😂😂. Anyway, I hope Al had the best birthday ever because he deserve love and happiness more than anyone in the world. HAPPY 78th BIRTHDAY AL 💖💖💖. I love you so much and you truly mean everything to me.

[quackson-klaxon]

just peter, the rain, and his thoughts of you

→ masterlist

pairing: peter parker x reader

synopsis: it’s a rainy day and peter mourns over the reader’s death whilst recalling its events

warnings: a n g s t, death

word count: 1.5 k

a/n: heavily based on the song rain by KNK (English translation). it’s my first shot at angst so please excuse if it gets a bit cheesy in the middle. also, I wrote this at like midnight so sorry for any grammatical errors.

a/n 2.0: btw italicized words = thoughts or flashback

The overhead skies perfectly reflected Peter’s mood as his dull eyes, lacking their youthful luster, gazed at the city on the very rooftop he had taken you on when you had discovered his super-hero identity. Cold pellets of rain poured onto his lone figure yet he couldn’t find it in himself to seek shelter or even care the slightest bit about his health. It wasn’t as if he’d felt alright in a long time anyways, so what was the point of worrying about catching some cold? Numbness was all he felt on the inside yet his tear ducts betrayed him as a constant flow of tears streamed down his face, mingling with the rain drops that found their way onto his skin.

‘I wish you were here. I wish I had been there with you when it happened. I wish I was half the hero you made me believe I was (Y/N).’ His thoughts ran rampant with alternate scenarios- making his heart clench even more with his loss. It had already been a few weeks yet Peter knew for certain that your death left a wound on him that would never fully heal.

“You sure you’re alright, (Y/N)? No strange guys looking at you or anything?” Peter’s concerned voice rang through your phone as you rolled your eyes.

“No Peter. If there was, I would have told you and you would have already knocked him out by now,” you replied with a light-hearted tone. You were just grabbing some coffee from the café down the street from where you lived to get through a project you procrastinated on. Peter was doing the same thing, so he resorted to just being on the phone with you to ensure your safety.

He chuckled at your jab towards him and was about to retort when the sound of a car horn blared through his phone speakers followed by the screech of tires. Peter was acutely aware of his heartbeat as he waited for you to say something on the phone about crazy drivers. After a few moments, he feared the worst.

“(Y-Y/N)? You there?” There was an undeniable shake to his voice while his hand’s grip on the phone tightened considerably. A few more moments passed before your breathy voice broke through the silence on the other side of the line.

“H-hey Pete…”

“(Y/N)? Are you alright? What happened?” His questions fired in rapid succession.

A strangled cough.

“… I’m not sure if I could finish that project after all…”

Cold dread settled at the pit of Peter’s stomach as he connected the dots. Abruptly, he got up from his desk and hastily put on his Spider-Man suit with his phone still pressed to his ear.

“Babe no. Don’t say that. I’m on my way right now just hang on.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but it trembled near the end of his statement. Uncle Ben’s loss was one he had barely recovered from. How was he going to be if you left him too? When the only thing left of you would be the memories you two shared? His eyes prickled with tears that threatened to be spilled, but he forced them down to focus on the matter at hand: getting to you. The suit was finally on and he wasted no time with jumping out of his window. It would have normally been a struggle for him to use his motor skills with only one hand available, but sheer desperation made up for what he lacked ability-wise.

“You know I love you. Right, Peter?” Your voice seemed so frail now, soft but full of tenderness that gave it a sort of strength as well.

“Of course I do (Y/N). I love you so so much too, so please- hang on for me.”

Every intake of your breath was heard by Peter through the phone, but each inhale was getting shallower and shallower. Peter muttered obscenities under his breath as he wished that he lived closer to you.

“(Y/N) darling, did you see anyone call an ambulance for you or anything? I don’t want you to be risking your life just to talk with me.”

“…mm? Yeah… I’m not too far from the café so the employees saw me… they think I’m crazy talking on the phone like this.” A laugh drifted out of you before it was cut off by more rounds of coughing, each one weaker than the last.

“(Y/N) please don’t die on me now. I swear I’m almost there.”

“I’m not sure if I can promise that right now Peter…”

“No! Please…” he rounded the corner to be met with a horrific scene. There was no sign of the car that hit you - a hit and run - and Peter would have tried to track down the driver had you not been in such a state. Your body was still as it lay in a pool of the crimson liquid flowing out of it. Peter ended the call and ran over to you, cradling you in his arms as he examined your figure and not giving a single damn that blood was getting onto his suit.

“(Y/N)…” he choked out as he saw the extent of the damage the car left. He took off his mask, not caring that his identity may be revealed. The only thing that mattered ro him right now was you. The darkness of the night obscured the bruises that were definitely there but the amount of blood he felt on his fingertips gave him a clear image. He would have tried to get you to the hospital himself had you not been bleeding so profusely.

“Peter…” your hand shakily rested on his cheek whilst said boy held it there, holding it as if it was his own lifeline.

“Yes (Y/N) I’m here.”

“I’m so glad that I got to see your face… to have you be physically here with me… gosh, I don’t want to leave you here like this… I still haven’t done a lot of stuff yet… graduate, go to (college of choice), hopefully get married with you…” You fought your own tears as you realized you wouldn’t be able to experience such joys. You weren’t even embarrassed that you basically admitted to wanting to spend the rest of your life to him. Peter could feel himself feel both warm and bitter at your revelation. He was thinking the same thing, but he didn’t think that you would admit it to each other like this.

“Me too (Y/N). I wanted to experience that and more with you. As both Spider-Man and my ordinary self, I know our relationship hasn’t been exactly the most normal, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve stuck by my side through thick and thin and I just- in this roller coaster called life, I wanted you to continue being my rock, my partner, my love.” He rested his forehead against yours, trying to memorize the feel of your skin on his before it was much too late.

“I guess life really is unpredictable…” with the last of your strength, you used your hand on his cheek and maneuvered it towards the back of his head, pulling it downwards so your lips touched for the final time.

The tenderness of your love for each other, grief for the future that could have been, and an unspoken goodbye was fervently displayed in those moments that would be deeply embedded into your hearts for the rest of your lives- your end approaching fast.

“I love you, Peter Parker. Continue protecting our home for us, eh?” That said, your eyes finally fluttered to a close, body falling limp in Peter’s arms.

“It’s not home without you, (Y/N), but I’ll try my best.” Furiously wiping the tears in his eyes, he reluctantly slipped his mask on as the sound of the ambulance arrived far too late.

As the events replayed in his mind, his heartstrings tugged painfully and an anguished cry erupted from his throat. Peter’s eyes squeezed shut - in pain, to shield himself from the rain or the world; he wasn’t entirely sure - while his hand clenched before weakly pounding on the rooftop floor.

He listened to your voicemails every night, kept the picture of him and you as his lock screen although it pained him, and held your favorite sweater close to remember your scent until he committed it to memory.

He didn’t care if it was pathetic or clingy.

He just wanted you back, but he was certain, as true as rain fell from the sky, his chaste wish would never come true.

The world continued moving and Peter would eventually do so as well. Until then however, the rain was his sole companion that truly knew the depths of what your death brought upon the boy who loved you with all his mind, heart, and soul.