#and i wish more than anything that people would just *care*

[sabertoothwalrus]

It's kinda comforting to hear someone else talk about having trichotillomania. I've had it since I was 4.

With how little it's talked about or understood by others there's a level of loneliness compounding the feeling of shame around it. If you'd feel comfortable, do you think you could share your experience with it?

oh absolutely. It’s something that feels very isolating but it’s surprisingly much more common than you’d think!! I think it’s really important to talk about, but unfortunately it’s also one of those things that’s kinda triggering to bring up hfhshdjd SO TW TRICH STUFF

When I was like 8-9 I plucked out all my eyelashes and eyebrows and my mom freaked out. I was too embarrassed to tell her that it was me, so I ended up getting dragged to the hospital to have my blood drawn. After that ?? I managed to stop picking at my face hairs. I think by middle school since I was wearing mascara, I knew I needed to be more careful removing it or my eyelashes would come out, so that helped somehow.

But I never managed to stop plucking anywhere else. The top of my head always has a thin patch. When I was 10-11ish, it was so bare I had to wear bandanas every day to cover it up.

I wish I could offer advice on how to treat it but I have none 🙈 I make no attempt to do anything about it…. No one comments on my hair so I assume it’s either not that bad or people are just too polite. which is good!

[hyunjuenthusiast]

Im craving for angst , so girl can you write about Hyun ju x female reader

Basically Hyun ju and female reader have been dating for 1 and half year now, but things didn't went so well after attending squid game, Hyun ju gave young mi more attention , than she did for female reader so she distance herself from Hyun ju and her team, wondering why female reader ditched her. So female reader went to Gi Hun's team instead. And to make things worse not only Hyun ju voted O to continue the game, but Hyun ju lost the love of her life during the Mingle, ANND.. It took Hyun ju 2 to 4 business days to figure out that she hasn't been a good girlfriend ever since they came to squid game and Hyun ju Crashes out so badly.

(Female reader committed su!cide during Mingle, died instead of young mi and the shaman lady predicted female reader's death)

(And YES the guilt is definitely eating Hyun ju alive)

Sorry if this is too long

Take your time for this one

゜・（／。＼）・゜

Okayyyy complex, I like it! Hopefully I do this ask justice 🙏🏻

HER ANGEL

Pairing: Hyun-ju x femreader

Warnings: ANGST, depression, death, suicide, longing, survivors guilt.

Insecure. That was a word Y/n had always been familiar with. Ever since she was little. Her mother would criticize everything she did. If she ate too much, if she didn't eat enough. If her hair was down, if her hair was up. If she smiled, and if she didn't smile. Everything she did up until she was an adult was judged.

When she finally got the taste of freedom, moving out at the ripe age of eighteen, she discovered that the world was an ugly place. Nothing like how she fantasized how it would be. The books were wrong.

For the first few years after moving out, she was alone. Truly alone. She had no one. No friends to call late at night, no fuzzy kitten to cuddle when she had tears running down her face on a rainy day. No significant other who would whisper sweet nothings to her as she fell asleep... No one.

Not until she met her angel. Hyun-ju.

Everything had changed. For the first time in her life, Y/n felt like she deserved to take up space in the world. Hyun-ju made her feel wanted, loved. She erased every insecurity Y/n had. She loved every flaw and imperfection. She kissed her scars and wiped her tears.

Hyun-ju was her soul mate.

Y/n didn't care that her angel was different. She didn't care how people looked at them in public. Hyun-ju was perfect, in every way. Even if her angel couldn't see it for herself.

Hyun-ju told Y/n of her wishes for surgery. She had cried to Y/n about her debt and abandonment. And Y/n was there to comfort her in return, wiping her angels tears away and whispering promises.

So when a nice-looking man asked Y/n to play a game, showing her the money she would win, of course she agreed. For her angel, for Hyun-ju.

Y/n didn't need convincing to call the number on the back on the card. Once she saw Hyun-ju looking at herself in front of the mirror, her eyes filled with loathing, she dialed the number.

It was the least she could do. Hyun-ju had given Y/n her sense of self back. She had given Y/n her smile back. Of course, she would return the favor. Anything for her angel.

Waking up to the blasted music, she looked around to see other people. Waring the ugliest green she had ever seen. Looking down at herself, she saw her jacket was labeled 005.

She gathered around like everyone else. Waiting for an explanation. There were so many pink guards and even more players. They explained that they weren't trying to collect debt or cause any harm.

"Excuse me!" Said a voice. Not just any voice. Her angel's voice. Y/n quickly turned and saw Hyun-ju. Her Hyun-ju standing near a couple of bunks. She didn't catch what her angel said next, only focused on the fact that she was here.

Y/n winced as she saw Hyun-ju getting slapped. That was the day her angel had gone on a walk. She remembers her coming home, acting strange. Hyun-ju had met the salesman before Y/n did.

As all the players walked in single file lines up the colorful steps to get their pictures taken, Y/n looked around for Hyun-ju. Seeing her fixing her hair prettily, she smiles and quickly walks up to her. "Angel!" Y/n gushes.

Instead of greeting Y/n with a smile, Hyun-ju tenses. Asking her what she was doing here. "I know how much you need the money..." Y/n whispers softly, watching as Hyun-ju's eyes soften.

As they all walk into the first game, Hyun-ju holds Y/n's hand. "Don't separate from me, sweet girl. Okay?" Her angel asks softly. Y/n squeezes her hand in return.

"What is that?" Y/n asks, pointing to the giant doll like figure in the distance.

"Green light..."

Y/n quickly runs forward a few steps, then stops.

"Red light!" The doll waits, seeing if anyone would move.

The first to go was 196. Y/n stood, stiff as a board, the sound of people dying behind her. When the doll says green light, no one moves forward, but Hyun-ju reaches over and grips Y/n's hand.

Player 456 explains that they will die anyway if they don't cross the finish line in time, and so, she stays behind Hyun-ju, racing towards the finish line.

Once across, she watches in horror as her angel races back across to help player 456. This is the first and only time that Y/n has ever wanted to yell at Hyun-ju.

The second game is the six legged pentathlon. Her and Hyun-ju look around for more teammates. She notices Hyun-ju's fallen expression when people stare at her, and when they don't want to join because of her.

"Excuse me?" A timid voice says from behind the both of them. Y/n and Hyun-ju turn to see a small girl, obviously nervous. "W-Would you...like to team up with me?" She asks, looking at Hyun-ju first, then to Y/n.

Ever since then, Hyun-ju had been attached at the hip with Young-Mi. It was hard for Y/n not to notice, especially in a place like this. When she wanted comfort and reassurance from her angel, she would see that Hyun-ju was already comforting Young-Mi, that she was already whispering words of encouragement to her instead of Y/n.

But that was just who her angel was. She was kind to everyone, and Y/n had no right to take that away from Young-Mi. Y/n could clearly see how terrified the small girl was, and if Hyun-ju was her safe place, then who was Y/n to take that away from her?

That's was until Y/n heard it. What Hyun-ju was saying to Young-Mi.

"I won't let anything happen to you, sweet girl." Hyun-ju had said. Y/n felt her stomach drop. Sweet girl. That was Y/n's nickname. That was her word of endearment.

She decided to give them space. Joining player 456 and his team.

The third game was mingle.

As they all stood on the platform, Y/n watched as Hyun-ju held Young-Mi's hand, giving her soft smiles. Y/n felt horrible for feeling envious. Would she always be cursed to be this insecure? Would she ever feel content with anything?

"TEN"

The voice said. Everyone scrambled to find their groups and rooms. So far, their team had nine after joining Hyun-ju. Until her angel grabbed the crazy shaman lady.

Running into the green room, Y/n pants, not even bothering to look at her angel holding onto another woman. Hyun-ju gives her a confused look, wondering why she had left their group.

"Your heavy sorrow will swallow you whole." The crazy lady says, making everyone look at her. Y/n shrinks into herself as she realizes that she's talking to her. "You won't last much longer, I'm afraid. Pity. You have the purest birthstone."

"SIX" the voice says.

Gi-hun and Young-il had split from the group, leaving Y/n no other choice but to join Hyun-ju.

They all run to a yellow door, freezing in their tracks as they see a group is already in there. Hyun-ju races to find a different one.

She found one.

Y/n starts to run towards it with the other people in her group, but when she sees player 333 running towards it too, she slows down.

Looking over at her angel, she sees her clutching Young-Mi's hand.

The pregnant girl holds her belly.

The mother and sun cling to each other.

Where did Y/n fit into that? She didn't.

She has seen Jun-hee talking to player 333 on several occasions...

She needed him, more than any of them needed Y/n.

She made her decision then.

As player 333 races into the room, she finally hears Hyun-ju calling for her. Her angel was trying to get 333 out of the way.

Y/n walks to the door, looking into the small slit. "Y/n, what the hell are you doing? Go find a room! Go!" Hyun-ju shouts. Y/n only shakes her head softly.

"Ita okay angel." She whispers, putting her hands onto the door. Hyun-ju is starting to panic. The timer still had thirteen seconds on it. "I know there's no place for me here. Not now." Y/n says, tearing up.

Hyun-ju continues to shout, begging Y/n to go find a room. "You made me feel so inside the lines, Hyun-ju. Like I wasn't a lost shade outside of the pretty design. I could actually fit inside the art." Y/n says with a sad smile.

"I never thanked you for that." She says. "Thank you for showing me. For guiding me to see who I was for the first time."

Nine seconds on the timer.

"I know you'll be happy. You'll make it out of here and live the life you've always dreamed of...live the life you've always deserved. A life, with Young-Mi." Y/n's lip quivers.

Four seconds on the timer.

Hyun-ju starts shaking the door, sobbing and yelling. "I love you, my angel." She whispers tearfully, letting out a pained breath as she feels the bullet peirce her back.

"NO! Y/N!"

Player 333 had left that room beaten to a bloody pulp.

At first, Young-Mi's hand doesn't feel out of place instead of her own, not for the next two games.

Until Y/n's words repeat instead of her head.

A life...with Young-Mi.

Once she realizes it, she drops Young-Mi's hand as if it had burned her. She had been holding the wrong woman. Comforting the wrong woman. Calling her...

She had called the wrong woman sweet girl.

Hyun-ju looks over to Young-Mi, a tear falling. She had made the love of her life question her love.

She had been at fault for her sweet girl's death. Not 333. Not even the guards. Hyun-ju was the reason.

"Don't worry. You'll be seeing her again, " the shaman says. "A lot sooner than you think."

For the next game... was human chess.

I'm scared.... what do we think?

[htrfkyeki]

1.

"What do you want from me in return huh?"

"Oya oya, someone are lovely enough for lean me a hand hmm. So, want to join me tea party?"

"Rightttttttt, i was so weakkkkkk right now, thanks for your help."

"...i can do it myself, please."

"Heh? Do i need to pay you?"

"Why?"

"You busybody, you know?"

"No thank you, i can do it myself."

"Do you think you can do it?"

2.

"You think it's funny?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, everyone know i was the Mad Hatter a long time ago, you lag behind very much, buggy."

"Hehhhhh. Really? That's all you can say?"

"...i will tell the twins."

"I have the better one for you though, what do you refer more, poison or desert, or BOTH?"

"My strings can carry even something heavy like a car, do you want to try yourself?"

"You know, i made someone went missing before, and i don't mind to do it again?"

"DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?"

"𝔈𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔷𝔷𝔞𝔯𝔡."

3.

"And you give it to me because?"

"Oh, i also have useless thinggy too, twiny much hahaha."

"I'll give it to Ruggie-senpai, thanks."

"...do you not know how to use money wisely?"

"Do i look poor to you?"

"You can have it back."

"Even Dia-san have more useful thing that the one you give me now."

"Why?"

"I don't need that."

4.

*Sigh* "Make sure to clean all of it later, 'k?"

"Eh? Tea party? Why it's not tea partyyyyyyyy?"

"What a hassle..."

*He running away when he saw there was a party waitting for him.

"Did Kalim told you to do this? Jamil didn't said anything either?"

"I- thank you."

"Huh?"

"Why?"

"Did someone force you to do this?"

5.

"Who ask?"

"Me too, hehe."

"And you telling me this because?"

"...do i know you?"

"As if i care."

"Wow, you thought you was someone important to me for me to care that much?"

"Then go away?"

"So?"

"You wasting my time, you know that?"

6.

presume the one ignore them was their lovers

"Why are you ignore me? Was i do something wrong? Please, i hate being like this, Jade..."

"Eh? Trey? Pay attention to meeeeeee."

"I just give Cheka a headpat and now you sulking with me? Really, Leo-san?"

*He crying. Azul then have to appease him and promise that he still love Erol.

"You know that not working on me right Kalim? Do you one me to pull that trick instead?"

"What did i do this time to upset you, Vil-san..."

"I'M SORRY... please don't ignore me Dia-san..."

"Are you in bad mood right now? Or i just fuck up something? Talk to me, Floyd."

"It's... fine i guess. I used to be ignore anyway..."

7.

"What are you doing?"

"Am i that famous?"

"Attention seeker much?"

"...and here i thought only Floyd could make some scene."

"Uh oh. Why is everyone looking at me? I'm not doing anything."

*Sigh* "I hate it here."

*He use his unique magic to run away.

"You're even worst than Sebek, and that boy only cause scenes when it relate to Malleus-senpai."

*Bold of you to assume that Nevi show up in public.

8.

"No."

"Gladly." *progress to pull a loudest voice he could produce.

*Side eyes that person until they coward away.

*He stare blankly at that person, until the twins magically appear in front of them and ask Erol what's wrong. That doesn't end well...

"Told Kalim instead, he is a person people after all."

"You're crazy."

"Do you want me to blackmail you instead?"

"You have some gut for told me to do that. And that's not a compliment."

"Why i have to do that?"

9.

"Really? Jade said that? Let's me ask him then, and i'll do that if it's real. And if not... you dead."

"TREYYYYY, DO YOU REALLY WANT ME TO GO WITH THIS BUGGY TODAY INSTEAD OF YOU?"

"As if Leo-san would tell me to do that. Next time try to be more creative, yeah?"

"I- did Azul really told me to sing in front of you and your frie-" *He didn't finish his sentence, as Azul appear behind him with his sinister smile.

"You sound too suspicious. What do you plotting now you peasant."

*He call Vil for comfirmation, after the housewarden denying he didn't said anything like that, Vermeil give that person a death stare, then go away.

*Deadpanned. Then go away, he didn't want to deal with stupid people.

"Oh, so FLOYD LEECH told me to do that huh? Bring him here, make him tell it himself, then i comply." *The unhinged Leech happen to pass by that time, let's say after that no one dare to put word in either of them mouth anymore.

*He doesn't even let that person finish the sentence and teleport to somewhere else. It's happen to be Malleus dorm room. After Nevi ask him if the thing that person want him to do was real. And of course it's not real. Then they cuddle. (Malleus ask Lilia to find the person who have a gut to mess with his mate, then make sure that person never try to do anything like that again).

10.

"Don't want to, thank anyway."

"Oh. Party? Can i invite my boyfriend and friends too?"

"I have enough with social gathering, thank you very much."

"S-sorry, i'm busy right now."

"Sorry, i'm already join one, the one Kalim organize at Scarabia. Do you want to join instead?"

"Can i refuse it?"

"Uh uh, no party, i hate loud place, sorry."

"Did you invite wrong person? I'm not Malleus-senpai."

*The person was too scare to approach him, let's alone invite him to social gathering.

11.

"Isn't it a little bit too much? I don't have money to pay you back you know."

"I know it's out of character for me, but fancy restaurant doesn't suit me at all, i'm sorry."

"Are you try to impress me?"

"Do you want to go to Monstro Lounge instead? I have a discount for worker in there."

"Fancy lancy. At least you have some taste."

"Uh oh, you're rich."

"Can we not-"

"Oh, really?"

"My sincere thanks to you, but i'm afraid i can not join you for dinner right now."

☆ — oc questions: reactions. by @ricesinspo, tag me if using!

— ☆ —

how would your character react if someone did these things? consider their personality and behavior, as well as who is doing it and why.

alternatively, ask game: send me a question + 2 characters

offered to help them on something they can do on their own

jokingly made fun of them

gave them a gift they didn't want

threw them a surprise party

told them "i don't care about you"

kept ignoring them

brought lots of attention to them

asked them to perform in front of an audience, like right now, without prep

asked them to do something they're uncomfortable with, "oh, but you have to do it, for [loved one]!"

invited them to a social gathering

took them to a fancy restaurant

told them they're a bad friend / partner / ...

wrote them a poem

died two weeks ago (they only found out now)

pulled a prank on them that went very wrong

pulled them aside from the crowd

told them a secret

exposed something about them that should've been kept private

told them "we need to talk."

punched them

— ☆ —

[sincerelybubbles]

I wrote a continuation to this forever ago and never posted it, but I want you to have it finally <3 warnings: none pairing: hotch x shy!reader after the Rossi dinner party

||||

The ride home is quiet, save for the low hum of the car’s engine and the occasional flick of the windshield wipers. The rain isn’t heavy, just a soft drizzle, enough to blur the streetlights into golden smears across the windshield. It matches the warmth in your chest, the soft buzz of wine lingering pleasantly in your veins.

Aaron had insisted on driving you home, his voice leaving no room for argument but full of something gentler than authority—concern. You hadn’t argued. Not really. There’s something reassuring about letting him take care of you, about trusting him in a way that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud. You hadn't had enough wine for it to truly affect you, but the sentiment of keeping you safe was worth the headache of doubling back to get your car tomorrow.

You steal a glance at him from the passenger seat, watching how the passing streetlights paint warm golds and deep shadows over his profile. Strong, steady hands grip the wheel, fingers flexing occasionally as if he needs to remind himself to loosen his hold. His brows are slightly furrowed, his lips pressed together in thought.

He’s always thinking. Always watching. Always carrying the weight of something.

“You’re quiet,” you say softly, voice just above a whisper.

He glances at you briefly before returning his focus to the road. “So are you.”

You smile a little. “I don’t mind the quiet.”

“I know,” he replies, and something in the way he says it makes your stomach flutter. He knows. He understands. He sees you in a way few people do.

You shift slightly in your seat, curling into yourself but keeping your gaze on him. “Thank you for driving me.”

His grip tightens on the wheel again, just for a second. “I wanted to.”

And you believe him.

The rain patters softly against the windshield. It feels safe here, in the dim light, wrapped in the quiet.

“You don’t usually drink much,” he says after a moment, a statement rather than a question. "Not that you especially splurged tonight, but I was surprised when you went for a second and third glass."

You hum. “I like wine, but I don’t like feeling out of control.”

He nods, his profile unreadable. You wonder if he’s thinking about control in the way you are, about the way the two of you hold onto it like armor. The way it protects and isolates all at once.

“But I feel safe with you,” you add, voice quieter, almost like an afterthought.

He turns to look at you at a red light, just for a second. It’s enough. His eyes are soft, deep, searching. You can’t hold his gaze for long without feeling like he might see too much, so you turn your head, watching the droplets race down the window.

“Good,” he finally murmurs. “You should.”

You don’t know how to explain that it’s not just about logic, about knowing you’re physically safe in his presence. It’s the way he watches over you, the way he notices things without needing to be told, the way his presence feels like something solid in a world that so often shifts beneath your feet.

You don’t say anything else for the rest of the drive, and neither does he. But it’s not a silence that begs to be filled. It’s comfortable, natural, something that settles between you both with a kind of certainty.

When he pulls up in front of your place, he puts the car in park but doesn’t make any move to leave. His fingers drum lightly against the steering wheel before stilling. He’s hesitating.

You turn to him, the dim glow of the dashboard illuminating the contemplative lines on his face. “Hotch?”

He doesn’t correct you to call him Aaron. He almost never does, though he wishes you would say his name more often. He swallows, trying to organize the thoughts colliding in his mind.

He loves you.

The realization crashes into him like a rogue wave, all at once and without mercy. He loves you. He loves the way you observe before you speak, the way you care without demanding attention, the way you make space for others without shrinking yourself. He loves the sound of your voice, the soft weight of your presence, the way you look at him like you see the man beneath the badge, beneath the title, and still choose to stay close.

It terrifies him.

For years, he told himself love like this wasn’t meant for him anymore. That he’d had his time, that losing Haley had carved something irreparable into him. That he could live a life of purpose without expecting a life of warmth.

But then you had come along, patient and kind, with your quiet strength and steady presence. And without him realizing, you had become home.

His breath catches slightly, an ache settling in his chest—not a painful one, but the kind that comes with longing, with the fear of having something precious and being terrified to lose it.

You’re watching him now, concern laced in your expression. “Aaron?” You taste his first name on your lips, hoping it shocks him into an answer. Hoping it drags him into revealing his thoughts.

The sound of his name from your lips grounds him. He turns to face you fully, his hands curling into loose fists against his thighs. There’s something vulnerable in his expression, something raw and unguarded that he isn’t used to showing.

“Get inside safe,” he says, voice low, steady. “Text me when you’re in.”

You study him for a second longer before nodding. “I will.”

You hesitate before reaching out, your fingers brushing lightly over his where they rest on his leg. It’s fleeting, but he feels it everywhere.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” you say softly, and the warmth in your voice is enough to unravel him further. You decide to not push him further, savoring the devotion swimming in his eyes without commenting on it.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, watching as you step out and disappear inside.

He exhales slowly, running a hand down his face as he leans back against the headrest. He should be afraid of this, of what it means, of what it could cost him.

But for the first time in years, love doesn’t feel like something he’s doomed to lose.

It feels like something he’s finally allowed to have.

[marsdql]

through rose-coloured glasses [P.SH] v.1

synopsis: Sunghoon thought you would always be there—his angel, patient and unwavering. But the thing about angels is that once they fall, they never return the same. And when he realizes what he’s done, it’s already too late.

toxic!sunghoon x naïve(?)!reader | wc: 1.4k | cw: Emotional manipulation, gaslighting, toxic relationships, possessiveness, abuse of power in a relationship, self-doubt, mild violence (psychological), themes of control and dependency, full angst, mentions of angels(angel concept)

Want to see other versions of this drabble? Click here!

Sunghoon didn’t know when he started feeling it.

The weight.

The suffocating, gnawing weight of your absence, pressing against his chest like a cold, heavy stone.

You were still here, technically. Still breathing the same air, still sitting across from him, still responding when he spoke.

But you weren’t here.

Not really.

And that’s when he knew—he had finally done it.

He had finally broken you.

You used to wait for him.

Every night, even when he didn’t come home, even when his phone rang unanswered, you still waited.

You still smiled when he finally showed up, arms open, heart soft, always willing to forgive.

But now?

Now, you didn’t wait.

You didn’t call.

You didn’t even ask where he had been.

That should’ve made things easier for him.

He should’ve felt relieved.

Instead, it terrified him.

It started with the little things.

The way you stopped greeting him with soft kisses, stopped reaching for his hand first, stopped filling the silences with your usual bright, endless chatter.

Then, it got worse.

Your eyes, once so warm, so trusting, had gone dull.

You used to look at him like he was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

Now, you barely looked at him at all.

One night, he came home late. Again.

The apartment was dark except for the soft glow of a single lamp.

You were sitting on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring at nothing.

Something inside him twisted.

“Angel,” he called softly, like he always did.

You didn’t even blink.

His throat went dry. He stepped closer, hesitating before sitting beside you. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.”

Silence.

The kind that made his skin crawl.

Sunghoon sighed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you mad?”

Finally, you looked at him. And for the first time in forever, he wished you hadn’t. Because the way you looked at him wasn’t sad.

It wasn’t angry—It wasn’t anything. You just looked… empty.

“I don’t think I have the energy to be mad anymore,” you said simply.

His heart stuttered.

“Angel, don’t—”

“Don’t call me that.”

His breath caught.

You had never stopped him before.

Never.

His fingers twitched, but he pulled his hand back, suddenly unsure, suddenly scared.

You sighed, looking away. “I think I finally get it now.”

His chest tightened. “Get what?”

You smiled. Small. Hollow.

“The way you are,” you murmured. “The way you only pull me close when you feel me slipping. The way you make me think I’m the problem, that I’m too much, when really… you just never had enough to give.”

His stomach dropped.

“Wait—”

“I spent so long thinking if I just stayed, if I just loved you enough, you’d love me the same.” You let out a soft, humorless laugh. “But I was wrong.”

Sunghoon’s head spun. “That’s not true,” he said quickly. “You know I care about you.”

“Caring isn’t the same as loving.”

Sunghoon’s blood turned cold.

And it was in that moment—when he saw the hollow look in your eyes, the space where your warmth used to be—that he understood the full weight of what he had done.

You had fallen.

Not just away from him, but from everything.

You had fallen from grace.

He had taken your light, your softness, your belief in the good of people, and twisted it into something unrecognizable.

He had pushed you so far that the angel who once believed in unconditional love, who forgave him time and time again, was now nothing more than a shell of herself.

You were no longer his angel.

You were a fallen angel.

It wasn’t just a change in attitude or behavior.

It was in the way your presence had shifted.

The lightness that once radiated from you was gone, replaced by a darkness that felt thick and heavy.

You were still here, still walking in this world, but you had fallen into something else.

Something cold.

And he had made it happen.

Sunghoon couldn’t understand how he didn’t see it sooner.

How he didn’t realize that the angel he had been holding onto so selfishly was no longer the same.

You didn’t look at him the way you used to.

You didn’t care the way you used to.

And when you finally spoke again, the words cut deeper than any insult or argument could.

“I’m not waiting for you anymore,” you whispered. “I’m not begging you to love me anymore.”

He didn’t know what to say.

His chest felt hollow. His limbs heavy.

He had thought he could fix this.

He had thought he could pull you back, whisper the right words, hold you close again, and you’d forgive him—again.

But now, it was too late.

The angel he had known was gone.

And in her place, stood something darker, something colder—

A fallen angel.

And it was his fault.

You didn’t need him anymore.

The angel that had once given him everything had disappeared, leaving nothing behind but the broken pieces of a love that could never be mended.

You had fallen so far from where you once were, but there was no redemption in sight.

Because you no longer believed in the same things.

No longer believed in him.

Sunghoon’s heart clenched as he realized what he had done.

You weren’t his angel anymore.

You were something else now—someone who had seen the darkness, who had lived in the shadows, and who no longer believed in the light.

And he couldn’t bring you back.

Because he was the one who had made you fall.

You didn’t look back.

You didn’t wait for him to apologize, to change, to fix what had been broken.

Because you had already fallen too far to care.

And there was no saving you.

Not anymore.

[forsaken-headcanons]

Okay!!! Seems people really like my pretty heavy angst of 007n7 and c00lkidd!! As promised, here are some of my mostly non-angsty headcanons, even though they aren’t as good as the last ones- I still added some more angst headcanons to this cause why not?

- Before 007n7 started to care for c00lkidd, he was fat. I also believe in fat 007n7 supremacy, BUT after he got c00lkidd, he started to lose the weight in an unhealthy manner. As in, he started to not eat as much anymore, though he isn’t stranger to stress eating. However, c00lkidd is more so on the plump side due to his father making sure that he eats, at least more than he does now. Unfortunately, 007n7 never really gained the weight back, even during the events of Forsaken. Dare I say it might’ve gotten worse.

- c00lkidd has a strange fascination with fire. He would sometimes set small things ablaze like sticks and paper. And no surprise that there were a few times where he accidentally almost burned down the house. 007 is worried that he might be an arsonist one day. This thought especially came into light when c00lkidd set Elliot’s pizza place into a giant inferno.

- c00lkidd used to wear a blue bandana around his neck, which was a gift from his father and allowed him to match with him since 007n7’s main shirt is blue. He unfortunately lost it by the time he arrived in the world of Forsaken.

- c00lkidd owns a drakkobloxxer onesie. It was a Christmas gift and he would almost wear it 24/7.

- Since c00lkidd nor 007n7 know when c00l’s actual birthday was, they decided it would just be the day he arrived at 007’s doorstep.

- Whenever c00lkidd saw that his father is having a bad day, he would try anything to help him feel better. Like giving him frequent hugs, trying to play with him, perhaps even watch a tv show/movie together and relax, etc. These often work since 007 usually feels at peace whenever he’s with c00lkidd.

- 007 has of course tried to get babysitters in the past to keep an eye on c00lkidd, but they all could only take care of him for a few hours before deciding never again. So, c00lkidd was home alone most of the time.

- 007 does not wish for a relationship with anyone back then and perhaps even now as he believes he does not have time for it.

- c00lkidd is usually pretty clingy with his dad, almost always wanting his attention and expecting his time and care back. He whines and sometimes whenever 007 has to leave for work most of the time. 007 always tries to make up for this by giving c00lkidd attention when he gets back, even if he is tired.

- 007n7 has gotten plushies before for c00l in hopes of making him feel less lonely, but they were either all torn to shreds or lit ablaze.

I do have some more headcanons but guys.. do we fw creature-like c00lkidd, like I just want to see him with a tail, digitigrade legs, and paws… make him somewhat inspired by the drakkobloxxer or a dinosaur or dragon perhaps… if we do I will maybe post my headcanons for those..

I love all of those. And yes, I do fw creature-like C00lkidd very much. Please send your thoughts on that as well.

[bitch-i-migth-be]

I love your brain, please have a biscuit.

I kept thinking about the og baby a lot while I was writing that. Poor thing, just made up so he can die for the sake of the plot.

Also imposter syndrome.

In this case, for example, it would be interesting to see that even if Tim can relate to Kon- it’s not actually the same, because while Kon was made to replace Superman he never actually had to do it, he got to be his own person.

Tim doesn’t get that here.

He did replace someone. Even if that wasn’t the objective of his creation. He is actively living under the name of a dead boy (which later gets even worse after Jason dies and the whole Replacement Robin situation happens), . he didn’t get to be named by people that loves him or even choose one himself.

If anything the scientists who made him gave him some serial number and called it a day, because you know that cloning Danny isn’t easy, it got to have taken many many tries. Tim would be lucky if he doesn’t have it tattooed somewhere in his body like cattle, the GIW was interested in his biology not his aesthetics.

He didn’t have any other option or resources when the Drakes ‘took him in’, and by the time he could have actually done something about it he was already far too deep in his life as Tim Drake. Far too deep in the vigilante life, far too deep in a family and friends

Before becoming Robin, Tim didn’t think he would get that. He thought he would have to bide his time, be the Perfect Little Son he was purchased to be until he actually had a shot at disappearing with the minimum risk of being dragged back to the labs or the Drake’s;

Following the Dynamic Duo around was never supposed to be more than a pass time, and then maybe doing some wishful thinking about how maybe they could help him, and battling with himself about whether it was a good idea to drag them into his mess.

And then the Joker fucked it all up, his chance was gone and he had to step up before Batman managed to kill himself in his grief because no one else would do it.

Can you imagine if somewhere in his archives he actually has a file with a life he invented/built for himself before being Robin? a name he chose?? With so much care because this was supposed to actually be his. Maybe he still tweaks it up from time to time just because he can’t let the idea go, even now.

And if any of the bats ever finds it they would just think it’s another one of Tim’s alias, like Alvin Draper, and maybe they make fun of him because ‘some of those things are really cheesy, Timbo. how did you came up with that??’

And Tim just has to pretend that he is Fine TM ‘yeah, haha, laugh it up’ like it doesn’t hurt because what is he supposed to say at this point?

It was never supposed to get this far. He was not supposed to get attached, to have people he actually cared about and then lie, lie, lie. Not while he was still Tim.

He should have been gone by now, to have finally laid the memory of Timothy Jackson Drake to rest and become his own person.

But He doesn’t want to loose this. He is catastrophizing whenever he is not in deep denial about the situation but it doesn’t change the facts.

He got an actual life now, with family and friends like he always wanted.

But it’s still a fucking lie

In which Jack & Janet Drake manage to neglect their toddler to death and have to find a replacement before the police or, god forbid, the media tears them apart.

It’s a good thing the US Government is getting rid of the GIW’s highly immoral test subjects before the JL can crack down on them.

Ha. Jokes on you, Jason.  ‘Tim’ has always been the replacement.

[auguryofjellyfish]

my chap 4 death predictions as of day 26. i made this a few days ago and surprisingly, it stayed entirely the same even after the motive drop.

this is more vibes-based than anything. would ojima make sense as a killer? ....maybe? i don't know how though. i guess that he could be the victim and yanagi the killer, i think it could be either-or. my reasoning for this order specifically:

three words- maximizing tragedy factor.

hirojima and/or hayashigeki ain't surviving. one, or both pairs are gonna get broken up now.

ojima dislikes yanagi and actively holds a grudge against him for hurting hiroaki.

ojima was in absolute awe when he heard hayashi killed her abuser, he wished he could be stronger and able to fight back too.

ojima has said many times that he would never kill, so being pushed to murder/or killing by accident would be tragic as hell. pure drama.

i thought about mai as a victim for a second, but i don't see how ojima, or anyone could make a drop on her, plus they have their solidarity thing going on.

yanagi's death would be devastating for mai. here he was, always worried about her safety, when she should have cared more about his all along?

ojima's been a victim his entire life. him dying as a victim would be fitting and devastating, but also...eh. eeeehhh. i guess if he killed by accident/unwittingly, it would also make him a victim of circumstance.

yanagi's self-sacrificial to a fault. if you live to be of service to others, could you say that you would never die for someone?

i'm not too certain about ojima killer, i don't know how it could be compelling AND well-written. woah, an abuse victim being a killer, so original. he can't kill while he's dissociating, that would be bad and stupid. he also wouldn't kill on purpose because he simply dislikes someone. what i feel is just... ojima killer would bring a different kind of devastation than ojima victim. he's a very kind and caring person, the idea of him going against who he is like that hurts so bad. there would be an undertone of betrayal there. like, et tu, ojima? especially if hiroaki carries the trial again, and as he's putting the pieces together, he realizes that he has doomed ojima to death. that, to me, would be an entirely different type of agony than the one of ojima getting murdered. not to say that hiroaki wouldn't also be completely incapacitated by ojima dying as a first thing.

also, i thought about a scene like, hiroaki thinks the 'but i wouldn't do it!' argument is always invalid and never lets it slide. so, it would be quite funny if someone accused ojima in the trial and hiroaki was like '??? uhhhh, are you stupid? ojima wouldn't do it, he can hardly tell his left from his right' and ojima's like haaahhh yeah. anyway, i'm putting a pin in it, i dunno. i'm still very fond of the idea that someone will try to kill hiroaki and they will get killed by ojima instead. (thanks bronze-ocs!)

however, yanagi is DEAD dead. deadady-dead-dead-dead. i'm certain. my man's just gone. he's been going above and beyond this chapter, stretching himself thin to support many people and keeping up morale. and so far he's the only one who sort-of kind-of believes in monomoko. or at least, that she might be imprisoned and coerced, just like them. i can't see how he could make it to chapter 5. for him, either scenario works. him being a killer, after all the good he's done for so many people, after he's been trying his hardest to redeem himself and make up for his mistakes? especially killing someone as beloved as ojima? oof. unforgivable. ESPECIALLY because of his knight's vow. he was supposed to protect others, that is what he lives for, and ending someone's life...honestly, now that i think about it, yanagi killer might just give himself up immediately out of pure guilt.

yanagi victim works for the same reasons, he's been trying so hard, struggling, growing, devoting himself to hayashi, wada, and tamba, and he gets killed for it. pure tragedy. it's just fucked. either way, i strongly feel that he's not going to survive.

briefly about some others:

mai: i feel like she might be a goner too, but i'm not sure. i don't see either ojima or yanagi killing her, or vice versa. wellllllllll... anything can happen if it's an accident.....?

tamba: maybe? either she's dying here, or she's a survivor. i just don't feel very strongly about the possibility of her dying.

hiroaki: as substitute for ojima. but i don't think he will, he had JUST tried to kill himself. plus, there's a hell of a lot more evidence for ojima dying rn than him. and my biggest reason...ojima's death would devastate him more than his would devastate ojima. but still, i'm not ruling it out completely.

watari's worrying me, but i think there's a big likelihood she'll survive. i saw the hama killer theories, it would be unexpected and tragic ig, but i dunno. ken and wada are surviving. and that's about it, for now, i'll see how it changes in the upcoming weeks.

[ropebunnykant]

i always headcanonned all fk characters as switches but now i realize we've only ever seen firsts character portrayed as top and khaotungs as bottom yknow with the famous thrusting in ofs and kantbison red room scene. even if they had different dynamic it wasn't explicitly portrayed why is that? i wish we could see a change in the bl industry

oh yeah, it's definitely a thing in the bl industry where they classify one as the top and one as the bottom with zero nuance or change from series to series, and i think that's part of why top/bottom discourse can get so aggressive in the bl fandom. it's almost always the bigger/taller/more "masc" guy that gets the top role and it pushes such a problematic notion about how gay couples "should" interact and it's deeply annoying! especially because people in fandom will then get so attached to these ideas and the way they act about it is like. straight up mean and gross. like why do you care so much that some people think that first's characters occasionally bottom? why is that such a big deal for you?

and in a way it does circle back to the issue with people insisting on bison being a sub despite the fact that he, canonically and explicitly, is a dom. again, people have these fucked up ideas about the way gay couples should be and because bison is smaller and cuter and more feminine and we have also seen him explicitly bottoming, he has to be the sub. which is just extremely reductive and just repackaged misogyny and homophobia! (which, i've actually been thinking since the pilot trailer about how the inherent misogyny that comes from those assumptions also kind of feeds into the way misogyny was replaced from taming to the heart killers and the way those dynamics manifest in the show. like there's something VERY interesting about the lucentio/bianca couple aka the more "traditional" couple having their typical "top" as the man of the couple and their typical "bottom" play the woman vs the katherine/petruchio having the "top" playing the woman! there's a commentary going on there, i think, but unfortunately i haven't gotten to really writing anything about that cause usually there's so much else going on in the show that i kind of forget about that aspect sdkjfsdf)

that all being said, i also don't think fk's characters are necessarily forced into those boxes because of the industry at large, if that makes sense? like i feel like they're one of the few branded pairs that aren't put into those roles just because first is taller/bigger/more masculine. because the thing is, with akkayan we never actually see them having sex on screen, so we can't actually know for sure the positions they use. and while we see it with kantbison and sandray, i also think context is important.

with sandray, i think ray is just meant to be a character that has his preferences, and on top of that he's spoiled and sand is always going to give him whatever he wants. those things are part of their characters even without getting into their sexual dynamics, and one thing about jojo is that sex in his shows are actually a lot deeper than people realize - so, it makes sense that with that dynamic in mind, sand would be more "the giver" and ray "the taker" when it comes to sex, so to speak. and then with kantbison, i again think it's meant to play at the fact that bison is the dom. i think bison in a lot of ways is MEANT to seem contradictory to that kind of idea, and i also think he kind of gets off on that idea. like, i was actually talking to may @deliriousblue about this earlier, but i think it's why we see bison bottom, why we see him lean into his cuteness, why we see him call kant daddy. he likes leaning into the idea of a traditional sub while actually being the one in control! it's like a power thing for him.

i also just think firstkhao have been very lucky in the fact that in all three of the series that they've been main couples for, they've worked with very progressive and very queer directors. i mean, golf, who directed the eclipse, is trans and an activist and i believe used to be a member of parliament before they were forced out, if i'm remembering that correctly? and then jojo directed both only friends and the heart killers and jojo has never been shy about making his characters as queer as possible beyond just the aspect of having sex with the same gender, yknow? he also has never been shy about making his characters switches, either, or having them talk openly about positions, so again, i don't really view fk as being necessarily stereotyped - more that jojo specifically is a director that will use those stereotypes and the way the industry perceives things to his advantage, if that makes sense. like i think about how he chose to use firstkhao and forcebook in only friends for sandray and topmew, and then had neomark, who were an unbranded pair, for the couple that didn't end up together. like people complained about it, but again, i think it was jojo using the way the industry is set up to his advantage while also challenging those norms in other aspects of the show.

this got like. aggressively long for no reason, but basically i do agree that there should be a change in the way the industry puts their branded pairs in boxes, but i honestly feel like fk are one of the few that aren't ACTUALLY in that box, if that makes sense sdkjfhskf

[xvxblahhhxvx]

I know I already made a post about this, but I wanted to expound on it a bit, because I'm still obsessed with the idea of Dazai being a bad person on the good side, and Chuuya being a good person on the bad side.

Because in essence, the fact that Dazai's in the Agency helping people is because he's selfish, and Chuuya stayed with the Mafia because he's selfless. Contrary to what a lot of people say, Dazai didn't leave the Mafia for Odasaku. He never promised him, never said "I'll do it for you," never did it because Odasaku wanted him to be good. He did it for himself. Odasaku tells him that he'll always be alone, something Dazai fears and knows deep down, and asks what he's supposed to do now. Odasaku then gives him advice, tells him that being on the side that saves people will make his world a bit brighter, and so Dazai agrees to leave the Mafia for himself. And once Dazai agreed to this, then Odasaku says "Man lives to save himself..." Further cementing the idea that Dazai is doing this for his sake and his sake alone. He wants his own life to be better, and if helping people will make it a bit brighter, then he's willing to try doing that.

Chuuya, however, would never leave the Port Mafia because he's the opposite. He cares more about other people than he does his own self. From youth, he became the leader of a child gang in order to protect them, because he felt he was fulfilling his duty as someone with power to protect those who took him in. And even after they betray him, Chuuya still joins the Mafia in order to protect them. To protect the kids who just stabbed him in the back because he would never betray those who did good to him. And the Mafia did that. They took him in, gave him a place to live, a job, a purpose, a family. He actively seeks to make connections with those around him, and once they have his loyalty, it never leaves. In Stormbringer, the detective wanted him to betray the Mafia, and he wouldn't do it, yet later, when the detective dies, Chuuya mourns his death and the loss of opportunity for him to leave the Mafia. It shows that he did, in fact, wish to leave, but he never would. Because why would he hurt those around him who've done good to him? It's very obvious that he's selfless and self-sacrificial, as seen in Fifteen, Stormbringer (where he gave up ever knowing if he was human in order to protect the city), and Dead Apple where he risked his own life to protect the city. The fact that he's still with the Port Mafia, still actively being a bad person, is because he never would and never could leave them, and would do anything to protect them, no matter how bad they'd treat him. Because he cares more about others than his own happiness.

And it's because of that their dynamic is the way it is now. Dazai's one of "the good guys" and Chuuya's one of "the bad guys," but the lines become much more blurred when they're together. Who's the better person in the dynamic? Someone who's doing bad for others or doing good for himself? Either way, both are morally gray characters who blur the lines of morality when they're together.

[princess-glassred]

Todays been awful so fuck it, IT fandom unpopular opinions! (And they're actually unpopular for once!).

-As much as I hate to say this, I think getting mad at people for not liking Mike Hanlon is shifting the blame from who's really at fault for this and that's Andi Muschietti. Yeah it sucks that Mike is always forgotten by this fandom but this fandom is dominated of fans of the movie and the movie and book are totally different. If some 13 year old has only seen the IT movies I don't blame them for not caring about Mike because he got dicked over by Andi's racial bias. And don't say "well they should watch the mini series or book to appreciate him then" as if being in a fandom is supposed to require homework. A lot of people only like IT 2017 and that's fine, and they're not less of a fan for that. It's okay to not like certain members of the losers, as long as your reasons are valid.

-I wish fanfiction would potray Sonia and Eddie's relationship (and honestly Sonia/Myra) with more depth. I am NOT saying Sonia isn't abusive, she absolutely is, but i have seen A LOT of ridiculous portrayals of Sonia and it bugs me. Even good fic writers often pigeon hole her relationship with Eddie to just being him secretly hating every thing about her with no complicated feelings at all. As someone who grew up in an abusive household, majority of abusive relationships aren't like that. That's why abusive relationships are so sinister in the first place, they're hard to get out of because you convince yourself you love your abuser. Most kids, especially heavily manipulated ones like Eddie, would struggle with feeling pure hatred for their mother. And that's interesting! I wanna see that portrayed in Eddie's character, especially since he struggles with his own identity and feelings about himself quite a lot already. If you cannot handle a portrayal of an abusive relationship being more than just two dimensional awfullness 24/7, i don't think you should be reading something as heavy as IT.

-Similarly, the way people talk about Sonia, Myra, and to a lesser extent Belch is really gross. IT actually condemns fatphobia in the narrative by having Henry attack ben, and i see people complain all the time about how ben lost wait as an adult but suddenly when it's Myra, Sonia and Belch you can fat shame to your hearts content. I have seen so many posts from people, either roleplay accounts or otherwise, calling these three fat bitches or hogs or even fanfics that deliberatly use Sonia's weight as short hand for her being terrible instesd of letting her actions speak for herself. Fat shaming isn't suddenly cool when it happens to someone you hate. Molly Ranson is a real person and that is her real body, there are probably people in this fandom who even LOOK like Sonia out there. This also applies to insulting the appearance of any other actor btw.

-I think Ben Hanscom in the it 2017 continuity is honestly kind of a creep. He kisses Bev while she's unconcious depsite not actually knowing if it'll pull her out of the deadlights (he didn't even have a reason to think it would work at all), he holds onto her yearbook signature in his wallet for 27 years even tho he literally forgot everything, spends most of IT chapter 2 coping and seething that Bev isn't attracted to him, and never says anything to defend her from Richie spreading slutty rumors about her. The only time he defends her from slut accusations is when its henry and shes there to see him do it. If Henry did any of this you guys would be all over him, but because it's Ben and they play sappy music over it it's suddenly cute and whimsical.

-I also think Richie gets away with a lot of shit that if it was done by any of the antagonists the fandom would rip 'em to shreds. People give me shit all the time for sympathizing with Henry Bowers becaude he's racist and mysoginistic but Richie says many mysoginistic and racist things across adaptations and nobody cares. Of course he spreads rumors about Bevs promiscuity, but in the book he does quite a few racist impressions and bits like when he says "You know the worst part about getting AIDS? Trying to explain to your mother that you got it from a Haitian girl.". Hell, at least Henry is 12, practically groomed into it, and so mushy brained from the pills he can't think straight, what's richies excuse? I don't even care that Richie is gay, does being in the closet justify anything? Did being attracted to Henry absolve Patrick of the fact he killed a baby? No? The same goes for Richie. Ofc you can still like him, but i don't like it when richie fans act like he's all pure and ignore his worse moments just to grand stand.

-It 2017 is actually just as ewwy towards minors as the book. Just because you removed a gang bang scene doesn't mean you aren't still weird with minors. Mr. Muschietti still thought it was appropriate to make a scene where young Bev is forced to flirt with a pedo pharmacist, another where she gets kissed unconscious, and one where her friends oggle her in a bra. Yeah it's cool you got rid of the sewer stuff but WHY ADD ALL OF THAT IN.

-The whole "omg what if the ritual was going to work but richie had to sacrifice eddie as his token instead and thats why it didnt work" is kinda dumb. it implies that the native americans who created the god damn artifact couldn't do the ritual right but these random white guys could all along. The movie straight up says the ritual has never worked and Mike saying he believed it would work because of their connection is treated like it's wrong. Maybe Eddie was Richies token but I don't think that's why they defeated IT and I also don't think it would have worked to begin with.

[bl-inded]

Faifa, bestie? Do you have to break my heart every week like this??? DO YOU??

I feel low-key crazy obsessing over every little thing that happens with Fai. But was it just me or did anyone else feel as hurt about their mom admitting she would have been happier taking Yotha than Faifa?? I know those weren't the intention of her words, and I certainly don't know how much was lost in translation. But to feel like you were always the second choice, and then to have it confirmed is fucking heartbreaking!

Before I get onto that bit of the rant though! I love how expertly Fai avoids talking about his own feelings.

It's a footnote to everyone else's feelings and trying to understand the situation. Which is mature and grown-up, but not at the cost of your own anger. And then he goes on to start defending his mom.

She heard Fai say this! She heard him say that her loving Faifa more was "definitely not the reason". Her justification was that she knew Faifa was the one who'd be most affected by being separated from his family?? Are you for real rn ma'am??

(I also hate the assumption that Yotha would not have missed his family? Like what??)

I know Fai is not the one in focus in this frame, but he looks sooo broken. Then he finds out she was planning to move without telling the kids-

And when she's doing her lil goodbye speech to each of them he refuses to even look her in the eye!!!

(I wish I could gif to show how much Junior manages to convey with his body language in this scene!! Dude was flexing his acting skills istg)

I've mentioned it before. But I think Faifa, despite being the youngest of the siblings, definitely has the energy of the oldest. And he's doing it again here. Unlike Yotha, I feel like he hasn't resolved anything with his mom. He's still a people pleaser so he'll make sure she is happy.

BUT WHAT ABOUT HIMMMMM??!!

I cannot wait for Faifa's story to start!! I have been ready for it for weeks, and I'm sooooo glad we're finally getting it. I think more than anything I want to see someone take care of Fai for a change. Someone actually see him be vulnerable and agree to share the pain. I want Wine to realize as Faifa is helping him through his heartbreak that there is so much hurt her carries behind the happy facade.

I want Faifa to let Wine see him!

[rdr2enjoyer]

Hi sweetheart! Was wondering if I could have some headcanons for how Arthur would look after you if you were sick/ how he’d comfort you if you were crying. Don’t worry if not, cancer’s been kicking my ass and I thought this could be a pick me up! All my love 🫶

Of course I can do this for you! Honestly, Arthur has a much more caring and nurturing nature than he gives himself credit for, and I believe he would do very well taking care of a sick loved one.

I'm sure you also get this all the time but, I'm so sorry you have to deal with this. I'm sure it must be exhausting in more ways then one. I wish you all the best, and I sincerely hope it turns around soon. Sending you so much love <3

How arthur would care for you if you were sick

I imagine Arthur would really struggle with feeling helpless when you're sick. He's not a doctor, not a miracle worker, and all he wants to do is take the suffering away from his sweetheart. He would try to hide it, of course. He doesn't want to put any more stress on you and the last thing he wants to do is make you worry about him, but it would just kill him that he couldn't take the sickness away.

Anything he can do, he would. When he's not by your side he's in the fields, forging for medicinal herbs to help with the pain, insomnia, and fatigue. every second away from you has him wracked with worry. He'd return as quickly as possible with a satchel full of different herbs - some he's not even sure what they do but hopes are helpful - and makes a tea for you.

Even if you didn't have much of an appetite he'd push you to eat and drink, telling you that you need to keep your strength up to fight this thing. If you're in such bad shape that you don't have the strength or will to feed yourself, he'd lift the cup and spoon to your lips himself, "That's it...doing good. Thank you, darlin'." He only hopes he has the capacity to be as gentle and patient as you need him to be.

When he's gone he puts only the people he trusts most to watch after you; that would be Grimshaw, Charles, or Sadie. But he's never gone for long; he can't handle the worry and anxiety he feels when he's away from you. What if you suddenly turn for the worst and he's not there? Waht if you wake up looking for him?

On the days where you're feeling a little stronger and want to try doing your chores again, Arthur would hover around you like an overprotective bird. You can tell how anxious he is as you struggle to rebuild your strength and stamina. Every groan of effort has him reaching out towards you, ready to catch you or whatever it is you're working to lift. Every time you assure him that you're okay, he'd deny even worrying. He doesn't want you to feel weak, but even more than that he doesn't want you to hurt yourself or tire yourself out.

He'd be a quiet listener as you confide in him how much your struggling. The exhaustion and pain in your voice would break his heart, but he would try not to show it externally. He wants to be strong for you, a rock. Words of comfort don't come easily to him, but he can quietly wrap his arms around you and hold you against him. His hands smooth down your hair and back as you cry into his shoulder, and he's grateful that he can at least do this for you.

[swagyalastorwife]

Vees + alastor + adam + lute as parents

Author notes :hiiiiii guyssss (^-^)/❤️I really enjoyed writing this I'm sorry if it's too short and if there are spelling mistakes I'm thinking of doing a part 2 with someone else so don't hesitate to give me some suggestions if you want something in particular , This comes from a request I put it at the end. ❤️

⚠️Warning⚠️ : drogue and sex mention in val's part ans that's it (^-^)

Vox📺

○ Your child will probably be the most spoiled child in all hell. he will have all the latest technologies from voxtech, all the toys he wants and of course as a child star, all hell will know him which will push vox to be a protective enough dad I think he imagines one day retiring and letting your child run the business so your child will get the best education possible. Vox will surely teach her how to manipulate people, and if your child is a girl she will be a "daddy's girl" kind of like Draco Malfoy in Harry Potter.

“My father will hear about it” or “I don’t think you know my father given the way you treat me” it's a very spoiled and capricious child like his dad but you should never doubt all the love that Vox has for your child, he loves you both and will be ready to die for you

In summary he wants the best for his child

7/10

Velvette💜

♧ Velvette she's not the type to have a child but if she had one I imagine her trying to pass on her passion for fashion to her child by taking him to fashion shows, helping him sew, making sketches.... her child will probably be a "bad bitch" like her mother elsewhere "I do what I want where I want and when I want" her child will probably become a great fashion designer

In summary she will be a very good mom

8/10

Valentino🦋

♡ Valentino Poor child, to be honest I don't wish anyone to live in an environment as unhealthy as the one in which Val's child will grow up, sex drugs and all that shit he will probably be an irresponsible father but at the same time he will be attentive and will try to do his best so that his child becomes someone as important as him and also "respected" in summary he is a bad father but i think he tried his best to become better

3.5/10

Alastor🦌

◇ He will be a loving and caring father he will do his best to make his child feel good and happy, if your child is a boy he will teach him to be a good gentleman just like him and if he has a daughter he will cherish her and protect her as best he can whatever happens, he loves his child more than anything and hopes that he will become as "powerful" as him In summary, he is a good father who wants the best for these children and will do everything for them.

9,5/10

Adam😇

♤ Even if he doesn't show it often, he loves his child more than anything in the world and will try to be the best father possible, even if he doesn't succeed all the time sometimes he can be very bad . He will teach him to fight and play the guitar and would definitely want his child to come to his rock concerts to see" how talented his father is "and how loved by everyone In summary he is a good father who tries to do his best but sometimes he makes mistakes

5/10

Lute🗡

● She would probably be a very severe mother who would like her child to become strong and powerful capable of "exterminating all demons", she could become mean but she will not do it for the injured but to help him give the best of himself, she loves her child more than anything in the world and she simply wants him to be able to fend for himself in summary she is a severe mother but who wants the best for her child

4/10

I hope you like it (^-^)/ ❤️❤️❤️❤️ and if you want specifics fanfiction ideas tell me !!!

[supercorpkid]

I Should Hate You

Supergirl. Baby Danvers Reader. Kara Danvers. Alex Danvers. Lena Luthor. Lex Luthor.

Word Count: 3260.

Notes: heavy on angst and PTSD trauma. Ending coming soon.

Being Alex and Kara’s little sister was never a bad thing. If anything, it made life easier. You had two built-in protectors, two people who made the world feel safer just by existing. No one would bother you at school, and your mom never had to worry about you.

That is, until Lex Luthor came into the picture.

Because now, he knows. He knows. Not just who Kara is, secret identity and all. But also what she cares about, who she loves, the lines she would cross to protect the ones important to her.

And now, you do too—more intimately than you ever wanted to.

Lex didn’t just figure out Supergirl’s identity; he figured out yours. He knows your face, your name, the exact pitch of your voice when you’re begging not to die. He knows how easy it is to take you, how powerless you are against men like him. And worst of all, he knows something you can’t unlearn either—just how breakable you are, how easy it is to snap your psyche like a twig.

And that’s the difference, isn’t it? Alex has her training, her weapons, and alien tech to help. Kara has more than a dozen powers to choose from. And you? You have nothing. No armor, no defenses, nothing to stop someone like him from reaching out and plucking you off the street whenever he wants. And now that he’s done it once, what’s stopping him from doing it again?

Nothing.

And that terrifies you.

Kara keeps saying you were never really in danger. That she never would have let him hurt you. That she had it under control. But control means nothing when you remember the way the cold air clung to your skin in that cell, how every second stretched into eternity as you waited, helpless, for whatever came next. It doesn’t erase the way your body locked up when you heard footsteps approaching, the way your breath came too fast, too shallow, because you knew—you knew—you were just a means to an end. Not a person. Just a way to get to her.

And now? Now the nightmares won’t stop.

You dream of steel cuffs biting into your wrists, of walls pressing in too tight, of guns’ barrels freezing up the back of your neck, of Lex’s voice curling around your name like he owns it. And it’s not just when you sleep. Sometimes you’re in the middle of a conversation, or walking down the street, or trying to be normal again—only for your brain to snap back, to drag you under, to make you feel like you’re still there.

But the worst part isn’t the fear. It isn’t even the exhaustion of pretending you’re fine.

It’s the anger.

It sits heavy in your chest, impossible to shake. Because if Kara weren’t Supergirl, none of this would have happened. If she were just your sister—just Kara—Lex would have no reason to know your name. No reason to take you. No reason to remind you just how small you are.

Of course, you’d never say that out loud. How do you tell Supergirl that you wish, just for a second, she wasn’t the mighty powerful being she has no choice but to be?

And then there’s Lena.

You know it’s not fair. You know it. She’s not her brother. She’s not responsible for what he’s done, for what he knows, for the way your hands still tremble when you reach for a glass of water. She didn’t take you. She didn’t look you in the eye and smirk like you were already broken.

But she still has his name.

And maybe that shouldn’t matter, but right now, it does. Because every time you see her, every time she so much as says your name in that soft, careful way she does, it’s his voice you hear in the back of your mind. It’s his face you remember. It’s the shadow of him curling around her, reminding you that if you were just a little more like Alex, a little more like Kara, if you weren’t so easy to take, maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all.

And so, you flinch at the sight of her. Not obviously, but enough that she notices; that her brow furrows just slightly when you pull your hand back too quickly, when you shift a little farther away. And she doesn’t say anything, of course. She just watches.

And that might be the worst part. Because you can feel the questions in her silence, the ‘I didn’t do anything’ just barely biting back at her tongue. And she’s right. She didn’t. But her last name did.

And right now, you are having a really hard time separating the two.

It starts small. You tell yourself it’s just one more day of staying home. Just one more day where you don’t have to face the world, where you don’t have to pretend that everything’s normal. But after a while, ‘just one more day’ turns into a week. Then two.

The hardest part is how everything starts to feel too much. The thought of walking out that door, of seeing people, of hearing sirens in the distance or feeling the weight of a stranger’s gaze—it’s all so loud, so sharp, it’s like the world has become a minefield. One wrong step and it’ll all come crashing down again.

You quit work. You stop answering texts. You skip class, then tell yourself you’ll catch up later, but you never do. You become a shadow, existing only within the walls of your apartment, where it feels safe, even if it’s not.

It’s strange. You’ve always been independent, always handled things on your own, but this? This is different. This is too much.

You don’t even realize how bad it’s gotten until you hear your own voice on the phone with Eliza. You’ve called her every day for the past two weeks, something you’ve never done before. Which triggers her 'mom intuition’ for sure. She keeps asking if you need anything, if you’re okay. And you lie every time. But she knows you too well. She can hear it in your voice, feel the cracks forming beneath the surface. Your mom knows you're just the ghost of her daughter.

The silence in the apartment is thick, suffocating, and you’ve been letting it surround you for days. The TV hums softly, but you’re not really watching—your mind is too far gone, trapped in its own spiraling thoughts.

Then, the door creaks.

The sound slices through the quiet, jarring and sharp like a knife. You stiffen, your heart leaping into your throat, and before you can even register who it is, you spring to your feet. It’s a knee-jerk reaction—instinct, the kind you don’t even question. Your breath catches in your chest, and for a split second, you're frozen. Every nerve on edge, every muscle tense, as if the world is suddenly closing in.

When you finally focus, your eyes meet Alex’s. She’s standing there, the same steady presence you’ve always known, face full of concern.

“Whoa, hey, hey—” Alex starts, but you can’t stop the tremor in your hands, the pulse hammering in your chest like it’s trying to tear you apart.

You’re already backing away, your mind screaming at you to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the door. You barely register her words as they blur together, and all you can think about is getting away from the noise, the danger.

“Y/N, it’s just me. Alex.” She raises her hands up, defensively. "Just your big sister, checking in on you.” Her voice cuts through the spiral, sharp and grounding. 

You drag in a few shallow breaths, struggling to steady your mind, telling yourself that it’s okay, you're safe for now.

“Shit, Alex! Just knock next time. I don’t fucking have x-ray vision.”

Alex's brow furrows at your choice of words. She scans your messy apartment quickly, but it’s you she turns back to, her gaze sharp and focused on your face.

“You okay? You look like you haven’t slept or left the house in days.”

Sleeping isn’t the problem. In fact, you’ve been falling asleep easily enough. It’s staying asleep that’s the issue, with nightmares clawing at you every time you drift too far into sleep.

“I’m fine,” you say, a little too quickly. You know she’s overanalyzing every little movement, every tiny shift, so you need this conversation to be over fast. “Why are you here?”

Alex tosses her keys onto the kitchen table, then takes a cautious step forward. “You’ve stopped answering everyone’s texts, and you’ve been calling mom every day.”

“Oh, so I can’t call my own mother now?”

“You can…” she says softly, but there’s a quiet concern in her voice. “But you usually don’t do that every single day. She’s a little worried.”

“Gotcha. I’ll only call her every other month,” you exhale, annoyed, as you move back toward the couch. Alex lets out a frustrated sigh and follows, stepping closer.

“I thought I’d find you at work, but your boss said you quit.”

“Sorry if I don’t want to work in a coffee shop forever. I’ve got savings. I’ll find a better job in time.”

Alex doesn’t respond right away, but you can feel her eyes on you—heavy, searching. Doing what she does best, investigating. She takes another step closer. 

“Y/N, this isn’t about work or mom,” Alex says after a beat. There’s a hint of frustration in her tone, but it’s not aimed at you. It’s at the situation. “You just went through something traumatic, and now you’re hiding away in your corner of the world. Do you honestly think we’re all that stupid, that we don’t see what’s going on?”

You’re pretty sure she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be completely helpless and hopeless, at the mercy of someone like Lex. Doesn’t know the rage you feel at your own sister for allowing it to happen. Doesn’t have the faintest idea of how every bit of your once-best-friend now reminds you of the worst thing that ever happened to you.

“God, I hate when you do that. I hate when you walk in here all high and mighty.” You roll your eyes, every word coming out so bitter it makes yourself flinch. “You can either believe me when I say I’m fine, or don’t. I don’t care. But don’t just barge in here like you know better than me what I’m feeling, okay?”

Alex’s face tightens, but she doesn’t back off—she never does. Her eyes flicker between you and the apartment, as if she’s trying to read something deeper, something unsaid.

“Peaches,” She starts again, her voice quieter, and the use of the nickname shows just how well she knows how to handle you, to break through the walls you've put up. “I don’t mean to treat you like a kid, but this isn’t you. This… this isn’t how you’ve ever been. And I’m worried, okay?” Her voice wavers slightly, and though the frustration is still there, it’s now mixed with something softer, something that aches. “We all are.”

But you? You’re just getting more frustrated by the second. “Okay, fine. What can I do to make this conversation end and get you to leave me alone?”

Alex considers for a moment, just long enough to make you antsy, before she says, her voice surprisingly calm:

“Movie night.”

“Movie night?” You repeat, incredulous. You can’t help it—you feel a little ridiculous, but if going to a movie night is what it takes to get Alex off your back, you’ll do it. “That’s it? That’s the deal?”

You make sure, because nothing with your sisters is ever as simple as it seems. And this feels oddly easy.

“Yep. Come to movie night tomorrow, and I’ll see how ‘fine’ you are. Then you’re off the hook. I’ll even call mom and tell her not to worry about you…”

“And you’ll leave me alone too?”

“100%.”

“Okay, then. Deal.” You exhale, giving in with a resigned sigh. “See you tomorrow at movie night.”

You can’t believe you agreed to this. Sure, at the time it sounded like the only possible solution. You had to get Alex out of your apartment before she started sniffing the old pizza slices and your fears. She's too good at both. But now, as you stand in front of Kara's door, you can’t believe this is actually happening. You’re about to show up here and pretend that everything is fine for at least the duration of a whole movie. How on Earth are you going to pull this off?

The soft thrum of your pulse beats in your ears, drowning out the world for a moment. You stare at the door, heart twisting in that familiar, anxious knot. If you just turn around now, slip away into the night, you could avoid all of this. Avoid them. 

If you could just… 

The door creaks open, Kara is standing there in her usual flannel and sweatpants, looking as if she just stepped out of a pile of laundry. Her smile is wide, brimming with that annoyingly kind energy—the kind that could melt the hardest of hearts. And that’s exactly what makes this so damn complicated.

“You made it!” she says, her voice ringing as if everything is fine and normal and not at all like you’re about to implode just by standing here in front of her.

You cross your arms over your chest, already feeling a little defensive. “Yeah, well, I’m here, aren’t I?” You try to sound nonchalant, but your voice cracks at the end, betraying the nervousness roiling beneath the surface.

Alex steps into view behind Kara, arms crossed, like she’s been watching you since the second you knocked. She raises a brow, her gaze narrowing slightly, scanning you for any cracks. And, of course, she’s the first to speak up, because she always has to poke the damn bear.

“You good?” she asks, her tone a little too honest. Too knowing.

You force a tight smile. “Fabulous.”

Kara nods, stepping aside to let you in, that ever-present sweetness in her eyes, too soft for you to handle at the moment. There’s something about the way Kara moves—so gentle and eager—reaching out for the simplest of hugs, that makes you hurry inside to avoid her touch.

As you look around, Lena’s there, curled up on the couch, her presence like a quiet storm you didn't see coming. Her hair falls loosely around her face, and her expression is so open, so raw—a clear vision of innocence. So tender it nearly hurts. And, for a moment, you forget about the weight of the world. You almost forget who she is. Almost.

She is a Luthor. Her brother probably has eyes on her at all times. He's probably watching right now, already plotting how to take you all down in one strike. Hell, every second near Supergirl and Lena Luthor is another second closer to a cell, to having a gun pointed to your head.

"I thought we'd go with something light, so I picked a comedy. What do you think?" Kara says, grinning like she’s been waiting all day for this. And knowing your sister, she probably was.

You nod, trying to fight back the sense of danger creeping in. Everything is fine. You just have to pretend. Pretend that nothing matters but this movie. Pretend that Lena isn't sitting across from you, that Supergirl isn't here in her pajamas offering you a big bowl of popcorn.

You take a seat on the far side of the couch, keeping a careful distance from Lena, as if the space will somehow protect you from whatever may happen if her brother shows up. She doesn’t say anything, just watches you from thick eyelashes and green-eyed gaze, and it takes everything you have not to crumble under it.

Kara is already settling in, practically buzzing next to you. Her hands moving to adjust the throw pillows like this is the most normal, casual thing in the world. 

“I’m so glad you could make it! I missed you so much these past few weeks, Peaches.” Kara says, her voice soft and warm, like she’s trying to make this feel safe. Like she doesn’t notice the way you’re pulling inward, trying not to let your breath shake.

You force a smile, something that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, well, I did make a promise.”

The movie starts, but you can’t concentrate. You should be watching, should be laughing like Kara and Alex are, but every sound seems too loud, too sharp. Your pulse drums in your ears, and the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall is like a countdown. 104 minutes of this. Come on, you can do it.

But then—then the first gunshot in the movie rings out.

It’s too real. Too close to home.

Your chest seizes, and for a split second, everything blurs. The room disappears, the movie fades, and you’re back in that cold, dark place. The silence presses in around you, thick, suffocating. The same kind of silence that used to follow every threat. Every decision he made. The sound of your own breath in that small, damp space, the taste of metal on your tongue.

Your hand tightens on the edge of the couch, nails digging into the fabric, the tension pulling you taut. Your breath comes in short bursts, like it’s too much to take in. The sound of the movie becomes a distant echo, muted, fading out as the walls of that cell close in on you.

You don’t hear Kara's voice calling your name. You don’t see Alex’s concerned expression. All you hear is your pulse ringing in your ears; all you see is the shadow of Lex, looming over you, wrapping around you.

And then you feel it—a soft hand, barely brushing your arm, and it shouldn’t feel like this, not like fear. But it does. So you jerk back, hard, your breath catching after a shriek leaves your mouth unbidden. It’s an instinct. A reflex. A warning.

The room goes completely still.

All eyes are on you.

Kara’s face is filled with panic, her lips parted like she’s about to say something but doesn’t know what. Alex’s jaw tightens, her eyes scanning you like she’s trying to figure out how to make it better. But it’s Lena—Lena who doesn’t move. Lena who just watches, her hand still hovering in the air like it’s caught between reaching for you again or pulling back.

You can’t breathe. Your chest is tight, too tight, like the walls are closing in again. And Lena’s eyes—those quiet, searching eyes—are burning into you, and you can’t look at her. Not now. Not with everything you’re carrying.

“Are you okay?” Kara’s voice is soft now, gentle, like she’s scared of shattering something fragile.

You don’t trust anything, anyone. You don’t even trust your own voice at the moment. 

“I just... need some air,” you manage, barely louder than a whisper.

You don’t look at any of them as you stand, pushing the blanket off your lap and stumbling toward the door. You need to get out. You need to breathe. You've been holding your breath ever since you walked in this room.

You need to go. Where? Anywhere! Home! No—Midvale! Farther! Just go. Keep going. Somewhere Lex can’t find you. Your sisters won’t find you. No one. No one shall find you.

[bellamoooon]

Childhood best friends to lovers, i love this concept a little too much and got carried away lol <33

She’d never know, at least that’s what he convinced himself of.

She’d never know that she was like a breath of fresh air after drowning for hours, that she was like the first bit of light rising up in the morning, that she was like the feeling of warmth when getting praised, that talking to her was like hearing his favorite song for the first time again, that her laugh was engraved in his brain and he could hear it even when she wasn’t around, that her presence radiated light that seeped right into his bones, that seeing her was like a shot of espresso immediately waking every nerve in his system, that her smile gleamed with such brightness it could light up the whole world in an eternal darkness, that her eyes said so much more than anything she had ever said, that she was a perfectly aligned harmony when everything else was out of tune.

She’d never know, but he did.

She lived within him; His whole life had been reduced to her.

“Wow Art, this is really good!” his literature teacher spoke as she read his paper, “y’know, if the whole tennis thing doesn’t work out, you could be the next big writer, I mean it.”

For his literature class, as a “creative exploration exercise”—his teacher calls it—they had been assigned to write a paper on someone of something which they could understand as unrequited love, of course he had chosen you, because what better example than you and Art.

You and Art have known each other since diapers due to your parents being best friends from their college days up to the present day, which sort of brought the two of you together one way or another, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, and neither would art.

Growing you with you might’ve been one of the best things he has ever been able to experience, he wishes people could actually get to feel what its like to be shined on by your light, for him, it truly is unearthly every time.

Sure, you two had distance shoved in your faces when he went to MRTA, but when he returned home for breaks, it was like nothing changed, it was just you and Art.

And of course as cliché as it may be, the inevitable happened, Art began to fall in love with you.

At first, he tried to convince himself that it was just the affection he had for his best friend, but he had no way to deny it. From the second he stopped just seeing you, but when he started seeing you.

He could try to blame it on his hormones and being a teenager, but everything else contradicted that.

In the summer, seeing you in your two-piece swimsuit didn’t seem the same, especially since you had started to grow into your big girl body, as his nana said.

At Christmas when he saw you walk into the living room dressed as Cindy Lou who from shoes to hair, with a goofy smile, but why did it make him blush? You seemed the same, you did this every year.

Patrick mocked him for having a small picture of the two of you in his wallet, but he didn’t care, whenever he was having a bad day, or missed home, he’d look at the picture, instantly erasing anything that disturbed his thoughts.

But you’d never know that. And he was okay with that. For the most part.

A couple of weeks he went back home for spring break, he was feeing at ease, he’d see his parents, his nana, and…you.

“Artie! My sweet boy!” his grandmother called out as he walked out of the car to the front porch with a suitcase in his hand, and a wide smile. His grandmother ran up to him wrapping her arms around him, her warmth immediately transferring to his skin, he was home.

“Nana, hey, how’ve you been?” he spoke with a sweet tone as he hugged her back. Sure, tennis was his whole life, but coming back home felt like a weight was lifted off his back, he doesn’t have to be THE Art Donaldson, he was just…Art.

“You look so tired baby boy, let me take your bags, go take a shower” his nana said as she shut the door behind her.

“Nana, seriously don’t worry—“

“Will you just let me take care of you while you’re here? You’ve gotta do all this yourself at school, but not here Artie” and well, there isn’t much arguing with nana Donaldson, it’s just how it’s been his whole life.

After his shower, Art walked in his room with a calm breath and loose muscles, how he needed that warm shower, as he walked over to his bag, which was placed next to the window he began to look for some clothes.

He wasn’t one to feel prying eyes on him but by reflex, Art lifted his head as he looked through the window, it was you.

You covered your mouth clearly giggling as he looked down at himself completely naked only covered by a towel wrapped around his waist, “fuck me” he muttered as he looked up once again but now face completely flushed and the tips of his ears burning red.

He waved awkwardly as he pulled the curtains closed feeling flustered, he wanted to get his mind off of her, so he said, how’s that going? Not great.

His nana looked up as he came downstairs with a puzzled expression, your name left his lips.

“What about her?” She asked as she left a plated grilled cheese in front of him.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was home for the break?” She laughed, why is she laughing?

“Sweetie, I thought it was obvious, she always come back home for breaks” she shook her head as she smiled playfully, “though, I think there’s something about her being here that bothers you”

“What— no, no, it doesn’t bother me, I just— would’ve expected something else, I don’t know”

“You sure?” She slid the paper across the counter with delicacy, “are you absolutely sure baby?”

“Nana! I told you to stop snooping, come on!” He said taking the paper as quickly as possible, could this day get any worse?

“One, I wasn’t snooping, it fell out of your backpack, and two, Artie, you know you can tell me anything, right?” He lowered his head ever so slightly as he grabbed the sandwich to then take a bite.

“I know.” He said once he swallowed, she leaned against the counter with curious eyes.

“She’s good, she’s smart, and really talented, did you hear she put out a song?” He lifted his brows in surprise, you really had picked music, over psychology, huh…

“Huh…well that’s great, I’m sure she’ll do great with all that” his nana scoffed as she muttered a small “art…” with a warning tone, “what? I mean it”

“You gotta give me more than that after that thing you wrote, Art, I taught you better than this.”

“I just—! I don’t know what to say, Nana, that’s the problem. Not to you, not to Patrick and most definitely not to her” he spilled, fiddling nervously with his hands, “I’d screw our friendship, one sided feelings aren’t worth risking years of trust.”

“Well you never know Artie, sometimes holding onto those feelings is painful, even if something is on the line, it isn’t worth it if you’re hurting” she was right, but Art would never say that out loud, this was all too much for him.

“It’s just…it’s not easy”

“Well my boy, no one said love was easy, and sometimes, just sometimes, the most complicated loves, are the most beautiful ones” he listened intently as he finished off the grilled cheese, she was right, maybe all he needed to do was tell her.

You had to know.

So there he was at 2:34 a.m throwing small pebbles at your window, just like he did years ago to then go the skate park at midnight and sit at the top of the ramps while you talked till sunrise.

“Stop throwing rocks Donaldson, you’ll wake the dog” you came out the door in pjs but wrapped in a jacket, he turned with a confused expression “I came running down when I felt the first two rocks” you laughed softly as you blushed slightly, God you missed this.

It’s like being kids all over again.

“So how’s tennis and all, Mr. Stanford?” You asked as you swung your hanging feet off the ramp.

“Y’know tennis is the same always, trust me, you don’t care” he laughed as he shook his head, “but Stanford is nice, just not the same without you and Patrick on my ass all the time”

“Ah, of course, because that’s the biggest change you’ve had since we were kids up to today” you rolled your eyes as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah…” he chuckled dryly as he looked away, could he be more obvious, goddamn.

“What?”

“No— no, it’s nothing” he insisted.

“Art I know you, it’s not nothing, what’s up?” You pushed as he looked up at the sky biting his lip while humming, “Art?”

“Hm?” He turned to look at you again, you lifted a brow silently asking once again, “ah…I— I love you” he blurted out unable to stop himself.

You opened your mouth but nothing came out.

“I have since the summer you turned fifteen, you just— you kinda started to seem different to me, and I— I fell in love with you.” He sighed, “and I know timing sucks and it’s gonna make things weird, but if I didn’t tell you, it would eat me alive, y’know it’s been so long—“ his rambling got cut off as your lips crashed onto his almost immediately.

His body tensed up completely, the feeling of your lips foreign to his, but so familiar at the same time, the reality was better than any dream he had ever managed to build up in his mind, your plump lips tasting faintly like cherry lip gloss, he was most likely dreaming, he thought, cause there is no way he had told you how he felt, and even less probabilities of him kissing you.

As you pulled away, he found himself instinctively following you with parted lips and eyes shut, he was so high with your mere presence, a soft giggle from you snapped him back to reality as his eyes opened up slowly, pupils blown, he looked as if he had just seen God.

“…Did you just—“

“Kiss you?” You ask slightly tilting your head with a giddy smile, “seems like it”

You shrugged as you snorted softly.

“Oh.” Oh was the only thing his brain could process for him to say still stunned.

“Okay— so you tell me you love me, but I kiss you and all you say is ‘oh’, I mean—“ you said as you licked your lips as you thought.

“I just— I didn’t think you’d— like…you…like…” he fumbled as he tried to pull a thought out of the back of his brain.

“Art, you’re telling me you didn’t expect me to kiss you, when I’ve literally had this…I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, and I’ve been as subtle as a marching band” you tell him as a blush creeps up your face while you chuckle nervously.

“You’re kidding, right?” You shake your head with a small grin, he scoffs as he covers his face with his hands, “am I just that dense?”

“Not dense, more like…oblivious” you laugh as he glares back playfully.

Then there’s beat of silence, that moment where suddenly everything had fallen into place, he’s been pining over you for years, and you’ve waited for the right moment for as long as you can remember, but then the question settles in, what now?

“Uhm…art…?” You turn to him with hesitation, he hums in response “what now? I mean, you’re going back to cali after break and I’m going back to New York…”

“Hm…I hadn’t really thought that far into it” he said softly turning to look at you with gentle eyes, “what now?” He asks back softly.

“I— I like you, Art, I’m in it for the long game.” You spoke honestly as you fiddled with your fingers.

“I’ll play the long game. You’re out there, I’m out there too, we’ll see each other in summer, thanksgiving, and Christmas…I mean it, I— don’t just like you.” He confessed as he chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously.

“I can do that” you said softly, smiling back at him, letting out a small breath, “long game…?”

Your hand cupped his cheek making him face you, he smiled as he nodded, looking down at your lips and back at your eyes “long game.” He muttered as he leaned in kissing you once again, holding you gently in a fear of breaking you.

That right there. That was it, you were the living proof of unrequited love for him.