#god i wish i'd found this years ago

[limerence-17]

take her home

masterlist

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

warnings: 18+ mdni blowjob, fingering, mutual masturbation, drinking (underage presumably), vulgar language, intoxication (reader is, rafe is sober no drunk driving here friends!!), angsty very angsty, reader is drunk and annoying but then again rafe is also annoying in this

synopsis: you're a family friend of the cameron's and sarah's childhood best friend. after one night taking it too hard at rafe's party, sarah's asks rafe to drive you home...

word count: 2.1k

A/N: all characters are 18+ here. also my photos for some reason are uploading weird so sorry for the collage thats not in HD rip. lowercase intended.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

you weren't going to drink, that wasn't even your original plan but between sarah's strange mixed drinks (vodka crans were her usual) and your recent break up with your boyfriend you were a lot more drunk than you'd expected to be.

rafe threw parties every once in a while in the obx and seeing how he was two years older than you, it was fun for sarah and yourself to join them every once in a while.

"there's gonna be at least one hot guy there to get your mind off of lucas," sarah told you as you both were getting ready. lucas was your boyfriend, ex boyfriend now. ever since he cheated on you a week ago with some girl from the cut.

that night, you had a few drinks and ended up swimming in the cameron's pool. once you got out of the pool, you found yourself gravitating to some guy who rafe supposedly knew. he was tall, brown hair, kind eyes. you'd touch his chest every time he said something remotely funny.

you let out a loud belly laugh, playing with your half dried hair from the pool. you were only wearing a pink bikini top with your shorts. now that you thought about it you remembered leaving your bikini bottoms in the upstairs washroom. so technically you were going commando? it didn't matter anyway, you'd find them eventually.

sarah was standing across the pool, closer to the back porch. she could hear a few of rafe's friends speaking about you. but as she listened closely, they were nasty comments.

"yo who knew that friend of the cameron's had tits like that, i'd fucking grab them any day..."

sarah was about to run over and intervene when rafe suddenly stumbled out the back door, laughing with some buddies. he reached for whatever drugs he had in his pocket before sarah went up and smacked his hand. he whipped his head around, eyeing her viciously.

"you have a death wish or something tonight sarah?"

sarah grabbed rafe by his cheeks, smushing them in her hands as she turned his head so that he was now paying attention to you and the boy. she figured he would’ve understood just how serious this was, but clearly rafe was not having it that night.

rafe removed sarah's hand from his cheeks, rather annoyed now.

"so your annoying ass friend is flirting with nate? so what?" rafe said, reaching down into his pocket once again.

"our friend is gonna regret this by morning if we don't stop it at some point. these assholes you know are talking about her behind her back like she's some piece of ass. rafe can you please take her home?" sarah said, pleading with her eyes wide.

rafe glared down at sarah. he rubbed his hands against his eyes, groaning.

"are you fucking kidding me right now? i mean this is my party-"

sarah's eyes widened more and her eyebrows creased. she was making the same puppy eyes she would make when they were kids.

"she's our family friend rafe, and if anything happens to her you know dad will hold you responsible! not just for this shit party, but for her! plus don’t you remember-“

rafe cut her off.

"fine! fine... jesus i'll take her home, but you owe me for this one sarah i swear to god-"

"yeah yeah i know, beers on me for a month…” sarah said mockingly.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

"i'll be back in a sec baby, just gonna go to the washroom," nate said as he walked away from you. you couldn’t help but smile as his hand grazed your back as he stepped away. you took another sip from your drink

seconds later, you felt a cold hard hand grip at your upper arm. you whipped your head to the right, only to see rafe standing beside you, looking more serious than usual.

"no fucking way rafe cameron is here..." you groan out, swinging your hands. rafe rolls his eyes.

"i'm taking you home." rafe commands you swing around once more, this time facing all the party goers.

"rafe cameron everybody!! you yelled, grabbing the attention of everybody outside. “let’s all give me a round of applause for throwing this wild wild party!” the sounds of whoops, and cups being raised into the air followed.

rafe grabbed your arm harder now, sighing from frustration.

"you're drunk. and i'm taking you home…now."

you stumbled backwards over your feet, as he dragged you back through the side backyard door. you were laughing, still a little out of it until you were near the car.

"woah, you're not seriously taking me home right? the night's only started,” you say, snorting a bit as you laughed.

"i'm not doing this for you, i'm doing this cause if i don't i'll get in shit. so just be obedient for once and get in the damn car," rafe said demandingly, opening the passenger door and guiding his hand across your back so that you could sit in the car.

"so pushy dad... you're so totally acting like my dad right now," you said, putting your feet up on the dash and clicking the buttons in the car as he sat in the driver's seat. you playfully keep touching things in the car.

"jesus… don't call me that," rafe said, rubbing his temple as he turned on the ignition.

"fine..." you wave your hands up in the air like you've been caught red handed. you cover your mouth because the second the thought crosses your mind you already want to laugh, but you haven't even said it.

"my bad...daddy..."

rafe freezes, his hands gripping the steering wheel. he’d only just started to back out of the driveway and he flips his head over to face you.

"what? don’t call me that shit-“ he says.

rafe grabs your leg, motioning it downward.

"and get your feet off my dash."

you start pushing at random buttons. of course rafe cameron drives a tesla.

"beep boop, boop..." you say jokingly as you open the window now putting your hand out.

"it's a spaceship in here," you say. you've only gotten about two blocks down. rafe is ignoring your comments, focusing on the road.

"this car is so much better than my exes anyway... i totally hated that guy i mean what was i thinking?"

this has seemed to have gotten rafe's attention as he glances over at you now.

"what do you mean?"

"i meannnnnnn he was a cheater and a liar and totally wasn't even that cute," you say, swinging your hands around.

"i mean wouldn't it make sense to want to sleep with someone who is attractive? lucas was really not even attractive, i mean his nose was like so small, like a little rabbit or something," you groan on. to your surprise, or maybe shock, rafe laughs at this. a genuine laugh.

you could almost sober up from that alone because it's something you haven't really heard since you were kids.

"i think it would make more sense to sleep with someone like you y'know," you say.

oh there you go. you've done it now. no taking that back anymore.

rafe glances over at you quickly, as if he's debating pulling over or something.

"me? what-what are you talking about?"

you shrink slowly into the seat, now embarrassed that you ever said that. you can almost feel yourself head and limbs sinking into the seat.

"are you-you saying you'd wanna sleep with me?"

you glance over, and for some reason your eyes glance over to his pants, and you can't help but notice the bulge that's forming. holy shit did i do that? you think to yourself.

"i mean… i'm not blind rafe, i'm just drunk."

rafe scoffs, switching his glance frequently between you and the road.

"you're serious though, you're not bullshitting me? you like- would actually sleep with me?" rafe says again, as if he can't believe it. he's speeding a little bit more now and you can't help but wonder if it's because you've distracted him.

"i... would yes," you say, nodding slowly, although you're too nervous and humiliated now to make eye contact with him. not too mention, you're still in your bikini top and now widely aware of that.

"jesus i mean... is this your way of asking cause i'm kinda sitting here getting turned on one way or another," rafe scoffs. he's so arrogant, you think to yourself. arrogant, but stupid hot. you glance over, looking back at his pants, he notices your eyes widen at the sight.

"besides, its kinda hot, knowing that sarah or our parents could never find out i mean... it's the secretive part of it that's so... well and your tits too i mean they look fucking magical tonight..." rafe says.

he turns to you, meeting your gaze, looks back at the road and then grabs your hand and gradually brings it to his crotch.

"i mean feel how hard i am, and that is all your doing princess," he says.

you grip at his cock, feeling it harden in his shorts. he's harder than you could have imagined.

"you can take it out if you'd like," he says, reaching for the zipper. the way he's unzipping his shorts while still keeping his eyes on the road is now starting to turn you on. there's heat pooling in your shorts and you're now viciously aware of the fact that you're not wearing any bikini bottoms. if you get any more wet it's game over.

you pull out his cock slowly from his boxers, and your shocked to see the pre cum already soaking out from his tip. he's hard, and you know it's your doing. rafe glances down for a moment, and then you feel his hand against the back of your head.

"you can suck it too," he says grunting.

"but-rafe you're driving what if someone sees-"

"who gives a shit let them see your pretty face sucking me off."

and with that you lick the tip, hearing him let out a slow moan. you just know he's trying not to lay his head backwards in pleasure just based on the noises he's making. you twist your right hand around his cock, moving it up and around and down. your tongue swirls around the tip until you start bobbing your mouth. after about three minutes he pulls you back up. you wipe your mouth and look over at him.

"what? what's wrong?"

"nothing- i was just gonna cum from that is all. plus i wanna feel you anyway-" he says. your eyes widen.

"me?"

"yeah," rafe replies. "unbutton those shorts why don't you so i can feel your pussy."

the way he says that, the rasp in his voice has you already unbuttoning your shorts. you're not sure how he's gonna do this, considering he's driving, until you come up to train tracks and the lights have gone off.

hm nice timing, you think to yourself.

as the train whooses by, you turn over to meet eye contact with rafe and he looks hungry. really... hungry. you both practically smash into each other, your lips colliding with each other. he's biting your bottom lip and sticking his tongue into your mouth and your letting out moans. if this was wrong, how could it feel this good.

"wanna... touch your pussy..." he moans out between kisses and so you pull away.

you pull down your shorts instinctively, forgetting you're not wearing anything underneath. great, i'm half naked in rafe cameron's car ,you think to yourself.

rafe's eyes go wide as he glances over at your body, your agonizingly wet pussy on the car seat.

"fuck me can't believe you've been hiding all that underneath those shorts," rafe grunts as he reaches over to feel you. his middle finger slides up your slit painfully slow. you grab your seatbelt as you lean back.

"holy shit you're so wet, all for me i fucking love that shit," rafe says. he uses his middle finger and ring finger to slowly start tracing circles around your clit, gradually upping the pace. you start grinding against his fingers. this train was taking forever.

"wait...wait...." rafe says pulling away causing you to groan.

"i know baby but... just touch yourself. i wanna see you make yourself cum." he says, now pulling out his dick once again.

you feel a little embarrassed but you're also so turned on so you oblige, slowly tracing circles around your clit. you can't help but watch as his jerks himself off, his eyes hungry staring down at you. it's like he's memorizing your every moment. you stick in one finger, than two, fingering yourself hard now. you rotate between that and rubbing circles against your clit until you feel your build up coming up. it only takes a few moments before you feel your release about to happen.

"fucking cum for me you dirty bitch come on-" rafe says between grunts.

you gasp as your orgasm hits you, and so does his seconds later, cum coming out of his cock. the train has now passed, and you both realize this in a panic.

you pull your shorts up quickly and look around for a tissue. rafe has started to drive away and you wipe at his stomach. he's exhaling deeply now.

"your parents home tonight?" he asks.

you lean back smiling teasingly as you bite your lip.

"no..."

"good cause i'm coming inside."

[marzipanandminutiae]

the one thing I am full-bore conspiracy theorist about?

daily contact lenses

or, well, not their existence, period. they're a valid health option that is best for some people, medically. but the sheer aggressiveness with which they're being pushed nowadays

the last few times I went to the eye doctor for my annual check-up, she was HEAVILY on my case to switch to dailies. like, to the point of arrogance and condescension when I said I preferred to stick with monthlies (I've worn contacts since I was 12, for reference). I also posted about it on a forum and got massive negativity in response, as well as being talked down to by someone claiming to be an optometrist himself

now if this were like...anti-vaxxer sentiment I'd understand that reaction. but from what I've heard, while monthlies do carry a higher risk of eye infections and such, they're not medically unsound or unsafe across the board. I'm willing to accept that risk, and since science has not found that they're terrible and should immediately be discontinued, I feel like my wishes should be respected and not belittled

point two: plastic waste. they say it's somehow less than using monthlies, but frankly I just don't see how that's possible. 365 of those little eye chips- times two! -and their packaging, add up to less than a case and a bottle of solution every few months, plus 24 contacts and their packaging? it doesn't make sense to me, and it doesn't help that I mostly see contact lens websites repeating this "fact." of course all contacts produce plastic waste, and I'd be perfectly willing to accept this as one of those You Have To Consume; You Just Decide What Areas Of Your Life Are Optimal For Minimization of Waste And What Aren't things, if dailies weren't being pushed so hard

(also I found two studies showing that monthly-replacement soft lenses produce less plastic waste than daily disposables. which, like. yes, this should be obvious, but here we are. granted, that's only two, and both studies emphasize that dailies and their accoutrements can be recycled, but see below)

some big companies have "contact recycling programs" but like. who's to say that's not greenwashing? where's the oversight? where are the investigations into what these programs actually DO? god knows we've been there before with recycling and corporations trying to pull the nylon-poly-blend Vegan Wool(TM) over our eyes

they're also more expensive than monthlies, which like. does not lend a positive slant to optometrists pushing them so stridently

on top of that, I and some other monthly users have noted that our contacts aren't lasting as long as they used to. for me, it was 17-18 years of smooth sailing with barely any problems, and as of like a year ago my contacts barely last two weeks without clouding up, ripping, chipping at the edges, causing my vision to blur, becoming uncomfortable...my brand did change around that time, so I hope it's just that, and the sample size of other monthly users I've pooled is VERY small. but it sure seems interesting that they suddenly started pushing a product that doesn't last long enough for people to notice low quality, around the time that at least some users of the longer-lasting version start having problems

you're pooh-poohing all of my concerns- which are indeed backed up by science, it seems! -with a "fix" that relies on big companies being honest about recycling, to push me from a non-ideal but still medically sound option to another that makes you more money?

I'm normally a pretty grounded person but I'm full-on tinfoil hat about this one

[yzzaqczec]

Beneath the moons glow

Idea: @sametsyun

Once, there was Y/N, a divine being created by the gods to watch over the moon. She was an angel with a silvery glow, her presence a soft luminescence among the vastness of the cosmos. The moon was her kingdom—silent, serene, and lonely. She spent her days attending wishes of the mortals below them. Their hopes whispered up to her through the night, which sounded all the more silent with them, till she heard their promises of the soul.

Except that one who came often was making her heart beat with something which she could not identify.

Lucifer, that was his name and was a fallen angel driven from Heaven long ago. Every time he would come to her place, that always would carry the promise of more than words: the excitement of seeing what the visitor may bring - small things- a bunch of ducks, flowers in star shape, anything whimsical and sweet. Y/N in turn gave the man her wishes for trivial things, moments of glee, for laughter. Alone no longer was Y/N in the company of her visitor. The days turned to months, and the months grew into years. A quiet affection for each other blossomed.

Their bonding grew in the silent nights that were lit by the moon. Lucifer never asked for anything extravagant, and Y/N would always find herself wanting to provide him with whatever he desired. She had fallen in love with him, although she did not know what to call it. Love? She never dared to ask, but she knew he was of the same thought. He smiled every time he saw her his smile shines brighter than the stars in the sky. She would do anything for him, and so did he seem.

Then one day, Lucifer just stopped coming.

Initially, Y/N thought it was just nothing. "Why haven't you come by? I wait for you each night, when the stars shine bright and the moon protects us both. Was this something I did?" she silently asked the empty moon.

Days became weeks, then weeks turned into months, all without him. She still waited, lonely and clueless. She searched the heavens for him, but he was nowhere to be found. She could not help but wonder whether something had happened, whether she perhaps had done something wrong. "Had I failed him in some way? Did he no longer want me to grant his wishes?" Her heart felt heavy as the cycles of the moon increased, and she began to feel a deep sadness that no star could chase away. The only solace was the fact that one day, he would return, and everything would be okay.

One day, Lucifer showed up. His smile was as broad as ever, but something was different. It did not feel the same. The warmth that once seemed to emanate from his presence was now gone, replaced by an emptiness that cut deeper than she could have imagined.

"Y/N" he greeted, the name slipping from his lips like a familiar song, but with a hollow tone. He handed her a small, delicate gift wrapped in glistening paper, but there was no joy behind his eyes.

Y/N heart skipped, her hopes rising for a moment. "It’s been a long time," she said softly. "I’ve missed you."

Lucifer's eyes flickered briefly, then he quickly covered it with a chuckle. "I've been busy. But I've come to ask for a wish."

Her heart leapt, and she smiled. This was it, she thought. "Maybe this is the moment we return to what we had before. Maybe it'll be like it once was." But his words shattered that fragile hope.

He asked for something that felt wrong, something that was against the very rules she had been bound to since her creation. It was a wish that involved breaking celestial laws. She hesitated. "This. This is too much. I can't grant this, Lucifer." But his eyes, those eyes she had trusted for so long, looked at her with something she couldn't place.

"You think I forgot you? You think I stopped caring? No, Y/N. I couldn't forget you. But the moment I walked away from the moon, I knew I'd lost something I couldn't get back," he said, his voice laced with guilt.

She felt the weight of his words, but despite her doubt, she couldn't refuse him. Her heart—"I would do anything for him,"—knew no better. With trembling hands, she granted the wish, though it was wrong, something that she knew she should not do.

What she did not know was the price with which it came.

Lucifer's trial soon followed, and Y/N was left dazed. She had been summoned to the heavenly court, where the angels looked at her with judgment in their eyes. Lucifer stood at the center of the courtroom, his head lowered in shame. And beside him stood Lilith—the one who had been with him all along, the one he had truly wanted all this time.

Her heart cracked, shards of trust and affection shattering. "You think I wanted to leave you? You think I wanted to stop visiting the moon? No. but I had no choice. Sometimes the price of freedom is heavier than you think," Lucifer had said, but his betrayal stung just the same.

As the angels questioned her, "What had you done, Y/N? What wish did you grant him?" this truth struck her like thunder—she was the one that helped him bring Lilith back.

Lucifer, in a moment of panic, pointed his finger at her. "She did it. It was her who granted me the wish."

The words cut deeper than any betrayal she could have thought of. "So this was it. All that I had given to him, all the love I thought we shared. it was nothing."

Lucifer and Lilith were punished and sent down to Hell to stay there forever. However, Y/N was not shown any mercy; however, the punishment she received was a lighter one. They said she didn't know what the wish would do. Nevertheless, she was sent out of Heaven, a beautiful home lost to her for good. She remained there, on the moon, her heart a heavy aching weight in her chest.

"You were my haven. my escape from everything. I never thought that I would ever bring about such pain in you. I thought that I was capable of handling all of this, but it was just too much," Lucifer's words echoed in her head as she looked out to the vast emptiness that the moon surface seemed to offer.

There was her on the bleak, snow cold desert landscape alone, when before she a green bunny that he'd given her years earlier stirred to life, tears fallen into its little soft frame on whose green jade-eyes sparkle lit after these final tears until she saw not alone again. Small creature nuzzled by it and she found this instant comfort.

“I thought I was doing what was right for myself, for Lilith. But now I realize I’ve lost more than I could ever gain. You were everything I needed. and I let you go,” Lucifer's voice, tinged with regret, haunted her every moment.

Years passed, eons even. The moon, once dark and empty, started changing. Lights shimmered, festivals sprang up, and laughter filled the air. It had become a place for celebration, joy, and fun, but Y/N heart still ached with pain for the love she had lost.

Her search for Lucifer never ended. She tried everything: every spell, every ritual, every prayer. But nothing seemed to work. "If you're out there, Lucifer, do you ever wonder about me? Do you ever miss the moon? Or has the Hell beneath your feet become too heavy?" she whispered, looking to the heavens, but nothing came.

One day, she realized that despite everything, she had never truly stopped loving him. "You’ll always be a part of me, Lucifer. Whether you forgive me or not, you’ll always have a place in my heart. I just wish I could show you that before it was too late."

And so, with lights and laughter still burning all around, Y/N made a promise to find him again. No matter the time it took or how long the distance was; she would find her way back to him.

And perhaps, just maybe, the stars will finally align.

---

Will post the pt2 next week:>

OKAY TOTALLY RUSHED THIS

I did not proofread this so mb if there are some mistakes, I totally added chang'e instead of y/n in some of these😭

Idea from!! @sametsyun

https://www.tumblr.com/sametsyun/742930833875353600/i-have-a-fanfic-idea-alright-you-guys-know-that?source=share

TYSM I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO THINK OF AN IDEA(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

[ninikrumbs]

After you

Satoru gojo x reader. birthday special. angst angst angst. im sowwy. changes to 1st person halfway through. fluff if you squint very hard. feat. Hiromi

You stirred gently out of your sleep, eyes slowly opening. And for a moment everything was hazy, then you realized you fell asleep on the sofa of your living room.

Pushing yourself halfway up, the sound of water dripping on paper caught your attention as you glanced down at the array of photos scattered beside your chest. A hand flew to your face when you realized the abundance of tears free falling from your cheeks to the mementos below.

Echoes of his voice and flashes of his smile still lingered in your glazed mind making your lips tremble as a knot of emotion lodged on your throat. It took everything in you not to sob.

All at once it came back to you, waking up in the middle of the night, unable to go to sleep. So you decided to go to the ktichen but stopping short when you habitually opened your phone and saw the date. Time halted to a stop, you stopped breathing altogether as your hands slightly trembled around the phone.

Everything was a blur after that, and somehow you found yourself at your living room with a box full of mementos from what seemed like a another lifetime ago. There was a time when the mere sight of this box - that you skillfully hid at the back of your closet - brought you to tears and sometimes it still does.

Memories of your youth stared back at you. From your high school days to the your time as a teacher at Jujutsu High. Photos of a white haired boy with a smile that could rival the sun made your heart ache. Especially the strip of pictures the both of you took in one of those vintage photobooths. The both of you looked so young, so happy, not yet tainted by the darkness of the world, still filled with so much hope for the future. Tears lined your eyes once more.

You didn't know when you fell asleep, probably when your eyes got too heavy. Wiping your tears, you stood up and walk to the window. The moon was bright and full, you often talked to the moon on nights like this. Talking to it as if he could hear your voice.

Hey, Satoru

Its been almost 6 years since you left. 6 years when my life got torn in half. When the news of your death shook me to my core and my world came crashing down all at once.

I remember the denial and the anger. I cursed the universe for taking you away, before bargaining with every God and being out there to bring you back to me. And for a while I thought I'd never accept it and maybe some part of me still hasn't.

After the war against Sukuna, grief overtook me. I was a mere shell of who I used to be. Its like a noose was tied aroud my heart. Even breathing proved difficult in a world without you. My days were empty and monotonous. Only waking up to eat then sleep, and sometimes I wished I wouldn't wake up at all so that Id see your face once again. Its like I was drowning in the middle of the ocean, waves pulling me down, not a drop of hope that Id ever reach the shore.

I saw you everywhere. In the bright blue sky under the morning sun. In the beach where the seas reflected your eyes. When the snow falls and sticks to the ground. Things that once made me happy were then only constant reminders of what Ive lost.

And when I received the letter that you wrote to me, every word was a stab to the heart.

I want you to live, sweets. I want you to get everything , do everything you've ever wanted. To never settle. To love again- though Ill probably haunt him for his entire life.

It made me laugh bitterly, because didn't you know that everything I wanted died along with you?

Yet I tried, I tried for you, Satoru. And for the people around me.

After some time, I went out. Started teaching again, hoping to live up to the legacy you left behind. Ate lunch with Shoko, guided missions with the students and even a few dates. None of it mattered though, because in the end, I searched for you in every room, and in every person I met. Hoping for just a glimpse of your smile or the twinkle of your bright azure eyes.

Eventually, with a heavy heart, I came to realize that you don't get that lucky twice. That what we shared was a once in a lifetime occurence.

"There you are, sweetheart. Couldn't sleep?" A deep voice laced with sleep reached my ears.

I glanced up to see Hiromi, walking down the stairs only in a pair of sweatpants.

Once he reached my place by the window, he saw my glossy eyes, the pictures in my hands and the opened box at the bottom of the sofa.

His eyes softened, filled with warmth and understanding as he realized, "Ah, Ill go make us some tea."

Then I found Hiromi. Or better yet, he found me. He was so kind and strong, so solid and dependable. He met me at my lowest, he comforted me as I cried about you. He was the lifeboat that found me, and he didn't just throw a buoy for me hold onto but he dove head first into the raging ocean and held me in his arms as he swam me to shore.

I never understood how he fell inlove with me regardless of the endless emotional baggage that I carried. And he has proven to me time and time again that he more than willing to carry it with me. He was so good to me, I didn't deserve him, I knew that.

You would've liked him, Satoru. Hiromi's love breathed life into me. He made me warm and tingly inside. My stomach still does backflips at the sight of him. I was smiling again, enjoying life again. I could finally recognize the girl in the mirror.

It wasn't an easy journey though. In the beginning of our relationship, guilt would eat my insides when I kept comparing him to you. His brown eyes to your blue. How sometimes, he reminds me of you. And how for awhile when he kissed me, I felt your lips. It was unfair to him, I know. Yet he was so calm and patient, voicing nothing but understanding and assurances when I cried and confessed to him my selfish thoughts.

I followed him to the kitchen. "I didn't mean to wake you, Hiromi."

He glanced back at me, smiling softly. "Its okay, sweetheart."

We sat in companionable silence as he made tea, before he set the cups on the counter infromt of me.

After a moment, his hand cupped my face, caressing it gently, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head, "No.. Im okay, really."

He let out a breath and pulled me close by the waist, before pressing a kiss on my forehead, "Im here, always."

Hiromi astounds me everday, because I dont know If I would react the same way if the situation was reversed.

I pressed my cheek to his warm chest, breathing him in as I hugged him back. "I know and you'll never know how grateful I am for that."

Pulling back, I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss. A sign of my gratitude, but not for more than a second. It would be unfair for me to kiss him more when you still lingered at the back of my mind.

Even though now, I don't feel your lips anymore, Satoru. I feel Hiromi's, which made me happy. I love him so much, he deserves so much more than the chipped heart than I can give him yet he says its all he wants.

Seeing the melancholic look in my eyes, Hiromi rested his forehead on mine, "Ill go to bed first."

I know he thinks I want space from him when I get like this, when my memories of you plague my mind but he couldn't be more wrong. I pouted, "No, please stay."

He was my constant reminder of everything good in my life, he kept me afloat. He never made me feel crazy or stupid for being so hung up about my dead boyfriend. He was a saint and Ill spend the rest of my life making it up to him, to love him like he deserves.

He chuckled, "Okay, I can whip us some pancakes if you want?"

"That sounds amazing." I grinned, albeit a bit watery.

I did what you wanted , Satoru. I lived and loved again. I never settled for anything less. Thanks to you I found happiness and love, things I thought I would never have again after you. Though you will always own a piece of me, a piece of my heart and soul and I never want it back.

Happy Birthday, Satoru.

The years we spent together are still my favorite.

To me, you'll always be 29 and beautiful. And until our next blue spring arrives, Ill continue to live the life you gave yours for.

This made me cry when I thought of it. Thoughts?

[redcloaklynx]

party banter in a tadpoled cazador au

Lae'zel: "I do not understand this Loviathar god. What is the point of injury if not to kill?" Cazador: "I do not understand Loviathar worship either. For one, their methods could use a lot of refinement. Have you seen how crude their whips are?" Astarion: "I'm going to scout ahead. Do alert me when he stops talking."

---

Cazador: "Boy, I have heard you lay flirtations on practically every member of this party aside from me." Astarion: "Cazador! Have you been waiting your turn?" Cazador: "Yes. I believe I might have a scathing enough response that you finally fall silent."

---

Gale: "Cazador Szarr... I've seen your name on research publishings. I'd not expect the face to be Kozakuran." Cazador: "The Wizard of Waterdeep, is it? Does your city find itself inundated often, or does its wizard wish that I remedy that?" Gale: "Er, no need. It was an academic question."

---

Karlach: "Between my body temperature and Gale's magic nonsense, I wonder who's got the worst blood in the party." Cazador: "It's the wizard. I keep my distance from him when I can." Gale: "Side effects of terminal Netherese contamination may include vampire repellency- noted."

---

Cazador: "A Ravengard, are you? And yet I cannot remember your presence among high society in Baldur's Gate." Wyll: "We should all get to know each other more. Let's share a few bottles around the campfire, tonight." Lae'zel: "What does this bottle-sharing entail?" Wyll: "We'll drink alcohol and take turns asking each other innocuous questions." Cazador: "Innocuous questions, yes. But I will not, before you ask again, be telling you the location of all side entrances to my mansion."

---

Shadowheart: "Say, Lae'zel, how do your people do interrogations?" Lae'zel: "We amputate fingers, eyes and limbs until they speak. If that does not work, we try to starve or burn them." Shadowheart: "Really? I'd always heard the other way around. Beatings, starvation, then amputatation." Cazador: "I enjoy flaying before amputating, personally." Shadowheart: "Does that make them more likely to talk?" Cazador: "No, but the vampiric charm I cast once I am bored does."

---

Cazador: "Who is it that handed Astarion a sewing kit yesterday?" Wyll: "I did, I found one in the Blighted Village. Damn, I didn't know vampire senses were that sharp." Cazador: "Oh, I very sharply sensed this morning that somebody undid the seams to all my clothes and sewed my socks together in the night."

---

Cazador: "This incessant wiggling between the eyes is driving me mad. Is this how a heartbeat felt?" Gale: "Not in the slightest. Which begs the question, how many years ago were you buried underneath?" Cazador: "I am older than the goddess you were wildly unfit to dally with, whelp."

---

self-indulgent last one. i headcanon cazador to be very depressed

Cazador: "Now that you've had other blood to compare to, was rat-blood really a reason for offense?" Astarion: "Are you kidding? Wyll's blood is richer than the finest vintage there is. It's incomparable to rat-blood." Cazador: "Hm. Perhaps the passage of centuries has diminished my enjoyment in things." Astarion: "Am I included in 'things'?" Cazador: "Yes." Astarion: "Ugh. All those years spent torturing me, and you weren't even having fun?"

[volkswagonblues]

@alluroa asked me about book recs, so I'd thought I'd do a combined

2023-24 fav books in review

I've grouped them together in pairs for thematic relevance

The God of the Woods // North Woods

God of the Woods is set in a girl's summer camp in the 1970s; North Woods is a long American historical novel that traces the history of one patch of New England land from the first European settlers onwards. I them together because they cover similar geographical regions. I thought both of them had an incredible sense of time and place, very good if you enjoy new england

2. Breakfast of Champions // Penance

To me, both are just fucking MASTERPIECES that defy genre. Sorry guys that I'm trying to toot Vonnegut's horn in 2024, like wow, check out this tiny indie writer that no one has ever heard of. But Breakfast of Champions truly feels shockingly fresh for something written fifty years ago. Race inequality, gender relations, the rot of late capitalist America... 1973 Vonnegut had already seen and nailed it all.

Penance by the way is a must read for every tumblrina. It has the most perfect pastiche of fandom I had ever seen, it's got me HOWLING multiple times. And the way that Clark depicts female friendships...it's like those photorealistic dutch paintings of flowers where you can't believe it was painted. I can't believe anyone just. Made this up. Her fucking mind.....

3. The Invisible Kingdom // Strangers to Ourselves

The Invisible Kingdom is about the writer's struggle with chronic illness, which I think precedes long covid but very relevant to the Current Conditions Of Our Times. Stranger to Ourselves's chapter on eating disorders and the chapter on schizophrenia reframed how I thought about those things. Maybe I'm shallow but I genuinely found it so profound in the way it framed mental illness as a "career" that people fall in to. That's a very bad summary. Go read it yourself.

4. The Guest // The Master Key

Okay, sorry, but I felt like the entire world was reading The Guest last summer so I won't explain too much, but I'll say I really like this style of prose. The language is simple, but so elegantly done. Very sharp social satire. I wish I could write like this. The Master Key is a Japanese mystery novel that's a pastiche of the Golden Age of 20th century mysteries. Very classic "locked room" mystery, but with a really brilliant dose of social drama. It's set in an apartment building where only unmarried woman are allowed to live. The tenants who remained after decades are often sad, lonely, and hiding some bizarre secret. So good I almost forgot it's a murder mystery

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 787: The back that was pushed!!

Pag 1

1: Packed with the passion of everyone in Sohoku... a full throttle injection of will-power!!

Pag 2

1: Iitsuka-san!!

Goo Fukuoka!!

Oh, Tomaribata!!

Fukuoka, take the mountain!!

2: What about Hakogaku's Manami!?

3: Don't worry about him. He did catch up to me but then suddenly stopped

When I shouted at him, he closed his eyes and fell silent!!

4: Is it because he found out that Iitsuka-san is Fukuoka Josei's “mountain shogun”?

Yeah, probably!!

Amazing!!

5: Let's take the lead now!!

Ahead there's also Fujiwara-san from the Kyuushu team Kumadai!!

6: But anyway for a moment I was so scared....

Pag 3

1: When Hakogaku sent ahead their ace Manami!!

2: I can hear it

4: The first day's mountain prize!! Let's take it, at our hometown's Inter High!!

5: Wait....!!

6: “The sound of wheels”? “He's catching up”?

Could it be that Manami is waiting for someone?

Pag 4

1: And that's why he slowed down....!?

2: Raise your pace, Tomaribata!!

4: We're still at the start of the mountain, if we use up our legs here....

It's fine, we'll establish a good distance now

Huh!? But

Think, idiot!! If you think about it, you'll get it!! The person Manami slowed his legs down to wait for....

Pag 5

1: It's Sohoku's “Mountain King”!!

Pag 8

1: Mountain King!!

2: Fo-fo-for the first day's mountain!?

Why even the Mountain King, even the Mountain King!!

I don't know!! I don't know but that doesn't change the reality!!

3: Last year so many times we couldn't race each other

So I thought that maybe this year too...

4: What do I do if he doesn't come, I thought....

5: I was scared

6: For a while I couldn't even open my eyes

Pag 9

2: I caught up

4: Thank god it's real!!

Pag 10

1: You came, Sakamichi-kun

Yeah!! Manami-kun!!

Pag 11

1: Can we race?

2: Yes!!

Pag 12

3: Everyone in the team pushed my back!!

Pag 13

1: Onoda-kun!!

2: He should have caught up with Manami around now!!

3: Onoda-san!!

4: Hahaha!!

5: Back-gate slope-senpai!!

6: At full throttle!!

At full throttle!!

Run!!

Please run!!

Pag 14

1: Nghh...!!

2: “Nghhh” it's right!!

3: Ahaha

Hahaha

They're suddenly laughing, let's raise our pace!!

Yes!!

4: It was during your training camp on our first year

5: When we raced for the first time

6: I remember I was so excited when I heard that our names were “Sakamichi” and “Sangaku”

It's the perfect combo!!

Pag 15

1: I was surprised you didn't even have your feet fastening on

We stopped at the summer house and talked

2: We were so free back then!!

We didn't have any responsibility, not teams nor jerseys!!

3: Ahaha

4: When you're in second and third year the things you have to do increases so much....

5: I'd throw this “captain” title away anytime!!

Hahaha I get it, it's difficult for me too

Pag 16

1: If someone on my team heard that they would get angry

Doubashi-kun especially would get angry!!

Sounds scary...

4: You're wearing the number “3”

Ah, yeah, uhm, we talked with everyone on the team

Huh.... on official races the winner of the previous year should wear the number “1”

5: I see, leave it to me then

I'll push through, hahaha!!

Thank you!!

Is.. is that alright?

Waa, Pierre-sensei is so reliable!!

6: Your teacher....!!

Then...

7: Yeah, “3” like Makishima-san's “173”

Pag 17

1: I'm also wearing Toudou-san's number “13”

2: “Sleeping beauty”!!

Kuah!! Toudou!!

Pag 18

1: That day, the first day of the Inter High two years ago

2: While we were pulling the team, I imagined those two fighting for the mountain prize....

3: I'm sure they must be having fun

Fighting until you're empty

It can't not be fun!!

4: We can't go right now, but let's do it

A fight until the last drop, until our limits!!

Yeah!!

5: We promised to race

Today may be the day to truly make that wish....

Pag 19

1: come true!!

Pag 20

1: Our third year, the last Inter High

2: The first day.... a fight to compete only for the colored bib

3: The purity of this race is infinitely high!!

4: Yeah!!

Pag 21

5: Let's do it, Manami-kun!!

Pag 22

2: I've been waiting to hear those words!!

[samioli]

Are you doing the "Drunken Love Confessions" game? If so, I'd love a 16. "This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams we're usually kissing." - narumitsu. Thanks!

Hi there! Thanks for the prompt! I can't believe this is the first narumitsu thing I've written in months, CRAZY. I hope you enjoy!

16. "This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams we're usually kissing."

Phoenix never expected Miles Edgeworth to be this much of a lightweight. 

He always pictured him drinking glass upon glass of wine and still being his perfect, elegant, slightly-pompous self. 

Who knew if you got him to do a few tequila shots that all went away?

Although to be fair, he’s definitely been less of an ass these past few months, Phoenix thought to himself, gazing at the man who was currently dozing off on his shoulder in the taxi they were in together. Once you’ve seen a guy drool on your suit jacket, he kinda seemed a little less scary to you.

Besides…he’s been through a lot. 

Phoenix softened as Edgeworth started to snore lightly in his sleep. After everything with the von Karma case, he thought the man deserved as many naps as he wanted.

Still though, Phoenix wasn’t sure what it exactly meant for the two of them. Were they acquaintances? Co-workers? Friends?

…Could they ever be more?

That’s not fair, Phoenix, he chastised himself. Let the man breathe; no need to smother him with your weird crush that you’ve had since you were kids.

He had to remind himself that the guy just found out his mentor (and kind of adoptive father) killed his dad all those years ago—a crime he blamed himself for.

Edgeworth deserved a break.

Which was exactly why Phoenix practically dragged him for a post-trial celebration. He wanted Edgeworth to get his mind off of things, to even let loose a little bit, but he wasn’t really sure if that was possible.

After tonight, Phoenix knew it was. Edgeworth turned out to be a really goofy and happy drunk, which surprised the hell out of him. He honestly never thought he’d associate the word goofy with Edgeworth before, but hey, never say never.

Edgeworth was laughing at Phoenix’s sub-par jokes, giggling to himself and practically beaming at him all night.

It was…nice.

Addicting, even. He wished he could see that side of Edgeworth more.

“Is over here alright?” The taxi driver asked, shaking Phoenix out of his thoughts. He looked out the window at this really fancy-shmancy apartment complex, hoping Edgeworth had given the right address.

Phoenix gently raised his shoulder, attempting to wake the man up. “Psst. Edgeworth. We’re here, I think.”

It took a moment, but Edgeworth started to wake, opening and closing his eyes a few times. “Hmm?”

God, he was adorable.

“Is this the right place?” he asked, trying not to fall head over heels in love with a man who could barely tolerate his existence up until recently.

Edgeworth blinked a few more times—first at him, then at the apartment building. He seemed to think about it for a bit before perking up. 

“Oh! We’re home.”

Phoenix attempted not to choke on his own spit at that, at Edgeworth implying that it was their home, but was it a fucking task. 

He didn’t mean it like that, he’s drunk right now.

Phoenix tried to get his shit together and thanked the taxi driver, shuffling Edgeworth out of the cab. He was a little wobbly in his movements, but he could still somewhat stand up on his own.

Thankfully.

“Alright, buddy,” Phoenix started, deciding to take the chance to call Edgeworth that when he knew he could totally get away with it now, “lead me to your place.”

Edgeworth nodded sagely. “Certainly,” he said, sounding almost like his usual, eloquent self.

Until he bumped straight into a wall.

“Woah!” Phoenix half exclaimed, half laughed. He rushed to Edgeworth’s side to make sure there weren’t any injuries. “You okay, bud?”

The man in question responded with a hum. “I’m fine. Tired.”

He chuckled. “Point to which apartment is yours, okay?”

They got to Edgeworth’s apartment with little to no issues (Edgeworth was wobbling here and there) and Phoenix asked him for the key to open the door. Once they were inside, he was going to ask where Edgeworth’s room was, but the man plopped himself on the couch in the living room.

“Hey, don’t you want to sleep in your bed? That’s gonna kill your back tomorrow.”

“Hmm. No. Don’t want to move,” Edgeworth said, closing his eyes and lying down on his couch.

“Come on, you have to at least change out of your suit.”

Edgeworth groaned, a bit like a child. Phoenix tried not to laugh.

“C’mon,” Phoenix urged, trying to lift Edgeworth. “Up you go.”

Edgeworth obeyed him the rest of the way until they got to his room, only muttering to himself a little bit.

Phoenix sat Edgeworth on his bed as he looked in his drawers for some kind of pajamas. 

“The top drawer has my night clothes,” Edgeworth slurred, lying back on the bed.

“Yes, sir,” Phoenix said, hearing Edgeworth giggle behind him. He grabbed what looked like really fancy pajamas—pink satin ones.

Wow. This guy lives a life of luxury.

He turned and placed them on the bed, tilting his head when Edgeworth was still giggling. “What’s so funny?”

“You…you called me—” Edgeworth went into a fit of giggles. “You called me sir. I usually call you that.”

Phoenix laughed, scrunching his face in confusion. “What? You’ve never called me that in your life.”

Edgeworth’s brow furrowed. “Oh. Really? I guess I’ve only said it in my dreams.”

Phoenix froze, feeling heat creep into his cheeks. 

He didn’t mean…No, that’s crazy.

“U-Uh.” He coughed. “Okay, then.” He cleared his throat, patting the pajamas on the bed. “You think you can change by yourself?”

Edgeworth nodded. “Indeed. Verily.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. “Well, okay. I’m gonna get you a glass of water okay? Give you some time to change."

He led himself into the kitchen and prepared two glasses, feeling a bit thirsty himself. 

He tried not to think about the comment Edgeworth made.

He failed. Several times.

After trying to calm himself and get rid of any inappropriate thoughts, he went back toward Edgeworth’s room holding the two glasses of water. 

“Edgeworth?” he called out. “You changed?”

Phoenix heard some sort of affirmative sound, pushing the door open. He placed the glasses of water on the nightstand.

When he looked at Edgeworth, his breath stopped.

Why does he have to be so goddamn cute? WHY.

He looked absolutely adorable in his fancy pajamas—even had a little sleeping cap on. It was so unfair.

“Before you sleep, drink some water for me okay?”

Edgeworth opened his eyes, gray irises staring at him. After a moment, he smiled softly. “Alright,” he said, rising a bit out of bed into a sitting position. He took the glass of water closest to him and started to drink.

Satisfied, Phoenix took the other glass and started drinking some of his own. Edgeworth settled his glass down on the nightstand and looked at him intensely.

He lowered his glass a bit, tilting his head. “What is it?”

“This is not a dream…is it?” Edgeworth mused, before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think it is.”

Phoenix smiled softly before taking another sip of his water.

“If this were one of my usual dreams, we’d be kissing.”

Phoenix promptly inhaled his water, going into a coughing fit.

What????

While he coughed and coughed, Phoenix’s mind went racing. Surely this was just Edgeworth talking nonsense, right? It had to be. The guy hated him until a few days ago! And even then it was pretty shaky ground!

There was no way Edgeworth had dreams about kissing him. No way at all.

…Right?

“Are you alright?” Edgeworth asked, and woah, when did he get up out of bed? He was in Phoenix’s space, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

It didn’t really help the situation.

“I’m fine,” Phoenix choked out, in between a few coughs. He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about me, go sleep.”

Edgeworth peered at him for a few more moments, before he relented, going back toward the bed and laying down. “If you insist.”

I gotta get outta here before I do something stupid. 

There were a few moments of silence as Phoenix simply watched Edgeworth settle himself on the bed.

We’ll talk about it in the morning.

There was always going to be morning. And if there wasn’t, they’d find a chance to talk about it eventually. Phoenix would make sure of it.

It’s not like the guy was going anywhere any time soon—they’d find the time.

After a few more moments of silence, Phoenix figured Edgeworth had fallen asleep. He clicked the lamp on the nightstand off, cascading the room in darkness.

“Goodnight, Edgeworth,” he said softly. 

Tomorrow.

He walked toward the door, ready to leave the room.

“Phoenix?”

He stopped. That was the first time Edgeworth called him that in years. It made his heart pound.

“...Yes?”

“Thank you again,” Edgeworth murmured, so softly it made his chest ache. “You saved me.”

And it was the way Edgeworth said it, like he was in awe, that made Phoenix speechless.

He swallowed. “Of course.” He lingered for a few more moments. “Goodnight, Edgeworth," he repeated, feeling like it was the only thing he could say.

“Goodnight, Wright.”

Phoenix stared for a beat longer in the darkness before he forced his legs to move out of the doorway.

They’d talk about it tomorrow.

[mayaflowerxs]

omgg hii! i'd like to request a fic of Jeno (similar to jaemin's Crazy In Love) but i wanna have the fic sweeter and cuter, as in jeno's really and deeply in love with y/n and that he always shamelessly shows how clingy he is around y/n and would do anything in the world just for her 🥺

(i wouldn't mind a little bit of romantic smut between Jeno & y/n too 🤭)

FAILED CONFESSIONS

Synopsis: The five times Jeno failed to confess & ask you out and the one time he finally found the courage. Or, in which Jeno embarrasses himself multiple times until he finally manages to do things right.

Warning: Fluff / Humor / Smut. Swear word usage, softdom!Jeno, oral + creampie, it’s on the more cliche side so beware! She fell first he fell harder trope. Idol life!

Pairing: Jeno x fem reader

1. WHEN HE WAS 8

The day you saw Jeno was at work. As a cashier, you see faces every second of every hour and unfortunately for him you wouldn’t recognize him again after that day. At least that’s what he thinks. Jeno’s used to the attention, to girls fawning over him and guys wanting to be his friends. He’s popular, aura of his is very enticing but not for you. Maybe it was because you had currently been running an eight hour shift, on the busiest day of the week and the store lacked cashiers but it seemed the tables have turned the second you ringed his group of friends.

Rowdy and in their own world, the friend group continues to have their conversation of god knows what. And it wasn’t until you asked what sort of payment will be made did he turn to face you. He’s not spiritual, not into astrology nor psychology or any of that sort of thing and yet, in that moment he wanted to asks all sorts of questions. Like how is it, that you managed to get him starstruck by merely being in his presence. Frozen in place, hands becoming clammy, throat clenching and hand half way through his pocket and fidgeting with his sleeve. His brain practically reboots until he’s able to move again. “Oh sorry, um..how much?” He asks shyly, mentally scolding himself as he tries to avoid as much eye contact.

And even though you didn’t notice the flustered state the boy in front of you was in, he felt as if you did. There’s no way you didn’t notice the nervous gulp and the struggle to take out his credit card. There’s no way you didn’t notice the way his friends began to snicker the second they realized how he got because of you. But as he swipes the card and you hand him the receipt with a quick, ‘have a good day’ he slightly wished you did notice him.

Jeno wasn’t one to waste time. Any girl he liked he was quick to ask out and yet as he grabbed all the bags, not wanting the others to help carry and slightly wanting to impress you: he walked off as quickly as he could. Forgetting about his credit card, “Your credit card!” You say and hand it out to him. A tight lipped smile, he nods and grabs it. Uttering a low thanks he was sure you didn’t even hear. Shutting his eyes momentarily and walking out of the store he scolded himself all the way to the parking lot. Throwing the bags inside and getting in, he waited for the moment in which his friends would give him hell. And when they do arrive, as expected they dived right in.

The car erupted in chaos, he felt their hands shaking him as they cooed. Jokes and laughs were made, teasing from Chenle and Haechan and squeals from Mark. He wanted to punch every single one of them. He didn’t want to be reminded of how much he acted like a fool. He didn’t want to be reminded that no matter how much he physically changed he’s still the same eight year old dork that struggled to ask you out all those years ago. A single rose in hand with a box of chocolates. Propping his glasses up the bridge of your nose as he tried to steady his breathing. You’ve been his long time crush since preschool, way before he even understood what feelings were. His best friend Jaemin at his side reminding him everything will work out. That you would say yes, he spent the day before rehearsing what’d he say. How he’d approach you, would it be in front of everyone? Would he ask you to meet him behind a tree?

During the first and second grade, he grew just the tiniest bit of confidence to talk to you but for the most part still too shy. The most he ever spoke to you was to ask you to pass him the glue. Spending most of his time admiring you from afar and when he decided he’d ask you to be his girlfriend, Jaemin was ecstatic for him. Taking him to the nearest store where he spent too much time trying to find the right rose and box of chocolates. All just for it to never be received by you. The next day came and as he walked past the gates of the school he noticed the slight sadness in his best friends eyes. “I’m sorry.”

But he couldn’t pay much mind to him. Only a few yards away from the two of them, were you and your first ever boyfriend Shotaro. A transfer from Japan and even though he only knew a few sentences the two of you quickly hit it off. Close to the hip, Jeno should’ve seen this coming. Of course he noticed how good friends you two became and yet he was dumb to think he wouldn’t ask you out. Of course he would, you’re pretty, kind, funny and sassy. All that he likes about you. And so feeling disheartened, he throws the rose into the trash can and gives Jaemin the chocolates. Ever since that day, he’s only liked you from afar. He thought as the time went on he’d forget about this ‘silly’ crush on you but that would be far from the truth.

Which is why, as he currently sits in the car. Running a frustrated hand through his hair and contemplates on what he should do. This would be the first time seeing you after high school, and yet just as he thought he moved on. BAM! Did all those jitters come flying back into the deepest pit of his stomach. I guess he hasn’t actually moved on then.

2. WHEN IN THE 6TH GRADE

The class was switching seats. And as comfortable as the students were, a part dreaded this day but others didn’t. No, others were excited, others were Jeno. As his teacher walked past each desk, one by one and calling out a name his heart only increased in beats. Inhaling sharply, fingers slightly crossed as he hoped his and your name would be called. Not even caring if he got to sit in the back of the class or not.

“Y/n.” His heart skipped a beat, watching as you send a sad smile to your friend and walk over to your new seat. At the front, left corner. Furthest from the teacher and back facing the cubbies. And the desk right in front of her, the teacher hits with her pen and reads the name. “Jeno.” Hearing his friends pat his back and tease him for having to sit in the front he pretends to look sad but doesn’t waste time to go to his new spot. A miracle it was, a blessing his teacher gave him for seating him so close to you. In front of you where he only mostly sees you. And as he sits down, he feels the familiar tightness in his throat appear. His hands becoming clammy and fingers fidgeting with his sleeves. Your eyes momentarily glanced at him and sent a quick smile before looking past him and stare at your friend. As pathetic as it was, he froze. Mind spiraling as he replays the short smile you sent him. You never smiled at him, of course you smiled before but usually it’s because of your happy state but this. This was voluntarily only for him. Not for a group of people or the situation. Only for him, and even though he shouldn’t think much he can’t help but smile idiotically at himself about it.

During the time he sat in front of you, he made it his mission to get you to smile more, and if lucky, make you laugh. So, purposely he began to make dumb decisions, crack jokes and when he notices the slight curve on your face he knew he was heading into the right direction. Letting you in on the pranks he was about to pull on his friends and feeling joyous when you helped him. Accidentally getting glue on his hair, red in the face but liked when you began to giggle and help take it out of him. With you so close and smelling your vanilla perfume, he tenses and panicked to look anywhere but you. Asking for help even when he didn’t need it with the excuse that you’re the smartest of the class, which you were. He made himself seem like the class clown who had not a single clue as to how to do his work. And even though he got in trouble a lot, he felt happy to know it was getting your attention. So much, you spoke to him every chance you got.

It almost seemed like everything was finally going right for him. You and Shotaro had broken up a while ago, and the only other boy you dated was the class clown Yangyang in the fifth grade. And as jealous he got, Jeno tried his hardest to not come to resent him because he knew he was a good kid. But his hopes were back, you were single. He’s been single even when it’s been made obvious many of the girls especially the popular ones have had a crush on him. He was feeling optimistic and so during lunch, he finds a way to sit by you every time. Even if he had to cut people to stand behind you in line, and during recess he insisted his and your friend group played a game together even when the two had different interests. But it’s not like he cares if his friends wanted to play soccer and yours wanted to play in the bark box. He only looked at you and waited to see what you had to say. And whatever you choice was even if it was to do jump rope which he was miserably bad at or sit at the bench under the blazing sun, he agreed instantly.

Valentines Day was nearing. Which meant grams were around the corner. A time in which anyone can buy someone else a piece of candy with a note on it. Whether it’d be anonymous or not but Jeno was feeling brave. This could be his time to ask you out, to confess his feelings and so with his 25 cents in hand. He waits patiently in line, and as he goes to fill out the note he overhears some of the other boys discussing who’d they be sending their candy grams to. And when he hears your name, he feels his heart drop. “Me too!” “No way! I said her name first!” “Yeah well I like her too!” “Who says she’ll pick you?” Whatever hope Jeno had that you’d accept to be his girlfriend fell down the drain. Those boys were much more taller than him, bigger. You would never go for a scrawny kid like him. And so, without his name written on there he simply writes, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’ And when the day comes where the names are read, he watches sadly as you get over ten grams from your friends and admirers. Slightly smiling fondly at you for the way your eyes brighten at all the times your name was called.

Dejected that when you said yes to a confession on one of the Valentine grams, it wasn’t his.

3. WHEN IN MIDDLE SCHOOL

Seventh grade by far was the most thrilling year ever. A new school meant new environment, teachers, and classmates. The size of peers doubled and as Jeno made new friends so did you. At some point he managed to move on from you, just a little though. He made tons of new friends but those that sticked were a Canadian kid named Mark and a bratty kid named Haechan. Now enrolled in a soccer team, his clique grew from four friends to almost a class full. His popularity grew as well, his hair was freshly cut. He figured new school new look, clothes were newer and of popular expensive brand. Shoes nice and shiny and backpack a plain black Jansport because that’s was all popular kids wear. Not only that, but more girls were after him. Rumors were spreading like hell fire with more kids along with the gossip so any girl got a crush on him, he’d know within a day notice.

But after the long list of girls liking him, none of the names were ever yours. His attention was drifted off from you for a while, until he saw you show up to one of his games. When he notices you on the bleachers he can’t help but freeze. Why were you here? Do you like sports? Was it because it was tournaments? Were you here for somebody? Dating someone in the team? Oh god hopefully not. And as he tried his hardest to focus, he felt his hands getting clammy again. Just knowing you’re watching, maybe not exactly at him but in general had him feeling extremely nervous. What if he messes up and makes a fool out of himself? Then again it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. And when the game ends and luckily winning, his eyes aren’t on his coach nor his teammates. Not even the medal he gets, no his eyes are focused on tracking you. And when he spots you he felt relieved to know you weren’t here because one of the guys were dating you. On the contrary, your friend was dating one of the players, the goalie actually.

And with an excuse in thought. He walks over to you three. “Hey.” He managed to get out without his voice shaking. “Hi!” Your friend greets, a slight nod from you which kinda saddens him. So long since the two of you properly spoke it almost seemed like you two were strangers. But he wanted to speak to you again, which is why when he had a moment with his goalie he demanded he’d bring them any chance he got. Even when no game was going on, “You have to bring them.” “Them?” “Yes, your girlfriend and y/n.” But he didn’t leave any spot for questions, sternly giving him a look he simply nods and obliges. And so, little by little does he get close to you again. So much, rumors have begun to spread. Were the two of you dating? Were there any feelings involved? And even though Jeno only laughed it off, he looked at you expectantly, hopefully. Only smiling off the sting when you simply shake your head. Not even changing his appearance did you have any interest in him.

A dance was nearing, and Jeno thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to ask you out. And this time, he had your friends support. Making sure to get you to not accept any one else’s request and even asking you frequently about Jeno. And when she assured him you’d agree if he asked you, he took the leap again. Only this time, he was successful. You agreed! Overjoyed and also embarrassed by the way he was a stuttering mess and there managed to be a crowd when he asked you. He couldn’t stop smiling from ear to ear. Shyly grabbing your hand and walking you away from the crowd, forgetting that he only asked you to the dance and not to date. So with an awkward chuckle, he lets go. When the night did come, he couldn’t stop pacing. One of the first to arrive despite his friends protests but he didn’t care. Standing by a table he watched as more and more walked through the door, his anxiety doubling as the time went on and no sign of you. But when you finally did, hair down and a part of it up. A nice flowy dress and flats to match it, your smile bright and gradient he felt himself grow weak in the knees.

He dreamed of this very moment and now that it’s here, what should he do next? He only wished to ask you out and never what to actually do when you said yes. With a slight shove from his friends, he sends them a glare and walks over to you. Awkward and ears and cheeks red the two of you dance to a slow song. The disco ball shines above you two and it seems like time stops. Taking in your beauty, Jeno can feel his heart beat in his ears. Taking another gulp to moisten his dry throat. Holding your hand gently and praying they won’t start to sweat. The proximity made him feel fuzzy inside. His other hand on your waist he tries to resist himself in pulling you in a hug. To hold you tight and call you his. To not lean in and kiss your rosey pink lips. For most of the night he had fun with you, so much fun he couldn’t stop smiling like a doofus. Like a little girl did he speak how he felt to his friends, “I think I’m asking her tonight.” And as the supportive friends they are, they patted him in the back and wished him good luck.

So he searched for you, and then wished he didn’t. He couldn’t believe his luck. Eric Sohn, another popular kiddo not really close friends with and he too is a soccer player. Just not in his team. And this same Eric was currently dancing with you on the dance floor to another slow song that began to play. And even though he couldn’t hear what you two were talking about, he knew what was asked the second he saw you nod your head excessively and the group of kids around you began to awe. Truly, he couldn’t catch a break.

4. WHEN YOU TUTORED EACH OTHER

“Can everyone be quiet please?” Jeno snaps, finally gaining some peace in the car. “She doesn’t even remember me so can we please just get going?” Jeno didn’t want to admit what he was feeling was getting the best of him. And it wasn’t fair to take it out on his friends but he just wanted to leave already. To hide in his room and sleep away the image of you. He successfully did it for a few years, surely he can do it some more. But the ignition hasn’t started, and it’s gotten eerily quiet. So much he can practically read his friends thoughts. “What?” He asks monotonously, “You should go talk to her.” “No.” With an exasperated sigh Haechan groans and begins to whine. “C’mon Jeno it’s obvious you still like her.” “Ok and? Doesn’t mean she likes me, I mean she doesn’t even remember me.” He huffs.

Just to think you didn’t even recognize him was only making him more upset and sad. All these years and nothing? Maybe you had short term memory loss or something. There was no way you didn’t remember him, I mean throughout the years the two of you spent some good time together. Making some memorable memories, were they not as meaningful to you as it was to him? Freshman year and at the brink of failing his English class, top of your class and was asked if you could give him a hand. And as the sweetheart you are, you agreed. He still remembers how his throat closed up on him when he saw you enter. He immediately stopped slouching and pulled back a chair for you. Organizing his stuff so there’d be space for you. The first few times were quiet as he felt embarrassed by how bad he was at it.

But then he realized you weren’t so perfect either, you struggled in Math. And he was great in that subject. And so for a fair trade you began tutoring each other. Either at school, before or during lunch, after school at his or your house. At times the two of you got distracted and began having random conversations and playful banter. Watching movies and even staying for dinner. The two of you got so close, you even shared your first kiss together. But it was an accident, at least the first time. Jeno wanted to teach you a dance move and when he encouraged you to try, your socks caused you to slip. Instincts kicked in and before he knew it, he was quick to grab you only to fall alongside you. Falling on top of you and lips planting full smash on yours, a shocked pause occurred. Not a muscle was moved and it seemed like the two of you were afraid to make the next move. By the next time you tutored there was some awkwardness but mostly tension.

And when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and came back to him standing up to stretch, he came face to face with you. Merely an inch away and as the two of you struggled to not look at each other’s eyes or lips, you two shared similar thoughts. You’d lean in and kiss again. He felt overwhelmed with emotions. He can’t exactly decipher what he’s feeling, the wonder of what your lips would feel like and here he is kissing them again only this time for real. Kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Leading you to your bed, ignoring the loud crunches your papers made. Sighing happily when you run your hand through his hair and pull away to take a breather before leaning back in for more. House with no parents, the two of you spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other’s arms.

That night, you took each other’s virginities.

The purity ring he once wore now dangled around your neck. Luckily your parents didn’t know what that was and assumed it was yours, but Jeno wasn’t so fortunate. He got grounded, berated and shamed. How someone so young could be causing such reckless behavior but at this point in time he was in too deep. He felt this way for a while but never acknowledged it but he knows now. And despite his parents saying he’s too young to know what he’s truly feeling he knew it was real. He knew his love for you wasn’t all in his head. And he certainly knew, he didn’t regret giving you his v-card. Something no one knew, not his best friend or anyone else except you and his parents. It was a shock when he gave you his ring, you assumed he’s been without his virginity and to know you weren’t the only one that lost it, you confessed to him the truth. Guilty, he looks down shamefully. “I should’ve known, I’m sorry it should’ve been special.” “But it was.” Cupping his face and lifting his head to look at you, you can see the twinkle in his eyes the second he glanced at you.

You notice how his pupils dilate and the puppy eyes take form, how at ease he gets and his hands itching to touch you. Yearning for your comfort. “I’m glad it was you that took it, wouldn’t want any one else.” You mumble and close in on his lips.

Leg bouncing as Jeno waits impatiently for Mark to start driving off he rubs the inch on his skin, his shirt slightly reveals his abdomen. The black and red ink apparent As it rests neatly above his v line, a tattoo of a stem with two cherries. A date on it with initials. Your initials. To symbolize the day he popped your cherry, a day he’s never forgotten.

“Well I’m sure she was just too tired, it’s busy in there. You should at least think about coming by some other time and getting in touch with her.” Renjun tries to convince but he and the others can tell their friend has already begun to think about all his memories of you. Even the hurtful ones. Like when he prepared to ask you out with a poster and a bouquet of flowers. The two of you were practically inseparable, already acting like a couple no way it can go wrong. But it did, horribly. He convinced you to meet him out on the track, where he thought he would be able to get some alone time with you but that wouldn’t happen when the kids from p.e would be using it for their run day. Jeno should’ve specified, he should’ve made sure it was clear when he gave some of his classmates each a rose to give to you. A trail until you found your way towards him, but not a single rose was given to you. No instead, to a completely different a girl. The popular girl who’s been heavily crushing on him since the 7th grade and never had her feelings reciprocated.

More and more students piled up, a crowd forming and as she made her way down to the last rose Jeno felt his insides fill with anxiety. Still completely unaware that the person nearing wasn’t you. The horror to see the crowd part way not for you but for her. A bouquet of roses in hand as she read the poster he had in his hands. Phones out, video recording and whispers of encouragement. And when she shrieks and shakes her head. The crowd went wild, clapping and whistling for the new couple. And as he stood there mortified with the chick’s arms wrapped around his neck he grew oblivious to you who merely stood a few feet away. Heart broken and hopes destroyed, feeling stupid for thinking he’d ask you to be his. To think that night meant a lot to him just as it did to you. So that’s why he invited you, you assumed. So that you could see how he’d prove to you that day meant nothing to him, and how easily replaceable you were. So with a broken heart, you turned around swiftly and wiped off the tears from your cheeks. A new profound hatred for him.

5. WHEN HE SAW YOU CRYING

For two years you went ignoring his very existence. A senior, your last and final year before leaving grade school. One more year before leaving the city behind, your childhood home and moving on somewhere far away. A new start for you. During those two years, you had tried to do your best with getting by but your hatred for the school increased. You grew to hate the homework, the teachers, the peers, everything about it brought wrath. The idea of having to go made you want to cry and only thinking about having to wake up and attend had you stressing. You didn’t know exactly what caused that switch but you had a hunch it was the day you cried over Lee Jeno. After the misunderstanding at the track he was quick to make it clear he wasn’t referring to her and even though he was met with a slap in the face and accusations of messing with her feelings, he didn’t care. His only focus was you and yet when he noticed your sudden coldness towards him it worried him tons. Avoiding him at all times, not responding to his text messages and even stopped the whole tutoring program.

You stopped going to his games and when his team mates girlfriend was around, you were no longer with her. It hurt him to know how easily he lost you, so close. So close and yet you had managed to slip through his fingers again. And even though you tried to prevent crossing paths with him, it seemed like that wasn’t his intentions. No he searched for him, purposely walking past your class to run into you. And during lunch where you’d stay in the library, he would too. Sitting from afar but looking after you. And the times you met eyes, he would send you a soft smile only to falter when you immediately looked away. To say his heart didn’t sting would be a lie, he could no longer focus during practice. The gym wasn’t doing much to keep himself from thinking about you and at night when alone with his thoughts, all he can reminisce about are the days he spent with you. Trailing over his finger and feeling the emptiness of his ring, it had him thinking. Did you still have it? Did you throw it away? He couldn’t dare check, worried his heart wouldn’t know how to deal with the pain of you tossing his ring. Not when it held so much value of what took place for him to give it to you.

For two whole years he was left in the dark. Did you see what happened? You must have, he asked you to be there. By the next day it seemed like the whole school found out about it even more when the videos went around. He wished he could explain to you it was all a big mistake. And yet, he was a coward. Tail tucked between his legs, he hid in a corner and bowed down because he was afraid of confrontation. Of the possibility of you rejecting him even after explaining he only has eyes for you. That he only loves you. And with that in mind, everything began to slowly slip. His grades, his social bar, his ambitions. He quit soccer despite all those who tried to get him to stay. He started turning in lots of late assignments and most times, never even bothered to do them. He found his way into drinking most weekends, and smoking in the empty parking lot. His mood definitely dampened over time. No longer in the mood to go have fun, only shakes his head No and goes home where he’d lock himself in his room for the rest of the day. He began getting into situationships, and as messy as it got he didn’t stop.

Eventually it’s how he got his playboy reputation. Always seen with a new chick by his side and when he was no longer interested, he tossed them aside. You on the other hand managed to move on, you found yourself a new guy. And for those two years, you dated. Many saw how serious you quickly got with him, complimenting how well the two of you were for each other. Made for each other. Just the sentence itself had Jeno rolling his eyes. Party after party, it’s all he ever hears the second while there: your boyfriend waltzed in. It seemed like only he knew how fake your ‘lovely’ boyfriend was being. How he enjoyed the attention he gained from girls, how he simultaneously flirted back with them. How his sweet boy demeanor changed the second you left and spoke vile about women like they were objects. A toy, and even though Jeno had no place to talk he felt enraged to hear the son of a bitch speak about you so lowly. You weren’t his, ‘bitch’ you’re his girlfriend not a dog. You’re not meant to be a distraction instead a human he should love and cherish. And as much as he wishes to punch the living shit out of him, he refrained from doing so. He was no longer in your life, he shouldn’t be getting involved in your business.

But when you cried that night. The night of one of the regular parties that happened on Saturday’s. When he was shocked to see you enter. You’ve always hated parties he knows that because you told him. And yet here you were, walking in completely lost and uncomfortable. Tugging your thin sweater closer to you as you’re in search for your boyfriend. His eyes trailed your every move and when he sees you go upstairs, he’s about to make his way after you but is stopped by a manicured hand. Feeling their other hand come behind his head and avert his attention. Pushing him up against the counter but his focus wasn’t on her. Even when she began to brush herself on him, he continued to divert his eyes over to the stairs. And when he suddenly sees you coming down and push through the crowd of bodies hurriedly and a hand over your face, he knew you saw something you wish you didn’t. Quick to brush off the random chick, he goes after you. Demanding the annoying people standing in the middle of the room to get out of his way and when he finally catches up to you outside, his heart breaks upon hearing your small sniffles.

“Y/n…” you heard his voice but this only caused you to look away pathetically. Feeling embarrassed that he’s seeing you in such a vulnerable state. Humiliated that you fell for your ex’s tricks and had to find out the hard way that he was just a pig like every guy in high school. “Go away.” You get out with a croak in your voice. But he didn’t, no he stayed. He sat besides you on the steps and stayed silent as he watched you with sad eyes. ���Stop pitying me.” “I don’t.” Scoffing, you wipe your eyes and roll them afterwards. “Of course you do, I’m crying over a guy who used me. Who cheated on me. I was just another chick he used, just like what you do.” A sting to his chest, he felt himself sobering up quickly. You weren’t wrong, you look down at his appearance he has changed vastly. Wearing almost all black, and clothes reeking of nicotine. Mouth smelling like beer and hair oily for the lack of regular washing. “I may not be the guy who should say this but, you deserve better. And I’m sorry that dirtbag couldn’t see how good he had it with you. That he made you cry.” He softens his eyes the second you turn to meet his. For the first time in two years his face was no longer cold stone. He wasn’t miserable or serious, he was at ease and a boy in love. A boy who silently begged for you to love him back.

“I’m sorry I made you cry.” His voice broke letting that out. The memory of seeing a small tear fall from the corner of your eye when the two of you met eyes from across the library. Right before you looked away. The last time you’d look at him for the next two years. Hands balled at his sleeves, his throat begins to tighten up, picking at his nails as he continued to stare into your orbs. Worried if he did anything else he’d break down. When he sees you let out a light chuckle, you wipe your tears away and dig something from under your shirt. Surprised when he sees the familiar silver ring, his purity ring. “Can you believe i still have it?” At loss for words, he averts his eyes from the ring to you again. “I thought the day you asked me to meet you at the track would be the day you’d ask me to be your girlfriend..” you chuckle hurtly at the memory. He could say something, right now. He should say something, but nothing comes out. So he waits for you to talk again, and hopefully he’ll find the courage while you do.

“But I was delusional, so I left. Because it was the only way I can move on. From you, from the hurt I felt. I thought getting into a relationship would help me do that but instead it only led me down to a path filled with more pain.” “Y/n…” he said desperately but you only shaked your head. “It’s okay.” You smiled softly at him. “I was wrong, and I moved on.” No, please don’t move on. Standing, you wipe off any dirt on your jeans and fixed your hair. “Think it’s best I never let another man in my life again. Love sucks anyways right?” Silent, he only nods merely just to agree with you. But it’s not what he’s thinking. Despite the pain he still wants to feel love. He still wants to love you and still does. No love doesn’t suck because despite it never going his way, he’s never regretted the special moments he shared with you.

About to leave, he stands and grabs your hand. “Y/n please wait-“ “Jeno!” He hears the high pitched voice call out to him. Raising a brow, you nod over to her. “Someone’s waiting for you mr. hotshot.” Shaking his head, he keeps a firm grip on your wrist and doesn’t bother looking back. “Please don’t go.” He pleads. “There’s nothing for me here-“ “Me. I’m here.” Stepping closer to you, he towers over you. A growth spurt that made him a good inches taller than you. “Funny, good to know you haven’t changed entirely.” Before he gets to explain that he isn’t joking, he gets pull roughly. Turned around and is met with the irritation on the girls face. “What the hell?! You’re supposed to be here with me and I find you outside with some chick?” “She’s not some chick!” Eyes widening, she scoffs and shakes her head. “So what is she your girlfriend now?” She asks sarcastically.

“So what if she was?” Surprised, she drops the attitude and huffs. “What?” Nodding, he feels all those sealed feelings begin to boil up. “You heard me.” Snickering she shakes her head. “C’mon Jeno who are you kidding, you don’t date. You only kiss and hook up-“ “Yes because I had no other choice given it was the only way to bury my feelings for her alright!” Shocked, she’s at loss for words. “That I’ve loved her since the first grade and nothing ever seems to go right because I only ever end up pushing her away and I can’t eat, think, sleep right because she’s always on my mind 24/7 and hooking up with nuisances like you was the only way I could temporarily forget about her. But that didn’t work because now I’m here potentially going to lose her indefinitely because you won’t stop cutting me off when I’m on the brink of confessing my feelings towards her and to finally ask her the question I’ve been dying to ask since I was 8 and that’s if she’ll do me the honors to be my girlfriend!”

An eery silence had consumed around him. Only the faint sound of grasshoppers and the beat of the music coming from inside the house. But it wasn’t until a voice broke it, did he feel the blood in him run cold. “What?” Forgetting you were there the whole time, he tenses up. Turning around slowly where he sees you standing there confused and surprised. His brain seemed to go blank, struggling to find the right words and when he watched you run off he could feel his heart shatter into a million pieces. So you really didn’t feel anything towards him anymore. He assumed. Brushing past the chick standing there awkwardly, he goes inside for a much needed drink. Grabbing the first bottle of vodka and downs a sip. He drinks, and drinks until the music only become sounds to him and he lost himself through the crowd. And even though he struggled to even piece together a coherent sentence, he seemed to sober up enough the second he finds your ex coming down the stairs with a girl in his arms. A smug look on his face, a hickey on his neck with her lipstick on his lips. This pissed him off, how could he be such an idiot to lose a gem like you. To ever think to hurt you. He saw red, he no longer cared what his friends had to say. Even when Jaemin and Renjun tried to get him to sit down and cool off he only shrugged them off.

He went straight towards the guy who hurt you. Roughly pulling him back by his shoulder, only a short hey escapes his mouth before receiving a hard punch to the jaw. That night, Jeno made his first ever felony and ended up behind bars for the night.

“Please just drive.” Jeno tells Mark and with a reluctant nod, he turns on the ignition and drives home. On the way there, Jeno was left with his thoughts. Silently begging to think of something else but all that flashes through his head is the taste of your lips. Your adorable smile, the contagious laugh and the warmth of your embrace. A single tear falls down his cheek and quickly wiped it. Even after all these years, when you ran away and never spoke to him again. When you didn’t even graduate at the same school and instead moved away, when he stopped seeing you entirely. After all that time, he’s still in love with you. Because as many came and gone, none managed to fill the void that occurred when you left. None could make him smile the way you did, laugh they way you did, love the way you did. And even when you feign to not remember him, he remembers you. And while you may have already forgotten about him, he didn’t because he never did. He loves you, so so much and it hurts.

6. WHEN HE SHOWED UP AT YOUR HOUSE

Seeing him after all those years felt like a time relapse. After a stressful shift, you were ready to clock off. Ready to tell whoever began to pile their stuff at your register to find somewhere else to pay but when you saw him. It’s like you couldn’t utter a single word. Your heart felt like it ran a 100 mph, you felt yourself heating up and breathing getting heavier. Would be recognize you? It has been almost six years since high school but you hadn’t change a lot, of course you matured but anyone who knew you would recognize you. And Jeno, he still looked the same other than his hair was now dyed and he was buffer. Jaw more chiseled. But it was him, it was the same Jeno. Your Jeno. And when you asked how they’d like to pay you made an effort to not look in his direction even making sure to have asked one of the other guys. Too anxious to meet him face to face, but he was the one who paid. The one who looked up at you, he recognized you. The way his cheery self butchered the second he saw you. How quiet he got, but you feigned ignorance. Pretended you didn’t remember him and only hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions.

You should’ve felt glad he didn’t, but you weren’t. And when you watched him quickly walk off leaving behind his card you made the impulsive act to call out for him. Finally looking at him, you couldn’t read his facial expression. He seemed, conflicted. And when he had since left, you were left alone with your thoughts. Making your way to the locker room where you would think back to all the memories you had with the man. You tried to move on from him, pretend he no longer existed and you thought you were doing a good job at it. But all those repressed emotions were hitting the surface, by the time you were headed off home you never would’ve known to prepare yourself to find the very man standing outside your doorstep. Head down with AirPods in, arms rested on his knees and he doesn’t look up until your headlights shine on him. Nervous and anxious, he’s quick to stand on his feet and play with the hem of his hoodie. Eyes widen when you get out, taking so careful steps towards him. There’s silence, and it seems like the two of you don’t know how to begin a part of Jeno is beginning to regret finding your address. Maybe you truly did forget about him and now thinks he’s some stalker waiting for you to come home.

“Jeno.” You say softly.

So soft and yet he still heard it. Heart rate jumping and throat closing in on himself. “How did you know I lived here?” A nervous chuckle, he cheeks become a light shade of pink. Balancing his weight on either leg, “Im friends with one of your old classmate buddy, she uh told me where to find you.” Ah, the very one who dated his teammate the goalie. “…So how you’ve been?” You ask after a moment of silence. But that’s not what he wanted to hear. At least not now, no he wanted to explain himself. Explain everything that went down years ago, ask you why you ran. Why you left. A part of him wanted to demand you some much needed explanations while the other wanted to break down and hold you tight. But he refrained himself from doing so, so instead he only nods and shrugs his shoulders. “Okay, I’m living life so that’s good.” “What are you doing here?” Chuckling, he looks around. “I’m still trying to figure that out myself.” A momentarily silence engulfs the two of you, staring at each other but the two of you begin to make quick steps closer to each other. Opening your arms and engulfing each other into your embrace. He hears you begin to cry, and to repress his he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I ran.” You manage to say out loud. “I’m sorry I made things worse.” A single tear falls from his eye, fisting his hands on your sweater and pulls your closer to him.

“No, I’m sorry I never made myself clear.” Pulling away, he cups your face. “I’ve liked you since the first grade, and as hard as I tried I failed. I failed to confess to you and when it was most important I messed that all up by making it seem like I was asking someone else when I wasn’t. I should’ve told you how I felt under better circumstances but I didn’t because I was filled with guilt and alcohol.” He sniffles and leans closer to your hand that’s raised to wipe the tears off his face. “I love you y/n, I’m sorry it took me more than ten years to tell you that. I’m sorry I was a coward and hurt you, and I’m sorry I’m too late.” He goes to move away from you but you don’t let go. Instead your grip on him tightens. “Why do you say you’re too late?” Unexpected by the question he stutters out an incoherent response. “I’ve always liked you Jeno.” Freezing, you smile at the confused state he’s in.

“You’ve always been oblivious haven’t you?” Feeling his cheeks warm up, he tugs the back of his hair and chuckles awkwardly. “I don’t- I’m not-“ “The only reason I’ve dated so much is to forget about you. I always wished you’d ask me to be your girlfriend. Always wished there was a chance you felt the same way, when the day I saw you and her…it hurt.” Feeling the guilt wash back up on him, he gently holds your hands. Rubbing soft circles on them nervous you’ll pull your hands away. “Which is why I cut you from my life.” Ouch. “But the night of the party, when you confessed your feelings about me, I didn’t know how to act. I couldn’t believe you liked me this whole time, I panicked and so I ran. I ran until I didn’t look back and it only made things worse.” Cupping your face, he tilts your head to face him. “I love you.” He says wholeheartedly.

“Ask me.” Raising a brow, you giggle and ask the question again. “What you’ve always wanted to tell me?” When the realization hit, he almost couldn’t believe it. Definitely not how he’d liked to ask you but he worries if he waited for the ideal moment then he’d never become yours. “Y/n…” he clears his throat. Hands beginning to sweat, “Will you be my girlfriend?” He hates how time seems to be passing by super slow. Every second is filled with dread, worry you’ll say no. Fear you’ll realize you don’t want this and reject him. But when he sees you grin and nod your head, a cheery yes all that worry is thrown right out the window. And instead, he picks you up and spins you around. “Yes?” He wants confirm, “Yes!” He didn’t ask your for hand in marriage and yet it still seems just as special. So much time went by, and just when he thought he’d never get the girl of his dreams. To confess his feelings, it did. Setting you down, he gives you no time to speak for he’s smashing his lips on top of yours.

Butterflies and fireworks go off, humming by the softness of your lips and your perfume hitting his nostrils. Like he just arrived in heaven, he’s ascending further the more he continues to kiss you. He loves it, loves the feeling so he deepens the kiss. Tilting his head, a hand behind your neck and pressing lips harder on yours. Moaning when coming in contact with your tongue. All his love and yearning for you has begun to spill through the kiss and it seems like you’re feeling the same. Feeling your hands pull him by his belt loops, walking forward until he leans you up against your car. He didn’t care who could potentially see, if anything he’d make it clear he’s now taken by the love of his life. The girl he’s been crushing on since the first grade, who has agreed to be his girlfriend. And when an elderly man walking his dog walk by and groan in disgust, he simply gives him a wink and presses his body on top of yours, in love with the whimper you let out. He wants to hear more of it, but he can’t push his limits. He just got you, he must be patient it’s the least he can do.

Pulling away to catch your breaths, he looks at you with a certain fondness. A smile on his face as he leans in and presses a kiss on your forehead, your cheek, temple and nose. “Mine.” He sighs contently on top of your lips before going back to kissing you. Spending another hour with you propped on your trunk and him nestled between your legs, lips locked onto yours. A perfect way to start your blossoming relationship.

Jeno hasn’t stopped showing his affection since you’ve said yes. Not caring what his friends had to say, even when they made kissy faces and poked fun at him for being so love sick. He loves expressing his love for you. It’s so obvious to everyone how much the man loves you, practically worships you. To every request you make, he obliges. With a simple plea and he’s on his knees for you. Dating for a few months and nothing has changed. Attached to your hip, he’s protective and caring. Helps with handing you things that’s too high for you, carries your purse and shopping bags. Moves the shopping cart as you grab the items. Brings in the grocery bags and refuses for you to carry any, opens doors for you and gives you pieces of his food with an excuse that he’s not that hungry. He cuddles you when he says he’s tired, cold, sick but really it’s excuses just so he can hold you. He nuzzles his face in your neck as a silent request to kiss him. Placing his head on your lap when he wants you to run your hand through his hair.

He even lets you dress him up, put crazy makeup on him and do any of the trends you see on Tiktok just to please you. So when his friends enter your home and sees you reapplying some of your lipstick meanwhile Jeno’s face is absolutely covered with your lip stains all over his face they point and laugh but he doesn’t care. A fuzzy hair band of yours pulling back his disheveled hair you fluffed up, and a loved up expression as he was reliving all the kisses you left on him merely a few minutes ago. As the time went on, his clinginess grew which meant more attention given. Such things like kisses and when those turned heated it would only be a matter of time before the two of you would have sex. But it hasn’t happened yet. That was until Jeno invited you to a dinner party, jaw dropped when he notices how gorgeous you looked. Hair and makeup done and the dress fitting so pretty on you. You look so good he couldn’t help but have you sit on his lap for most of the time, not trusting the strangers around you. Arms rested neatly on your lap, rubbing up and down your thighs. Biting his lip to hold back a groan when you moved too much.

A heated make out session in the bathroom ended in the two of you leaving sooner than the others. And when you arrived home, clothes were discarded until the two of you were bare for each other. The sheets over the two of you, dark room but the light of the moon shines through your window. Giving Jeno a perfectly view of you in pure bliss as he entered you. Quickened his pace after given the okay signal and pounded into you when you begged for more. Holding your hand that went to wrap around his neck and pressed reassuring kisses when he fucked you deeper. Arms resting in either side of your face, caging you in and lifting your leg to rest on his shoulder for better access. Leaning his hand down to run quick circles on your nub and asking if you were close. Softly kissing your face when you finally do come for him. “So pretty.” He mumbles and sets your leg down, only to be surprised when you flip him around. Sat neatly on top of him and having him through his head back and let out a loud groan when you sit on his dick. Grabbing your waist to steady you, he curses under his voice and admires how your breasts bounce when you do.

Pupils dilating even further when he stares at the base of his cock, how deep you take him. Loving how well his fits neatly inside you. Loving the way your warm walls tighten around him, in love when his tip makes a small dent on your lower abdomen and overall loving how well he’s pleasing you. So angelic, he wants to see you in this state for hours. And that’s exactly what he does. By morning, he’s calling in with no intentions of getting out of bed any time soon. Starting the fun from the previous night all over again. If possible he’s sure he’s fallen even more in love with you, and he was certain you were always meant for him.

So by the end of the year, he put a ring on your finger

[millicent-bystandr]

Sims Nostalgia

Look at this shot in all of its low-res glory. This is my legacy founder, John Carter. The metadata says it was taken on November 15, 2007. I mean, MY GOD, that was a long time ago.

I have no idea what got me feeling nostalgic all the sudden, but I've been thinking way too much this week about my old legacy story, reading some legacy stories I used to love, missing my old friends from the boolprop forums, and fighting the temptation to start writing again.

Is it weird to go back and reread your own stories? I did that last night and fell in love all over again with some of my sim characters. Not that I'm such a brilliant writer, but because I was remembering being excited about that story and where it was going.

But honestly, good lord, how did any of us who were writing big dramatic legacy stories back then think it would ever be sustainable? Between playing multiple households, storyboarding, staging and posing, and then writing, I have no idea how we found the time. No wonder most of the legacies I loved ended suddenly, with dramatic cliffhangers and dangling plot threads, mine included.

SIGH. You can't go home again, but I do wish I could get back a little bit of that magic.

And to any of my old boolprop or magic box friends who might still be around (100% sure most of them have moved on), DM me--I'd love to know you're out there. (I should mention that my name on there was leaths, instead of assuming anyone would remember who I am lol)

I thought the last day of the year would be a good time to indulge my nostalgia. Tomorrow I'll start thinking about how I want to spend my simming 2025.

So anyway, if you've read my ramblings this far, I'd love to hear if you have any stories or writers you miss from that era. I'm so glad this community is still going strong, even if it's changed so much.

[loverslantern]

The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: John realises where the demon will strike next so they head there to stop the next killing.

Warnings: Cannon violence

Word Count: 4.6k

Salvation

(Masterlist, Previous chapter, Outfit Board)

  The room is filled with John’s research. The walls are covered with post-its, pictures, newspaper articles, weather charts, and hieroglyphics all about the yellow-eyed demon. There are papers strewn across the desk with the Colt and shelves of hefty books lining the walls. “You know to anyone else this would look like a psychotic break,” I think aloud, examining the wall of information. “Well—”

  “Whatever stupid comment you’re going to make, don’t,” John cuts me off. I make a face he cannot see, mocking him.

  “This is it,” he continues. “This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we’ve been searching for this demon right? Not a trace, just…nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail.”

  “And that’s when you took off,” Dean concludes. He hasn’t stopped pacing since we got here.

  “Yeah, that’s right. The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation.”

  “Alright so what’s this trail you found?” he asks.

  “It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground,” he explains. “It's going after families, just like it went after us.”   “Families with infants?” Sam asks, leaning against a counter.   “Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday.”   “I was six months old that night?”   “Exactly six months,” John echoes.   “So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So Mom's death...Jessica. It's all because of me?”   “We don't know that Sam,” Dean defends.   “Oh really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure Dean,” he bites back.   “For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault,” Dean says, his voice lined with frustration.   “Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem,” he shouts.   “No, it's not your problem it's our problem!”

  “Okay. That's enough,” John commands, standing abruptly. Immediately they stop, backing down as they take breaths. 

  Sam breaks the momentary silence. “So why's he doing it? What does he want?” It’s an almost impossible question especially when one will never be good enough, it doesn’t bring people back nor make you understand. The most it can give is a direction on how to stop it if that. “The answer can range from chaos junky to wanting an army,” I answer.

  “I wish I had more answers, I do,” John adds. “I’ve always been one step behind it. Look, I’ve never gotten there in time to save…” He looks down with a frown on his face.   “Alright, so how do we find it..before it hits again?” Dean asks.   “There are signs. It took me a while to see the pattern but it's there in the days before these fires; signs crop up in an area. Cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked...and…”   “These things happened in Lawrence,” Dean finished.

  John nods, “A week before your mother died. And in Palo Alto...before Jessica. And these signs, they're starting again.”   “Where?” Sam asks   “Salvation, Iowa.”

********

  The roads seem endless as we head to Iowa; land stretching for miles. John's black truck leads the way through countless hours and misty roads until he suddenly pulls off onto the shoulder. Call it a learned habit or whatever else; either way we exit the Impala with haste, meeting a distressed John outside his vehicle. “God damn it!” he curses, kicking the dirt by his tires.

  “What is it?” Dean asks.

  “Son of a bitch!” he curses again instead of answering.

  “What is it?!” he tries again.

  “I just got a call from Caleb,” he explains.

  “Is he okay?” Dean asks, worry on his face.

  “He’s fine. Jim Murphy’s dead.”

  “Who’s Jim?” I ask. I know the Winchesters have many connections, yet it still surprises me how many they do have, especially when my father had little to none. I think he only had John by the time he married Mom, and that was really only an ‘I owe you.’ Turns out no one wants to keep in touch or be friends with the guy who married a Witch. “He’s a Pastor that would look after us sometimes,” Dean explains. It comes back to me a little: Sam mentioned calling Pastor Jim for information on their father months ago, and Dean telling me memories long ago in the faint autumn sun.

  “How?” Sam asks.

  “His throat was slashed. He bled out,” John answers. “Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place.”

  “A demon,” Dean concludes. His father nods. “The Demon?”

  “I don't know. ‘Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close.”

  “That doesn’t sound like something he would do though,” I chime in. “Why suddenly change the pattern even if he does think you’re getting close?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do we do?” Dean asks.   “Now we act like every second counts. There are two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week,” John orders.   “Dad that could be dozens of kids. How do we know which one's the right one?” Sam points out.   “We check ‘em all that's how. ‘You got any better ideas?”   “No sir.”  John nods, satisfied with that response. He turns to his truck and stops, his head hanging low. The last few days might be the most I’ve seen him upset. “Dad?” Dean says softly.   “Yeah. It's Jim. You know, I can't....” His face hardens, ridding his voice and face of sadness. “This ends now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes.”

  I tug on the bottom of my blouse, adjusting how it sits on my chest before walking through the door Dean holds open. He’d been quiet the entire way to the hospital, even when we dropped off Sam at the medical center, I worry it might be about Pastor Jim’s death or the weight of the whole yellow-eyed situation but I’m not sure.

  We walk over to the receptionist's desk, a pretty brunette sitting behind it. He doesn’t make a face or remark about her looks which is even more concerning. “Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?” she asks, shining a perfect smile. 

  “Hello,” I smile back, feeling a burning gaze on me. “I’m Agent Spears and this is my partner, Agent Taylor,” I pull out my ID from my pocket, showing proof of my lie. I look at Dean, his eyes shooting up to my face from wherever they were, his eyebrows raised and eyes a little wide. My eyebrows furrow and my nose scrunches a little with my confusion. He looks at my ID and then at the woman in front of us. “Right,” he mumbles, fumbling with the pocket of his suit jacket for his ID. He pulls it out, flipping it open quickly with a boyish smile. “We…” I look back at the woman. “We were hoping to look at some files…”

********

  Our file reading had been cut short when we received a worrying call from Sam informing us of his vision. It hadn’t taken us long to get to the motel room to regroup and talk; Sam sitting with his head in his hands at the table while his father sat on the end of one of the queen beds. Dean sits on the edge of the other bed, the sleeves of his white button-down rolled up to his elbows; we didn’t have time to change into normal clothes when we essentially rushed over here. And I stand a little awkwardly by Dean, arms crossed against my chest after hearing everything Sam has to say. 

  “A vision,” John repeats flatly.

  “Yes. I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling,” Sam explains through gritted teeth, messaging his temples.

  “And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because…”

  “Because these things happen exactly the way I see them,” Sam finishes.

  “It’s almost like he already explained that,” I remark, earning a sharp glare from John. But, it’s not my fault he’s not getting with the program.

  “It started out as nightmares. Then it started happening while he was awake,” Dean elaborates, rising from the bed and crossing to the counter behind his brother to get more coffee.   Sam winces. “Yeah. It's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon the stronger the visions get.”

  “Alright. When were you going to tell me about this?” John asks, his words directed at his eldest son. Both boys pause, looking at their father.

  “We didn’t know what it meant,” Dean answers.   “Alright, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me,” John replies firmly.

  The coffee pot and mug slam back onto the counter, discarded as Dean strides towards his father. “Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad, I called you from Lawrence alright? Sam called you when I was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the lottery.”   “You're right. Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry.”

  “I’m sure you can watch your own tone Johnny Boy,” I interject, an unamused smile on my face. I’ll give it to him, I never thought I’d hear him say he was wrong ever let alone multiple times in the last couple of days. But, I’m also not fond of his accusatory tone as if this was the boy's fault.   “Look guys, visions or no visions, ‘fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight,” Sam cuts in. “And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through.”   “No, they're not. No one is, ever again,” John reaffirms. Then, the ringing of a phone cuts through the atmosphere. “Hello?” Sam answers.

  “Who is this?”

…

 “Meg,” he states. The name is like a knife being plunged into my gut. It is a reminder of the cruelty I put her through, how it was my fault she died as she did. The boys tried to convince me that it wasn’t my fault but they were wrong. Her death may not have been on purpose but it was certainly my fault. And now she’s back. That night is a reminder of what I am and all that I’m capable of. No matter how much I try to hold back and no matter how good I am I can never get rid of what is in my blood.

  “Last time I saw you you fell out of a window,” Sam answers. Again there is no blame put on anyone, it’s framed as an accident or something that happened and yet it does not feel that way to me. “...Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop.” She should be dead and yet she isn’t. Maybe this should feel like a second chance or rid me of some guilt, but it doesn’t. Sam looks over to his Dad before he answers whatever question he was asked. “My Dad. I don't know where my Dad is.”

  He hesitates and then the phone is put into his father's hands. “This is John…I'm here”   There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “Caleb? You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go.”

  It doesn’t take a genius to figure out she’s torturing this man. 

  “…I don't know what you're talking about,” He answers steadily. “…Caleb. Caleb!... I'm gonna kill you, you know that?” The boys step closer to him. “Okay…I said okay, I'll bring you the colt.”

  My eyes widen.   “It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there…That's impossible. I can't get there in time and I can't just carry a gun on the plane.” There’s a silence and a grim look on his face before John hands back Sam’s phone. He runs a hand down his face as he paces, explaining that Meg demanded he bring the Colt to a warehouse in Lincoln alone otherwise everyone they’ve ever known, every hunter friend, every loved one will die.   “So you think Meg is a demon?” Sam questions.   “Either that, or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter,” John replies.

  “‘How else could she have…um… survived,” I mumble.   “What do we do?” Dean asks.   “I’m going to Lincoln,” John declares.

  “What?” Dean exclaims.   “It doesn't look like we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die, our friends die.”   “Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got, you can't just hand it over,” Sam points out.   “Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a coupla of vampires no ones really seen the gun, no one knows what it looks like.”   “So what, you're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?” Dean asks.   “Antique store,” John clarifies.   “Cause that’s so different,” I remark. I mean, it is but in this instance, there might as well not be a difference. 

  “You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?” Dean interjects.   “Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference,” he reasons.   “Yeah but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?” Dean points out, his voice firm.

  “I just...I just need to buy a few hours, that's all.”

  “I know you’re supposed to go alone but I can go with you and offer assistance from afar,” I offer.

  “No,” he says firmly. “You need to be with the boys.” I never thought I’d hear him say those words but with the way he directs them at me so sharply I know what he means. I can offer a level of protection against the yellow-eyed demon that wouldn’t be there otherwise.

  “You want us to stay here, and kill this demon by ourselves?” Sam asks, figuring out what his father meant as well.   “No Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want...I want Mary alive. It's just...I just want this to be over.”

********

  I can’t stop my leg from bouncing as we sit in the Impala, watching the house where the demon will strike next. The boys are better at hiding their nervousness, which may only be good in this instance, but I’m unsure. 

  John was long gone by now. His truck was packed with a fake gun and an arsenal of weapons. The real gun sitting between Sam and Dean in the front seat with only four bullets. Promises of “don’t die” and “finish this fight” were shared before he left. 

  Maybe I shouldn’t be nervous or maybe that’s a stupid remark. There’s a whole powerful and methodical demon to take down and a handful of people to protect in the process. I can’t mess up and I certainly can’t falter. I won’t. This is also why, for once, I chose simple clothing, opting for an all-black outfit that would be easy to move in. This had to go right.

  And no offense to the boys but I’ve been tuning out most of their conversations. I don’t need “what ifs” I just need focus, my ears tuned to the radio playing music quietly and my eyes trained on the house, waiting for the telltale signs.

  “You doin’ okay back there, sweetheart? You’re awfully quiet.”

  My eyes immediately follow the voice; so much for tuning them out. “I’m always quiet,” I defend.

  He smirks, somehow able to even at a time like this, “That’s not true.”

  “Hey,” I frown.

  “Didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he adds. “‘You nervous?” It’s a question, yet the way he looks at me through the rearview mirror makes me feel like he already knows the answer and is just asking out of courtesy. 

  “‘Course I am,” I answer. “And I know you guys are too…Which is fine! Nervous is good…probably.”

  “Well, don’t worry that pretty head of yours, we’ll be just fine. I’ll protect you,” he declares, winking. He’s all smug in the way he says it and the way he smiles. Yet, I’m sure he’s just trying to get me to smile. And it works. I smile, scuffing and shaking my head even though I know for a fact that he wasn’t joking about protecting me. “There she is,” he drawls, eyes dipping down. My nervousness does ease, which should be stupid when all he did was talk to me. Maybe that’s pathetic and maybe I don’t care if it is. 

  “Dean...ah...I wanna thank you,” Sam says, joining in on whatever this is.   “For what?” He responds, eyes breaking from the rearview mirror to look at his brother.   “For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And uh...I don't know I just wanted to let you know, just in case.”   “Whoa whoa whoa, are you kidding me?”   “What?”   “Don't say just in case something happens to you. I don't wanna hear that fucking speech man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody. Except for that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?” Any softness Dean had moments ago seemed gone now. The light not-joking-joke was serious and ever so evident. This is a serious situation and I almost feel guilty for feeling a moment of ease, especially when the real fear of death lingers over all of us. Things can go wrong here really quickly; the Demon might not die tonight. The only thing I can promise and ensure, above all else, is that my boys aren’t dying.

********

  “Dad’s not answering,” Dean announces, his phone held to his ear. 

  “Maybe Meg was late,” Sam suggests. “Maybe cell reception’s bad.” 

  Of course, he may be right, there's always the possibility; yet it feels like nothing more than an attempt to be positive, to see things optimistically. 

  “Yeah, well—”

  “Wait. Listen,” Sam cuts Dean off. He rolls the dial on the radio, the breaking static getting louder.

  “The lights are flickering,” I add, eyes trained on the house. My heart hammers in my chest at the knowledge of what lurks ahead.

  “It’s coming,” Sam concludes.

  Nothing more needs to be said and no more evidence needs to be presented for us to haul it out of the car. I beeline it to the front door, my hand on the handle and the lock undone before my body is fully near it. The boys take the lead, taking careful steps down the hallway. Then, a man lunges forward swinging a bat into a lamp. It shatters to the floor with a resounding clash.

  “Get out of my house!” He yells, positioning himself to swing again. He has poor aim, a goatee, and a green sweater over a button-down, which doesn’t make for the most intimidating combination. 

  Dean surges forward, grappling with the man and the bat while Sam pleads for him to calm down. He fights against Dean who easily takes control, swinging him against the wall with a thud, the bat pressed across his throat. “Be quiet and listen to me,” Dean orders sharply. “Be quiet and listen. We are trying to help you.”

  God, that was kind of hot—Wait. Priorities, I remind myself. “Come on, Sam,” I nod, moving to the stairs. Dean can take care of himself and we had other things to worry about.

  “Charlie? Is everything okay?” A woman's voice cuts in just as I put one foot on the bottom step.

  “Monica get the baby!” Charlie yells frantically. 

  “Don’t go in the nursery!” The Winchesters yell at the same time. 

  I rush up the stairs, taking two at a time, throwing back another, “Sam!” In an attempt to urge him along. I hear a faint threat from Charlie and some light commotion as I move down the long corridor, seeing a flash of white rush into a room at the far end. I push my legs forward, breaking into a run. I skid into the bedroom, catching only the syllables of a sentence before I throw myself in front of the dark-haired woman clad in a white nightgown. Immediately, I launch a burst of energy toward the dark figure sending it back into the wall. I don’t have the gun, all I can do is keep it busy. 

  “Get out of here!” I yell, looking back only briefly. But, suddenly I’m flung sideways, my shoulder hitting the wall hard before I fall to the floor, picture frames rattling above me. “Go!” I order, pain erupting in my shoulder and down my arm as I pick myself up.

  “But my–”

  Yellow eyes shine as it raises its hand.

  “I’ll get your baby, just go!” 

  I intercept it again, throwing another blast that doesn’t seem to do anything more than halt and irritate it. Monica leaves the room. The baby erupts into tears, the commotion certainly startling it. The Demon tries to move me again with a flick of a wrist but I brace myself, using my powers to hold me in place as I lift my own hands and attempt to move it away from the crib. But, it barely shifts. And yet it feels like I’m fighting against gravity, a heavy invisible force trying to force me back as if weights were tied to my limbs. Even so, I push more of my powers forward, harsher and faster yet it still doesn’t budge even if it feels like a house was being thrown on top of me. 

  Then, Sam bursts through the doorway, freezing as he takes in the Demon. It seems to react to him, turning to him slightly. The Colt is raised and the shot rings in the air. The baby’s wailing becomes just as piercing as the gun. The Demon disappears into smoke, the bullet landing in the wall behind it, marking the wall. 

  I nearly collapse as the invisible weight is lifted off of me, my bones feel like jello–almost as if they too were giving up on me. I slump forward slightly, pulling myself toward the crib.

  “Where the hell did it go!” Sam yells.

  I ignore him, focusing on getting the kid out first. Before my hands even touch the wooden sides I can feel what is to come, the fire licking at my hands before there's one at all. I don’t know whether it's some sort of intuition or what Missouri had shown me all those months ago, either way, I quickly and carefully scoop up the crying baby, the crib exploding into flames as I step back and shield the child from it. The windows explode, flames crawling outwards—feeding on the oxygen.

  The moment I step into the hallway strong arms encircle me. He’s behind me, urging me forward with a hand on my middle back as we race out of the house, smoke filling the place rapidly. Sam and Monica aren’t that far in front of us, I guess she only left the room before and not the house itself.

  My lungs greedily take in clean air as we make it outside. The baby is taken from my arms and into the rightful one of her mothers. Charlie puts his arm around his wife’s, eyes scanning both his girls. “Thank you,” Monica says with tear-filled eyes. 

  I’m glad everyone was safe and yet I feel almost defeated, like there was more that could’ve been done. And I’m sure that same thought is going through the boy's heads too. All that we can do is watch as the house is consumed in flames, harsh oranges and reds licking at what is meant to be a place of safety. But, there in the burning nursery, through shattered windows, is a mocking dark silhouette that can only be one being.

  “It’s still in there!” Sam yells, starting for the front door.

  Dean grabs him quickly, holding him back, “Sam. Sam, no.”

  “Dean let me go, it’s still in there,” he argues, struggling against his hold.

  “No. It’s burning to the ground, it’s suicide.”

  “I don’t care,” Sam yells.

  “I do!’

  And just like that, something changes. I can’t explain what it is exactly, but it’s heavy and it’s real. Once more, all we can do is watch as the flames rise again, the Demon disappearing. 

********

  Dean paces the motel room, his phone to his ear as it rings for the umpteenth time. “Come on Dad, answer your phone damn it,” he grumbles. Given the last year his disappearance doesn’t seem out of character but because he was on this whole mission his lack of contact is worrisome. He hangs up with a huff, “Somethings wrong.”

  “Okay,” I sigh from my chair, “We’ll find him…again.” Whatever is wrong we can fix, or at the very least handle it better than the yellow-eyed demon (hopefully.) 

  Dean nods silently, stress and frustration clear in his features. Then, his attention goes to Sam who instead of answering stares at the wall with his classic bitchface. Dean tilts his head down, trying to get his brother's attention. “‘You hear me? Somethings wrong.”

  “If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this.”

  “Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life,” Dean counters.

  “You don’t know that,” Sam answers firmly.

  “The building was going down you wouldn’t be able to see let alone breathe long enough to even get to it or do anything,” I add.

  He shakes his head, “‘Doesn’t matter.”

  Dean walks towards where Sam sits on the end of one of the beds. “So what, you’re just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?”

  He stands up abruptly, towering over his brother. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re damn right I am.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen, not as long as I’m around.”

  “What the hell are you talking about Dean? We’ve been searching for this demon our whole lives. It’s the only thing we’ve ever cared about.”

  “Sam, I wanna waste it. I do. Okay? But it’s not worth dying over.”

  “What?”

  “I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed then I hope we never find the damn thing,” he doubles down.   “That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom,” Sam argues.   “You said it yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back.”

  Sam snaps. He grabs Dean by the collar of his shirt and shoves him hard against the wall. I stand quickly, ready to intervene but Dean throws me a quick look that tells me to not. 

  “Don't you say that, not you!” Sam yells, his voice breaking a little. “Not after all this don’t you say that.”   Despite the anger thrown at him Dean answers with soft, quiet words, “Sam look. The three of us...that's all we have...and it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together man...and without you…or Y/N, or Dad…”

  “Dad,” Sam slumps, letting go and turning away. He runs a hand down his face as he walks across the room. “He should have called by now. Try him again.”   Dean presses a couple of buttons, then raises his phone to his ear. It’s quiet for two beats before his face contorts in anger. “Where is he?” He spits.

                                     ......TO BE CONTINUED......

(Next Chapter)

Tag List: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra @fablesrose @ada--44 @bonkydarnes @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara @mxltifxndom @stilesxreid @chaotic-luvrs @tiggytaylor @deanwasscaredbyacat @imaginexred @daisychaingirl @yasmin12312 @squishytap @i-am-fckn-sleep-deprived @wecangetlostinthepurplerain

[thesnadger]

Saw an occupational therapist and for the first time I felt like I was talking to someone who actually understood my pain, who didn't find my symptoms baffling and (I swear, I hope, I pray) actually may have found the root cause for both the spinal injuries and the constant, widespread muscular pain that can't be explained by the spine.

It's the best thing and the worst thing ever. The best thing because for the first time I feel like I have hope that this is a problem that can be fixed and treated, and not just a mystery where I either hope it stops on it's own one day or I somehow learn to live with pain for the rest of my life.

It's also the worst thing because I wish so badly I'd found this person a year ago, and because understanding the actual problem has made my body feel fragile to me in a way that stresses me out hugely and makes my pain actually feel worse.

The short term is that I'm probably going to have a very difficult time for a while as I process all this knowledge and slowly get an idea of what the future and the present will look like for me. But like, God, for the first time in a year, thinking about the future actually makes me feel like there's hope, and a reason to believe my pain can get better and even be gone someday.

God I want to experience a day without pain. I want several days in a row without pain. I want to be pain free so often that I don't even think about it, or stress about it going away. God I want that, please, please, please.

[spencerwayne-todd]

Keeping up with the Waynes, Christmas special, part 2

(Resolution to the slight angst last part, happy ending!)

(Christmas morning, Wayne Manor)

Damian: NO!

Tim: YES!

Damian: CLEARLY, IT SAYS "DAMIAN" ON THE TAG!

Tim: CLEARLY, IT SAYS "DRAKE"!

Alfred, taking the present: Clearly, young sirs, it says "Duke". I believe master Dick is to blame for this atrocious handwriting.

Dick: Hey! My handwriting isn't that bad!

Steph: Except that it is, and nobody knows whose gift is who's because of it.

Dick: Et tu?

Steph: Something in that sentence was wrong.

Cass, walking over to Bruce: Dad. Gift.

Bruce, taking the present: Aww, Cassie.

*Bruce opens it to find a handmade navy blue scarf with his initials sewn into the corner*

Bruce, tearing up: Did you make this for me?

Cass: *nods*

Bruce: *hugs her while crying*

*Crash*

Bruce: Dick! Be nice to Jason!

Dick: NOOOO! You can't make me!

Bruce: Alfred can.

Dick, sitting down: Touché.

Jason: It's his fault. Milk chocolate is not better than dark chocolate. It's not a hill you need to die on.

Dick: How terribly dull for you to live your life without any hills to die on.

Jason: I have plenty of hills I'd die on.

Dick, raising his voice and standing on a couch arm like a stereotypical orator: You! on your vast, flat, barren plains of compromise, acceptance, and accommodation-

Jason: WHO'S COMPROMISING??!!

Dick, even louder: BARREN PLAINS! BARREN, WHILE I REIGN SUPREME OVER THE LUSH, ROLLING HIGHLANDS OF INCREDIBLE OPINIONS I HAVE ELECTED TO STAKE MY ENTIRE IDENTITY ON!

Jason: *Starts running at Dick*

Dick, quickly, as Jason tackles him off the couch: THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH ALL THE FUCKS I GIVE ON SELECT TOPICS!

*More Crashes*

Bruce: Ok, let's continue with the presents!

Damian, unwrapping a present from Selina: A bell?

Selina: Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.

Damian: Oh, I am aware. I've created a robot that rings 40 bells 80 times per hour.

Duke: Oh, no.

Damian: I've been running it nonstop for three years.

Bruce: Tired Dad Sigh (TM)

Damian: Soon, all of the angels will have wings.

Tim: Oh, god.

Damian: Heaven's hierarchy is in shambles.

Duke: No

Damian: The chorus weeps

Bruce: Please stop.

Damian: God knows I'm coming for his throne.

Me: OK! That's enough. August! You haven't opened anything.

August: Oh, sorry! I was reading this news article.

Bruce, hopeful that one of his children is normal: Oh? What is it?

August: "Spiders blamed after broken siren played creepy nursery rhymes randomly at night to UK townsfolk."

*Bruce visibly loses all hope*

Steph: Could any word in that headline get any more terrifying?

Me: Probably. Multi-legged horror hamsters, anyone?

Damian: *raises hand*

Bruce: *Lowers it*

*All the gifts were opened, food had eaten, and Christmas movies put on the TV as the family gathers to watch in the living room. Jason notices Spencer's absence and goes to their bedroom, finding her sitting on the floor. He closes the door and leans on the frame*

Spencer, facing the fireplace: Jay, I- we need to talk.

Jason: I figured. You never leave Christmas movie night.

Spencer: Two months ago, I was on a mission in Rome. While on that mission, I was stabbed, as you know, and I was severely injured.

Jason: I remember.

Spencer: What I haven't told you is that I found out later that I was pregnant. The wound cost me the baby and any chance of having more. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before. I just didn't know how.

*Jason walks over to Spencer, and sits down behind her, pulling her into his arms in a back hug.*

Spencer, sighing: How long have you known?

Jason: Gideon sent me the file last night.

Spencer: You must be furious.

Jason: No. I understand. I do wish you had told me before, but I understand why you didn't.

Spencer, scoffing quietly: You do?

Jason, pulling her closer: You were scared. You knew that it would hurt, and you didn't want to imagine what might happen. You knew you could trust me, but could you trust me? Would I be comforting or would I lash out in anger and drive a wedge between us? You told yourself "That's silly! Of course he won't be angry at me!" But, what if I was? Would you be ok? Would we be ok? Emotions are so hard. Why can't everything just go back to normal?

Spencer: Every single one of those thoughts have been on replay in my head for the past two months nonstop, in that exact order.

Jason: I know. But you don't need to be scared. It hurts, but it's going to be ok. You can trust me with your whole life and all of your secrets. I promise you I will never lash out at you. I will always be here to comfort you. I'm not angry at you. You're going to be ok. We're going to be ok. Emotions are hard, but you're stronger than the hardships you face. It's ok if nothing is normal. I'm here for you. I love you.

Spencer: I love you, too. *kisses Jason* I think we'll make it in time for the second movie.

Jason: Wonderful plan, love.

(@august0bone)

[falling-star-cygnus]

link click hc that Lu Guang instinctively cuddles things in his sleep [like Noe from VNC but without the super-strength] and Cheng Xiaoshi loves it. like- he was full on ecstatic when he found out

aka- the 3 times Cheng Xiaoshi gets Lu Guang to subconsciously cuddle something + the 1 time Lu Guang sought it out on his own

1: The first time it happens, they've only been official friends for a handful of months.

Sure- some could argue they were official friends from the moment Lu Guang helped Cheng Xiaoshi paint an entire building without any pay... or compensation.. or really anything more than a soda. Or they could've been official friends since that moment on the basketball court. But Cheng Xiaoshi would argue right back that it didn't count.

He's heard the things Qiao Ling says about him, he hears all the things people say about him, actually, because most of the time he's in the room when the people are saying them.

And maybe she's right when she says he gives his trust and time away too easily, to people who won't give it back, and maybe her folks and their friends were right when they called him an ungrateful kid all those years ago.

But he knows. He knows how a friendship works, and he knows he has it with Lu Guang when the sight of pale white hair soothes this itch under his skin. And he knows when someone is holding him at arms length.

Cheng Xiaoshi glances at his dozing friend, who's curled up on the couch with his nose tucked into the dusty cushions, and huffs a quiet, tight sigh.

He doesn't know what he did, aside from accidentally nailing him with a basketball, to make the other boy distrust him so much. There was an undeniable distance between them, one that felt like it shouldn't exist at all.

Maybe it was just because their friendship was still tentatively new, practically a baby compared to his relationship with the landlady. Maybe Cheng Xiaoshi was asking for too much too soon but...

When the light brushes it's warm fingers over Lu Guang's fair features.. when the pale haired boy thinks no one is watching... he looks far older than his years. Tired in a way that goes beyond insomnia, tired in a way that Cheng Xiaoshi knows with his full chest.

Lu Guang, in those quiet glimpses of time, looked like he was mourning.

Cheng Xiaoshi reaches out, leans over the back of the couch and reaches his hand down to brush pale white hair off a clammy forehead.

"I know I said I'd wait... but I wish you'd trust me more," he breathes into the air between them, quiet like a secret as he gently traces his finger down the crease that seemed like a permanent fixture between grey brows.

More than anything, Cheng Xiaoshi wished that whatever was haunting Lu Guang would at least grant him peace when he slept- grant him a single moment of reprieve.

He's about to pull away when his friend makes a small, sleepy sound.

Lean, slender fingers come up to weakly grasp Cheng Xiaoshi's wrist. It's a meager grip, one that the dark haired boy could easily pull away from, but the mournful sound Lu Guang makes when he tries actually makes something hurt in his chest.

He lets Lu Guang tip his head into his palm, internally freaking out as the pale haired boy tucks his entire body around Cheng Xiaoshi's arm. The crease between his brows smoothes out, his breaths get deeper, and he actually looks his age for the first time since the dark haired boy hair met him.

"Phone- phone, phone, phone," Cheng Xiaoshi whisper screams, digging in to his pockets with a near manic intensity as he tries to keep his other arm still, "Oh my god-"

How is this the same boy that held Cheng Xiaoshi like he was a live bomb? Held him like a live bomb in the hands of someone willing to die, sure, but like he was expecting the dark haired boy to stab him in the chest and leave his body cooling by itself.

....maybe Cheng Xiaoshi wasn't as distrusted as he thought.

To the surprise of no one, Lu Guang is just as pretty on camera as he is in real life.

CXS: OH LANDLADY~ CXS: *one picture*

QL: !! QL: lol he's like a cat! QL: 💗😺💗

Cheng Xiaoshi's arm goes numb, but it's completely worth it for his new wallpaper. Call it payback for that photo of him in a cosplay skirt.

2: The second time it happens, Qiao Ling only gains ammo for her cat allegations.

Lu... had not been in a particularly touchy mood that day. He kept looking at his hands when he thought Cheng Xiaoshi's attention was elsewhere, and when the dark haired boy tried to grab one to lead him out of his head he...

flinched.

Not his usual startle, that got less frequent as he acclimated to living with Cheng Xiaoshi's loud mouth, but a full body flinch. He had pulled away and left the room.

Lu Guang almost never left the room, even if he got fed up dodging the dark haired boy's attempts at glomping onto him. He would usually just- stand there.. or their attention would get called to something else- he never outright fled.

Unless...

"GUANGGUANG HATES MEEEHEEHE," he wails into Qiao Ling's lap.

"E-eh? Xiaoshi!?"

To his sister's credit, she doesn't whack him off right away. She's more than a little confused, maybe a little worried about his sanity, but her hand gently pats at his head- wary of the bandage still present.

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you.." Qiao Ling tries, looking around for any sign of said issue, "Lu Guang could never hate you-"

"Then he's definitely mad at me! He hasn't let me get close all day and- aCk!"

They really needed to dust their floors...

Cheng Xiaoshi sneezes as his nose makes friends with the hardwood.

"What was that fo-"

"Of course he's mad at you, you idiot!"

"H-HUH!?"

As if no longer caring for his brutal head injury, his sister flicks him right in the middle of his forehead. While he goes back to wailing in pain- physical this time, as he rolls on the floor- Qiao Ling tears him a new one:

"I told you to stay in the studio! You-"

The thump of unsteady feet cuts into her sentence, and suddenly Lu Guang is peeking his head around the corner- familiar wax paper bags held in his hand.

"Cheng Xiaoshi?"

The dark haired boy stops wailing, but he doesn't let go of his head as he turns in a weird sguiggle to see his friend. He barely blinks before slender fingers- and bruised knuckles, how did he miss that?- are prodding carefully around the lump still vaguely present above his ponytail.

"What's wrong? You were..." Lu trails off, pulls his shaking hands away and clears his throat, "..sorry. I- I thought.."

Cheng Xiaoshi catches the wrist attached to those bruised knuckles and doesn't let go when his fair friend tries to pull away and hide it again.

It's not fair, he thinks, that Lu Guang is allowed to care for him but he can't offer the same courtesy. Not fair at all.

The siblings haul the pale haired boy up to his feet and sit him on the couch, staunchly ignoring his sputtered protests as they set about their separate tasks. Qiao Ling distributes the milk tea [except he can't ever recall telling Lu Guang his order], and hands Cheng Xiaoshi the first-aid kit, and the dark haired boy makes sure Lu Guang doesn't run away again while he treats his hand.

If that involves hooking his ankle over Lu Guang's knee, then- he didn't get his usual amount of physical contact today, so Lu could deal.

"Haven't you ever thrown a punch before!? How did you bruise yourself this badly?" he scolds, taking immense pleasure in the cowed look his friend sports, "Guangguang-"

"You were in the hospital-"

"That's no excuse-!"

Whatever Lu Guang was going to say gets cut off when Qiao Ling shoves the straw of his milk tea into his mouth- partly to distract him from the sting of antiseptic, partly to stop whatever self sacrificial bull that was inevitably going to fall out.

Because it wasn't enough for Lu to be pretty, no no noooo, he had to be nice too. And get Cheng Xiaoshi things like milk tea, and like anime, and cats.

Cheng Xiaoshi channels all his focus onto gently applying the blue and white cat plaster, because he could buy nice things for Lu Guang too, over the worst of the bruising. Honestly, it's not going to do much for a bruise but hopefully it'll make his friend a bit happier.

Something, something, placebo effect- Qiao Ling was talking about it once.

Cheng Xiaoshi can still tell Lu wants to bolt.

So he sidles up next to him, practically traps him against the arm really, and heckles his sister into a round of online PVP. He even lets Lu Guang pick his character, though he's used to a completely different playstyle and loses each round. Which is the excuse he uses when Qiao Ling beats his ass ten ways from Sunday. Again.

In the warmth of the sun behind him, with Cheng Xiaoshi's thigh pressed to his, the pale haired boy succumbs to an inevitable cat nap- open novel falling loosely from his slender fingers.

Cheng Xiaoshi catches it, barely, before it can thump against the ground- struggling between keeping up with the fight and not losing his friend's place- and...

Ah.

The semi-loud [he turned his volume down when he noticed Lu dozing off] theme of defeat plays from his phone, accompanied by large red letters spelling out K.O. He almost doesn't care though, when it was caused by soft white hair brushing his cheek and an even softer cheek on his shoulder.

Lu Guang's hand, that had previously been holding his oh-so-precious novel, had curled around Xiaoshi's lower arm while his other gripped onto the sleeve of his upper arm. Just like last time, it was feeble, but oh.

This was not good for his heart.

Distantly, he registers himself making a squeaky- prolonged sort of inhale, and his arm trembles with the effort of keeping completely still and it takes Qiao Ling forcefully shutting his jaw with her hand for him to chill.

"Oh my god-" Cheng Xiaoshi wheezes, dropping his phone onto the couch cushions [he's careful not to drop the novel though], "It happened again!"

"It's happening again," she corrects, scrambling for her own phone, "Guangguang..."

If there was one thing the siblings could agree on, it was that Lu Guang was adorable and ethereal and it really wasn't fair how he could be both without even trying.

"...you'll send me those photos right?"

"Duh."

3: The third time it happens is completely on purpose.

Well- not on Lu Guang's end. But, regardless! An experiment demands results and Lu introduced too interesting of a hypothesis. Who knew his best friend was such a secret cuddlebug?

Well- he was a secret [was it a secret or did Xiaoshi just never ask...?] coser too, so maybe it was par for the course. Lu Guang and secrets.

Anyway-

Cheng Xiaoshi is standing dutifully just outside the living room, occasionally casting glances at Lu's dozing form. It was just around midday, which meant the sun was hitting the cushions in just the right way to keep the pale haired boy content and lazy. In Cheng Xiaoshi's blue and white sweater.

Yeah, he wasn't that oblivious. He knew he wasn't getting that shirt back any time soon. Or ever. Damn.

Qiao Ling sidles up next to him, her phone poised to begin the final phase of their cuddlebug theory.

See, they tested if Lu Guang would do it awake [he wouldn't. His self control was too strong] and they tested if he would reject physical affection when he was awake [he would, but only if Cheng Xiaoshi was being annoying] and now. Now it was time.

To be fair- Cheng Xiaoshi kind of owed Lu Guang for the last test too. Which had inadvertently led to his friend being in a... rather uncomfortable situation. It wasn't on purpose, obviously, normally the siblings were very good at keeping Lu away from touchy strangers.

Sometimes one would just- slip through the cracks.

Regardless, Lu Guang had earned his current doze and even more so had earned another cat gift. Not that he had to earn those, Xiaoshi was more than happy to keep buying them.

Speaking of- his sister sidles up next to him, phone at the ready.

"You got the goods?" she asks.

Cheng Xiaoshi pulls out the longish, white cat plush he had seen in the window on his way home- embellished with blue eyes and forget me nots on the flank- and nods.

The final cuddlebug test... was it just human contact Lu Guang sought out when asleep? Or... would he cuddle anything? These were pressing concerns!

Also Lu Guang could never find out about his album of sleepy pictures. Ever. Or he'd undoubtedly make the siblings delete them. Xiaoshi wasn't doing anything with the pictures, nothing nefarious at least, but for some reason the pale haired boy always seemed uncomfortable having his picture online.

It was hard to notice, if you didn't know him, but Cheng Xiaoshi liked to think he was an expert in Lu language by now. And he noticed things. Like how Guangguang would only let his picture be taken by Qiao Ling or yours truly.

So maybe he wouldn't make Cheng Xiaoshi delete the album. But hey, Xiaoshi should be allowed to keep embarrassing photos too! Equivalent exchange or whatever it was that blond pipsqueak said! He didn't really get a good look at what Lu was reading.

He creeps forward, trying to keep his footsteps light. His socked feet helped, as well as the years he spent playing basketball, but sometimes-

creeeak.

The floorboards would do that.

Lu Guang snuffles slightly, but Qiao Ling opens the curtains a bit wider and he settles down.

God, he was best friends with a cat.

Alright.

Finally, Cheng Xiaoshi finds himself in a position very similar to the one he was in when this all started. Behind the couch, and reaching down. There's just big enough of a gap between Lu and the cushion that Xiaoshi can set the kitty plush down without disturbing him too much.

The results are immediate.

The second the soft fur of the plush brushes his cheek, [which was arguably softer, Xiaoshi would say] Lu Guang was curling into it. It was too goddamn cute, god, why did he think this was a good idea. He was going to have a heart attack before he even hit 30.

The pale haired boy brought his arm around the cat plush, burying his nose somewhere between the ears, and brings his knees up. His breaths even out from a light doze to something truly peaceful.

This might've worked better than Cheng Xiaoshi's arm.. huh.

That kinda made his chest hurt a little, in a distinctly more painful way than an abundance of affection.

Xiaoshi goes to pull his hand away, which had still carefully been resting on the scruff of the cat, to let his sister get some unobstructed pictures [and snag a few of his own] when Lu makes another sound. A sad little sound.

A sound that makes Cheng Xiaoshi freeze.

Because slender fingers are holding onto his jacket sleeve again.

It's a grip closer to his hand than his wrist this time, not really much of a grip at all, but it still stops Cheng Xiaoshi cold.

Qiao Ling is having the time of her life taking pictures.

So... experiment inconclusive?

+ 1: There's something tacky under his nails.

It's caked over Cheng Xiaoshi's fingers and palms too, so deeply engrained in every groove and arch and whorl that it cracks when he curls his fists.

He can't get it off.

Water runs and runs and runs and runs until the basin is pink and overflowing and drenching his socks in the blood of someone he doesn't know.

Or- does he know them? Who is he? Who's hands is he washing?

The scene around him changes, breaks away like static as he finds himself back in the living room. Their couch- who's couch?- is splattered with bright red paint. Thread hangs from the ceiling, looped in nooses and strung across cork boards and holding photos. A blood moon paints everything like a darkroom, but the light doesn't feel safe at all.

Then the bodies appear.

Lu Guang on the couch, Liu Min strung from the ceiling, Emma on the floor by the blond's feet, Li Tianxi by the windows, and so many more. Faceless people and limbs sticking out from under the floorboards and furniture and there's so much blood.

It's no longer just caked to hands, it's on his face. It's in his mouth, on his clothes-

The photos develop with startling intensity, full of people he never knew personally but that he's been. It's all too much, too soon, too many pieces of information that click into a truly ugly overexposed piece, too many lives-

His foot hits something fleshy, something that warms his sock with thick, cloying intensity.

When he looks down, he sees his own face.

Cheng Xiaoshi wakes up with a scream on the tip of his tongue.

His blanket twists around his limbs, creating a damning sort of cocoon that makes him want to just to throw himself off the side of the bed and get to Lu Guang or a mirror and check if they're both still alive-

Unfortunately, he neglects to remember where he was sleeping. Thin arms wrap around Cheng Xiaoshi's middle before he can splat into the hardwood.

"This-" Lu Guang huffs behind him, fruitlessly trying to drag his friend back onto the mattress, "is why you sleep on the bottom bunk."

Right..

Cheng Xiaoshi scoots backwards until he doesn't feel his stomach swooping- his mind still reeling and his hands still tacky. He.. vaguely remembers now. Why he was in Lu Guang's bed.

Lu Guang-!

The startled yip his pale haired friend let out would be cute in another circumstance, but right now Xiaoshi only cares about finding a pulse. That dream had felt too real, too vivid, and- and Cheng Xiaoshi needs proof, okay? He just needs..

There's nothing but smooth skin when he jerks Lu's sleep shirt up.

"What are you-!?"

"It's gone..." he mutters, trailing his thumb over the spot where there should be a thin scar, but Cheng Xiaoshi finds nothing but tensed muscle. Or- muscle adjacent. "Why is it gone..?"

Lu Guang looks terrified when Xiaoshi meets his eyes, with an odd amber glow passing over his soft face.

It's only then that he realizes he's practically groping his best friend.

"ack- Sorry! Sorry," he sputters, pulling away just as abruptly as when he jumped him, "I was just- I was so sure..."

"It was just a dream, Cheng Xiaoshi."

Slender fingers grab onto both sides of his face, forcing him to meet weirdly determined kitten grey eyes. Lu Guang holds his gaze until he nods. And then he nods more emphatically.

Yeah- yeah. Seriously- why would Lu Guang have a knife scar? And he's never even met someone named Emma or Li Tianxi- he thinks he might've heard about Liu Min on the news before, briefly, maybe. But..

But it felt so real. And personal. Like- like maybe he had lived it before, lived as those people and watched- watched them die.. had seen himself die-

"-Xiaoshi." Lu Guang shakes him out of it and presses his forehead to his, miming deep breaths, "It was just a dream. Everyone is okay."

Just a dream.. just a dream. Right. His pale haired friend takes one hand off his face to press one of Cheng Xiaoshi's to his chest- over his clothes this time.

God, he can't believe he just manhandled- he'll worry about it in the morning. When he's not desperately focused on the slightly too fast thump-thump-thump under his fingers. Then he'll think about Lu Guang's very soft, very unscarred skin.

"Go to sleep, Cheng Xiaoshi."

....he reeeally hopes he didn't say any of that out loud.

If he did, it doesn't look like Lu Guang cared all too much. At least, it didn't look like he cared enough to pull away as he maneuvered the two into laying down again. And buried his nose into loose black hair.

Cheng Xiaoshi wheezes, astounded by his luck. This- Lu Guang never cuddled him! Not consciously! He- oh, he couldn't wait to-

"No one will believe you," his friend murmurs, sleepy and warm and devious, "Sleep, Xiaoshi. Or I'll make you go back to your own bed."

For a second, Cheng Xiaoshi believes his fair friend. But he feels the slight trembles of slender fingers on his shoulders- the jackrabbit heartbeat under his ear and the shallow breaths on his hair, and he thinks Lu needs this just as much as he does. Xiaoshi smiles.

"Liar."

[echoflowerwhispers]

HUMAN and GODS/DIVINE AU I made a year ago

@scri--bble @sokemysty sorry guys but this was all I found in my secret stash of old drawings 😔

The human is Killer and the demon thing is Nightmare (idk why his eye magically came back in the first drawing he isn't supposed to have it lmao)

Ranting under the cut

I remember the plot was that Killer (in university) summoned a demon as a joke thinking nothing of it and then Nightmare showed up. Nightmare was basically bound by contract to fulfill the wish of the person who summoned him so he couldn't leave so Killer made the most of it. His wishes where to 1 not get kicked out of uni for his bad grades 2 not to kill himself until the end of the year and 3 to get a partner before the end of the year (???). Nightmare decided that was too complicated and Killer would have to give him something in return. The thing Nightmare wanted was for Killer to chop the oldest tree in the forest (cuz Dream trapped Nightmare's power inside it or smth idk).

Anyway Nightmare decides to turn himself into a human and go to the same uni as Killer cuz that would make it easier to help Killer with his grades or smth idk. But then Dream realises Nightmare found someone to release him and also turned himself into a human and went to the uni to ensure Killer won't free Nightmare (and Cross is also there to guard Dream).

They eventually have a confrontation in the bathrooms (because that's normal??) And it's revealed that Cross used to be bound by a deal (like Killer is now) but Nightmare killed him when he didn't keep his end of the bargain. I think something more dramatic is supposed to happen cuz Killer then gets really upset and has a fight with Nightmare in which he decides to chop the tree (even tho Nightmare didn't do jack shit to keep his end of the deal) and he wants to do it to get rid of Nightmare but when he actually tries to chop the tree he realises Nightmare can feel the pain of the tree so he doesn't chop it completely (despite Nightmare telling him to finish the job). Anyway he gets sad cuz he doesn't want to hurt Nightmare cuz he's like his only friend or whatever.

Nightmare then helps Killer actually get what he wanted but when the end of year comes and Killer still doesn't have a partner and Nightmare kisses him (???) And they become partners ig??? And Dream frees Nightmare cuz he was good or smth???

...

Yeah idk what i was thinking when I made this lmao

Anyway if yall want maybe we could remake the AU ✨️together✨️ but I'd be fine with forgetting this ever even happened lmao

[ohdorothea]

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info here! Lyrics for the songs and FAQ under the cut!

Timeless lyrics

Down the block, there's an antique shop

And something in my head said, "Stop," so I walked in

On the counter was a cardboard box

And the sign said, "Photos: twenty-five cents each"

Black and white, saw a '30s bride

And school lovers laughin' on the porch of their first house

The kinda love that you only find once in a lifetime

The kind you don't put down

And that's when I called you and it's so hard to explain

But in those photos, I saw us instead

And, somehow, I know that you and I would've found each other

In another life, you still would've turned my head even if we'd met

On a crowded street in 1944

And you were headed off to fight in the war

You still would've been mine

We would have been timeless

I would've read your love letters every single night

And prayed to God you'd be comin' home all right

And you would've been fine

We would have been timeless

'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this

So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine

We would've been timeless

I had to smile when it caught my eye

There was one of a teenage couple in the driveway

Holdin' hands on the way to a dance

And the date on the back said 1958

Which brought me back to the first time I saw you

Time stood still like somethin' in this old shop

I thought about it as I started lookin' 'round

At these precious things that time forgot

That's when I came upon a book covered in cobwebs

Story of a romance torn apart by fate

Hundreds of years ago, they fell in love, like we did

And I'd die for you in the same way if I first saw your face

In the fifteen hundreds off in a foreign land

And I was forced to marry another man

You still would've been mine

We would have been timeless

I would've read your love letters every single night

And run away and left it all behind

You still would've been mine

We would've been timeless

'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this

So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine

We would've been timeless

Time breaks down your mind and body

Don't you let it touch your soul

It was like an age-old classic

The first time that you saw me

The story started when you said, "Hello"

In a crowded room a few short years ago

And sometimes there's no proof, you just know

You're always gonna be mine

We're gonna be

I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray

We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made

And you'll say, "Oh my, we really were timeless"

We're gonna be timeless, timeless

You still would've been mine

We would've been

Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944

You still would've been mine

We would've been

Down the block, there's an antique shop

And somethin' in my head said, "Stop," so I walked in

🫶🫶🫶

Foolish One lyrics

My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand

Chances are, tonight, you've already got plans

And chances are I will talk myself to sleep again

You give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high

Wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right

And I will block out these voices of reason in my head

And the voices say, "You are not the exception

You will never learn your lesson"

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

You know how to keep me waitin'

I know how to act like I'm fine

Don't know what to call this situation

But I know I can't call you mine

And it's delicate, but I will do my best to seem bulletproof

'Cause when my head is on your shoulder

It starts thinkin' you'll come around

And maybe, someday, when we're older

This is something we'll laugh about

Over coffee every mornin' while you're watching the news

But then the voices say, "You are not the exception

You will never learn your lesson"

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will learn the hard way instead of just walkin' out

Now I'm slidin' down the wall with my head in my hands

Sayin', "How could I not see the signs?"

Oh, you haven't written me or called

But goodbye screamin' in the silence

And the voices in my head are tellin' me why

'Cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings

I'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring

And you will say you had the best of intentions

And maybe I will finally learn my lesson

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will learn the hard way instead of just walkin' out, oh-oh, oh, oh

La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la, oh

La-la-la-la-la

Ain't never gonna come

Ooh, you will learn the hard way now

Foolish one

Sittin' 'round waiting for confessions of love

They ain't never gonna come

And thinkin' he's the one, you should've been walkin' out

Foolish one

The day is gonna come for your confessions of love

When all is said and done, he just wasn't the one

No, he just wasn't the one

🫶🫶🫶

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!

Put in the tags your interpretations or propaganda for a specific song! Tags will be used to decide what songs may be saved if there are extra slots in the next round!