#have a snippet of my future fic

[papercuttragedy]

hi I love your Solygbm headcanons, do you have any more headcanons for the skeleton brothers?

Hi, thank you so much for taking the time to ask! And, lucky you! I have another backstory. It's how Sans and Tops became friends. Sorry if it took a while. I took a lot of breaks and spoilers for my later re-adaption for this fiction. Coming soon!

~~~~~~

So, even when Mar (Sans' mother) was still alive and well, Sans was a bit of a friendless kid. Sure, he got along fine with his brothers (mostly) and yeah, he was decent to anybody who had the time (tolerance, really) to talk to him, but overall, he was often at home with his mother to keep her company, while Wingdings searched high and low for any sort of day job to keep them structured. She was actually the one who taught him all sorts of jokes, and he loved every single one of them. He even tried to come up with his own (due to his age at the time, 7 or 8, he wasn't at all great, but Mar enjoyed it dearly and even helped him with more original ones).

After Mar was brutally attacked by a group of monsters that fateful summer night (whether of Asgore's affiliation or not, we'll never know) and died a painful and slow death from those injuries, Sans had a mental shutdown.

He wouldn't talk or look at anybody for days on end. His already friendless personality developed an unusually aggressive behavior towards all to leave him alone. Which, unfortunately, worked. Any slight mention of that incident or even of his mother in general would make him furious and helpless and just full of self-hate.

One day, a few months after Mar's murder, his newfound loneliness caught the attention of older, shit-headed kids who felt the impulse to mess with somebody. I'll never know who exactly escalated it, but eventually, one of the kids says something triggering, which escalates to a 1 on 3 fight. Sans, despite his strength, is easily overpowered, but before a beating can occur, a blue bunny monster, 2 years older than Sans, (and one that Sans had rarely seen, but never really talked to) managed to use his wit to get the boys' hands off him and whatever other half-ass strength God gave him to dispel that fight and leave those small-minded bastards to run off, (presumably not to get caught).

Sans, still saddened and extremely pissed of what one of the kids said to him, begins to quietly leave, though it only causes the bunny boy to follow him, who tries to engage in conversation and see if he's alright.

At first, Sans ignores him, but soon he can't stand the "coddling" anymore, and simply tells the rabbit to "go away" and how he doesn't want his help or pity. This, in turn, pisses the bunny boy, who's confused by what's his deal and how Sans would rather let himself get hurt and unintentionally (without any knowing context) asks if that's what his mother taught him to view himself. This re-angers Sans, and with that, he punches him hard. The bunny boy stays in shock for a moment and then shoves him back in defense. A full-on boy fight happens in that neighborhood alleyway, and by the time both boys are tired, Sans has lost one of his adult teeth, and the bunny boy, a chunk of his ear.

They stay like that for a while, and as Sans breaks into a helpless sob, the bunny leaves him for a bit and takes something from his rendor and gives him a nice cream from his homemade work, something that was influenced from humans.

The following went something like this:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The stranger's voice sounded more persistent.

"C'mon. Take it. You're upset."

Sans snarled at him (or at least tried to).

"Fuck off."

"I will if you just take it."

Agitated, hungry, and far too exhausted to fight back anymore, Sans used his remaining upper body strength to snatch (though his hand trembled far too much to give the aggression he wanted to show) the red frozen thing from the bunny's hand, and took a large bite.

The texture was cool, crisp, and yet a sweetness covered his senses from head to phalanche. He froze, and for a moment, the bunny tilted his head in response.

He probably thinks I hate it.

"Think it's nice?"

Sans didn't bother to respond but simply gave a slow, affirmative nod without looking at him. He looked the type that would boast. A satisfied hum could be slightly heard afterward, somewhat confirming this.

"Well. I'm glad ya like it. Took me all day to get the taste perfected. It ain't much, but I hope it makes your day somewhat less shitty."

Sans searched for any sign of deception or condescension in that cheerful tone. Surprisingly, and thankfully, it wasn't.

"...thanks."

"No problem. If it's okay with you, I can walk you home in case those goons come back for a reround. It's dangerous out here, day or night. Does your mother even know you wander alone out here -"

The remaining sentences died off as soon as Sans felt his gaze return to him, and the gut-wrenching look of misery and hate resurfacing. He wanted to cry all over again but willed enough strength to not give any sort of satisfaction.

After what seemed forever, all that could be heard was a simple "Oh."

"..."

"I- I had no idea. I'm so sorry. I really am."

Took you forever to read the room.

Sans felt himself impulsively wanting to say that thought bitterly, but whatever could come out was interrupted by the bunny boy again.

"I know what you feel. I lost my mother too, recently. About 2 to 3 years back. It's not that long once you think about it. I only have my brother now."

Sans stared, slowly taking the time to look at the bunny again, seeing instead a downtrodden face that stared at the dirt that stained his already dirty clothes.

"I've only got my brothers too."

"Huh. No father?"

"Barely knew him. Wingdings never wants to talk about him."

"Wingdings?"

"My older brother."

"Oh. And your other brother?"

"Papyrus. He's about to be 4 soon."

"I'm really sorry."

"Don't be. It ain't your fault. I'm sorry, too. For being a dick...and for your loss as well."

"Don't be. It ain't your fault either."

....

The bunny turned his face up to look at him, and Sans finally truly looked at his face. They stared at each other, and suddenly, the bunny let out a goofy chuckle and said; "You look not half bad without that tooth there. My mama would have called you a ruffian."

Sans snorted before instinctively rolled his tongue to the spot where the now empty gap in his mouth remained. He couldn't but be impressed.

Wingdings is gonna kill me.

"Speak for yourself. It ain't gonna come back anytime soon. Neither with that nick in your ear."

The bunny placed a hand to cover that ear. His smile spreading farther. "At least it looks cooler."

"Really? No way."

"Oh no?"

The bunny paused again, his smile becoming more gentle as he slowly retracted his hand from his ear and lent it out in a greeting manner.

"Name's Tops."

Sans paused again, and for a moment, he felt as if it were another trap for him to fall into. But, that face was so genuine that it didn't seem likely.

So, hesitantly, he offered his hand and clasped it into a firm shake. Sans felt a smile he never knew was there grow.

"Sans."

[gatzbright]

tell me our story

dnf fic, 2k, one shot, rated m [established relationship, fluff, talk of the future and children]

George closes the door softly and leans back against the soundproof padding. Upbeat tones fill the air, resembling the beat he’d felt earlier, and Dream’s recorded voice follows. It’s twenty-thirty-six, I’ll probably have some kids, I’ll teach them not to do the same stupid shit I did … George stops breathing.

[Or, George hears Dream's new lyrics and it starts a conversation they were both longing for.]

[i-am-beckyu]

Writing for me atm be like this:

and this

and also this

Oh and can't forget this!

Yeah writing has been going great recently......

[charlottedabookworm]

#27 - Memory

Feat Nadir

legit the easiest prompt i've written in like a week as soon as i sat down and thought about it this showed up in like 15 mins

Cousin, Nadir writes.

I am a selfish being, yet I find myself wishing that you would also remember. That t’would not just be I that remembers our time together in the Host, that you would not ache for the oath you believe to be broken, that you would understand-

No.

Heat dances at the end of his fingertips and parchment curls and fades, consuming itself until all that remains is ash. Brushing it aside, Nadir brings forth another sheet. Nahbdeen, he begins this time.

I am sorry. I never wished to hurt you, yet I have. I wish for nothing more than to have been able to join the Host at your side once more as we promised. I am sorry that I cannot join you and that I cannot explain why. I am sorry, brother, but it is necessary. Even if you never forgive me it will be worth it for-

(His brother, screaming, begging for aid as his skin rippled- his bones crack- he-)

Ink splatters across the page.

He swallows.

Nahbdeen bin Pashe,

Do you remember when we climbed the cliffs near our homes as boys, brother? We found ourselves stuck but halfway up, our arms unable to pull us higher yet also unable to lower ourselves down. We fell and you had to run for aid when I landed badly. You came back with a member of the Host and they carried me back to Yedlihmad and we swore, that night, on my sickbed that one day we would be just like them.

It is raining and I find that my leg aches. It has me reminiscing for our past.

I am sorry that I am not there. I should be there. I should-

His leg throbs, a familiar ache that pounds in time with his heart. Rain thunders down outside of the window. Candlelight flickers.

Nadir stares at the words on the page and sighs. Here he sits, in the dead of the night with shaking hands, unable to sleep. Every time he closes his eyes he sees his brother-

He sees the worst day of his life in every blink and so, here he sits agonising over the wording of a letter he is too much of a coward to send. Nahbdeen would not wish to receive it, even if he would dare.

(It is worth it, he tells himself. He will live and so it is worth everything)

With a flicker of his aether, another page turns to flame.

Brother of my heart,

I miss you.

I am sorry

[falmerbrook]

I have an idea for a skyrim longfic that I really like, but one of the biggest hurdles to actually writing it is that I straight up have to do research on the relevant lore in the same manner I used to do research for college, and it doing so gives me the ick. I thought I was done with that stuff but alas...

[thetarttfuldickhead]

🌹 :)

Greetings dear heart, and lots of love for indulging me!

“All right, come on.” Jamie doesn’t get up. “What now?” Plaintantive. “You’re getting your hug, then you can take a shower while I make us some fucking dinner.” “I was joking about that. Just being a dick.” “Yes, you were but no, you weren’t. Come here.”

[firewoodfigs]

❄️ 🌤️

BRING IT BABY

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

We've still got a long way to go before we get there, but I quite enjoyed writing this silly little piece last night:

“You know, I realise there’s a lot I don’t know about you,” she ventures nervously, trying to keep the accusatory edge off her voice. “I feel like you’re always asking about me, but I hardly ever get to inquire about you.”  He smiles. “That’s fine. I’m not a huge fan of talking about myself.”  “Me neither,” she responds, wrinkling her nose. “But…”  But what? She yearned for a mutual intimation of truths? She longed to build some sort of emotional intimacy that transcended beyond a one-way street; that wasn’t just predicated on her own immediate needs?  “You’re always demurring and deflecting,” she continues, hoping she sounds less critical and more blasé. What she would give to have Roy’s social skills now; he would’ve executed this perfectly. “And prevaricating. Almost like a politician.”  He laughs, paying her no heed as he continues driving down the highway. “That’s a lot of big words for a lumber like me.”

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

Sometimes I worry that when the time comes, I won’t know how to grieve over someone who’s caused me so much grief. That the only thing I’ll feel is relief. From being set free, from finally having my wings unclipped.

fanfic asks

[xawkward-ariesx]

There was another wince on the other end as he settles on what sounds like one of the parlour couches. "We can only deal with one problem at a time brother, and right now the witch is an actual risk while Saint Caroline is only a probable future problem."

Future fic, You feel too much and nothing at all.

[webstersdiary]

(The Nixon asker)

Okay❤️

Yay❤️

:)

i see that the ask that destroyed itself has returned mysteriously now lol

might be something fun posted for you in the next 48 hrs....

[shrinkthisviolet]

Talk Shop Tuesday: How have you found writing the same scenes from a different PoV for i love you (i'm sorry), and would you ever write a different PoV fic again?

It was an interesting thought experiment! Rewriting events from Barry's POV, and also getting to expand on those episodes and include things Morgan wouldn't have seen, was pretty fun.

I will say that I don't often enjoy writing repetition tho, so rewriting the same portions was at times tedious. So idk if a "different POV" fic that's this repetitive would happen again.

However, different POV fics in general will probably happen again in this AU, simply because there will likely be certain things that Morgan is not present for but the reader needs to see (ex: one of my WIPs that'll be posted much later is a Jesse POV fic chronicling her journey up to 2x16* or so. Part of my efforts to develop her more as a character...and explore the Morgan&Jesse relationship from her angle too. It won't be too repetitive since these two don't have a lot of overlapping scenes up to 2x16*, so it'll hopefully go smoother than the writing of this fic did)

*that episode number is not final 😅 just an approximation

talk shop tuesday!

[starmocha]

I have no friends that play lads and after the trailer with Caleb my mind is in ruins and all i can think is arranged marriage between Colonel Caleb and his general's daughter. Ughh the tension and the dramaaaaa.

Thats it, thats all i had to say, thank you for coming to my ted talk (i really needed to yap about that to someone) 😂😂😂😂😂

🥹 Anon~ come back. Let's chat some more. I'll entertain all of your Caleb brainrots 🫶 You should also know that I saw this message this afternoon while I was out shopping.......the high-pitched gasp I had let out in public, because why is this right up my alley 😭😭😭 Ok I originally thought out like the whole situation in bullet points, but writing this one scene gotten out of control, because why did I get so into it, so I guess...consider this a snippet of sorts (it's kind of messy, but I was rushing)? 🫣 (or should I polish this up and repost it as an actual fic? I'm really digging this premise, if I'm honest ����)

You didn't have a say.

You didn't agree to this marriage. The General—your father, you remind yourself, often feeling emotionally estranged from the man who has never once raised you, viewing you as secondary to his military career—has arranged for you to wed his colonel.

Colonel Caleb. He is young, ambitious, and with a bright future ahead of him. He will rise through the ranks quickly, many believe. No one is surprised that the young man is betrothed to the general's daughter. It seems only right that such an esteemed union should happen, bringing two honorable families together.

You didn't have a say.

The General—your father, you correct yourself again, your nerves getting the best of you—is walking you down the aisle, his arm looped around yours—tightly. The organ is playing the Wedding March. Why does it sound like a dirge?

All eyes are on you, the blushing bride in her beautiful pristine white, lacy long-sleeved demure wedding gown. You didn’t choose this. You didn’t want to wear this dress. You didn’t want to wear this style. This isn’t you.

You didn't have a say.

The guests are all part of the military. You don't know these people. They're the General's—Father's—acquaintances. His peers, his colleagues. Subordinates and superiors. They are all acquaintances of his. Who are these strangers?

"Don't mess this up," he whispers under his breath as you approach your waiting groom, dressed in his most formal uniform for this nuptial. This is his only fatherly advice as he gives his one daughter's hand away—to a man she doesn't even know.

You don't have a say.

The ceremony proceeds without a hitch. You didn't look at your groom, or rather, you barely registered the man in front of you. You had moved through the motion, did everything you were supposed to, just like in the pre-rehersal ceremony, but you weren't there. It was like your mind had slipped away, and your body was just moving along on autopilot.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest declares.

Your mind returns, and you still when he kisses you. There is cheering and applause. You aren't happy. Is he happy?

You close your eyes, just letting this happen. It will be over soon. Just let it happen.

You don't have a say.

His arm loops through yours, leading you back down the aisle. There is more cheering and applause, and as you leave the church, the sun shines brightly on your marriage, and flower petals are tossed in the air, raining down over you and your groom.

There is so much joy and congratulations. Why then does it feel like the end of the world?

You don't respond, your face unwittingly tucking away into his arm as he leads you away for the wedding reception.

You don't even remember the reception. Did it even happen? Did you eat? Danced? Were there speeches or well-wishes? What did the wedding cake taste like?

You don't remember.

It was mid-afternoon when you had left the church, but now suddenly nightfall came without warning. How did that happen?

You exit a car, your hand in his.

This is a hotel. Right. A hotel.

It's your wedding night. A marriage is consummated on the wedding night. That is how it typically goes.

You have to consummate your marriage. You have to...sleep with your newly-wedded husband. Your husband. Caleb.

You didn't want to consummate this marriage. You didn't even want to get married. But you couldn't say no. You couldn't say no to any of this, and now, you know you also couldn't say no to him.

You don't have a say.

His hand is so much bigger than yours, you notice, as he holds yours, silently guiding you to your honeymoon suite.

Every step, every action, brings you closer to that moment. You barely register anything, not even hearing the beep when Caleb swipes the key card on the digital lock of the suite.

You're led into an extravagant suite. There is a vase of red roses and champagne chilling in an ice bucket, all courtesy of the hotel.

Still, you don't feel like you are in the moment, being completely lost in your head. You have to sleep with him. You didn’t want to marry him. You don't want to be married. You don't want to sleep with him. You don't want him.

You don't have a say.

He pours you a glass of champagne. You drink it, hoping it will calm your nerves. It doesn't. You feel like you are slipping, thoughts running haywire.

"You look very beautiful," he says, his hand brushing away the loose strands of hair that framed your face. His hand cups your face, his lips on yours before you even realize what is happening.

He sets the glasses to the side, taking you to bed. You sit on the edge next to him, his lips on yours again. You're not responding. He stills, but just for a moment. Did he notice? He continues, his lips along your neck, his hand reaching behind you for the zipper of your wedding dress.

You feel a chill.

He undresses you, lays you on the bed, completely exposed to him. You're not registering anything, breathing shuddering as he looms over you, slowly undressing himself now.

This is happening. You can't say no. Just go with it. It will all be over soon. Just do your duties. Just drift away, and it will all end soon.

He leans down and kisses you again, and you don't respond. His hands explores you, and you close your eyes, trying to think of anything but this moment. You don't even realize that you are tensing until he stops.

"You're...crying?"

You gasp, eyes opening in shock when he brushes your tears away. He looks hurt. Why?

He kisses your forehead. "We don't have to do this," he reassures you.

You don't understand. This is expected. You can't say no. You couldn't say no to any of this. You can't say no to him either.

"We...don't?" You find your voice, as small and scared as it was.

There is so much sadness in his eyes. Why?

He smiles. There is no joy. He smiles and shakes his head.

"But...I...have...to....we have to..."

He is confused. "Says who?"

Is he really expecting an actual response? You feel lost and confused.

"Every...everyone," you answer him.

He huffs and shakes his head again. "We don't have to," he says again. "I won't force myself on you if you're uncomfortable."

"But...we are married—"

"We are married," he says firmly, "You are my wife, and I am your husband. What happens—or doesn't happen—behind closed doors is our business. Not anyone else's."

But people will talk. Time will pass, and people will start wondering why you aren't pregnant yet. That is how it goes, right? First comes marriage and then comes the baby carriage, or however the fuck it's supposed to go. You have to go through with this, the whole nine yards, or people will talk.

The military is full of secrets, but rumors will still snake their way throughout until it reaches your father. If he knows, he will blame you for embarrassing him in front of his colleagues. For being a worthless daughter who couldn't do this one thing right.

You have no say in this. You can rebel all you want, but he will always make you cower in the end and bend to his will, just like how this marriage has happened.

"We have to," you tell Caleb, surprising him, "I'm...I'm okay with this."

You gasp when he pulls you up and into his arms, your face pressed to his chest. His hand is big, you think again, feeling it stroking the back of your head, but you also realize it is so gentle. He is so much bigger than you, can easily overpower and overwhelm you, but he doesn't.

He is so, so gentle with you. Why?

You don't even realize you had started crying, your body trembling against his, until he asks, "Are you scared of me?"

And you pause, breathing still shaky.

He continues to rub the back of your head. He sighs suddenly, and he whispers into your hair, "You don't have to be scared of me. I won't hurt you. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to."

"It’s...not you," you say eventually, still unsure if you were being completely truthful with him. "It’s..."

You falter, unsure of where your fears truly lie. Him? The Gener—Father? Or...everything?

He shushes you again. "Don't worry about anyone else. Just trust me."

You look up hesitantly, your tears blurring your vision. He brushes away those tears.

You're looking at him. Truly looking at him for the first time.

His eyes are violet, you realize suddenly. They are so pretty.

"I'll protect you," he promises, "I'll keep you safe, so please....please don't be scared of me."

[blvdheart]

SHARED MY BODY AND MY MIND WITH YOU

→ Leon broke up with you because of his emotional baggage, not wanting to drag you down into his trauma-induced misery. He didn’t usually date out of his line of work anyway, he hated himself for involving himself with someone so innocent. But when he gets a voicemail at an awfully late hour and listens to it, he nearly broke driving laws to get to your place. He still loves you, that much is certain. Your body and mind are like a second nature to him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, pwp, one sided breakup, angst, description of leon’s self guilt and sabotage, heavy mentions of marriage, centered around Leon rather than the reader, reconciliation, lovemaking–gentle sex, crying, very small religious snippet, he eats you out, unprotected p in v, implied aftercare + implication of a better future

WC: 5.3k

Note: i think…this is my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. breaking my pink blog theme with this and actually capitalizing letters um…i had to set the tone okay. i actually started working on this in january to cope with some things, but i didn’t make much progress until recently!! the title’s a lyric from the song ‘cruel world’

MASTERLIST

Leon has a rule: never get emotionally involved with anyone who isn’t in his line of work. The reason behind that is self-explanatory. It's too difficult to accomplish. All his baggage holds him down, and he’s always away for long periods at a time and then returns back with body aches all over and has to hibernate for a while. What does he truly have to offer?

He did it anyway.

You managed to romance him, granting him a fleeting glimpse of happiness and a chance at self-love. Lingering caresses, meaningful eye contact, soulful conversations, an audience to his jokes, the key to your heart — you gave him everything.

Breaking up with you was painful, the second it was all said and done and you were out of his sight, he broke down crying. That was what he deserved, that’s what his mind told him.

It was easy for Leon to disappear from your life, just as quick as the snap of his fingers. He was never around that much to begin with. Your efforts in reaching out to him were futile if he was halfway across the world dealing with another abrupt assignment, or if he fell back into the habit of nursing a drink in some run down bar without contacting a soul.

But no amount of alcohol could make him forget about you these days. The memories of you were too strong to be diluted.

“What about this one?” Curiosity had dripped from your question, your fingers gently feathered across the healed up scar on his left shoulder.

Leon was almost an open book when it came to you, he truly cherished honesty in any relationship, whether romantic or platonic. Guilt weighed on him for having to limit certain answers to only the surface details. It felt wrong; it felt like he was keeping secrets from you and keeping you in the dark. But it couldn’t be helped, not when you weren’t in the same line of work as him. Most of the contents of his work were confidential.

After all, at this point the two of you had only been dating for half a year. How could he burden your mind with the harsh realities of everything that wasn’t known by the general public?

The two of you were naked, tangled under the sheets. No sex or anything, simply getting familiar with each other’s bodies and exploring with gentle and cautious hands.

“1998, shot on duty.”

The memories were still fresh in his mind. People say that forgetting a traumatic event is common, people dissociate to cope and shield their brain. It was the opposite for Leon. All the screams plagued his mind like a damn mantra, no way in hell would he ever be able to forget anyone’s voice.

Either that, or his mind made up fantasies about what could’ve been between you both. Domestic bliss. Buying a house together. Shy talks about how many kids you guys wanted. The memories haunted him. He wanted it back.

He even bought a ring. A beautiful one that he was meant to display to you when he sunk onto one knee and popped the question that would hopefully bind the two of you for life. The one that he was supposed to fidget with whenever he held your hand as the two of you planned your wedding, whether it be simple, grand, or to elope.

He kept it safe even after he broke up with you, he couldn’t bear to throw it away because of the sliver of hope that maybe one day he’d still get the chance of putting it on your finger. He felt like a fool. Sometimes he opened the box up to reminisce. It tugged at his heartstrings when he saw how rough his own fingers were in comparison to the smooth metal, from his years of physical exhaustion and training. God, he wished your hands would never get all battered like his.

He thought about you so much that you were the star actress in his nightly dreams.

The worst ones were the nightmares, though. Like the one that had him turning in his sleep tonight.

It all replayed in his mind. Your facial expression when he broke up with you out of the blue — the way the smile on your face had faded into a frown, your glimmering eyes contorting into that of disheartened ones. The way you looked at him with such a concoction of emotions. The pitiful chuckle that escaped your lips along with a nervously spoken ‘what?’ Or maybe it was the prolonged silence afterwards that killed him. It felt like hours until he got a proper response from you, one that was drowned out by the drumming of his own heart and the pulse that formed in his ears.

Usually he got to the end of it, but tonight he was abruptly woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. A blessing in disguise, maybe. Regardless, he was a bit irritated, he had always been such a light sleeper.

“You’re kidding…” Leon let out a heavy sigh, trying to rub the sleep away from his eyes. He didn’t even want to answer, too tired to even think about the possibility of being called to the field. No way in hell did he want to be met with Hunnigan’s voice and some intel he didn’t feel like remembering.

He let the phone ring, and eventually, blissful silence filled the room again. If it was dire, he knew he’d get another call soon.

Instead, he heard his phone vibrate not long after. He muttered out a curse before reaching for his phone, seeing that a voicemail was left. He didn’t bother reading whose number it was. Christ, the message was 5:06 minutes long.

Whatever. He played it aloud, resting his forearm over his face as he listened in.

“Hey Leon, it’s me…”

Fuck.

He fully sat up on his bed, so quickly it could’ve given him whiplash.

“I miss you. Still think about you every day. I don’t know what I did wrong…you probably aren’t even listening to this. I just…I don’t know.” a sigh. “The clock hit 12 and um, well today’s the anniversary of the day you asked me out. Maybe you don’t remember. I think you do though, you were always good with dates.”

Leon knew the voice of a broken person when he heard it.

No. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to let you go and then you’d see how much life had to offer, how any other person could give you a better and more stable relationship.

How could you be hung up on a man like him?

It was instinctual. He shuffled out of bed, body reacting before his mind and reaching for a clean pair of clothes from his closet. He left the voicemail playing in the background, it filled his lonely house. His heart was racing so loudly he couldn’t even hear the sounds of the wind outside or the creak of the floor with every step. All he did was change and brush his teeth before he drove over to you.

Thankfully, the roads were empty and the highway was free of traffic or else surely he would’ve been pulled over.

Thinking rationally wasn’t necessary when it came to you, not when he just got punched in the gut with a load of nostalgia and gut wrenching heartbreak.

He has always been yours, even during the separation. His heart hammered within his ribcage when he pulled into your driveway, his body moving in a hurry out of his car and towards your door. No hesitation.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes, but eventually the door swung open.

Your pretty face filled the focus of his pupils, his expression softening. You looked like a deer in the headlights, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

Oh, my sweet girl. There she is.

His hands itched to reach for you, to hold you in his arms and spin you around, nuzzling his nose against yours like old times — like some romantic drama. He hadn’t watched one in a while, they reminded him too much of you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Leon's hair was messy. It was a sight you had seen many times: his bed hair. Those emotion carrying eyes of his were contrasted with the lifeless bags under them. He came over so damn quickly he hadn’t even taken the time to make himself look composed.

“Leon? What are you…” You couldn’t even finish your thoughts. You felt nothing yet so much at the same time, perhaps from the shock of it all. You brought two fingers to the pulse on your neck to make sure you were awake, and hadn’t somehow fallen asleep after your call and voicemail to him. The thundering pace of your pulse confirmed that you weren’t off in dream land.

“I got your voicemail,” He responded, sounding remorseful. “Had to make sure you were alright. Uh…can I come in?”

You continued staring at him like if he was some sort of supernatural being. If you reached your hand out to touch him, would he disappear? Or perhaps your limb would go straight through him as if he was transparent.

You snapped out of it and nodded. “Yeah, come on in.” Hesitation clouded your tone, not out of wariness but because you had no clue what the hell was going on. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, at least not in person, only through photos and videos you still had saved on your phone from when the two of you were dating (going through them was part of your nightly routine.)

“To be honest…I wasn’t expecting you to even hear my message.”

You stood there awkwardly as he entered, closing the door afterwards. Your apartment still smelled the same, a wave of comfort washed over him despite the circumstances, his eyes darting around at all your belongings. This was once his safe space, like his secret haven.

You sat on your couch, waving him over. Your legs felt like jelly, no way could you be standing for this. He followed, sitting on the couch cushion on the opposite side from you.

“My ringtone woke me up. I thought you were a coworker of mine at first but…I’m glad you weren’t.”

“Glad, really?”

“Yeah.” He gave no further context, at least for that minute.

Silence hung in the air, time became still. Either way, the shared glance between the two of you broke the tension, you were both thinking the same thing. Your minds were linked, seeking reconciliation, every circuit of neurons buzzing with your shared proximity.

He rested his elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. Everything felt surreal, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, afraid he’d disappear.

“I’m…I’m sorry about the way I ended things.” There was a crack in his voice, he was so desperately clinging onto the ideology that he shouldn’t wear all his heart on his sleeve. He failed every time though, his words had wavered.

“I know.” You truly did.

“How?”

“Because I know you, Leon. It hurt, and I found myself wondering why you would just up and leave after what felt like such a meaningful time. But I didn't ever think you did it with mal intent.”

You should be demanding answers, hell, he could even take a few slaps to the face. Maybe his guilt ridden self preferred that to your sweet treatment. Did he even deserve to be met with your understanding? This self-pitying mindset he harbored is what had led to this in the first place.

“You’re right. I didn’t mean to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.” Were his efforts in explaining himself getting across? “I thought it was better this way. I'm…broken.”

Trying to convince him that he isn’t ‘broken’ was futile, all you could do was beautify it instead. You scooted closer to him, clasping one of his hands between yours. “All you see are your faults, but I was seeing you entirely, not just for what you do in your job or the images that keep you up at night.”

His hands felt the same. Calloused in areas he couldn’t help like his knuckles and his palms, but well-kept in the nail department. He looked down at the physical contact, putting his other hand atop yours, his thumb grazing tenderly at your skin. Familiar territory.

“It’s hard not to.” He admitted, his eyes feeling glossy all of a sudden. “My job is my life, it drags into every other part of my life.”

“How did it drag into our relationship?”

He truly didn’t know how to answer that. The times he shared with you were the best experiences of his life. He finally got the chance to pull out his cardboard box full of romantic movies to watch with the lover he had been waiting for his whole life, you. Countless nights spent cooking together in your kitchen, full of laughter and playful bickering, and some harmless food fights. Grocery shopping together with laced fingers, just a sneak peek into domesticity. God, he yearned for its return.

“I don’t know. I constantly had to leave and got no vacation time either. Let’s see…I had to keep a lot of information confidential. It kinda screams ‘this’ll all make a girl run the other way.’”

How wrong he was, he ended up leaving before he could get abandoned, as if that would’ve happened, though, you never wanted him out of your life.

“That wasn’t true for me, Leon. I wanted to be with you. I just hope I wasn’t a burden on you.”

That hurt. A dull ache spread across his chest. He pulled you close, tucking you against his side.

“Don’t say that,” His instruction was soft spoken, his lips brushed against your cheek. You were never a burden, he always shut you out, thinking that his heart was full of thorns and you’d prick yourself if he let you get too close. That, perhaps his sorrow was contagious and his poison would flood your veins.

Words of comfort weren’t his strong suit, but he tried his best. He had to. “You weren’t a burden. Never were, and never will be, okay?”

It felt so good to have you against him, his gaze was set on you, searching for any indicator that you were uncomfortable. You leaned your shoulder against his shoulder though, nuzzling against him. Pensive silence followed.

Even with the somber undertones filling your apartment, your heart was bursting. He was here, back with you. Holding you like he used to do after you had a particularly stressful day at work, or when you had an argument with one of your close ones.

The long separation made familiar carnal desires spark to life, along with the itch to bring them to fruition.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You murmured to him, but your wavering voice caught his instant attention.

You were on the verge of tears, oh dear. If you started sobbing, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back from crying either.

Leon didn’t waste a second, pulling you onto his lap, one of his hands stroking the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around your back.

“What are you thinking about?” He needed to know. You had always been the most verbal, whereas his feelings usually showed on his face or body language.

“About how much I missed you.” You respond, running your hands up and down his arms, squeezing at his muscles. “And how unreal this feels. And…” Your eyes flicker down to his lips. “I wanna kiss you, Leon…and y’know.” Make love. “Like old times.”

Oh.

“Are you sure?” Leon hadn’t intended for the night to play out this way. He needed to make sure you were actually thinking straight with the pool of emotions you seemed to be drowning in. To be fair, he was drowning too.

It was midnight, your bodies burned for one another.

“I am.” You uttered those words with such finality, eyes set on him.

This wasn’t some impromptu longing for his physical connection, you had been craving it for as long as the two of you had been separated. To feel him in the purest and most tender way possible, nestled against one another and eliciting feelings no one else could.

The pads of his thumbs rub circles against the fat of your hips. He's looking up at you, his eyes are unable to hide a flicker of yearning and affection. Expressive, his pupils dilated and his eyebrows slightly raised. He blinked slowly, like a cat showing utmost trust to its owner.

He looks at you like he worships you (he does.) Get him on his hands and knees, he’ll mumble your name like you’re his god and he’s praying to you, all his sins out in the open and his scarred body for you to look over and judge. He’ll be vulnerable with you if that means you’ll forgive his wrongdoings and give him a second chance. You must be a merciful god, no doubt about it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You murmured, cupping his face. His gaze was hypnotic, sending a wave of security down your body. It almost felt as if you traveled to the time before he shattered your heart into pieces of glass.

“Like what?” He couldn’t help it. Not like he had a mirror, anyway. His face was usually tense, brows permanently furrowed and eyes narrowed from being attentive all the fucking time, his lips a straight line, jaw anything but relaxed.

Not right now, though. Never with you. Everything in his body softened and loosened up around you. Well, with the exception of his dick but that was another matter.

“You know what I mean. Like…like you still love me.”

Leon didn’t know what to say. The words died in his throat while every fiber of his being wanted to say ‘I do.’ The same words he could’ve voiced out standing across the altar from you. His brain short-circuited.

His pause came across as ambiguous to you, to mask the pain, you kissed him. Like a chocolate on a hot summer day, he melted in an instant, turning to mush, holding one side of your jaw and matching your pace.

The two of you mingled like two puzzle pieces. Your chest was flush against his, one of your hands finding his hair and pulling on it, earning a drawn out groan from him. It went slow for the first five minutes, some occasional pull backs for breath, shy smiles in betweens, before going back in like the act of kissing was needed for your pulses to continue, your hearts beating as one.

“Mmph.” Your whimper made him shudder, oh how he had missed that noise. His other hand got a bit more confident, resting on the small of your back, moving up towards your ribs then back down, almost resting on your ass.

He felt a surge of heat settle in his groin, aching to give you all the pleasure you deserved, to make you feel cherished and known. To knock any misery out of your head and replace it with euphoric sparks and reassurance. To be one with you again, if you’d have him.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes fluttering open. “Bedroom?”

A nod from you was all it took. He didn’t let you get up, instead holding your ass as he stood up, his lips back on yours as he carried you to your bedroom like he owned the place. His mind still had the spatial layout, it worked out and he eventually placed you onto the middle of the bed oh so delicately.

You knew what was coming, already taking your clothes off in a haste as you heard his belt come undone, the sound of his taking his shirt off, and his boots being kicked off.

It wasn’t long until he was on you again.

Leon took his time to look at your body. He was all too familiar with it, knowing exactly where certain beauty marks were, or the places that were sensitive to even the slightest fan of his breath. His fingertips ghosted over your sides, sucking in a sharp inhale as his eyes roamed all over, studying you as if you were his muse and he was about to draw you. “So beautiful…”

His lips had traveled all across you once upon a time. Leon had a great memory, perhaps one of his best features, though also his downfall. At times like these, it comes in handy. It almost seemed like a hazy flashback to the nights he had you splayed on the bed, pressing his lips against your forehead and making it all the way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He wanted to mimic the memory. “Need to taste you. Can I?”

“God, yes.” You agreed in a heartbeat, body already feeling all tingly at the anticipation.

He littered open mouthed kisses from the middle of your chest, all the way down to your end of your stomach, making your body ignite with flames and mind flood with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. What day was it? Month? Year? You couldn’t remember, just desperately hoping this wasn’t some realistic feeling dream. You’ve had those too often, and if you woke up without him by your side, you felt like you would die from heartbreak.

He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to pull you close. His fingers dug into your thighs as he took another look at his favorite pretty cunt. He missed this. Missed you. Missed having you grind yourself against his face until he couldn’t breathe. Missed having his heart race from the angelic noises you blessed his ears with.

His nose pressed against your clit, applying light pressure as his tongue lapped at your slit, gathering the dew there. Geez, he really got right into it. Your eyes rolled back, your stomach tensing and your back arching. You could die right now by your (ex) lover’s tongue, what a way to go.

On the occasion that he opened his eyes, he’d look up at you through his light lashes — he swore you looked like an angel from his perspective.

“What is this? Your last meal on death row?” You were joking, but god…he really was making your mind go blank, he knew just all the right buttons to press.

“Oh, so you think I’m a criminal?”

Like always, you reached for his hair, pushing it back and hearing him growl out of contentment. He gave your clit gentle sucks before flattening his tongue against it and flicking it, his head moving side to side, repeating the process again and again.

One thing about Leon? He always found a way to turn you on by being vocal. His noises were muffled and sloppy but you could feel the vibration of all his whimpers and growls against you as he took his time eating you out. He was getting off to pleasuring you, and that fact alone made it so much hotter.

Your thighs were trembling, threatening to close in and squeeze his head. Leon placed one of his hands over your lower abdomen, applying light pressure with his palm and coaxing you into your orgasm.

It didn’t take you long to get there, you hadn’t felt a tongue on you in ages, he was your last.

“Leon, I’m—“

He already knew.

“That’s it, make a mess all over my face.” It sounded like a demand but instead it came across as a pitiful and desperate plea.

How many times had he been in this position? Lying on his stomach, your taste on his tongue, chin dripping with his drool and your wetness, feeling your body trembling…he couldn’t even count how many. But it was enough for him to know your body like no other.

He kept going even after your thighs started squeezing in on him, even with the way you unintentionally tugged at his hair enough to have him rutting against your sheets. He made sure to make your orgasm feel good, lapping at you all throughout until he heard a whine leave your lips and he felt you weakly push his head away — he didn’t want to overstimulate you and hurt you.

He finally took a breath, one that filled his lungs with satisfaction as he propped himself up on his elbows before sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his blood pump south with the way you were still composing yourself, your legs twitching all cutely and your torso rising and sinking with each deep breath you attempted to take.

“Do you wanna…” Your eyes flitted down to the prominent tent in his pants, feeling a stirring in your stomach already.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I mean…only if you want to.”

With his belt already in some corner of the room and his fly down, all that was left was discarding his pants and boxers down. He fished his wallet out and pulled a packet from it before doing so.

You were too distracted eyeing his now exposed dick, gulping. It had been a while. But a certain wrapper noise caught your attention. A condom. You had always been careful with him in the past, but you wanted him inside him without any barriers. To feel him entirely, his skin against your insides.

“Don’t, please?”

“But–“

“I need to feel you, Leon.”

“Already being a bad influence on me? What am I gonna do with you?” His jest was met with your roll of eyes, but the corners of your eyes crinkled, happy he was already comfortable enough to bicker a bit.

He pet your head, gazing fondly at you as he awaited your response.

“I just want to feel you as close as possible. I don't know how to explain it. You can pull out at the end…I dunno.”

You didn’t need to explain further, because he felt the same. He kissed your forehead, whispering “okay.”

Getting in between you and in position for missionary, he continued peppering kisses all over your face. He couldn’t hold back, he had so much to make up for, he owed you at least a thousand more. He pushed into you, a breathy moan leaving his lips, it felt like he had just entered the pearly gates. And the way your jaw hung open in a silent gasp told him you felt the same.

“You alright?”

“Mhm, keep going.”

“God, I missed you…” His thrusts made the bed creak, adding to the assortment of sounds of two bodies joined as one: skin against skin, high pitched gasps and occasional throaty groans, nails scratching against Leon’s back and leaving red marks in their wake, a subtle noise, but there nonetheless.

“Yeah? How much?”

“Too much. Could never get you outta my mind.” He admitted, burying his head against your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses all over, smiling when he felt you squirming. “Dreamt about you every night. Every…every morning I woke up, I thought you’d still be by my side.”

His response knocked the breath out of you, God if you could have him closer than physically possible, you would. This was the closest you’d be though, his tip hitting your g-spot, his body flush against yours, it was just the two of you in this never ending universe.

“Leon…Leon…fuck.” You called for him like you needed him to prevent you from crumbling.

He pinned one of your hands to the side of your head and laced his fingers between yours, his head remaining against your other side, raspy grunts and incoherent praises rumbling against your ear. He gently bit your earlobe, tugging at it and sending a shiver down your spine.

Despite all his self doubts, Leon knew how to love, how to send another person to cloud nine and make their head fuzzy with sheer euphoria. He wasn’t fucking you, he was loving you, there’s a clear difference.

His lips trailed to your jawline, eventually reaching your lips and initiating an uncoordinated make out session, the sound of dazed out whimpers and quiet growls mixing together perfectly.

He was getting there, his pace more erratic than before, his hand squeezing yours tightly. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your lips, speaking in between rushed pecks. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

You managed to smile at that. “Yeah? Well you’re the prettiest boy in the world.”

You could’ve said handsome. Or hot. Or cute. But Leon was pretty, that was always the first thing that came to your mind. He was like a model, surely some agency would have tried to recruit him if he were actually in broad daylight more.

“Mm.” He liked the compliment. No more words were exchanged after that, he was focused on feeling you. Feeling the way you took all of him like it was nothing, clearly the two of you were physically made for one another.

There was no going back from this, Leon couldn’t bear the thought of getting a taste of happiness yet again and then falling back into a hopeless pit. He wouldn’t push you away again.

You were already sensitive from the way he had made you cum on his face earlier. You pulled away from his kisses, your head thrashing side to side against the pillow instead, your hips desperately bucking to meet his.

“Leon…”

“Just let go for me, you can do it.”

Moans ripped from your throat, your nails leaving crescent indents on his skin as your body writhed underneath him. Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you came, his own stomach feeling tighter and tighter until he followed suit.

“I love you.” He let it slip at the very end, his mind too dazed and his emotions for you running at full blast. You would’ve replied if not for the way you were in awe, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed, his head tilted back, his mouth let out the raspiest grunts as he pulled out and came. Fuck, he couldn’t be real.

It was only then that Leon’s head cleared. He felt his heart sink to his stomach, had he said something wrong? The moment died down, he felt uncertain about how you’d react. Regardless, Leon took a moment to admire you in your flushed state before leaning down to kiss your head, then lying down beside you and pulling you to his side.

You were all dazed with his confession lingering in your head.

He still loved you. Maybe it was obvious, but hearing it aloud was a completely different feeling.

All the suppressed emotions between the two of you were being put on the spotlight. Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears, you tried to blink them away, but you failed.

Leon wished your eyes hadn’t gotten glossy and that your lips hadn’t tugged into a small frown. It made his heart physically ache. Heavy hearted, that’s what he felt like, swallowing to try to alleviate just how sore his throat felt all of a sudden. Guilt bubbled in his stomach because he knew he was the source of your tears.

He kissed away your tears, welcoming the salty taste of them.

He couldn’t tell you not to cry, he wasn’t in the position to. All he could do was reassure you instead, curling his hand into a fist before rubbing soothing circles onto your back as he watched you curl against him.

“Hey…”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to start crying. I just…you still love me? Did you mean that?”

“It’s okay. Just let it out, I'm here for you.” He had your head tucked underneath his chin. “And yeah…I never stopped.”

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t leaving this time.

Maybe that ring he held onto would find its true owner soon.

You, his sweet girl.

[catsushinyakajima]

KLANCE FIC RECS FOR THE NEW YEARS RECAP PART TWO

Ghost of the Future & Shadow of the Past by wittyy_name/@wittyy-name, Zizzani/@zizzani | 300k+ | Time-travel | Dual fic

These fics were genuinely so. What the fuck. Oh my god. I came into it not expecting too much and I came out of it like ahjhsihfs. I’m so so upset that it isn’t finished, that too right before the last chapter. There are so, so many good aspects to this fic. First off: the plot and its delivery. The idea of switching places with a past version of yourself is not an uncommon plotline. However, having the story be split into two stories following both the past and the present with each chapter parallelling each other was flawlessly executed. I would read one chapter where they would do xyz which affected the past, and then be so excited to see what happens next, and then be even more excited that I could simply read how it happened in the past. It felt like I was time itself, reading through parts of these characters' lives non-linearly. The KL chemistry is beautiful, the plot is beautiful, I sincerely love it.

it’s five o’clock somewhere by soulreapin/@soulreapin | 8.1k | Bartending AU | First Date

This fic was so so soft and funny. There were parts of the fic where I was so floored by the comedic writing that I was like damn why didn't I write this? Also, their first date is just so cute!

Run into the Bright Lights by peanutbutterapple/ https://hugoweasley.tumblr.com/ | 36.8k | April Fools Day | Canon Compliant

I've never seen an april fools day fic before and omg I wish there were more. The miscommunication between KL is so genuine and not a product of stupid actions. There's beautiful hurt/comfort. I've reread this two billion times.

AITA by perfchan/@jacqulinetan | 34k | Post-War

This fic is so so funny and just. It sums up the whole let down of returning back to civilian life after war very well and the way Lance shuts people out. So so good.

to breathe in this mirage by existwound/@existwound | 34k+ | Time-travel | Domestic KL

This fic is so good!?!? Astra writes KL fighting so well and it leads up to beautiful ANGST which leads to beautiful hurt/comfort. This fic is not finished but I love it so so so much.

Spider-Man Klance AU by iwriteshipsnotsailthem | 102.6k | Spider-man!Keith

This author captures the essence of spiderman in a fic so much. Many other spider-man aus will focus more on ships than the spiderman aspect, but this author balances it so well. There's a perfect blend of action and romance.

finally, you're mine by nezueye/@nezueye | 7.2k | Friends to Lovers | Modern AU

This has to be hands down one of the best fluff fics ever. Every scene with KL, which was all of them, was so satisfying and cute. I loved it so much I reread this all the time.

Even the People in Your Dreams Will Lie to You by popering/@roylustang | 314k+ | torture | angst

This fic is INSANE!!! Literally!! There's so much thought and detail that goes into the worldbuilding of the fic despite the world literally being canon VLD! This is a fic where every detail counts, and where you yourself might doubt your hindsight and knowledge too. I feel so bad for everyone in this story, and I eagerly await the last chapter (author take ur time w it tho plz)

my my, how can i resist you? by nikkiRA | 1.7k | Est Relationship | Watching Mamma Mia

This is a follow up to a fic where KL get together, but this snippet just has my heart. It's so beautiful to see the way Keith loves Lance.

what makes you beautiful by seventies | 4.5k | MMA!Keith x Nurse!Lance

The funniest fi in the world. I wish I knew the author IRL so I could laugh at their jokes everyday. They're so funny. This fic is so so funny.

I love you more than fried chicken by AsterikaMay/@catsushinyakajima | 9.1k words | Asexual!Lance

This is one of my fics...I included it cuz I'm ace and I LOVE ace fics LMAO

part one here

[milkbobatyun]

breaking point

pairing: reo mikage x reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: sticks and stones may not break your bones, but his family's constant snide comments and degrading remarks were chipping away at your resolve.

word count: 922

a/n: i love when family trauma is able to finally play its part and allow me to write a decent fic and give me ideas LMAO

with a sigh, you unlocked the door, one hand cradling the stack of legal files before taking off your shoes at the doorway and relishing in the quiet of the penthouse. next to your shoes sat a pair of male dress shoes. it seems that reo had arrived home early.

with a crisp clatter, you dropped your keys on the shelf, padding into your study down the hall and releasing the heavy stack of files onto your desk. leaning against your arms, you planted yourself against the table, taking in a steadying breath.

steeling your resolve, you slipped the letter from the top of the pile into your bag.

walking into the kitchen, you found reo, sitting at the high kitchen island, scrolling through his phone.

wordlessly, you slid the letter across the marble surface, watching as reo’s attention shifted from the phone to the letter, before his piercing gaze turned to you.

“what is the meaning of this?” reo asked, turning the letter to you. the words glared back at you, clear as day.

divorce papers.

you sighed, defeat flooding through your body.

“i have nothing else to tell you.” you muttered, head turned away. you couldn’t meet his eyes, otherwise your tears would flow. “i’m tired of this marriage, of everything.”

loud silence filled the room, its tension so thick a butter knife could cut it. you raised your eyes, watching as confusion, hurt and despair chased across reo’s face, before it settled into a mask of mocking disbelief.

“why?” he whispered, voice wavering, anguish colouring his tone.

your heart clenched, the brave face that you tried so hard to maintain crumbled, words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“you don’t understand, reo,” you began, tone thick with guilt and exhaustion. “ever since i married you, into your family, they have placed enormous burden on me. did you even know, that they were pressuring to resign from my job as a lawyer, to bear the son that they so desperately want, just so he can inherit the company in the future? time and time again, they paint me as the villainess. they say that i’m the one controlling you, controlling your freedom!”

your voice rose at the end, breaking through the tranquility of the penthouse.

“i...i didn’t know,” he muttered feebily, voice barely audible. but you could see, in his stance, there was defensiveness, a reluctance to believe that his family had made such demands. “why didn’t you tell me?”

your laughter was a bitter echo in the spacious kitchen.

“how could i tell you that your parents were doing something so scandalous, something that would ruin your family’s pristine, picture perfect image?”

reo broke the eye contact, guilt flashing across his face before defensiveness quickly overtook it. “maybe there’s some other way, some way to fix everything.”

your shoulders slumped, exhaustion weighing down every word as you stared at him.

“you say that now, but you weren’t the one they interrogated, asking me when we would plan on having a son, enduring the snide remarks about marrying into the family for the money and power.”

you paused, taking in a steadying breath. “you would think that grown adults know when the right time to ask such questions would be, but clearly your parents didn’t, since they decided to ask at your five-year old daughter’s birthday party.”

reo opened his mouth to respond, to retort or make an excuse on his family’s behalf, but no sound could escape. you were right, he remembered when he heard snippets of family dinner conversations, how uncomfortable you had looked. silence fills the room, as the weight of realisation settles between the two of you.

“is there no other way?” he whispers, voice raw and strained.

you looked away, your soft heart aching at the plea in his voice. before you can respond, you hear a small quiet voice call out for you.

“mama?” a quiet voice whimpered from the doorway. “are you and papa fighting again?” your daughter stood, clad in her pjs, one small hand clutching her little rabbit plush by the ear, the other blearily rubbing at her eyes.

reo lifted his head up, face contorting into a mask, pretending that everything was ok.

“hello love,” he cooed, voice gentle, the tension in the room dissipating. “no, we’re just talking…about grown-up stuff.”

your daughter took a step forward, bottom lip quivering.

“but you were yelling,” her face scrunched with concern. “mama was crying.” her eyes turned glassy with unshed tears, a pout forming.

you try to hold back the sting of tears as you scooped her into a tight hug, forcing a smile.

“oh my darling, i’m fine,” you assured her. “we’re trying to figure some things out.”

releasing her from your hold, you place your hands on her shoulders, as her head swivels between the two of you, far from convinced, but she slowly nodded her head.

“you’ll be ok, right?” she whispered, as though to assure herself. “we’ll be a happy family!” the innocence in her words twisted the guilty knife in your heart. you couldn’t bear to shatter your daughter’s dreams over the snide comments of reo’s family.

“yes,” reo’s voice was thick and husky with emotion. “we’ll be one happy family!” he echoed, flashing her a soft smile.

the promise lingered in the room, filling the loud silence. for her sake, you would try to keep that promise, but the pressure and hurt his family inflicted on you would never heal over.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[myjjongie]

౨ৎ to my beloved ── p. jongseong ⟢ teaser

SYNOPSIS . . . Moon Yn daughter of a notorious Duke who is said to be one of the Emperor's most loyal aides is married off to Archduke Park Jay. Their marriage soon became the talk of the country. Everyone adored the joining of Yn, daughter of Duke Moon and the Emperor's eldest son Jay. Two people the Emperor cherished very deeply. Unaware of Duke Moon's true intentions, he desired the throne the Emperor sat on. Using his own daughter as a means of infiltration he marries her off to Jay. Yn being shackled down to her father listened to everything he told her to do. Eventually when the day came for the overthrowing of the Emperor's throne Yn dies before ever knowing who truly won in the end.

OR

IN WHICH . . . Yn is sent back in time to before she married Jay, before her father started preparations to overthrow the Emperor, before everything was lost. Finally having a second chance to save the people most dear to her. Yn won't let her father control her as he pleases this time. For Yn will make her own decisions despite the unforeseeable future. With this second chance she'll marry Jay with the intentions of helping him without the control of her father. ⌇WORD COUNT . . . 382 ⌇

.ᐟ PAIRING . . . archduke!jay x archduchess fem!reader

.ᐟ GENRES . . . oneshot histrorical au, time travel trope, enemies to lovers (if you squint your eyes hard enough), magic/magical beings are a thing, contract marriage, she fell first he fell harder, angst, yn was a villainess in her past life (???)

.ᐟ WARNINGS . . . yn unalives herself (in the beginning), family abuse (all from the father), heavy descriptions of certain topics, detailed scenes with physical touch

.ᐟ STARRING . . . enhypen (all members) ive (liz) nct (chenle + mark) aespa (giselle) + possible mentions of other idols

•

꒰ evie's note : so i cooked up this snippet an hour or so ago. posting this fic teaser to test the waters in a way cause i only have a smau being posted at the moment. i've also been itching to write write something and it's been a hot minute since i've gotten my creative brain juices flowing as well. back into reading manhwas again so if this reminds you of any of those, yes. and yes it's about jay again IM SORRY i miss my pookie bear angel can yall blame me :( also if i finish this within a timely manner i wanna have it out before the end of next week tbh. really hoping i'm able to do this fic justice for yall. but alas enjoy the tiny bit of what my brain cooked up. ꒱

taglist ( open! send a ask/comment to be added ) . . . @shinkenprincess-oh @jiryunn @rebeccaaaaaaaa @fancypeacepersona @thinkinboutbin @nnnecubrate

perm. taglist ( open! send a ask/comment to be added ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @nickiminajleftasscheek

YN POV .

My eyes blink open to see the view of an all too familiar ceiling above myself. It was the same cream colored ceiling that belonged in my bedroom in the manor at the Moon duchy. Slowly sitting up my eyes scanned my surroundings. It was exactly as I had remembered the room, the sitting area for when guests were over. The windowsill where I had often read books to pass time through the day. The tall walls decorated with intricate designs only a Duke could afford for a singular room. Thing was the last time I had been in this room was before I left for the Park duchy. When I left to get married to Duke Jay. My mind was a mess of memories as it all dawned on me.

I remembered the blazing fire as I ran through the trees in the forest next to the Park duchy. I could recall the stinging pain as the branches scratched and tore at the skin of my arms. Then the feeling of my legs numbing as I sprinted in the heavy dress that was tailored for a archduchess to wear. My head ached as everything came back to me. Remembering the sound of the knights corning me in the forest, shouting how I needed to go with them. Jay wanted me alive, but I knew it was all a lie. My father had started a coup d’état, he always craved for the higher power in the aristocracy. Being granted a duke title while not being related to the royal family simply wasn’t enough for him. So he sought out higher power, the throne of the Emperor. Jay was one of the Emperor’s sons, there was a feeling in me. Jay wouldn’t stand for his wife being the daughter of the man who wanted to take his father’s throne as well as his life. If the knights captured me to take me to Jay he for sure would have killed me with his own hands. With no other choice I took my life. In hopes that there would be one last thing I had control over before I died. It was laughable at how in the end I only had control over how I got to die and who got to kill me.

©myjjongie 2025

[pizzaqueen]

A snippet from a future fic I'll probably never write, where Steve is a widower with two teenage kids, and he and Eddie randomly meet up, rekindling their old flame. This is when they've been together a while:

“Thank you,” Steve says, coming up behind Eddie at the bathroom sink.

Eddie pauses, catching Steve's eye in the mirror. “What for?” he asks, mouth foamy with toothpaste.

Steve slips his hands along Eddie's hips, hooks his chin over Eddie's shoulder. “For loving my kids.”

“You don't—” Toothpaste dribbles down Eddie's chin and he stoops to spit what's left in his mouth into the sink, gathering his hair to one side. He rinses his mouth out, wipes his face with a towel, then turns to Steve. “You don't have to thank me for that. Of course I love them.”

“Not everyone I've dated has.”

“They're idiots.” Eddie grabs the hem of Steve's shirt, pulling him close. “I mean, first of all, they're part of you, and I don't think I could love you and not love them. But...” He trails off, a small smile tilting his lips. “They're amazing kids.”

Pride swells in Steve's chest; he slides his arms around Eddie's waist and says, “They are.”

“And I'm pretty damn honored I get to be part of their lives,” Eddie says, “so thank you,” and he butts his head gently against Steve's.

Steve huffs and slides his hands up Eddie's back, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I love you.” He presses a kiss to Eddie's neck.

“I love you too.”

“And they both love you as well.”

Eddie lets out a shuddering breath. Steve knows how nervous Eddie was, when they started dating, that he wouldn't be welcomed, but it's almost like he's always been part of their family now. “Good to know,"”Eddie says.

Steve holds Eddie a little tighter. All those years ago, back in Hawkins, when they ended things, Steve thought he'd never see Eddie again. But here they are, together—a family—and Steve's never letting him go this time.