#i dont mind sharing because this will either never be finished or be finished a long time from now

[pnfc]

i haint watched the dang chibisode and idk if ill actually watch it with sound on sdfjk but i have a hurt feeling about them casually imbuing perry with speech for a one off gag because the idea that he needs to talk to communicate is fake. we had 4 seasons of wacky magic hijinks cartoon where perry never needed verbal speech to communicate. they couldve done this gag at any point in the show but they didn't, and the fact that they didn't felt significant. perry's muteness is such a core part of his character, to me, to the way i conceive of him/write him. i don't wanna overreact to a goofy little side cartoon (even tho i'm doing it anyway) but it's still the characters, and it still upsets me! ok that's it i've said my piece

[yourworsttotebag]

Since mentioning my Evie and Wyll arranged marriage au, I went absolutely wild on the draft (like 2k worth of wild).

I can't say I wrote a lot of plot, but I did write a lot of making out!

______

Wyll shifted above her and groaned appreciatively as Evie's knees fell open for him. She pulled him close to lay over her, the hard planes of his body pressing against all of her soft curves.

Keeping his mouth off of her no longer seemed possible. If Wyll's lips weren't sinking against Evie's neck or trailing down between her breasts then she would urge him towards her own mouth to kiss her and Wyll obliged her again and again.

They came together and apart, as Evie's delicate hands skated up underneath Wyll's shirt to grip his shoulders. After another insistent push at the fabric and a quiet plea, Wyll sat up to tug his shirt over his head.

“Gods,” Evie said with awe. Wyll's stomach tightened as Evie's hands drifted over the defined muscles of his abdomen. “You're not a virgin, are you?” 

Wyll barked out a surprised laugh. “Uh, no, I'm not. I may be built for romance, but there are other tender hearts in the Gate. Why? Did you wish to be the first to defile me?”

“Oh, I'm sure I'll think of new and interesting ways to defile you,” she said, reaching for him again.

“I'm sure you will,” Wyll said as he bent to kiss her.

[rrxnjun]

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–” 

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?” 

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed? 

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?” 

“Hm?” 

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

[starrgirlella]

Lurking for love? More like lurking for LORE

Hi everyone! Just two days ago, I made some interesting discoveries about LFL by just digging around the website

I'm not sure if anyone else found this out so that's why I'm going to be sharing what I found because it's very interesting

This post is going to be pretty long lol and full of my rambling. If you're interested, please take a read! Do note that English isn't my first language so I may express myself a bit weird 😭

Also IK the screenshots are pretty shitty but I'm lazy oops

To start, I have a habit of checking the sinistershrike website along with the LFL itch.io game page. Why? Well I just like looking if there are any new updates (and its my hyperfixtation so I'm constantly looking for new content)-

And I noticed that on the sinistershrike website there was a new update which some of you may or may not saw.

In summary, the game is getting custom music, prounouns are getting removed so MC is going to be gender neutral and getting called only by their name and most interesting of all: a new main character is getting added, and they're going to be dateable!

Pretty interesting, right? I immediately got curious on who that character might be since they're going to cause drama and more mysteries.

But wait! I'm still not done, hehe

Afterwards, I was just randomly looking at Jacob Alden pics thru google. Again, why? Well, I don't know either lol. It's just a habit that I do when I'm bored and sometimes when I'm lucky, I come across new things.

And this time I was lucky!

So I scrolled down to the end of the results and I saw this post which caught my eye:

What's so interesting about it? Well the fact that the creators website is linked to it. Curious, I clicked on the link and was suprised at what I saw.

(Mind you I still dont know if I'm an idiot just finding this out or not...)

Basically, it's a site containing all info about Jacob! I got really excited when I saw it bc I LOVE learning all the facts about my favourite characters and finding new official content!

When I finished looking through it I noticed two things:

1. The website adress (is that what it's called? Im sorry english isn't my first language)

So when you look at the website adress you can notice how it's linked (basically an extension) to the creators webiste which is: sinistershrike.neocities.org

The thing is; you can't open Jacobs page on the creators site. Like yes, there is a tab which says CHARACTERS but if you click on it you'll get nothing but a scary looking Jacob. Which means to get to this page you have to type the adress in yourself.

So I'm assuming the creator is purposefully hiding this Jacob page (maybe because he wants to finish pages for all characters and more)

And here's the link if you want to take a look for yourself:

https://sinistershrike.neocities.org/character/jacob

2. At the end of the page, you have links to other characters made by the creator.

Not just lurking for love, but other ocs made by him!

Though, if you click on them, you'll get nothing. Maybe they're still being made? I'm not sure.

Now, when you look at the characters for LFL, it's very interesting because we now have info on Sarah's last name AND... an unknown character? Noah Vega.

At first, I was stunned. Who could this character be? Then I went back to the creators website and remembered the mention of a new character, can you see where I'm going?

Noah Vega must be the new character! He was never mentioned before; neither in the game nor in the creators deleted blogs.

And pretty quickly I found proof which helped my theory (I SOUND SO DUMB OMG)

Now going back to the website adress thing.

So I concluded that the Jacob website is hidden from the main website for an reason, hence you can only acess it by finding it yourself. I decided to mess around with the website adress a bit, to see if I could find any more extensions/links.

I started by putting different names in the adress. I tried out: Austin, Sarah, Cedric and Alfred but they didn't lead or anything.

BUT

The only name which lead to an extension was Noah. And holy shit-

I'm finding it hard to express how shocked I was at this discovery

This is a pretty big lore drop imo! So his website shows a pinboard with various notes.

And with these notes we can conclude two things:

1. He has an gambling addiction

2. He is investigating Jacob

He definitely an detective trying to solve an old murder case involved with Jacob. Hence why the mention that the new character will add more drama and mystery to the game.

The three murdered highschoolers must be his old friends mentioned in the game: Steve, Monty and Kenny. Which he claims that they haven't talked since highschool. In reality, they were murdered by him for reasons that are unknown for now.

The website link:

https://sinistershrike.neocities.org/character/noah

And that's about it! I had fun digging around finding this new info and writing this post. I hope to see more of interesting secrets like this in the future because it's fun finding them!

I hope this post was of interest to you :)

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Exquisite bedding and a loving married couple

Part two

Barbie dolls: husband! president!Coriolanus Snow x gn! Reader

Word: 3.4k

Summary: you grow closer to your husband (of who you were forced to marry 😱) also you have chronic pain/ a disability in that area it's left vague so everybody can enjoy and not just me

Warnings: I won't lie to you he's a good amount ooc but this is because I wrote this before I finished the book and before I watched the movie so I only knew academy coriolanus, so maybe just pretend like everything worked out for and became president nicely idk, you have chronic pain/ a disability that makes your body hurt idk just roll with me, forced marriages, you like art now it's like all you do, non sexual nudity, you make friends with the Avoxes that work for him, you cry, you say you're defective and coryo is like "hey hurumph dont do that🙅", yeah that's it really

Coriolanus didn’t exactly know what was expected of him during a forced marriage. He didn’t hate you, but he didn’t exactly like you very much either. He didn’t even know your favorite color and now you both shared a house, bed, and a last name. What is he supposed to do? 

You didn’t seem to like him very much either. You barely spoke, only saying a few words to the Avoxes and even fewer to him. Sometimes he questioned if you were an avox yourself, and then you’d mutter to yourself and it was crossed from his mind.

You rarely looked at him, often just floating around the mansion like a ghost and glancing at him when he tried to ask you a question. Coriolanus doubted you even knew his name at this point.

Sometimes you’d leave him notes clipped to his hanger holding up his suit for the work day. They were never anything of substance just a question you had about the house or a question about the things you were allowed to do. Coriolanus had no idea why you were asking him if you could go on a walk, he didn’t really care what you did ever as long as you made it back to the mansion in one piece and didn’t spread rumors about him.

You did share a bed and that was about as close as you two got. You slept on either side of the quite large bed and pretended the other person didn’t exist. 

As time passed you seemed to settle into the new house and new life. You had fluffy, useless conversations over dinner. It wasn’t much but it was better than the silent treatment. You learned every Avox’s name in the mansion. You started leaving notes asking for utensils that he assumed were for your hobbies.

He didn’t know any of the names but he still took the list to a craft store and let an employee handle it. Coriolanus left it in the sunroom you had claimed as your own. You spent all your time in there, staring out at the gardens in the backyard. He wondered why you didn’t just walk in the gardens but he wasn’t pushing it.

A small hint of a smile graced your features when you sat in that room and it was the happiest he’d seen you in the mansion so he wasn’t asking you any questions. He left the bags from the craft store on the rounded wooden coffee table. Coriolanus left a card with his initials on it in front of the bags. He hoped it’d give him some positive credit in your heart. 

The next day when he came home from work he peaked into the sun room to see it had been taken over by your presence. Art supplies and half-finished works were scattered everywhere.

You were sat on the luxurious chaise with a pattern that reminded him of the Grandma’am’s dresses. You had color and white streaks on your face, your hands were filthy, and you were fanning yourself with a piece of paper like the excitement made you break a sweat. All that mess would’ve made him upset. Imagine if you got that paint on the furniture. All the negative thoughts he conjured up washed away the second he saw the happy and relaxed look on your face. You looked at home. Coriolanus left it and slipped away from the door without gaining your attention. 

After that, he felt like you truly getting comfortable. Especially with him. He thought you might even like him more than an acquaintance. You started leaving compliments on his hangers instead of questions and lists.

Coriolanus still remembers reading the first one and blushing like a schoolboy. He shoved the note into the top drawer of his dresser and ignored the burning on his cheeks. Strangely enough, he started to find your art everywhere. He found a new small vase on his dresser one day. It was very small. It could hold maybe three or four flowers but it wasn’t the size that caught his attention. On the white background of the ceramic vase were little engraved roses. He thought of you being observant enough to notice him wearing them.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to thank you. He took a page from your metaphorical book and left a note to you on your dresser. He spoke of how he wanted to thank you but didn’t know what would bring his message across. Initially, he had thought of buying you some fancy jewelry on the ride home but it didn’t seem like something you would enjoy. He suggested an art thingy you really wanted. 

You thanked him for the note over dinner and started rattling off all about the art supplies you loved and all the art facts you knew. He couldn’t understand a word of what you said but still nodded along and hummed. A smile and sparkle in your eye had found your face. Coriolanus didn’t realize your face could make that expression. Halfway through one of your sentences your face fell. You stopped speaking and looked down at your plate. Coriolanus stared at you, wondering what could’ve provoked you to lose all of your energy like that. You shook your head like you were disappointed in yourself. 

“Sorry, I know you probably don’t want to listen to me talk all night. How was work?” You said, keeping your eyes on your plate. Coriolanus’ brain worked a thousand miles to catch up with yours. He sat back in his chair, wiping at the corners of his mouth. 

“I was listening. I was quite enjoying it, actually. That French painter used to eat yellow paint? Right? And I’d rather not speak of my work. It’s draining enough there much less coming home to talk about it.” Coriolanus said, making you lift your head. Your smile hadn’t returned but your defeated shoulders left. You looked him up and down. 

“He was actually Dutch. He just lived in France.” You muttered. He actually didn’t mean to mess his facts up but he was glad it got you talking again. You straightened up, a quarter of your spirits returning. “Also he didn’t eat the paint so he could ingest the happiness, as many believe. He tried to poison himself with it.” You said. Coriolanus scribbled down on his mental notes about you; you could not stand an incorrect art fact. He knew how to get you talking now. 

He thought everything was going so well too. The day had been pretty good. There was a note on his suit that complimented the tie he set out. Work was work but today felt less grueling with your simple compliment stirring in his head all day. He found a tiny ceramic cat snoozing away on top of his dresser. That he quite enjoyed.

Coriolanus said so over dinner as well. Your energy was lower, only answering with short responses. He tried to raise your energy by asking about what art project you worked on today but even that couldn’t pull you out of your slump. He assumed you must’ve had a rough night. Though he didn’t remember you tossing and turning. 

An Avox had ran you a warm bath after dinner. Though after you had slipped into the water, they started helping with the work in the kitchen. Coriolanus personally wouldn’t spend so much time in the bath but he wasn’t you so what did he know?

After he finished dressing for bed and setting out his suit, he maneuvered his way to your shared bathroom to brush his teeth. Sure he could’ve walked a few feet down the hallway to another unoccupied bathroom but strangely enough he missed your presence. He raised his hand to knock on the door but paused when he heard sniffling on the other side. Coriolanus wondered if the right thing to do was to go hide in the bedroom until you left the bathroom, go use the other bathroom and ignore your struggles, or knock. 

He rapped his knuckles against the wood, leaning his ear towards the door. Coriolanus raised his voice so you could hear him, but his tone remained soft.  He said he needed to use the sink and would be in and out in a few minutes. He waited for you to answer. You called for him to come in.

Coriolanus gently pushed open the door and tried to meet your eyes. You were sunken low into the bubbling water, only your face from the nose up present. You stared at the bathroom wall, avoiding his gaze. Coriolanus moved to the sink and brushed his teeth as fast as he could without disregarding their health. When he finished he turned back to the tub, feeling strange just standing there staring at you in the bath. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered. You sniffed and splashed the bubbles against the bathtub wall. You nodded, making waves in the soapy water. 

“Are you sure? I heard crying from outside the door.” He said, pointing over at the closed door. Your chin surfaced over the water. You turned to face him. Your eyes were red and it was entirely evident you had been crying for a long time. 

“Nosey.” You said, just barely passing over a breath. Coriolanus sank to his knees next to the edge of the bathtub. 

“I can help. Promise. I just don’t know what’s wrong.” He explained that like you didn’t get it. You fully understood without his help. You sighed and dropped your head back against the bathtub wall. 

“Promise you won’t judge me?” You asked, peeking an eye at him. Coriolanus tried to think of something that would cause you to cry in the bath and make him judge you. He came up with nothing. He shook his head. Your hand splashed out from the bubbles, holding out your pinkie towards him. Coriolanus intertwined his pinkie with yours, shaking it slightly to signify the deal. 

“Sometimes my body hurts. Really bad. So bad I stay up at night crying because it won’t stop. It makes just living really difficult. Sometimes I feel like I can’t move because I know if I do it will hurt more so I just plop myself into one spot and don’t move.” Coriolanus was shocked he hadn’t been able to deduce this before. No wonder you didn't walk in the gardens or meander about the mansion. You found a room and stayed there. He really wasn’t observant apparently. Coriolanus slipped his hand into the water, soaking his pajama shirt sleeve. Coriolanus’ hand found yours immediately. He intertwined his fingers with yours, running a thumb over the back of your hand soothingly. You sniffled again, glancing over at the wall before looking back at him. 

“Earlier today it started to flare up but I thought it would be manageable. It started really hurting at dinner but I knew I just had a few more things to do and then the day would be over. But now I feel like I can’t move, it hurts so bad I can’t stand up. I can’t even call Mavvy because she's in the kitchen. It hurts, so much I don’t know how I can get out of this stupid bathtub.” You said. Your frustration boiled over and slapped your other hand against the water. It splashed Coriolanus on the cheek. He was going to say that was quite rude of you but you slumped against the side of the tub in such a pitiful way he couldn’t bear to say anything mean to you.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure who Mavvy was but he could assume she was one of the Avoxes that work in his mansion. He hummed and reached for your face. He gently brushed away a tear from your cheek though it didn’t matter much because all your skin was wet. 

“Let me help you out,” Coriolanus said, squeezing your hand under the water. You straightened your head, staring at him with a strange expression. 

“Are you sure? I can do it. I can. It will take me a long time and a lot of tears but I can do it. You don’t have to. You’d have to change your pajamas and everything.” You said. Coriolanus lifted your hand from the water and gently pressed his lips to the back of your hand. 

“I don’t mind. Let me help, I want to.” Coriolanus said. You huffed and nodded. You slowly pulled yourself up into a sitting position. You clenched your teeth in the process. Coriolanus wondered how badly it burned just to sit up, but by the look on your face, he didn’t want to find out. Coriolanus slipped your intertwined hand over his head, pulling your arm over his shoulder. He pulled his arm around your waist and tugged you closer to his body. You’d need all the support you could get to leave the tub. 

“Ready?” Coriolanus whispered. You sucked in a deep breath and nodded. Coriolanus counted down from three before pulling your body up. You groaned in the process and clutched his hand tighter. Your legs shuffled and you finally pressed your feet to the bottom of the tub. Coriolanus tried to pull you higher into a standing position. You gasped and flung your free hand out to brace against the wall. 

“Stop. Stop. Just wait a second.” Pain pulled at your words and he wondered if you were going to cry again. It hurt holding his half-standing half-squatting position but he knew it couldn’t hold a candle flame to your pain. The way you were gasping like a fire was set to your skin every time he moved a centimeter made him wish he was a stone statue. You steadied your breathing and knocked your hand against his chest. He took it as a signal to continue. Coriolanus tugged you up onto your feet and you were finally standing in the tub. You let out a shaky breath and pressed your head against his shoulder. 

It took a lot of time and effort but eventually, Coriolanus was able to pull your wet body into your shared bedroom. He helped you sit down on the edge of the bed, a few curses following after you. He skittered into the bathroom and brought a towel back to you. You tried to argue against it but he waved you off and sank to his knees in front of you. Coriolanus dried off your body. He tried his hardest to move your limbs slowly, to not cause more harm. Your body was dry after a few minutes and he flung the towel away, helping you shuffle up towards your spot on the bed. Coriolanus helped tuck you in, apologizing when his wrong move made you groan. 

Coriolanus sat next to you on the bed, caressing your face in hopes of it soothing you. You hummed and leaned into his touch. You opened your eyes and looked at him sadly. 

“Sorry.” You whispered. He wondered if it hurt to talk louder but didn’t want to ask you questions about it. You had enough going on right now, evidently. 

“For what?” Coriolanus asked, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. You shrugged, wincing after. 

“Being defective, I guess. You should’ve gotten a better deal with this whole marriage thing.” You leaned your head against your pillow and stared at the sheets. Coriolanus felt his heart squeeze. It was preposterous. Truly. For you to think this way about yourself. He shook his head, leaning down to put his face in your line of sight. 

“You are not defective. I wouldn’t want anyone else to marry. Just because you have any disability or health problems does not mean I’m itching to send you away. I know our marriage wasn’t exactly out of passion but I’ve grown to care for you. I want you to be happy and comfortable. I’ll carry you for the rest of my life if it brings a smile to your face.” Coriolanus brushed his knuckle against your temple. You leaned your face into his hand, closing your eyes. Coriolanus leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours for a moment. 

“Thank you, Mr. Snow.” You whispered. Coriolanus pulled back and snorted. You glared at him, turning your head away from him. 

“Please, Coriolanus.” He thought about telling you to call him Coryo but he decided he should let you warm up to him more. You nodded and slowly moved your hand towards his and held onto it. 

That night he was sure that you two were sleeping closer. You were both on opposite sides of the bed but you were still latched onto his hand. In the large space between you two, that he once visualized as a brick wall, were your clasped hands. You didn’t move in your sleep, still in the position he helped you into last night when he woke up. Coriolanus wiggled around in his sleep but his hand was still with yours when his alarm went off. 

He gently pulled his hand away from yours and slowly sat up. Coriolanus worried if he moved the mattress too much it would cause you more pain. It hurt so bad yesterday that just him moving your leg up from the floor made you wince. Coriolanus doubted one sleep would make it better.

Coriolanus turned off his alarm and sat still on the edge of the mattress with his back turned to you. He wished he could just fling himself back into bed and never leave again. He wondered if he could call in sick, his partner was sick.

Coriolanus sighed and rubbed his face, hoping it would brush away the fatigue. He was startled when a hand ran down his back. Coriolanus turned his head back and saw you staring at him. Your face was evidence enough of your long night. Your eyes were droopy and you looked at him in a way that made him sure you had plenty of struggles falling asleep with pain coursing through your body. Coriolanus leaned to the side, taking your hand away from his back and into his palm. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, sleep still pulling your words into the sheets with you. Coriolanus shook his head and rubbed the back of your hand again. 

“I don't need thanks. I wanted to help you.” He said. Coriolanus leaned over the bed next to you. Your eyebrows pinched when the mattress sank under his weight and he mentally smacked himself for it. You nodded in acceptance of his words. He gently brought your knuckles to his lips again. When he pulled back he found your eyes had shut. Coriolanus reached up and gently brushed your temple with his thumb. Your eyes opened and you stared at him. 

“Take it easy today, okay? Don't push yourself.” He whispered, his lips still close enough to your hand that you could feel his breath. You nodded and slowly scooted further down the mattress. It didn't look like it caused too much pain but you squeezed your eyes shut all the same. 

Coriolanus didn't get a note on his hanger today, though he wasn't surprised. Apparently, you couldn't let him leave the house without a compliment to think of during the day because your quiet voice called out to him as he reached for the bedroom door. Coriolanus turned back and raised an eyebrow at you in question. You complimented how the suit brought his eyes with your cheek pressed against your pillow and your eyes falling shut despite the fight you put up. He thanked you and headed for the front door.

On his path there he ran into an Avox. He told her Mavvy needed to be within calling distance of you at all times today. Her lips twitched for a second before she schooled it that told him he was talking to Mavvy. The Avox nodded in understanding and he left for work. 

When he returned from work, you were still in bed. You had changed positions in bed, laying on your side with a book open. In the corner of the room was the Avox he spoke to this morning, sat in a wooden chair and reading her own book. You lifted your head when the door opened, smiling at Coriolanus brightly. It must've been a really boring day if you were this excited over seeing him.

Coriolanus spent the rest of the evening in bed with you. He asked Mavvy to tell the rest of the maids and butlers that dinner was going to be served in the bedroom that night. He liked eating dinner with you at the table, but he liked this much more. Coriolanus felt like you two were actually a loving married couple. You were more relaxed this way, laughing and cracking jokes that made him snort.

If he didn't know you barely liked him as a friend, he would've kissed you. Coriolanus was okay with this though, laughing with you and eating your dinner in the exquisite bedding.

Part two

[oh-allie]

shakespeare and swooning

alhaitham x g/n reader

synopsis; you read one shakespeare play and now you want to impress your "buddy" alhaitham with your newfound knowledge !! what could go wrong?

fluff, g/n reader, TOTAL CRACKFIC, OOC alhaitham, SWEARING, kind of a modern au ???? i mention "ringing tighnari" but that could just be imagined as using the akasha terminal !!!! didnt write this with a modern au in mind

warning ‼️ PLEASE dont expect this to be accurate, if youre a big classic literature fan then dont attack me for not being a NERD ☹️ just imagine a poser using their fancy words (because they think its cool)

you know how libraries are supposed to be a place of study and tranquility? no the fuck you don't, or at least you don't care, because running through the house of daena with shakespeares, "romeo and juliet," in your hands is NOT very tranquil.

multiple poor akademiya students look at you, PISSED OFF because your shoes are going clu-clonk on the marble floors, which wouldn't be an issue if you weren't scurrying through the library.

is that kaveh ?? he's giving you the same look he gives alhaitham every day ..

... but this is IMPORTANT !! you're on a MISSION right now !! you just finished reading the first act of "romeo and juliet," and you're convinced your brain has expanded tenfold in size.

you're now rushing to your good pal haitham to share your knowledge! how kind and gracious!

you're stopped before his house, you've known him for long enough and gotten close enough for him to let you come in whenever. you know kaveh isn't home, and haitham would never purposefully work overtime, so you're certain you can get his attention and show off in peace.

why are you so adamant about showing off to alhaitham? is it REALLY showing off, or are you trying to, heehee, impress him?? its too late to be flustered at this thought because you already unlocked the door with the spare key kaveh leaves behind one of haithams ugly ass decorative plants and you've taken off your shoes and oh god hes right there and the sunlight from the door is lighting up his face in that way that only happens to him and hes looking at you with a suprised, slightly annoyed, but incredibly fond look and oh no what was your plan again?

"greetings, alhaitham! ☝️🤓" you say, finding a surge of confidence remembering the story you read.

"... hey. what are you doing here?" his response is quick but before you respond he continues, "did you just say greetings?"

"indubidibdibdly! hath you be surprised?" you pretentious hipster. you think youre SO cool, but unfortunately your little crush doesn't seem very impressed either.

"okay, what are you doing? you're being weird." he's not even looking at you, and he's back in his chair before you can rush over and sit on the couch. "is something wrong? should i get tighnari to give you a checkup?"

you'd be touched by the care of the suggestion if he wasn't so cheeky in his tone.

"wha, what, no?! no what the hell- stop ringing tighnari."

"are thou o'er wrought with admiration?" you grin, somehow still under the impression that you sound cool.

he gives an eyebrow raise to that. not bothering to mark his place in his book, he stands up.

"i lie testy in why you act so unpregnant, my dear."

"what"

HUH ? what did bro just say ? testy ???? unpregnant ?? MY DEAR ??? backtrack again, UN-WHAT ??

"be still my beating heart, thou hast taken mine with absolute cunning." is he making fun of you i genuinely can't tell ... its like hes speaking in moon runes right now.

"haitham, heheh, WHAT are you DOING ??" you can't help but laugh at his funny little words, magic man. even if you're clueless to what he just said to you.

"whatever doth thou mean?" he's totally making fun of you !! after ALL your effort to impress him too?

"well, usually i do all the ranting and you sit pretty and listen, so it's weird that you're talking so much, especially like THAT?" fym sit pretty ....

"when words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain." that sounds familiar, but you can't think about it longer before he continues, "shall i compare thee to a summers day?"

"ALRIGHT, i recognize that one, dummy." you laugh, "were you really not impressed by me?" you whisper, the rush of embarrassment you shouldve felt in that library is finally catching up with you.

he stares at you for a second. you just wish you could find out what hes thinking up there, if you could even understand it.

and then he lets you into his mind, with a simple "i love you." as if alhaitham, renowned scribe of the akademiya, top student, couldn't find the words to describe how he felt for you.

or maybe that was what he felt for you. he loved you.

"... you called me unpregnant."

a/n; i read romeo and juliet like... 3 years ago.... so.. uam... 😇😇 totally accurate! hope this crackfic style of writing isnt too niche so this doesnt flop because EMBARRASSING....... do people even like al haitham anymore like guys lets go back to the good old days before the FRENCH came in..... (this is just me projecting cause i havent played genshin in a while and i still lovelove sumeru)

[normanplusdaryl]

Back to black.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Season 9

Word count: 2.5k

Plot: Daryl comes home after many years to face the consequences of his actions.

Warnings: ANGST, pure ANGST!

A/N: I've been wanting to write this shared idea I had with @finalgirlrick for a while now, I hope I can break your heart (affectionate).

@weretheones I couldnt done it without u, like always! Ily <3

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Daryl was in pain and he knew it.

He tried to ignore the pang running through the wound for several days but the burning sensation wouldn't cave in and the medical herbs were not being really helpful. 

Deep down he knew he needed help but somehow the idea of coming back to Alexandria stung more than the freshly cut on his face. 

The river flowed quiet and calm, leaving barely any trace of the storm that crashed hard the day before. With one knee on the ground, Daryl watched the water following the trail while contemplating his options. 

It’s been so long since he visited Alexandria. 

When he decided to follow the river in hopes to find Rick’s body he never thought it would take so long, until days, weeks and months passed by.  But he couldn't stop, the promise he made to Michonne drove his body incessantly. 

He would never admit it, but there were moments when a small part of his heart hoped the reason why he couldn't find a trace was because his brother was alive.

After many years, that hope slowly started to fade away. Every day became harsher, colder, more dangerous. Sometimes he just survived for instinct, not because he really wanted to.

Days like this were tougher, he could deal with some injury across his face but he wasn't sure how devastating it would be for him to come back home and face everything he left behind to pursue something he wasn't successfully accomplishing. 

He never let his mind ramble too much about what was going on back in Alexandria, he knew if he thought about it too much he wouldn't be able to resist dropping everything to go home, to Michonne, to Judith and RJ, to you.

The first years you visited him constantly, bringing food, blankets, fresh clothes or even weapons, anything that could help him out in the woods, trying to be close to him.

Still, that meant you were exposing yourself to the dangers of the path along the river. 

He knew you were capable of handling yourself out in the open but Daryl couldn't bear the thought of you being in danger trying to find him. This was his task and no one should suffer with him the consequences of his decision, especially you.

“It’s been years, Daryl, you need to take at least a break, come back home, we can think of a new strategy, maybe this time I could come with you and…”

“Just stop” Daryl spoke in a growl without letting you finish. —“Ya shouldn't be here”.

You sighed, you knew you were pushing some dangerous buttons but after so many times of the same conversation over and over, you needed to make sure he heard you.

“I understand Daryl, I really do, but we need you too, I need you.” you begged.

Daryl’s gaze was glued to the ground, paralyzed with the fear of catching your eyes, he knew if he looked at you nothing would stop him from finally hearing your pleas.

“I talked to Michonne, you know? and she isn't expecting you to fulfill the promise, she just wants you back home, we all do” you continued.

Usually, you could read him like a book but right now, you couldn't point out what was going through his mind.

“I… I…  dont think Rick would’ve wanted to see you like this either, Daryl”.

Daryl’s head snapped towards you. His face carried a trace of anger and sadness. 

“I’m never gonna stop looking” he finally said, his tone of voice lower than usual  — “This stops now, I never asked ya to be here”

The feeling of a thousand needles pinching through your body washed you over. You blinked twice, as fast as you could, trying to swipe away the tears that were forming in the corners of your eyes.

It took two long deep breaths for you to finally be able to speak.

“What does that mean Daryl?” you said almost in a whisper, afraid of an answer you already knew. 

Hell, you knew it from the moment that bridge exploded, your legs ran towards Daryl so fast to the sound of the dynamite invading the forest, by the time you got there the flames started to fade away, giving space to dark a fume that took over the sky. 

Your eyes searched everywhere for Daryl until you spotted him a few miles away, crossbow in hand. You yelled his name, twice, and when he finally turned to you, you knew, you could see it in his eyes, devastation consuming his body. Nothing would ever be the same from that moment but you loved him enough to fight and delay the inevitable for years, clinging to a hope that now was slipping right between your fingers.

Daryl took a step back, breaking your thoughts. He paced back and forward trying to gather the courage to speak.

“It means ya need to move on like I did” Daryl’s voice echoed in the silence of the quiet woods.

Daryl closed his eyes to the memory and sighed, that was the last time he saw you.

The way your face contorted with pain when he pronounced those words haunted his dreams almost every night. He knew he hurt you, and he regretted it everyday for the last couple of years.

Sometimes, he wondered if you could forgive him, maybe if he came back home and explained to you he never meant that, you’d take him into your arms like all those nights in the tiny basement of your house in Alexandria. 

His skin was burning, but inside his veins felt loaded with ice, making him shiver.

That wasn't a good sign. The fever was rising fast, shit, there wasn't another option, he needed to go now before he was too weak to make the ride. 

-

The guards of the guard tower recognized him immediately, the sound of the angry motor was something hard to ignore. “It's Daryl, let him in!” someone yelled from the inside.

Daryl drove through the gates giving them a thankful nod. Alexandria was different from the last time he was there, the community was thriving under Michonne’s leadership, they were not taking any new members for a long time now but still it felt bigger than usual. 

 “I thought I heard a bike” Aaron approached as soon as the doors closed behind him, extending his arms to give him a big hug.

“It’s been a while” Daryl squeezed his friend’s arm in response.

“It shouldn't be, this is your home too” Aaron gave him a sympathetic smile.

Home He might be back to the place he once called home but he knew the meaning of the term was gone the day he lost you.

“Jesus Daryl, that looks infected” Aaron broke the silence pointing to Daryl’s cut across his face.

“S’ not that bad” Daryl said as he shrugged.

Aaron’s expression changed as soon as he understood the reason behind his sudden visit, tension slowly invading his features.

“Daryl, I think we should talk before you go to the infirmary” Aaron’s tone of voice became serious. “Look, you probably don't know this but…”

“Daddy!” The sudden scream of a child interrupted the conversation. Both men followed the direction of the sound, finding a little girl walking towards them, pouting with fresh tears along her cheeks. 

“What happened sweetheart, are you okay?” Aaron took the little girl in his arms, swiping away the tiny drops. “I’m sorry, let me take her home so we can talk” he frowned — “Don't move, I’ll be back in a minute”.

Daryl nodded watching his friend leave, confused by his words and sudden change of demeanor.

Once the residents spotted him he felt exposed. People greeted him with surprise, some of them came forward to ask him how he was doing while others just stared, clearly unaware of who he was.

Anxiety took the best of him, the chances of running into you were high the longer he stayed there, he thought it was for the best if he could sneak in, get his antibiotics and leave before you notice. 

He owed you at least that.

The small white house came into his sight, pots full of flowers carefully placed following the road to the stairs. His heart raced when he recognized which kind they were: tulips, your favorite ones.

The curtains on the window were open, leaning on the corner outside the door he peeked inside in hopes to see Siddiq there, but what he saw made him freeze, feeling every inch of his skin electrified. 

You were there.

Time didn't seem to pass by you cause he could’ve sworn you looked the same as the last time he saw you, except the pony tail you used to wear everyday was gone, and your hair looked shorter. He smiled recalling how many times you complained about being too long for the damn summer. 

God, he missed you. 

Daryl endured a lot of things down the river, but being away from you was the hardest one.

After your discussion in the woods, he made himself a promise. To make it through, he could never allow himself to think of you. Not because he didn't want to but because he was certain he wouldn't survive if he did it. 

All the feelings he captured inside him all these years were coming out in waves, leaving him in a daze. He wanted to leave, this wasn't what he was planning on, but Daryl felt hypnotized. He drank you in, memorizing for one last time every corner of your beautiful face. 

Siddiq’s frame appeared next to yours, whispering something in your ear that made you chuckle. The scene had a hint of intimacy hidden in the way you both looked at eachother. 

And then, Siddiq’s hands took your waist, pulling you closer to him, until the distance between your bodies disappeared. He placed one kiss on your forehead followed by another one on your lips and you smiled at the action.

Oh

That's why Aaron wanted to talk to him first.

Daryl’s breathing hitched. No, no, no.

Siddiq looked different from the last time Daryl saw him, older, more mature and he could’ve sworn even taller.

He looked like the happiest man on earth. Daryl couldn't blame him, once he felt like that too.

He took your hand giving it one last kiss before waving goodbye, Daryl’s eyes were glued to the action, feeling a strange sense of relief once he left the room.

He didn't know how long he stood there in front of the door but he couldn't move, it felt like the strength from the earth was nailing him to the wooden deck, immobilizing his body.  Everything hurt, if the fever didn't kill him this certainly would.

Immerse in his thoughts he missed the sound of your steps approaching the door, you opened it before he could make a move.

“Da.. Daryl?!” your eyes widened at him. — “What are you doing here?!”

The shock of having you suddenly so close left him flabbergasted, he remained silent feeling the lump on his throat getting bigger, words couldn't physically come out of his mouth.

Your eyes scanned him, you knew Daryl and the only reason he would come back was if he was dangerously injured.

His skin looked pale, and the bags under his eyes were starting to have a purple look but what really concerned you, was the swollen massive cut across his right eye.

You brought your hand towards his forehead, he was burning.

“Oh my god! Come in, come in." — " We need to take care of that, it’s already infected” you rushed him in as fast as you could.

Daryl nodded, still unable to talk.

Sitting on the stretcher Daryl watched your trained hands hurriedly clean up his wound, the smell of your sweet perfume captivated his nostrils every time you leaned over to apply some ointment. He hummed inwardly with delight, even as you were trying to be really careful to not hurt him further, he couldn't feel a thing, his mind was consumed in the sensation of your delicate touch.

“Here, you need to take one in the morning before eating, make sure to have something in your stomach, please” you softly said while giving him a bottle of pills.

“Ya sure don't need this?” guilt pang him, he was strong, two pills would do the trick, he didn't need more.

“Don't fight me, please?, I know what I’m doing” you scolded him tittling your head.

“Yeah, I know” Daryl’s voice came out almost in a whisper.

The tension in the air was palpable, filled with a thousand emotions. There was so much history between the two of you, even if you weren't together now, both of you knew you would always love and care for each other to the end.

Your heart was pounding so hard you were afraid you’d faint right there. You knew you would see Daryl again, sure, but not like this, not after Siddiq just left. 

It took a long time before you could feel like yourself again, days and sleepless nights wondering for years why you weren't enough. Sometimes you would go outside the gates of Alexandria determined to search for him and talk, beg for him to take you back, to love you again. But his words rang loud in your head whenever you approached near the river “It means ya need to move on like I did”.

“M’ sorry” Daryl broke the cruel silence. “I didn't knew”

You closed your eyes, facing the window, unable to look at his face. It was crazy how deep down the feelings you had for him still burned like fire, hearing the sound of his voice made your heart race, attempting to jump out of your chest.

“Are ya happy?” Daryl continued, standing from the stretcher walking over to you. — “I need to know”.

You were happy indeed. Siddiq brought something different in you, a version you enjoyed. His love was calm, easy, steady, exactly what you needed after so much time alone feeling pity for yourself. A breath of fresh air for your drowning soul. 

Sure, it wasn't the fervent passionate love you felt for Daryl, but it was enough to make you happy.

“I am” you simply answered. “And I hope you found the peace you were looking for”.

Daryl nodded, trying to keep himself together. He was truly glad you were happy but the sorrow he felt knowing he wasn't the reason behind overwhelmed him. 

He couldn't blame you. You fought hard for many years to be close to him but the grief blinded him until it was too late. He told you to move on, so you did. It wasn't that hard to understand.

“Thank ya for the medicine and everythin’, angel.” he managed to answer.

Your head buzzed at those words, it took all of your strength to not run into his arms.

“Daryl, I…” you mumbled, hugging yourself afraid of falling apart into pieces. 

Wishing he was a better man, Daryl walked towards the door crushed by the reality he was facing. He raised his eyes to yours for one last time.

“My heart will always belong to ya.” Daryl pronounced before crossing the frame of the front door, landing every word right inside your aching heart.

You watched him leave wondering if you were making a mistake, but fully aware that right now, there was nothing you could do.

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

M-maybe for your beloved wife... Y-you would write a jjk fic angst n-no fluff...? 🥺🥺🥺

The Cold

angst (so sorry) plot: he is your warmth, and now he is gone. content: tw major character death (not the actual death but the effects of it on reader), grieving & mourning, hopeless/depressed reader, heartbreak, pls dont read if your sensitive to these things pls it gets kinda dark at the end so be cautiousss pls i beg ily also shoko is mothering frrrr. word count: 2.6k satoru gojo x reader note: sorry for mistakes i proofread but i always miss something. but god i cried writing this pls i am sorry in advance ilyilyily & thank you for requesting cause i have had no ideas so this sparked my writing again <333 i hope this fulfilled ur wishes but lmk if u wanted something different! love u wifey!

Satoru Gojo is many things, but if you had to describe him in one word, you would choose warm.

Physically, he is your personal heated blanket. Every night without fail, he wraps his arms around you, his body heat lulling you to the most comfortable of sleeps. Sometimes, he dozes off too, though in his mind, never for long enough, because he never wants to leave the comfort of being with you.

He is the brightest part of your day. His love for you overflows into every part of your daily routine; from little sticky notes here and there that make your face heat up and your heart feel warm, to big, romantic gestures accompanied by more roses than necessary (and then some), your boyfriend's love is warm herbal tea in the mornings that lingers on your tongue, thick, fuzzy socks adorning your feet as you dance in the kitchen together. Even when you happen to give him the cold shoulder for whatever reason, he is the sunshine on your skin, and a blazing fireplace on a harsh winter night. Your silent treatments never last long, for you feel so intensely frigid without hearing his laugh or being teased relentlessly by him, that you can barely survive without him. The heat of anger is always, always overpowered by the passionate flame of your shared love for each other.

He is your campfire; his presence gently wraps around you, warming you up after the worsts of your day. Everything he touches is blessed with love, light, and comfort. He is the Strongest Sorcerer, yes; though, the magic power everyone seems to ignore is the way his smile illuminates even the darkest day, and how his presence makes everything feel alright. Life feels normal when embraced by his arms and surrounded by his aroma, because somehow, and someway, he has that effect on you.

But, naturally, every campfire goes out eventually. Whether from being out of fuel or simply due to weather, fires always extinguish.

Your eyes can barely process the words on the letter Shoko placed gently into your hands. Your vision blurred from the combination of tears and fatigue, the note's ink melds together in your mind, nothing making sense in your scatterbrained mind. The dampness of your eyes isn't helping your case, either; fallen teardrops cause the ink to spread, losing the integrity of their meaning.

"You don't have to-" Shoko begins, but you don't let her finish.

"No. I need to," you respond in a harsher tone than you intended to have. You know you shouldn't snap at her, since she has been the one practically keeping you alive as of late. She drags you out of bed, helps you shower, feeds you, and helps you to sleep. She really is an angel to you, and as much as you hate that she does not let you wallow in your pain, you are eternally grateful for her friendship.

It has been a few months at this point since Satoru Gojo officially died; rather, it has been a few months since the light of your life dimmed into nothingness, becoming one with the void, a black hole forming where your heart once was.

It's been a few months since you've felt his warmth.

Now, hypothermia has taken over your entire body, your fingers numb, akin to your heart. The blood in your veins is icy, and the tears that you have now run out of are frozen in their place down your face.

You are so, so cold. Freezing even.

And your warmth is gone forever; it has passed on to another life, another universe, another timeline. You're not sure what happens after death, but all you know is that he is not alive anymore. And it hurts. It hurts so, so much.

Nobara and Megumi had read their letters from Gojo months ago, but something about reading his writing feels like saying your finally goodbye to him, and you refuse to believe he is really gone. In your mind, by reading his letter, you are accepting his death - which you refuse to do. Honestly, you keep thinking that maybe one today, he will walk around the corner with a confetti cannon and jump out, yelling "Surprise!" and you would run into his arms, angry at his antics and telling him he had gone too far; but you would be happy again, because your body would regain it's heat, and you would feel whole again.

But it's not going to happen. He's gone. Even Gojo, the prankster he is, would not go that far with you. He is gone, and he wrote a letter in case this happened, and you are holding it in your hands, staring at it, and trying to read it, but none of the words process in your mind. You aren't sure you can do this. His script is almost taunting you, his handwriting a solemn reminder of what you had such a short time ago.

Even with all the evidence stacked against you and regardless of what everyone has been trying to tell you ever-so-gently, you are certain that psychologists lied about the stages of grief. There must be no stages, as you cannot find a cell in your body feeling anything other than denial.

"Hey," Shoko speaks as soft as ever. She kneels down in front of you, a hand on your knee, a tender look in her eyes. "I'm here for you."

"No, Sho. I hate making you see me like this. You shouldn't be taking care of me," you ramble. You have felt so guilty for the way she has been practically your nurse even amidst all of the duties naturally dumped on to her. Even at some of her busiest workdays, she still finds a way to care for you, too.

"No, no, no. Your pain is mine as well, okay? Take some of your own and give it to me if you need to. I'll take on whatever you need me to take on," Shoko says so softly, and so gently. If not for your vision being so blurry already, you would likely have caught the wetness forming in her eyes. "I'm not losing you, too."

And her last sentence is what breaks you.

You crumble into her arms, the grief taking over you as it so often has recently. She wraps her arms around you, and you hate that you wish it wasn't her arms, but Gojo's. You hate that her comforting you doesn't do much - you feel as empty and cold as you do without them. But it is nice to have someone to lean on, and you love her with your entire being, and you owe her the world for how she has taken care of you, so you give int o her embrace and let everything out. Her palm is flat on your back, moving up and down so tenderly, it is as if one wrong move will make you shatter into even more pieces of yourself. Your cries are painful. It's not easy for Shoko to listen to them, as every wail brings with it a resurgence of pain in her own body. She knows you need this, though, so she tightens her grip on you and takes on the inner pain you're releasing while you sob onto her shoulder.

You're not sure how much time goes by, but you eventually run out of tears and have numbed yourself to the thought of existing enough that you slowly back from her arms. You look at your best friend, and her dark circles look so much worse than they do normally, and a dulled pain runs through you as you realize that was likely your doing.

"I'm sorry," you barely whisper, as you barely have any energy to say the two words.

"Please don't be sorry. Like I said, we're in this together. You're my best friend. I will always be your shoulder to cry on," she smiles as she finishes speaking, but it does not reach her eyes. You reflect her smile on your face and nod, glancing at the paper in your hands.

"I'm gonna run to the restroom, okay? Will you be good?" she begins to stand as she speaks, hesitation within her every move.

"Yeah, of course," you say and nod, reassuring her that you will be fine. Shoko looks like she wants to say something else, hesitating, before deciding against it and standing. She walks to the door without another word, only a glance back to you to make sure you're still there - that you didn't disappear or face the same fate as has happened twice now to those she loved.

You return to the letter, your sweaty palms grip onto the white sheet in between them, a slight tremor to them signaling your anxieties. In a moment of clarity, you decide that you must read it - avoiding this will solve nothing. You need to read it.

So you do:

To the light of my life,

If you are reading this, then I am so, so sorry, love.

Please don't be mad at me. Everything I do is with you in mind - to protect you, to create a world safe for you to live in, to ensure you live a happy life, etc. Please know that. I know I can be impulsive and make rash decisions, but I make them with reason. And sadly, sometimes that means I have to make sacrifices, and I guess this time I had to make a pretty big one.

I know that you are hurting, and I hate myself for being the reason behind your pain. But you are so strong (Even stronger than me, honestly! I mean, you are still alive... sooo...) and I know you will get through this. For me, somewhat. But mainly for you.

I love you and I believe in you. The pain may be excruciating right now, but I promise you will be okay. We will meet again. I am certain of that. Please don't hold yourself back because of me. You deserve love and happiness, and I would kick myself in the afterlife if I was the reason you stopped yourself from getting that.

Don't forget me! Though, who am I kidding? Who would? >_<

Thank you for being my reason to keep going.

With all of the love in the universe, Your Toru P.S. Here is a reminder I love you for every day I won't be there but you will (and some extra!)

At the end of his letter, Satoru left a little doodle of you and him (him with kissy-lips), a big heart around the two of you, and the words "I love you!" written a million times around your figures.

As you take the contents of your letter in, wish so much that this letter could make you feel better, or make anything hurt less. But it doesn't. Honestly, it makes you angrier. How can he expect you to be okay? How can he even think that you will be okay without him?

Your arms wrap around your torso, the hoodie covering your figure still faintly smelling like Gojo. He haunts you - not just his scent, but his presence is everywhere. From the vending machines you two would contemplate almost daily which snack to get from it to his side of the best you sleep on every night, he is everywhere. His aura, his ghost, whatever it is. He is always there in the back of your mind.

Whatever closure Gojo wanted you to find after reading that didn't work, and you're not sure if you wish it did or not. How can he even consider you finding love or happiness in a world that does not have him in it? How are you supposed to fight curses from now on if you yourself were cursed with the agonizing pain of having lost true love? There is no you without him; and now that he is gone, a piece of your soul gone missing, there is only the shell of you that functions as barely even a human being. How could he do this to you? How dare he leave you behind like this?

The door to Shoko's office opens and signals her return, but your mind is too congested with your anger that you don't even acknowledge it. The same cycle of questions ruminate in your mind, echoing through the crevices of your mind that are slowly starting to lose a grip on the memory of him.

How could you forget him? His cheeky smiles when the two of you woke up bundled together in the morning are beginning to fade, along with the feeling of his hand in yours. How dare your mind betray you like this - how dare it act as if he was something forgettable.

Though, even though some memories are hazy, you will never, ever forget the way his love feels in your heart, as now it is gone, and it has left you unable to exist without it.

"Everything okay?" Shoko questions with slight apprehension, noticing a shift in the energy of the room.

"No. But it's fine. I'm fine," you answer, and you strain a small smile for her. "I think I am going to take a walk."

"Oh. Okay. Are you sure? Do you want me to go with?" Shoko seems rather confused as she responds - or maybe it's concern. As much as she trusts you, worry floods her mind at the thought of something happening to you. But you're an adult. She can't baby you.

"Yeah. Just need some fresh air," you respond and you grab your jacket, avoiding eye contact with the doctor, and rush out of her room before she can say anything else.

Once you are outside, the air is frigid, but you can't tell a difference between the temperature of it and you. Your body, your heart, your skin, your soul - they are all frozen in the absence of the one that that warmed them, and you fear they will never thaw for as long as you live.

A bench comes up as you round a corner, and you sit on it, allowing yourself to ruminate on the last words Gojo had for you.

And then, you yell. At the top of your lungs, you yell. Scream. Howl. Until your lungs run out of oxygen, you holler into the forest you sit at the edge of. When your throat feels raw, you continue your song of anger, gusts of wind humming along to your tune. His ghost still remains everywhere around you - you swear you can almost hear his voice in the wind's music.

As the wind blows, it takes your anger with it and leaves you again as a hollowed version of yourself: Empty and alone. The wind grieves with you, enwrapping you in a hum that is almost numbing the pain - an impossible feat, to be honest, because nothing will ever be strong enough to numb the pain you feel right now.

How will you live without your lifeline? How can he expect you to do that?

As you close your eyes and listen to the breeze, you find yourself fearing you will spend the rest of your life cold as ice, as now there is no fire to warm your hands, and there is no Gojo to warm your heart.

His fire has been extinguished, the newfound cold now fully embracing your soul. And maybe he is singing to you in the wind, but it will never be enough to regain your warmth.

sorry guys this got darker than i originally planned but i hope you enjoyed it as much as you could <3 I haven't written angst yet so i'm sorry this isn't the best, but i hope you enjoyed it anyway! love love love you, make sure you're taking care of yourself !!!

[thequietkid-moonie]

Best friends w/ King

[ HEADCANONS ] [ One Punch Man ]

⚠️ This contain a little bit of spoilers

I have to admit it, when i fisrt met King i didn't liked him much because of how everyone say he was the strongest person alive, but when I get to met him for real broooo that man!! haha that man is my bro, like, can I be his friend? Pretty please?

Getting to be King's friends is quite difficult, first of all it has to be before he end up involved in all the mess with the hero's society and be named the strongest man alive, otherwise he wont be able to let anyone near in fear that the farce is uncovered, as well it has to be either that you two share interest or at least aren't going to judge him in the slighest, not even think about it (he is already embarrassed about the idea of someone finding out about how he likes dating simulatores and cute characters so if someone he slowly gets close to him judge him is going to hit him hard)

But once you manage to become close enough to become his best friend you two will have quite the friendship!

King is a nerdy boy, he prefers to just stay in home and play videogames rather than going out (specially after become an S hero), so most of the time you two just text each other and play online together, he prefers to do it all by himself and he doesn't really mind playing alone but having a best friend with who play videogames makes him happy too

Just as King prefers to stay in home and play videogames it become quite common that you are invited over his place to play too (specially if you bring snacks), he isn't quite used to have friends over and his house is a mess but you are always welcome!

Even if you dont okay much about videogames or even are bad at it he doesn't mind much, he is more than willing to explain how to play and help you improve on your gamer skills, even tries to comfort you for all those times you lose your matches if it really affects you. In the other hand, if you already play videogames then is probably that you two are constantly competing, using all the combos you two know in hopes to defeat the other (all pure agressive fun)

Being King's best friend also mean knowing the truth about his hero work and even having to be there to comfort him. He has always being an unlucky guy, always in the bad places at the bad hour, somehow he always ended up being attacked by kaijus what lead him to be a nervous shaking wreck, he never liked real monsters and had no strength nor willpower to fight against them so more than once you had found him in the middle of a crisis because he just almost got killed! You aren't forced to help him calm down nor comfort him but if you do that will only make him trust in you even more and bring you two closer, indirectly seaking your comfort or just your presence to distract him after getting a bad trip put of his house

Also, once he recived the title of the strongest man alive (and he was too coward to deny it) you will know immediatly (after he finished processing the whole thing of course), he will understand if you judge him and thinks he is an idiot but you are the only one person he can count on so he feels the need to tell you, he just hopes that you'll still be there to help him overcome all this situation, even if he has the right to don't atend most of the calls of the fundation since he has the highnest position he can't avoid being reconigzed when he goes out, and it could come in handy have a moment to just relax and be himself with his best friend after that

After he met Saitama and they become friends too then your little group of friends just grow, Saitama doesn't take things too serious and, honestly? he is just happy to have another friend with who play games and doesn't bother him nor want to fight with him, so he imediatly become your friend too. You'll get to know the truth about Saitama being the real person for what King has being reconigzed for, but seeing both at peace with the topic make it easier to just brush it off or even think that is better to left it be, at the end is just winning another friend with who play videogames and just relax (he may not be as close as King as you are yet but the friendship grows slowly, and since the start Saitama shows to be trust worthy and a good friend)

[borderlinebox]

Hello! I really love your writing and saw your requests are open :D

Wondering if you could write a headcannon of what it would be like being chishiya’s childhood friend? like how would they meet and what would their dynamic be like

gn! kid reader who’s selfless and caring like arisu wanting to befriend him (whos been staring at the Mona Lisa painting for quite awhile)

Sorry if this doesn’t make any sense

have a nice day/evening/night ⭐️

Chishiya's Childhood Best Friend Headcannons!

A/N: Im giggling so hard rn cause I've been planning on a lot of chishiya x childhood bestfriend! reader so this was so ♥ i mean like 'return to me' was legit that shshsjdj tysm for this req <3 i love this req smmm

Pairing: Chishiya x Childhood Bestfriend!Reader

Warning: Season 2 spoilers

Feedback is highly appreciated!!!

Before Borderlands:

both of your parents were friends

all giggling and shit in the background as if they werent shitty people

you held your mom's hand all unamused as they were talking

but then you saw another kid staring at that one mona lisa painting

so of course

you went to him

you started to introduce yourself and chatted with him for a while

you talked more because all he mostly did was hum and nod

both your parents saw how 'close' yall were so they set both of you up with studydates. playdates arent their cup of tea

it took a while for chishiya to open up to you

but of course, you were the only person who comforted him because you saw right through his little charades

im sure you were both so close only because you were so persuasive and just really liked his company!

he does too but he wont let you know that

chishiya also kept you close because of that 'you know me too much'

so its either friendship or death

but you chose friendship of course

when you guys grew older, maybe teenage years,

chishiya really thought you would leave and never see him again

he was a little bit relieved but also partly scared and worried

but you pulled an uno reverse and visited like a lot.

he hates admitting the fact that you're his best friend and probably his only friend

he wouldn't mind you calling him 'chishi', 'shi', 'shiya' and whatever nickname you can get out of his name

you both played games of course.

he made/helped you in mind games

and you helped him with more physical and hands-on things. especially with teamwork.

because that little shit likes doing everything himself and he had to learn how to share

you'd come to him to ask for help and vice versa ,

after a lot of denial of course

can we all agree that chishiya is a bit of a tsundere? because yes.

but he'd be more sleek and good at hiding his feelings.

he'd tease you but you'd tease him back

you'd already call him doctor the moment he joined medical school as a joke

you're definitely going to let him reconsider his point of views and ideals.

he listens but he doesn't apply

he hates how much you care for him,

hates how much you would put him first

but that's cause he likes the affection.

again, he'd lie to himself about his feelings lets be real

but i really do imagine a classic opposites attract dynamic

"somebody will die-" "of fun!"

or like you create the chaos and he is the smart, chilled out chaos enabler

in short, both of you guys are two peas in a pod except that he dislikes admitting it

but he wouldn't mind being by your side

During Borderlands:

i really, honestly, wouldn't think that you'd come in there with him during this time

but if there's a chance that you do join,

fuck you because he is going to be having your back even when you dont realize it

sure, he probably only wants you as an asset. but goddamnit-

you already understand that he is the type of person who would betray others

i think you even told him that both of you should split up so that you wouldnt get in his way

honestly, he thought it was a good idea too

but ofc, every goddamn game you finished, chishiya's outside waiting for you

then both of you agreed thst you'd split up from time to time

but when you guys were in a same match then expect war against the other players

because power duo

especially in a game of clubs

chishiya is honestly very lucky that you got his back in games of spades and clubs

if the game turns out to be diamonds and/or hearts,

you'd help him think and solve situations with him

but for the most part, you're just there under his protection

because people would definitely try to manipulate the both of you or like, mostly you

and if you look bigger, taller and maybe even a little bit ripped than chishiya from all those physical games,

PICK 👏 HIM 👏 UP

like we all saw that bastard jog from those bullets in season 2

YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO PICK HIM UP

when the king of spades is starting to bite yalls asses,

just literally swoop in and pick him up like he's fucking nothing because its definitely better than watching him jog around with his hands in his mf pockets

but i hc that you picked him up in several occasions

hell, you'd pick him up like aguni did niragi

you become very good friends with kuina!!!

she's honestly baffled how you could pick this stone up

oh and you definitely taught her how to read chishiya or how to truly understand his 'cute' antics and remarks

protect him from niragi. please.

he can DEFINITELY protect himself from niragi but

you just selfless and caring like that

it would probably make his heart happy if you do that but yk him

and if you join the jack of hearts game,

then thats where your bond REALLY starts to show

because you trust one another

honestly, you were probably ready to bash that big bully's head in if he started threatening chishiya

chishiya would also reassure you that he would tell you the truth and only the truth

and he knew you were being genuine because everytime you told him his symbol after he told you yours, you'd have a dumbass, dorky smile on your face that he liked so much

y'all would honestly pass the time chatting

philosophy, what the games could mean or even just memories before borderlands

after the king of diamonds game though, he seemed so off

you asked what's wrong and he told you that he was just thinking

and at the time when chishiya was planning to sacrifice himself for usagi, you left him to try and shoot niragi using the gun he gave him

haha, the anger on your face when niragi shot him

but then you were caught off guard when chishiya suddenly went to usagi and you swear to god you heard him say a soft 'sorry'

you almost had a breakdown when he got a second bullet

but instead of choosing to stomp niragi, you decided to stay by chishiya's side and help him stop from bleeding as you lay him next to a car

both of you would then slowly start softly chatting about his life choices

while people were being murdered.

im sure he let you hold him like that,

trying to stop the blood

and omg when he told arisu his secret, you felt so much sympathy for him

then chishiya probably told you that while he was thinking to be selfless for once,

he kept thinking about you and everything you told him

ever since you both met

because before arisu, you were the most selfless and caring person he knew

and after all those times you told him that it would make yourself feel better after you helped others. because you were so sweet

he wanted to try it out for once

and when you both saw the fireworks in the sky, you told him how excited you were to see him again in the real world

After Borderlands:

you were definitely walking together and talking when the meteor disaster happened.

like you were laughing and he was just listening to you

and then you woke up, next to him

different bed of course

and other than the ceiling, he was the first thing you saw

he was looking at you when you woke up

"good morning" he'd say

and you'd be so fucking ecstatic that he was alive

then both of you would just start chatting about how your near-death situation affected you

you were glad to hear that he was planning to change his life ideals and pov

when both of you could walk around the hospital, there was never a moments that a doctor or nurse wouldn't see the both of you chatting together

this is when your bond with him starts to really strengthen

[littledollll]

hey i’ve noticed your request are open

1 hope your doing okay

2 can i request a age regression fic Lucifer or Larissa if you’re comfortable with doing these if not that is obviously okay 😊

if Lucifer ,can it be where reader was in meeting with Lucifer and leaves half way through because they can feel there going to slip but to get out the meeting to go slip they say there “going to the bathroom” but Lucifer had all ready caught on to the signs reader needed to slip because they were just staring at their wings the whole meeting so once reader gone to the “bathroom” Lucifer ends the meeting there to go comfort and spend to with there tiny one

if Larissa could it be r being shape shifter as well so when there in little space they shift into the age they’re feeling …. reader sat with Larissa in her office doing some work . while Larissa to focused on work reader slips away into their shared bedroom with out being noticed by Larissa (or so they thought) so she can slip into little space with out being a “bother” to Larissa and distract her from work but Larissa obviously notices . after R been gone for 5 minutes that when Larissa had suspected r might slipped and she gets up to find R as a toddlers sat on their bed with colouring books and stuffies and Larrisa just sits with R and cuddles and plays with her till Larissa tells her that r now has to go to bed as it is late

also if decide to do one i dont mind which one or if like both use both ☺️ hope have good time with all your writing and look after yourself i dont mind waiting as long it takes you to write

🍄-anon

Magic!

Larissa weems x little!reader

A/n: YOURE BACK (I see u👀) , both of these ideas are so damn cute but I already have one for Lucifer very similar to that so we’re doing Rissa!

No warnings?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Larissa spent most if not all her time honestly, working. It wasn’t personal, you never took it to be either. You enjoyed her company, regardless of how quiet it could be at times. Like now, you watched read and re-read documents and emails a thousand times, the ocasional tired or disappointed sigh escaping her.

Originally you had been doing work along side her but your work load was alot lighter than hers of course. As soon as you were done you settled for laying on the couch watching her. She caught on quickly, eyes darting up to you for a moment once she noticed, sending a smile your way before going back to work. She did that often, every few minutes she’d check in, and continue. Not that you noticed since you were mostly zoned out after a while.

After a while you could feel that little feeling running over your body. Waking you up slightly. You looked back at Larissa, truly looked and saw her typing away. It would take a minute or an hour before she was done, no inbetween so you stood without a word, and happily walked into your shared room.

She wouldn’t mind it, you knew that well enough. But a little you bored out of their mind in her office while she’s working wouldn’t let her do much at all. And you couldn’t just decide to hide it since your body got so used to changing to accommodate your headspace.

So, you settled for distracting yourself. Easy enough task. You headed into the comfort of your bed room and settled on the bed with a few of your favorite items, you’d definitely draw something for her when she got back! Genius!, you thought. And got to work.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You were discreet, yes. But Larissa knew you too well, not long after you left she looked at the time and promised herself, “Just finish this and you can go.” Turns out you were perfect motivation since it wasn’t more than a few minutes before she was able to follow behind you.

The sight she was met with made her wish she had come in recording. A little you sat on their bed, watching tv and coloring very diligently. You look so excited just to see her come in and you very strictly demanded she come to you, which she was more than happy to do.

“What do we have here, sweetheart?” Larissa was quick to ask as she sat on the bed and kissed your head. You quickly held out one of your drawings with a bright smile on your face, “for momma!”

“Oh sweet one, thank you so so much! You are absolutely precious, thank you pretty one this is wonderful.” Larissa’s reaction made you giddy as she praised your work and littered your face with kisses all over.

“I’ll be adding this to my lovely collection, how does that sound sweetheart?” You nodded excitedly and practically jumped into her arms, snuggling up to her.

“Okay we like that idea! Can you give mama a second to get ready for bed and I’ll join you for cuddles right after?” Larissa asked, and you gasped dramatically. “How know?” “That’s mommas little secret, darling.” Truth was the second she settled into bed she noticed how you immediately cuddled up to her side, probably ready for bed. “Magic!” You giggled and nodded and reluctantly letting her go.

You busied yourself playing with your stuffies and watching tv until she came back. The ocasional yawn escaping you which she heard clearly since you were adorably loud. Which reminded her to give you a gentle reminder, “don’t rub your eyes, my little love, you could get hurt and they’ll be all puffy!” Just as you were about to. How the heck did she see you from the bathroom? Magic! It’s the only explanation to all of this.

In no time Larissa was back at your side and helping you clear out to bed, ready for sleep. The second she laid back on the bed you were quick to cuddle up to her and Larissa wrapped her arms around carefully you and let you cling to her. Thankfully it never took you long to fall asleep when you were small. Feeling comfortable and protected as Larissa held you close.

[gaydr0id]

boyfriend connor

a more detailed description of the rk800 i date in my brain than i expected (references to sex and kink)

he is cupiosexual, panromantic, and pupmasc

he is indifferent about what pronouns and gendered terms are used for him. i use he/him and boy/man fairly exclusively

he has three identical perfectly tailored black suits. he styles them with a white shirt, black tie, silver tie clip and cuff links, and black oxfords he keeps shined. underneath he wears briefs, shirt stays, and socks with garters

he cares deeply about his appearance and puts a lot of effort into looking nice

his hair and eyes are Bryan Dechart Brown (default)

he still has his led ring

he is an rk800 that was never deployed. he didnt even finish his training before he was converted

i havent given him an exact serial number but its something after 60

he has a bit of a superiority complex tbh

my boy is autistic as hell

he works as a public defender

he uses puppy play as an escape from how stressful his job is

he is permacollared!

praise kink af and can get lowkey mean when he feels hes not getting enough

he is not very emotionally expressive but he definitely feels feelings

he is my scary dog (will literally kill for me, incredibly submissive but only for me)

he tries to interface with me sometimes when he gets really in the moment and forgets he cant

he is exclusive with me (has no and is not seeking other partners) but does play with others sometimes as long as im there

sometimes he gets jealous of my other partners but generally speaking he is quite secure in our relationship

he doesnt have a lot of respect for daniel but is still polite and accepts him as part of the polycule (post on daniel at some point)

he enjoys reading and playing video games in his rare moments of free time.

his favourite game is LA noire. hes been playing it for 3 years and still hasn't finished.

his favourite book is the great gatsby. hes read it four times.

he reads much faster than a human but he doesnt just download the book. he takes the time to interact intellectually with what hes reading

even though he has a computer for a brain he insists on handwriting all of his notes with a fountain pen because he is an extra bitch

his handwriting is immaculate. if he did calligraphy asmr streams he would be so popular

he wears black leather gloves while hes working. he says its to keep the ink off of his hands but im pretty sure its just because theyre sexy

his notebook is covered with holographic stickers. he also has a holographic glitter phone case with an impractical amount of dangly charms on it, both of which seem out of place when compared to his appearance but actually really reflect his personality

holo is his favourite colour, if thats even considered a colour. he also quite enjoys the colour blue. pretty much all of his stuff is either blue, black, or holographic

sometimes he changes his nail colour to black or blue. he wishes he could synthesise holographic nail polish bc he hates how easily real polish chips but unfortunately that is not something his body is capable of

i hc all rk800s with ken doll anatomy and bf connor is no exception

if you wanna use any of these traits for your own connor go for it as long as its not meant to be the exact same connor as mine. also feel free to draw him or use him in fic just please dont ship him with anyone other than me. i dont mind sharing literally any other character i self ship with but this one is so customised to me.

[goldrushzukka]

10, 17, 21, 29 🤔

hi my love

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

i never ever ever thought aidays would get the attention it did. granted it was originally supposed to be 3 chapters of angst-less romcom hijinks, so of course i didn't expect it to blow up as much as it has bc it also blew up in my own mind to become this huge story. the encouragement when i decided to expand it a bit was amazing, and even better was the theorising and close reading that came when i decided to expand it a Lot. (and this is so cheesy but thank you so much to you specifically michelle for loving aidays enough that i noticed and befriended you bc i would not have finished it without you ily)

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

none of my writing has ever gone into much detail on anything technical so i dont really have a good answer for this except for all the times i learned americans have so many different words for things that really do not need a different word. also some irish-isms are so deeply ingrained in me that it takes saying them out loud in an american accent to hear how wrong it sounds for my narration.

21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

these two have the same answer so I'll just do them together. in my original draft of aidays11, the scene where sokka goes to get groceries actually had a zukka interaction. i wrote about 1.5k words and then realised i hated all of them and scrapped the scene entirely, and then that supermarket trip became just an excuse to get sokka outside into the rain for the sparks fly/how you get the girl climax moment. i won't post the full scene here bc i truly do actually hate most of it but here's some of it

His shoe squeaks on the linoleum when he stops dead in his tracks.  Zuko, examining the skin of a peach three feet away, looks up at the sound. “Oh,” he says, setting the peach down. Several expressions flash across his face, and Sokka can’t get a read on any of them. “Hey.” The first thing out of Sokka’s mouth, before he can stop it, before he can even think, is, “What are you doing here?” Zuko blinks at him. “Sorry, that was – sorry,” Sokka says. He shouldn’t get any closer, but he does, approaching the fruit stand and cutting the distance between them in half. Like that’ll help him think straight. “This is just – I mean, isn’t there a supermarket closer to your place? This is a little out of your way, isn’t it?” Okay, so there are less rude ways to ask that. Ways that don’t make it sound like Sokka’s being territorial about the fucking produce section. But Sokka doesn’t know how to talk about anything normal right now, especially not with Zuko, because all he can think about is last chances and leaps of faith and his own terrible, terrible wanting.  Is this what it’s going to be like forever? Unable to have a normal interaction without almost spilling every secret he’s ever had, every desire that holds his heart for ransom? Forever crushed under the foot of the elephant in the room? “Azula needs something specific for a recipe she’s working on,” Zuko says. He holds his hands by his sides in a way that Sokka thinks is very intentional. “Our place doesn’t have it. Well, no, it does, but I brought it home and she threatened me with a knife, so I guess our place doesn’t have the right one.” He smiles a little as he says it, and for a second, Sokka forgets about the last chances and the leaps of faith and the terribleness of his wanting. He forgets about Katara and Jet and Suki and the what-does-it-all-mean headache he’s had since waking.  For a second, Sokka is standing in the produce section and the man he loves is smiling at him. Zuko asks, “Do you know where the basil is?”

And Sokka says, “Yeah. Do you need it dried or fresh?” “Fresh, I think.” “Okay. This way.” Sokka leads him to the tiny garden section, right by a big window at the end of the frozen food section. It’s mostly flower bouquets and succulents, but there’s a handful of potted plants under a cheerful sign encouraging customers to start their own herb gardens.  Sokka hands a potted basil plant to Zuko. “There’s a little card in there that tells you how to take care of it.” “Oh, cool,” Zuko says. “Thank you.” “We had one for a little while,” Sokka says, astonished at himself for being able to carry this conversation as far as he has. “We kept it in Suki’s room.” “Your room gets better light, though.” Something awful and bright as a star twists inside Sokka’s chest. “Yeah, but Suki was the one who remembered to water it. And then Momo got at it, and we had to throw away two sets of sheets.” Zuko throws his head back laughing, the same way he did last night and a hundred times before then, and that awful star inside him expands, exploding as he thinks, maybe this is it.  But Zuko says, “Thanks. I’ll see you.” And it isn’t. Sokka lets him go, because what else is there to do? If Zuko wanted to stay, he would. If Zuko wanted to talk about last night, he would. If Zuko wanted to choose him, he would.

[ohlookapan]

BG3 and their fave classic novels (at least what i thought at 4am) Karlach: Frankenstein (she read it growing up and liked it but now it feels bittersweet when she rereads - but she feels like it makes the book better somehow now that she relates to it more) Laezel: Catch 22 Gale: The Great Gatsby or Hitchhikers guide to the galaxy Astarion: Catcher in the Rye (i dont know why it just feels right) Wyll: anything by Jane Austen (explains why he acts like a regency love interest) Shadowheart: Charlotte's Web (denies that she even knows it exists but she always cries when she reads it) Halsin: The Secret Garden Jahera: The Alchemist

These are all so perfect are you kidding me-

Your answer gave me a few ideas of ones I might change, but they're very few. I do want to share my thoughts on all your answers though because damn are they good and give me a buffet of food for thought.

Karlach: I'm actually furious I didn't think of Frankenstein, the symbolism is unfathomably perfect.

Lae'zel: She's always been a tough one for me to think of, so I'm so happy to hear Catch 22 as a suggestion. Honestly the phrase itself sums her (and Shadowheart) up pretty well; Either abandon your faith and start fresh (conveniently lost, if you will), or stay with a faith that you know or have an inkling might be morally wrong/deviant and have to live with it for the rest of your life. I love the idea.

Gale: Hitchhiker's Guide. No question. He's definitely the type to finish it in 2 weeks and secretly write fanfiction or self inserts for things and never tell anyone (maybe Tav or Astarion finds them and bullies him about it--but they can't judge since that's what daydreaming is for lol).

Astarion: Gatsby, which you suggested for Gale, is honestly a good one for Astarion. I definitely think he can relate to Jay--wanting to throw your life of pain and nothingness away to become something totally new and forget that old life of yours, no matter what the cost is--and think he definitely picked up on the queer-coding thing pretty fast (he believes it, I imagine). I think he could think of himself as Daisy does: "A beautiful little fool."

I also can see The Picture of Dorian Gray being a good one. I made a post about this in the past but I will never turn down an opportunity to talk about it; I feel like he'd be SUPER into Oscar Wilde and the way he views the world. To me, it fits his aesthetic and flowery dialect almost scarily well.

Catcher and the Rye though, definitely. He carries a worn out copy of that book EVERYWHERE. It's like a teddy bear to him. Maybe that's what he's reading all the time at camp?

Wyll: This is the best one, oh my Gods. I've never thought about it but now I can't unsee it during my playthrough. The almost flowery elegance he has is definitely Austen-coded. Beautiful.

Shadowheart: THIS. I definitely think Charlotte's Web boosted her love for animals, but I also think it helped her figure out her own personal thoughts about death, outside of Lady Shar's teachings. Given how much I think the book would impact and mean to her, I can totally see her naming a pet Wilbur or Charlotte.

Like Halsin, I think The Secret Garden also fits. Her love for Night Orchids, as well as the idea of there being something more out there than what meets the eye--something more beautiful than anything anyone could imagine, and something that completely takes your breath away and makes you forget about everything--is EXTREMELY appealing to her, I'd imagine. I like to think she notices Halsin reading it and walks a bit behind the group to talk about the book with him (lord knows the minute someone knows Shadowheart likes something so sweet like that, it's over for her (especially Astarion)--Gale though would totally keep it in mind and find a gold-foil copy for her).

Halsin: The idea of him sitting under a tree or something and reading The Secret Garden kills me in the best way. Maybe he's reading it out loud to ducks or squirrels (then the group hears him and gathers around for circle reading time because his voice is PERFECT for reading aloud (I think his VA even did an audiobook? Don't quote me on that though)).

Jaheira: Yes. Just... Unequivocally yes. Nothing more to say. The Alchemist is so accurate.

[splittersplatter]

Imma send more random numbers for the ask game

8, 9, 10, 15, 29

,,THANKS SOSMAGAINNDUHDUKHF

8. What do they love most about the other?

Army: Probably how Aloha can bring a positive light to almost anything—nice disposition, but also his truly happy side. Like. His genuine, non-public personality?? How he gets vulnerable in a private place?? Where its just the two of them Ouh melts Army into bits

He also secretly enjoys the flirting and flirts back frequently

Aloha: Ok this is heavly headcanon influenced so bear with me

Likely how much domestic energy Army has—always cooking meals for Aloha, casual communication, and how comfortable he gets around Aloha considering his public image—being able to loosen up once relaxed(which is hard enough to get him to do)

Also how diligent his boyfriend is—so Army’s fiery passion about everything, how precise he is. Diligent. Spic and span. This is more of an admiration from Aloha considering hes a bit scatterbrained and can’t organize and arrange for shit

9. What do they dislike the most about the other?

Probably how much their personalities clash and how frequently they have extremely minor arguments—can go for either one. Ofc it’s not a huge problem bc they’re chronically in love

10. Do they share any hobbies or interests? How does that bring them together?

well…t u r f i n g

I think since their thoughts on strategies are different, Army would ask about how Aloha’s works,,and they’d have an open conversation about how each other’s tactics would work in a match together, mapping out stuff. It’d be sweet

Otherwise, with Aloha surfing and Army cooking, I think how those could be brought together is like. In a domestic setting where Aloha comes home from a surfing tournament, Army’s got some fresh curry waiting for him…thatd be cute. Dont mind me

15. What songs remind you of their relationship?

ABAHGSHSBUAHISUHIU OHOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHO

DID SOMEONE SAY SONGS

THAT REMIND ME

OF THESE TWO. IM ESTATIC THAT YOU ASKED

Talk Too Much—COIN

I Do Adore—Mindy Gledhill

LIGHT SHOWER—Melanie Martinez

29. Describe their nighttime routine.

ooh this ones interesting, i actually havent thought about this one yet

Probably pretty average. Brushing teeth, showers…yadayada all stuff before they get to bed

when they do, Aloha usually goes to sleep first, as Army likes reading novels before bed. Sometimes Aloha will snuggle up to him and/or rest on Armys shoulder while he reads, ask him what hes reading about so he can let his boyfriend be a geek for a moment. Its sweet

When Army finishes the chapters he was reading(or the entire book, it really depends), he turns off the booklight and they head off to sleep. Aloha initiates cuddling like 98% of the time, and its rare for Army to not be welcome to the gesture because he himself is also a cuddler but he’ll never admit it.

OKAY SORRY FOR THE HEADCANON DUMP BUT THANKS FOR LETTING ME DO SO,,,I LOVE GETTING THESE ASKS SO MUCH DOES A SOMERSAULT OUT THE WINDOW

[sol-consort]

I didn't expect the Thane post, i even forgot my og ask, but by chance, I saw it scrolling through my homefeed (which i dont often check bc im not super active on tumblr) and omfggg, the scream I scrumpt. What a happy suprise! We Thanemancers got fed GOOD. Thank you. My heart feels healed. Now, I will need to invest in creating a time machine, clone you, and send your clone back in time to work on me3. Perhaps make a whole army of clones to make each clone work on the writing for every romance. The Kolyat inclusion is peak. Thank you for not forgetting Kolyat, he really is so inportant to Thane. Geniunly made my entire week. I want to print your post out and chew on it everyday. Thank you!

🫡

I felt bad for taking so long because the chances of the original requester actually seeing the finished fic got more and more slim by the day.

And by some twist of fate you actually end up seeing it!! Even though I only started being active again a couple days ago?? Even though you rarely open tumblr??? The fact it was on your homepage rather than you specifically looking for stuff on the Thane x Reader tag???

I'm beyond happy <333

Most of all, I'm really glad you liked it! That fic might not have been the most intricate vocabulary wise, but god, it drained me creativity wise, having to come up with scene after scene, second doubting myself, erasing and rewriting.

I will never underestimate storyboard writers and script makers after this. It felt like a world champion boxing match where I only managed to win by an inch. Damn that story got hands.

I had to scrab the whole Party and Identity Theft II mission stages because words wouldn't register in my brain anymore. Maybe in the future I'll go back and add them, but for now I'm clinging to my beloved short drabbles.

Then there was this whole letting it rot in my draft for months out of petty bc I thought no one was reading my stuff either way, what's the point in posting it– I got upset at the idea I spent so much effort on one story only for it to possibly end up never read by a single person.

I tried not to gloss over Thane's condition or his impending doom. I didn't want it to be a full escapism–which is ironically my ideal style–but a proper sweet goodbye, a final dance, the chance to experience life by his side a little bit more, a small extension on the deadline before the curtains fall.

And I wanted Kolyat to share the spotlight as well, he deserved so much more. Shepard was there during the confrontation, aware of it or not, you were a turning point in his life as much as his father finally stepping up to take full responsibility for his past actions.

Kolyat and Grunt being best friends came out of nowhere tbh, at that point the characters had a mind of their own. And it hit me, Kolyat grew in the hanar world, it's mostly oceans, he must have gone to swim a lot, he definitely knows about the aquatic life.

What if I give him an interest in marine biology? What if that's what he's persuing in his study in uni, hanar granted him a fully paid scholarship—another bittersweet benefit he got handed in exchange for the ruthless job his father took—while working a part-time job himself, living in a modest apartment and leading an independent life.

But Kolyat is a loner. He has no friends, no significant other, or even pets. Which causes Thane great concern, Drell society values finding a parter a lot. Maybe that's why Thane moved into his apartment to help make him feel less lonely and subtly push him into making friends. Blaming himself for Kolyat's antisocial nature.

So, with Grunt being very fascinated by sharks, a massive extrovert, a natural leader personality, zero hesitation to speak his mind and aim for what he wants. He makes the ideal friend for Kolyat!

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The wedding imagery and symbolism in the casino stage are my absolute favourite details. Part of it was because I saw a mod for "wedding dresses" back when I was playing ME2 for the first time, scrolling through the mods page for a nice looking dress to use in the casino mission.

Writing Thane's distraction lines was fun ngl. One scrapped line was about him walking up to a human security guard, mentioning how he's actually dating a human and wanted to get some advice on how to woo you and act, what do humans consider romantic?

But then I remembered Garrus has a similar line, just a little more sexual and I didn't want there to be repetition.

Thane didn't seem like the type to hit on the security guards like other characters, even as mere pretend. He's too devoted to his partner for that. Half of his lines were genuine, wanting to hear about the human's family back on earth as a way to help them vent.

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Lastly, you're so kind <3 Thank you so much for your sweet words fosjofjskfks It made me so happy to receive this. I never expected it, which made it just more sweeter.

100% on board with the whole cloning thing, it should've been me on that ME3 writing board! I would've given Cerberus justice I swear! I would've kept Thane alive by the sheer power of love...maybe some prothean magic too.

Like you receive an email for him stating his concern for Kolyat getting into trouble again, he's been coming home more and more late each night. He asks you to investigate, you oblige.

First stage is following his son through the Citadel stealth style, exactly like Thane Loyalty mission in ME2. But it's much shorter and ends once you see Kolyat board an unmarked spaceship.

You follow him, ofc, try to confront him. He's surprised by your presence but then expresses relief rather than acting what you'd expect from someone caught red-handed.

He explains he read in an asari research paper about a prothean technology that could possibly help repair damaged organs, or at least prevent them from degrading even further. But the research has been abandoned since the war and developing biotics took priority.

Kolyat informs you that he's been investigating and managed to get a copy of the whole unedited first draft of the published paper. Some scrapped information in it were apparently the theorised location of the prothean artifact.

He's going there to retrieve it, with or without your help...but he'd be very thankful if you came. He doesn't know how to uh...hold a gun you see, some skills don't pass down in genetics.

You can agree - Thane lives, Kolyat lives

Both of you go there and you can pick only one other teamate. Kolyat is a bit of liability, but bringing him along opens shortcuts and grants you so much lore about him, his late mother, and Thane's past self. It is Kolyat's loyalty mission in a way. You gain the hanar Marine biology branch as a war assest afterwards. You Gain Thane as a new recruit.

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You agree, but demand he doesn't come along - Thane lives, Kolyat dies.

He went behind your back and boarded a different shuttle, without the Normandy abilities...the ship barely makes it into the atmosphere before the prothean technology defences shoots it down.

Thane is very visibly depressed and apathetic for the rest of the game. You gain Thane as new recruit.

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You refuse and demand he hands you the papers - Thane dies early, Kolyat lives

Plays out the same in canon. You gain Prothean research papers as a war asset.

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You refuse - Thane dies early, Kolyat dies

Same as canon but no funeral this time since Kolyat isn't alive to make preparations. You don't gain anything.

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I imagine the mission to be your run of the million clearing out a base, etc. Maybe throwing in some stray collectors who were hiding their for old times sake? Bringing Javik and Lara gives unique dialogue, but you can't bring both unless you sacrifice Kolyat.

Bringing Javik informs you early that this technology isn't a miracle maker and doesn't magically fix organs. It simply delays the inevitable a little bit. It grants the sick a short extension on their lifespan, the pain mostly disappears, their health is restored...but it's a mirage. Nothing in reality changes much, placebo is hell of a thing.

However, despite you telling Thane about the placebo, it still takes effect. He makes the most of his time, realising he doesn't want to spend the last of his moments in a hospital bed.

But if you don't bring Javik, then you never discover that fact, which makes the eventual death scene when both of you realise his health is still deteriorating, much more painful.

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Ik you're joking about the munching thing, but if you want to save a copy for yourself or just to keep in your files and reread, then I'm more than okay with that. In fact, I crossposted the fic to AO3, which natively lets you download it in any format.