#i swear im going to draw something else sometime i swear

[escargoonie-goo]

mhm you won't believe who I drew again

[luvbinnies]

i made a promise, to distance myself

A boy who kept his feelings locked away and someone who wore their heart on their sleeve. When he walked away, it was without warning, without reason. And they refused to wait for an explanation. Now few months later, forced to work together on a project neither can escape, old wounds resurface. Silence turns into stolen glances, resentments bleeds into something dangerously familiar, and the past refuses to stay buried.

Genre: fluff, angst, exs to lovers, el oh el.

warnings: swearing, isaac newton mentioned, could be sad ig (?), i can't think of anything else

a/n: im back from the dead, recently fell under a moving car and got dumped el oh el, some parts in here are inspo by like my actual life, i have a list of all the similarities if anyone is curiosu at the end of the story. basically wake up from a dream where me and my ex got back together and wrote this.

wc: 9.6k (longest fic ever el oh el)

Jumping off a flight of stairs was probably not the best idea, but it was the only thing you could think of at the moment.

Reluctantly moving down the stairs and following the loud clunk sounds of your stupid bright neon green water bottle. Books and papers of drawings and blueprints that won't fit into your messenger bag without getting damaged. Maybe you should’ve listened to when people said getting a regular backpack was much more convenient than the bag you had now, but it was much more fashionable. 

Landing at the bottom of the staircase, take a moment to breathe and prepare yourself for having to go back up five flights of stairs to get to class. Because even though the school is one of the prestigious in the country, they refuse to have any sort of elevators to ruin their “dark academic” aesthetic of the building. 

Eyes traveling on the old cobbled stoned flooring, trying to locate a neo-coded water bottle, your mother insisted on getting since she read somewhere green is this year's lucky colour. Probably found in some ridiculous article, really got to get her off social media. 

Bright neon green slipped through your peripheral vision, turning to face the still rolling bottle and walking towards it before it makes you late for your next class. It stops in front of a pair of solid black shoes, one that looks all too familiar. The figure stops at the feeling of the ratchet bottle that wants to ruin your day even more than it already has. 

A recognizable pale hand, with a silver ring on the index,  hesitantly drops down to pick up the bottle that led you down a path to the literal pits of hell for you. Eyes not dare looking up from the ground, taking your somewhat free hand and extending out your pinky to the now stranger you have a bitter taste in your mouth everytime you come near. Once the feeling of your pinky is weighted down by the feeling of the water bottle’s hook, you take off up the stairs with energy that you didn’t think you had anymore left of, as it’s your third time climbing these stairs in the past ten minutes. 

Not a care in the world if a stranger walks by and deem you as a rude bastard who can’t even say thank you, because you can;t even say a word to the “nice stranger” who handed you your water bottle. All you can do around him now is just run and avoid. That’s what you continue to do until you reach your class, probably looking a little weird as you were also cursing at your bottle and gravity, mainly isaac newton, he’s usually the bane of all your problems lately, besides the man you used to call yours. 

—

His friends would sometimes joke to him that the world is too fast for him at times, usually when he doesn’t get a joke right away or for him zoning out, especially as it has been worse in these past few months. 

But that happened so fast, he has no idea what to do, or how to react but just to stare at your figure rushing up the stairs. Sunghoon’s jaw tightens as you fade away up the many flights of stairs. Acting like he is some contagious virus, even afraid to touch him, much less look at him. 

He would remember when their friend group was still intact and when they would all hang out, how sometimes the gang would get too overwhelming, even from the other side of the room you would catch his eye and always give him a comforting smile. And the simple eye contact with one another, while the world moves along around them. 

But he had lost that with you and it’s all his fault. 

—

Taking a little break from the assignment in front of you to angrily tap on your phone so the ads on your music app stop, knowing you aren’t really actually doing anything to get rid of them unless you become one of the apps victims and pay for music. But your stubbornness and being broke, so aggressively hitting your phone is your next best solution. 

The little silence after the ad is finally done and the next song is about to start, you can hear a mechanical pencil roll off of a desk. A quiet clatter could barely be noticed in the slight hum of the library. You didn’t hear it at first, the angry high you had because of the ad made you lock out of concentrating from your work— until you noticed the hand reaching for it making you pause.

Long pale fingers. A silver ring on the index.

You know those hands, it's your second time seeing them in… you weren’t too sure the last time you saw those hands when they were wrapped around your water bottle. All you knew was that you were seeing those hands much sooner than you needed to. 

Those hands, you remember the weight of those hands in yours, the way they used to hold your face and caress your cheek, the way they tug at your sleeves on your sweater absentmindedly. 

And you recognize the pencil.

It’s yours.

Not exactly, but you did buy that pencil. 

Something in you starts feeling nauseous, or light-headed, you couldn’t really figure out in the moment because without thinking, you reach out and yank that pencil right out of his grip. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have done that, because now that gross boy opened his mouth, but you didn’t care. 

Sunghoon blinks. “Hey did you just—”

Whenever you were bored in class you would always do fun pencil tricks and even taught him how to do some with this said pencil in your hands. 

Spinning the pencil around, inspecting it with feigned interest, not caring about the boy next to you with his mouth open like a fish staring at you. “Huh. I forgot how nice this pencil was.”

Now his mouth is close as he clenches his jaw, his  stare sharpening. “You can’t be serious.”

Finally turning your head to look at him, trying to maintain the emotions on your face. Instead of saying something you might end up regretting, in the fear of sounding cringe, you just shrug. 

“Give it back.”

“Why?” Resting your chin on your hand. “It’s mine.”

He exhales sharply, the kind of exasperated breath he used to let out when you teased for taking things too seriously. Except now there’s a little bit of an edge to everything. 

“You gave it to me.”

You tilt your head “Did I?”

You weren’t sure if he could clench his jaw any harder, but somehow he does. “Yeah. You did.”

Your grip on the pencil tightens. You can’t say you remember everything that was said the night of the break up, but you remember the way you felt, the way he left without explanation— like he couldn’t bear to stay with you any second longer. As if he couldn’t stand to hold on to something that was already slipping away. 

He didn’t even let you have a say, you didn’t get the chance to do anything, not even fight for what was yours then. 

So now you hold on to that damn pencil. 

“Well,” you say, voice light, “technically, it was mine first.”

Sunghoon lets out a humorless laugh, one you don’t recognize in this fever dream daze of nostalgia. Leaning against the table, he’s close now, closer than you could've prepared for. You hate the way your heart stumbles over itself at the lack of distance, at the way he still smells the same— like something clean and sharp, a little cologne you had bought him about a year ago for his birthday. 

His voice drops an octave. “You’re seriously pulling this shit?”

Shrugging again, simply just pulling a stare you hope doesn’t reveal how fast your heart is beating stupidly like it used to. 

He watches you for a long second, his brown eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to figure out what type of game you were playing. But then, not arguing, instead of pushing back, he just exhales softly. 

“Fine,” he mutters, “Keep it.”

And then, right before he turns away— so quiet you almost think you had imagined it—

“It suits you better anyways.”

You blink.

Before you could say anything, maybe asking what the fuck he meant by what he said, he’s already walking off. Leaving you with a mechanical pencil in your hands and this time you watching him as he walks away, with a taste of words you don’t quite understand.

—

Two year ago

Rain pitter patters against the windows, a dull hum in the background in the near-empty classroom. It’s late— too late for anyone to be here— you didn’t care, you were too stubborn. Chewing on your nail, brows furrowed in concentration as you glare at your notebook, completely oblivious to the fact that Sunghoon hasn’t turned a page in the last ten minutes. 

He should be focusing. He should be running through formulas in his head, thinking about the test tomorrow, or at the very least be pretending to be studying. Instead, he’s watching you— watching the way you puff out your cheeks when you stop understanding what you were just doing, the way you spin the pencil in your hand absentmindedly, the way you whisper to yourself while doing each exercise when you think no one’s listening.

You’re always like this– loud without meaning to be, pulling attention without even trying. 

He should’ve known sooner. That you were dangerous in the kind of way that crept up on him, slipping past his defenses before he had the chance to stop it. 

“Sunghoon.”

Your voice snaps him back to reality, he straightens, forcing his face into something neutral. “What?”

Pushing your notebook towards him, sighing dramatically. “Did you do this one yet? I don’t know if I did it correctly.”

He glances at your notebook, eyes widening a little, as to the most he could see on the page was a bunch of scribbles and some incoherent formulas and calculation. Having a hard time reading it , before shifting his chair closer. You don’t think twice about it when your shoulders brush. You never do. 

But he does.

He always does. 

“Is this your answer, at the corner?” he asks, taking your pencil without thinking, to circle the little number at the bottom of the page. Your fingers graze for a second, and he wonders if you feel the static the way he does. Probably not. You’d pull away if you did.

He attempted to go over your work, commenting on what you have written in a voice that’s much steadier than he feels. You nod along, resting your chin on your hand, eye flickering between his face and page. 

“I hate Isaac Newton and that stupid apple.” you grumble.

Sunghoon huffs a quiet laugh shaking his head. “You just overthink everything.”

You groan. “I wish that apple killed that stupid white man.” 

He watches as you bury your head in your arms on the table, tapping your forehead lightly with the end of the pencil before setting it back down. “Just stop overthinking and wishing death upon an already dead man.”

Lifting your head, you blink at him, lips parting like you want to argue, but for a brief moment, something passes between the two of you— something neither of you have a name for yet.

And then you roll your eyes, reaching for your notebook. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, idiot.”

Sunghoon watches as you turn your pages to start a new question, completely unaware of the way his fingers twitch against his knee, resisting the urge to brush a stray strand of hair from your face.

Yeah.

He’s in trouble. 

—

A few months ago

The night air is cold, but not as cold as the space between you.

Your arms are crossed. His hands are shoved into his pockets.

A street light flickers overhead. A car passes in the distance. 

Sunghoon exhales, steadying himself.

Then. before he can stop it— before he can think too hard about what he’s about to lose—

“I think we should break up.”

Silence.

The kind that swallows everything whole.

Your lips part, but no words come out. 

Your lips part, but no words come out.

The look in your eyes— confusion, disbelief, then something else, something that burns— 

“What-Why?”

He doesn’t answer. Or maybe he does, but it’s not the right thing.

It’s never the right thing.

The air is heavy, thick with things neither of you are saying.

Then, finally— your voice, quieter this time.

“Okay.”

A single step back. Then another.

And then—

Nothing. 

—

The classroom hums with chatter, students moving around and the teacher speaking about some project, but you were barely listening. Your attention is elsewhere— on your notebook, on the scratches of pen against paper, literally anything but him.

He was two rows ahead, resting his chin on his hand, half-focused on his laptop. Almost similar to you right now. Too similar. 

You don’t look at him. You don’t let yourself.

But then—

“For the project, you’ll be working in pairs.”

There is a ripple of movement through the room, students glancing around already choosing their partners. 

“I’ve assigned them to you.”

Your stomach twists. 

You sit a little straighter. Your fingers tighten around your pen. 

 The professor starts listing off names. One by one, students find their partner. You’re holding your breath, waiting for—

And then—

Your name.

And then, immediately after—

His. 

You freeze.

The room suddenly feels too small, the air too thick. 

Someone nudges your arm, murmuring something about how lucky you are since you get to work with the “hottest guy on campus”, but their voice is distant, muffled by the sound of blood rushing in your ears.

Slowly, hesitantly, you lift your gaze. 

Sunghoon had turned in his seat. 

For the first time in months, you’re looking at each other. 

And the worst part? He doesn’t even look surprised. 

—

Sunghoon doesn’t hear from you for the rest of the day. 

Not a text, not a call— nothing.

And the, at exactly 11:51 pm., an email lands in his inbox.

Subject: Project Task

From: yn@beliftuniversity.com

To: parksunghoon@beliftuniversity.com 

Attached is the project outline. I’ve divided the tasks. I’ll handle the structural analysis and concept sketches. You can do the mechanical components. Tell me when you are done. 

Sent from my phone

That’s it. No greeting. No unnecessary words. Not  even your name.

Sunghoon exhales through his nose, clicking open the file. You’ve already set up everything— titles, labels, even deadlines. You’ve practically built a wall of professionalism between you, as if you were never anything but classmates. 

And it pisses him off.

Fine. two can play this game. 

He types a reply, short and to the point.

Subject: Re: Project Tasks

Got it. 

He doesn’t hit send. 

His fingers hover over the keyboard. His jaw clenches.

Then, in a moment of stubborn impulse, he types—

You can’t avoid me forever.

And hits send before he can take it back.

—

“You know, he’s right.”

You shoot a glare over at Sunoo. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, kicking his feet up on the bench. “You can’t ignore him forever.”

“I can, actually.” you sip your matcha pointedly. “It’s called email.”

He snorts. “You sound like a middle-aged professor.”

“Good. Maybe he’ll leave me alone then.”

Sunoo raises an eyebrow. “He literally told you, ‘You can’t avoid me forever.’”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, and? I don’t care.”

The words are barely out of your mouth when Sunoo suddenly stiffens, eyes darting over your shoulder. 

“Uh—”

You don’t even have to ask. You just know.

There’s a familiar shift to the air, an awareness pressing down on your skin. 

And then, just to confirm it—

“Shit,” Sunoo mutters. “He’s down the hall.”

You don’t think. You just move.

Your hands shoot out, gripping his sleeve as you drag them down the corridor. 

“Are you serious?!” he hiss between stumbling steps.

“Shut up, shut up , shut up—”

“Please can we stop running, I don’t think he would be chasing us down for sport.”

You don’t care. You don’t turn around because you know if you do, you’ll see Sunghoon standing there, staring after you, that unreadable look on his face. 

And you are not giving him that satisfaction.

Not today. 

—

Staring at your laptop screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, the flashing cursor blinking back at you in defiance. You’ve been avoiding this email for days— every time you think about it your stomach churns, and you mind races with excuses. 

You don’t want to deal with him. Not now. Not ever again.

The project, the meeting, the unavoidable tension. You had hoped, foolishly, that you could really just avoid Sunghoon completely— keep everything strictly professional, send email, handle the assignment without having to face him in person. But that plan was crushed the moment the email landed in your inbox, his name in bold. 

“Let’s meet in person tomorrow to go over the project. I’ll bring the drafts.”

Of course, Sunghoon had to take the initiative. You had a suspicion he’d never let you hide behind your screen forever. He was stubborn, too, in a way that always seemed to get under your skin. 

You arrived at the library, dragging your feet, already feeling the weight of the situation settle in your chest. The project was an assignment, but the real challenge was having to sit across from him, pretending that nothing had happened, pretending that the last year— no, the last months— hadn’t been a whirlwind of frustration and heartache.

But here you were, faced with reality. You walked into the library, hoping to avoid eye contact, but you couldn’t escape the familiar sight of him sitting at a table with all his papers neatly organized, a slight form on his face as he scanned the documents. 

His eyes flicked up when he saw you enter, and for a second, your heart skipped a beat. But you force yourself to remain calm. He was just a classmate now, just another part of your academic routine. Nothing more. 

You set your things down at the table across from him, pulling your laptop out with the practiced motions of someone who had done this a thousand times before. You weren;t going to make this more personal than it had to be. No small talk. No catching up. Just the project. 

“Hey,” Sunghoon greeted, his voice neutral but carrying the weight of something unsaid. He glanced at the papers in front of you and then back to you. “Are you okay with everything so far? I made some revisions to the outline.”

You didn;t look at him. Instead, you glanced at the project papers and began sorting through them, avoiding his gaze entirely. “I’ll read them over later. Just… let’s focus on getting it done.”

You felt his eyes on you, the tension palpable in the air, but you refused to acknowledge it. You had your own part to do, your own work to focus on. Nothing else mattered right now. The project was the only thing that mattered. 

—

Sunghoon sighed, and you could hear the edge of frustration creeping into his voice. “Look, I know this isn;t easy for either of us, but we’re stuck with each other for this project. We might as well get it done right.”

“I’m not here to talk,” you snapped back, the words sharp and defensive. “Just focus on your part. I’ll handle mine.”

His expression hardened , but he didn’t push it any further. He opened up his own laptop and began typing, the sound of the keyboard tapping filling the silence between the both of you. 

For a while, it was quiet— just the sound of typing, rustling of papers. But no matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn;’t shake the nagging feeling that he was watching you. His presence was like a shadow that followed your every move you made, and you hated how it made your chest tighten. You shouldn’t feel like this. You had no reason to. This wasn’t supposed to be personal. It was just a project. 

But then, suddenly, Sunghoon spoke again, his voice quieter, almost reluctant.

“You know,” he said, voice low but insistent, “we used to work well together. Back in high school. Why are you making this harder than it has to be?”

You froze, your fingers still on the keyboard. You could feel the old pain creep up your throat, but you swallowed it down, shoving it away. No. Don’t go there.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice steady but with a hint of something you don’t want to put a name to. And then, with a sigh, he turned his attention back to his laptop, typing in silence for a long time. 

—

Two year ago

 It had been a late night at the library, the kind where the air felt thick with concentration and the promise of deadlines hanging over every student in the building. You were sitting at the same table as Sunghoon, both of you buried in textbooks, trying to get ahead before the weekend.

It was supposed to be just another study session, but something felt different. Maybe it was the way the soft overhead lights cast shadows over his features or how the silence between you two wasn’t awkward but comfortable. You couldn’t help it— his face was so focused, his lips slightly pursed in concentration, and for some reason, the sight of him studying like that made your heart skip. 

“Is there something on my face?” he asked, his voice teasing but gentle.

You blinked and quickly looked away, flustered. “No … it’s just, you look… nice when you study.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. He leaned forward slightly, his voice lower than usual. “Nice, huh? That’s a first.”

You wanted to curl up and die from embarrassment, but instead you found yourself smiling despite the heat in your cheeks. Something about being with him felt so easy, so natural.

And then, before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out. “You look… pretty. When you study.”

There was a long pause, and then Sunghoon chuckled, his smile widening. “Pretty, huh? Well, that’s new.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed too, the awkwardness melting away in the warmth of his gaze. That moment— when you both realized that maybe there was something more there— was when it all started. 

—

The silence in the library stretches again. You go back to your laptop, trying to focus on the work in front of you. But the memory of that moment, of those words you’d said so long ago, hangs in the air like a ghost.

Sunghoon’s presence is undeniable now. Every time his shoulder brushes against yours as he reaches for his drink, it feels like a jolt of electricity. You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to keep working, to ignore the way his proximity makes your heart race. 

“You know, if we just worked together instead of pretending we’re strangers, this would be a lot easier,” Sunghoon says again, his voice a little more insistent now, but still carrying that gentle tone. 

You refuse to look up, clenching your jaw. “Just finish your part. I’ll finish mine.”

“I’ve always liked how stubborn you are,” he mutters, but there’s a soft fondness behind the words. “But you’re going to make this harder than it has to be, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to snap back. But the reality is that he’s right. You are making this harder. You’re making everything harder by refusing to acknowledge how much you still feel for him.

But you can’t admit that, not now, not when the walls between you two are so high, so insurmountable. 

—

It’s late—too late for anyone to be at the library anymore. The harsh overhead lights flicker in the empty room, casting long shadows on the tables where students usually sat, buried in their books. But not you. You’re still here, alone, a stack of textbooks and papers spread out before you. The hum of the fluorescent lights fills the air, broken only by the soft tapping of your fingers on the keyboard.

You’ve been here for hours, the deadline looming closer with every passing second. Your mind is tired, but you won’t leave until you finish. It’s like a race against time. A way to distract yourself from everything else.

But then, you feel it. A presence.

You look up, and there’s Sunghoon, standing by the entrance, his gaze scanning the room. You immediately look away, pretending you hadn’t seen him. Why is he here? You weren’t supposed to see him, not tonight.

He walks toward you slowly, his footsteps soft but deliberate. You keep your eyes down, focused on the papers in front of you, but you can feel him getting closer.

“You’re still here?” Sunghoon says, his voice low, like he’s not sure what to make of the situation.

You sigh, unwilling to make this a conversation. “I’m working. Is that a problem?”

“No,” he answers quickly, but there’s a softness to his tone now. Something gentler. “Just... thought you’d left by now.”

You don’t look up, but you hear him pull out the chair opposite you. He sits down, but doesn’t speak immediately. You don’t say anything either. It’s awkward. You try to focus on the work in front of you, trying to ignore the feeling of his presence, so close but still so far away.

You keep your head down, but the longer you stay in the silence, the more you feel the walls you’ve built start to crumble, piece by piece. He doesn’t push you. Doesn’t force a conversation. He just... stays.

You try not to think too much about it. It’s just Sunghoon. Just a classmate.

But then, hours later, you’re blinking, your head feeling heavy as you try to focus on the screen in front of you. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until your eyelids started to flutter. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the exhaustion catches up with you.

You don’t even realize you’ve nodded off until you’re suddenly jerked awake, your head jerking up from the desk. The library is quiet, almost too quiet, and the light from the desk lamp casts a soft glow around the room. That’s when you notice it.

A jacket—dark, heavy, and familiar—draped over your shoulders.

You blink, still groggy from sleep, and turn to see that Sunghoon is gone, his chair empty. You try to shake the fogginess from your mind, but there’s no denying it: He left his jacket with you.

You didn’t hear him come back. Didn’t feel him approaching. But somehow, he’d slipped it onto you while you were asleep, without a sound.

You sit there for a moment, the jacket still warm against your skin. His scent clings to it, and you find yourself unable to take it off. It feels wrong to just leave it behind, but you’re not sure why it feels so important to keep it on.

You look down at your own hands, your fingers grazing the sleeve, feeling the weight of the jacket, both literally and emotionally. You’re not sure if it’s the jacket that’s weighing on you or the memories that come with it. But it’s there. And so is he.

You stay there for a few more minutes, just sitting in the quiet, knowing that it would be impossible to get anything more done tonight. You pack up your things, but you don’t take off the jacket. Instead, you walk out of the library with it on, your heart a little heavier than when you came in.

—

It was dark outside, and the bus was filled with the soft chatter of your classmates. You and Sunghoon were sitting in the same seat, your shoulders brushing as you both leaned against the window, tired from the day’s activities.

You’d always been close, never quite aware of how it felt to have someone just be there with you. But that day, there was something different about it. It was like you both had settled into this quiet rhythm—comfortable, easy.

You leaned your head against the window, gazing out at the passing lights. The bus was warm, and your eyes were starting to grow heavy from the day’s exhaustion. Without realizing it, you drifted off, your head slipping onto Sunghoon’s shoulder.

He didn’t immediately pull away, didn’t complain. He just let you sleep, his body slightly tensing at the sudden closeness, but not enough to push you away.

And when you woke up, it wasn’t awkward. You just rubbed your eyes, looked up at him, and smiled.

“You’re comfy,” you murmured.

Sunghoon chuckled softly. “You really just fell asleep on me, huh?”

You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest. “It’s not like I did it on purpose. I didn’t even realize.”

And even though it had only been a few seconds, you both lingered in that moment, your eyes meeting briefly before he gave you a smile that made your heart flutter.

You’d brushed it off as nothing—just a friendly gesture.

—

You’re still sitting in your room, the jacket still on your shoulders. It feels like a weight, not because it’s heavy, but because of the memories it brings. The warmth lingers on your skin, but so does the uncertainty. You can’t figure out why this is bothering you so much.

Your phone buzzes on the table, pulling you from your thoughts. A new email. You don’t need to look at it to know it’s from him. Sunghoon.

The message is simple: “Still need help with the project. Let me know if you want to meet up.”

You close your eyes and let out a slow breath. You want to ignore it. Pretend you didn’t see it. But you can’t. Because part of you wants him to be there. Part of you wants him to still be the one to help you, even if you don’t want to admit it.

You stand up, pacing around the room, the jacket slipping slightly off your shoulders as you move. You pull it tighter around you, almost subconsciously.

You know you’ll have to face him again. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe sooner. Hopefully later. But right now, with his jacket still draped over you, you’re not sure if you're ready.

But for some reason, you know you’re going to have to take it off.

—

You walk into the classroom, clutching the jacket in your hands. It’s been a couple of days since you woke up to find it draped over your shoulders, Sunghoon’s jacket—a silent gesture that spoke more than words ever could. He hadn’t said anything when you first found it. It had simply been there. At first, you thought it was an accident, but the longer you held onto it, the more it felt like something else. You hadn’t returned it immediately, unsure why you kept it. But now, with the fact the two of you share a class together, it felt like the right time.

You spot him sitting by the window, alone, lost in whatever thoughts occupy his mind. He doesn’t notice you as you approach, and the moment feels strangely... intimate, even though you're still far from the comfort you once shared.

You stand in front of him, holding out the jacket, but he doesn’t immediately take it. His eyes flicker up, and for a split second, something unreadable passes between you. He reaches for the jacket, but as his fingers brush yours, it’s more of a reflex than any real desire to touch.

Before you can pull away, a voice from behind you cuts through the moment.

"Are you two... together or just friends?"

You glance over to find a couple of classmates watching you both curiously. It’s a casual question, but the curiosity in their eyes is unmistakable. Sunghoon’s hand freezes mid-motion, his fingers still hovering over the jacket. He looks back at them briefly, his gaze faltering, not quite meeting yours.

For a moment, you’re not sure what to say. You notice how Sunghoon looks at the ground, avoiding any real response. His lips press together, his hand still unsure of whether to take the jacket back or not. He’s hesitant, as always.

You, on the other hand, feel the weight of the question, but you don’t shy away from it. Not this time. You stand tall, glancing over at your classmates and meeting their gaze.

“We’re just friends,” you say, your voice steady and clear. “Nothing more.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He just takes the jacket from your hand, his fingers brushing yours again, but this time it’s almost mechanical. You turn away quickly, the moment lingering behind you like an unspoken tension.

Your classmates exchange glances, their curiosity piqued, but they don’t push further. They turn their attention to the front of the room as class starts, but the question still lingers in the air.

You sit down at your desk, feeling the eyes of your classmates on you for a moment longer than usual. You force yourself to focus, pretending it doesn’t matter, but the thought of that brief interaction, the way Sunghoon avoided the question, settles heavily in your chest.

The class continues, but your mind drifts, back to that jacket and the weight of unspoken words. You can’t help but wonder what he might’ve said if you hadn’t answered for both of you.

No, that’s what he should’ve said because you guys were not dating, he broke up with you, and now the two of you were simply forced to work together. That’s it. 

—

The autumn air was crisp, carrying the scent of fallen leaves as the two of you walked side by side down the quiet street. The school festival had just ended, and the distant hum of laughter and music still echoed behind you. Groups of students were lingering back at the event, but somehow, the two of you ended up here, together, away from it all. 

It wasn’t planned. It never was with him. It was just how things always seemed to happen.

You hugged your arms around yourself because of the cold, cursing at yourself for not bringing a bigger jacket knowing the weather but wanting to look good for the event. He walked a little ahead, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jackets, his head tilted slightly towards you as if he was waiting for you to say something. 

You had always been the talker between the both of you. The one who made friends easily, the one who never hesitated. But right now, the words sat heavy on your tongue, unspoken. 

He let out a small sigh, looking up at the sky. “It’s late.”

“You should’ve left earlier then.”

He huffed, a tiny, almost-smile tugging at his lips before he looked back ahead. “You didn’t have to leave, you know.”

You shrugged. “Didn’t feel like staying.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. The festival had been fine, fun even. But then you’d seen him standing by himself, lingering near the edges of the crowd, not quite a part of it. And suddenly, the excitement of it all had dimmed. 

He kicked a small rock with the tip of his shoe, watching it tumble along the pavement. “Didn’t think you were the type to leave a party early.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

A breeze picked up, and instinctively, you crossed your arms tighter over yourself. Without a word, Sunghoon shrugged off his jacket and held it out to you.

You blinked at him. “What are you doing?”

“You’re cold.”

You scoffed. “I’m not cold.”

He didn’t say anything, just kept holding the jacket out with that blank expression of his— the one that meant he wasn;t going to argue. You hesitated for a second too long, and then, as if deciding for you, he draped it over your shoulders himself. 

You looked up at him, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but then you caught the way his fingers lingered just a second longer against your shoulder, the way he swallowed, like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. 

It was nothing.

It was everything.

Your heart did something stranger in your chest, a quiet stutter. But then he pulled away, shoving his hands back into his pockets, eyes flickering elsewhere like it was no big deal.

Like he didn’t just leave you standing there in the middle of the empty street, drowning in the scent of his cologne, trying not to overthink what had just happened. 

“Let’s go.” he said, his voice calm, steady. Like always. 

You didn’t move right away. You just watched him, this boy who always seemed out of reach.

Then you exhaled and started walking again, side by side, your steps falling in sync.

And if your hands brushed once— just once— neither of you said a word about it. 

—

After class, you head out of the room, your mind still lingering on the awkward exchange. As you walk down the hallway, you notice Sunghoon a few paces behind you, his expression neutral. You don’t turn around, but you can feel his presence. It;s the same as always, but somehow it’s different.

The hallway stretches ahead of you both, and you find yourself wondering if it’s the same for him, if he’s feeling the same weight of the unsaid words hanging in the air between you. But then you push the thought away. You can’t keep thinking about it. Not now. Not like this.

The day continues, but it doesn’t feel the same. Something has shifted again. Not a big thing, just the subtle change in the air whenever Sunghoon is around. But for now, you focus on the present. The project. The work. There’s no room for anything else. At least not yet. 

—

Sunghoon hated studying in public places. He hated the noise, the crowded spaces, the way it was impossible to concentrate. But for some reason, he was here.

With you.

The library was dimly lit, the only sounds coming from the occasional turning of pages and the soft clicking of keyboards. It was nearly empty at this hour, just the two of you tucked away in a corner, buried under textbooks and notes.

You sighed dramatically, stretching your arms over your head before slumping onto the desk. “I’m going to die here.”

Sunghoon didn’t look up from his notes. “You say that every time we study.”

“Yeah, and one day it’ll be true. And when that day comes, I hope you feel bad about it.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Dramatic.”

You turned your head to look at him, resting your cheek against your arm. The lamplight softened his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the way his lashes cast faint shadows on his skin. 

He was so pretty.

Unfairly so.

You frowned, furrowing your brows. “Do you know you’re pretty?”

That finally made him look up. He blinked at you, pen pausing mid-air. “What?”

“What?”

There was a flicker of something in his expression— surprise, amusement, something unreadable. He tilted his head slightly. “I don’t think about that kind of stuff.”

You scoff. “Oh shut up.”

Sunghoon shook his head, turning back to his notes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Because it’s a weird question.”

“It’s not weird.” You sighed, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. “I just think it’s unfair that some people get to be smart and pretty.”

His lips twitched, like he was trying not to smile. “You’re calling me smart too?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

You hadn’t meant anything by it. It was just a passing thought, casual observation. But for some reason. Sunghoon kept stealing glances at you for the rest of the night, his fingers tapping idly against his notebook, like he was trying to figure something out. 

—

The library is quieter than usual tonight. The steady hum of air conditioning fills the space, and the dim, golden glow of the desk lamps casts long shadows on the wooden tables. It’s late— too late to still be working— but neither of you have left.

At first, you barely acknowledged each other. The project was the only thing keeping you here and even then, you refused to speak unless absolutely necessary. You typed your sections. He worked on his. Simple.

But at some point, between the furious clicking of keys and the scratching of his pen against paper, something shifted. 

The silence wasn’t as sharpe anymore. The air between you wasn’t quite so cold.

You were still stubborn, still keeping your distance, but Sunghoon had started to slip through the cracks. 

It was in the way he quietly slid your match closer when he noticed you reaching for it absentmindedly. In the way his eyes lingered a second longer than necessary whenever you furrowed your brows at the screen, lost in thought. In the way he wordlessly handed you a new pen when yours ran out of ink, his fingers brushing yours just for a second.

Little things.

Things you didn’t want to acknowledge.

Things that made it harder to pretend that you hadn’t missed this— missed him.

You force yourself to focus on the words in front of you, but your mind is elsewhere. On him. On the past. 

—

It had been a long night.

You weren’t supposed to stay out this late, but somehow, time slipped away. It was just the two of you, walking home after an evening study session, the sky stretched out in a blanket of deep navy blue. The air was crisp, autumn settling in with a quiet chill, and your footsteps echoed against the empty sidewalk.

“I can’t feel my fingers,” you muttered, shoving your hands into your hoodie pockets.

Sunghoon glanced at you, amused. “Then why didn’t you bring gloves?”

“Because I didn’t know it’d be this cold.”

“You say that every year.”

You huffed, nudging him with your shoulder. “And every year, I am caught off guard.”

He rolled his eyes but reached for your sleeve, tugging your arm towards him. Before you could react, he took one of your hands in his, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket along with his own.

The warmth of his palm against yours sent a shiver up your spine— not from the cold, but from something else. 

Something you hadn’t quite named yet.

Neither of you said anything about it. You just kept walkin, the streelights casting soft golden halos around you.

You reached your doorstep too soon. 

Sunghoon stood there, shifting on his feet, his fingers still loosely curled around yours.

You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve said goodnight. But instead, you just stood there staring at him.

The light from the porch illuminated the sharp angles of his face, the way his dark eyes softened when they met yours. His gaze flickered down— just for a second— before he quickly looked away.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were. “Are you gonna keep standing there, or—”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

And then—-

He kissed you. 

It was hesitant, barely a whisper of contact. But it sent your heart into a frenzy, your breath hitching, fingers tightening around him without thinking. 

When he pulled away, his ears were red, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “I— I wasn’t planning to do that.”

You blinked at him, mind still catching up. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeated, this time smiling.

Sunghoon exhaled, sometimes easing his shoulders.

“You;re still holding my hand.” you pointed out. 

He let go immediately, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Shut up.”

But you could see the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. 

—

You stare at the screen in front of you, but the words are a blur. The memory lingers, making your chest feel tight.

Sunghoon shifts besides you stretching out his arms. His sleeves push up slightly, revealing the faint outline of veins along his forearms. You look away quickly, annoyed with yourself. 

This is ridiculous.

You don’t care. You don’t.

“Take a break,” he says, voice low.

You exhale, rubbing at your temples. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

You shoot him a glare, but he’s already looking back at his screen, unaffected. Typical. 

Silence settles between you again, but it’s different now. He’s too close, the air between you too charged. 

And then—

“Do you still hate me?”

Your breath catches. The question is quiet, but it feels deafening.

You turn to him, meeting his gaze for the first time in what feels like hours. His eyes are steady, but there’s something else there— something raw, something careful. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

He swallows. “ you won’t even look at me.”

You force yourself to scoff, to roll your eyes. “I look at you all the time.”

“Not like before.”

That makes you freeze.

Because he’s right. 

Before— before everything— you had looked at him like he held the universe in his hands. And maybe, in some ways, he had.

But that was then.

And now—

Now you don’t know what to do with this version of him, this version of you.

The air is thick with something you don’t want to name. 

And before you can think better of it, before you can stop yourself—

You kiss him. 

It's reckless, desperate, a collision of past and present, of things left unsaid and things you don’t want to admit.

His lips part slightly in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans in, his fingers grazing your jaw, like he’s afraid to break the moment.

And maybe you are too. 

But then—

Reality crashed back in.

Your eyes widen, and you pull away abruptly, breathless, heart hammering.

Sunghoon blinks, still processing, “Wait—”

But you’re already pushing away from the table, standing up too quickly, your chair scraping against the floor.

“I have to go,” you say, voice unsteady.

And before he can stop you, before he can say anything else—

You turn and walk away.

Leaving him sitting there, watching you go.

Again. 

—

Avoidance has always been your best defense.

You mastered it after the breakup, convincing yourself that if you could just stay out of Sunghoon’s orbit, then none of it— none of the pain, none of the unanswered questions, none of him— could touch you.

But ever since that kiss, it’s been impossible to keep up the act.

You stop sitting in your usual spots in the library. You change your walking routes between classes. You leave early to avoid any chance of running into him. Your emails about the project become even shorter, even more detached.

And still— it doesn’t feel like enough

Because the problem isn’t just him.

It’s you.

It’s the way your mind keeps replaying that night in the library, the way your lips still burn with the memory of his, the way your chest aches everytime you think about how you didn’t pull away immediately.

You shouldn’t have let it happen.

You shouldn’t have wanted it to.

But worst of all— you shouldn’t still want it now.

You tell yourself this over and over again. But nine of it matters when you turn the corner one evening, only to find yourself face-to-face with the one person you’ve been trying so hard to avoid. 

Sunghoon.

Waiting for you.

Like he knew.

“You’re avoiding me again,” he says, his voice eerily calm.

You grip your bag tighter and look away. “I’m busy.”

“Liar.”

The word lands heavier than it should.

You take a step back, but he matches it, blocking your way. His eyes search yours, and you can feel how tired he is— tired of the silence, of the pretending, of whatever this is. 

“Do you hate me that much?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it, something sharp and desperate. 

You exhale hardly. “Sunghoon—”

“Just answer me,” he pressed, jaw clenched. “Do you hate me?”

The words catch in your throat. 

You should say yes. You should give him the finality he seems to be looking for. 

But you can’t. 

And maybe he sees it— maybe he sees the way you falter, the way your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag— because his expression shifts.

And then—

The door beside you suddenly swings open. A group of students spills out, laughing and chatting, shoving past both of you. 

You barely register it before someone crashes into you from behind, sending you stumbling backwards—

Right into the supply closet.

And of course— because the universe must hate you— the force of it slams Sunghoon into the tiny space as well. 

And before either of you can react— click.

The door locks

Silence.

Then—

“You have got to be kidding me,” you hiss. 

Sunghoon tries the handle, but it doesn’t budge. He exhales sharply, resting his forehead against the door for a second before turning back to you. 

“Great.”

You let out a bitter laugh, crossing your arms. “What, you think I planned this?”

“No, but it’s convenient, isn’t it?” He glares at you, frustration bleeding into every word. “You’re always running away, and now you can’t.”

Your pulse spikes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he mutters. “You left the night. You’ve been avoiding me ever since. You won’t even talk to me—”

“Because there’s nothing to say!” you snap.

“Bullshit!” His voice rises, his patience unraveling. “Don’t act like you don’t care. You kissed me, and then you ran away like it meant nothing.”

You freeze.

Because he’s right.

It wasn’t nothing.

But admitting that? Giving him that satisfaction? You can’t.

So you do what you do best. 

You push back

“You don’t get to act like you’re the victim here, Sunghoon,” you say, voice colder now. “Not when you broke up with me.”

Something flickers across his face.

“And not just that,” you continue, the weight of everything you’ve bottled up finally breaking through. “You left me without any warning. You didn’t talk to me about what was wrong. You didn’t even try. You just decided one day that it was over and that was it.”

—

It had been an ordinary afternoon. You remember it oo well— how he wouldn’t look at you, how his hands trembled slightly as he shoved them into his pockets.

And then—

“I think we should break up.”

The words hit you like a slap.

You laughed at first, thinking it was some sort of joke. But then you saw the way he avoided your gaze. The way his fingers curled into fists.

“Why?” Your voice had cracked. “What happened? Did I do something?”

He had only shaken his head. “It’s just…. I don’t think this is going to work.”

“What—”

“I am not sure I am what you really need.”

It was the last thing you expected to hear.

But it was the only explanation he ever gave you.

That's what started it, why you just started running away from him. 

—

“You thought it wouldn’t work?” you glare at him now, eye burning. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Sunghoon pressed his lips together, like he regretted saying it. But it’s too late.

“You didn’t even give us a chance,” you continue, voice rising. “You just decided that it wasn’t going to work out for the both of us.” 

“I wasn’t sure if I was what you really needed.”

Your breath catches. “Sunghoon—”

“You’re always surrounded by people. You make friends so easily. I wasn’t like that, I am not like that.” His voice is quiet now. “I feel like I was always holding you back.”

You shake your head, feeling something sharp and painful twist in your chest. “That’s what you thought?” You let out another bitter laugh. “You know, I thought that’s what brought us together. That we were so different. That worked because of that.”

Sunghoon looks at you then, something unreadable in his expression. 

“There were two people in our relationship, you and me. You made that decision that we don’t work well, for the both of us.” you say, voice shaking. “And now you think it’s going to work now just because you want it to?”

He doesn’t answer. 

And you hate how much that silence still hurts.

You exhale shakily, turning away. “I don’t trust you., Sunghoon.”

His jaw clenches. “I know.”

“And I don’t trust myself to let this happen again. Because if you could leave that easily once, what makes you think I believe you won’t do it again?”

This time, he doesn’t try to deny it. 

Because he knows.

Because he did leave. 

And you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forgive him for that. You hated yourself for never being able to hate him at all. 

The only sound in the tiny space is the faint buzz of the overhead light—

And the deafening weight of everything left unsaid. 

The supply closet is cold, but the tension in the air is suffocating. When the door finally swings open, neither of you move right away. Sunghoon steps back first, his jaw clenched, like he’s holding back something he’ll never say. You follow a second later, not looking at him as you walk away.

After that, things are different.

You don’t avoid him anymore. Not really. You still exchange emails about the project, still sit across from each other in the library, still in the same space without outright hostility. But the sharpness between you dulls— replaced by something softer, something sadder. 

One night, long after the library should’ve closed, you look up from your notes to see Sunghoon staring at you. He doesn’t look away this time. Neither do you. For a moment, the world stills. 

Then you blink, and the moment is gone.

—

The project ends.

So does your reason to stay in each other’s orbits.

You expect things to go back to normal, whether normal is supposed to be. You expect distance to creep back in, the silence to settle. 

But somehow, Sunghoon lingers. 

He doesn’t force conversation, doesn’t push. But you catch him in the corners of your vision— watching, waiting, hesitation. As if he’s waiting for you to decide what happens next.

—

Then one evening, you run into him.

It’s late. The air is cold, thick with the scent of winter. Sunghoon is standing outside the campus gates, hands shoved into his pockets, the street lights casting long shadows around him. He notices you before you can turn away.

“Hey,” he says, voice quiet.

You hesitate. Then, “Hey.”

There’s so much unsaid between you, so much left unfinished. 

A part of you wonders— is this it? The last conversation before you both fade from each other’s lives completely?

Sunghoon opens his mouth, like he wants to say something more, but you shake your head, stopping him. 

“It’s okay.” you say. “You don’t have to.”

His throat bobs as he swallows. He nods.

The streetlamps flicker above you. A car passes, its headlights flashing between you like a border, a final dividing line. 

You should say something else. You should tell him you’ll see him around, that you’ll stay in touch, that you’ll find your way back to him someday.

But you don’t.

Instead you step back, offering a small, almost imperceptible smile.

“Take care, okay?”

For a second, you think he won’t respond. But then, finally— softly— he nods.

“You too.”

You turn around first. You don’t look back.

Sunghoon watches you walk away, his hands still in his pockets, his lips parts like he wants to stop you— but he never does.

The night swallows the both of you whole.

And just like that, it’s over. 

—

The city hums in silence in the distance, but here, on the rooftop, it’s quiet/ the two of you sit side by side, legs dangling over the edge, the skyline stretching endlessly before you. The night is warm, the stars barely visible through the glow of streetlights. 

“You’re gonna fall,” Sunghoon murmurs, eyeing the way you lean forwards slightly, hands bracing against the ledge. 

You grin, tilting your head towards him. “You’d catch me.”

He doesn’t answer, but the corner of his mouth twitches, like he wants to smile but won’t let himself.

A soft breeze ruffles his hair. You reach out before you can stop yourself, fingers brushing through the strand, smoothing them down. Sunghoon stills at the touch, but he doesn’t pull away. 

“You do that a lot,” he says after a moment.

“What?” 

“Touch my hair.”

You blink, your hand dropping back to your lap. “Does it bother you?”

He exhales, looking away, down at the glittering streets below. “No.”

That’s all he says. But in the way his fingers clench slightly against his knee, in the way his shoulders stay tense even as the night air cools his skin— you realize something.

Sunghoon likes it.

He likes being close to you.

The thought makes your chest feel warm, something soft and fluttering settling behind your ribs. You don’t say anything about it, don’t tease or push. Instead, you lean back on your palms staring up at the sky. 

“Feels like we could stay here forever,” you murmur.

Sunghoon glances at you, his expression unreadable.

Then, so quietly you almost don’t hear it—

“Yeah.” 

-

author's note: basically everything in here thats inpso from irl with my actaully ex. the water bottle incident but it was in a classroom. us actually having fucking class with each other the next semester. me running away constantly every time i see him now. me buying him a pencil as a present and him still using it (i really want to steal it back). him asking me if i hate him cuz i keep running away and even dragged a friend as i run away from him. him saying "i dont think it's going to work out" and thinking becuase im very outgoing and him being a big introvert was something that would lead to us breaking up, haha but it was just him and him not communicating with me about his feelings. el oh el.

[retroaria]

boyfriend rin headcannon queen?

a/n: holy shit how have i gone this long without making rin bf headcanons??? thank you anon im gonna give you a kith 💋

˚｡⋆❀˖° BOYFRIEND RIN ˚｡⋆❀˖°

❀ Itoshi Rin x gn!reader | all characters aged up 18+ | SFW

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | requests are open! | enjoy 🐢 -aria

pre-boyfriend!rin who is much less intimidated by his feelings for you than people may expect. he understands how he feels and he accepts it, but no way in hell is he telling you about them. he tries to push them down as far as he can for as long as he can. doesn’t want the distraction and is a little insecure about how he’ll be as a boyfriend.

pre-boyfriend!rin who goes out of his way to introduce himself to you, help you out with stuff, get things for you that you need, but not without complaining (as if he isn’t giddy at the thought of just being around you). “Seriously, you can’t do this on your own? If you’re going to hurt yourself doing it then just let me handle it.”

pre-boyfriend!rin who gets jealous and possessive as if you’re already his partner. tries to get your attention on him instead of others without showing how he’s feeling. always makes it a little too obvious though, especially when he literally grabs your arm and pulls you away. “That guy’s a loser, just stay with me and he won’t bother you.”

pre-boyfriend!rin who invites you to hang out just to sit and talk in his room, invites you to his games and practices, gets defensive about introducing you to his teammates, and proceeds to act as if all that isn’t couple level interaction. rin finds solace in the thin line he walks between acting like you best friend and acting like your boyfriend. he likes the way he gets to act in regards to you without actually having to explain himself or his feelings. however, the thought that you aren’t actually his and could be taken from him at any time is enough to push him past his comfort zone and lead to his confession.

pre-boyfriend!rin who lets his feelings build up to an unbearable point and only then does he confess to you. his confession comes off a little passive aggressive. he isn’t sure how to explain how he feels without saying that you did this to him or you did that to him and he had no other choice but to fall in love with you. he unintentionally rambles on during his confession, drawing it out a bit too much because he isn’t sure when to stop, and he could honestly go on forever about how much and how deeply he feels for you. slowly but surely his tone becomes more affectionate and he shuts up in a moment of embarrassment awaiting your response.

boyfriend!rin who so quickly loses the tough guy act once you guys start dating. the beginning stages of physical touch and intimacy hit him like a semi truck and he can’t help but melt into a puddle any time he gets to be in your arms. he slugs over to you after practice and games, still sweaty and heaving, and plops himself over your shoulders. tries his best not to put all his weight on you but just enough for him to feel cradled. he swears laying in bed with you is some kind of mind control ritual that you perform on him because how else could you get him to so easily open up and share a piece of his mind with you? the stillness of the night, the softness of the sheets, the comforter, and your skin against his; it makes him feel so safe he doesn’t even let the words that come out of his mouth process in his brain first.

boyfriend!rin who takes you on very sweet and simple dates. likes sitting by the water with you, walking along the beach or at the park. he likes aimlessly kicking a soccer ball around with you in his backyard while you guys talk. dates with him feel more like hangouts, but sometimes he does like to put in a little extra effort to make it something special.

boyfriend!rin who has absolutely no wandering eye or intentions of being with anyone else. remember how difficult it was for him to just be with you? nah, no way is he doing that again. plus he’s got the best partner in the world so it’s not like he would ever want to risk that. because of this he would let you have a lot of say in his appearance. his haircuts, his clothes, even the body wash and cologne he wears. obviously he still wouldn’t let you choose something that he doesn’t like, but he wants you to like all of it too and he doesn’t mind catering to your preferences on him. you’re the only person he’s trying to impress and he wants you to feel confident about that.

boyfriend!rin who secretly wants everyone to know you’re his but also doesn’t want to make a spectacle out of you. he tells his teammates about you, occasionally will post about you, and he comments on all your posts. I can’t imagine him doing a hard launch, but he’s not afraid to mention in interviews or in conversation that he is in fact taken and in love.

boyfriend!rin who greatly appreciates the advice and support that you give him. he’s got some issues he needs to work through, and he feels so lucky to have you by his side. not judging him or scolding him for acting the way he does, but instead teaching him love in new ways and guiding him towards better understanding of others and behavior. he really starts taking things more seriously when you’re around, specifically in regards to separating his attitude on the field and off the field. he holds you like water in his hands and he wants that to help him learn how to show others and himself that same tenderness when necessary.

boyfriend!rin who is very possessive but not over protective. he lets you go out and dress up and look hot for the whole world to see. he trusts you with his whole heart and the idea of someone trying to hit on you while he isn’t there doesn’t scare him. he does hate when people hit on you while he is there though, it makes his blood boil. he goes into predator mode and literally forces you to cling to him like you’re his cub. he’s definitely the type to fight with other guys in your instagram comment section, would stop after you tell him that it’s kind of embarrassing though lol. god forbid someone from a rival team makes a comment after seeing you at one of his games, he’s literally devouring them on the pitch and then probably trying to beat the shit out of them after.

boyfriend!rin who purposely puts things on the highest shelves in your shared apartment so that you have no other choice but to ask him for help. he reaches up and grabs whatever you need, handing it to you with the stupidest smirk on his face.

boyfriend!rin who always needs to have some point of contact with you when you’re together. he isn’t big on pda at all and would cringe if you tried to be excessive about it, but he will admit he just needs your hand in his almost all of the time. if not that then he’ll opt for placing his hand on your lower back or on your thigh.

boyfriend!rin who is so whipped that he looks through your socials and his personal pictures of you multiple times a day when he’s away for games. he genuinely gets homesick for you and hates the feeling. calls you when he wakes up in the mornings and before he goes to bed at night, and of course is texting you throughout the day. he’s not a gimmicky guy but he loves getting you little souvenirs from the different countries he visits. his gifts are always tasteful and he knows what you like so don’t worry.

boyfriend!rin who is the best gift giver! he’s so doting and attentive that he knows you like the back of his hand and never fails to surprise you with items, trips, events, etc. that you absolutely love.

boyfriend!rin who is super freaking awesome and cute and im only writing this bc i feel weird ending the post on something random lol. all hail rin itoshi. the rin stans have convinced me!!

LOOOOORD forgive me i know it’s been like a week since my last official post but im a working woman, a single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops with gentle hands and the heart of a fighter im a survivor bro yall wouldn’t understand. anyways im trying to get back on my regular posting schedule bc i have so many requests to fulfill so stay tuned aria nation - peace out ✌️

[whousestypewriters]

its you and me, baby - j.l x reader

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader [established relationship]

requested: yes / no

warnings: swearing and sadish/insecure thoughts?

a/n: dw guys im still feeding you even tho im not online (this has been ling over due as well sorry to the two anons who requested this for taking so long!!) also i rlly dont like that i kinda not really sorta made aoife a problem in this bc joeyaoife forever!!!

taglist: @lxvebelle, @ecliphttlunar,

you like to think you're not insecure.

really.

but sometimes those small moments of doubt creep in and you find yourself questioning yourself more.

like right now as you watch your boyfriend talk to a very pretty girl at the bar. the same girl he'd been talking to for the last fifteen minutes. aoife molloy. she went to school with you and joey. you never really talked much to her but always got the vibe that she was a perfect shining star, that everyone loved.

example number one; your boyfriends smile right now.

he's smiling brightly at aoife, chatting away while he gets drinks for the both of you, laughing at whatever things she says. the feeling starts to build in your gut, one you desperately try to shove down because its the worst feeling ever.

and you see them too. the slight touches from aoife on joey's arm. fucking hell you're going to need several drinks if this is how tonight is going to go.

aoife's loud laugh breaks through your thoughts and draws your attention - not that you weren't already looking at them - back to her. joey's eyes are alight and you feel a ping of sadness and two ugly emotions you definitely don't like; insecurity and jealousy.

why didn't joe's eyes light up that bright when you two were together? why did he laugh as loud? was it you? were you just not funny enough? or was it something else? that one thing deep, deep down you were always afraid of. that you weren't good enough for him. and that he had found someone better.

"stupid shit thoughts," you grumble to yourself. "shut up, shut up, shut up."

pushing away all thoughts, you decide on getting your mopey ass a drink instead cause clearly someone else can't do that. standing up you make your way over to the bar and just to be petty you slip in next to joey and aoife and call out to the bartender ordering your drink.

joey hears your voice and his head instantly snaps around to you. "y/n, hey baby i was just getting us some drinks," he says with a small grin.

"yeah it seems so," you roll your eyes picking up your drink and heading back to your table. joey seemingly knowing that you're pissed says a quick goodbye to aoife and follows you over with two more drinks.

he sits down across from you and tries to make eye contact. "are you okay?"

you answer with a short nod and a sharp, "yes."

jealousy isn't a good emotion. its such an awful feeling, and you do not like it. so when joe asks, "you sure, baby?"

you kinda snap. "i said yes. i'm fine okay?"

he lets it go for now but you feel his eyes on you through out the rest of the - admittedly short - time you spent out together. you know he knows something is bothering you.

yeah, somthing was bothering you, someone called aoife molloy who's the prettiest person ever and who had joey lynch laughing his ass off for at least twenty minutes before you interrupted.

now you liked aoife, she was a sweet girl, but seeing the way she was with joey tonight really made you wanna bitch slap her. that was your boyfriend not hers.

the ride home you were quiet and you tried to bury the jealousy and insecurity bubbling beneath the surface you really did. but those dumb little thoughts kept weaselling their way into your head creating more doubt.

after you had both gone inside - still not talking - joey had had a shower and started to relax getting ready for bed while you had your own.

the hot - ok more like burning - water did nothing to ease the awful feeling in your gut. it was aoife molloy most guys your age would kill to go out with her. and she had chosen to talk to your boyfriend - who you aren't kidding yourself he's absolutely gorgeous. you've heard girls whispering about him more that a few times - you're not-single-very-taken-boyfriend.

ugh.

so when you come out of the shower and still didn't talk to joey thats when he snapped.

"alright thats it." he shoots his arms out wrapping them around your waist and throwing you on your back on the bed. he leans over you one arm on each side of your head caging you in. "what is wrong, and don't you dare say nothing because i swear to god i will kill you-in-a-non-threatening-way-because-i-love-you," he rushes the last part out.

"nothi-"

"y/n."

"fine," you sigh. "it... bothered me tonight, when you were talking with aoife."

"and..." joey eggs you on.

we're you really about to say this? "and i got jealous and insecure and i wasn't happy about it."

"why were you jealous?"

"because of her!" you cry. "its aoife fucking molloy, she's gorgeous, she's every guys dream girl and she was flirting with my boyfriend! and my boyfriend was smiling right back at her and yes it made me jealous because my boyfriend never smiles at me like that. he never laughs as loud when he's with me so yes. i. was. jealous."

joey's face stays still for a moment before he breaks into the biggest laugh. "oh, my god, y/n!" he chuckles loudly. "you have absolutely nothing to be worried about there. you wanna know what we were talking about the entire time? you." he leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead. "we were talking about you." he presses another kiss to your cheek, "aoife had brought up how grumpy you looked and we got caught up talking about you." he presses a kiss to the other cheek.

"me?"

"yes you, my grumpy little bug." he presses a soft kiss on your lips.

"there is no-one else, you got that? i adore you. i cannot stand the thought i being with anyone else. it physically pains me. i love you more than i'm actually sure is possible." he presses another kiss to your lips.

"its you and me baby. you and me."

a smile overcomes your lips and you pull joeys face down to kiss him yourself. "i love you," you whisper. "so much."

you both pull yourselves up under the bedcovers and fall asleep to the soft kisses and squeezes you exchange.

ok so maybe you are a little insecure but none of it matters as long as the boy who has his arms wrapped around you was with you.

a/n pt2: ok so i dont really know what happened with the ending so i lowkey js gave up on it. i hope you enjoy!!

[kaydens-agere]

caregiver logan little wade headcanons im actually begging

Caregiver Logan Howlett/Wolverine and Regressing Wade Wilson/Deadpool Headcanons!!

Headcanons below the cut!! Thank you so much for the request, I had sm fun writing these :D This does have a bit of swearing so if you're uncomfortable with that, please proceed with caution or don't read!!

⚔️-Wade was surprisingly open about it with him when they first met, he didn't go into too much detail, but he just kinda said "yeah I regress sometimes when bad shit happens." and left it at that. Logan didn't push it because he knows it can be a sensitive topic (as a secret little himself)

❤️-It first happened with Logan after the party after saving their universe. After everyone left, he ended up dropping from the exhaustion. Logan immediately fell into "dad mode" as Wade likes to call it, pampering him constantly and keeping him safe.

⚔️-Logan was very surprised by Wade's... colourful language while he's little. Logan half expected him to act the complete opposite of how he normally does. But no, he's still Wade. And he still has quite the mouth.

❤️-Logan is extremely gentle while Wade is small, often scooping him up and peppering him with kisses. Wade absolutely loves it, it always sends him into a fit of giggles.

⚔️-Logan has an abundance of nicknames he likes using for Wade. Some of them include bub (obviously), kid/kiddo, baby, his kit, etc. Sometimes he'll call him a little shit, but it's said playfully and Wade knows he's joking (that's nothing compared to the insults that Wade can throw at him).

❤️-Wade starts inviting him to his tea parties. They spend a lot of time on the living room floor with his many tea sets, talking about the latest gossip among Wade's plushies. Al will join in when she's home.

⚔️-Heres how the tea parties normally go: "Mary started yelling at Chrissy the other day." "Oh yeah, bub? Whys that?" "Because Chrissy was cheating on her boyfriend!" "Oh, motherfucker. I knew something was up with her."

❤️-Logan often takes Wade to the park, or just big open areas to run around in, he either starts dragging Logan around with him or forces him to play tag. He has a lot of energy that he needs to get out, and it's hard to do that when he's cramped up in the small apartment. They always take Mary Puppins with them.

⚔️-Sometimes Wade will struggle with his scars when he's small, physically and mentally. Sometimes they'll burn and itch and it's a lot harder to deal with when he's tiny, so all he can do is curl up and cry. However, Logan always seems to know what to do, he'll always run him a nice warm bubble bath to ease the pain. If he's struggling mentally, it's usually him thinking that he's too ugly or scary to be loveable. Once again, Logan is there. This time, he'll offer lots of reassurance, cuddles and kisses all over his scars, which will usually make him feel a bit better.

❤️-Wade is an absolute spoiled brat, and Logan definitely feeds into it, no matter how hard he tries not to. If they're at a toy store, Wade will show him a toy he really likes, and if Logan says no, you best believe that Wade will throw a tantrum until he gets it (He always does. Logan's not proud of it, but he hates seeing his baby cry).

⚔️-Wade calls Logan "Papa" whenever he's small. It shocked him when it first happened, he didn't think he was worthy of that title. Logan definitely did not have to have a cry in the bathroom after that. /s

❤️-Logan can have doubts sometimes about whether he's doing a good enough job or whether he's even worthy enough to be trusted that much by someone. Whenever Wade senses this, he'll draw him a bunch of pictures and give him plenty of kisses and tell him that he's the best papa in the world, which makes Logan feel all warm and fuzzy.

⚔️-Logan rubs his head on Wade's a lot, it's his way of "scenting" him. He wants everyone to know that Wade is his baby, no one else's. It's comforting for Wade as well, he likes the sensation of his papa's fluffy cat hair rubbing against his face.

[taintedcigs]

dancing with our hands tied part II — s.h

you can find part I here

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, making out, swearing, drinking, alcohol mention, JEALOUSY!!! eddie's a bit of an asshole i am sorry, but so is steve sometimes!! and so is reader? idk!

summary: in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex. (wc: 8k+)

a/n: this is part 2 of this fic here !! pls make sure to read it before this!! anddd, im sorry for how confusing the first part was, BUT HERE'S THE HIDEOUT INCIDENT!! and i didn't use POVs this time and i kinda gave up on dates ugrhh. also i have a little bonus content at the end even tho its so a lil silly!!! also did not proof-read this, pls ignore any mistakes or ill scream n d*e

Friday, February 7, 1986 || The Hideout.

Steve stole a glance in your direction, and immediately realized the mistake he had made. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

Why did you have to be so fucking perfect? Why did you have to have the most contagious laugh that immediately brought a warm smile to his lips? 

Steve leaned against the bar as he watched you further, reveling at the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you gave Robin a giggle, nose scrunching as you mimicked whatever story you were telling, drawing him in without even having a clue on the effect you had on him.

Your eyes met his for a brief moment, his heart pounded inside of his ribcage when you looked at him like that, as if your eyes were smiling at him. He held your gaze, giving you a subtle nod. 

God, if Steve didn’t tell you how he felt about you soon, he was sure he was going to explode.  

He turned back to the bar, head filled with the idea of opening up to you, he had to do it soon or else—

“Harrington!” Eddie beamed, interrupting his thoughts as he grabbed onto Steve’s shoulders, “You mind helpin’ me out?” He grinned, causing Steve’s brows to furrow. 

“Can you put in a good word for me?” Eddie muttered, hand pointing toward the booth, “What are you talking about?” Steve muttered, his eyes following him.

“Y/N.” Steve hoped to God that Eddie didn’t notice the shock in his eyes, blinking quickly as he tried to control the jealousy building within him. 

“I swear I’ve had the biggest crush on her,” Eddie exclaimed. Steve couldn’t help the way his face fell; he wondered if Eddie could notice it, but by the way he grinned at you, Eddie probably had no fucking clue about his feelings for you. 

“Since when?” Steve sounded bitter, chewing at the inside of his mouth to stop himself, “Uh, since forever, dude,” Eddie said, chuckling.

“Put in a little good word for me, yea? I know you guys are close and shit,” Eddie gushed as he squeezed Steve’s shoulders again, and Steve was tense now, his entire body almost burning with rage and resentment. 

Maybe it was wrong for Steve to be petty about this; maybe it wasn’t fair to you that he spent the rest of the night ignoring you; maybe it wasn’t right for him to act this way, but Steve had been on this rodeo before. 

He was always the second choice, and he knew that he was never going to be someone’s priority. Because of that, his reaction was warranted; at least that’s what he believed. Ignoring you completely while he bitterly watched Eddie make moves on you was the only way he could cope with it. 

And it was driving him crazy, knowing that Eddie was getting under your skin with the advice he got from Steve and learning everything about you from him. 

At first, it was all just some passive aggressiveness, until it turned into something bigger, until you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

Because there stood Steve, across from the gang’s booth, leaning over the wall as he whispered something into Tammy’s ear—Steve’s ex.

With her shiny blonde hair and her big eyes, she threw him a hearty giggle, sticking to his side, while Steve barely blinked, allowing her to drool all over him.

You had no right to be jealous, not when Steve had no clue about your feelings, not when Steve didn’t owe you a thing, but you couldn’t help the frown on your face as he ignored you all night and was fine with stupid Tammy Thompson being all over him.

Your throat burned with the number of shots you took, you could never handle your tequila, but the numbness was exactly what you needed. Your mind was getting dizzier with Steve being pushed back into your thoughts.

You could feel yourself getting lighter and lighter with each sip, gaze barely holding over Steve’s direction anymore when Eddie had been keeping you company the whole night.

To think Steve was supposed to be your close friend felt like a joke now. The more he was with the blondie, the more you felt your stomach churning, gaze drifting toward Eddie to keep yourself from looking in his direction.

You felt desperate.

Steve probably saw you as the girl who was wrapped around his finger, the girl who followed him around like a puppy. Maybe that’s why he was ignoring you, trying to keep you from clinging to him.

You fidgeted in your seat; not being able to get up and tear her off of him was killing you, and  your head was pounding because of the amount alcohol in your system.

It was getting harder to ignore the jealousy that gnawed at your insides. 

Eddie didn’t seem to notice anything, but Steve did.

With each shot you took, with each step you took closer to Eddie, Steve couldn’t help the sharp pain he felt in his chest, the same rage of jealousy gnawing at him as well. He knew he couldn’t do anything about it, too, so he buried it deeper and deeper until he could make sure those feelings for you were impossible to reach.

You were going to be dating Eddie, and Steve needed to get over you as fast as he could.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind the attention coming from his ex.

By the time Steve arrived back at the booth, Nancy and Jonathan were already gone, you were in the bathroom—possibly puking your guts out, and Robin was getting ready to leave.

“What the fuck happened here?” He asked, concern washing over his face. “She drank a bit too much,” Robin mumbled, knowing how much Steve cared about you.

“You should maybe check on her, yea?” She gave Steve an all-knowing look, causing him to shrug.

“I can’t—” Robin interrupted him with a death glare.

“I would, but I have to go or my mom will actually kill me this time,” She groaned, saying her goodbyes before leaving in a hurry. 

“Dude, I gotta bail too,” Eddie puffed his cheeks as he put on his leather jacket. “What?” Steve asked, baffled.

“She’s wasted!” He exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up quickly, causing Eddie to shrug, “She’s probably puking her guts out right now, she needs you.” Steve’s eyes narrowed; he couldn’t believe that Eddie would even think about leaving you alone in a condition like this. 

“Gross, dude,” Eddie said, making a face as he cringed, causing Steve to roll his eyes. 

“Real fuckin’ mature, Munson.”

“You drop her home, man, I’m too fuckin’ hammered for all of this.” He gave Steve’s shoulder another tight squeeze; this time Steve was sure his blood was boiling, his eyes darkening with each word Eddie spoke.

This asshole had the audacity to use him to try to date you, and he couldn’t even fucking treat you, right? Steve shook off his thoughts before he could do something he knew he would regret.

Eddie was his best friend, and he could never let his feelings for you get in the way of you actually being happy.

“Are you going to get a cab?” Steve asked, “Yeah,” Eddie muttered mindlessly.

“Then give me your jacket.” Steve’s tone was now cold, almost demanding, and his demeanor changing within seconds was throwing Eddie off, 

“No fuckin’ way,” Eddie chuckled mockingly, he didn’t notice the serious gaze Steve holds.

“Dude, your house is five minutes away, you’ll be fine, just give me your jacket,” He demanded again.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Eddie spat.

“Because you asshole, it’s the middle of February and Y/N is wearing a fucking dress, it’s the least you could do for leaving her like that.”

“Why don’t you give her yours?” Steve didn’t know how to control the rage coursing through his veins.

“Do you see me wearing a fucking jacket?” Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve like this, with those veins in his forehead visible as he could feel his fists clench. Eddie’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by Steve’s bizarre behavior.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie mumbled before taking off the jacket with a few huffs escaping from his lips.

“There, you happy, man?” Eddie hissed, almost tossing the jacket toward Steve, “Fucking ecstatic,” Steve replied with an angry smirk.

Steve sighed before he made his way to the bathroom. Not knowing what was waiting for him inside, he knocked on the door hesitantly and asked, “Y–you okay?” The shakiness in his voice was exposing him.

A faint ‘Yeah’ was all he heard before you unlocked the door.

And there you laid on the dirty bathroom tiles, your hair disheveled, make-up smudged, and you could barely get your head up from the toilet seat.

Steve’s heart sank, guilt settling in his insides again like an old friend. He knew he couldn’t always take care of you, and he knew that you’d be with Eddie soon, but he couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of guilt when all of this could’ve been avoided if he was just there for you. 

And his mind was still reeling about the fact that Eddie dared to leave you like this.

Would the fucker even be able to treat you right?

“Want me to help you?” He asked, hands itching to reach out and hold you, but you dismissed him like it was nothing, like he didn’t mean anything to you anymore, and it had only been an hour since Steve had learned that Eddie was into you. 

“No,” Even when you were this messed up, you held onto your grudge, shutting out any feelings of understanding or empathy toward Steve, even though he was only trying to help you out.

“I can help, to, you know—hold your hair and stuff,” He stuttered, he had never been this nervous around you.

You flushed the toilet as you attempted to get up, “I’m not—I didn’t throw up,” Your words were slurred.

“If you… if you feel like throwing up, I can—”

“No!” You exclaimed a bit too loudly, throwing him a cold stare. “I’m just trying to help you, Y/N.” His tone sounded disappointed, but you could care less when he had acted like a jerk most of the night.

“I don’t need your help,” You snapped while flushing the toilet, trying to stand still, your head growing dizzier each time you moved.

Steve breathed a heavy sigh and said, “Here.” He ignored your protests as he helped you up, warm hands were tight around your waist. If you weren’t this embarrassingly drunk and a huge mess, you would’ve started getting your hopes up.

But not after today, not after he ignored you to be with Tammy Thompson all fucking night.

“I got it!” You spat, trying to free yourself from his hold. “Let me help, please.” This was the most genuine he had been tonight, his voice almost pleading as he threw you that pitiful look, and you hated it.

You hated being the one Steve pitied and not the one he pined after, but you swallowed your pride when you realized you couldn’t even walk properly.

You barely questioned everyone’s absence when your mind was filled with Steve. 

And once he dragged you out of the bar, you couldn’t help the petty words that escaped your lips; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to.

“You can get back to your girlfriend now,” You muttered bitterly, your voice clear. There was venom in your tone, and your grudge was poison with the way it seeped into your words.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve sighed, and you lightly pushed him off of you as you stood still on your own.

“Does the name Tammy Thompson ring a bell?” You narrowed your eyes. You wish you could tape your mouth right now and stop yourself from spilling so much of your feelings to Steve.

“What does that have to do with anything, Y/N?” His tone remained cold now; your heart was in his hands, and he was squeezing it each time he distanced himself from you. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” Each time you dismissed him, you unknowingly tore open the old wound in his heart, keeping it fresh. 

“If—if you wanted to take care of me so badly, then why did you ignore me all fuckin’ night?” Your face heated with anger, and your tone was tinged with frustration. 

“Should go back to fuckin’ blondie over there,” You muttered under your breath, avoiding eye contact with him, unable to conceal the bitterness you were holding onto. 

“Oh my god,” The realization dawned on Steve at a crawl.

You were jealous of him.

“You are jealous,” Steve couldn’t help the annoying smile on his lips, much to your dismay. You were jealous of him, and as selfish as it was, it was amusing to him. 

“What?” You snapped, eyes narrowing, “I’m not jealous—” The look Steve threw at you was enough to break you. “Jerk,” You mumbled under your breath. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it dooooeees,” He said, dragging his words out to annoy you further, as he took a step closer to you, almost closing the distance that he had been keen on protecting the entire night. 

He was frustrating, so fucking frustrating, spinning your head faster than all the booze in your system. You couldn’t help the way your eyes grew mellow when he looked at you like that, you wanted to take all of him in. 

This entire day was beginning to grow tiring, from Eddie’s sudden interest in you to Steve’s emotional whiplash, and now, since you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for one goddamn second, he was aware of your unnecessary jealousy. 

“I’m not doin’ this with you,” You slurred again, hands wrapping around yourself almost as an attempt to conceal yourself from him, he could see right through you, and it was making you feel things you were not ready for. 

“W—where is Eddie?” Those were the worst three words that could come out of your mouth. Just when Steve was basking in the glory and the hope that you were jealous of him, you decided to bring up Eddie, and with just his name rolling off your lips, you were re-opening his wounds.

Why not him?

Why was it never Steve?

Steve gulped; physically, he wasn’t sure what step to take would be better, to put a distance between you and him or to put a distance between him and Eddie. 

And even though he knew he would regret doing this like there’s no tomorrow, even though Eddie doesn’t fucking deserve this decency, or you, Steve decided that he can’t do this to his friend. 

“At least he’ll take me home!” You exclaimed so confidently that Steve couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped his lips. 

“Yeah, I’m sure he would.” Steve quipped, grinning. He was mocking you again, unaware of your growing frustrations.

“What the hell is your problem?” You narrowed your eyes. “Unlike you, he didn’t ignore me all night to be with his ex, and he gave me his jacket.” Steve chuckled at that, again, frustrating you more and more, each time he opened his mouth. 

With an irritated frown, you shot a sharp glance at him and asked, “Is everything a fucking joke to you?” 

“Do you enjoy making me upset?” You crossed your arms against your chest, “You don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself!” You snapped, not even knowing know why you uttered those words, you knew better than anyone that Steve wasn’t selfish; he never once put himself in front of his friends, but you were aiming to hurt him, and he was ready to bite back now. 

“You are so fucking ridiculous, I—I can’t do this with you,” You murmured dejectedly, not being able to help it when your voice cracked; he was so embedded in your brain that you couldn’t form coherent words with the space he took up in your mind.

“You have no idea what you’re even talking about,” He whispered, shaking his head. If only you knew.

“Did you actually stop to think about how shitty it makes me feel when you give me these stupid emotional whiplashes?” You asked, and if you dared to get closer to him, you might’ve lost the purpose of the argument, your gaze drooping down to his lips every few seconds.

Steve stared at you blankly; you were unable to make anything out of his expressions, he looked at you as if you never existed to him, on a fucking whim.

Your lips tremble, a telltale sign that you would break soon.

His no response spoke volumes to you, “Of course you didn't.” You gave him a dry chuckle, filled with bitterness, and turned on your heel to walk away from him.

The slight breeze of February air hit you harder than Steve’s words.

He sighed a heavy breath when he heard you gasp at the coldness, hand reaching out to your arm before he spun you to meet his gaze again,

“Watch it, Y/N.” The words slipped past his lips forcefully, his chest puffing down with each breath he took. He was so fucking close that one move from you would change everything.

The tension was palpable; unspoken words and emotions hung in the space between the two of you.

And there it was.

There were his emotions again, filling his gaze quicker than you realized. If you weren’t this shitfaced, you could possibly do something about the ever so slightly distance between you, your foreheads almost touching. But your mind was spinning with endless possibilities. “Or what?” You teased; maybe it wasn’t the right time to do so, but you wanted to push him, make him break, the same way he did to you.

How far was he willing to take it?

His grip on your arm tightened; it wasn’t harsh, but tight enough to send shivers down your spine. And you couldn’t determine a single thing he was thinking again, eyes locked with each other without a single word being spoken.

You could sense his mind wandering off to find you a proper answer, trying to pick his words carefully, but you didn’t want that.

You wanted to know what he was thinking—what was going through his mind when he looked at you like you meant something to him, like he was ready to risk it all.

It was momentarily, but you could see it all—the sudden flint of confidence that didn’t waver enough to be convincing.

It wasn’t long until he returned to the cold demeanor he had been reserving just for you. “No, you’re not fucking worth it,” He muttered, taking a step back before he bit the inside of his cheek—hard. The metallic taste of blood flooded his senses, but he could care less; if he hadn’t done it, he would’ve poured his heart out.

He would’ve risked it all just to see those sparks in your eyes, but with five words, he had managed to kill it, slitting all the possibilities with the sharpest knife he could find.

“W–what?” Your voice cracked, and you fucking hated it. You hated being this weak in front of him, with tears ready to spill every time you had an argument, even over the smallest things.

“Just–Fuck! Look at you,” He didn’t want to say it; he didn’t want to burn this bridge with you, but he knew he had to for his own sake and for you to be happy with Eddie.

“You—you’re all over the place, always relying on others to take care of you, just one fucking night I didn’t baby you…” He shook his head. “And you act like I’m fuckin’ insane for doing that!” His voice was calm and collected, and that was what was throwing you off. How could he relay your insecurities in front of you, crush your heart to pieces, and pretend as if what he was saying was okay?

You couldn’t help it when tears flooded your vision. You tried not to let them get to you, but the alcohol in your system was far too dizzying and hormonal to stop your emotions from flowing. You didn’t know why he decided to utter those words, but it hurt.

Each of the gazes you shared and each word that transpired, deepened the wound in your insides that you didn’t even know existed, your feelings were at the surface, and you were vulnerable at his expense.

But Steve didn’t care. 

“I—I can’t believe you’d say that,” You whispered, blinking the tears away when you took a step back, the hurt subsiding when it transformed into rage. “Fuck you,” You spat, your words weren’t slurred this time, but your vision was blurry again, barely taking another look at him when you started to walk away.

And he didn’t call out after you; he didn’t even flinch. 

You were all alone.

You let your emotions overtake you as you started sobbing, sniffling every once in a while as you tried to comfort yourself. 

Eddie could drop you home, you tried to reassure yourself, you knew there was a payphone close to The Hideout, if you could just walk a few more minutes, you could just call him—but holy fuck, did your feet hurt. You cursed yourself for not listening to Nancy when she told you to wear more comfortable shoes.

You were wobbly now, tears pouring down your cheeks, your smudged mascara distorting your view further, and it was dark out, so fucking dark that it started to scare you.

Your mind reeled more and more, and your chest felt trapped with each shallow breath you took. Eddie would’ve never uttered those words to you, your angry mind decided, Eddie wouldn’t flirt with girls—his exes—in front of you.

Eddie would never give you this sort of emotional whiplash.

And most importantly, Eddie would never leave you like this.

You felt so tired, just wanting to sleep, but you knew you couldn’t turn back now. Your feet were aching, but you’d rather they blistered than see Steve again.

You sat on the ground, relief washing over you when you got rid of your shoes, and the dirty, cold concrete ground felt so comforting that you nuzzled into the leather jacket, arms wrapped around yourself to provide more warmth as you sniffled into it.

You’re not sure if you can ever be with Steve anymore.

Sure, you could still be friends because you did have many big, stupid fights—granted, none of them were like this; this was different. 

This was the first big fight you had with him since you realized your feelings for him, and it hurt.

Steve was not who you thought he was.

He was never going to love you.

He only saw you as his friend, and right now, even that was questionable.

And there you were, pathetically pining after him while he was drooling all over other girls, chasing him down and making a mess of yourself just for him to leave you like this.

You sniffled again; Eddie would never, and he actually was interested in you.

God, how you wished he could find you now, take you home, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he tried to mend what Steve broke.

You knew it was selfish, but it was the only way.

Maybe if Eddie could make you forget him completely, he could remind you that you weren’t a mess and that you were perfect.

Your vision blurred again, hot tears were stinging your eyes, but the ground was so comfortable.

Steve was right, you were a mess, you were a huge fucking mess, and you were pathetic, but you didn’t care as you hugged yourself further, head falling into your lap as you let yourself fall more and more into the deep pit of despair.

And that’s the last thing you remembered.

You didn’t remember Steve running after you as he realized how much he fucked up; you don’t remember Steve seeing you curled up into a ball, almost falling asleep.

You don’t remember Steve lifting you up and carrying you before anything bad happened to you.

You don’t remember the apologies Steve muttered into your ear on the ride home, how he checked every few seconds to make sure you were okay, his hands never leaving yours as he wanted to punch himself for even putting you in a position like this.

You don’t remember Steve whispering sweet nothings into your ear when he tucks you in, and you don’t remember him almost staying till the morning to make sure you were okay and didn’t get sick. 

The last thing you remember was the fight. 

You woke up the next morning with a groan, and you were sure no painkiller was going to help the pounding in your head. 

You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked in the mirror, your hair was an absolute mess, the top that adorned your neck was covered with alcohol stains, your make-up was smudged, and you only had one earring.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” You sighed, taking off the dirty clothes as you put on a comfy shirt, your room was as messy as you were, bag on the floor while its contents spilled out, and… a leather jacket?

Slowly but surely, last night’s events came to you in a blur. The last thing you remembered was the fight you had with Steve. 

Both of you spewed some hurtful things at one another, and that’s the clearest you could remember it.

You examined the leather jacket sprawled over the floor, and your brows knitted together, Steve didn’t even have a jacket on last night; you remembered because Robin made fun of him for not bringing a jacket in February when Steve whined about being cold.

You read the tagline; E.M. 

Oh god.

Was it… Eddie? Did he drop you off when you were embarrassingly drunk?

Was Eddie the one who took care of you the whole night while Steve threw you away like a piece of paper?

You remembered the hurtful things he said to you; your mind was too jumbled up to even recall the nice things he said to you afterward.

You knew you have to talk to him, mend your friendship, but all you could think about now was Eddie, how he took care of you, and how he was there for you. 

That day you called him, and he told you in detail how wasted you were and how he had to carry you home. You made up with Steve afterward too, both of you muttering apologies to each other as you promised not to let stupid things get out of hand. 

And that day, Eddie took you on your first date with him. 

NOW

“Buckley, you mind ringing these up for me?” You beamed, throwing her an innocent smile, your eyes wandering off to Steve’s absence next to her.

You gave her the ‘Evil Dead II’ and ‘Dirty Dancing’ VHS tapes nonchalantly, waiting to ask her about Steve.

Robin’s eyebrows shot up, “What kind of a double-feature is this supposed to be, huh?”

“A very fun one,” You said with a slight smirk, handing her a couple of bills.

You scanned the store, he was nowhere to be seen, of fucking course. “Harrington running from me again?” You almost cursed yourself for saying that out loud, but you couldn’t help it, something snarky would’ve slipped out eventually.

You saw Robin almost freeze, her mouth hanging open as her brain short-circuited to find a quick answer.

“I—It’s fine,” You mumbled. “Just tell him I would really like to talk to him. Once his weird tantrum is over?” You commented; it was snarky again, but he deserved it.

Five days had passed since the party, and Steve had been avoiding you like the plague, not returning your phone calls, and sneaking out the back each time you visited Family Video, and it was driving you crazy.

Determined to talk to him, you spent the last few days re-evaluating everything. You wanted to ask him what the fuck he meant—was everything that led to you dating Eddie a lie?

And did Steve never think to tell you this, even once the two of you broke up? His audacity was pissing you off, more than ever now that he was avoiding you.

Then small things started coming back to you in a flash, like the drunken confession you made to him last week.

But you were still clueless about The Hideout. You racked your brain away, but you couldn’t remember it for the life of you. Even the fight with Steve was so vaguely burned into the back of your brain, you simply didn’t want to remember it, or the hurtful words he uttered to you that night.

You had decided to forgive and forget, had no intention of going back to that head space, until recently, when Steve decided to blurt out that he was the one in Hideout, leaving without explaining anything further.

You tried to fish it out of Robin, but she acted clueless, and you tried everything you could do to reach out to Steve, but it was useless.

So that only left you with one thing.

Eddie.

Eddie had told you the day after The Hideout incident that it was he who took you home, detailing everything that happened that night.

You were basically breathless by the time you made it to Eddie’s trailer, knocking on the door, until it hit you.

What the fuck were you doing? Knocking on Eddie’s door when he had no fucking clue what was happening, when he had no idea you and Steve had kissed.

When he had no idea that you knew.

You shook your head in embarrassment as you turned around, about to leave, coincidentally and to your dumb luck, that’s when Eddie had decided to open the door.

He stood speechless when he saw you, his eyes almost bulging out of his head. “Y/N?” He asked, tone barely audible.

“Hi.” You muttered, accepting Eddie’s invitation as he stood aside for you to enter, and you squeezed by him with a quick ‘thank you’

“Look, I know you’re wondering why the fuck your ex showed up at your door but—”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He interrupted

“I do have an idea,” He smirked slightly, causing you to throw him a confused look, you were about to open your mouth, ask a million questions, but he didn’t let you.

“I know everything,” He muttered, and you couldn’t decide his facial expressions. “Steve told me about all of it.”

“And I already told him there was no bad blood between me and you and that it was fine that you guys kissed—”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“What?!?” You exclaimed, not expecting Steve to babble about it to Eddie when he had been avoiding you.

“Look, honey, Steve was all blabbering and shit when he came to see me, tellin’ me all this shit about how much he liked you and how sorry he was,” Eddie said with a concerned look.

“And I told him it was all fine, Christ—when did we even date, like 2 years ago?” You didn’t answer him and he sighed. 

“I always knew the two of you had something for each other, I mean, why’d you think I got so jealous anytime you guys hung out together alone? He was definitely—“” He rambled for what felt like minutes, and you were quick to interrupt it, eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to process what the fuck was going on.

“Stop!” You exclaimed, “That’s… uhm– good to know, but not what I came in here for,” You muttered, eyes wandering to the ground.

He threw you a quizzed look, brows knitted up together, “I–I wanted to ask you about something,” You gulped.

“Well, spill it out, sweetheart, you’re makin’ me all nervous and shit.” He gave you a dry chuckle.

“What–what exactly happened that day?” You knew he was going to ask what the fuck you were talking about, so you cut him off before he got a chance to speak.

“At The Hideout… Two years ago.” You could see Eddie almost panic visibly, he didn’t expect it, and did it really matter now, after everything?

“Shit… why won’t you ask Steve about all this?” He scratched his head, it was all awkward, you coming here, asking him something that was two years ago, Steve telling Eddie about the kiss while refusing to acknowledge you… 

It was embarrassing, really, and with each passing minute, a rage fueled inside of you. Sick of the hiding, and the lies. You just wanted the truth, and for Steve to not run at the first inconvenience.

“I would, if he didn’t avoid me like a fucking child,” You spat under your breath, causing Eddie to chuckle. He shook his head again.

“Right, so… I’m assuming since it was two years ago, you won’t be mad at me, right?” He asked, an innocent look spreading over his face, almost fearing as he saw how angry you were at Steve.

You almost rolled your eyes, these two idiots were making your blood boil. “Just want the truth, Munson, then I’ll be gone, I promise.”

“Right!” He chuckled nervously before telling you everything that happened that night.

You called Eddie right after you found his jacket, blabbering like an idiot as you thanked him a million times. While Eddie had no fuckin’ clue what had happened, he was still trying to get over his own hangover, but he wasn’t going to completely shut you down, not when he wanted you this badly, not when you were in the grasp of his hands.

As soon as you hung up, promising him a date, he called Steve, and he didn’t even have to beg him to play along; Steve was just... okay with it.

Steve knew the moment Eddie told him about his little crush that the two of you had no chance and that Steve would only be a little thought in the back of your mind, while Eddie would be the first choice, because why wouldn’t he?

Why would you choose him over Eddie?

And with all the sudden information flooding your mind, you weren’t sure how to react, how to vent all these emotions running through your veins, so you did it the only way you knew how; anger.

You checked the clock; 10.08

Steve’s shift should’ve ended long ago by now, you barely mumbled a goodbye to Eddie when you left, mind focused on one thing.

Steve.

You arrived at his door with your lips tightening and your jaw clenching, you weren’t going to give up now; you were going to talk to him. Now or never.

You knocked on the door so hard that you were sure your knuckles were bruising, and Steve was baffled when he opened the door, mouth almost agape as he looked at the sight in front of him.

“You know what you are? A fucking coward,” You mumbled, not giving him a second to process anything as you shook your head. 

“You are a selfish fucking coward! Do you think you can make decisions for other people? You think you can just take their choices away and pretend like everything is fucking fine!” Steve didn’t utter a word when you let it all out, your words meshing with each other, and you could feel your blood boiling each time you spoke, but it was… weirdly relieving.

All that pent up anger was finally coming out.

“And you told Eddie?!? You fucking talked to him but didn’t have the guts to even face me! Five days, five fucking days, I followed you around, you fucking jerk!” You spat, your eyes flashed with anger as your face came closer to him, he didn’t even flinch, eyeing you curiously, those deep honey glazed eyes were warming the more he looked at you.

And Oh God, was his gaze inviting, so warm, but you couldn’t soften up… not when you still had so much to say.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for me? No—no… Fuck that! I don’t even give a fuck if it's embarrassing, I’ve been–I’ve been living a lie and you–it’s your fault…” You mumbled the last part, chest heaving, when your fiery gaze met his, he was itching to talk, and you could tell.

“That—that’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” He muttered, causing your eyes to narrow, “Look why don’t we just go inside and have an adult conversation? No need for these tantrums—” And that hit a nerve. 

“Don’t,” You muttered, closing your eyes, the rage bubbling up to the surface again, gnawing at your skin, waiting to welcome you.

“Don’t you fucking dare to tell me to have an ‘adult conversation’ when you’ve been avoiding me like the plague!” You exclaimed angrily, face heating with anger, Steve nodded, understandingly. He didn’t mean to sound like a jerk, he just wanted to talk to you. He had been debating what to do these last five days, and shutting you out during that was obviously stupid, but that’s how he handled everything, wallowing it all until he chewed his emotions, keeping them hidden.

“What was I supposed to do?” He asked, almost defeated, and it made you want to chuckle, he was sending you over the edge.

“Are you kidding me?” It wasn’t a question; it was stupid for Steve to even attempt to open his mouth.

“You could have talked to me!” You took a deep breath; your anger wasn’t going to help, and if you didn’t talk to Steve as soon as possible, your head might have exploded.

You sighed as Steve stood aside, leading you to the living room, and your anger subsided with each step you took. The familiarity of the house was engulfing you, and you wanted to scream. 

What if Steve had told you this would change nothing?

What if this was it for the two of you?

Your head was swirling, and it hurt, both physically and emotionally. It was taking a toll on you and Steve could sense it.

“What—what really happened… that day?” You asked, voice barely audible as you avoided his gaze.

Steve sighed as he took a seat next to you on the couch, hand itching to lay on your thigh, squeeze it to make you feel comfortable, just so you would look at him, but he resisted it, hand flexing as he placed it between the two of you.

“You–you remember our fight?” He mumbled, causing you to nod. “We both said some stupid shit to each other—”

“Well, you started it—” You gazed up at him, and this time he threw you a look, causing you to close your mouth as if to signal him to continue.

“And—and you left… and the second you did, I just felt this horrible fucking pit in my stomach, I could never—I could never leave you like that,” His voice was shaking, hands flexing again as he inched closer to you.

“I found you on the street, Y/N, almost passed out, and I lost my goddamn mind for leaving you alone—even for a second, I ca—I can’t fucking imagine what I would even do if anything happened to one–one fucking strand of your hair—just the thought makes me sick to my stomach—Jesus.” He muttered, face still toward you as you could trace it now, the worried lines etched onto his forehead, a frown taking upon his usual plump lips, voice cracking as you could sense it, the utter worry and desperation in his voice. 

You couldn’t open your mouth, words failing you as you opted out to hold his hand instead, a small gesture, but one that made Steve’s entire stiffness disappear. One touch from you warming him up immediately.

“I took you home as fast as I could—I tucked you in, made sure you didn’t get sick, and then I left.” 

“Why?” You asked, meekly.

“Why did you let me believe it was him? Why did you ignore me that night?”

“It–it doesn’t matter now,” He mumbled, and your brows furrowed again, fury still locked up inside of you.

“It fucking does!” You snarled, insides burning with anticipation and anger.

“Stop being a fucking coward,” You yelled, you didn’t want to scream at his face, but he left you with no choice. If you wanted to talk to him, you had to get some things out of him, no matter how much it angered you.

“Just tell me, Steve, full transparency, I want it all out.”

Steve’s silence caused a groan out of you, “If you don’t, I’m gonna leave… for good,” You whispered. 

You were bluffing; you weren’t going to go anywhere without getting some closure, but Steve didn’t know that, and he had never seen you this riled up, so he sighed when you got up.

“I didn’t want to lose you!” He got up after you, staring at your back for a full minute until you turned around to meet him, a quizzed look overtaking your features.

“What?”

“God! I wanted to—Shit. I wanted to tell you about how I felt, but then Eddie came and he told me all about how he had feelings for you, and, uh, I just panicked— so fucking hard. I knew you would have chosen him, and I had that rejection one too many fuckin’ times, and I—I knew I couldn’t handle it from you!” He exclaimed, breath ragged as his brown orbs looked at you with such sympathy that you wanted to drop everything and kiss him, tell him that he would always be your first choice.

“I knew you would choose him and—” 

“I didn’t want to be a second choice again, Y/N, I was so fucking scared—” You shook your head.

“Steve you—god, you have no fucking clue about anything,” You chuckled dryly, interrupting him.

“When you ignored me for Tammy that night, when you told me that I wasn’t ‘worth it’ that’s when I decided to contain my feelings for you, I knew you didn’t like me for anything more than friends—I always thought we had a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of relationship but that night, confirmed it for me,” You looked away, almost ashamed, face burning up.

“I felt so fucking desperate—like you wanted to push me away like I was an idiot girl who was clinging onto you, and now everything is just so confusing that I don’t even know what is going on.” Your hands ran through your hair.

“But you were and will always be my first choice,” You didn’t mean to smile, but it just appeared, anger washing away. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You muttered, and Steve’s entire demeanor changed, his body relaxing as he realized how much of an idiot he had been.

“What?” He asked, baffled, a small smile overtaking his lips before you could say another word. 

“Yeah,” You murmured, taking a step closer to him, 

“So… we’re both idiots, huh?” He asked, basking in the way you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes as your warm aura engulfed him.

“Hmmm… I’d say it’s more you than me,” You mumbled, scrunching your nose, as Steve huffed playfully, inching closer and closer to you. You didn’t know where this took the two of you, but your mind was so busy when he was standing this close to you.

One strand of his hair fell onto his forehead, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through them, kiss every inch of his face, run your lips along his soft ones, feel his calloused hands on your curves, grabbing desperately, meek grunts leaving his lips, both of you breathless.

And that’s exactly what you did—without a care, you closed the distance between the two of you with an annoyed huff, fingers running through his shiny hair. 

His hands were quick to land on your hips, grabbing them like he was afraid of you slipping away, once again. And it all felt so easy and familiar that you could feel your head spinning.

His lips brushed against yours softly. You didn’t want this moment to be over, wanting to cling to him forever. Everything he did made you feel foolish and insane, and you understood why being in love felt like losing your mind, again.

Steve groaned into your lips, kissing you harder, once, twice, his lips never fully letting go of you, and you didn’t know if it would ever be enough for you, utterly craving nothing but him.

Your mind was jelly at this point, everything was tangled together while the question of ‘What’s going to happen now?’ lingered in your mind. Did he still want you? Did he still want to be together? Why didn’t he just come to you after talking to Eddie? 

You tried to shake them off, tried to focus on the way Steve’s hands stuck to your body, like they belonged there, and the way his lips moved along yours, like it had always been this way.

You wanted to continue, wanted so badly to not let this moment go, but the bickering voices in your head were too much, and you pulled away slowly. Steve almost groaned when he felt the absence of your lips. He blinked once, twice.

“Oh, fuck. Do that again.” He unintentionally let out, gaze filled with lust as his pupils were blown wide, and a small giggle left your lips. “You are an idiot,” You whispered, your gaze settling on him. 

Was everything going to be okay?

How were you even going to manage to make this work? 

And with that, your expression soured, “Steve,” You said seriously, causing him to look up at you with concern all over his face. “I don’t want to get hurt again.” You murmured, forehead touching his.

“I won’t hurt you, ever.” His gaze was intense, and it made you feel giddy, worries washing away in seconds. You don’t know how he fucking did it, but it worked. 

And you trusted him like no one else. 

You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched into a smile. “You promise?” You gushed.

“With all my heart, honey.” He whispered, taking a deep breath. 

“You have no fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, dreaming about this...”

“I would never, ever do anything to hurt you.” He muttered, his hands tucking the strand of hair that was blocking him from placing messy kisses all over your face. 

“I couldn’t handle losing you, not again,” He murmured before leaning in to press more kisses all over your soft lips.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

bonus scene: just for shits n giggles idk

“What movies did you get today?” He asked with a childish grin on his lips.

“If you weren’t avoiding me, you would’ve known, pretty boy.” You exclaimed dramatically, crossing your arms against your chest.

Pretty boy.

The only thing that stuck in Steve’s brain was that he was your pretty boy.

And this giddy feeling inside of him was never going to go away, he decided.

He huffed playfully before he grabbed your bag, causing you to gasp. “Let’s see…” He murmured as he tried to find the VHS tapes.

“Aha!” He exclaimed as he grabbed the two of them, turning the cover to see what movies you rented. 

“Oh my god,” He murmured. “A double-feature? For us?” He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched into a smile, so warm that you wanted to bathe in the glory of making him this happy.

“Mhmm… First, Evil Dead II for me, and once Stevie gets scared, we’ll put on Dirty Dancing.” You give him a wink.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” He groaned. “You are so fucking perfect, I’m gonna lose my mind.” He placed a kiss on your forehead.

another a/n: so this is a bit messy bc i had too many ideas and this is the best i could do to fit them all in, i hope this doesn't feel that disconnected from the first!! work has been kicking my ass lately so my mind is all mushed lmao!! feel free to leave ur feedback and pls comment, like or reblog to support me ily <33

[choccy-milky]

(SPOILER WARNING to people who haven't read your story) I SWEAR to GOD!!!! This is borderline anon-hate with my current state of mind after finishing The Raven and The Snake over this weekend. I finished it in two days. I'm a mess. I've even started making a playlist because I feel like I can't properly enter reality again. I'm supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis right now,,,, what have you done to me!!!!

I loved it so so so much, and I am very mad I cannot have a collectors edition hardback version of it on my shelf. There are many many moments that keep replaying in my head, and scenes that I saw so vividly when reading through it. The first imperio moment and Sebs shadow and imperio-green eyes as Clora was held captive, and the entire scene in the repository and how I was physically shaking as I slowly realised that Seb had made a fucking horcrux, and when it was CONFIRMED the GASP i GUSPED. It was so perfect, and so very Sebastian; because OF COURSE he made a horcrux (lowkey hot, sue me).

And the scene where Clive realised Seb straight up just died for his daughter without knowing he would be back, oh my dear lord.

And the idea of Seb being seen as a 'Ruffian' and that little mamas boi bitch of a Henry thinking his hand-me-down-riches, muggle ass would be preferable to a powerful wizard. I secretly wished they didn't have to keep magic a secret so Henry could have known just how inferior he was. AND SEB APPARATING SO FAR UMPH the skilllll.

I could go on and on and on, and maybe I will some other time in your inbox when I have another mental breakdown.

And now I'm also almost done with the small sequel. Just taking a break to bombard you with this unhinged message of mine. And how you draw Sebastian is so fucking good. It's actually what got me reading in the first place. I see your version as being in a completely separate universe from the game, cause the way you draw him just has that something, and it's not the same anywhere else. It certainly doesn't help my obsession that my own boyfriend has the same features and colour palette as him, now I think I might even use your art as inspo for next time we need wardrobe additions.

I love you and I hate you.

Ps. Of course I added Sarah Smiles to the playlist and also Far too young to Die, and Just One Yesterday. If you've any other songs you think match please let me knowww~~

BRUHHHHH I ALMOST FEEL NARCISSISTIC FOR POSTING/RESPONDING TO THIS ASK BC ITS JUST PRAISE BUT DAMN THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭😭IM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!! FORGET WRITING YOUR BACHELORS THESIS, TY FOR WRITING A THESIS ON WHY U LOVED MY FIC SO MUCH AND ALL THE LIL THINGS U ENJOYED BAHAHAHA (love the henry slander) im also glad u like how i draw seb too, and i love how thats what made u start reading it in the first place BAHAH but fr, sometimes i try drawing seb more accurately to his ACTUAL appearance and then im like... Who The Hell is this... and it may sound arrogant since im the artist but my seb is MY seb, yknow...its why i dont like drawing him with other mc's romantically. bc even tho its like, oh look, that's Sebastian Sallow™ from the hit game Hogwarts Legacy™! in my style if i draw him with another MC, its like, NO!!! THATS NOT SEBASTIAN SALLOW™, THATS CLORA'S HUSBAND🤺🤺THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING BOI??🤺🤺🤺 LMAOO but rly TY AGAIN💖💖💖 not only for reading but also taking the time to write all this and let me know how much you enjoyed it🥹🥹i (and all writers, really) always love getting stuff like this!! it also brings me back to when i was writing it, especially now that ive been finished with my fic for a few months, listening to u react to all the diff scenes is making me miss it and giving me nostalgia for my own damn fic FRRR😩 also i love that youre making a playlist LMAOO thats how u know the brainrot truly has a hold on you IM SO SORRY🙏🙏 i actually made a seb and clora playlist like last year and its somewhere in my ask tag if you look through that?? but one song that i can recommend off the top of my head (which i almost made their anthem in that OTP chart) is arms tonite by mother mother...whenever i listen to it i cant help but laugh to myself bc its SO perfect for the chap where seb sacrifices himself....YOULL SEE WHEN U LISTEN😇💖

[gummydummy19]

Month six: Army nurse (October)

Summary: Sy is too grumpy and proud to ask for help, so you do what needs to be done.

Content Warnings: fluff, grumpy sy, bad writing idk lol APOLOGIES

Word Count: 2900+

(this is part six to my series: A year in apartment 6B)

October 4th:

“Can I doodle on your cast?”

It was Sunday. The most sacred day of the week. The weather had been getting gloomier recently, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. Fall was your favourite season by far.

You and Sy were hanging on the couch, 4 hours into the Harry Potter marathon you finally convinced him to partake in.

“Hmm?” He groaned sleepily

“Can I draw something on your cast?” You repeated your earlier request

“Like what?”

“I don’t knoooww…I’m bored” you whined

“You’re kidding right? You nagged my damn ear off about these movies and now you’re bored?”

“Well not bored bored just, I need something else to do while we’re watching.”

Sy huffed as he ran his palm over his face and down his beard, clearly debating you request.

“Oh pretty pretty please with a cherry on top?” You begged

“Fine! But I better not catch you drawing a dick or some shit” he grumbled, making you chuckle as you jumped up to get your markers.

October 10th:

'Syverson, I swear to god if you don't pipe down and eat your damn veggies Im gonna tie you down and make you.'

The man was stubborn as a damn bull, but so were you damnit.

“Is that a promise, darling?” he replied with that damn smirk of his, making you roll your eyes as you tried to hide the inevitable blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Can it and eat” you rushed out, pointing your fork at him.

You wanted to help him. That’s what good friends do. Sure, some days you debated to either push him down the stairs or kiss him silly. But neither of those seemed very friendly of you, so you settled for just helping him.

It didn’t seem to bad at first, but the longer that damn cast stayed on, the grumpier he got.

You understood he was a man of pride, you really did, but there really wasn’t any shame in allowing you to help him from time to time, at least that’s how you saw it, but try explaining that to captain grumpy…

October 17th:

“I said I was fine didn’t I?” Sy grumbled, trying to manoeuvre himself through the kitchen on his crutches.

'Would you stop acting like a damn child?' You yelled

'Then stop treating me like a damn child!'

“Im not! I’m just trying to help!”

“I don’t need your damn help! I’m a grown man and I was doing just fine before you came along”

Okay, that stung.

'Fine!' Have it your way!' you huffed, 'Aika, c'mere girl' you called out, allowing Aika to walk past you and out the door before you slammed it angrily behind you.

You walked through the chilly, orange tinted streets with Aika trotting proudly beside you, glancing up at you every few seconds.

'He such an ass...' you grumbled, hugging yourself tighter as the cold fall breeze huffed passed you, helping you cool off.

Part of you had hoped having Sy back in the apartment would ease your ‘crush’ or whatever it was you had going on. You spent months trying to convince yourself you were just horny and alone. Fantasising about your hot roommate while he was away was just a way of coping. Right?

Except that since Sy came home your feelings had been all over the place. You worried about him like crazy. Which kinda scared you. You were nobody to him, so why did it matter to you wether or not he ate his damn vegetables?

Every time he made a flirty comment, you thought maybe he felt it too, but then when you offered to help him, he’d get all grumpy and cold. Sometimes you just felt ridiculous for even trying.

Your internal rant got interrupted when you felt Aika’s leash tug on your arm, bringing you to a rather abrupt halt.

“Wha- Aika come on.” You called, looking back at where she was currently sitting.

For a second you wondered why she had stopped, but then you noticed something.

She was sitting right next to some run down costume store. Nothing special at first glance, but then you noticed something in the window. For $29.99 including fake stethoscope and the promise of at least 4 jaws on the floor per room you walk into; a mildly sexist, hot nurse outfit.

“What do you think, Aika?” You looked down at your furry companion and you swore she nodded in agreement.

You've never bought something so fast in your entire life.

October 21th:

“what...what are you doing? Is that one of my chopsticks?!' You shrieked as you entered the living room, only mildly horrified by what you were currently looking at.

Syverson was sitting on the couch, well, sitting wasn't exactly the proper term for it. He was damn near folded in half. His big, muscly body bend over his stretched leg with one of your chopsticks in his hand, trying to poke around his cast.

“My foot itches,” he grumbled “Can you please just help?”

The past couple of days you tried avoiding Sy. He hadn’t apologised, neither had you. You figured it was one of those things you best ignored, but as he sat there whining for your help, you couldn’t help but make a snarky comment.

'Oh so, now you need my help?' you commented, rolling your eyes as you stepped closer, Aika still by your side.

You took the chopstick from him and carefully prodded around inside his cast. Sy fell back on the couch, groaning in relief.

'Little lower...just a little-Ah! Right there, sugar! Fucking hell...'

His words alone made your cheeks glow bright red, let alone the damn sounds he was making...You desperatly searched for a change of topic, when a certain scent hit your nostrils.

'Hey uh...Sy? When did u last shower?' You asked, retreating the chopstick and giving his big toe a poke. Sy propped himself up to look at you, raising his eyebrow at your comment.

“A proper shower? Must have been months.” He replied, chuckling at your grossed out face

'I've washed the important bits, don't you worry, sugar.' He winked

“Judging by this smell, I seriously doubt it.' you replied, trying to ignore yet another one of his flirty comments. Sometimes it felt like he knew what went on in your brain. Every dream, every fantasy. It felt like he saw right through you.

“It ain’t that bad.” He said, just when Aika stuck her nose near his foot, quickly retreating once she smelled his cast.

“See that? Even our dog won’t go near it!”

Normally, Sy would have been quick with a response, but he was busy trying to ignore the way his chest fluttered when you said ‘our dog’.

'You smell ripe, old man. This could be used as a fucking nuclear weapon. One whiff of this and the entire middle east would wave a white flag in a second.' you stated

'Hey, watch your mouth young lady!' Sy shot back with a raised finger.

'I could help you, if you want.' you carefully suggested

'Help me with what?' He grinned, knowing exactly what you were saying.

'Help you wash...'

'My important bits?' he teased

'Oh forget it' you groaned, turning away making Sy laugh

Before you could get too far, Sy got ahold of your wrist and tugged you back, making you sit down next to him.

“If you really wanted to see my dick that bad, you could’a just asked, sugar”

'I'm just worried your dick is growing a second dick"

That actually made him chuckle. The sound made your heart soar a little and you tried to ignore it.

“Well both of my dicks are fine, thank you very much”

He sat up, his face mere centimeters from yours. His fingers danced along your face, brushing some stray hairs out of his way. His voice got real low and quiet when he said,

'Besides, I'm not allowed to get this cast wet.'

Your eyes grew wide, as they gazed into his devilish ones.

He was doing this on purpose. He knew how he made you feel, the effect he had on you, he knew.

It took ever fibre in your body to shake yourself out of it.

“Okay, first of all, I meant when the cast comes off and second of all you’d be wearing underwear you moron” you stated, “and you damn well knew I meant that.”

Sy tried to hide his grin as he looked down and gave Aika a pet on her head.

“Why do you insist on helping me so much?” He asked, rather serious all of a sudden

“Because, well…I don’t know, we’re roommates” you mumbled,

“Doesn’t mean anything” he said dryly

That pissed you off a bit.

“Well, it does to me.” You replied, “Your family lives far away, and I know for a fact you’re far too proud to actually ask anyone else to come and help you.”

Sy didn’t interrupt you, so you continued, getting a little more riled up as you spoke.

“I live here now, wether you like it or not. It might not mean shit to you, but it means something to me. I’m a good roommate and an even better friend. Im not gonna let you rot away. I wanna help you because I’m a decent fucking person and it’s the bare minimum I can do.” You rambled before adding, “Oh and truth be told, Sy, I figured you’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed, but I’m strongly debating that right now.”

You don’t know when exactly you got upset, but suddenly you wanted to be anywhere but here.

“I’m gonna take Aika for her walk now if you-”

“Could you please drive me to the hospital on Monday?” Sy interrupted you

“What?”

“My cast comes off on Monday, I’d appreciate it if you could drive me.” He stated again

“I uh, yeah sure. I can get a day off from work.”

“Thanks” he muttered, scratching the back of his head

And just like that, Sy had finally apologised to you.

October 23rd:

“My colleagues are throwing a halloween party next week, you should come. Get out the house, socialise, that sorta thing?”

You were driving Sy back from the hospital, where he had finally gotten his cast removed. The doctor said he needed at least 4 weeks of physio-therapy, but he should be fine, which was a huge relief.

“Not really a big fan of parties, sugar.” He replied “plus, I aint got no custume.”

“You have your army clothes, don’t you? I could splatter some ketchup on you if you want.” You joked, making him crack a smile, showing off his fangs in the process.

“Or a vampire…” you mumbled, staring at his pearly whites.

“What?”

“Uh, n-nothing!” You replied, focussing back on the road, “So what do you say, huh? I think a party would do you good, Captain grumpy.”

“Hmm…what are you going as?” He asked, brow raised as per usual.

“Ill tell you if you let me cut your hair.” You suggested

“Like hell! You ain’t touching my hair, woman!”

“What if you just let me wash it then?”

“You really wanna get me naked, don’t you?” He joked, making you role your eyes

“I meant over the sink but whatever, dumbass”

“Fine, ill let you wash my hair if you tell me what you’re going as.”

“And let me cut it?!”

“Okay fine! And Ill let you cut it! Just tell me already.”

You smirked at your small victory before saying, “I’m going as a nurse”.

Sy’s eyes twinkled at the thought of you in a nurse outfit

“Ill go with you if you wear it while washing my hair” he smirked

“You’re an actual dog, Syverson.”

October 28th:

“Are you sure you know what your doing?” Sy asked unsure

He was propped on one of your high chairs over the sink at the kitchen island. You had a pair of scissors and a bunch of hair products scattered all over the marble top.

“Sure, can’t be that hard, can it?” You smiled, “now just relax”

You checked the temperature of the water on your hand before gentle running the tap over Sy’s dark head of hair. Your free hand softly wove through his locks, nails massing into his scalp.

“Oh fuck…” he muttered under his breath

“Too hot?” You asked

“N-no no, s’perfect sugar. Feels nice.”

His eyes were closed and you could see the tension seep out of his body as you rinsed out his hair.

A proud smile tugged at your lips with every appreciative hum that came from him.

You studied his face carefully as you took your time washing and conditioning his hair. Not a lot was said, but you didn’t mind. The silence allowed you to look at his beautiful face. Every scar, every spot, every hair. He was so gorgeous it almost hurt your eyes. Peace was a good look on him.

When his hair was all rinsed out, you gently towel-dried it, before draping the towel over his shoulders and grabbing the scissors.

Your fingers tangled through his locks as you studies his hair carefully, trying to figure out a starting point.

“Alright so, I’ll just trim up the sides a little and just shorten the general length. Sound good?”

“Whatever you say, Sugar…” Sy hummed, making you grin.

You were enjoying his compliant behaviour until you accidentally closed your first a bit too tight, pulling the root of his hair so hard his head yanked back a little, making Sy groan in what you presumed was pain.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You rushed out, soothing his scalp gently over the sore spot.

Sy let out a yelp that turned into half a groan before it became a couch as he jumped up and faced away from you.

“I-uh…gotta go to the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back.” He mumbled before walking off, pulling the towel off his shoulders and holding it against his crotch…

…hmm…weird?

October 31rd:

“I just don’t wanna go alone, Sy, come on! I don’t know a bunch of people there”

You yelled from down the hall. Sy was sitting on the couch in the living room, the same spot he’d been sitting all day.

His leg had been killing him all day. You just knew it.

Ofcourse he would never tell you because first of all, he can’t stand it when you’re right and second of all he didn’t wanna ruin her night. If he told her, she’ll stay home and miss the party, and he didn’t want that.

“You’ve been sitting on the couch all day! It’s gonna do you good to get out of the house” you spoke, standing closer to him now.

He finally looked up from the tv to see you standing in your nurse costume, stethoscope hanging over your shoulders, knee high socks hugging your thighs, heels just the right height…

It’s a shame you’re not a real nurse because Sy’s was definitely experiencing some shortness of breath…

“Nah, sorry Sugar, but you go have fun” he said, trying his best not to sound like he was in excruciating pain “I’m gonna go take a shower”

“A cold one”, he silently added.

“Fine, I’ll see you later then.” You watched as he made his way to the bathroom

It was clear from the way he was walking that he wasn’t doing good.

You heard him turn on the water as your rummaged through your purse, double checking if you had everything you needed.

After doing a final mirror check, you were about to walk out the door but you were stopped by a loud thud and a yell coming from the bathroom.

“Sy?!” You yelled out a little panicked, but you didn’t get any response

Before you could stop yourself you rushed to the bathroom and barged in, seeing Sy laying on the bathroom floor in nothing but his boxers. (A pair that looked a little familiar to you for some reason, but that’s besides the point)

“Sy, what the hell?! Are you okay??” You rushed to his side, quickly checking him for injuries

“Damn leg won’t do what I want it to” he groaned out

“How many painkillers have you taken today?”

“Took my last one this morning…m’all out…” he mumbled

“Sy you should have told me, I could have stopped by the pharmacy!”

“I’m a grown ma-”

“Yeah yeah you’re a grown man, I’ve heard it!” You interrupted “a grown man would have made sure he had enough pain meds!”

“I have some extra’s in the cupboard for emergencies.” You said, “I’m gonna get you some and then I’m gonna run you a bath and you’re gonna let me help you for once.”

“You don’t have to, really…”

“Oh relax, you can keep your boxers on but I’m not letting you shower by yourself when you can barely stand”

“What about your party?” He asked

“What about it?” You replied calmly as you walked out the room to get his meds.

A good 20 minutes later the smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon filled the room along with the calming sounds of the water.

At first he had whined about not needing a bath bomb but you just knew he secretly enjoyed being pampered as much as you loved pampering him.

You were sitting next to the tub, absentmindedly running your loofah over his muscular back when suddenly, amidst the silence, you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“What’s so funny, Sugar?” He asked, raising his brow as he stared at you.

“You finally got me to give you a bath in the stupid costume…”

A/N: AAAAAAAAA ITS FINALLY POSTED IM SO SORRY PLS DONT HATE ME IM SORRY IF ITS BAD ALSO JDHHDUZFZSFXFC Im currently on vacation and I swear I wrote like 95 procent of this on my phone at the pool and Im now finally posted this from my moms laptop so HAVE MERCY ON ME PLSSSS xoxo as always comments and reblogs are very highly appreciated!

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo

@princessayveke

@montsepliego

@scxrletrecsmarvel

@hopelesslyrogers

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@tfandtws

@vicmc624

@ahahafudge

@enchantedbarnes

@wickedravyn

@pono-pura-vida

@amayaraestyles

@matchat3a

@fictional-hooman

@sebastianexplicit

@peaches1958

@avengersfan25

@jamneuromain

@tryingtoliveonmywishes

@mrsevans90

@daybreak96

@tiredqueen73

@fallingforunrealisticromance

@identity2212

@randomweirdoss

@ragamuffin285

@juliaorpll78

@geralts-yenn

@imjusthereforliam

@bangtanstoeart

@squeezyvalkyrie

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@superduckmilkshake

@kingliam2019

@bascmve01

@missgaygurl

@ragamuffin285

[t1oui]

can I please get your thoughts on rosekiller raising Luna?? I've been obsessed with it lately and you've mentioned it before I want to know more about your headcannons!!!

AAAAAA OKAY im obsessed with them too but i think this has been established. just

first of all think canon luna but 10x more unhinged bc rosekiller are not doing her any favors in the "having morals" and "acting normal" departments (we love that for them)

BARTY CALLS LUNA PRINCESS. i am so... no i cant even lie and say im normal about this it's just a fact of life. he calls her princess and he treats her like one too.

they probably commit crimes or something (if you want more info on this search "criminal au" on my blog bc i have so many thoughts... there's also like 3 things under the tag "criminal au 2 electric boogaloo" lol)

this tag on one of my posts. it says a lot

back to what i said about luna being treated like a princess: does she dress weird? yes. but her clothes and necklaces and the radishes she makes earrings out of are TOP TIER QUALITY bc their girl deserves that.

the three of them wear friendship bracelets

what luna calls them depends on how she's feeling - sometimes she calls them uncle barty and uncle evan, sometimes papa and dad, sometimes just barty and evan

luna gets her offputting gaze from evan and it shows

somehow she's actually such a well-rounded child?? absolutely nobody expects this

rosekiller encourage luna's interests!!!

the three of them cuddle a lot, especially luna and barty.

luna gets all the hogwarts gossip and reports it back to barty via owl

barty 100% teaches luna to drive at age 10 (evan is sitting in the backseat hanging on for dear life)

barty teaches luna how to pickpocket and evan teaches her potions (he doesn't talk about pandora and reg that often, but he makes sure she's got their skill sets)

autistic luna getting a new pair of noise-cancelling headphones. barty and evan helping her cover them in stickers. barty asking to try them out. luna and evan getting him his own pair and covering them in stickers for him :))

(barty cries)

(he actually cries a lot bc "hey, it's okay to cry, luna. no, i'm not crying because of that card you just gave me, but the drawing was really nice and i'm going to cherish it forever")

(she sees right through him but she doesn't say so)

whoever luna ends up with gets a very serious shovel talk from barty and evan (evan does most of the talking, barty just sits there glaring at luna's partner).

ginny finds it funny as hell. anybody else is scared shitless. (this gets ginny a good rep with barty and evan.)

they're soooo soft for each other.

i'm a personal fan of luna and cho being friends and i have a feeling evan and barty would, inexplicably, love her.

barty and evan hate sirius. sirius hates them back. the order of the phoenix has an unspoken rule that the three of them are not allowed in a room together.

barty is italian and luna & ev both know italian for him, so they speak italian with each other a lot.

muggle au rosekiller raising luna!! they hold a special place in my heart. barty and evan run an italian restaurant together and luna is a waitress there. (so is harry.)

yk how snape treats harry like shit bc he hated james? yeah, barty and evan treat harry well bc regulus loved james. (also bc they don't take out their anger on children but mostly bc being mean to someone who reminds them of regulus would hurt too much.)

i swear i have more thoughts about them but i'm totally blanking right now so uhh... feel free to send more asks and i will reply when i have thoughts !! thanks for the ask :)

[forbidden-main-character]

Tumblr, we meet again. In peace, I swear.

You see, it kind of gets boring waiting hours on end in a white void with like... nothing. So I thought, might as well do something to pass the time. I somehow haven't gotten my phone taken or broken in any way, so I'm hoping for the best :/

(ooc starts here)

important stuff:

-no nsfw

-shipping is alright ig, just preferably not with the CG/mercs

-TDL related stuff is kind of complicated, if you hc TCO and TDL in a certain way I'll just go with it

-(assume everything that isn't in parentheses or with // is in character unless I say otherwise)

updated 2/12/24

-so apparently I'm a huge tco x freedom guy shipper. uhh yeah just for people to keep in mind idk how I'd react with a freedom guy blog

-I just went through and actually tagged my shit so yeah og posts, ooc posts, asks and usernames are tagged idk if that's how you're meant to do it I'm trying my best 😔

updated 3/3/25

i’ll put my status right here since my schedule is weird n stuff! and also whether I can draw asks/interactions i should’ve came up with this sooner lmao

{ edited 3/11, just check my main for my status i’m not juggling both of these around }

ALSO IDK IF ITS LIKE THIS FOR ANYONE ELSE BUT I DON’T GET NOTIFICATIONS! so uh yeah sometimes if im on other apps and stuff i wont see if you sent an ask sooo

ooo red text

that moment when you mistap on your tablet and the formatting explodes

holy shit i didnt know you could color text- anyways

uhh so yeah this is ran by @asteroid-fruitcup and that's it, farewell have a wonderful day/afternoon/night fellow sillies

[lock3d-n-load3d]

Alrighty, that should be this blog set up. Still workin' out a few kinks 'n all but now you lot can send us some asks. For context, heres an image of us that should be on the header though its glitching on our end.

From left to right, these are:

Firebug, our resident Pyro. They like going on treks across the badlands, and enjoy bugs. Apparently we're all bugs to 'em. I'm a carpenter bee in their eyes.

Reese, thats me. I'm the one typing all this. Do I really gotta explain myself?

René, our damned Spy whose held me at gunpoint too many times. Hes good at what he does though.

Stanislav or Stas, our Heavy. I havent spoke with 'im much. He aint much of a talker. Though I've heard of a certain someone here who might like him.

Archie, the Sniper. Not much to say about him.

John, the Scout. Hes like a rat sometimes, and has a superiority complex worse than our doc to boot, but hes a good kid.

Terry, our Soldier. Likes planes, surprisingly. He also likes gambling. We've banned 'im from poker night though because hes a sore loser.

Demobot, more of a mystery than Firebug. Though I usually keep him in fightin' form. Hes a robot afterall. Though I swear we were meant to be gettin' a human. Ah well, Demo is a good'n, even though he scares me sometimes.

Rafel, our Medic. Hes crazy, obsessed with some Francis guy, and is the one guy you should avoid talking casually about birds to unless you want an hour long mininum infodump about whatever bird you point out to him. Same goes for him talking about said Francis guy. Or do, it might mean he doesnt kidnap one of us so he can ramble as much as he wants again.

'N thats all of us! Hoping for some asks or the like soon

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

Hello! Hi! Mod Epi here! First ever RP blog of mine and its all my TF2 loadouts. Asks will be answered weekly, though any mod updates will go under the #Epi's Announcements tag and all of me talking will be in blue, because why not. Also me talking will go under #Epi's deranged rambles and any asks for me will go under #Epi talks to the voices

Other tags include:

#Firebug answers - questions that Firebug answers

#Reese answers - questions that Reese answers

#René answers - questions that René answers

#Stas answers - questions that Stas answers

#Archie answers - questions that Archie answers

#John answers - questions that John answers

#Terry answers - questions that Terry answers

#Demobot answers - questions that Demobot answers

#Rafel answers - questions that Rafel answers

#Team talks - one or more of the team talking

#Rafel's bird infodumping - Rafel talking extensively about birds

#Firebug's doodles - Firebug's drawings, usually of bugs

#Team answers - when the entire team answers an ask, usually only applies if 5 or more are asked at once because I want to keep my fingers intact

And there you go, thats all the tags. As of now this blog is fully text-only except for if theres any Firebug doodles, though I'm planning to try grab SFM at some point so I can make some scenes and the like, or I'll just use loadout.tf for it I dont know.

Something else to note is that SOME asks may be a bit on the more suggestive side, which means they will be under the #Askers are horny tag. Which also means yes I will answer suggestive asks if I feel comfortable with them. I will not be prioritising these asks over normal ones.

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

my discipline regimes have Been fruitful so far. It's a month since I started , well, 4.5 weeks, I wanted to start as soon as 2025 began but I had to wait til January 5th cus i was sick.

almost every day i have completed everything on my list Which is reading, meditating, yoga or walking (Sometimes both), guitar practice, and ableton Or drawing (Occasionally both but thats rare. Usually i choose ableton)

playing guitar every day for a month not missing a single day is helping a lot. Now i can do minor & major scales to the metronome pretty much perfect without even having to look at my hands Lol For me that's good OK!!!! Before I would have to watch what i'm doinf but my muscle memory is SM better

i made 4 songs so far 2 of them are more complete but none of them have vocals yet I want to work on that next.. I will probably just release singles beofre i try to release another EP again because i feel like people just want singles these days haha... They dont want to wait so long for new music

Meditating is going rly good Im so glad David Lynch Sama convinced me to go Deep with it for real for real Like this is what i've always wanted to do But i was scared. It's scary. To meditate. For some reason. Until it's not

I kinda miss weed although i dont actually miss weed but i miss having something to take the edge off Because i feel really crazy

Like i cant stop wishing i could die its really constant lately! IDK man

IDK why i do anything :) Why i do these things- Discipline and stuff. I genuinely do not know. It feels ultimately pointless. BUt like there's nothing else! There's nothing else.

I think i'm really losing it but i'm proud of myself I'm Proud for being regimented and committed and doing evverything I can to be responsible and stay grounded even though I have the seething urge to totally destroy myself 24/7. I Swear I am like the most "OK" version of Me i have ever been like i am the most high functioning SICKO i ever known I Guess my ego desires can live, with that

Just do tasks do tasks do tasks, Do your tasks, be a person, do your tasks, tasks tasks tasks, Maid, Robot, Tasks, Clear-head, head too clear, too much edge, do tasks, do tasks, do tasks, Yay

[gamenburger]

ALRIGHT EVERYONE, HERE'S WHAT IM UP TO:

Thank you for finding and following me. Periodically I like to give updates to keep me accountable for what I'm working on. Here is the short list of what You will see from me in the future: MID DECEMBER: UnSanctioned RECollection (Goblin Bunker Zine Jam #3) I run a zine jam in the GOBLIN BUNKER, which I hang out in regularly. This one was about emulation and piracy (vaguely)! I am drawing the cover and finalizing the order as we speak, so expect a release for digital and all printing formats before Christmas! Find older Zine Jam entries here! https://gamenburger.itch.io/ END/BEGINNING OF the YEAR: Every year I write a long blog about every impactful media and every game I played this year. It's quite a bit, and i draw a lot of pictures for it too. Expect it this year as well on my blog, Grim In Pink | Substack SOMETIME MID JANUARY: THE RETURN OF MOBIUS LOOP Some of you may have actually followed me for sonic related reasons. THats right, i run an archie sonic read-along in the goblin bunker too with discord user rist! They're cool... and do most of the real interesting work. Issue 8 will cover EVERYTHING we've read, so it will be a great way to catch up if you want to join! you can find older issues here: https://gamenburger.itch.io/

Soon AFTER, but in no particular order:

ANALYSIS OF THE KILLER: yes. I want to revisit the game and give spoilerfic analysis- i'm not ready to let go just yet. I'll keep you all posted when i draw stuff for it.

FROM THE DESERT SAND, WE BUILT A BURGER: My current passion project... I mean to put into longform words a giant analysis on the politics of food distribution, mcdonalds, and two terrible movies I hate to my core.

A MONTHLY ARTICLE YOU CAN HAVE MAILED TO YOU? MAYBE? I may have an opportunity soon...

Plussing my old articles/ reviews as zines so i can table them? Maybe? IDK? People like that koopa kids article....

Two zines, one about BEFORE THE GREEN MOON and one about 24 KILLERS. please play those games if you havent. They are excellent.

There is an article about Sonic 2's level layouts collecting dust. I swear I will finish it.

And much later, something else...?

Thank you for sticking around everyone.

[brynnterpretations]

came across this blog and felt like i struck gold!! lolol!! anyway so in love with it rn and kindly requesting a bowers gang ship from you.. 5'6 (or around there, or i just say it to make myself look good?) skinny but kinda toned, getting there. brown shitty grown-out wolfcut with blonde highlights. green eyes, i dress like adam sandler because comfort > style i fear. i pretend to be a cocky bitch but im humble and genuine where it matters. laughter is my cope and my purpose, i love making my friends laugh and im not afraid to talk back to somebody if i know nobody else will. i can blurt out things from nowhere and sometimes i talk about people way too loudly when they're in earshot. sometimes i can be overly direct, or come off as overbearing, but i just get anxious and i cant handle what if's. i like drawing, but im a horrible perfectionist and give up too quick; i dont allow myself patience, or the ability to try again. usually in the heat of assignments i just shut down and expect everything to work out. im a clean freak and often clean my house for my own peace of mind. i can appear very frazzled and forget things easily, like printing a sheet twice because i walked away with the first one after swearing i grabbed it. i like video games, writing, and thinking about things way too deeply. i like museums, and quieter places, because people and sound overwhelm me. i like all music that sounds good, but im big on death grips, tyler the creator, kmfdm, deftones, and a bit of weezer from time to time. i have a preference, but i want a surprise!! i hope i didnt write too much, ive never done one of these before >_< thank you

Thank you so much for the request! I'm so happy you enjoy my blog; this made me smile. I hope you like this regardless of preference. ♡

I ship you with...

Victor Criss ♡

Boyfriend

Victor takes notice of you at Derry Public Library. Victor is a big reader, and during the times he's able to slip away from the Bowers Gang and have some time to himself without being called every slur in existence, he heads to Derry Public Library, where you often sit down to write.

Victor had seen you around school, but hadn't known enough about you at that time to start talking to you. He usually has to see someone doing something that catches his eye, and considering you didn't share many classes together during that quarter, he only thought you were attractive from afar.

However, when he first saw you at the library and continued to see you, he decided to take it upon himself to talk to you after the third or fourth time. After you began packing up your art supplies, he decided to come up to you (as an artist himself, he knows how shy people can get about others seeing their work and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable) and spark up a conversation.

Through that, you and Victor get alone very, very naturally. Victor is attracted to rambly, sarcastic, walls-up types, and you fit the bill. Too, you share a similar sense of humor, and it ends very well: not with an outright number-sharing, or date, but a promise to see each other more.

And, you do. Victor tries to keep it private considering his reputation — he doesn't want the Gang giving you grief, or others' perceptions harming you — but he talks to you consistently at school, and loves your sense of humor. He does subtle, but gentlemanly things, like helping carry your books, offering (and letting you keep) his coat in cold weather, so on and so forth.

Two to three weeks later, he asks you on a date to your favorite restaurant and, afterward, the arcade, and you two hit it off well.

Fun fact about Victor: he is abysmally awful at video games. Something about them just don't click for him, so you destroy him in everything you two play (and that does not make him feel emasculated; in fact, it makes him feel proud).

You two date for about a month, going to the library, Derry's very small town museum, and Derry's only café, before he asks to make things official after school one day when you two are alone, as to not pressure you.

Once you two are together, you are definitely one of Derry's cutest couples. It's not in-your-face, but it's not hidden, either, though Victor tries to mediate your interactions with the guys (more on that later). If you're involved in any extracurriculars, Victor will always show up for you, but if not, he'll still show up for you, whether it's in the library, walking you out from class (which he will always do), etc.

Loves your fashion taste. He doesn't really have a "preference" for any fashion tastes, but he does really like the comfy look, since it's not "try-hard" and he tends to dress the same as well. He does like matching vibes, and you two have matching vibes.

Also, considering you like alternative and experimental music, Victor would be very much into whatever canon-period music you're into. Victor himself is attracted to more "boundary-pushing" music, like post-punk and gothic rock, so he'd find your music taste both in-line with his tastes and refreshing. Music is a big part of relationships for Victor, since he likes to enjoy new things, artists, and ideas.

Victor is the calmest of the gang, and, while he does have his struggles with mental health himself, also tends to be a measured and calm person himself. Because of that, he not only understands your feelings, but is able to be there for you and calm you down when you're stressed out.

Unless it's some dire, end-of-the-world situation, he does not get frustrated by any frazzled or type-A behavior (and instead would find it cute in low-stakes, shit-I-forgot-my-mini-paper-clip situations) and is always there to help calm you down.

Victor does have a tendency to "chill out" to the point of not caring anymore (a defense mechanism for him), so he does appreciate that you are always engaged in your life, even if to your own detriment sometimes.

He is very protective of you, and because of that, will try to avoid the Bowers Gang negatively impacting you. However, he won't want to hide aspects of his life from you, so he'll introduce you to them, and invite you to their hang-outs.

That brings us to...

Bowers Gang ☻

Friends

You and Belch are the closest out of the group. Belch started out having a crush on you for the assertive-funny combo as well as your appearance (he actually crushed on you before Victor due to sharing a class with you), but eventually, it waned due to how good of friends you two are.

Belch loves your sense of humor, and does appreciate your sense of music even if he doesn't fully get it (listen, he's a metalhead), and your ability to ramble helps him a lot. He's super shy, so if he's ever left with Patrick (who doesn't like him) or Henry (who cannot keep up a friendly conversation to save his life) you always save his life.

You, Belch, and Victor are the "main gang" during parties while Henry and Patrick fuck off, and hang out together, typically on the porch (you and Victor sharing a blunt, Belch sipping a beer as he does not want to see God again—he does not fuck with weed).

Patrick likes you a lot... but that is not exactly great to deal with (in my humble opinion). Your sense of humor and appearance catches him, but that comes with very unpleasant interactions and sexual harassment.

In the Trans Am, he will consistently try to get you to sit closer to him and feel you up. Victor always stands up for you (once, he told Patrick to "shut the fuck up and stick to himself"), but, still... uncomfortable.

However, you two can have amicable conversations from time to time. Patrick also is a big-thinker, albeit disturbingly, and when you get to certain topics, you two can get along pretty well without Victor wanting to wring Patrick's neck out.

But, as for Henry... you drive him up the wall.

Sorry, please don't take it personally, but the guy is 99% stress, surrounded by other stress-balls, and any human emotion you show to him on a bad day will make him internally lose his shit.

In my interpretations, Victor is his closest friend, so he won't lose his shit on you, but you do piss him off. He's fine with you when you're in a good mood, but the few times you've been anxious, you rubbed off on him in a bad way due to his lack of emotional intelligence.

But, slightly-comforting side note: Henry's a lot more forgiving when he gets drunk, and has a good conversation with you then after a particularly rough night. The next morning, he hopes you forgot, but isn't entirely sure; however, that "what-if" that you save with your tact puts you in good favor with him.

So, while you do irritate him, he does respect you for being quiet about that, and because of that and his relationship with Victor, he will protect you within his personal reasons.

All-in-all: you've got friends, and you've got acquaintances, but they'll always stick up for you (excluding Patrick, who will stick up for you when it benefits him, so... yeah). Have fun with them!

[writingonleaves]

like you were my closest friend - tyler seguin

pairing: tyler seguin x original female character

warnings: swearing, some angst, mostly fluff

word count: 4.1k

based on: "maroon" by taylor swift, title from that song as well

author's note: okay this isn't my favorite one because i think it's a bit rushed, but i thought i'd put it out anyways. would very much like to emphasize that this is fictional and i'm rooting for segs and his hot wife!! im a sucker for right person wrong time vibes and shit happening at weddings so here's a combo of that! also maroon is so seggy coded and you can't tell me otherwise

*****

Carmen Valez was 19 and stupid when she first met Tyler Seguin.

Working at a tattoo shop to make extra money while trying to put herself through college, she was cleaning up from her boss’s last scheduled appointment of the night when in came a group of rowdy guys. It wasn’t the first time a group of drunk guys came in looking for a tattoo. She had listened as her boss Ken came out and did his spiel and she heard laughter and some agreements so they couldn’t have been that drunk because her boss would’ve put up more of a fight.

When she first saw Tyler, she recognized him immediately. Growing up in Boston in a family of hockey lovers, how could she not recognize the rookie who had just won the Stanley Cup? As she turned the corner even more, she saw Brad Marchand and all she could think about was that she couldn't wait to tell her brothers and dad about this. 

Ken introduced her to the guys and asked her if she could set up some things. She waved in greeting and nodded, going in the back to gather the supplies needed. She tried to stifle a yawn as she re-sterilized the needles, but it didn’t work.

“Long night?”

She whipped around to see Tyler peeking in behind a curtain. “Are you looking for something?”

“The bathroom. But I think I found something much better.”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “Go to the end of the hall and it’s on your right.”

“Thanks,” he tilted his head to the side. “Are you the one who drew those flower designs that are hanging up in the hall?”

“I am. Ken asked me to draw some things so the shop wasn’t only filled with his designs.”

“You tattoo as well?”

“Oh, no way. That’s all Ken.” She shrugged. “I’ve designed some, but never physically tattooed them on someone. My hands are too shaky.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He hummed and then went on his way to the bathroom as she finished gathering the supplies and went outside with them. 

Ken became the guy Tyler kept coming back to for his tattoos so she got to know him and despite his reputation as a partier and womanizer, she found him endearing, often making conversation with him during his longer sessions while Ken was working on him on the table and she was doing schoolwork or doodling in the front. 

It was a weird friendship because Tyler was rarely stationary in Boston and Carmen was attending Northeastern University and they really didn’t mix in any of the same circles but they kept coming back to each other. Their friendship developed to the point where he would come by on his nights off to her off-campus apartment with takeout and they would flick on a movie. He told her about his insecurities of having such a fantastic rookie year and then never amounting to anything else and she told him about her confusions of what she actually wanted to do with her communications degree. He talked about how hooking up with girls was easier than seeing if someone was only using him for his image and she talked about her view on relationships and how long distance never works. 

He would invite her to games and she’d come along sometimes, dragging her best friend along with her to TD Garden. She knew all about his lifestyle and how he’d hook up with girls left and right but when she was with him, she always only saw a 20 something year old boy who was thrust into stardom really quickly and who was fucking up like anybody else his age but being overly criticized for it because of his job. She didn’t really see him as anything more than a friend, truly. She could admit easily that he was objectively attractive and probably too charming for his own good, but she saw him as one of her dearest friends more than anything. 

(Even if she had the slightest feeling that she wanted to be more during those years, heart fluttering when he texted her to make sure she got home safe after late nights or winking at her and throwing her a puck at one of his games, causing her to grin like a middle school girl with a crush, she always pushed it away)

So when she was in the Cape celebrating the Fourth and news broke out that the Bruins had traded him to Dallas, she felt her heart drop. She ventured to a quieter area away from the celebrations and dialed his number. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to talk, but she couldn’t not call him to see if he was okay. 

From the sniffling on his end, despite what he said, she knew he wasn’t okay, and told him that when she was back in the city, she’d come around to his place with food, wine and hugs. 

The next week, when he opened the door, she dropped everything and just embraced him, holding him for several minutes as she tried to keep her tears in. She pulled away and just apologized for bringing some cheap rose that her roommate left at her apartment a couple of months ago instead of an actual nice bottle and he just laughed. She set up food from their favorite takeout place and they automatically went through all of these motions but with a sad feeling in the air. This night was going to be the last one of these, before he went back home the following weekend to Canada to spend the rest of his off season there and then head to Dallas. His apartment was already bare, having gotten started on moving out as soon as he had gotten the call.

She tried so, so hard not to cry as they put on Great British Bake Off and talked and somehow they started reflecting on numerous random moments and memories they had shared the last three years and they were both laughing as he complained about her almost spilling her wine like usual and she just threw her napkin at him. For the first time, he’s the one who splashed his wine on her t-shirt and he hiccuped and apologized and offered a shirt for her to change into and she waved him off, a blush on her cheeks either from the alcohol or from his proximity or both.

At one point, they ended up on the floor cuddling with his dogs and he asked how they even ended up there and she snorted, referencing the two bottles of rose they had downed and he had snorted and flashed her a stunning smile and her heart cracked a bit more. 

They were both dozing off on the couch — his arm thrown over her as she cuddled into his chest because they both had always been touchy when they were drunk — when he said something that would forever plague her memory. 

“I should’ve asked you to be mine.”

She blinked and shot up, looking down at him. “What?”

“I-I should’ve just asked you on a date. You could’ve been mine this whole time.”

“Tyler. You can’t say shit like that if you don’t mean it.”

“What makes you think I don’t mean it, Car?” He shot back, sitting up. “I know I’m drunk and I know I’m about to leave this city and maybe never see you again but of course I mean it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears fell. “Tyler.”

“I don’t regret a single moment of our friendship. I just regret that I never told you how I felt until it was too late.”

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Stop trying to discount my words because I’m drunk,” he said sternly. “I love you as a friend, of course, but I-I love you as more too. For awhile now, I think. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same and again, I’m the dumbest guy alive for bringing this up tonight of all nights but I just…I had to tell you before I left.”

She put her head in her heads and started crying softly. “I love you too,” she admitted through her tears. “I-I just never said anything because I didn’t think you were looking for more. Jesus, I literally know two of the girls you’ve hooked up with the past year. Do you know how annoying and gross it is to hear about your performance in bed while I’m trying to cram last minute for an exam?”

He chuckled and she looked at him again and saw that there were tears running down his cheeks as well. “We’re both stupid, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

He looked up at the ceiling with quivering lips. “I’m not going to ask you for more, no matter how much I want to.”

She nodded vehemently and cupped his face with both her hands, wanting so bad to kiss his lips and using every part of her strength not to. “You’re going to be amazing in Dallas.” She brushed a falling tear and tried to give him a reassuring smile as his top lip quivered. “You’re going to become a lover of the heat and look amazing in green and start liking country music and I’m going to make fun of you for all of it.”

“But you’re not gonna be there.”

She swallowed with a small shrug. “Who knows? Maybe a job in Dallas will open up after I graduate.”

“You wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t let you. Your heart belongs to the Northeast.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she weakly protested, slapping his arm and making him chuckle.

But he was right. And she hated that he was right.

She watched his eyes flit to her lips and she hoped that he was also fighting the urge as he placed a kiss on her forehead, which somehow was probably worse than if he had just kissed her. 

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He said, voice cracking at the edges. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, not being able to say it back because she didn’t want to completely break down. “Let’s get some sleep.”

That last night, they fell asleep on the couch like they had done numerous times before and he sent her off in the morning like he had done numerous times before, except this time she held onto him as tight as she could. Maybe if she kept hugging him, he wouldn’t have to go. 

But he had to. And he did. 

Carmen Valez was 22 when she saw Tyler Seguin again. 

After graduation, she had gotten a job in New York, and he was in town playing the Rangers. They had gone out to dinner and then to a bar for drinks and things fell back into place as they leaned in close to each other the whole night and she kissed him, bringing him back to her apartment. She woke up with marks on her collarbone and memories of his lips all over her body and cursed herself as she watched him peacefully sleep next to her because she was still in love with him. 

He had woken up with a soft but sad smile. “Has your view on long distance relationships changed?”

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

He swallowed. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault you’re the easiest person to fall in love with. Can I ask one thing though?”

“Of course.”

“If your view does change, give me a call?”

“Tyler-”

“I’m serious. Whether it’s 10 days or 10 years from now, call me.”

A tear had slipped out from her eyes when he pulled her into his chest, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

Carmen Valez was 27 when she realized her view on long distance changed. And the first person she thought of was Tyler Seguin. 

They had kept in touch very sporadically throughout the years over text and had tried to meet up everytime he came to New York to play, but the contact became less and less as the years went on. She tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. She had no right to be hurt. He could live his life however he wanted.

She was going down to Dallas for one of her coworker’s weddings and was tempted to call Tyler to see if he was around — for the first time, she’d be where he was instead of the other way around — but she didn’t bother because it was the off season and she figured he was home in Canada. 

As she walked into the venue, she was shocked to see Tyler speaking to the bride’s grandma. She couldn’t help but smile at how gentle he was, soft smile on his face as he tucked the grandma’s hand into the crook of his elbow while leading her to her seat. He looked so handsome in his gray suit.

Gosh, he’s changed since they met in that tattoo parlor in Boston. They both have. But something about his smile makes her realize that almost nothing has changed at all.

When he sees her, she swears he lights up and her stomach flutters. She notices quickly that he’s a groomsman, if his matching suit with a couple of the other ushers indicates anything. He strolls up to her with his signature charming smile and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“Funny seeing you here.”

She scoffs, before stepping forward and hugging him tightly. “Hey Ty.”

“Hi Car.” He turns to her coworker with a stunning smile. “And hello Car’s friend. I’m Tyler. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Samantha. How do you two know each other?”

She exchanges a look with him, because it’s a long story. But she settles with, “Ran into him when he played in Boston and I went to college there, and he didn’t leave me alone.” The three of them laugh. 

“I’m assuming you both are here for the bride?”

“We are.”

He offers an arm to the both of them. “Follow me, ladies.” Carmen can tell Samantha is charmed as she rolls her eyes but grabs the crook of his elbow anyways.

After he escorts them to their seats, he has to bolt and just bids them farewell with a kiss on Carmen’s cheek and a promise to save her a dance later before ducking out of the church, presumably to help out with some behind the scenes stuff. 

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Samantha gives her a skeptical look. “We’ve been working together for two years and you failed to tell me that you know Tyler Seguin? You know I grew up a Stars fan.”

“It’s never come up.”

“Fair.” She blinks, looking for something in her coworker’s face. “You love him, don’t you?”

“What? No, of course-”

“Nice try. If your heart eyes hadn’t given you away, it was your response just now. You’ve always been a bad liar. What’s the story between you two?”

She sighs, staring at the front of the church at nothing in particular. “We met when I worked at a tattoo parlor in college and he came in and we became really good friends. He got traded to Dallas and then told me loved me on his last night in the city. Knew I didn’t believe in long distance at the time so didn’t ask for more. We slept together around a year later. My stance on long distance hadn’t changed. We’ve seen each other sporadically when I’m free and he’s in New York for a game, but not much recently.”

Samantha whistles. “Sounds like a lot.”

Carmen just snorts. She has no idea. 

“So you still love him.” 

Carmen just sighs. 

“I think he still might love you too.”

Carmen snorts, smoothing down her dress. “How could you possibly know that? You met him for maybe two minutes.”

“Maybe it’s the fact that we’re at a wedding and this could be a scene from a Hallmark movie, but I’m also pretty sure he also had heart eyes when he saw you.”

Carmen just hums, and Samantha drops it, as they shift to other safer topics. 

The ceremony is stunning and the bride is gorgeous and the groom is beaming, yet besides when the bride walked down the aisle, she can’t tear her eyes away from Tyler, standing at the front with a constant happy look on his face. As he walked down with an accompanying bridesmaid on his arm, he caught her eye and shot her a sly wink and she knows she blushed and she didn’t even try to hide it. 

The next time she caught him was well into the reception, after dinner had been eaten and the dance floor was starting to open up. She had just finished her drink before she felt a tap on her shoulder, looking up to see Tyler with an outstretched hand. 

“Dance with me?”

Without giving a verbal answer, she takes his hand and lets him lead her to the dance floor. She wraps her arms around his neck as his hands settle on her waist.

“You didn’t reach out to tell me you were gonna be in town.”

“I figured you’d be in Canada for the off-season.”

He hums, but he doesn’t buy the excuse. To be fair, she doesn’t either. “It’s really good to see you, Car.” He says, and she might be imagining him pulling her closer. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you.” 

He smirks and she feels like she’s 19 again. “I look beautiful?”

She rolls her eyes. “You do.” She says softly. “How have you been?”

And then they start catching up, and it’s so damn easy, as the conversation flows from hockey to her advertising job to their memories in Boston to their mutual friends who just got married to their families and it feels like he’s still on the Bruins and she’s still at Northeastern. At some point, they migrate from the dance floor to the empty-ish open bar and they’re still talking and she realizes how much she’s missed having him in his life. 

When she voices that out loud, his beaming smile dims the slightest. “God, I’ve missed you so much. Is this what I’ve been missing out on?”

“Don’t even start, Seguin.”

“What?”

“Blaming yourself or whatever you’re about to do. If we’re gonna blame someone, it’s all on me.”

Their first seconds of silence fall between them. “How has that been, by the way? You got a lucky guy back in New York waiting for you?”

She snorts. “Absolutely not. You? I hope I didn’t steal you away from a date or something.”

“Nah. No one for me.”

“Not at all?”

“None who have meant as much to me as you.”

She feels like her heart’s been sucker punched. Typical Tyler Seguin. Always going in for the kill. 

She switches topics. “I-I watched your Stanley Cup playoff run. You played really well. I’m sorry it wasn’t the result you guys wanted.”

“You watch my games?”

She swallows. Busted. “I try to whenever I can, even though I still feel like I’m betraying my Bruins when I do.”

He laughs, still a bit shocked. “I’m sure they’d forgive you. I was a Bruin, after all.”

She downs her drink and asks the bartender for a water. “I missed you,” she says quietly once the bartender is out of earshot. “And I always loved watching you play. Figured it was the next best thing.”

“You could’ve called. Or texted. I would’ve answered.”

She shakes her head. “That would’ve been unfair to you, especially with how I left things off.”

He chuckles, albeit sadly. “Carmen. I’m kinda weak when it comes to you. Always have been.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, a tear falling as she feels Tyler place a warm hand on her thigh over her maroon dress. “You give me way too much power.”

“I don’t think I could ever give you what you deserve, no matter how hard I try.”

Carmen wipes the tear away with a small smile. She pokes his chest. “How do you come up with this shit?”

He laughs, taking a sip of his beer, before his face settles into a more serious expression. “Can I ask you two questions, though? No bullshit. Just the truth.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Do you still love me?”

She nods at an embarrassingly fast pace.

He swallows. “Oh.”

She picks at her nails, suddenly unsure. “D-Do you still love me? It’s-it’s totally okay if you don’t. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to. It’s been years and we don’t really see each other much anymore and-”

“Of course I still love you.” She whips her head up to stare at him in shock. He runs a hand through his hair with a huff. 

She puts her hand over his that’s still resting on his thigh and interlaces their fingers together. “What’s your second question?”

“Do you still not believe in long distance?”

“I’ve been thinking…I think I’m open to trying it.”

His eyes flash in surprise as his lips turn up into a hopeful smile. “Really? You’re not fucking with me?”

“Since when have I ever lied to you, Ty?”

“Can I have a third question? And maybe a fourth?”

She rolls her eyes fondly, squealing a bit as he brings her stool even closer to him. “Was that it?”

“Smartass.” She nods at him to ask. “Would you want to try? With me?”

She swallows. “Yes.” She thinks he physically lights up, like a lightbulb with a new battery, but she holds a hand up. “But Tyler, things have changed. We’ve changed. Is this…is this really what you want? Am I really who you want?”

“I left Boston eight years ago in love with you. Here I am, eight years later in Dallas, still in love with you. Probably more in love with you, actually, which I didn’t think was possible.” He grabs her hands and lifts them to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “When do you head back to New York?”

She blinks at the abrupt change of subject. “Um, I’m actually in Dallas for another week for a work conference. So not until next Sunday.”

He grins. “Stay at mine then. Please.”

“Tyler-”

“I’ll have to head back to Canada for a couple weeks for things I can’t reschedule, but then, if you let me, I’d love to come to New York and spend some time with you until I have to come back to Dallas for pre-season.”

“Tyler, that’s…how are you so confident and sure about all of this?”

“Because it’s you,” he says. “And I love you. I’m not wasting this chance that you’ve given me.”

She bites her lip, trying to take it all in. “I’m going to need to grab my stuff from the hotel tonight.”

“Deal. I’ve only had like, two beers in the last three hours anyways. I can drive you.”

“You know that I’m not just going to…drop everything to come to Dallas, right? My job and my life is all in New York.”

“I’d be a dumbass to expect that. Your heart belongs to the Northeast.”

She smiles, momentarily flashing back to the last time he said those exact same words and how similar and different they are now. She leans forward and kisses him sweetly, like he’s coming home from a game, like she’s in the middle of cooking dinner, like they’ve been doing this all their lives. She then pulls him up and drags him back to the dance floor. 

“Would you have called me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers into his chest, immediately knowing what he’s referencing. Eight years later and she still remembers that night like it was yesterday. “What if you were in a relationship or something? That would’ve been unfair to everyone.”

“I wouldn’t have been.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Because I’ve always loved you. At this point, I’m pretty sure that I always will.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. And as he presses a loving kiss on her forehead, she hopes he understands what she’s trying to thank him for — for coming into that tattoo shop all those years ago, for all the nights and memories in Boston that involved takeout and Netflix and endless fits of laughter, for always believing in her, for waiting for her and being understanding even when she broke his heart. 

For loving her.

“By the way,” Tyler says as he twirls her around, hands immediately attaching to her waist once she’s facing him again. “I always loved you in maroon.”

[s4hfeia]

sometimes i just sit in my room and stare out the window, wondering if thats all there is. my seventeen year old sisters been drawing and sketching since she was little. its like she got this magic ability to capture every tiny memory, every emotion shes feeling, and turn it into something beautiful on paper. i swear to god, the talent that girl has is out of this world and believe me i love her from all my heart, i really do, but i cant help but feel jealous. jealous that she found her thing, jealous, that she can have something to hold onto, something to do to feel alive when every thing else feels like its spinning out of control.

but me? im just sitting in my room, existing.

every day feels the same. i wake up, go to school, act like im interested in things i have no idea about, come back home, watch tv, and go to sleep. its like im floating around, without any idea in what direction to go. i just wish i had that too. a passion, or a purpose, even. something that makes me feel like im not just drifting away, wasting time. i need to find my spark, have something that makes me excited to wake up in the morning, but im scared i never will. and i dont know how to handle the idea that maybe there is nothing special waiting for me.

at first, i tried to tell myself that thats okay, i mean, everyone moves at their own pace, right? but no, seriously, im really scared. im scared that i wake up one day and realise that i spent my whole life waiting for something thatll never come. maybe its silly worrying about this right now, but its so hard not to when everyone always keeps asking me what i want to do, who i want to be, where i see myself in the future. how am i supposed to have those answers when i dont even know something as simple as my favourite color?

when i told my sissy about this she said that theres still time to figure it out, but it doesnt feel like that when everyone around you seems to have it all together. i keep hoping that one day, ill just know. itll all make sense and ill fing my thing. but until then, ill be sitting in my room, staring out the window, wondering if this is all there is.