#i’ve never been the same since i read this

[ribbonskiss]

THE LEANOVER -> OP81

Part 1 of 2. Read Part 2 here.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: You come home on uni break to find your brother’s best friend, Oscar, is visiting. You both fall back into old habits, but some things are not the same.

Tags: brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, slow burn? kinda?, fluff, suggestive content (18+), very gentle reading tbh

A/N: Here it is finally, the highly requested full length version of the drabble I posted. Sadly I’ve reached my limit of dividers for this one and have to split it into two parts :( Very funny that it took off so much because it was honestly just a warm up for writing 😭 Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait, enjoy <3

“You’ve gotten soft, kiddo.”

He leans against the doorframe, that same mischievous smile on his face as he watches you do the dishes.

“Well,” you say, rinsing a cup over the running faucet, “Some of us have to.”

Oscar quirks up an eyebrow, arms folding over his chest. “Really? Fascinating. I had no idea.”

“And some things never change, I see,” you chuckle.

It’s December, and you’re home for the first time since moving away for university. It’s been an eventful year, one that’s brought about many successes, mistakes and surprises. Your mother marvels at how much you’ve grown; you’ve ditched the old frumpy haircut, started slouching less and finally found the perfect shade of lipstick. Your father is just glad you’ve managed to achieve a pretty impressive grade average.

When Oscar arrived, he caused so much commotion you had to stumble down the stairs to see what all the fuss is about. His presence was a surprise, but a welcome one. He was always your mum’s favourite—you remember the day he set off two years ago to pursue Formula One full-time. She cried as if he was her own kid. (Your brother stayed in Melbourne, so it’s dubious whether or not she would’ve cried harder if he moved away. For what it’s worth, when you went off to ANU yourself, she cried about the same amount.) Always a charmer, he came bearing big bags of gifts for everyone, and your family gathered around him like bees to honey.

He pulled your brother in for a hug. They’re too close to just settle for a dap-up after another year apart. “Looking good, mate,” your brother chuckled. “Look at this guy. Dapper, eh?”

“Says you, man, look at yourself,” Oscar laughed, throwing his head back in delight before patting him roughly on the back. “Fucking hell, you finally filled your beard in.”

From a distance, you smiled, watching as they started to roughhouse, laughing as they wrestled and wrung one another. Eventually your brother released him from his headlock, throwing him out of his grip, and Oscar ruffled his hair back into place before turning and spotting you, standing at the staircase.

He smiled at you fondly. You’d forgotten how nice it feels to be the recipient of it. He’d forgotten how he can recognise what every expression you make means.

You’ve grown a lot. Maybe not physically, but definitely mentally. He never had a problem with you before, far from it, but he likes this new you a lot—more graceful, tactful, a skilled conversationalist eager to help out whenever. Not to mention he didn’t even realise you could grow even more beautiful. Well, you’ve managed it somehow.

Now dinner is over and he’s still standing there, watching as you shut the dishwasher close. “Just can’t be fucked,” you sigh with relief. “Too many fuckin’ dishes.”

He comes closer, ruffles your hair with a hand while the other wraps around your waist, pulling you to him. The action is familiar, but the feeling that arises in you from it is not. “Well, you used to just not do them at all, so,” he reminds you. “This is a big improvement, Tiny.”

You flush. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“I remember everything,” Oscar smiles at you. “Why would I forget anything?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “it’s normal to forget the little things.”

But his smile never falters. “They’re not little to me.”

“Well fuck, you’ve put me in a difficult position.”

The two boys you’ve known your whole life stand in front of you in the living room, where you’re sitting on the couch, legs sprawled over its full length, reading your book. Your brother sighs. “I just wish you’d told me beforehand, like, I know you wanted it to be a surprise but,” he continues. “If you told me you were coming, I wouldn’t have booked the trip—”

Oscar shakes his head. “Nah, don’t sweat it, come on,” he says. “It’s fine. Either way I’m back home, I can catch up with some guys from school, and your folks are lovely to me.”

Your brother starts up again, but Oscar puts his hands up. “Mate, really, it’s fine. I’ll be right on my own.”

“Say swear?”

“On my life,” he nods. “You just enjoy Bali with your missus.”

Your brother looks at him for a moment, shakes his head and smiles. He nudges him on the shoulder. “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”

“What, that little thing?” Oscar smiles, turning to look over where you sit on the couch. “She’ll be right. I got her.”

They talk for a little longer before one of them bids the other goodnight, retreating into his room. Oscar stays, looks at you for a moment as you pretend to not notice, eyes scanning over the pages of your book like your life depends on not looking back at him. He runs his fingers through his hair, lets out a breath before he comes closer.

“Looks like it’ll just be you and me this holiday season, Tiny.” No one calls you that except Oscar. He stands in front of you, towering over your sitting figure. You can’t find the bravery to look up at him, but you just know he’s smiling again.

You flip to the next page. “Where’s your family?”

“Off to the Alps,” he shrugs. “But I’ve just been last year with a few guys.”

“How convenient,” you comment, earning a chuckle from him. Oscar nods his head, smiling still, unashamed.

“Very convenient.”

“Good morning, sleepy.”

You stand in the kitchen, rubbing your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper where the counter is. He brushes past you to the coffee machine, and you feel his warmth close by for a split second. “Don’t do that,” he tuts at you, chuckling at your sleepy state. “It’s bad for your eyes.”

“Is he awake yet?” you ask, and your voice is still hushed, soft from slumber.

“No,” he says. “But I’m making coffee anyway. He’s a bit of a cunt in the morning.”

You suddenly remember that he’s sleeping on the spare mattress, very inelegantly smack dab in the middle of the floor in your brother’s room. You can’t help but snicker. “You know him too well. You’re like an old married couple,” you tease him. “Aren’t you too old to be doing sleepovers still?”

“Aren’t you too old to be reading your porny little novels on a Friday evening?” he retorts. You feel yourself flush almost immediately, the blood rushing to your cheeks as embarrassment overwhelms you, knowing you’ve been caught. Oscar glances over at you from where he stands, pouring out cold milk while the espresso shots continue to drip into his mug, and he chuckles.

“I’m right, no?” he continues. “You’re all grown up now, Tiny. My question is, why stay in? Why read about fucking a soccer player when you could just, you know, actually do it?”

You glare at him, but the sight of him this early in the morning with his soft sleepy smile and tousled bedhead hair makes you falter a little. “That’s not even a book I own.”

“I know that,” Oscar nods, holding the little pitcher to the steam wand, gently frothing the cold milk inside. “But I have seen one on your desk. Think it was about another sport, actually.”

Then the frothing stops, and he pours the milk foam into the mug slowly, carefully. He snickers. “It was about racing, wasn’t it?”

Your cheeks grow hot, hotter than you thought was possible, and your eyes drop immediately to the ground at his words. It amuses him to no end. He hands you the mug; it’s a latte, with a cute little heart on top of it. Now he’s just being cruel.

You take a sip of the searing hot coffee immediately just to avoid having to speak about this topic any further. “This tastes like shit.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and grins. “You’re welcome, love.”

“Can you even speak to me this way?”

“What way?” Oscar says, cocking up an eyebrow again. “You’re a big girl now. What, you can read about sex but you can’t talk about it—”

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper-yell, shushing him in a panicked tone, but he can barely take you seriously, chest rumbling with soft laughter.

“Alright,” he nods. “If it’ll please you, Tiny, I’ll do it.”

Then he leaves the kitchen, retreats into your brother’s room and starts yelling at him to wake up. You’re left on your own to figure out why he put so much emphasis on the word please.

“You’re leaving?”

Alright, now it’s getting fucking ridiculous. You’re sat in the back of your dad’s car after sending your brother and his girlfriend off to the airport, absolutely flabbergasted by what your parents have just said.

“You’re leaving me alone for two weeks,” you continue. “Since when? How long has this been in the works? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“God, no, it’s not like that,” your mum sighs, turning to you from where she sits in the passenger’s seat. “They invited us to their beach house in the Central Coast a month ago. We said no because we knew you were coming but, with Oscar here now… Why not?”

“We just thought it would be nice to have some time to ourselves,” your father continues, eyes still on the road. “With our friends. And you’re on break for ages! We’ll only be gone for two weeks.”

“You’re an adult now,” your mother smiles hesitantly. “And with Oscar… Well, I honestly trust him more than your own brother to take good care of you.”

Oscar is touched, but you’re less than satisfied by all this still. “I’m sorry, honey,” your mum starts again, but you shake your head.

“No, no, I get it, it’s fine,” you say, waving off her concerns. “I just wish I had a heads up, but I get it.”

Looking out the window now, you feel Oscar place a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and warm, wordlessly assuring you things will be okay. He means well, but it worsens your worries. Your stomach feels strange. Now you can’t escape how you feel.

You look out the window, waiting for the bread slices in the toaster to pop out. In the back garden, Oscar is dutifully watering the plants blooming around the wooden benches and table where your parents like to host barbecues. (It’s one of the many tasks listed in the list of chores your mum left the two of you.) He takes careful steps, acutely aware of the blossoming flowers near his feet, and slips his gloves off where the shelf with all the necessary gear is.

He calls out to you, nudging the watering can with his foot to where it should be. “Smells good in there.”

“Almost done now,” you call out back to him, turning back to the kitchen counter where two dishes are lined with omelettes and chorizo sausages. When the slices pop out, you smear smashed avocado all over one side of them. When he finally comes through the back door, you’re finishing the already-salted avocado toast off by grinding up some pepper. Oscar stands behind you, watching as you do it.

“Looks amazing, too,” he chuckles. “Or maybe I’m just real hungry.”

“I think you’re just real hungry,” you say. “What took you so long?”

He shrugs, taking both plates from the counter to the dinner table. “Your dad’s tool shelf is weird as fuck.”

You don’t question it; he’s probably right, your dad is weird as fuck in general, so you just take knives and forks to the table. “Dig in,” you tell him, placing a fork down where he’s sat. He turns his head to look up at you, smiling.

“Thank you,” he says, softly, and Oscar’s looking at you with genuine delight. You turn away. Your chest is tightening. You go to sit where he’s put the other dish, and he watches as you take a small bite of your toast.

“So,” he starts up again. “They’re all gone. It’s just the two of us. Should we throw a rager?”

You chuckle at his words, and he beams, eager to make you laugh. “Yeah,” he nods, smiling gently again. “Wasn’t feeling like it either.”

“We don’t really have to do anything today,” you say, chewing on your food. “We’ve still got a whole two weeks ahead of us.”

“That’s true,” Oscar hums. “Well…”

You look up from your plate, giving him a curious look. “Well?”

“Well,” he continues, “I just haven’t had a chance to say—well, I’ve just wanted to say… It’s nice to see you again. You’ve grown a lot. You look good. Really good.”

You must be bright brick red in the face now. “Thank you,” you mumble back, and when you both finish your food he helps you load the dishes into the dishwasher before vacuuming the living room, ticking off another thing on the list.

“Tiny, I’m sure you look amazing,” he says from the other side of the door. “Can you please come out now?”

You look at yourself in the mirror, huffing. “No.”

Oscar frowns to himself. “Well, can I at least come in?”

“No!” you exclaim, the thought of him seeing all the clothes tossed onto your bed embarrassing you too much to even consider opening the door.

“You’re not naked in there, are you—”

“Oh my god, Osc, no.”

“We’ll miss the whole thing at this point, we’re late as is,” he tries to reason with you. “Please, Tiny, I could help you.”

“Yeah, because you’re so fashionable. I can’t just throw a linen shirt and beige shorts on like you do.”

You hear him snicker from outside. “Mee-ow. Touché.”

Sighing, you come closer to your door. “Just,” you say. “Don’t be cruel, okay?”

Oscar leans his head against the door. “Of course,” he mutters quickly. “I mean, obviously. Yeah.”

With another big huff, you unlock the door, and his eyes widen at the sight of you in a dress, soft blush pink silk hugging to your curves all the way down to your ankles. The thin straps leave little to the imagination, your collarbones and shoulders exposed to the sunlight filtering through your curtains. Oscar wonders how soft your skin must be, supple arms smoothing over your waist.

“I don’t know if I feel good in this,” you say, and his eyes dart back to your face, wincing in worry. “I don’t know if I necessarily have the body—”

“You look fantastic.”

You turn around to face him. He’s standing behind you, a little flushed as his eyes rake over your figure again. “You look great, I mean,” Oscar says. “Just… bring a cardigan.”

You chuckle. “It’s the middle of summer—”

“It could get cold at night.”

There’s a bite in his voice that makes you shiver, especially as you turn back around to face your mirror and he comes closer, towering over you.

“Who knows how long we’ll be out for.”

The Christmas market stays open until late. It doesn’t get dark by the evening hours in the summer, so you never slip on the cardigan. Instead, Oscar insists on having his arm around your shoulders the entire time, leading to more than one stall owner mistaking you for a couple. The commotion makes you blush every time.

“What are you so embarrassed about?” he chuckles. The two of you meander through the paths of the market, barely taking note of any of the stalls at this point. “People used to mistake us for a couple all the time in school.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nuh uh,” you retort. “They thought we were siblings.”

Oscar gags. “What? Christ, no.”

“Exactly,” you chuckle. “Or they thought we were cousins.”

He looks at you, cocks his head to the side curiously. “Well, what’d you tell them?”

You shrug honestly. “I don’t know. I told them you’re my Oscar,” you say, and your answer makes him laugh softly.

“And what exactly does that mean?” He prods.

“Well, there’s no other way to put it.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “We’re not friends?”

Well, I hope not, you think. “You’re my brother’s friend,” you say. “And I think even he detests you sometimes.”

Now you’re approaching where the crowds are down the street. As you slip through the mass of people, the heat starts to rise even more in temperature, making his skin stick to yours in the humidity as he holds you close still.

“But we’re close,” you nod. “Not friends, not family. Just… My Oscar.”

He chuckles. “Your Oscar?”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes, though the heat starts to get to your cheeks now. “Yes. My Oscar.”

Well, he likes the sound of that. It’s very intimate, he thinks. And he definitely likes that. “You know,” you continue as you finally escape the crowd, walking down the street and away from the market now. “They never stopped asking me.”

“Asking what?”

“About whether or not you were single,” you giggle.

Oscar sighs dramatically, halting to a stop as he shakes his head in great disappointment, making you laugh even harder. As the years went by, Oscar’s racing aspirations became more and more apparent to the student population, propelling him to celebrity status at school. It’s funny; the more lenient his schooling arrangements became, the less he showed up at school, and rumours started spreading, making him a sort of mythical figure that would drive girls wild whenever he did show up to class.

“You know I always fucking hated that,” he grumbles to you, eyes narrowing. “Fuckin’ hate how they treated you—I mean, you’re not my guard dog, you’re a human being.”

“It’s not that serious,” you snicker. “Schoolgirls are schoolgirls. You were a heartthrob, you know?”

Oscar lets out a hesitant chuckle. “Not by choice. I didn’t have time for girls,” he says, turning the corner towards the train station. “Well. Maybe just the one.”

“Oh?” you laugh. “How did I not know about this? Who was it?”

He smiles, turns to look at your curious face, and ruffles your hair like he always does. “The tiniest girl I’ve ever known.”

But you’re not that girl anymore. Later that night he knocks on your own door just before bedtime; you tell him to come in, and when he does, you’re standing in front of your mirror, clipping your hair back. In the sweltering heat of Australian December, your choice of pajamas is a camisole that wraps loosely around your bare chest, the shape of which is too apparent for him to not flush, and heather grey shorts that are dangerously short. It is now that Oscar realises that the tiny little girl he used to play wrestle with as a child really is, as he had told you before, all grown up now. When you turn around, smiling so sweetly and innocently and wishing him a good night’s sleep, he dryly swallows and silently nods, closing the door when you wave goodbye. If he didn’t leave right that minute he would’ve put his hands all over you, feeling that soft skin he’s been wondering about all day.

It’s not that that girl you were or the boy in him has vanished. But now you have both come to a situation where a certain passion shows its naked face, and that girl and that boy can now see the true spirit of the relationship they share, and it was there all along. Oscar sleeps scarcely that night, stirring in your brother’s bed in a cold sweat as his mind replays the images of your figure standing in front of your mirror, blissfully unaware of how gorgeous you have always been in his eyes. The ultimate standard of the perfect girl in his mind. What a pleasant affliction this is, a small price to pay for his heart to blossom.

He ignores the tent in his boxers and shuts his eyes. Your brother’s going to kill him.

Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Questions? Leave them all in my askbox, and sorry for any mistakes/typos!

[deliciousangelfestival]

Let's Play Pretend - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x singer! Female reader

Summary: You just wanted to hide here and find peace from the mess that wasn’t caused by you. But then, your hot neighbor bothered you. As if that wasn’t enough, the enemies you hated found you too.

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Shocking Split! Y/N L/N Dumps Fiancé After Drug Party Scandal

Betrayal Drama! Y/N L/N’s Manager Caught Stealing Millions for Gambling

Where’s Y/N? The Singer Vanishes Amid Scandals!

“I’ve always wanted to be a singer, but I never had the confidence to stand on a stage—until my music teacher, Mrs. Walls. She believed in me.”

Mrs. Walls sighed as she watched your Grammy interview on TV. You looked radiant, glowing with excitement after winning such a prestigious award. As a music teacher with years of experience, she had worked with many talented students, but you stood out uniquely.

At first, you were the shyest student in her class, hardly speaking above a whisper. But what surprised her the most was your natural gift: a perfect pitch. You could write down the notes to a song after hearing it just once, and you picked up musical instruments with ease. She vividly remembered showing you basic piano chords; within minutes, you were playing along effortlessly. The same thing happened when she introduced the guitar.

Her fondest memories were of you standing shyly at the front of the class, yet lighting up when it came to music. She smiled as she recalled your speeches at award shows: “I wouldn’t be here without my music teacher, Mrs. Walls. She was the first person who put faith in me.”

“That’s the last interview she gave us,” the gossip channel host said dramatically, feigning concern. “It’s been three months since anyone’s seen her. Where is Y/N L/N?”

Mrs. Walls frowned and turned off the TV with an annoyed grunt. “Urgh. Gossip vultures,” she muttered under her breath. She grabbed a glass of lemonade from the fridge and walked out to her garden. She noticed her guest seemed lost in thought, staring off into the distance. It had become a habit whenever she was in the garden.

“You’re not thirsty, huh?” she teased lightly, holding the glass toward someone sitting under the garden umbrella.

The person she handed the drink to was none other than the missing singer, Y/N L/N. For three months, the paparazzi had been on your trail, but they had no idea you were hiding here—in the sanctuary of your former music teacher’s home.

Mrs. Walls still remembered the night you appeared on her doorstep, mascara streaked down your face, eyes red and swollen from crying. You looked nothing like the glamorous star she’d seen on television, but instead like a lost child searching for safety.

“I don’t know where else to go,” you had whispered, your voice trembling.

In that moment, she didn’t see the world-renowned singer. She saw the shy, seven-year-old girl who used to sit in her classroom, clutching her music notebook like a lifeline. She hugged you tightly, her heart breaking for you. “Stay as long as you need, my dear,” she had said softly, ushering you inside.

Since that night, you’d been living quietly in her guest room. The once-vibrant star barely spoke, and the silence worried Mrs. Walls more than she let on. She watched as you avoided stepping outside, terrified of being recognized. The only place you seemed at peace was her garden.

She wondered, How long will you keep hiding like this?

You took the lemonade from her hand with a quiet “Thank you” but set it on the small table beside you without taking a sip. Sitting on the bench, you leaned back, tilting your face up toward the sky. The sun was warm, filtering through the leaves of the garden trees. Through your Ray-Ban sunglasses, you watched the golden rays dance, letting them calm your stormy thoughts.

Here, in this little haven, you could pretend the outside world didn’t exist. The judging eyes, the betrayals, the relentless cameras—everything melted away in the sunlight.

You thought back to three months ago, just after wrapping up your world tour. It had been the most significant milestone in your career, a dream come true. Exhausted but proud, you returned home, excited to move on to the next chapter of your life—starting a family with your fiancé.

But the moment you landed, things began to unravel. You’d called your fiancé multiple times, but he didn’t answer. At first, you thought he was busy, but a nagging feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away.

When the truth finally came out, it shattered you. Your assistant broke the news: your fiancé had been busted at a drug-fueled party. Worse, it was also a sex party.

You felt your chest tighten at the memory. That betrayal had cut deep. But it wasn’t the only one.

Later that week, you discovered that your longtime manager, someone you trusted implicitly, had embezzled your money to feed a gambling addiction. Two people you thought you could rely on had betrayed you in the worst ways possible.

One night, overwhelmed and broken, you drove aimlessly, tears blurring your vision. Without any plan or destination, you just kept going until you found yourself parked outside Mrs. Walls’ familiar home.

Even after all these years, she had always been honest with you. When you needed guidance, she gave it without hesitation. If she thought something was right, she’d say, “Go for it, my dear.” If it wasn’t, she’d warn, “No. You deserve better.”

Now, sitting in her garden, you sighed and closed your eyes, letting the sunlight warm your face. For a moment, you could almost believe you were that shy student again before fame and heartbreak had found you.

Mrs. Walls watched you silently, her heart heavy. She wanted to help, but she knew you needed to find your way back on your own.

“How long are you planning to hide here?” she finally asked, her voice gentle but firm.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked at her. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Just like this, Mrs. Walls worried about you. You knew you were taking advantage of her kindness, aware she wanted you to step out of your shell, but you weren’t ready. The thought of facing the questions, the prying eyes, and the silent judgment was too much.

Just a little more time, you thought. That’s all I need. And some peace.

But peace wasn’t always easy to come by.

"VROOM!"

A sudden loud roar shattered the tranquility of the garden. The grating sound of a lawn mower filled the air, making you wince. You covered your ears, irritation flashing across your face.

Your gaze turns toward the source of the noise. “It’s already noon. The sun’s scorching hot—what kind of madman decides this is the best time to mow their lawn?”

“Well…” Mrs. Walls trailed off, watching the man seated atop the lawn mower. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

It's her neighbor, a man who had recently moved in. He wasn’t just any neighbor—he was one of her former students. Not from her music classes, though. He’d been one of the troublemakers, a kid who lived on detention slips and second chances.

“Bucky!” she called out, her voice carrying across the garden.

The man paused, cutting the engine. The deafening noise stopped, leaving an almost eerie silence in its wake. He climbed off the lawn mower, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

You squinted, ready to roll your eyes, but then your gaze lingered for a moment longer than you wanted. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his broad chest glistened with sweat. The sun highlighted the sculpted lines of his six-pack, and every step he took radiated an infuriating confidence.

Great, you thought bitterly. Annoying and ridiculously good-looking. Just my luck.

Mrs. Walls met him halfway, handing him a glass of lemonade. “Thank you,” Bucky said, his voice low and smooth.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled your eyes. “You’re welcome for the noise pollution,” you muttered loud enough for him to hear.

He turned, raising an eyebrow at you. “You’re welcome for cutting the grass, princess.”

“Princess?” you repeated, your tone sharp. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re out here ruining everyone’s peace, and I’m the problem?”

He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest, the gesture only drawing more attention to his muscles. “Stop acting like a diva.”

Your jaw dropped. “I am a diva!”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, taking a long sip of lemonade.

“What rock have you been living under?” you snapped, glaring at him.

He rolled his eyes dramatically, his expression shifting to one of mild exasperation. What you didn’t know was that Bucky wasn’t as clueless as he seemed. For the past three years, he’d been living under the radar, cutting ties with his old life. His job had demanded secrecy, isolation, and sacrifice. He didn’t have the luxury of keeping up with the world, let alone pop culture or celebrity news.

The truth was, he hadn’t recognized you—not as the world-famous singer everyone else seemed to adore. To him, you were just the frustrating woman who had suddenly appeared in Mrs. Walls’ house and made everything more complicated.

But even as irritation bubbled under his skin, he couldn’t help but feel intrigued. There was a fire in you that clashed with his rough edges, and it both annoyed and fascinated him.

For Bucky, Mrs. Walls had always been a comforting presence—a grandmother figure who offered him advice and a safe space to talk. Her home had become a haven. And then you showed up.

Now, that peace was gone, replaced with constant banter and an energy that made it hard for him to stay indifferent.

Mrs. Walls watched the two of you, her lips twitching as if suppressing a smile. Despite your usual quiet demeanor, you seemed to come alive whenever Bucky was around.

“You two are like a pair of bickering children,” she muttered under her breath.

“Excuse me?” you said, shooting her a look.

“Nothing, dear,” she replied with a knowing smile, sipping her lemonade.

Bucky glanced at you, shaking his head. “You know, for someone who wants peace and quiet, you sure have a lot to say.”

“And for someone who wants to mow the lawn, you sure talk a lot for no reason,” you shot back, folding your arms.

Bucky laughed, low and mocking. “This is going to be fun.”

“Fun for you, maybe,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the garden, though your face was still flushed from the exchange.

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but glance at his retreating figure, hating how effortlessly confident he looked. Bucky, meanwhile, shook his head, pretending not to notice you watching him.

Both of you were equally exasperated—and similarly intrigued.

Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, holding it up between two fingers with a smug grin. “Alright, princess, let’s make a deal. If it lands heads, I’ll keep mowing. If it’s tails, I’ll stop, and you can go back to your precious nap.”

You crossed your arms tightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “I hate this game,” you muttered, watching as the coin gleamed in the sunlight. He always did this—turning everything into some sort of challenge just to get under your skin.

Bucky smirked, clearly enjoying your irritation. “I know. That’s why it’s so much fun.”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, “Tails.”

He nodded mock-seriously, flicking the coin into the air with practiced ease. It spun rapidly, catching the light with every turn before landing in his palm. He slapped it onto the back of his hand, then slowly revealed the result with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Heads,” he declared, his voice full of triumph.

“Ugh!” You threw your hands in the air, frustrated, pushing off the bench. As you stomped toward the house, the wooden slats creaked behind you, muttering, “I’m getting noise-canceling headphones.”

Mrs. Walls watched you retreat inside, shaking her head with a fond smile. She turned to Bucky, who was spinning the coin between his fingers like a magician showing off his trick.

“You really should stop teasing her,” Mrs. Walls said gently, her tone a mix of reproach and amusement.

Bucky shrugged, slipping the coin back into his pocket. His lips curled into a devilish grin. “Nah… it’s fun.”

🌷🌷🌷🌷

You peeked through the blinds, trying not to let the soft rustle of the fabric give you away. Outside, Bucky was still chatting casually with Mrs. Walls. He leaned against the handle of the lawn mower, his broad shoulders relaxed, and his expression unusually serene.

How could he be so normal and polite with her, yet every time he spoke to you, it felt like he lived to make you grit your teeth?

You narrowed your eyes, watching him laugh at something Mrs. Walls said. That face… you thought bitterly. What a waste of a perfectly good jawline and those stupid dimples.

Letting the blinds fall back into place with a soft snap, you turned away and headed to your room.

Inside, the space was dim, the curtains drawn tightly against the glaring afternoon sun. The cool, muted light was a welcome contrast to the irritation buzzing in your head. You kicked off your slippers with a little more force than necessary and flopped onto the bed, burying your face in the pillows.

The mattress was soft, and the faint scent of lavender from the room’s diffuser helped ease the tension in your shoulders. But even as you lay there, trying to block out the world, your mind kept drifting back to the smug grin on Bucky’s face and the way he seemed to revel in riling you up.

“Urgh,” you groaned, rolling onto your side and hugging the pillow close. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to forget about him.

Eventually, the steady hum of the ceiling fan and the distant chirping of birds outside began to lull you into a state of calm. Your breathing slowed, and your grip on the pillow loosened. For now, rest was the only thing you wanted—a reprieve from the relentless antics of your maddeningly handsome neighbor.

🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷

The dream came fast and vivid, like a storm. You were running—barefoot, your breath ragged and your heart pounding in your chest. Behind you, shadowy figures loomed, their voices sharp and cruel. The flash of cameras blinded you, their light like fire against your skin. You kept running, your legs aching, but the ground felt like quicksand, pulling you down.

You jolted awake, gasping for air. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly as your heart raced, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to your mind. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, you saw the dim, glowing numbers: 2:00 a.m.

Sleep felt impossible now. The stillness of the house, once comforting, now felt suffocating. You swung your legs off the bed and walked to the window, pushing it open. Cool air rushed in, brushing against your flushed skin and carrying the faint scent of dew and earth.

“Should I go out?” you murmured to yourself. It was late—no, it was early—and the world outside was likely asleep. It might be safe.

Pulling on a hoodie and sweatpants, you crept quietly through the house. Every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet made your pulse spike, but you pressed on, determined. When you reached the door, you hesitated, your hand resting on the doorknob.

Flashes of the past flooded your mind—the crowd of paparazzi outside your apartment, shouting your name, their cameras clicking incessantly, their relentless pursuit. You clenched your eyes shut and took a deep breath.

“It’s different here,” you whispered, willing yourself to believe it. Slowly, you pushed the door open and stepped outside.

The cool grass greeted your bare feet as you stepped off the porch, the gentle night breeze brushing against your face. There was no one. No voices. No flashing lights. Just silence and the soft rustling of leaves in the dark.

You exhaled deeply, relief washing over you like a wave. One tentative step after another, you left the house, the distance growing between you and your sanctuary.

You wandered toward the park, the faint glow of streetlights guiding your way. The world felt peaceful, and for the first time in months, so did you—until the faint hum of an engine broke the stillness.

You glanced over your shoulder, your pulse quickening. A car was following you, its headlights low but its presence unmistakable. Then you saw it—a glint of metal, the unmistakable outline of a camera lens.

Shit. They’d found you.

Your heart pounded as the car crept closer. Picking up your pace, you started walking faster, then broke into a run.

“Y/N! Where have you been?” a voice called out from the car, loud and intrusive.

You didn’t answer, your breath quickening as you pushed yourself to move faster.

“Have you heard your ex-fiancé has rekindled things with his ex?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. What? Your mind reeled. You hadn’t even ended things officially, and he’d already moved on? That bastard. While you were here, broken and dealing with trauma, he was playing house?

“Is it true you gave money to your manager, knowing about his gambling addiction?”

You stopped dead in your tracks, glaring at the man hanging out of the car window. “No! I didn’t know! Leave me alone, you jerk!”

You started running again, your breath burning in your lungs, your legs aching. Desperation clawed at you as the car followed relentlessly. Then you saw him—a familiar figure jogging under the streetlights.

“It can’t be,” you whispered.

Without thinking, you sprinted toward him, your voice frantic. “Bucky! Help me!”

Bucky stopped mid-stride, his brows furrowed as he saw you running toward him. His routine early-morning jog had just turned unusual. His sharp eyes quickly took in the distress written all over your face. Before he could react, you leaped behind him, clutching the back of his hoodie and crouching slightly to shield yourself.

He stiffened, caught off guard. Then he saw it—a car slowing down, its passenger wielding a camera that kept flashing incessantly. The bright lights blinded him momentarily, and irritation sparked in his chest.

“Hey!” Bucky growled, marching toward the car. The camera flashes continued, and without hesitation, he snatched the camera from the paparazzo’s hands and smashed it against the pavement.

The paparazzo’s jaw dropped in shock. “My camera!” he yelled, scrambling to pick up the broken pieces.

But he wasn’t done. Pulling out his phone, the man began recording. “You’re a dead man! Who the fuck are you? Her boyfriend? Bodyguard?”

Bucky, his irritation mounting, opened his mouth to correct him, but before he could, you blurted out, “He’s my boyfriend.”

Bucky froze, glancing over his shoulder at you. Your grip on his hoodie tightened as you peeked around him, glaring at the paparazzo.

The man in the car stared at the two of you, his phone still recording. “This is going to be front-page news.”

Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell did you just drag me into?” he muttered under his breath.

Exciting News!

I’m thrilled to announce the release of my new book, Dad, I Can’t Let You Go—a heartfelt collection of short poems about loss, love, and the journey of missing someone deeply. This book is dedicated to my father and to anyone who has experienced the pain of losing a loved one.

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Thank you for your support, and I hope these poems resonate with you.

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[tojipie]

Crybaby gf x Toji explains my life so simply, and I’ve been reading them like once since day omg. I’m so obsessed with it. I was wondering if i could please request one where someone is passive aggressive towards her, maybe someone from the zenin clan?

content: crybaby reader, violence, blood, fighting, (happy ending :3 !) ˚ ✧ ───

what i've come to accept is that I simply cannot stop writing toji resorting to violence when reader's feelings get hurt

It had been years since Toji had attended a family event like this. a clan reunion dinner of sorts. You’d been cautious after receiving a sealed envelope with the Zenin crest last month, reluctantly passing it to Toji after he’d gotten home from work.

“How do they know where I fucking live… freaks,” he mutters, eyes scanning the parchment before blowing wide after reading what the invite was for.

“Wait, Naoya's engaged?” he laughs, folding the letter up and handing it back to you. 

Naoya. You'd heard that name once or twice from him. Never anything good.

“What's so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing," He laughs. "Just didn’t think it’d be to a woman.”

˚ ✧ ──────────

Toji pulls your seat out for you, letting you scooch in until your stomach presses up against the table. The raven-haired man settles in the seat next to you with a sigh, drumming on the table absentmindedly as the rest of his estranged family files in.

You feel ten, maybe fifteen pairs of emerald eyes bore into you in the few moments it takes for everyone to settle. Servants in black and white uniforms weave in and out of the room, their heads low as they hand out drinks.

The family had barely tolerated Toji for years. The family reject bringing an outsider as his plus one clearly wasn't helping. You brace yourself for the cacophony of whispers from the other women at the table, slinking into your seat to try and appear smaller. 

Except, the insults never come. A certain lithe blond had already captured the room’s attention, graciously greeting each guest with a confident smile. 

“You’ve grown so much Naoya.” An older woman gushes, patting his cheek. He accepts the affection warmly. 

He seems nice enough, you think to yourself. Watching as his smile morphs into a look of disgust as soon as she sits back down. 

Right, never cast judgment too quickly.

Naoya acts fast, snatching a perfectly folded handkerchief from his suit’s front pocket, to scrub the spot she’d touched. He tosses the fabric to a passing waitress, stealing a glass of wine off of her serving platter before downing the entire thing in two gulps.

So this was the infamous blond. Toji’s bratty cousin and subsequent family nemesis. Interesting. 

"So where's his fiance?" You whisper to Toji, trying to make yourself small at his side.

"Dunno," he snorts, "They probably won't meet each other til' their wedding day." He explains. Weird.

Newly inspired, you decide to take a sip from your own glass, wincing at the harsh aftertaste that blooms on your tongue. 

“Too strong?” Toji asks softly. You nod sheepishly, thanking him as he switches your glass for his cup of water.

“Definitely the real stuff.” You mutter, trying not to gag. 

“They’ve been aging this stuff since he was born,” Toji explains. “Family tradition, everyone gets a barrel that the family cracks open at one point or another.”

“So when are we opening your barrel?” 

Toji pauses, a faint playful smile on his lips.

“Shit, you think the family dud gets a barrel?” He doesn’t look hurt at the admission, but the creases around his eyes tell a different story.

An older man saunters up to the two of you, clapping Toji on the back before you can say anything.

“How long has it been my boy?” He exclaims, pulling the younger man into a hug and stepping back to give him a once-over.

Maybe an uncle, you think. They share the same hearty laugh.

Toji chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Couple years at least.”

“This your lady?” The older man asks, shooting you a wink. 

Strange, you realize this is the first anyone in the room besides Toji had acknowledged you tonight. 

“You know it,” Toji remarks fondly, laughing as the Uncle makes a quip you can’t quite hear before returning to his seat.

Nayoa kisses his teeth loudly, locking eyes with you from across the table. His words are loud when he cuts in, the room going silent as he speaks.

“So were you trying to water down your bloodline when you chose her?” A few partygoers laugh. 

Your eyes frantically scan the room, confirming your worst fear. Almost everyone was laughing at the two of you. Your vision blurs as tears gather in the corner of your eyes.

Naoya smiles coyly, leaning forward as he continues. “Or do you like the thought of children that are as useless as you ar–”

“You shut the fuck up when I’m talking.” Toji seethes, pointing the prongs of his fork in the direction of the blond. You feel every eye in the room bore into the both of you, jagged emeralds picking your every atom apart. Toji doesn’t seem to care, chest heaving as he waits for a response.

Naoya's smile fades. The younger man looks Toji up and down before taking a long sip from his cup of wine.

“I guess we have our answer.” He teases, reveling in the tauntful laughs that his joke earns.

Your stomach churns painfully, eyes zoning in on the glass of wine Toji had stolen from you earlier. Would downing the whole thing somehow get you drunk enough to forget this entire ordeal? If there was a time to leave, it would be now.

“Baby,” you mutter, tugging on the waist of Toji’s dress pants. “Let’s just go.”

“Fuck that,” your boyfriend spits, glaring down his shit-faced little cousin. You glue your eyes to the floor.

“Say it again.” He commands, his tone incredulous.

“What? That whatever spawn you two crank out will be duds?” Naoya asks innocently. “You can’t possibly be mad at me for pointing out the obvious?”

You feel Toji’s warmth leave your side as your boyfriend launches forward, knocking plates out of the way as he barrels over the table and tackles his cousin.

The table erupts in hysterics, the older men in the room urge the two of them to break it up while the women stare into their plates, horrified. You swear you hear a baby crying.

“Let me go you fucking ape!” you hear the blond grunt, driving his knee into Toji’s ribcage repeatedly as your boyfriend attempts to hold him down by the shoulders. Crimson rivets of blood leak down from Naoya's nose, accentuating the cracks in his lips.

You scurry back from the table, hand over your mouth as you take in the debacle. That churning feeling in your stomach has been replaced by something… much different. 

Something thick and viscous in the depths of your soul. Something saccharine sweet that makes your head swim.

Toji looked, for lack of a better word, fucking hot like this.

Their hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead, blood splattered across his cheek, face contorted in a manic smile so wide that the corner of his lips threatened to split. And he was doing it in defense of you. His sweet girl.

Your boyfriend manages to pin Naoya’s arm behind his back, pressing his weight forward and bending it at an angle that elicits a yelp from the younger man. Toji grabs him by the scruff of his neck, angling his head so Naoya is forced to look you in the eyes.

“Apologize.” He commands his voice a low, menacing rasp that sends a chill down your spine. The others in the room feel less important as the gravity of the situation washes over you.

Naoya laughs like it's the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“For what?” he spits, glaring at you through silky black-tipped bangs.

You flinch as the blond’s head is slammed down onto the tablecloth, his cheek squished into the plain linen by a hand large enough to dwarf his entire skull.

“I said, apologize,” Toji states plainly, his tone harsh and unwavering.

Naoya pants, eyes darting around the room as if searching for someone—anyone—brave enough to intervene. No one moves.

The younger man seems to mull it over, giving in as his arm twists to its limit.

“I’'m-- shit! I'm sorry,” He grunts, gasping in relief as your boyfriend releases him from his grip.

The room remains silent. A few relatives exchange horrified glances. The tension is suffocating, yet you can’t help but feel a flicker of triumph.

Toji saunters back into his seat like nothing happened, glancing up through his hair to address the room.

Eat,” It isn't a suggestion. 

The scraping of utensils against plates resumes hesitantly, the family too shaken to address the elephant in the room.

You sit quietly, your heart still racing. Toji’s hand finds your thigh under the table, his touch firm and grounding. 

The rest of the meal passes in awkward silence, punctuated only by the occasional cough or clink of silverware. Naoya sits at the far end of the table, mercilessly scrubbing at the blood that stains the front of his pristine white dress shirt.

When the meal is over, Toji doesn’t wait for the formalities to begin. He stands abruptly, helping you to your feet. “Get up,” he commands, a tender hand finding its home on the small of your back.

The two of you stride out of the room, the weight of a dozen judging stares on your back. The moment you’re outside, Toji lets out a soft chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

“Did you see his face?” he says, grinning like a man who’s just won the lottery. Toji holds his arm behind his back just like he had done to his cousin, forcing an exaggeratedly pained look.

You can’t help it—you laugh, a real, unrestrained laugh that shakes the tension from your body. 

“You’re insane,” you manage between giggles.

"Maybe,” he smirks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walk toward the car. 

[lily-fics-11]

I Can See You: Chapter 9 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

Chapter 9

A night out at a party and a day l in bed with Ellie.

Word count: 3.7k

CW: *Ellie and reader are both 18*, profanities, sexual innuendo/references, drinking, mentions of weed, sexual situation that almost gets smutty

On Friday night you and Ellie text until she passes out. You can tell she was trying to stay up to talk to you because she fell asleep without saying goodnight.

In the morning, she sends you an adorable good morning text and apologizes profusely for falling asleep on you. 

You text a lot throughout the day and in the evening, you go over to Nicole’s house to eat dinner and get ready for the party. 

About a million questions are asked about your date with Ellie before you’ve even made it all the way into the house. 

Getting ready all together you eat dinner, do your hair and makeup, and help each other pick out what to wear.

Upon arriving at the party with your friends you all grab drinks. 

Ellie wasn't there yet but she must have arrived soon after because within 15 minutes of being there you feel arms wrap around your waist and you smell the familiar scent of the woodsy fragrance she wears. 

“Hello beautiful,” she whispers in your ear. You turn around in her arms to kiss her. 

“Hi pretty girl,” you smile widely, seeing the way that the nickname flusters Ellie.

When you turn back towards your friends, she smiles at them and waves. 

“It’s nice to see you guys,” Ellie says to them.

“You too!” Teresa says with excitement. Melissa gives her a smile and a nod. Nicole smirks looking at Caroline’s reaction, she is looking Ellie up and down with suspicion. 

“Do you mind if I steal her for a few minutes?” Ellie asks nervously, directing the question at everyone but glancing nervously at Caroline.

“Of course!” Teresa answers for everyone. Nicole and Melissa laugh at Caroline, who Ellie is looking at for the final verdict.

“Fine,” Caroline sighs, seeing how happy you are and how desperate Ellie is for approval.

Ellie thanks them and takes you by the hand over to her friends.

Brooke is the first to say hi, she lets go of her boyfriend Danny to give you a hug which you were not expecting.

“Uh, hi?” It comes out as a question because you weren’t expecting such a warm greeting. 

“It’s so nice to meet you!” She says that like she’s never seen you before, despite that fact you’ve been going to the same school since kindergarten. 

“It’s nice to meet you too…” You play along for Ellie’s sake. It’s not worth getting into. 

Danny shakes your hand and introduces himself.

Mark does the same, but being the player that he is he’s clearly checking you out. He pats Ellie on the back and smirks. “Nice!”

Anna and Tim who are suspicious of you study you, though they seemed surprised by how attractive you are. They probably heard that you were her tutor and expected some movie cliche. They reluctantly say hi.

“It’s nice to meet you guys,” you smile at them, praying that you’re making a good first impression. 

“So… you’re Ellie’s girlfriend.” Anna asks as if she doesn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah,” you smile, loving the sound of being called that.

“Ellie’s first girlfriend! It’s so exciting!” Brooke practically sings. She’s clearly been waiting for this moment for a long time. 

“You are not what I expected,” Mark chuckles, still checking you out. Ellie gives him a little shove, they both laugh and he rolls his eyes, begrudgingly stopping his eyes from wandering over your figure. 

“You’ve made Ellie and I better friends, we’ve bonded over having really awesome girlfriends.” Danny kisses the top of Brooke’s head. 

Looking at Ellie you reply “that’s so sweet.”

“Now I don’t have to worry about calling girls the wrong name”, Mark laughs.

“Have you actually done that?” You laugh. 

“Well I’ve done it on purpose twice, those girls were bitchy to Ellie and I wanted to piss them off. The other… I’m not sure how many times… those were all accidents. I swear!”

The whole group starts laughing, as if that is not at all true. Brooke and Danny make small talk, congratulating you on being the valedictorian and your Ivy League acceptances. Ellie told them all about it, they said she’s so proud of you. The small talk comes to a natural end after discussing your days and Ellie’s lacrosse and the weather. It went better than expected and you are very grateful for that.

With her arm around your waist Ellie gets drinks for both of you. Alcohol isn’t necessary for you to have a good time together but there’s nothing wrong with a little buzz. After making your way back over to your friends and Ellie successfully chatting with them the two of you finish your drinks and grab more. Once they are poured Ellie takes you by the hand and drags you to where people are dancing.

“I didn’t think you were much of a dancer,” you tease Ellie and she smirks. “I’m not, but I want to see you dance, baby.”

Wrapping your arms around Ellie’s neck she firmly plants her hands on your waist. Her grip is possessive, anyone that looks at the two of you will know that you are hers. It’s not a way she’s ever been with another girl. She’s never felt the way she does about you about anyone else. You begin moving to the music, Ellie watches in awe of how hot you are. 

Out of the corner of your eye you notice a lot of eyes on you. You and Ellie together is not something that anyone expected. 

People were watching when you started dancing and people watched you all night. It makes you anxious at first but eventually you finish your third drink and are having too good of a time to care. With Ellie holding you like this you could do just about anything. 

At the end of the night Ellie doesn’t want to say goodbye. Neither do you, but she’s a little more dramatic about it. The couple of drinks she had, it ended up being a few more than you, certainly aren’t helping. But her clinginess is just so damn cute. 

With her arms around your waist and her face in the crook of your neck she whines “Baby I’m going to miss you so much!”

“Me too pretty girl, how about we hang out tomorrow? It’s spring break this week so I don’t have to get any homework done.”

Ellie perks up and pulls away to look at your face. “Really?!”

“Of course, Ellie. I’m your girlfriend, so I kind of like you!” You giggle at the way her mood changed so suddenly at the thought of getting to see each other. The way her face lights up with excitement makes you want to kiss her all over it. You settle for a kiss on her nose and she giggles too.

Ellie Williams? Giggling? Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe she’s just that down bad for you. Probably both. 

The kiss goodbye that Ellie gives is over the stop. Long, drawn out, and romantically passionate. When she pulls away from you a goofy grin is plastered across her flushed face. Is she blushing from the alcohol or from that kiss? Probably both.

Your friends are watching nearby. Caroline is over it, Nicole thinks PDA is gross, Melissa is laughing at those two, and Teresa looks like she’s watching a Nicolas Sparks movie. As for Ellie’s friends, Brooke and Danny are too busy sucking each other's faces to really notice, Mark left with a girl a while ago. The other two are actually waiting next to your friends for Ellie, surprisingly, though they are getting pretty impatient. 

Nicole’s older sister picks you and your friends up. Everyone is buzzing about Ellie. 

Back at Nicole’s house it’s hard to go to sleep, thinking about and texting, Ellie but eventually you pass out. 

The next morning you wake up to a good morning text from Ellie and she wants to pick you up from Nicole’s house so you can hang out as soon as possible. You talk her out of it so that you have time to shower and make yourself look nice for her before hanging out.

After leaving Nicole’s you go home and get ready, opting for cute but comfortable clothes since you are just hanging out around her house today. 

Once you are ready and drive over you arrive at Ellie’s in the early afternoon. You wave to Joel, who is outside mowing the lawn before Ellie lets you in. 

She grabs you by the waist and drags you in for a long kiss.

“Hello beautiful,” she smiles, admiring your face after she kisses you. 

Ellie takes you into her room and it’s even more Ellie than you expected. The space posters, the knickknacks and figurines, plus a ton of hand drawn sketches. 

“Did you make those?” You ask, pointing up at the drawings.

“The sketches? Yeah!” Ellie says as if it’s obvious. 

“You never told me you could draw!” You exclaim, playfully punching her arm. 

Ellie shrugs and blushes a little. “It’s just something I do for fun sometimes.”

A charcoal drawing of a T-Rex catches your eye, you get a little closer to it and notice the intricate details. “Ellie, this is really good. And I’m not just saying that you’re really talented.”

Looking back at Ellie her gaze is fixed on the floor. “Thanks,” she says sheepishly. That shy little look on her face melts your heart. You close the distance between the two of you and tilt her face back up to look at you with your index finger on her chin.

“You never cease to amaze me, Ellie Williams. You’re such a special girl,” you tell her softly. 

“I… but… I’m not… that special,” Ellie stutters, averting her gaze, freckled cheeks blazing red. 

“Look at me Ellie.” You firmly but gently tell her and she looks up, her eyes similar to that of a little puppy. “I think you are the most special girl in the world.”

“You are!” She replies a little defensively, as if only one of you is allowed to be, and that makes you giggle.

Ellie wraps her arms around you and kisses your forehead before nuzzling her face into your neck. “What did I do to deserve you?” She asks as if it’s some sort of philosophical question. 

“You won trivia,” you tease. 

She pulls away from you and you see that her eyes are closed. “Close your eyes!” She requests with excitement.

“Why?” You laugh. 

“Just do it.” Sighing, you close your eyes, unsure of what she is up to.

“I didn’t know the color of your eyes that day that I played trivia, but I do now.” Ellie goes on to describe your eyes in vivid detail. She starts with the color. Ellie compares your eyes to different things in nature she has noticed that remind her of you because they are the same color. 

“There is so much passion in your eyes, but also compassion and empathy. Then there’s all that determination and wisdom beyond your years. I love the way they light up when you get excited about something. Like when I get a question right on my homework? Seeing that happiness in your eyes just makes it ten times better. You look at me in a way I only dreamed of being looked at.”

It almost brings you to tears, the way she talks about your eyes and admires them as if they are a priceless work of art. Ellie places a gentle kiss on your lips when you are left speechless. After she pulls away you open your eyes to see her smiling at you.

“I’m so happy you are mine,” she whispers as if saying it too loudly would jinx it.

“Me too Els.” You smile and she blushes at the nickname. 

“You’re MY girlfriend.” Ellie says after getting distracted by looking at your face for a long moment. “That’s crazy.”

“So crazy.”

“The craziest.”

The two of you cuddle up in bed together to watch movies after deciding on Star Wars. 

At one point you pause the movie and go to the bathroom, when you come back Ellie ambushes you with a lightsaber. 

“If this was real you would be dead!” She says quite seriously, as if getting attacked with a lightsaber is something that you should be concerned about actually happening. 

“Maybe if I wasn’t unarmed, I would stand a better chance,” you tease. 

“You’re absolutely right,” she sighs and opens her closet to pull out another lightsaber. She hands it to you, and you start swinging it around, trying to get the hang of it. 

Ellie gets into a fighting stance and so do you, giggling at how cute and nerdy she is while being so serious. Ellie starts doing these crazy tricks, like this is something she practiced in her free time. If these were real lightsabers, you would be done for. 

Ellie laughs at you with so much affection. “I think sticking to tutoring is your best bet babe. You’re about as good at fighting with a lightsaber as you are at playing lacrosse.”

“That’s because I don’t have any training!” You defend yourself. 

“Then you can be my padawan. I will teach you the Jedi way.”

“Why thank you baby. Now I can protect myself from the dark side.”

Ellie wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to her for a kiss. “I gotta take care of my girl.”

The lightsaber practice worked up quite an appetite, so you search her kitchen for a snack. She finds a box of cookie mix.

“We could make cookies,” she suggests.

“Have you ever baked anything before?” You question, feeling like she is more the type to forget to eat then to go through the effort of making something like cookies. 

Ellie shrugs. “I know how to get baked.”

“Oh I’m sure you,” you giggle. “And to be quite honest, I can’t imagine that you’re any good at baking. This type of baking.”

Ellie clutches her chest in mock offense. 

“Come on Ellie, when was the last time you baked anything in this oven?”

“Honestly? Joel and I don’t really bake. This was supposed to be for the lacrosse team bake sale but we were worried it wasn’t going to come out good so we bought something at the store instead,” Ellie admits with a sigh. 

“Since you are so kindly teaching me how to use a lightsaber I will teach you how to bake,” you kiss her cheek.

Ellie focuses on the task at hand, determined to make the best cookies you have ever tasted. “Only the best for my girl!” She keeps saying. 

Following your instructions, she is meticulous. You got the instructions from the box, but she wants to hear them from you. She says that because you are her tutor she learns things better from you then from reading it. 

After the dough is ready and put in the oven the two of you get in her bed together while the cookies bake. You sit with your arms encircling Ellie’s waist, head on her shoulder, her chin on the top of your head. Her arm is around you and she occasionally plays with your hair. 

At some point while you wait Joel announces his departure for the rest of the afternoon, making sure to comment on how good the kitchen smells and asking you to save some for him.

When the timer goes off you have to stop Ellie from sticking her hand into the oven and pulling the tray out without an oven mitt. She was so excited to have made cookies for you that she forgot. You also have to remind her that they need to cool, and you can’t eat them right away and she is disappointed, highly anticipating your review in hopes of impressing you.

The cookies eventually cool down enough to be eaten. Ellie looks at the tray and picks out what she claims is the best cookie for you to try. 

She watches you expectantly as you take the first bite. It came out really good and you smile when you taste it, Ellie's look of anticipation turns to triumph. 

“Since you made it for me, this is the best cookie I’ve ever had?” You tell her.

“Really?!” Ellie questions. 

“Yes, really!” You giggle. “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Resisting your charm and beauty. Being away from you. Paying attention to anything other than you when we are together,” Ellie starts to list her weaknesses, all jokes aside. 

You kiss her cheek and tell Ellie how cute she is.

“You are even cuter,” she smiles, holding your face in her chin 

Picking up a cookie you hold it out to her. “Going to try one of the cookies?”

“I was so excited for you to try it that I forgot,” Ellie admits. Instead of taking the cookie into her own hand she just takes a bite out of it while you hold it. A bunch of crumbs fall and she tries to catch them but they fall to the floor. 

“Oops,” her cheeks go a little red, her mouth full, but then she finishes chewing. You just giggle at how endearing she is, how impossibly adorable she can be even if she’s talking with her mouth full. 

The two of you bend down at the same time to clean up the crumbs and bump heads. You both fall over laughing, in the middle of the kitchen floor. Ellie gets up first after picking up the crumbs and throwing them out. Then she turns to help you up. Ellie pulls you off the ground and into her arms. She presses her lips to yours gently. She tastes like cookies. And also joy and happiness and magic.

Forgetting about the cookies she drags you into her room. Before you know it she is hovering over you, straddling your waist on her bed. Ellie’s hands are on either side of your head while she stares into your eyes. She does that for a moment, she admires you, before lowering her face to yours and kissing you. 

Ellie tries to take her time, be sweet and gentle, but you are impatient and she doesn’t stop you when you deepen the kiss. The two of you have been dying to do this. You’ve spent time being sweet with each other and excitement has gotten the best of you both. You grab her by the back of the neck and press her closer to you. Your teeth biting at her bottom lip before sliding your tongue over it. 

Ellie parts her lips and your tongue slides into her mouth, tasting her and savoring it. The two of you explore each other's mouths before she pulls away to start peppering kissing along your jawline and down your neck. At first she is gentle, then starts nipping and sucking, trying to find a sweet spot. When she does it elicits a moan from you, she smiles against your neck before focusing on that spot, shamelessly leaving a mark. 

Ellie is possessive, and you like that. Love it.

Her kisses trail down to your collarbone and she’s stopped from moving lower by your shirt. She paws at the hem until you lift your arms over your head so she can pull it off. You’re wearing something cute underneath… which is obviously a coincidence and not at all planned… Ellie stops to admire it, a cocky smirk on her face. 

“Wear this just for me?” She teases.

“Oh no. ‘Course not. Just happened to put it on this morning,” you giggle and Ellie playfully rolls her eyes before continuing to leave kisses on every inch of exposed skin beneath her. 

“You look good for me baby girl. All for me,” she whispers against your skin, her warm breath and possessive tone sending shivers down your spine. 

“All for you,” you tell her and she looks at you hungrily, loving the sound of those words coming out of your mouth. When you realize just how much it turns you want to feed into it.

“Ellie, I'm yours. Your girl, you girlfriend. I want you. I need you. I’ve been wanting this for so long. I’ve been… aching… for this. Since our first kiss. I’ve known since then that I had to have you.”

Ellie moans when she hears that. “Fuck pretty girl,” and she pulls your back off the bed just enough for you to take off your bra and discard it. She connects her mouth to one of your nipples and as much as your head wants to fall back in pleasure she looks too good like this not to watch. Her mouth eventually gives attention to your other nipples and then trails down your body to the waistband of your pants.

Ellie’s long fingers start to fiddle with the string on your pants, eyes meeting yours. The green in her eyes is hardly visible, her pupils blow so wide with lust. She bites her lip, asking for permission and you nod, so she slowly unties the pants. 

Once the pants are untied Ellie pulls them down, eyes taking over her legs as she does. Ellie’s mouth looks like it is about to start watering at the sight of you in just your underwear after the pants are discarded. She runs her hands up and down your bare legs before leaning in and placing gentle kisses on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The tenderness of Ellie’s lips on that delicate skin that makes you mumble “more.” 

That sets Ellie over the edge.

Underwear hooked on her fingers Ellie practically whips them off of you, neither of you know where they land and she dives right into you.

A/N: I didn’t know how smutty to get here guys and I’ve been going back and forth on whether or not to take it any further but I’m leaving it off here so y'all can let me know if you want more! That’s why the word count is a little lower than usual lol. Also sorry for being a liar because I said this chapter would be out before Christmas. Turns out I ended up briefly crashing out and also had trouble making decisions. I love you all and wish you all a Happy New Year❤️ 

Tags: @bready101, @st4r-b3rries, @tlou-bombshell, @stvrs13, @everegretseverything, @mikellie , @lamolaine, @0pheli4 , @soupycloud, @radioheadfan699 , @callmelola111, @hysteriawillnotsuccumb , @normalthing111 , @3isosoup, @lmaoo-spiderman, @cqliflower, @ellstronaut, @boobdrug, @liasxeatt , @that-queer-fanbase , @benthoee, @charminglilly , @ellieslittleslutt, @dinanellie, @h4by43iie, @autisticintr0vert

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 97

Smile by Kayleen756894

Same as when we covered Burning Lungs, check the tags for this fic before ya jump in cause it gets pretty dark even within the first chapter. 

It’s a big day for the project people, I mentioned back on Day 60 that there were three fics that I consider directly responsible for this entire thing since they’re what set me on this path of a comically large amount of Junkan. And today we FINALLY talk about another one of them, even if I admittedly did cover a little bit of my history with this specific story during Day 60 for the sake of context. Apologies if I repeat myself a few times!

The previous few days I’ve been covering fic first, then the art. For this day however I’m going to cover the art first, along with any other bonus facts I have, and THEN i will do my best to adequately sing the praises of today’s stories.

Also let it be known that the music I put on while I read through the whole fic in preparation for today’s ramble was “LEASE” by Takeshi Abo. 10 hour loop too. Someone will find that funny probably, maybe even you!

(This is another long one, get ready)

Before I address the art I might as well have a little fun and discuss the order I decided to do these in, interesting I know.

Days 91-92 were easy, the first Soft Fic and the first fic to use the Non-Abusive Tag, they had to be the opener. Day 93 was one of the longer stories so I did that one first, since I did read each story before working on the art. From there it’s a pretty simple pattern of “Short Fic followed by a longer, more serious fic that I gotta psyche myself up for.” And it was done pretty much with todays subject in mind, but we’ll get for it. 

You’ll notice I have two different art pieces today, the reason is simple. I wasn’t very happy with the initial art, so I made a much more direct adaptation of a scene from the first chapter to go with it. And in a rare instance I can also bring you some early versions of the initial piece!

From the initial sketch you can see that this was supposed to be a proper cover for the story, as I wanted to feature scenes from each of the three chapters, that middle shot is one I’ve had in my mind since the first time I read the story. Those who have read the fic can probably recognize each one. The second image was almost the final version of this. I scrapped the lower portion of the art for a few reasons. The flames of burnout were miniscule but still present, though rest assured these would not come into play until after the point of when the fanfic art is all finished. Secondly, when I was supposed to work on this art, a power outage hit my house. This also meant that in terms of making the art I only had the first chapter read, anything else was purely memory (Like I said though, I read the full fic for todays ramble, rest assured). And thirdly, I kinda, just thought it didn’t look good? And as you can see this version had details cut despite how far into the process it was, fully removing the expressions outside of the two smiling. Cause y’know . . . “Smile.” Plus in retrospect the eyes, while striking compared to the rest of the art, look kinda fucking silly?

Why didn’t I like the end result? Honestly I think I was just in a bad headspace at the time due to the combination of the power out stressing me out, and just generally speaking my mental health has never been the most structurally sound aspect of myself. I’m good at drawing, not so much being well put together. Looking at it now, while I think the piece is a bit esoteric and might not be what I’d make today for a piece based on this fic, I like it a lot.

And at the end of the dead even if I didn’t like how the first one turned out, I’m pretty happy with it! Even with perfectionist brain bitching at me that I could have done Junko’s hair a bit better at the given angle. Just a straight adaptation of Junko and Mikan’s first kiss from Chapter 1. The most interesting note on it’s creation is that I had to make last minute changes to Mikan because I realized her hair needed to be a lot shorter and more well put together, as earlier in the fic Junko does fix it up a bit. 

Oh! I did also send the second pic to the author herself as a way of introducing myself and showing appreciation, so that’s a bit of added sentimental value! Kayleen’s an absolute treat by the way, super fun to talk too, great insight on writing, you should absolutely check out the rest of her writing! I’m not in most of the fandoms featured say for RWBY, but based on the quality of her writing on the Danganronpa side of things, I feel confident recommending anything she’s published in the past, present, and future!~ 

Speaking of writing, I should probably like. Talk about the god damn fic, huh? Well. Nope! I still have more fun facts!

I almost didn’t adapt Smile! I knew for certain that Kayleen needed a spot on this list, it would have felt wrong otherwise. And there were two fics in mind for adaptation.

“Smile”, obviously, and “Soft (But only for Her).” My earliest plan was going to be to just do both. However I only had 8 days to work with, and spoilers, Day 98 is in fact a returning author, so I didn’t want to take up half of my slots on two authors, I wanted to show my appreciation to as many as I could during this string of the event before going back to my own stuff for the last two days. So I thought it over, and decided that Smile was too important to pass up on this project, leaving Soft (But only for Her) for later.

I did have a full plan for it though, unlike Smile where I didn’t really have an idea going into it. I’ll tell you what the plan was gonna be.

Most people would be curious which of the around 30 wonderful one shots I could have chosen to adapt, I’ve already done one of them with the very first chapter in that collection! However you my audience, are not most people. There’s a good chance you’re reading this paragraph, rubbing your temples and resigning yourself to the fact that I was very much going to draw art based on every single piece of that collection. Because yes I was just gonna adapt all of it. Was gonna make a big collage out of all of em, even the chapters that have so much angst I struggle to even read them cause they make me too sad! I’d still do it too. I probably will. When you least expect it. 

For now though I really wanna draw something based on Chapter 25 when I have the time. I wanna draw art based on a lot of other fanfics actually, I’ve just been pretty swamped. But rest assured, to those of you who’ve written a Junkan fic and weren’t featured. Rest assured, I have my eyes open, I’m always looking that tag over, and there were definitely some stories omitted that I really wish I could have included IN the project. Give it time. My self control grows weaker by the day!~

Okay, okay. NOW, I should be able to talk about the fic. Probably.

So I’ve told this story before, but now you’ll get to hear it in a bit more detail compared to before. Will hopefully not be too repetitive for ya’ll!

So once again we jump back a few years during say, 2020, MAYBE early 2021. I find a fic that includes Junkan when I was simply trying to find Ikuzono. It ends up being pretty cute and makes me curious, “I thought this ship was super toxic? How is this one so cute?”

So, I look around the tag, still not sure how to Navigate AO3 even after gaining a lot of experience through the power of many late night tokomaru binges. And as you already knew or could guess, I came across Smile.

At the time it only had 2 chapters, which normally might have turned me away at the time, I wasn’t a desperate animal like I am today. However I guess I either ignored that, or just didn’t care, too curious to see what else this ship could entail.

So here I am, sitting in my bed, writing this ramble, trying to figure out once again how to talk about one of the fics that set me off on this obsession with Junko and Mikan as a softer, loving couple. That and also a fic that is much more serious in terms of its tone and content, as this fic, like Drowning, is one of the only fics in this stretch of the project that is definitely set in the main canon of DR. Serving as essentially a new origin for Junkan as a couple prior to the tragedy. 

I’m sure I’ve said before that when it comes to how I view Junko and Mikan’s relationship, that Val’s work is basically the primary blueprint for how I interpret and portray them. However that’s for the Non-Despair AUs, while there is some bleed over in how I handle Canon portrayals (And I admittedly haven’t done a lot with a serious interpretation of that), in my brain this story, Smile, is the blueprint of how I view a canon timeline version of Junkan. That might just be bias from it being the first fic I read that like, but it does kind of help that this is just one of the most excellently written interpretation of these characters I’ve ever bared witness to.

The first chapter was originally supposed to be a Standalone according to the Author’s Notes, and it really works as one! It’s a very complete story that’s super well put together, and ends very satisfyingly if you just stop after finishing it. I’m extremely glad it continued, as I don’t think my obsession would have come to fruition when it did if not for those following two chapters. But maybe I’m wrong cause this fic certainly knows how to hook you on a ship!

I was god damn mesmerized reading the first chapter. This has to be one of the saddest takes on Mikan’s character that I’ve ever read. Burning Lungs comes close however we never get to actually see things from her perspective, that’s all from Junko’s outsider point of view. Here we get to see it all from Mikan’s perspective, all of it, the sad stuff, the extra sad stuff, the stuff I don’t really know how to talk about because I’m inadequate with this kind of subject matter. And some gay panic, because it’s not Junkan without at least a little gay panic somewhere in the mix.

Junko is really god damn good in this first chapter, she’s god damn good in the whole fic but we’re talking about chapter one right now so i’m specifying. She has such a mysterious aura around her the entire time, and not just the obvious “Oh she’s planning the tragedy behind the scenes,” but also the mystery of how she feels about Mikan! It’s something left up to viewer interpretation in the first chapter, and to a much lesser extent the following chapters (I say lesser extent cause it does eventually lean into her having real feelings for Mikan, just being super confused by them. At least that’s how I look at it). Everytime I read one of these stories that serve as an origin point for these two’s relationship, it’s always really interesting to see how things initiate. It’s pretty much always Junko initiating of course, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a fic where it was Mikan who made the first move? If there is I’m having a severe lapse in memory it seems, or I’ve misinterpreted! The point of course being I really like the way Junko handles things here, saving Mikan from her darkest point, all that good shit! 

And the kiss? I drew it for a reason, it’s amazing. From the buildup to the way Mikan has a rare instance of boldness and grabs Junko’s tie? The grabbing the tie part makes my brain explode, the fact that Junko herself was surprised by it is even better. I love it whenever Mikan can actually get Junko surprised or flustered. It’s great!

I feel like I should be more detailed, more meticulous, but it really is a struggle trying to be in depth when discussing something this good, I wouldn’t consider it my strong suit? 

So let’s try moving onto chapter 2! I do at least have a story with this one but that can be for when I finish desperately trying to talk about the chapter itself. 

It’s lovely! Big shock! We get to see the two of them just acting like a normal couple for a bit, and even better we get to see the two partaking in some sleepy cuddles. That scene also does one of those Junkan things I fuckin love where Junko just, fucking reads Mikan’s mind. I know that’s not what she’s doing but also it’s funnier to put it that way. I just like Junko putting her analytical ability to use by reading Mikan and understanding her finer details. It can be used in all kinds of ways, cute ways, funny ways, saucy ways, but this might just be my favorite way? Her being able to tell when Mikan’s about to spiral and snapping her out of it quick. 

Their date is lovely by the way, love the drive there, the conversation is just a treat. And I really like the reference to the grenade scene from the DR3 anime, I might not have fond memories with that series like, at all, but that one clip of Junko tossing the grenade and Mukuro (We’ll get to her) catching it is just a really fun bit of energy. It’s also just fucking funny because it reads like they practiced that shit for like 2 fuckin weeks- Sorry, distracted. Anyway I think the scene is both a fun reference, and another good way to kinda remind of us the darker parts of this storyline underlying the softer surface. Junko is in fact trying to burn the world down, she just also happens to have a tooth rotting-ly sweet relationship with a very sad nurse. The moments where Mikan unintentionally peers into that world, whether hearing an explosion or seeing the red roots of Junko’s true haircolor, I love it all!

Great moment with Mikan helping that kid from bullies, always love to see Mikan flourishing in these stories (foreshadowing)! I think it is very funny that the small child just immediately clocked that Mikan and Junko were dating, the kid either has a crazy gaydar or Mikan and Junko are the least subtle people alive . . . okay yeah it’s that second one.

The following scene is great too, fuck those parents, and fuck yeah to Junko coming in for the clutch as she is one to do in this fic. The kiss to follow? Fantastic. Junko’s joke about exhibitionism? Also fantastic. The part where Mikan says she’s gonna go see her parents- Fuck.

Okay so, I’mma make the assumption that if you’re this deep into my ramble you’ve probably read the fic already. And if you skipped out on the fic due to the subject matter noted in the tags, you can probably already tell by my apprehension that everything in this fic from here on out is like, the opposite end of the spectrum from all the sweet (albeit ominous) stuff we’ve had up till now. And you’d be correct, and I quite frankly don’t know how to talk about it, like, at all. There are parts of this that I do wanna talk about from this and the following chapter, but also I feel neither confident nor comfortable explicitly discussing what happens to Mikan here. Even if you can probably already tell.

Still, I must show my respects to the literature and it’s author, so I will do my best. Apologies if I fumble here.

I’m still not gonna talk in depth about Mukuro here, but I do like the conversation leading up to this scene, before Mikan shows up. It’s something that was going to inevitably come up, because yeah, Junko can make Mikan fall deeply in love with her, but that won’t exactly prepare her for being complicit in the apocalypse. There’s a part of me that’s curious what her gameplan was before the end of this chapter happens, how was she going to try and turn Mikan over to her side 100% and make sure she’s ready. The world will never know.

Junko’s great at the end of this chapter, not just the comfort she provides. But the way she, in the words of the story, Snaps. That line? That stuck with me when I first read this. I think it’s the moment that confirmed for me personally, that yeah, Junko does love Mikan even if she doesn’t understand it. And it wasn’t just that moment that stuck with me, it was the whole fic by this point.

That’s right, it's story time. So when I found this fic, there were only two chapters. And I wanna remind ya’ll that before this fic I read a fic so silly, soft, and fluffy that it made me question what this ship could be. Jumping from that, to this was definitely . . . Whiplash?

What happened after that is fun, because I don’t fucking remember. I think unironically the amount of stress that ending put me under just from the shock of it, made me fuckin black out?? Which by the way, huge kudos, it takes some really fucking good writing to get me so invested that I get real life stressed as shit because of bad things happening to the characters. But anyway, I didn’t actually just, black out from stress. But everything after that is so blurred that it’s borderline incomprehensible, I try to remember past that point, and it’s like looking at memories put through a paper shredder before being put back together by a toddler doing a handstand. 

All I can say for sure is that starting from the morning after, I was obsessed. I woke up, and kept fucking checking to see if Chapter 3 was out yet. I hadn’t checked the time of the latest update, I still barely fucking understood how AO3 actually worked. I’m pretty sure it was through this fic that I learned that when a fic updates it moves to the top of the page for a given tag. This was also way before I had an AO3 account, so I couldn’t just subscribe or bookmark it. I’m sure I read other fics at this point, probably including Kayleen’s other works? But the timespan between Chapter 2 and 3 feel like white noise, whatever I read didn’t exist in my memories by the time that story ended. And god damn did it end.

When Chapter 3 popped up, it was late I’m pretty sure. I don’t know what I was doing at the time, maybe looking at manga online, talking with friends over discord dms, failing homework over online school, maybe even doing some of my own writing since i’m pretty sure this was back before my passion for it died out. Whatever it was, I dropped it fucking IMMEDIATELY. I needed to see this ending, I needed that catharsis.

So I layed in my bed, in a house I was still new to, and read the god damn chapter.

It was perfect. One of the first times to my knowledge where I’ve had the satisfaction of reading an unfinished fic and getting to actually see it end.

Where do I start, what do I even say? Anything I say just kind of boils down to “Junko and Mikan are perfectly written and I love their interactions and also god dammit I feel so bad for Mikan.”

The scene on the rooftop is great, I remember in one of Kayleen’s other fics Mikan shows concern for Junko’s eating habits, so getting to this scene and seeing the reverse was nice. And like, god, Junko’s so good in this. I get she’s trying to start the end of the world but she’s doing such a fucking good job here. Sure, she asks Mikan to kill her parents right after this, which might not be the most normal way of helping your girlfriend through a severely traumatic experience, but that’s just Junko y’know? 

Should I talk about Mukuro now? I should probably talk about Mukuro now, I really wanted to wait like one more scene but fuck it we’re talking about Mukuro now. 

Have I ever really talked about Mukuro in the context of Junkan? I know I’ve definitely made note of her, and I’ve obviously included her in these pieces with varying degrees of prominence. But I don’t think I’ve ever noted how I think she’s is one of the most interesting and amazing assets of Junkan as a ship. Calling Mukuro an asset feels like a disservice, but I lack the words to adequately describe what I mean here. 

The Despair Sisters are already one of the most interesting dynamics in Danganronpa, and a pretty versatile one at that based on the various interpretations I’ve seen of these two. And I think adding Junkan into the mix is just lovely, because it adds an outsider perspective, but not just that, it’s the outsider perspective of someone who’s closer than anyone else due to Mikan dating Junko. Bonus for the contrast of Junko pampering Mikan and shit talking Mukuro, even if I believe that shit talking is just a very layered way for Junko to express that she does care about Mukuro as a sister. 

And I think Mukuro and Mikan is a really fun dynamic too! I love the idea of Mikan finding love through Junko, and then in turn getting a second person in her life that cares about her. Mukuro being Mikan’s bodyguard bare minimum is great, protect that sweet little nurse you desaturated girliepop you. But I think the way their dynamic can evolve overtime as Mikan continues to date Junko is great. 

Mukuro getting to see firsthand how Mikan is changing Junko for the better, even if it’s in a canon timeline where Junko’s still like, very locked in on the apocalypse. She’s getting to be happier in a more genuine way, which I’m sure Mukuro would be grateful for, and that just makes her caring about Mikan’s wellbeing all the better.

Plus like, something I don’t think about often, at least not until very recently, but if Junko and Mikan are dating, and inevitably get married. That does just kinda mean Mikan and Mukuro are sisters in law. And, I fuckin love that? Mikan not only gets an amazing relationship with Junko, but she also just gets to have a sibling, something that to my knowledge she doesn’t have in canon. It’s that found family stuff that I love, even if the found family in this case is a bit more literal rather than just being a metaphor. And Mukuro gets a new sister, one who cares about her just as much as Junko, but is just significantly better at expressing that by comparison. I think Mukuro would really appreciate having a sister who like, hugs her without slinging an insult, or just getting any kind of open, visceral appreciation without having to read between the lines. 

I love to see Mikan with plenty of friends, she has a bunch of dynamics that I appreciate. But I also have a lot of appreciation for the idea of Junko and Mukuro being the only people she cares about, the only people she needs to survive. 

Where was I- Oh right.

Kayleen’s depiction of Mukuro and her dynamic with our other two primary characters is amazing. Spectacular even. Fucking perfect perhaps. It does everything I love about the Despair Sister’s dynamic without bordering into uncomfortable territory like some facets of the main canon does. But what I especially love is her dynamic with Mikan in the few moments we get to see them interact. A protector, a friend, and eventually a sister to her, it’s amazing. The scene when Mikan wakes up to Mukuro watching over her while Junko is away is phenomenal, and I love Mikan’s concern for her given the way Junko treats her, which does look pretty bad without the deeper context. The moment at the very end of Chapter 2 where Mukuro just heads off to (I assume) kidnap Mikan’s parents after just sharing a look with Junko, it’s another one of my favorite bits in that scene.

And of course, the scene that lead me to start yapping about Mukuro like that out of fucking nowhere, her talking to Mikan about Junko’s test. It’s great how she tries to help Mikan come to a decision without forcing anything. But also finally giving some more confirmation that Junko definitely feels something for Mikan, expressing how many changes in her demeanor she’s noted. And the reveal that Junko routinely struggles with Nightmares whenever Mikan isn’t around?? Fuck I love that. God dammit. 

I feel like I should talk more about this scene, but I feel like I kinda did? To an extent? A lot of what I just said about Mukuro’s place in this dynamic kinda sums up a lot of the great things about this scene. So I suppose we move on.

The buildup to the big scene of this chapter is wonderful of course, not much to say there. And I admittedly just really want to talk about the scene that follows.

Because god it’s everything I was hoping for when I finished that second chapter and had no idea whether I’d see this scene or not. 

The reveal is great, and as grotesque as I anticipated. I do cringe a little reading some of the details, not the modern dickhead definition of cringe either I mean the “Oh god fuck that’s brutal” kind of cringe. And it is so perfectly contrasted by Junko being Junko, love the idea that Junko and Mukuro just nabbed up these people and didn’t explain a goddamn thing until this very moment where they finally figure out that this crazy bitch is dating their daughter. Mukuro punching Mikan’s dad in the face was fucking great too. 

And the buildup to what comes next, is so god damn good. It feels weird out of context celebrating it, but the scene where Mikan breaks? Fucking spectacular. The distortion on the word Red hits like a fucking truck, and also speaks to my childhood of being a creepypasta kid because i’m like, half sure that’s the zalgo text filter, correct me if I’m wrong of course. Point is it was an out of nowhere detail that perfectly emphasized the tensity of what’s about to happen.

And I can go on another tangent now, because this is something I have had no opportunity to talk about during the entire duration of this project. At least not to my memory or knowledge.

I love Angry Mikan. I love the Mikan that snaps and is fully over the edge, not willing to deal with anyones bullshit. I of course have criticisms of Chapter 3 in DR2, but Mikan’s reveal of her true self, or I suppose the herself prior to the NWP, I love that moment. 

I’ve never depicted Angry Mikan before, but someday I really want to. So until then I take great enjoyment in seeing such a rare side of Mikan, which itself is even rarer in these fics. I think counting this one there are only 3, maybe 4 other fics off the top of my head where we get to see Mikan fully lose her temper. Now of course, I could be suffering another lapse in memory, or I just haven’t read the other stories that feature it. I only think I’ve read like, 90% of the Soft Junkan out there, I can’t confidently claim I actually have for certain, so maybe I missed it! 

Point is, seeing Angry Mikan is a treat. And here especially is fucking amazing, the verbal teardown, the havoc of it all. It’s great. And Junko just adds to it with her sheer excitement (which is putting it lightly given some of the dialogue), getting to see Mikan finally become, from her perspective, the best version of herself. Someone who can survive alongside her. 

When things start moving, it’s amazing. A small moment I really love, and the moment I was originally gonna wait for to talk about Mukuro with. Her offering up an assortment of firearms from “Her personal collection.” is just, weirdly wholesome? The things I get to say talking about this ship I swear. I dunno, it feels like such a small, personal moment and offer that only Mukuro could provide, and feels like the perfect cap to Mikan and Mukuro’s dynamic throughout this fic.

Also, fucking enamored with the the presence of a Rocket Launcher. Funniest alternate timeline sitting right there, imagining Mikan with a fucking rpg over her shoulder is hilarious.

Junko offering the reverse side of the weaponry coin is lovely too of course, but it’s the wonderful stuff I’d already expect with Junko, so much less of a pleasant surprise like Mukuro. I do appreciate her keeping a knife used on Mikan’s father as a trophy though, imagine that over the fireplace.

Anyway I don’t know how I could really explain to you why the torture scene is nice. It’s catharsis, it’s just catharsis. I don’t even remember how fucking long I waited to read this moment but it was so worth it, Junko and Mukuro joining in to help setup equipment was also really cute . . . i feel like i shouldn’t be calling segments from a torture scene cute. Hm. Well anyway, I can say that while I appreciate its existence, I’m also glad Kayleen chose not to drag it out for too long. Ironic coming from the most excessive bitch around here, but it probably would have been a bit much if it took up the grander majority of this chapter.

Which means we say goodbye to Mukuro and return to our regularly scheduled Junko and Mikan moments. 

And yeah what do you want me to fucking say, it’s amazing? Because it’s amazing as fuck, yeah. I’m running out of ways to just say how fuckin much i love this, but i’ll persevere best I can. 

I mentioned way earlier that I love it when Mikan catches Junko by surprise, and we get more of that here. Though in this instance I think it’s better to describe that this is the first time Mikan just gets the upper hand on Junko, who’s struggling to fight back in the conversation because she’s already struggling to figure out her feelings. And it’s really lovely to see Mikan fighting past Junko’s own insecurities, especially when she regards herself as a bad girlfriend. It’s great, and it’s more of that role reversal I love. 

The book analogy near the end of this conversation is so good, it’s sappy as fuck but that’s why it’s good. And Junko leaning into it despite how lame it is makes it all the better, and I only noticed on this recent reread that there’s even a cheeky V3 reference as well, clever!~ 

The kiss is of course great, and I think i’ve just fully fucking run out of ways to talk about how much I love Junko and Mikan kisses in these stories. Thank god there isn’t one in tomorrows fic- getting ahead of myself. 

Rip to Scissorhands, thanks for the gay but you will not be missed.

God damn amazing fic, so well written. It’s one where I have to be in a very specific mindset in order to read it, as that middle chapter really does stress me out enough to be a bit of a roadblock. But admittedly this most recent reread wasn’t the worst compared to the previous few times. That said the fic definitely had it’s effect on me like usual, my body felt all kinds of wild ways, my heartbeat was a lot more intense, breathing a bit wacked out, my nerves up. The whole shebang, so good fucking writing. Equally bittersweet considering that, at least I assume, the normal events of DR are going to follow this story, even if not immediately. So Mukuro’s gonna die, Junko’s gonna die, and then Mikan’s going to have her brain undespaired and probably lose all her feelings towards Junko (Though I will admit, the idea of Mikan after the actual events of canon still having feelings for Junko while not being a remnant is pretty interesting). 

However, I can live with that. It’s still an amazing story even with main canon in consideration, and I think I’ve run out of things to say here. 

Tomorrow is the last fic based art in the event, Days 99 and 100 are all on me. And by process of elimination you probably have an idea of what Day 98 is, you may even know the exact fic. 

I said there were three fics that were vital to me reaching this point in my life, being this obsessed with Junkan as a ship.

The Third Fic, Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed, is the fic that sent me spiraling into brainrot to the point of snapping and drawing art of it behind closed doors, eventually snapping me into drawing more Junkan than I imagine most if not anybody ever has.

The Second Fic, Smile, is what got me obsessed with the ship in the first place, of course only enough to enjoy reading it in secret, which would lead me to EYED.

All that’s left is The First Fic, which you’ll see tomorrow. The fic that made me bother to even give this ship a chance in the first place. Hilariously, I will probably not yap about it nearly as much as the previous two, even if I love it. 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[valkyriesno1fan]

Hi! I want to start by saying that I'm an Elriel, but my question is meant with literally zero hate. I don't want to start any more conflict, and I hope this doesn't come across like that. I'm just very curious about something.

When Gwynriels talk about Gwynriel's/Gwyn's book, what do you mean exactly? Because I really don't understand. Are you saying you think the next book will have Gwyn/Az as main characters (like Nessian in ACOSF), or that it'll be another Nesta book and therefore Gwyn will have a very important role in it and we'll see her relationship with Az grow "in the background" (as in we won't get their pov, just Nesta's)? Because ACOTAR (as a series) is at its core about the Archeron sisters. Or do you think there will be an Elucien book (so every sister will have a book) and then a spin-off/novella about Gwynriel with their pov?

I'm genuinely curious about this because I never saw any further explanation on the topic. Also, English isn't my first language so I really hope I don't sound accusing/aggressive or anything like that. Forgive me if that's the case and thank you for reading/answering 😊

hi! great question! you don’t sound aggressive at all don’t worry! i like to have normal civilized discussions about books, so thanks for asking your question:)

first i want to start by saying that it has never been stated by sjm or sjms team that the series is at its core about the archeron sisters. i don’t know where this idea came from. the only thing we know, is that there will be 2 more novels, and one novella. sjm has said that each book will follow one couple and their journey/story. so it’s literally impossible for the series to be only about the archeron sisters since we need at least 1 more novel about a character who is not an archeron.

i’m not saying elain won’t get a book. it’s been very clear that she will. i’m just not sure her book will be the next one, or the one after that, to wrap up the series. sjm said, when talking about the spin offs, that she wants to tell elains story, mors story and azriels story. i think it’s very interesting that she said it like that. why separate azriel and elain if they have the same story to tell? if they share the same book? i think one book will be elains (with lucien as other MC) and the other one will be azriels (with Gwyn as Mc). we could get the novella about mor (and emerie?).

i think where you, and a lot of other elain and azriel shippers get confused, is that it may seem we think it will be gwyns book. while i think gwyn will be the supporting love interest, i think it’s very clearly going to be azriels book. just like how cassian was the second pov/MC, but it was still clearly nestas book.

i’ve also seen the argument that sjm doesn’t write male centered book, which is why azriel won’t get a book. this also isn’t true. she wrote tower of dawn, a tog book, which was centered around chaol and advertised as such.

i think that if there’s one male character in acotar that has to get their own book it’s azriel. azriel has so many problems and issues with self worth/obsessions etc. that i think he really needs his own book. his issues are too big to be a supporting main character (like how cassian was with nesta). gwyn also has healing to do of course, but it’s not as drastic and big as azriel. her healing is the perfect amount for the supporting love interest.

same with lucien. lucien also needs to go on a healing journey, but elain has bigger issues, which is why the book will be centered around her.

it’s why i don’t think azriel and elain work, writing wise. they both have too much healing to do on their own, that if it’ll be elains book, azriels healing will be drowned out and if it’ll be azriels book, elains healing will be drowned out.

i hope this explains jt well. feel free to ask another question or message me :)

[peachhcs]

I need to see like Blair going to Samy for girl talk and relationship advice. I feel like they would have a super cute relationship.

you guys just read my mind so well because i also got another ask about this :) i feel like blaire is like mack asking will a hundred questions about his sex life but she’s just less blunt about it hahaha but of course samy is more than happy to answer the questions. it makes her feel like a big sister since she’s the youngest

au masterlist

the two girls sat together in the sap center thirty minutes before puck drop. they had been making small talk and talking about their semesters so far when blaire finally found the courage to ask samy the question she’s been thinking about all night.

“hopefully this isn’t weird but did you enjoy your first time?” the dirty blonde asked shyly, her voice low so the others around them wouldn’t catch the conversation.

samy, a bit caught off guard but smiled nonetheless, “yeah, it was fine. why do you ask?”

“oh, i don’t know. i’ve never really..gone that far with a guy before,” blaire admitted almost embarrassingly.

“that’s okay. i feel like people hyping up the first time is always so overrated because there’s no right or wrong way to do it. it’s however you want it to go,” the brunette shrugged a bit. hers wasn’t magical or anything, but the guy she did it with was really kind and made sure she was okay more than anything.

“your first time wasn’t with will?”

“no, it was with this guy i had a small thing with my junior year of high school. he was nice and we’re still friendly with one another,” samy chuckled thinking about tyler and she wondered what he was doing. all she knew was that he was at the university of delaware.

“did it like..hurt?” blaire couldn’t help but ask because obviously she didn’t have a mom to talk about this stuff with and her brothers were definitely out of the question.

“i mean..kind of at first? the pain usually subsides as you keep going but if it hurts at all and you wanna stop, don’t hesitate to voice that,” samy’s never really had someone ask her about this stuff before, but she was more than happy to answer blaire’s questions.

she even got a small wave of deja vu when she was 16 sitting in her kitchen asking grace all the same questions.

“i feel like mack and i wanna take the next step but i don’t think either of us really know how to because we’ve never..” she trailed off.

“it can be awkward at first to talk about it but i guess you just kind of go with the flow? see how everything plays out and if it’s something you really wanna do. once you do it the first time, it kind of breaks the barrier for all the other times.”

“yeah, that makes sense. sorry for bringing it up,” blaire flushed but samy quickly shook her head.

“don’t apologize. asking is important. hopefully i was somewhat helpful,” the brunette giggled and blaire smiled.

“you were, thank you. i feel like you and will are like our older siblings or something,” the thought made both of them smile. with samy and will being the youngest siblings, having someone younger than them look up to them was a nice change of pace after looking up to people all their lives.

“i always wanted a younger sibling growing up because i hated being the youngest,” the youngest hughes laughed.

“i can’t believe you grew up with three brothers older brothers. one was a lot for me,” blaire remembered all the times mason would bully her and carter and boss them around.

“it was definitely an experience, but i love them. they’re my rocks. i look up to them a lot,” samy grinned. she was glad they grew out of the being annoyed at one another phase and could actually get along because quinn, jack, and luke were the whole reason why she was the way she was.

she couldn’t imagine a life without them really.

“i’m glad you have that relationship with them. i wish i had that with mason. ever since our mom died and he went to college, he doesn’t ever talk to me anymore,” blaire frowned. samy frowned too and quickly squeezed her arm.

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay. i’m learning to be okay with it and maybe mason will come around one day,” the figure skater shook her head and managed another smile.

“well, you have us. i can only imagine how much the rest of our friends will like you whenever you meet them. hannah and julianne will love you, i know it,” samy grinned.

“your friends seem so cool. i see you guys interacting on instagram a lot,” blaire giggled, her wide smile returning.

“they’re so crazy, but a good crazy. will’s dev friends are some of my closest friends,” the brunette thought about the boys all the way in boston.

“i bet you get a lot of fans wanting like inside information about them or like rare pictures,” the two girls giggled.

“actually, i’ve learned that some people have found my vsco that i used to post a lot on in high school and they found the craziest old photos of the guys on there. a lot have also found my private spam account requesting to follow to get those pictures too,” samy laughed.

“that’s crazy.”

“yeah, those girls will do anything for pictures of their favorite hockey players. i don’t blame them though.”

“i feel like having a private instagram is so smart though. i’ve never thought of that,” blaire hummed.

“i made it a few years ago because i wanted to be able to post things for just my close friends. fans are crazy detectives though and have found it,” the youngest hughes said with a small shake of her head.

“wow,” blaire mumbled. the two girls glanced back out at the ice to find their boyfriend’s, puck drop getting closer.

they were skating around the ice getting last minute passes in. samy smiled seeing will down there locking himself in to play the sport he loved. her and blaire were sporting their boyfriends’ jersey’s tonight together. with samy there, a few fans recognized her and wanted pictures and with blaire slowly becoming more public, they started recognizing the younger girl too.

“okay, this might also be another weird question, but like..what does it feel like when the guy..you know..” the younger girl didn’t wanna finish the sentence in such a public setting and samy couldn’t help but laugh.

“uh..well..i guess..warm? i don’t know a better way to describe it. usually, you’d like…with them and it’s all just one big good feeling,” the brunette cringed at her words.

“how long does it last for?” blaire raised her eyebrow.

“uh..well..like..a few seconds at least?”

“i’ve heard that it’s normal for guys not lasting a long time,” blaire kept talking and samy flushed. she glanced around to make sure no one was really listening to them.

“your very first times, yeah. it’s fairly normal. some guys will try and build their stamina though,” the soccer player shrugged.

“how long do you and will..go for?..”

another blush coated samy’s cheeks, “it depends i guess. 5-10 minutes?”

“wow. that’s a lot,” the dirty blonde mumbled.

“it all depends on what you guys like you know? some people can go long, some people like to keep it short. will and i are in between i guess.”

“do you guys do it every time you visit one another?”

samy’s face had gotten so red she worried other people would notice, “maybe we can talk more about this in a more private space,” the girl giggled and blaire quickly flushed, forgetting for a moment that they were in a hockey arena full of fans.

“right, sorry.”

“don’t apologize, i like the questions. we’ll keep talking,” samy winked and blaire smiled.

[riinniies]

ITOSHI SAE X FEM! READER

Plot : Soulmate AU, Red string of fate.

Same universe as Tsundere Rin : Soulmate :))

Annoying Sae, Age up Sae (24 years old), oneshot, idk why i love sae even tho sometimes he's so annoying.. Sae and her really hate what's happening to them right now (I'm actually a little annoyed with sae so I made this fic).

No fluff just Sae and her argued in this fic.

My writings

I hope you like ittt ! <33

Unlike his younger brother, Sae would completely ignore his soulmate if he were to meet them right now. He had often heard or accidentally read about his brother's romantic soulmate stories. Everywhere he went, from the internet, to interviews, and even in magazines. Damn it.

To be honest, Sae was fed up, especially when people constantly compared him to his younger brother.

"His brother met his soulmate at 18, why is Sae still not with his soulmate?" a fan said during an interview that was aired on international TV. Sae felt irritated. Hello? Isn’t that normal? There are still many people who meet their soulmate after they turn 30.

Sae was only 24, but people were so noisy.

• • • •

"Sae, are you sure you want to take time off?" Sae’s manager asked with a shocked expression. Since childhood, Sae had never asked for times off, especially for something as long as this. What was really going on?

Sae sighed, staring blankly at his manager.

"Yeah. So what?" he replied irritably. Just figure it out for yourself why he wanted time off. He was tired of the reporters, his teammates, and so many others who kept asking or teasing him about his soulmate, whom he still hadn’t met.

Whatever, he was going to take a break and disappear somewhere to rest.

• • • •

However, like the world disagrees with his plan, damn it, why did he have to meet his soulmate now? At this very moment? At this damn time?

sae sighed when he realized that you and him were staring at each other, fuck it.

"I really hate this damn red string," Sae muttered.

• • • •

• POV Change

You were on vacation, trying to avoid something bad from happening.

But, damn it… you ended up meeting your soulmate. Well, it wasn’t too bad since you actually knew who your soulmate was.

"...Itoshi Sae?" you said, raising an eyebrow and then sighing. You stared at him, then sighed again.

Itoshi Sae, a name you were very familiar with. A world-class soccer player who had been famous since he was a child. Who would have thought someone like him would be your soulmate? Yeah, no one would have guessed that.

Sae stared at you with a look of disbelief, but there was also a hint of doubt in his eyes. Something he was trying to hide but failed at. There was an awkward tension in the air between you two. Of course, this meeting was unexpected for Sae, who preferred to avoid anything related to soulmates, especially during stressful times like this.

"You… know who I am?" Sae asked, his voice flat, but there was a slight tension in it. It was hard to tell what was more surprising— the fact that you knew him, or that you were actually his destined soulmate.

You nodded slowly, still a bit confused by the situation. "Yeah, who doesn’t know you? But I’m not sure if I should be happy or even more confused now."

Sae sighed deeply, his eyes briefly closing as if trying to control the emotions rising inside him. "Honestly, I don’t care about soulmates," he said quietly, as if speaking something he wished no one would hear. "I’ve been avoiding it all this time. But why... you? Why now?"

You could feel the frustration held back in Sae’s voice. He clearly wasn’t ready for this meeting, and that was understandable, given the amount of stress his life had been under lately. Since childhood, everything about him had been tied to high expectations, including the issue of soulmates.

But you also couldn’t blame Sae entirely. He was just a regular person who wanted to live his life without all this pressure. "Sae," you started carefully, "I know this is strange, and I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck in this situation. But it’s unavoidable. We’ve been brought together, whether we’re ready or not."

You feel weird saying something like that to someone you just met for the first time, you feel a bit weird, but what can you do? You also can't choose who will be your soulmate.

At least, you need to make him not gonna ignore you. Because if you have found your soulmate, you can't have a relationship—romantic relationship—with anyone else but your soulmate.

Unless, he dies.

Sae looked at you sharply, his expression still full of confusion and irritation. "I don’t know what to do," he said. "Everyone expects me to meet my soulmate, but I don’t care. I just want to live without the pressure."

You nodded, feeling a little hurt seeing how heavy the burden Sae had to bear was. "I understand, Sae. I didn’t ask to meet you like this. But… we have to find a way to deal with it, don’t we?"

At that moment, sae nods, he accepted it, even if it was just a little of acceptance. and you felt his eyes still held some tension. "I don't know what will happen next. But I won't run away. At least… I'll try."

You nodded, feeling a bit relieved even though the awkwardness wasn’t gone yet. But maybe this was the beginning of something unexpected—though both of you felt trapped by this strange fate.

"So, what now?" you asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sae shrugged, as if unsure of what to do next. "I don’t know. But maybe… we could start by talking more. About anything other than soulmates."

You smiled a little, feeling slightly more at ease because he didn’t completely reject the idea. It seemed like this was just the beginning of a journey full of uncertainty—but at least, the two of you could try to walk through it together.

• • • •

As time passed, meeting with Sae didn’t get easier. In fact, the more you met, the clearer it became that Sae was truly difficult to communicate with—especially about anything related to soulmates. He tended to isolate himself and avoid every conversation about it, as if he was trying to shut himself off entirely.

"Do you seriously want to talk to me about this?" Sae asked, narrowing his eyes as if you were the biggest inconvenience in his life. He sat on the chair, relaxed, as if nothing mattered but himself. "I’ve had enough of soulmates. I just want to live a normal life."

You, who had tried to be patient, started to feel frustrated. It felt like talking to a wall. You’d tried to explain that this was fate and that maybe there was a reason why you two had met, but Sae still didn’t care.

"This isn’t about what you want, Sae," you said, your voice rising. "We can’t just ignore reality. I know you’re angry, but I don’t want to be stuck in this either. I’m just trying to make this easier, okay?"

Sae chuckled lightly, but it sounded more like mockery. "Easier? You think this is easy for me? Everyone wants to know about my soulmate, and now you show up with your innocent face, hoping I’ll change my mind? Don’t count on it."

You fell silent for a moment, staring at him in frustration. It felt like he was purposely making everything more complicated. "You’re really annoying, you know that?" you said finally, your voice full of irritation. "I know this is hard, but why fight against fate like this? Why make everything worse?"

'Even if I could choose, I wouldn't choose you.' You thought, annoyed.

Sae glared at you coldly. "Because I’m fed up, that’s why. I don’t want to live under other people’s expectations. I just want to live my life the way I want."

You could hardly hold back your anger. "But your life isn’t just yours, Sae! You’ve got people around you. And me—" you stopped for a moment, trying to calm yourself despite the pounding in your chest. "I’ve been patient enough with your frustrating attitude. Why can’t you be a little more open?"

Sae scoffed, straightening his back and then staring at you with an unreadable expression. "Maybe I’m just tired of all this. Everyone wants me to be something I don’t want to be."

"And what do you want, Sae?" you asked, frustrated. "Do you want to live without burdens? Do you want to escape this reality?"

Sae fell silent for a long time, as if searching for the right answer. Finally, he sighed heavily, as though he was tired of the endless debate.

"I don’t know," he said quietly, softer than before. "I don’t know what to do."

You were surprised to hear his voice so weak, not the usual confident tone he always had. For a moment, everything went quiet, and for the first time, you felt a little sorry for him.

"Don’t overdo it, Sae," you finally said, trying to ease the tension. "We’re both here, and maybe we should start from the beginning—even if it’s weird."

Sae looked at you with a softer expression, though the frustration was still visible on his face. "Maybe you’re right," he said quietly, as if admitting that he couldn’t keep avoiding the truth. "...I guess I need to start seeing this from a different perspective."

But even though his words sounded more open, you knew that the road ahead was still far from easy. Sae still had many barriers within himself to face, and you, though you were getting used to his frustrating attitude, were becoming increasingly annoyed.

Oh, you hope you and sae are getting the fucking better.

THE END.

|| Sae's annoying asses made me wanna kiss him so bad.. no nevermind i hate him rn (liar).

[itsnotmika]

this scene changed the trajectory of my life

[awaywithself]

this is such a rarepair but katasan is so endearing. like two traumatized guys crumbling under the expectations of their families but finding solace in knowing they aren’t the only one struggling. two men who love the people they hold dear so selflessly and so passionately they wouldn’t mind if it cost them their identity, their life, their happiness. au where sanji is engaged to pudding but slowly learns to love katakuri. big mom is happy either way.

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I don’t get why people feel like the Duolingo owl is threatening, if I ever feel like he is I just get mad at him. I could fight an owl. I don’t know if I’d win, but I don’t think I’d lose (two things that can apparently coexist). I think I’d survive at least and that’s not really winning but also not losing.

You wanna be so threatening? Da bør du drepe meg!

[lemonthepotato]

Cringe warning: very bad Esperanto.

Mi povas mergi min en Esperanto čar mi ne faris multe da progreso ekde 2019. Mi kredas mi komencis lerni en 2019, sed mi rezignis dum (por?) unua jaro. Mi rezignis la hispana, la franca, la japana kaj la irlandano čar… nu, estas evidente kial. Tro da lingvoj lerni (por lerni? Lerni sentas malgxuste.)

Sed, mi restis kun la Esperanto(n?) čar gxi estas facila. Mi volas lerni lingvon por la sakeo (that’s… is that seriously the word? Sakeo? I joked once that Esperanto is 80% English words with -o and the end and 15% other languages with o- at the end, but I digress) de lerni lingvon. Homoj diras ke tio estas malbono kialo, sed, kial? Estas amuza… ne estas krimo amuziĝi.

Honeste, mi estis (estis for ‘have been?’ doesn’t feel right…) uzi Google Translate por helpi min, sed ne por lambastono. nur por kontroli se mia gramatiko estas bona. Ne estas, evidente, sed… mi estas nesekura pri gramatiko. Mi scias ke gxi ne estas bona, sed gxi estas probable pli bona ol mi sed mi ne uzis gxin.

Cxiuokaze… mi havas punkton kun ĉi tio; estas malfacila mergi en konlang! Jes, mi povus aligxi servilo de Discord, sed… la embaraso. Mi estus kiel, “Bonvolu… mi estas…” kaj havas furzo de cerba! Cerba furzo? (Googling how to stutter in Esperanto. Great.) (also I’m realising I said bonvolu instead of… oh my god? Am I seriously forgetting hello? Oh, Saluton!)

Cxu mi probable lernu la lingvon de miaj lando, la irlandano? Probable, sed honeste? Neniu parolas la irlandano en la nordo. Ili apenaŭ en la sudo. (Ne estas sude, mi ne zorgas se Google translate diras alie… ne sentas gxusta.)

Cxu mi havas punkto kun cxi tio? Ne. Sed, hej, diras al mi kiel CLAPPED mia Esperanto estas. Kaj, jes, mi eĉ ne provis traduki clapped cxar gxi estas pli amuza al ne.

Mi estas tiel malbona pri Esperanto. Mi devas fidi al tradukistoj por helpo. Mi uzas Google Translate por helpi kun tempoj kaj gramatikoj, sed la vortoj estas plejparte el mia cerbo, se tio havas sencon.

Mi ne havas kialon pri ĉi tio. Mi supozas, ke ĉi tio estas testo de miaj kapabloj. La rezultoj? Tre malbona, sed, hej, mi afiŝos ĉi tio, ĉiuokaze.

Edit: after writing this post, I got an easy, actually video about languages recommended… lol

[hardlypartying]

I’m curious why you decided to end up bad habit with Jiara. Did it make sense to you at the moment? I remember Rafe and Kiara were pretty good living together and then she goes to marry JJ. Torture to all of us Riaras😭 fix my broken heart and pay my therapyyyyy

Hahaha long story short I wrote bad habit at a very strange point in my life and I essentially used it as a form of therapy to work through that period— I was also very sad and cynical and didn’t see another way to end it lol. (Melodrama was on repeat iykyk)

As for the story, Rafe and Kiara were living in this fantasy world where only they existed and it was selfish and unfair to the world around them— even if they found someone who knew them better than they knew themselves. It wasn’t rooted in reality and for a while there they had that, the mundane makings of life and they were content. But I didn’t see that as something feasible for them, to continue isolating. Rafe was shunned by his whole family while Kiara just picked up and left everyone behind. It was a very arrogant move and the only way I could see it working out is if they dug their feet into the ground back home and not let everyone else get to them. But that was never them, they wanted it to be only them far away from anyone to see. Which is cute in theory but you can’t base your entire relationship off that.

The jiara element to that is really a throwaway, it’s finding something familiar and right. There wasn’t even a comparable level of pull that riara had in the fic between jiara no matter how hard I tried. I did feel a certain pressure to make that the endgame but not enough pressure to force my hand, I chose to make that the end to prove the point:

The inverse is that this is a story about knowing when you’re seen and holding onto that, I think very rarely we get an opportunity like that and it’s chaos in good and bad ways but it’s up to you to decide what you make of it. And the two did a brave thing to be together and I’ll never fault them for trying to make it work and finally being honest/allowing that love in. They were both very wounded people who mirrored each other’s hurt in a way that made their own more palatable. And in turn they helped each other heal. It wasn’t conventional at all but I think they’re better for it even if they have to leave the other behind to carry on the lesson they learnt. I feel like the outrage for the last chapter (rather the final paragraphs) is 100% necessary because I want people to read it and take a moment to reflect on the characters and if they related to any part of the story and do what they would’ve wanted from the story rather than the typical/miserable ending. I know it’s just a fic but I’ve found nothing better to kinda get me back on track than fics/books/media where I’m so fucking pissed off at the ending that I keep going out of spite. I wish they got a happy ending, I really do, but it was what I thought was the best for them at the moment and I can’t really find it in myself to deviate from that. I’ve forever got a soft spot for them. I hope this isn’t too much of an emotional answer for you but truth be told this story can’t be untangled from my emotions at the time. I honestly think that’s part of the reason why it reached as many people as it did and that was a hugggeee risk and super vulnerable to put out there.

I always knew I wanted it to have a bittersweet ending and still stand by it! My personal situational aside I’ve always loved an ending that stings a little. But I’ve been chipping away at an alternative ending/future between the two, it is a little sweeter but I don’t want you to get your hopes up because I don’t see myself posting that in the near future. Another part of me is just wondering if I should just let the ending stay that way and not touch it, I don’t want to risk ruining it by adding something else to it if everyone’s moved on haha.

All this is super super super subjective, idk what my feelings will be tomorrow vs today :)

[snirtsnirkarts]

GUY I HAVE INTERNET

Lemme explain! We moved and didn’t have internet and it kept being rescheduled to turn it back on and for some reason because of that Tumblr would NOT let me post anything.

Then when I went to wifi areas I’d forget to post. Although we did just get it on one of my devices it still won’t let me post for whatever reason.

BUT I DID POST A NEW CHAPTER AND WE FINALLY GO AND MEET TO THE HARTWIN FAMILY RESIDENCE!!! Yes I may have posted that chapter in a McDonald’s. But I didn’t really have any other options(I did and this is a lie, I’ve just been to busy to go any other place, but I was hanging out with a sibling so)

ANYWHO WE ARE SO BACK I AM CURRENTLY EDITING THE NEXT CHAPTER WHICH WILL BE THE SHOUT OUTS CHAPTER LET’S GO

[chibishortdeath]

Hmmm I kinda want to make a side blog for RPG Maker game development related things to be able to talk to more experienced people in that community, but at the same time I both don’t really think I’d get much attention and don’t want to accidentally spoil my own game (^^ ; ).

I have a rough story, concept doodles, a tileset, some character sprites, an enemy that walks around but can’t initiate battle yet (if I even decide to have a battle system), a couple rooms with some events, and a functioning run button, but I’m still lost on how to do much else at the moment. Especially since this program has the ability for scripting, meaning I’ll probably have to learn and actually retain another coding language.

So, I’m not very far at all lol. Idk how well that’d go over on the established fandom website, but eh.

[sam-grey]

Who is your current blorbo?

Oooooo, good question. I’ve been in between interests at the moment, but I think between rotating my dnd character in my head like a centrifuge, and a different fictional character, I think Sherlock Holmes barely wins out.

I’ve been making my way through all of the books and he is just Such a Little Guy. He takes up the other 51% of my brain