#idk all i think about lately is loss and sadness and falling out of love

[wewontbesleeping]

hmm thinking about "i've got a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you" in the context not of writing letters addressed to the fire. but of wedding vows. and it's making me sad

[hiraethwrote]

contents : f!reader, containts spoilers, character death, mom!reader (has a son), dealing with loss, angst/slight comfort?, bittersweet, no use of y/n wc 1k an : idk what this is, but i just really love satoru and feel sentimental about him... i am not very happy with it but it's something

“mama, i don’t remember this!”

when you turn to look up, you’re staring directly at a photo you have not seen in a long time. once it sinks in just what picture it is you’re looking at, a soft smile grows on your face before meeting your son’s gaze.

no wonder he was confused, because the slightly crinkled picture he had managed to find wasn’t of him, despite the kid being nearly identical to himself. had it not been for the fact that you knew it wasn’t your son who was staring back at you on the piece of paper, it would have fooled you too.

“‘s because it’s not you, sweetheart,” you smile. “come here,” he doesn’t hesitate to scatter over with tiny steps, before you gently lift him into your lap, resting your head on his shoulder as you look at the picture together.

you had nearly forgotten the picture even existed, hid away with other tokens of your late love.

it was a rather simple picture, one from when satoru was just a child, long before you had the privilege of loving him. standing straight and proud, a young satoru was smiling at you, a toothless grin stretching so far across his face that his eyes were squeezed shut.

“it’s your daddy,” you sigh as your son leans back against you. “i think he’s a little older here than you are know.”

“he looks just like me!” excitement carrying his words.

and he did. same tufts of white hair that were always sticking in every direction. same warm smile that greeted everyone he encountered. same kind eyes that never lied.

“do you miss him?”

you turn to look at him, meeting familiar blue eyes you used to get lost in for hours on end. “every day,” you say simply, a sad smile painting your lips.

never letting your eyes leave your son’s face, you notice how his eyebrows narrow slightly and he turns his attention back to the photo. “i wish i met him.”

“me too, baby.” it came out quiet as a whisper, leaning forward to press a soft peck at his temple. “but he’s not gone gone.”

“what do you mean not gone gone?”

“well,” taking a deep breath, sensing how your eyes slowly started to turn glossy with tears. “he lives on in me, in my memory,” you say softly. “and in you,” grabbing his soft cheeks and rubbing your nose against his, causing a delightful little giggle to fill the space. “and all around.”

“all around?” he asks, the confused line between his brows deepening.

“i like to think so. for example, on sunny days i am sure he’s in the sunlight that kisses your skin, keeping you warm and safe. and you know when the wind is blowing so loud we hear it in the walls?”

“mhm,” he nods enthusiastically.

“i’m sure that’s your dad talking,” you laugh a little to yourself. “my god, how he used to talk. all the time.”

you keep looking for at the picture, reminding you of a time where you were able to enjoy the privilege of his strong arms around you, protecting you from any potential harm. it always amazed you, that despite everything he was put through, he was still soft and kind — truly one of his many brilliant qualities that he hadn’t let the world that was so cruel to him, tarnish him completely.

“he’s also in the rain,” you say, your voice falling back to a whisper when he turns to look at you again. you capture his eyes, trying to force a smile as his big eyes stare back at you with such curiosity. “you know how you’ve sometimes seen mommy just stand outside when it’s raining?” he nods. “i miss your dad more than anything, and it makes me sad sometimes. so when it rains, i like to go outside and feel the little droplets hit my face. i thinks it’s how he shows me he is still here, comforting me. sharing my pain so i don’t feel it on my own.”

you don’t even notice the shy tear that has rolled down your cheek until he reaches his small hand to gently wipe it away. “i don’t want you to be sad,” his voice is so full of compassion, wondering how such a small person could have such a big heart — he got that from satoru too.

“it’s okay to be sad sometimes,” you assure him. “it just proves that all i felt for your dad was real.”

he doesn’t seem to understand it fully, but you can’t blame him. he’s still just a kid after all. but as time pass, he'll grow up, it will all eventually make sense to him.

“mama?”

“yes, baby?”

“you’ve said before you talk to him.”

“yeah, all the time.”

“you think i can talk to him too?” your lips instantly start to tremble in an unsteady smile.

you nod slowly before pulling him closer, pressing your cheek against his. “of course! i think he would be happy to hear you talking to him.”

“where do you think he is now?” the loaded question comes out so innocently, unable to stop how you huff a breath, trying to find the right words that would give an answer a child could comprehend.

“i don’t know,” you said honestly, “but wherever he is, i hope he’s resting. that’s the least he deserves.”

with his eyes on the picture again, he gently wiggles out of your arms. his kindness steers his hand to dry more of your tears, again causing your lips to curve into a small smile.

“if it’s okay, i think i’m going to go talk to dad.”

“say hi to him from me, okay?” he nods, flashing you a grin similar to the one satoru bore in the picture in your hands. and he runs off into the garden, standing in the exact spot you so often find yourself in.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[fatuismooches]

Fragile!reader is a wonderful concept. However, I will NOT let Signora meet them & suffer through that type of loss ever again, therefore I FORBID you fatuismooches from writing them together.. because if you do I’ll most likely break down in tears and start crying because we all know how it’ll end. >:( 💔

Rosalyne, whose suffered through years of grief and sadness from the loss of her late husband, promising to uproot herself from her own flames, finally seeing a chance at love again, a fleeting moment where she can once again be embraced in the arms of someone she holds dear. It would have taken her so long to accept love back into her life, to not fear it and what it’ll bring in the event of tragedy. To welcome back the familiar warmth, just to lose it all once again.. She would never love again.

I think about her and why fragile!reader would be like, but I can’t think of them without being reminded of how devastating it will be if they were to ever meet and fall in love.

Signora isn’t Dottore. She can’t prolong your lifespan or give you the adequate healthcare. 😞

I love my pookie Dottore like A LOT, but there’s something about a widowed woman falling back in love with someone who’s time is already limited, that you just can’t beat..

It’s 1am and I have tests tmrw but I NEEDED to get this out, there’s so much more I want to say about Signora and fragile!reader but I can’t likeee, IDK,,explain it better 😭💔💔

Hello webttcre, i totally didn't write this and this where Signora loses you!! 😂😂 (Also i hope you did good on your exams!! but don't go to sleep so late it's bad for you!! 😡)

BUT YES. Signora is such a sad character, Rosalyne is even more heart-breaking. When her husband died she swore to herself never to love again, never to place her arms around another nor to let them embrace her, just... never again. She cannot let herself go through that pain again... she was already so hurt by Rostam, that the pain it will be the second time would be... unimaginable. Well, that's what she promises herself, but she ends up breaking it when she meets you. It's as they say. When you're in love, you're in love. You can try to deny it, run from it all you like but, it won't stop it... Signora can't stop herself from loving you. So after a lot of time, a lot of reassurance and comfort from you, she lets herself fall in love again. You quell her flames but you keep her from freezing over... it's a perfect match.

But things never last long for sinners like her. The Gods never favored her, did they? It's always the right person, but never enough time. Signora though that this second chance would be the right one, the one that would end in happiness and not heartbreak... but your illness shattered all hopes of that. It's not your fault of course, no never, Rosalyne would never blame you. But she can't help but loathe at the hand she's been dealt in his life, to be cursed to lose the only two people she ever gave a damn about. She spends all the time she can with you but, as she sees you withering away and inevitably leaving her, she alternates between pure flames and pure ice. Pure anger and pure emptiness.

Rosalyne should have never let you get close to her... her love always ends in tragedy. :(

[missmonsters2]

today I feel awful... idk my insecurities are taking over me and I just want to curl into a ball and cry. maybe it's my hormones maybe the fact that I weighted myself and found out I gained weight (I can't fit into my jeans 😭) and the fact that I saw my sister in a tight skin dress looking perfect while I'm in my pj's just destroyed my confidence. I need something angsty to read to make me forget about my sad, miserable lffe right now. would you be down in writing sth angsty with nat maybe? you don't have to though. it's fine either way. I really appreciate all of your work and I keep reading on repeat whenever I'm feeling down. makes me cheer up. thank you, van ❤️

It's like we're the same person because I also went to visit my sister recently and my sister has gotten her life together and is living her best hot girl bod while I...let's not go there.

I just want you to know that you're hot as fuck and a body is just a body that we can change with time and effort. We're lit rally in this together. This time next year, we will be rocking the body that makes up happy and we'll be healthy!!! 💘💘

But I will still give you nat angst...but with a happy ending bc I said you deserve a HEA!!

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The Withers of Springtime Bloom

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spring is a time of blooming and when things come back to life. You can't help but notice things that may be causing your relationship with Natasha to wither.

Warnings: self-esteem issues, insecurities about body, relationship with working out and food, seasonal depression. angst with HEA.

Count: 2.1k~

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You're not sure when things changed.

Things change so slowly after all.

Without you noticing, things change and change and change until one day, you do notice.

You notice that Natasha has become quieter, somber.

You notice the lack of date nights and affectionate touches.

You notice that you've let yourself go a little.

You're standing in front of the mirror, staring at your body with a frown. You've gained weight since dating Natasha, but relationship weight gain was normal, wasn't it?

But you remember how Natasha was just as fit as she was before she met you. Sure, she was a superhero, and you were a regular civilian; there was no reason for you to train long hours as Natasha did.

Still...

You turn to the side and peer at yourself in the mirror again.

You can't help but wonder...were you becoming less attractive to her?

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It had been the beginning of fall when you met Natasha. You loved the season of change and when things turned into warm colors before withering away for winter to come.

Natasha had come like a blessing, and in the winter, she was just warm as the colors of fall. Instead of withering away, she bloomed and invested that warmth in your relationship with her.

Despite always being an early riser to work out, weekends were the days she stayed in bed with you just a little longer. There had been so many breakfasts, lunch, and dinner dates. You found yourself moving things around or neglecting to work around her busy schedule.

Perhaps that was when things began to change. Eating out so often and forgoing working out to spend time with Natasha was what led to this.

Spring has arrived, and things are coming back to life. Yet somehow, your relationship with Natasha was withering away.

"Hey," you greet her as you come home, shopping bags in hand. You bought some more clothes when things felt like they didn't fit comfortably anymore. The experience had been upsetting for you, and you didn't end up buying too much, telling yourself you didn't want to spend too much when you were going to lose the weight.

Natasha was working in her office, peering down over reports, and barely acknowledged you other than with a hum.

"Long day?" You ask her as you put your things away and walk over to her.

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "Trying to get these reports done since Maria needs them tomorrow."

That had been Natasha's excuse for spending long hours in her office every night for the last two weeks.

You place your hand on Natasha's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, but she leans to the side as if to readjust herself, but still away from your touch.

The sting immediately comes, but you try to push it down, so it doesn't hurt as bad.

"Right," you say hoarsely, but Natasha stares on at the reports. "I'm just going to get ready for bed. It's been a long day and all. Let me know if you need anything."

Natasha gives you a nod as you leave the room. You feel awkward as you lie in the bed you share with her. You wonder if you're taking up too much space.

There's a pang of something as you try to curl yourself to be smaller and only distantly realizing you've skipped dinner before you fall asleep.

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You fall back onto the mat, chest heaving and your lungs burning.

It's been a while since you've worked out, and now you're definitely paying for it with how unfit you are.

The gym is moderately empty with the hour it is. You hate going to a public gym because it always feels like someone is staring, but it's better for strangers to stare than working out at the Compound for people you know to stare at you.

The rational part of you knows that you should just talk to Natasha, but the emotional side of you whispers that you won't like what Natasha has to say, that she might even end it before you've had a chance to change yourself.

When weeks pass, and you weigh yourself again, you almost start crying because you've only lost a couple of pounds.

It's normal, you know it is. You're losing weight at a normal rate, but it's not enough. You know fast weight loss wouldn't make sense for your body but you also feel you don't have half a year to go back to your normal weight.

You sit on the bathroom floor for hours, debating what to do when you hear a quiet knock.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" Natasha's muffled voice comes through.

You wipe at your eyes furiously as you stand up.

"Y-Yeah," you answer back. "I'm just in the tub soaking."

There's a moment of silence through the door before Natasha answers back, "Alright. Enjoy yourself. Did you want me to order anything specific for dinner?"

"No, it's okay," you tell her. "You order anything you want. I already ate on my way home." You think about the chicken salad you've been eating for the past two weeks and almost sigh.

Natasha answered that she just came back to see if you've eaten, but she actually had to head back to the Compound. You were Natasha shuffling around before leaving through the front door, and you let out the breath you were holding.

You actually take a long, hot shower before putting on sweats and a big hoodie.

The truth was, you were hungry. The chicken salad was okay on the way home, but it had been a couple of hours since.

You knew starving yourself wasn't the answer, so you went into the kitchen to see if you could find something healthy to hold you over until you could go to bed.

But you can't find anything in the fridge except for Natasha's leftovers from whatever she ordered the day before. You can't find anything except frozen pizzas and microwavable foods.

You check the calories on the back and let out a frustrated sigh. Checking your watch, you realize it's too late in the evening to go grocery shopping because, by the time you get there, stores will have closed.

You slump down on the floor, leaning against the cabinets as you let out a pathetic whimper while your eyes became hot with tears.

You miss Natasha. You want Natasha holding you and telling you it would be okay. But you couldn't have that until you were back to what you were when you met her.

The front door suddenly opens.

"Have you seen my—sweetheart?" Natasha started to call before she noticed you sitting on the floor. "What's wrong?"

You use your sleeve to wipe at your eyes as you sit up straight.

"Nothing," you sniffle before you start to stand. "I just stubbed my toe against the edge of the kitchen island. What were you looking for? USB? You left it next to the bedside."

Natasha stares at your back, hair still wet as she takes in your attire.

"It's a little hot to be wearing a hoodie and sweats, isn't it?" Natasha asks softly. "Doesn't seem like you turned on the aircon in here."

You keep walking, but Natasha starts to follow you.

"'m cold," you say quietly so she can't hear the tremble in your voice.

"Are you feeling sick?" Natasha asks with concern as you sit down on the couch, turning on the TV. You pull the blanket over you as if to make your point.

"No," you tell her because you don't want her to worry. "Just cold after a bath."

Natasha sets her things down before she takes a seat next to you. Even in the low lighting, she can see your eyes rimmed red and dampness of them.

You're refusing to look at her as you have your knees drawn up to your chest and stare stubbornly at the TV screen.

Then she hears it.

Your stomach grumbles.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" Natasha asks softly again. "We can just order food and stay in tonight."

Your cheeks grow hot. "Don't you have to be at the Compound?"

You don't mean to snap at her, but you can't help but feel embarrassed.

Natasha remains quiet for a moment, quickly thinking over the last few weeks before she feels guilt trickle in.

She doesn't remember the last time she ate with you—doesn't remember the last time she saw you eat.

"Sweetheart," she calls you gently again, and you bristle at the tone. "Is there something wrong?"

The fragile dam you've built to keep the weeks of compiling emotions at bay breaks, and you're hurtling down the stream over the waterfall.

"Are you not in love with me anymore?" You choke out as you begin to cry.

You can't even register to feel horrified at your breakdown because you just need to know.

"I know...I know my body has changed since we first met and I've gained weight but I really am trying to lose it. I just—I feel like you're avoiding me. At first, I thought things at work have been really stressful for you, and I wanted to give you space but you're gone all the time. You're gone even when you're here."

Natasha can barely understand anything you've said after hearing you say the first part. Her breath hitches painfully in the back of her throat, and she legitimately feels appalled at herself.

She starts to say something, but you keep going.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to make this about me because if you're going through something then I want to support and be there for you. But I can't help but feel like you're grossed out by me. I mean—I feel grossed out when I look at myself. I feel like I'm taking up so much space—"

Natasha cuts you off abruptly, pulling off the blanket as she pulls at you until you're in her lap.

"Nat—"

"You're not gross and this is not about the weight you have or have not gained. You hear me?" Natasha says forcefully as she holds you close to her, hand over your thigh to keep you against her.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry if I've been making you feel like you're not attractive me," Natasha's eyes well up as your tears wet her shoulder. "You're literally still the most gorgeous person I've ever met and you're always going to be that to me."

Natasha's hand at your waist dips underneath your hoodie, her fingers trailing up your back as she sighs at your warmth. "I should've told you, but the springtime is just really hard for me. It's odd because it's a time for things to come back to life but some of the worst things have happened to me during the spring and things blooming makes me think about things that aren't coming back. I think it's also just a little bit of seasonal depression too. I'm just the rare percentage that gets it in the spring."

The explanation makes your body sag with relief because while you feel so horrible that there is a reason Natasha doesn't like spring, she's not falling out of love with you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I was hurting you," Natasha apologizes again. "I didn't mean to be so distant but I didn't want to bring your mood down as well, which is why I've been working so much to keep busy."

"It's okay," you muttered as your turn your head, forehead pressed against her neck. "I'm sorry spring is depressing for you."

Natasha merely hushes you as she kisses the side of your head.

You begin to feel awkward, thinking about how you must be heavy on her and try to move, but Natasha doesn't let you.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how to convince you that you're perfect to me," Natasha says so seriously as she forces you to look at her. "If you want to lose weight because that is what you want, then I support you. But I need you to understand that I love you no matter what. I don't care either way because you're so fucking lovely to me always. Do you understand?"

Timidly, you reply, "Okay. Thank you."

Natasha presses her lips against yours in a long kiss before she pulls back.

"Now, I'm going to ask again. Are you hungry? We can order in and watch that new show on Netflix I heard was pretty good from Wanda."

You feel lighter. You think you might still want to work out because that would make you happy, but you don't feel the rush like you did just a couple of hours ago.

"Yeah," you say shyly. "But maybe something not so heavy?"

Natasha nods as she presses another kiss into your cheek as she helps you settle onto the couch right beside her to grab her phone.

"Anything to make you bloom."

[whaleofatjme1920]

Ok so Ik this has already been done with ej, but I’m a toby simp, and I wanted to ask. Reader finding out toby is cheating on them? Maximum of 1k words, a scenario idk, smth. Ty!

-👾

It's Dangerous, To Love the Sun

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: angst in general, physical and emotional cheating, violence, language]

[AN: I listened to Brooksie - Not Into You slowed + reverbed while writing this, I hope you enjoyed! Also went a lil over,,, the word count because I kinda liked this,,,,,,,,,,,]

You love Toby. Ever since he came into your life, you’ve been happier with him at your side. He makes you smile, he makes your heart sing. You’ve never felt so complete.

The way he looks at you is akin to gazing at a masterpiece. His eyes are so full of love when he gazes at you from across the room, wondering when you’ll finally break away from your conversation with Jeff to be at his side again.

His touch is gentle, never harsh. Toby’s fingers trace up and down your forearms and back, ghosts, whisper-like kisses of physical affection in an attempt to show you what he verbally cannot express. He’s always so warm, so loving, so whole.

He completes you, is what you’re trying to get at.

The two of you like to sit on rooftops late at night because neither Masky nor Hoodie can stand the two of you giggling at odd hours of the day in their presence. Kate’s not around long enough to actually care. When it’s just the two of you sitting up here, quiet, against each other and breathing in the sweet night air, you feel more complete than you’ve ever felt before.

You hum out, watching the stars twinkle in the sky, a dreamy expression on your face as Toby momentarily stops playing with your hair.

“What’s o-o-on your mind, b-baby?” He asks, a brow raised. Toby shifts on the shingles, his arms wrapping around you like an octopus, bringing you closer and closer into his warmth.

You find yourself blanketed in him and relax. “You’re so good to me, y’know that?” You say.

Toby scoffs and rolls his eyes. “O-Other way around,” he corrects.

You tilt your head and shake it slightly, telling him he’s wrong. “You’ve always been so good to me,” you continue, brushing off his attempts to play down your saccharine words.

He knows you’re not fibbing, but at the same time, he refuses to admit to your claims. “I d-d-did what w-was expected o-of me, you know t-that,” he states plainly.

You take in another deep breath before resting your head on his shoulder, melting into him. You pick up his scent: oak and burning winter, before retorting against him again in a voice a hair above a whisper. “You’re wrong.”

Toby laughs, his lips pressing to the side of your head. “If y-y-you say so,” he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your head and eventually your face. He revels in the sound of your laughter as he does so, leaving no inch of you unkissed.

“I know so.”

The two of you fall back into a pleasant silence.

You’ve always viewed Toby like he has power over the sun, because, as far as being a proxy goes? He does. When you were first plucked from your life and called for something ‘greater’, it was Toby who had taken pity on you, trained you, taught you all you needed to know and the ins and outs of this life. He was the one who shielded you from Masky, Hoodie and even Kate at times.

It was by his hand that you survived, and it is still by his hand that you thrive.

It was such a blinding adoration for a man you believed held dominion over the sun that kept you veiled from the truth of what he had been doing behind closed doors, yet could be seen through the windows.

Naturally, you didn’t want to believe it. Who would? The person you love’s heart has fled the place it used to live with you and taken up residence with someone else. That’s not an easy thing to admit, not when you realize that love truly is not all it takes.

Toby doesn’t want to admit it either. It started out as some strange infatuation, a fleeting crush - someone he would forget.

But her eyes? Her darling eyes? One of them the most beautiful shade of peridot he’d ever seen and the other a literal clock? They say the eyes (in her case, eye) are the window to the soul, and she had absolutely snared his. She was beautiful in a way Toby couldn’t describe, beautiful in a way that had him seeing a sky full of stars in the middle of the day, and beautiful in the sense she was timeless.

Toby knows he should be ashamed, that she’s his little secret, that what he has with Natalie can’t be compared with you, but he knows he can’t let you find out lest you go too far you can’t come back.

That blinding sun made you shrug off the bruises that were too keenly placed to be a victim’s sorry attempt at freeing themself. You shrugged off the scent of roses and wine. You shrugged off how his eyes saw past you, no longer at you. You shrugged it all off, choosing to stay blinded than face the truth.

And you would’ve happily lived in that ignorance if Toby didn’t grow cocky and arrogant and so fucking careless.

You’ve never really felt your world crash and burn until today. You've never been burned by the sun until this moment.

You’re looking into the eyes of a man you think owns the sun and see nothing but fear, regret, and pleading. Pleading for what? That you won’t leave him? That you’ll stay with him? You feel tears well in your eyes as you see him laying in your bed with her. The woman who had been naught but a shadow until now.

“R-Reader,” Toby begins, quickly wrestling up in the sheets, watching as your soul leaves your body in the doorway. “B-Baby, it’s n-no-”

You’re at a loss for words, and frankly, you don’t think he even deserves the right to your thoughts at this moment. Instead, you hold your hand up, silencing him, and turn to leave the temp house. You were out doing work for your fucking boss and get rewarded like this? The man you loved in bed with another woman, looking at her like she owned the moon. You take in a sharp breath and then begin to beeline to the front door when Toby finally gets out of the bed, ignoring the cries of confusion pouring from Natalie’s mouth.

Your heart races when you realize Toby is gaining on you. Your vision blurs through your tears.

He’s calling out for you, his stutter even stronger than before, bones popping louder and louder as he gets hit with the weight of what he’s done to you. “Stop! S-Stop fucking m-m-moving!” He hisses, his calloused hand reaching out for your wrist, successfully grabbing you.

You snarl like a caged, wounded animal, flesh burning at the contact. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you sneer as you attempt to rip your wrist from his iron grasp. In your other hand, you already have the car keys ready. You just want to be anywhere but here.

“I-I’m so s-s-sorry,” Toby says, attempting to pull you into a hug.

You struggle against him harder, hissing to be let go. The keys in your free hand are getting threaded in your fingertips. Your tears feel warm and boil your cheeks as they roll down like waterfalls. The harder he grips you, the more you feel you’ve been burned to a point of no return. “God fucking damn it, let me go!” You shout, not even noticing how Natalie has come out of the room to get Toby off of you. She’s quickly gaining in the hallway, confused on if she should step in or not.

Toby tries harder and harder to pull you into his embrace, and that’s when you strike.

You take your car key filled fingers and punch as hard as you can, the teeth of the keys dragging across Toby’s cheek, successfully shocking him into letting you go. You don’t even consider how badly you’ve hurt him and take the opportunity of his shock to flee the temp house, quickly hopping into the car.

“Reader!” Toby shouts, hand on his right cheek, not even caring about the claw marks you’ve left. “B-Baby, let’s t-talk about t-this-”

You start honking the horn to drown his voice out. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a scowl on your face, glare holding nothing but bullets towards Toby and Natalie as she attempts to wrangle him back into the house.

You watch as her arms wrap around his waist - she’s surprisingly gentle for dealing with such a belligerent man - before peeling out of the driveway, hand still honking the horn and practically waking up the neighborhood while you’re at it.

Your mind overloads as you drive, thoughts of the sun getting eclipsed by the other celestial body that overtakes it in full, swallowing it whole. You mutter angrily to yourself, turning on the radio for just noise as you finally get onto the expressway. And you drive. You drive until your head feels clear again, and when it does, you’re finally able to focus on something other than what’s in front of you on the endless stretch of road.

Autumn is making its way in, that much is apparent. Every now and then, specks of orange and red zip past your high beams. It’s cooler, and you swear you’ve passed a few flowering pumpkin patches.

You look to your left, gazing out the window for a moment or so.

The moon is decidedly absent this night.

You sigh as the fires extinguish in your heart, loneliness, sadness and any other emotion draining alongside it leaving a pit in your chest.

The emptiness quickly takes its place, haunting you like the ghost it is.

[saintflint]

top 5 memories (that's you're comfortable sharing ofc)

this took me so long to narrow down, but in the end i chose moments i haven’t really thought about in a long time <3

1: more recently, sometime last fall i think, my sister and her daughter and i all went to the beach together. it was late afternoon and the day was grey and misty so the water was that comforting silver and the waves were so gentle. i rolled up my pants as much as i could (they kept falling down no matter what i did) and jumped in, kicking the water up at myself and splashing loudly. nothing particularly special or significant about that day except that i laughed so much while i was there with them, longer than i had in a long time.

2: my childhood best friend pulling me into a “tango” and dancing with me in the hallway of our highschool homeschooling site. so many of my memories with him are tinged with sadness since we don’t talk anymore but that moment was so random, so stupid and silly (i don’t even remember what he said except that i was laughing the whole time) that i can look back on it with a smile instead of with loss.

3: my college solo workshop. the assignment was to pick a song and sing it before the entire class (over 50 students at least) and then work through it in front of them with the instructors. that year was a year that i was still so extremely self conscious about myself (the year i came out as bi actually) and i remember being so nervous and frustrated with myself while i was up there for most of it. but as i finished the song for the last time, i just looked down and sang to my friends and they were all smiling so wide at me, all of them. when i finished, the whole room stood and applauded and i crumpled over, covering my face and crying while they cheered. when i got off the stage, i immediately ran straight into the arms of my closest friend there and crush at the time and he practically lifted me up as he hugged me and whispered, “there you are.” it was one of first times i truly felt seen and i was happy to be.

4: mid-2020, my siblings and my dad and our closest friend (practically the big brother i never had) dale all went down to a creek near our house. it was super full and the water was so clear and everything was so green and golden. it was kinda busy so me and dale went ahead to the very end, the water all the way past our knees and dramatically humming the lord of the rings theme out loud the whole time as he worked our way over slippery rocks and huge branches. we found so many cool rocks and idk it was just such a peaceful, good time.

5: last year, so many moments with my last preschool class before moving on to my current job. that place had a lot of downsides, the biggest being i couldn’t be transparent as my truest self, but i loved my two year-olds and they loved me and saw me as i really am the whole time. one of the best moments of them all though, my student faith was sitting with me in the afternoon and telling me that she thought another teacher was “so beautiful,” and i asked her teasing if she thought i was beautiful too. and very seriously she answered no, but that i was handsome like a prince.

[liyuesbian]

✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

[oogaboogasphincter]

Goodbye Summer (Frankie Morales x gn!reader)

Summary: As autumn looms, you reminisce about the summer you spent with Frankie and his daughter, Tali. 

Word Count: 1.2k+

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: couple of mentions of heavy petting, one or two allusions to sex bc i just had to (nothing explicit), food mention/eating (also can food be a love language? bc if so i think i just discovered one of mine💀), no use of pronouns, no beta reader, other than that just vibes📚🌤💐🍓🌊🏝☔️🎣🪱🐟🍆🫑🦦💜🧢

Author's Note: this is my first frankie fic! idk what this is, and i don't even really like summer (it's actually my least favorite season💀), but i got into a ✨mood✨ and figured i'd just spew some descriptive bull. i hope you enjoy! :)

gif by @trashcora

The hot, sluggish character of a late summer breeze cascades over your exposed back. You’re lying on your chest, parallel to Frankie; rare dry blades in the mushy grass poke you here and there from underneath your picnic blanket. You are both reading, turning pages that have been softened by the lingering humidity, finding solace in the slowness and quiet of the afternoon.

Summer is coming to an end. Preparations of its departure can be felt and seen all around: leaves have lost their electric green and have begun to turn chartreuse, vacationers have deserted their destinations in favor of their permanent homes, the sun falls below the skyline earlier in the day.

You had spent the summer with Frankie and his daughter, Natalia, Tali for short. You lay with him now next to one of the products of the season: a garden you had planted with his baby girl. The tiered petals of a zinnia catch your eye, the thick stem allowing little movement from the breeze, and you can’t help but reminisce about all of the activities that occupied your little family for the past few months.

Summer had begun with the creation of the garden, courtesy of Natalia. Her crayons had scribbled across a page and gave life to an amalgamation of flora. Being her young age, she couldn’t identify the specific kinds, her drawings a generic purple splat and misshapen pink circles. You and Frankie decided to take her picture as a blueprint and tried your best to find flowers that matched hers. Although she was the definition of disappointment when the garden was planted and it was nothing but lines of sown seeds, her happiness bloomed as the flowers did. Her favorites were the ageratums and begonias, near-perfect translations of her imagination.

You and Frankie had also partaken in your own kind of sowing seeds. Raspberries were in season and are his favorite fruit (you tease that’s because they’re soft, sweet and whiskery, like he is). You, him and Tali made a day of visiting a farm and picking them off of their bushes. Frankie would hold Natalia up, allowing her to pick the ones most kissed by the sun, and she would carefully plop them into the basket you held up to her. 

After Tali had been put to bed, you got to work on making a raspberry tart, the kitchen utensils still a little too dangerous for her to handle. Frankie reminded you of one of the most important steps of cooking: testing your ingredients. He had pushed some berries into your mouth, his rebuttal to your scolding of him continuously popping them into his mouth, warning that you wouldn’t have enough to make the dessert. What began as an innocent swipe of his thumb across your chin to catch some dribbling juice quickly became a gardening session: you shared the microscopic seeds, your tongues dispersing them in each other’s mouths amongst the rows of your tastebuds. Garnet stains donned your lips for the remainder of the evening. 

Painting each other with magenta splotches wasn’t the only way you had gotten dirty this summer. On beach trips, the ocean’s breath had found its way into your hair, tangling it with salt. Stray seaweed found on the shore and in the water clung to your skin, and after peeling it off it reminded you where it had been with a slimy outline. Grains of sand were ground into your knees and shins as you built grand sandcastles with Tali, with Frankie providing backstory of a make-believe kingdom while he sat back and admired. When washing the sand off in the ocean before embarking on the journey home, Frankie administered some playful pushes and shoves to you, which you returned right back to him. It wasn’t rare for the three of you to have been dunked in the water at least once by the time your seatbelts had been secured with wet hands and damp towels wrapped your bodies, growing colder the closer you got to home. 

Given the overall sporadic nature of the season, water didn’t always behave at your discretion. Thankfully, most days that had been consumed by downpours and trapped you in the house were ones where Tali was visiting her mom, sparing her from uneventfulness. While you might not have been in the sun or running around trying to catch the little girl, you and Frankie found ways to work up a sweat. Lightning bolts illuminated the dark corridor of a hallway, revealing a trail of discarded clothes leading from the living room to your bedroom. Steady thunder drowned out knocks of the bedframe against the wall and mutual moans of passion. 

When Tali was around, you thought it important to give her some alone time with her dad. One of her favorite things to do with Frankie was fishing. From your kitchen window, a semi-murky lake could be seen, a spot that the duo frequented for fishing. You would gaze past the gauzy curtains and watch Frankie bait their hooks, help Tali cast her line and then celebrate with her when, after reeling back in, a small minnow was attached to the end of the rod. The ripples of water that followed the fish after Frankie and Tali released them never failed to make her giggle. 

The smell of fish didn’t hit you while you watched Frankie and Tali fishing from afar, but it infiltrated your senses at the Millers’ house when they held cookouts. The wafting smoke of the grilled fish and sweet peppers made your eyes tear, the thick aroma of Pope’s eggplant parmesan made your mouth water. You and Frankie ate separate dishes, but - like the raspberry incident - you ended up tasting every one of the items by way of Frankie’s tongue in your mouth.

The end of summer makes you feel melancholic, as it signifies the end of all of these memories. Sure, their details will be locked away in your mind and available for revisiting at any time you please, but sadness is inevitable as the little things fade away from reality.

Hours spent in the sun had dappled the peaks of Frankie’s skin with caramel freckles: the curve of his shoulders, the bridge of his nose, his temples.

You had grown accustomed to the unwavering heat and blinding light beating down from the sun daily. Lightweight fabrics and shorter hemlines comprised both of your closets.

Sourness of berries and the spice of seasoned vegetables stayed on your tongue, in your nose and down your throat. The exchanging of these flavors with Frankie was an even more delectable memory. 

Reaching over and running your fingers up the column of Frankie’s throat reminds you of the things that will stay once summer passes.

While the spots gifted by the sun will fade, his moles will remain in the constellations that they always make, regardless of the time of year.

His facial hair may grow to be scruffy instead of stubbly, in an effort to trap some warmth during the upcoming colder months. But the soft skin that sprouts such hair will remain velvety and undeniably Frankie. 

The unconditional and undying love your heart holds for Frankie and Natalia will remain strong and deep, as the days, months, years, lifetimes go by.

With all of this in mind, the end of summer doesn’t seem like so much of a gigantic loss, but rather a sentimental conclusion to a fun-filled period of time. Moving into autumn doesn’t seem so scary anymore, with your shared love for each other surely producing months that will be just as invigorating as summer was.

Frankie folds his book over the swell of his belly with a crinkle and turns to face you, those chocolatey eyes timeless. He signals that he’s ready to proceed to the fall with you and his baby girl, “What do you think Tali should be for Halloween?”

💘taglist: @pascalpanic​ 

[spideymarvelws]

i love your writing, hope you’re doing well 💞 could i request something where tom asks y/n’s dad for marriage permission and then flash forward to the proposal?

I changed up a few things I hope you don’t mind!

Also i kinda wanna do a social media version but idk i think it would be fun

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglist

Warnings : some cursing, suggestive themes, nothing but floof and happiness

Word Count : 3.5k

Smiles and Pure Happiness

Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Tom laid silently with your weight on half of his body. One of his hands supported the back of his head on the soft mattress while the other held you tightly against his bare body, keeping your warmth as close as possible. Your legs were tangled together beneath the sheets that only covered the both of you from the waist down, the rest of it spread across the floor.

You’d fallen asleep hours ago. After some lazy sex to ‘try out the new bed’ in your hotel room, you passed out almost immediately. The flight was exhausting, and with the time difference he wasn't surprised to hear the little snores coming out of your slightly parted lips as soon as your face hit the pillow.

But for the life of him he couldn't fall asleep with you.

No matter how much time he spent shutting his eyes, waiting for his body to relax, it never would. He constantly changed his position with the limited movement he had to maybe find a more comfortable spot but nothing. He even got up to close the curtains and grab his earpods to play some relaxing music but it didn't help in the slightest.

He just couldn’t stop thinking.

Today was the day, the big day where he would finally ask you the question that had been floating in his mind for the past months. The day he would bend down on his knee, pull out the ring he’d been keeping in the back of his closet and propose to you.

He already had everything planned out, whatever you wanted to do after you woke up he would go along with until it was sunset. From there, he would take you for a stroll on the docks nearby, maybe buy some ice cream to waste some time if needed.  Harry and the rest of his family, including yours, should be set up in a hut alongside the beach, hidden from the spot he would propose so they could take pictures and celebrate with you.

But what if he didn’t reach the spot in time for sunset? What if he messed up and stopped a few feet short so Harry couldn't film everything properly? What if you didn’t want to go to the beach at all? What if you wanted to go to the hot tub or the rooftop?

What if you rejected him, what if you said no?

Despite five years spent together, even more as friends and even having discussions about marriage, he still felt the doubt that you would say no. That you would run as soon as he pulled the ring out.

He looked down at your sleeping face squished against his chest, clueless to the turmoil happening in his head. He wanted this, he wanted to be able to go out and call you his wife, he wanted you to show off the diamond on your ring to the people who asked. He wanted to take this next step with you.

He just hoped you felt the same.

You shifted around, rustling the sheets as you cuddled closer to his chest, your face scrunching up when you nuzzled your cheek against his skin. He raised his hand to your back, his fingers walking up and down your spine. You hummed, letting out a big yawn as you mumbled some incoherent words.

“You’re going to need to speak up if you want me to hear you love,” he whispered, kissing the crown of your head as you moved around even more.

“I said i’m tired but I don't want to go back to sleep,” you sniffed, tracing random patterns on his chest, “That and I’m hungry,”

Tom chuckled, “Well you could’ve just started with that,” he rested his cheek on the top of your head, “We could order room service if you’d like,”

“Meh,” you raised your head to look up at him, “I wanna get out of the room for a while,” 

“Well, in that case...” He reached over to grab the pamphlet he took from the front desk when he checked the both of you in. 

Leaning back up against the bed frame with a sigh, he raised his arm for you to settle against his thigh with the new change in position. He rested his hand on your stomach while you played with the edges of the blanket that wrapped around your body like second skin.

“There's a buffet happening at six in the lobby,” he squinted his eyes as he read over the tiny writing, “That’s in like thirty minutes, we could get ready in that time,”

He groaned when you started to giggle, lowering the piece of paper to look at you.

“What is it?” he playfully flicked the top of your head.

You stifled your laughter with your hand, “This is why you don’t forget your glasses on the plane,” you smiled up at him with hooded eyes, “Such a sad loss for us all,”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,”

“Hey, I offered to get you knew ones before we left but you were too much in a rush,” you poked his stomach, “You really wanted to get here quickly,”

He let out a deep breath, laughing off your words. He remembered rushing you out the airport, practically dragging you throughout the building and pushing you into the car he rented for the trip. You found it amusing while he was freaking out that he might not reach the hotel in time and mess up the entire schedule.  

“Yeah, well, I’m in need of a vacation after filming so many movies back to back,”

You hummed, sitting up to straddle his waist, something you always did when you wanted to talk to him directly with no distractions. Your arms went to wrap around his shoulders, pulling his chest against yours. He put his hands on your hips out of instinct, blowing a strand of hair that decided to fall in his eyes that moment.

“That you are,” you said, pushing the brown lock behind his ear before leaning in to kiss his neck, “So stop being so tense baby,” you mumbled, trailing your lips up his jaw to the corner of his lips, “We have a week all to ourselves, no work, nobody to interrupt us and a beautiful view everywhere we go,” you quickly pecked his lips, smiling widely when he chased them as your pulled away.

“And I couldn’t be happier,” he sighed, leaning in to press his lips fully against yours, sighing when they made contact. His biggest source of comfort were your lips, soft and plush against his skin. His neck, his cheek, his forehead, he didn't care, as long as they were on him, he was at peace.

“As much as I would love to makeout with you,” you giggled, pulling away and hopping out of his lap, “We have a buffet to get ready for,”

“The buffet isn't going anywhere!” he whined, crossing his arms and pouting like a child.

Maybe he was stalling, just a little, but he didn't want to leave bed just yet. If things went well, this might be the final night he would be able to call you his girlfriend, instead his fiancé which wasn’t a bad thing, it just all felt so surreal. That and he didn’t like that you were putting back on some fresh panties from your suitcase, covering your body from his view.

You rolled your eyes, walking back over to him and placing a gentle kiss on his nose. Grabbing his hand you pulled him out of the bed, groaning when his heavy mass crashed into you, nearly knocking you down but his arms wrapped around you just in time, keeping you pressed against his chest.

“Can’t we stay just a bit longer,” he began kissing the corner of your mouth, trailing his lips down your jaw and to the side of your neck where he began biting and sucking at the skin. He smirked when you let out a tiny moan, your hands moving from his chest and squeezing at his shoulders.

After a few more seconds, you finally caved.

“Okay fine, ten more minutes and then we leave okay?”

He beamed at your words, picking your up by the waist and throwing your back on the bed. You giggled as he crawled over you, locking his lips back on to yours, his hands moving up and down your body, caressing the soft skin.

Maybe being late to the buffet wouldn't mess up his plan too much...

…

“What would you like to ask me Tom?” Your father questioned him as he handed him a glass of water.

Tom gulped down the water, hoping that it would calm his nerves but it only added to his stress. He’s spent years as an actor, memorizing lines and whole scripts by memory to recite in front of a large group of people and yet he was speechless in front of your own father.

“I-” he let out a deep breath, “It’s concerning Y/n,”

Your father crossed his arms, leaning back on the kitchen counter with a serious face, “Continue,”

“I’m going to ask her to marry me,”

It was silent after that. He watched as your father began to process his words, what scared him more was the unidentifiable look on his face.

Until he sighed, passing his hand over his face.

“I’ve meet a lot of people my daughter has decided to date, but your different,” he sighed, almost as if he didn't want to say those words, “But I’ve never seen her this happy in a while, and that’s all i ever want for my little girl,” he slapped a hand on his back, “And if it’s you that makes her happy, then go for it. I’d be proud to welcome you into our family,”

Tom glanced at you through the mirror, watching as you smiled brightly at your reflection. You caught him staring, blowing him a kiss and walking back into the bathroom, most likely to fix up the minor flaws you pointed out. 

He palmed the box in his pocket, biting his lip as he took it out to look at the ring. He wanted to see that smile again, he wanted to see the same smile when he opened the box for you, the same smile when he slid the jewel on your finger, the same smile when you walked up the alter and the same smile for the rest of his fucking life.

“Are you ready?” you said, stepping out of the bathroom.

He could feel his heart stop as he took in every inch of you. You wore a beautiful sundress that complemented every part of your body, flowing gently at your legs paired with simple slippers that were easy to slide off your feet and a cute floppy hat on your head. 

No matter how many times he sees you, he always felt like it was the first time all over again. He could never get over your beauty, your charm, just your overall presence that he had the privilege of getting to see up close.

After all these years he just couldn't believe that you were his.

“More than I could ever be,” he smiled, offering his arms for you to hold wrap your own around.

“Always the cliche, aren't you Holland?” you teased, smiling while you hooked your arm around his elbow, pulling yourself closer to his side.

“Only for you,” he kissed your forehead, walking towards the exit of your hotel room and opening the door, “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

…

You and Tom made your way down the shore, shoes in hand while the other held onto each other’s. Both of your stomachs were stuffed full with all the food you could fit, making you both a bit sluggish while you walked but neither of you cared. His mind was focussed on much more important things, like the beautiful scenery in front of him.

And it wasn't the sun setting in the distance rather the beautiful girl that led him in that direction.

“I still don’t know why you’re caught up on this,” he groaned.

“It was awful!” you laughed, swinging your locked hands back and forth,“Like, I knew you didn’t like cats but come on! You couldn’t make one exception for mine?”

“The thing pounced on me as soon as it saw me! Fucking hissing like an animal,”

“Because it is one!” you smacked his shoulder lightly, rolling your eyes when he yelped in false pain.

“Okay, fair point, but doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he grumbled

“Like him, and his name is Leo,”

“Shit name if you ask me...”

“Excuse me!”

“I’m kidding, i’m kidding,” he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the knuckles, “I’m sure I will grow to love...Leo,”

You sighed, “Him and Tess already get along so well, kind of like our own little family don't you think?”

Tom froze at your words but quickly caught himself, “Yeah, yeah our own little family. I’m sure Tess would appreciate the company,”

“Oh, so you’d give up your comfort for your dog but not for me,” you gave him a playful glare, “I see how it is,”

“To be fair, I did warn you that she’d always come first,”

“And I said the same with Leo, but you didn’t seem to like that!”

“I don’t like cats!”

“Your preference for dogs will be the downfall of this relationship.” 

He could help but laugh out loud at your words, the both of your falling into a fit of giggles as you continued further down the sand. His eyes darted around the area, instantly recognising the bushes Harry showed him in a picture earlier. 

He instantly clammed up.

But before he could suggest anything, you pulled at his arm, pointing at the shore line.

“I’m sorry why are we talking here when we could be playing in the water?” you let go of his hand when he wasn’t budging, spinning around and looking at him, “Come on! We didn’t come to a beach resort for nothing?”

He silently cursed at your words, turning to you with wide eyes that he was too terrified to hide.

“Well- uh, i mean, the water is probably really cold love, I don’t think we should be playing in it this time of night-”

“Oh come on Tommy,” you pleaded, tugging at his arm once again with a pout, “Please!”

He bit the inside of his lip. Oh how he hated that face

“Fine.” he grumbled, letting you drag him across the beach. 

You dropped your shoes in the sand before running into the shallow waters with your dress rolled up as high as you could get it, supporting the clothes with one hand. The other dragged itself across the surface of the water, letting the cold touch send shocks up the warmness of your hand.

“Are you joining me?” you called out to him, turning around to face him.

He swore it wasn’t the moon in the sky or the lights along the beach that light up the atmosphere but your smile. Your bright, wide smile that showed of your teeth and stretched out your lips, illuminating all the stars in the night sky.

He knew it was cliche, but it was true.

“In a second darling,” he bent down to roll up his pants before running into the water with you, immediately splashing you purposely with his hand.

“Hey!” you gasped, splashing him back with the same force.

He was quick to block the splatter but his arms were useless. Your playful banter soon turned into a fight for who could make the other more wet, laughing and giggling when your attempts at making the other soaked only did the same for you in the process.

Tom grabbed you by the waist, pulling you to his chest grinning like a mad man. He took off your hat and placed it on his head, twisting his face to make you laugh even more.

“Give me back my hat Tommy,” you reached to take it back but he swiftly raised it in the air.

“You’re going to have to kiss me for it darling.”

You rolled your eyes, “Seriously?”

He only shrugged, puckering his lips, “Yep.”

Without hesitation you leaned up and pressed your lips against his, not even thinking to pull away when he gently laid it back on your head. It was slow, savoring the feelings, the movements, the taste.

Reluctantly, Tom had to pull away, noticing the orange and red hue reflecting in your eyes.

It was time.

“Y/n?” he whispered.

“Yeah Tommy?”

It was now or never.

“I need to tell you something, well ask you something- but tell you something before i ask you the something-”

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re rambling.”

“Right, sorry,” he let out a nervous chuckle before taking a deep breath to recoup himself, “I- I’m just really nervous,”

“There’s nothing to be worried about Tommy,” you placed a comforting hand on his cheek, “It’s just me,”

You were right, it was just you. He had nothing to worry about, because whatever words he said or how many times he stuttered or stumbled that was just him. You looked at him for that, the imperfections that made him perfect for you.

“Seven years ago I met you by spilling my drink all over you at a bar,” you both laughed at the memory, “It’s crazy to think that you actually still wanted to talk to me afterwards, fuck you even offered to buy me a new one... I- i didn't deserve your kindness that day but you gave it to me. You gave me something that day that I just couldn't let go… and I didn’t,”

He took a step back, but keeping your hands in his, “Two years after that I asked you out, before that prick Jared could-”

“-you really didn’t like him,” you giggled.

“Yeah, yeah I didn’t. I hated that he was the one that pushed me over, it should've been on my own terms, or whenever I gained the confidence but- I’m glad it happened. And I’m glad you accepted. Because I am now the happiest man on earth and these past five years with you have been the highlight of my life. Every date, every moment, every late night talking about absolutely nothing has made me fallen deeper and deeper in love with you and I’d be a fool to ever fucking let that go,”

Without another second waisted he let go one of your hands and took out the box from his pocket and kneeled down on his knee. The waves crashed against his leg, soaking his trousers but he didn't care, not in that moment anyways.

As he opened the box to reveal the ring, your hand shot up to your mouth. The tears that had been silently falling throughout his heartfelt speech turned into loud, choked sobs, falling heavy down the side of your face, mixing with the water that moved across your feet.

“I love you Y/n Y/l/n, nothing I've ever felt with anyone has matched up to what I've felt with you. The freedom to be myself, the intense happiness that burst from my chest with just the sight of you looking back at me. And right here, right now I’m kneeling here to ask you-” he let out a deep breath.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” you cried, nodding your head up and down vigorously, “yes, one hundred times yes,”

“May I?” he gestured to your hand, barely keeping himself together. 

All you could muster was a small nod, shakily holding out your hand for him to slip on the ring. He did so delicately, his hands shaking but his smile couldn't be wider. 

Once the ring was secure, you tackled him to the water letting it soak both of you, engulfing you in the freezing cold but neither of you could care, not in that moment. All that mattered was you. He felt like a fool to think that you would ever say no, that you wouldn't be as happy as he was kneeling down on his knee and muttering the words he’s been wanting to for so long.

When you pulled away to look him in the eyes, he took the opportunity to take your hand with the ring in his, kissing gem and intertwined his fingers with his. You pressed your forehead on his, his face hurting from how wide he was smiling.

“I love you, future Mrs. Holland, my future wife,”

“I love you too future husband,”

With that, you both sealed your love with a kiss under the night sky, lighting up the water with your ecstasy.

...

I tried to write from the reader’s pov for the proposal but i couldn't lmaoo I just felt more comfortable writing it from Tom’s

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Crossed out means couldn't tag:(

[vegalocity]

Peachtea/TripSun angst idea. Nobody knew Wukong would disappear for 500 years so they're mourning until Xiaotian starts training with him. Tang composes himself to wait a little longer but Wukong just ignores all the signs. Until he gets into an argument with Tang and Tang ends up snapping "Why did you disappear for 500 years?!"

Okay so here’s the thing, I can only get behind the whole ‘The other Pilgrims ALL thought Wukong was dead and are PISSED at him now’ stuff, only, and I mean ONLY if Wukong either thought they all didn’t want to hear from him again anyway, or if he thought they were dead too.

....I mean my only contributions to all those ‘Reunion with Baije and Wujing’ posts were both ‘Wukong thought they were dead too’ so CLEARLY thats my read on the whole thing. I sincerely can’t see him just... NOT telling people he cared that much about that he was gonna bounce for that long to be alone on FFM, so if he knew they were alive he would have told them. 

And then you know someone spotted that little shrine with the origami figures in the Special and I was there like:

 So like, lets do something we’ll both enjoy here then because all of those reunion fics are almost exclusively centered around the trio, and we oh so rarely see Sanzang (whether he is Tang or not) get involved. 

So like first off, assuming LMK is on a sci fi alternate earth instead of being in the future, there’s still a solid nine hundred or so years between the end of the Pilgrimage and the supposed time Wukong disappeared for Monkie Kid timeline (JTTW is set in like the 600s or so if i remember correctly, might be wrong about the exacts tho) so lets assume those nine hundred years were uneventful.

So yeah, idk the hows, the hows don’t matter. What DOES matter is Wukong somehow loses contact with the others and is somehow convinced they were all killed, had his last stand against DBK and then went off travelling for a century to come to terms with his brothers and his precious, darling, beloved Master all perishing due to his inability to protect them.

and meanwhile for the others he was just... GONE. Like he’d vanished off the face of the earth, And the last the three of them ever saw of him was the staff rooted into the mountain that now kept the Bull King below. Just in case maybe the tree of them would periodically head off to Flower Fruit Mountain and check in with the monkeys that could still talk, but after about a century it was clear. If he WAS still alive, he wasn’t coming back. And the idea that he’d purposefully leave all of them behind just for the hope that he WAS still alive would do his memory a disservice. 

So when Wukong returns to FFM wouldn’t it be great if he like, JUST missed that last visit? Like DAYS after Sanzang, Baije and Wujing had been there for the final time to hold an impromptu funeral for their dead friend on his homeland and finally accept that he was gone, Wukong returns to the mountain and builds his little shrine for his dead friends... the Monkeys all look at eachother awkwardly and shrug, assuming this will be settled soon enough, surely it’ll be solved before too long.

And then another 400 years of kingly depression naps and the others falling in and out of contact with eachother as they adapt to the ever changing world around them later, Xiaotian snatches the staff from the bull family.

And... Look... It’s been a ROUGH 500 years on Sanzang now called simply Tang. He’d only recently tracked down Baije-now-called-Pigsy in the past... what Ten years? and was only tangentially aware of what Wujing-now-called-Sandy was up to. And... Look... LOOK. It’s ridiculous that he’s still hung up over losing Wukong as much as he is. He’s Well FUCKING aware it’s ridiculous. He should know better, he quite LITERALLY reached immortality through enlightenment. He KNOWS he should know better. 

So why-... Why can’t he say his real name without his gut still twisting into knots? He still tells the stories because telling them behind a wall of detachment, pretending he wasn’t there on the action for most of them helps in some small way, but why does he have to always call him ‘the Monkey King’? What a question, he knows why. He gave his heart away when he was still mortal, and so mortal his heart will forever stay. Dead and returned to the stone with the impulsive monkey he’d given it to.

And then It’s not dead. Because he’s not dead. and honestly at first it’s just shock, it’s just reeling with the sheer tidal wave of feelings he had to spend hours meditating just to sort through. The three of them meet up after Xiaotian and Xiaojiao have turned in for the night to discuss what the FUCK just happened, and all three of them come away with different conclusions. 

Baije is furious and will refuse to seek out Wukong unless its to tell him off for letting the three of them belive him dead, Wujing is sad and would like to see Wukong again to simply ask why he’d decided to cut the three of them out of his life like that, but doesn’t want to do it alone. And he’s...conflicted.

He wants this to be a joyous discovery. he wants to be so relieved and euphoric at his monkey still being there, having ALWAYS been there, that he wouldn’t be able to stop smiling for days on end. But he can’t. It’s all so... messy inside and he’s going to need to keep his distance if he wants to be able to approach Wukong with a level head. This was why attachments such as these were foolish he should have known better all those years ago but it was centuries too late now, and this confliction is what he has to suffer through as the result... wanting to laugh and cry and scream all at once because Wukong is ALIVE, he’d spent SO long in mourning for him, and HOW DARE HE ignore them all and let them assume the worst?!

So he hides behind that Scholar Tang persona while he sorts through his emotions. And it works for the most part. 

And then New Years happens.

And... Look, Wukong’s been THROUGH it in the last 500 years. He’s done everything he could to just... GET OVER the loss of his love His Master and His brothers. he went through all the damn stages of grief, 

Spent that first decade in denial poking around everywhere he could to see if any of them-ANY of them were in hiding somewhere, spent another three decades wandering the world and starting fights with other cultures divine warriors (and that Aphrodite chick was DEFINITELY hitting on him the entire time, extolling about how rarely she got to use her ‘Aria form’ whatever that meant) to work through his rage without actually getting himself in trouble with his own heavenly court. Spent another twenty years or so looking through as many underworlds as he could find, no matter how many of them really wanted to test just HOW immortal he was (Answer: Too Immortal for any of them) to see if ANYONE had anything he could work with, and always coming up empty. eventually crossed the ocean to the other landmass because he was tired of looking at all of these places and seeing either memories or wasted time looking for bargaining chips, and spent a decade or so deciding he hated Mexico and went back to China. and then spent another thirty years just procrastinating returning home to his mountain.

When he returns to flower fruit mountain its as though he’d never left. His monkeys greet him with excitement but he’s standing on the shores of his home he hasn’t seen in a century and... feels nothing. Like his ability to feel anything for anything beyond the people he’s lost is gone. He makes a little shrine that spends most of its time on a shelf that's difficult to be able to look at full on without craning your neck weirdly and if any of his subjects notice that he takes a bit too much care in folding the little paper figure of the monk as he sets the four figures up along the edge of the little thing none of them judge him over it. He’s rarely got the energy for tears anymore, but when he does it’s usually when that little figure catches his eye.

By the time Xiaotian crashes into his life he’s... getting better. At least he thinks he is. having the loud excitable boy in his life is helping chase the shadows away a little bit (though when they return oh how they scream) and he hears some stories of his friends on training days and... geez sometimes he’ll tell this or that story and Wukong will be so THOUROUGHLY reminded of someone that it just... hurts.

And then New Years happens.

And he finally sees him again -- And he finally meets Xiaotian’s friends

And he still doesn’t know how to feel it’s all SO MUCH -- And they feel familiar so he gives them all a quick glance with golden eyes

And he can only do the one thing that feels safe right now -- And oh... that makes sense. How lucky they all found eachother again after reincarnating.

Sanzang hides behind the Tang persona and lies with an energy that could only be harvested from the sheer maelstrom of emotions fighting for dominance -- and Wukong leaves before he says something incriminating because now he knows and he can’t Un-know.

He should have known better but its centuries too late. And it doesn’t even matter that he doesn’t know how to feel about this whole thing he HAS to keep seeing him, he can NOT let him vanish again -- This was a mistake, this was a mistake, he cannot face them all and see lack of recognition, he cannot have his brothers treating him only as Xiaotian’s mentor he can NOT handle looking at him and seeing a stranger.

He needs to at least TALK to him -- He can’t stay away

Wukong doesn’t start out hanging out at the Noodle Shop on down time, that’d be too much too quick, especially since Baije-.. Since Pigsy is clearly still pretty steamed for the whole ‘letting Xiaotian into the world of magic and monsters’ stuff. But he’ll often shapeshift and keep an eye on things like that... No he is NOT eavesdropping on the reincarnations of those three out of the ridiculous desperate desire to feel close to them again. Because he’d rather just love him miss them from afar than be treated as a stranger.

But of course Tang notices when he does. Every time. And every time he wants to say something but his throat feels too tight. That first day he’d fallen on the persona because it was all he felt he COULD do but now the very idea that he’d have to pretend to be someone else just to be able to speak to his monkey not his not anymore Him was completely out of the question. Tang’s actually surprised with himself the first time he finds his voice. 

The conversations come quickly, neither of them quite content to ignore the other now that its become obvious. The conversations are mostly stilted, awkward. Wukong seems both unable to help himself from talking to him, but unwilling to LOOK at him. Tang’s best guess is that he somehow doesn’t recognize him, Had he really changed that much in the time they’d been apart? Had he really lost so much affection for his old master that he could no longer recognize him beneath a slight change in appearance? That might be the reason the Hurt finally starts to win in the eternal standoff between Joy and Sorrow in how this whole thing makes him feel. 

And maybe it’s something simple, maybe Wukong is just barely starting to lower his guard a bit. Maybe just sharing a space with the man who once was the love of his life his master was finally starting to chalk over the rough edges his long since broken heart would constantly stab into him with. and he just SAYS something. Something probably innocuous, something he’d said a million times on the Journey alone. And to Tang it just... feels like he’s mocking him, like he’d known this whole time and had just been playing with his emotions in a way he wouldn’t have tolerated back then- so why should he tolerate it now?

 And the first words out of his own mouth are “Bad Monkey!” and Wukong freezes as Tang begins to lecture him

How he’d spent a solid third of his time immortal in mourning over him, how he’d been the one to tell Baije and Wujing that it would be a disgrace to his memory to believe him alive and instead that he’d chosen to cut the lot of them out of his life, despite how much HE’D wanted to believe it too. How hurt he was to find out that not only he HAD been ignoring them for so long but also that he’d apparently had apparently not even recognized any of them when they HAD all seen each other again! How much he’d missed him, how happy he’d still been to see him again. 

Yes, yes, pathetic, emotional baldy always bursting into tears at the simplest of things nothing’s changed etcetera etcetera- He hadn’t been lying on new years when he said he had a million questions, but all he really wanted to know was why? Why did he cut them out of his life, why did he shut HIM out? Why did you disappear for 500 years Wukong?

And Wukong reaches out, his hand is- shaking? and removes the glasses from right off his face--normal glass obviously, Baije had insisted they completed the scholarly look and annoyed him into compliance--

“You’re-” he hesitates, looks, almost afraid? “You’re not a reincarnation..?”

Oh... 

Well now they both looked the part of fools.

Two sobbing fools clutching to eachother in the alleyway behind Pigsy’s shop, and oh MAN did they have some things to talk about, because Wukong was DEFINITELY coming back with him to his apartment for the night and then first thing in the morning he was going to visit his brothers to internalize that THEY weren’t reincarnations either and then he was going to have to explain where he’d been for that first century while they were all still looking for him to THEM too. 

And yes he should have known better than to get attached to him in this way in the first place, it was disgraceful, the sheer misery it had brought alone was proof enough of that. But Wukong was nuzzling into his shoulder, and pressing those strange feeling monkey kisses across his cheeks and jaw,  and his breath was hitching with pure relief and joy and it was for him-

And fuck it, he just didn’t care. 

[a-blue-secret]

I Would Have Loved You

g: angst, non-idol universe, this is kinda sad (as in like '😭' sad but i don't think it's that bad so idk)

pairing: taegyu

wc: 1465

warnings: heavily referenced suicide

an: this was basically me trying to remember how to write angst..so it's kinda sad. just a lil bit. not a lot, i don't think....

summary: taking a deep breath, taehyun returned his gaze to the sky, watching the clouds drift peacefully, unaware of the struggles and hardships of human life. soon he, too, would no longer have to deal with those struggles. just one more step. and then i can be happy. right?

Taehyun looked at his phone, sighing. No one was replying to him, again. His messages had been delivered, and some of them had even been read, but no one replied. But Taehyun didn't really care anymore. In fact, it just made him more determined.

Taehyun unlocked his phone, staring at his wallpaper. It was an image of the sea, white-tipped waves crashing against jagged rocks. Much like the waves below him right at that moment. He stared at the image for a long moment, before locking his phone again. And with one quick, clean flick of his wrist, his phone went plummeting down into the frothy sea below.

He peered down as it fell, in an almost detached, unemotional way. The phone bounced off the parts of the cliff that jutted out, cracked pieces of plastic occasionally flying off. His facial expression didn't change, watching blankly as it disappeared into the depths of the sea. That phone didn't really matter to him anymore. What was the point of a communication device if no one communicated with you?

Taking a deep breath, Taehyun returned his gaze to the sky, watching the clouds drift peacefully, unaware of the struggles and hardships of human life. Soon he, too, would no longer have to deal with those struggles.

Just one more step. And then I can be happy. Right?

Taehyun bit his lip, hesitating. Was he sure he wanted to do this?

But then his face darkened. He had nothing left he wanted to keep, anyway. He wasn't going to be leaving anything behind. It didn't matter whether he was in the world or not. So why should he stay?

With that final thought, he steeled his nerves. One foot shuffled forward. Then the other. And soon, he was teetering on the edge of the cliff, small pieces of rubble tumbling down before being swallowed by the waves below. One wrong gust of breeze and he'd fall right over. He raised his eyes to look at the horizon, where the bright blue sky met the dark blue sea. The sun sparkled invitingly over the waves, creating small, white stars in between the crests. It was a beautiful sight. A small smile tugged at his lips. At least his death would be made by such an extraordinary being like the sea. With the small smile on his face, Taehyun leaned forward.

And jumped.

In that millisecond he was airborne, he heard a voice yelling behind him, and turned his head.

"No, stop! Don't do it!"

But by the time he registered what the words were, he was no longer on the cliff. He was falling, falling, falling– already plunging down to the waves below. Taehyun watched as a hand shoved itself over the edge, as if telling him to grasp it.

Down, down, down. The salt stung his skin as he fell, the hand still stretched out in his direction. But Taehyun didn't take it. There was no point, anyway. He was too far away and plus, he didn't want to live anymore. He had no reason to live anymore. He saw no point in doing something that he no longer had a reason to do.

Besides, he was too far. Even if he wanted to, it would be too late. There was no changing his mind now.

So Taehyun just watched the hand retreat, replaced by the scared, panicked face of a boy. As he fell further and further, hair whipping around his face, he gave the boy a smile, trying to assure him that it was alright. That this was what he wanted. And he was happy with his decision.

Taehyun kept eye contact with the boy, the soft smile still on his face all the way down as he fell, until he was enveloped by the cold saltiness of the water and he couldn't see the boy anymore. As he sunk down into the cold depths, he thought briefly about the boy, who seemed so desperate to keep him alive. It was strange: he didn't know the boy, nor did the boy know him. He'd have no reason to care about Taehyun.

But still, Taehyun's was firm on his choice. It wasn't like the boy was going to miss him, anyway. This was just one fleeting moment in the boy's life. But for Taehyun? This was the end. This was his end, and he was content. With that final thought, he closed his eyes.

And he didn't open them again.

｡･:*:･‧･₊✜˚.

Beomgyu didn't know him. He didn't know who Taehyun was, since he had just been visiting in town for the weekend. He didn't know anything about him, and yet his heart wanted to cry for the boy.

He'd seen him, standing on the edge of the cliff. The wind had been messing his hair but he didn't even seem to notice. Beomgyu had thought it strange, how close he was standing to the edge, and didn't realise what the boy was about to do until the last second.

With wide, panicked eyes, Beomgyu had bounded forward, arm outstretched, mouth open in a desperate scream.

"No, stop! Don't do it!"

The boy turned around, and Beomgyu thought that he'd saved him. Only to realise that the boy was already falling, and had already jumped by the time Beomgyu had cried out.

Out of desperation, Beomgyu thrust his hand out over the edge, hoping that somehow, the boy was close enough to grab his hand. But when he was only met with cool wind, Beomgyu leaned his head over, and saw the boy already falling, too far away for him to ever be able to reach.

Tears were now beginning to build in Beomgyu's eyes. It was strange: he'd never met the boy in his life and yet his heart ached, as if some part of him was dying with the boy. He didn't know the boy, but the fact that someone hated their life so badly that they wanted to end it hurt him so much. The boy, however, didn't seem to relate to Beomgyu's pain, giving him a relieved smile. This just made Beomgyu feel even sadder. The boy was happy with his choice. He found happiness in his own death.

Beomgyu watched, powerless, as the boy plunged down before being swallowed by the dark waves. Tears were falling down his cheeks. The boy had looked so serene and peaceful it was heartbreaking to see.

He continued to stare down at the ocean, long before the boy had disappeared. Beomgyu didn't bother to wipe his cheeks, staring intently at the frothy blue sea. He didn't know the boy's name, but it felt like if he had, he would have cherished him forever. Is that what soulmates felt like? Even though they hadn't met each other before, they felt that inexplainable pull towards each other.

Beomgyu felt that now, looking down at the waves in which the boy had disappeared. He felt a curious sense of loss, as if he'd watched some part of his own soul die with the boy.

"I would have loved you," Beomgyu whispered. "If you'd just waited a little longer, then I'm sure I would have loved you. I would have loved you hard enough to make you want to stay." Another tear fell. "I know I would have loved you. Even though I didn't know you. I'm sure I would have. Tell me: would you have let me?"

But Taehyun was too far gone to reply. The cliff was silent, save for the crashing of waves against the rocks below, and the relentless wind whipping up the sand around him.

Beomgyu stayed there, staring over the edge of the cliff as if, if he stared long and hard enough, Taehyun might come back.

When finally, the sun dipped below the horizon and was replaced by the quiet silver moon, Beomgyu got to his feet, brushing his knees. With one last look over the cliff, he reluctantly walked away.

If Taehyun had hesitated for even one more second, he could have met Beomgyu, who would have saved him and loved him so much that he'd never attempt to jump again. If Beomgyu had noticed what Taehyun was about to do just a fraction of a second earlier, Taehyun would have grabbed Beomgyu's hand and not have ever let it go.

But unfortunately, they missed each other by a sliver of a moment. By a thin thread of time, they missed that opportunity to be in each other's lives. And so, they just brushed past each other's lifetimes, neither of them knowing each other for more than a few seconds.

But the memory of each other was the last thing both of them remembered before they died.

[alovesongshewrote]

For the requests, can you do Douxie x reader where the reader gets a job at the bookshop and conveniently forgets their sweater at work so Douxie has to lend them his hoodie 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Sweater | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot:  haha, sweater go brrrrrrrrr

Word Count: 1,946

Warnings:  Folding chairs and spiders

A/N:   Idk what this is, but i hope you enjoy it

Tag List: @furblrwurblr

You had always wanted to work at a bookstore.

Ever since you were an angsty twelve-year-old who only found solace in books, it had been your dream to work amongst the written word.  Too bad Chapters had shitty hours.

That didn’t matter now, though.  GDT Arcane Books had excellent hours, a positive work environment, and the nicest couches to ever exist.  They also had a painting of Guillermo del Toro.  You weren’t sure why, but you loved it anyway.  There was only one thing about the small bookstore that you loved more than the Del Toro painting, which is saying a lot, that painting was amazing.

Your coworker, Hisirdoux Casperan, was very quickly becoming your favourite human being in the entire world.  He was sweet, selfless, and he cared about other people.  He made you laugh more than anyone else, and he was there for you when you were stressed or anxious.  Also, he had a cat.  I don’t even need to tell you that cats are amazing.

The bookstore was the perfect place, and it only got better as the seasons changed.  Fall in Arcadia was beautiful, fall in Arcadia in a bookstore was even better.  GDT began to feel like a second home to you, so much, in fact, that you developed the habit of leaving things at work.  It wasn’t your fault, things like this happen sometimes, and that’s okay.  As long as you don’t forget anything too important, you should survive.

And then you forgot something important.  

It wasn’t anything major like your wallet, but it was necessary to keep you warm in the cool weather, especially at night.

And it was night.  And it was cold.  And your favourite sweater was still in the bookstore.  And you hadn’t realized until Douxie had locked the doors and you’d both gone your separate ways.

In short, you were a little bit screwed.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering slightly.  This was fine.  Totally fine.  As fine as a dog drinking coffee in a burning room.  The wind blew, shaking the branches on the trees and raising goosebumps on your skin.  Lovely.

You braced yourself against the breeze, trudging forward, determined to make it home and have a hot cup of tea.  

And then you heard a trash can fall over.  Extra lovely.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with a Goblin or Shadow Mephit or something.  You walked faster.  There was another, louder crash behind you.  You sped up again.  You were not dealing with this tonight.

There was more noise from behind you, the universe clearly disregarding your wishes for a calm night.  At this point, you were running.  There was a limit to how much crap you could put up with, and it was a limit you were fast approaching.  

Then Douxie flew into your side, bringing both of you to the ground.

“Douxie!?”

“(Y/N)!?”  

Whatever had thrown Douxie at you roared from the alley.  You couldn’t see it, but you could tell that it wasn’t anything good.

“You have to run,”  your coworker said, getting to his feet and offering you a hand up.

“What?  No, I’m not leaving you-”

“I’ll be okay, (Y/N), but you need to get out of here!”

Even if you wanted to, you didn’t have time to get out of there.  What appeared to be a large stone spider emerged from the space between buildings.  How this thing didn’t wake up the whole neighbourhood, you had no idea, and you couldn’t stop to think of one because the arachnid was now attacking.  Douxie stood in front of you, shielding you with his body, and some kind of blue forcefield.  

“(Y/N), GO!”

You ran, but you didn’t go home.  Instead, you searched for something to fight with.  

Monsters and magic were not a new concept to you, not when you lived in Arcadia.  You’d gone through whatever the hell that troll-thing was, an alien attack, and several other crap-tastic world-ending events.  This was just one monster, and you had Douxie, who was apparently a wizard on your side.  This was not the problem you were expecting or even a problem you wanted, but it was one you could handle.

It took a minute of searching, but eventually, you found the perfect weapon.  Someone had left a folding chair outside.  It may not be an enchanted sword, or a serrator, or a gun, but folding chairs had done wonders for you during the troll-hell, and you figured it would work for you now.

You grabbed the chair and rejoined the fray.

Douxie was not pleased to see this.  He really liked you.  You were sweet, snarky and charming, and he really liked all of your quirks.  He enjoyed your company and wanted to spend more time with you.  He knew you were a strong person, and that you could take care of yourself, but he was really hoping that you wouldn’t have to deal with this.  He knew it would kill him if anything bad happened to you.

But you lived in Arcadia, where bad things always happened, and you knew how to deal with this.

“EAT CHAIR, PUNK!”  you yelled, bringing the chair down on whatever part of the spider you could reach.  This didn’t make the spider happy, but you were able to avoid any and all attacks while repeatedly bashing the thing with your folding chair.

The wizard was at a loss for words.  

While he wanted you to run home, he knew there was a high chance that you would stay, and a higher chance that you would stay and try to help him.  The chair, however, had not been a part of these calculations, so all he could do was stare and watch as you kicked this thing’s ass.  No one could blame him, it was very impressive and very attractive.

And kick-ass you did.  You dodged attacks and landed hits, your folding chair proving to be as useful as ever.  Eventually, you managed to wedge your weapon between the pincers of the arachnid, distracting it momentarily.

“Douxie!  Now!”

Douxie snapped from his haze at the sound of your voice.  He sent a wave of magic at the thing before opening the gate to limbo underneath it.  You and Douxie were left staring at the ground where the thing had fallen through.

“Nice one,”

“Thanks,”  the situation set in for both of you.

“Hey, wait a minute, what was that?”

“Oh, fuzzbuckets, are you okay?”

The two of you hesitated for a moment, held at a stalemate.  You wanted answers, he wanted to know if you were alright.

You took this time to take in details you hadn’t noticed while beating up the stone spider.  Douxie had some kind of band or cuff on his wrist.  You had never seen that before despite working with him for a few months now.  It was new.  And it was pretty cool if you were telling the truth.

While you examined the cuff from where you stood, Douxie noticed that you were unharmed, but shivering slightly.  You didn’t have your sweater on.

“Aren’t you cold?”

The question knocked you out of your thoughts, but fortunately, you were focused enough to answer, “Oh, uh, yeah, I forgot my sweater back at the bookstore,”

“Oh,”

Without another word, Douxie took off his hoodie, walked over to you and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“There you go, that should warm you up,”

You gingerly grabbed the edges of the hoodie, wrapping it tightly around your shaking frame.  He was right, it did warm you up, but as your eyes ran over the tattoos on Douxie’s shoulders, you thought of a few more ways he could help you achieve that goal.

“Thank you,”

“Of course, love,”

The wind blew by again.  It wasn’t so bad this time.

Then you realized how late it was.

“Oh, god, I should be getting home, I-”

“Let me walk you,”

“Are you sure?”

“(Y/N), I know you can defend yourself,”  he cast a cautious glance towards the discarded folding chair, “But it would make me feel a lot better to know you got home safe,”

Your cheeks warmed at the sentiment.  It was nice to be cared about.

“Ok.  Come on, I’m this way,”

The walk started off in silence.

Douxie’s hoodie was soft.  His tattoos were really nice.  It was still kinda cold, but Douxie showed no signs of feeling the temperature.  

But it was too quiet.  You needed to talk about this.

“Hey, Doux?  You mind telling me what that thing was?”

The wizard sucked in a deep breath, “To be honest, I don’t know yet.  I’m still figuring that one out,”

“Huh,”  you supposed that was a valid answer, “Let me know when you do,”

Douxie smiled for a moment.  He told you that you’d be the first to know.  Then his face fell.  He almost looked scared, but there was nothing around you to be scared of.  You were a bit confused, but your attention stayed on Douxie.

“(Y/N), until this is all sorted out, could you avoid going out after dark?  I don’t want you getting hurt,”

That was a bit of an understatement.  If you got hurt at all, it would kill him.  If you got hurt by something he could have protected you from, it would destroy him.

“I’ll do my best, but you know I get off from work late,”

“Then I’ll walk you home,”

“I’d like that,”

You were a bit surprised by how determined he was to keep you safe.  It was really nice to have someone watching out for you for a change.  It made you feel warm on the inside.  

After that, the conversation turned to normal things.  Music, books, anything other than stone monsters with no name.  Douxie did ask where you learned to wield a folding chair, but some things are best left to the imagination.

You were actually sad when your house came into view, something you never thought possible.  You’d been enjoying your time with Douxie so much, you didn’t want it to end.  Unfortunately, you did not control the universe.

“Well, this is me,” you took off the hoodie, which was also a sad event.  You held it out for Douxie to take, “Here-”

“Hang onto it,” the wizard said, taking your hands under the hoodie for a moment, “At least until you get your sweater back,”

You both pulled away, blushing, 100%.

“Thank you,”

“It’s no problem, really,”

There was another moment of silence.  You both had so much to say, but no idea how to say it.  

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow,”

Douxie watched as you opened the door to your home, and stepped through the door.  A surge of energy ran through him.  He had to say something, anything, or he would regret it.

“(Y/N)?”

You spun around to face him faster than either of you thought possible, “Yes?”

Douxie paused.  He didn’t think he’d get that far, to be honest.  But you were watching him with anticipation, waiting for him to speak.

“Just… stay safe, okay?”  it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say, but it was close enough.

“I will if you do,”

The smile on your face was the best thing he’d seen all day.

He was so distracted by the curve of your lips that he didn’t even notice that you had moved to stand in front of him.

“Thanks again, Douxie,”  and with that, you left a small kiss on his cheek and entered your apartment, leaving Douxie a blushing mess on your doorstep.

“Douxie?  Are you alright?”

“I’m much better than alright, Arch,”

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

A Sky Full Of Stars

Ao3

(((( big thanks to @tinyboop for.... letting me rant at you i guess???? Hahahhaa! Idk!!! ))))

Summary: this is literally the most random little thing about Sam and Bucky and Mother's Day.

They'd been out grabbing some groceries when they walked past the little display in the window of the flower shop. Some big bright thing about mother's day being right around the corner. Bucky goes quiet. Not that he was being overly rowdy or anything. But he'd been relaxed. Having a nice time. He's tense the rest of the way home and Sam doesn't see him for the rest of the night.

The next few days he hardly sees him either. He comes out for food and disappears again. Sam leaves him to it, knows he'll talk when he's ready. Or at least come out of his room. He's never chatty. But Sam gives him space.

He gets up early on Mother's Day, makes himself a small breakfast, and smiles to himself when he hears Bucky "sneak" out the front door. He grabs his jacket, slips his shoes on, and follows him.

Sam knows exactly where they're going as soon as Bucky takes his 3rd left. He watches him go through the gates, shoulders drooped, head down, hood up. And Sam turns around, lets him go.

Bucky just stands there. For a long time. Looking down at his mom's grave. He doesn't know what to say. He used to be good at talking to his ma. But he just can't seem to say anything. His throats all closed up. He hears Sam way before he scuffles up behind him and stops.

They both stand there.

Silent.

Bucky clenches his fists.

"I left her." Bucky finally says, quiet. Sam sighs and closes the space, his hand falls on Bucky's shoulder easy.

"You didn't leave her." Bucky looks up at him, smiles that sad smile he has, and Sam's heart breaks, like it always does.

"I did though." Sam takes a deep breath. There's days Bucky is fine. And then there are days when ghosts show up. Ghosts Sam never would have even thought to think of. And this was one of those days.

"Okay, maybe you left her. In the literal sense. But you didn't abandon her Buck. You got drafted. You wrote her letters yeah?" Bucky doesn't say anything. Sam shakes his shoulder.

"Yeah. I wrote her letters." He finally says. Quiet.

"Bucky." He moves to look him in the eyes. "You didn't leave her. You were taken." He thinks for a moment, eyes moving away from Bucky and then zeroing back in.

"Twice." Bucky looks at his feet.

"Hey" Sam says, quiet like he's trying not spook a skiddish horse. Bucky looks back up at him, with mainly his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault. And i should know, cuz i mean a lot of things are DEFINITELY your fault, but not this." Sam feels relief flood through him when Bucky laughs. It's small. But its there.

"Those for me?" Bucky asks.

"What?" Bucky nods at Sam's hand, he'd forgotten he was holding them, a bundle of flowers.

"You wish. These are for your mother. Obviously." Sam rolls his eyes and sets them gently on the grave in front of them, as he straightens the leaves he doesn't see the look Bucky gives him.

Afterward, Sam drags him away. Tells him he wants to show him something. Bucky is apprehensive at best. But he lets Sam take him god knows where. Turns out god knows where is Sam's family's place. His mother's house to be exact. Bucky is shaking by the time they get to the door.

"Sam I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"Hush. It's fine" And then his mom is answering the door and pulling them both inside.

"You're late young man." his mother says. Sam laughs as she pulls him close.

"Sorry mama, we had to stop and visit his mom in The Valley." She lets her son go and looks at Bucky, her eyes are kind like Sam's, and when she gives him a small toothy smile he sees Sam's gap and dimples reflected too. Then she pulls him close too. Doesnt say she's sorry for his loss, doesn't pity him, just squeezes him tight and says,

"Well if there's an exception to the rule, I'd say that qualifies." Then she turns to Sam, looking stern.

"Are you gonna introduce your guest?" And Sam startles and stutters before hurrying through the introductions. Bucky mumbles a small hello, and Sam's mom smiles at him again before telling him he can sit down and keep her company while sam cooks them a nice meal.

Bucky and Sam's mom get along, very well. Sam swears he even hears bucky laugh at one point, but when he peeks in to look at them, both of them are stone faced watching the tv. Sam is immediately suspicious, but he lets it go. They're quiet for awhile before he hears bucky say,

"I'm gonna see if he needs help with anything Mrs. Wilson, I'll be right back

" Sam smiles into the gravy he's stiring and pretends he didn't hear a thing. Bucky doesn't say anything for a long time, and when Sam finally turns around he finds him leaning in the doorway, arms and legs crossed as he watches Sam.

"Whats up Buck?" He asks, moving on to check the boiling potatoes. Bucky shakes his head gently.

"Just seein if you need any help?" He steps forward finally, into the kitchen. Sam looks at him for a second.

"You know how to cook?" He narrows his eyes.

"Of course i know how to cook. Little suprised you do." He says, laying his hands flat on the table, looking over Sam's cooking.

"What? Why are you suprised i can cook?" He sounds offended. And then Bucky is smiling and he just doesn't care.

"Sam, half the time i see you eat you're eating fast food or those weird protein bar things."

"Excuse me!?" Sam's mothers voice calls from the living room.

"Nothin mama!" He glares at Bucky who smiles and moves his eyesbrows on his forhead exactly once.

"Oh you're an asshole." Sam says and turns back to the stove.

"Yeah... i know. But I'm an asshole who's offering a service. You takin it or leavin it?" He turns again, Bucky's hands are at his sides, palms out, questioning. Sam watches him, thinks it over, sees Bucky's foot start to move and says,

"Can you mash potatoes?"

"Can i mash potatoe? Sam is now really the best time to brush up on your dancing?" He says, moving forward and taking the bowl of now strained boiled potatoes from Sam. Sam swears he hears his mother snort in the other room.

"You- what?"

"The mash potatoe. It's a dance. Was a dance? Is a dance." He decides, taking the mixer off the counter, dodging around Sam as he's frozen in confusion.

"Oh right, yeah. Good one." He says, sounding far away. He'd gotten the joke. He KNEW what the dance was. But Bucky joking had... knocked him off balance.

He watched as he began to get the potatoes going, saw that small smile on his face, and had to shake his head. A joking, smiling, Bucky Barnes, was helping him make his mother dinner for mother's day. He cleared his throat and got back to work.

Dinner was amazing. Bucky and his mother both praised the food he'd made. She gushed over the mashed potatoes for an overly long time, sharing little glances with Bucky that made Sam suspicious again. The fact that she kept looking between them, smiling and shaking her head was not helping.

They headed out late. His mom giving Bucky a very long hug before waving him out the door. Bucky went to stand by the car while Sam said goodbye to his mother. She stood looking up at him for a moment.

"What?" He asked, she had a look in her eyes.

"That boy." She nodded to Bucky.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, head tilting as he glanced at Bucky and then back to her.

"He's a good one. Nice manners. And funny." She said, inclining her head and swatting at Sam's chest.

"Funny? He's funny?" Sam asked, skepticism pressed into his voice hard, to keep up appearances. His mother looked at him, her hip cocking to the side.

"Yes. Funny. Charming too. And a bit sad." She said, looking out at Bucky, who had the decency to pretend to be looking at the stars.

"Yeah. I guess he's-"

"But not around you."

"Huh?"

"He's not sad around you."

"Mama how could you know that?"

"He has these little lines around his eyes when he's around you. Like he's smilin even when he isn't."

"He-"

"Just cuz he isn't smiling doesn't mean he isn't happy to be there." She said, cryptic as always when important things are being said.

"Happy to be where?" Sam asked, though he was pretty sure he knew her answer.

"Whereever you are." She smiled up at him once more and then pulled him close, and thanked him for a lovely meal, same as every year.

Sam walked to the car slowly, Bucky was still looking at the sky. Sam unlocked it and Bucky looked at him finally, nodding before sliding into the passenger seat.

They drive in silence for awhile before bucky sighs and relaxes farther in his seat. "There's so many stars out here." Sam glances at him, his eyes are still fixed on the sky. So he hadn't been pretending, he was genuinely transfixed by the sky.

"That was one of the best things about Wakanda. Besides the quiet. At night you'd look up, and it was just a sky full of stars." Bucky hadn't mentioned much about his time in Wakanda, to anyone. Sam was pretty sure he just wanted to have something to himself. He glanced at bucky again.

"There are places around here like that. Places you could go. You could probably buy a house in a place like that." Sam said, they'd never talked much about that either. Bucky having a place of his own. Sam could see him nodding, could see that small smile on his lips. "That'd be nice." He said, sighing again as the warm air blew over his skin. Sam cleared his throat and forced himself to keep his eyes on the road.

"So, where to next?" He said, for something to say really. He knew they were heading home. He felt Bucky shrug heavily next to him. And then felt Bucky's eyes on him. Sam turned to look at him, cautiously.

"Wherever you want, it's good with me."

And Sam saw it. What his mother had been talking about, the little lines around Bucky's eyes. He was smiling, without smiling. And he was looking at Sam. And he knew, just then, for that moment, he'd go anywhere with Bucky, do anything for him, as long he kept looking at him like that.

Sam smiled then, and huffed out a laugh as he moved his eyes back to the road. He heard Bucky do the same, saw a flash of white in his peripheral vision that ment  Bucky was full on smiling, before he turned to look out the window once more. Sam took a deep breath, letting the warm air whisper agaisnt his skin as he drove them back to the city, hands twitching on the wheel when Bucky shifted in his seat and let his hand rest loosely on the console between them.

Sam almost reached out. He suddenly longed to touch him, and though the hand lying there was metal, it was still Bucky's. He glanced at Bucky again and made himself a promise.

Soon.

Soon he'd reach out. He'd touch him. He'd reach out and change things. The next time Bucky smiled. Under a sky full of stars.

[danieyells]

Messy mutterings about Chapter 55 spoilers with a small angst warning, copypasted from discord with little cleaning and edits lol

I'm imagining Raphael sent Luke away so he wouldn't interfere with him killing/fighting Michael and Simeon went along with the idea and is in the human world too so Luke's not, y'know, on his own in a strange new world and to reduce Luke's suspicion and all. But as Michael and Raphael are fighting or whatever Luke somehow learns what's going on/realizes why things are off and rushes home to try and stop it.

He tries to get between Raphael and Michael(perhaps his back, Raph perhaps striking while Michael is lost in thought missing the brothers, spaced out, staring at the wall where their portraits were) and is struck violently by Raphael's spear instead. Simeon, ofc, followed him home to try and protect him but is too late because of Luke's own determination to protect Michael bonus if he grows a little in this scene--just magically, because his current smol form is too weak to help surely but if he were a little bigger, a little stronger, maybe he could make it in time--!! and Luke is impaled.

He doesn't die but none of the three wanted Luke hurt in this confrontation--Michael is angry at Raph for attacking/being violent in the first place, Raph is mad at Simeon for failing to restrain Luke, and Simeon is like is now really the time for this because hello Luke is hurt.

Angels are made of strong stuff, he's not gonna die but he'll be in a bad spot if they don't get him to an angel who specializes in healing. I've elected this to be Uriel for now although I've been told that Raphael is generally percieved as the angel of healing--but with OM canon his reputation sonfar is so hostile I'm gonna say that may not be the case. Michael (or Raph) can stave things off for a bit but he's not healing specialized either--they're all Archangels and Seraphs but their fields are elsewhere, mostly combat.

(Luke tries to assure that he's fine and attempts to remove the spear. They don't allow this because the spear is, of course, keeping most of his blood in at the moment.)

They can't fly him to someone because it'd be bumpier so they have to carry him or call/run/send for help--so other angels do learn what's going on and speculation begins. Luke is hospitalized and Raph and Michael and Simeon stay with him while he sleeps, kinda tensely, not really ready to talk out whatever happened. But before he passed out Luke tried to tell Raphael not to fight/kill Michael, to talk to him instead. He wanted to tell him to talk to the demons/humans too, they're not as bad as they think(he and Raph are very likeminded so he thinks 'maybe Raphael will listen to me since I'm starting to see that I was a little wrong maybe') but he couldn't get it out.

Simeon messages the demons, Solomon, and MC and says he won't be returning to the human world/devildom for a bit because Luke was hurt in the CR. Mammon, having had recently gotten attached to Luke, is stunned and angry and anxious and wants to know what happened. Simeon isn't ready to tell them yet, and Mammon demands Barb make a portal to the CR for him to check on Luke--surely Barb is also worried because he cares for Luke too!

Diavolo says they're not allowed to go and Barb agrees(he felt as much before Diavolo said anything too.) Simeon agrees because there's some unrest now and speculation and with an exchange student angel having had been injured by a notoriously demon-skeptical Archangel some angels are worried the demons may be involved in this somehow and if demons suddenly showed up it'd make things worse. Mammon curses his helplessness because his new little brother minion is hurt and he can't even check on him. Simeon feels helpless too--he's an archangel, a Seraph, but he can't help Luke either.

I imagine MC then offers to visit instead--they may be a powerful sorcerer now but they're still just a sheep human with an inhuman aura right? They wouldn't be as concerning for the general populace. After some consideration the demons and Solomon agree this would be okay, as does Michael and Simeon [and Raph maybe] but they say to wait a few hours/a day or two before doing so, just to allow some cooldown/recovery in the CR.

(In the meantime Mammon reviews one of Luke's recent text chains to him where he's baking something. He tries to copy all the steps and instructions and clumsily makes some cupcakes. They're ugly and Mammon isn't known for his stellar cooking, but they kinda relieve him a bit and Beel says they taste alright, so Mammon asks MC to bring them to the CR for Luke for him--there's enough for Michael too since he's probably going through a hard time. It's not like he cares or anything!! He's just building up credit! They'll owe him with interest when this is all said and done!!!)

Idk what'd happen afterwards--it's probably the first time MC meets Raph so it's not under the best circumstances and he definitely wouldn't trust sweets from a demon. And even if he was gonna fight/kill Michael he doesn't trust that Mammon would give him anything safe and instinctively would tell Michael not to touch them, let alone Luke if he's awake to do so. So it's not like he hates Michael, he just. Things need to change and he tried to incite it the only way he knows how--or, rather, the most effective way, given how quickly things changed after the Rebellion. A spear to the throat makes anyone listen. A rebellion is what made Michael change, so maybe it will help him go back to normal too.

(Maybe Luke is awake enough to hear them talking about these things and weakly asks if Raph is going to be exciled over this--the first thing he says since passing out. They're surprised because. He got injured trying to protect Michael but he's still trying to protect Raphael, Michael's assailant? But Luke understands how Raphael feels because he feels the exact same way--or he used to. He didn't trust demons or humans or sorcerers or the exchange program, he didn't think they should get along at all. And he saw how sad Michael was without the brothers and hated them for that too--and Raph feels the same way, right?

Angels are all family. Raphael, Michael, Luke, Simeon, even when they disagree, when their views don't align due to time and perspectives and experiences and ages and positions, they're all brothers. And Lucifer and them were their family too. Even if they disliked them or how they behaved, even if they resent their rebellion and its effects they were still family and they loved and cared about them.

And Raphael doesn't want to see Michael hurting anymore either--certainly not over people who don't care anymore, certainly not over people who turned on them and Father, who must hate them as well. . .but he's been with the brothers for over a year now. Maybe two or three at this point. And he may have only learned it recently but. . .they haven't forgotten. They probably don't hate them. And the demons, the humans, even those unfaithful and the practitioners of dark magic, the fallen, they're not as bad as they thought. They're not necessarily their enemies. Raphael doesn't know it like Luke does because he's never left the CR aside for war and maybe visiting the human world briefly too, right? But if he'd consider things differently, if he's allowed a chance to learn, Luke himself promises Michael, promises Father who's surely watching as he always is, that he'll understand. Raph made a rash decision albeit after many many years of consideration-- but it was out of ignorance, so please forgive him and give him another chance and don't excile him? On top of that he needs a chance to learn and do better--imagine how he'd feel, being turned into something he hates or fears? It will help him learn, sure, but it also may only make him feel worse or make him do something more rash or result in another Fall if he has supporters.

Raphael doesn't hate Michael--he just wants things to be different. Perhaps to go back to normal. And he doesn't want Michael to mope over the loss of the seven brothers and Lilith anymore either.

And maybe in this time, since they'd have to decide what to do about Raph, Michael requested Diavolo come over too--y'know, in case Raph is exciled, they'd want Diavolo's approval and reassurance to keep an eye on him too. So maybe he or Barb, as they arrive in the room, would approve of Luke's appeal--ask what Michael and Simeon And Raph and MC think. They could always bring him in as an exchange student too! 😘 That worked for Luke!

Ultimately Raph probably wouldn't be exciled/become a Fallen but be given another chance. Maybe he's stripped of his title temporarily, until he's sufficiently deemed to learn about demons, angels, their history together, culture, whether or not they can get along, etc--so he's bitter, but thankful. And Michael understands that perhaps he's been allowing how much he misses the brothers and Lilith to cloud him and maybe it's time to move on and make changes to the Celestial Realm again after all this time. Bonus points if the bros came along and he was too distracted to sense them--someone's like "oh you're moving on? So we came here for no reason after all?" and ofc he's happy to see them again and gets to hang out with them again for a while before getting to say a goodbye with more closure. And he hangs off of Lucifer's neck the whole time they're there lol he and Dia bond over being Lucifer fanboys too.

Luke's okay in the end--a little worse for wear because being stabbed by Raphael is Not A Small Ordeal but he's okay and he shows a little more maturity. But he's also still same old Luke who will happily point out how awful demons are and use it as an excuse for distrust/fear--but he's more mindful of it now because he feels like he needs to set a good example for Raph lmao.)

[talas-starlight]

Killing me softly - Sokka x reader

SUMMARY: Having only heard good things about Sokka, you always wanted to see how great he is for yourself. When you finally get the opportunity, you struggle to find him as funny as everyone said.  

This is based off the song killing me softly by the fugees which you can listen to: here! or there is a version by zhavia: here!

I strongly suggest you listen to the song because I think the whole vibe you get from it will get you in the mindset for this (and hopefully distract you from how poorly this was executed AHAH)

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNINGS: angsty vibes. tried to have a hopeful ending but idk if it worked lol. poor writing skills.

A/N: ahA I really couldn’t get this idea out of my head so here we are! most certainly did not do this concept/ song fic justice to the way I imagined it but lol this shit low key hurted my feelings but also tried to turn it around? Idk I think this is okay?

KEY: words in-between dividers = lyrics MY MASTERLIST: here!

I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style And so I came to see him, to listen for a while And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes

You knew nothing and everything about him all at the same time. Hakoda allowed you to join them as they recruited people across the nations to prepare for invasion day. In doing so, you unknowingly signed a non-verbal contract to hear all the stories and jokes about his son, Sokka. Of course, he spoke highly of his daughter, but there was an unrelenting sense of pride and joy that came with hearing about him.

“You’ll really enjoy speaking with him y/n. He can take any dull or sad moment and turn it into something that will make you laugh beyond your years. He’s been through so much, but he’s become the warrior I knew he was always destined to be.”

It was impossible not to want to meet him. You wanted to hear the stories in the flesh as he became the light in the darkness of this war.

Yet when he finally boarded the ship with his friends after Ba Sing Se, that’s all he became, a story. As a mechanic and strategist, your time was booked to the brim, building upon the plans Sokka created himself. Somehow, you managed to have interactions with Katara and Toph, even Momo, but being in the same room as Sokka? Impossible. You weren’t avoiding him by any means, and neither was he, it just seemed that even when confined to the space of a ship your duties dragged both of you into different directions…. Until now.

Finally having time to relax as you finished reviewing a draft for one segment of the invasion, you made your way mess hall in a desperate search to consume any food you could get your hands on. Walking in, Toph perked up at feeling your presence when entering the room. Considering you were always busy when working on something and she was not too chatty, you got along well with minimal conversations and comfortable silence.

You grab a bowl, filling it to the brim with fresh soup and sat at their table across from her. Feeling content as you feel the soups warm and wholesome scent fill your senses, you glance around to see who else is sitting at the table. Eyes zeroing in on Sokka’s frame at the other end of the table, your breath instantly hitches. Suddenly your face feels as warm as your soup, and you want to kick yourself for letting yourself be so affected just by your incredibly short glance at him. Shifting your focus back to your soup you make the painfully obvious decision to focus all of your attention towards it, only listening to their interactions around you. You reminded yourself that you didn’t truly know him, only what everyone else has told you. You knew better than to let yourself become a total fool for the Watertribe boy without having any proper interactions with him. Hence, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at the edge of your seat in anticipation to see Sokka joke around and tell stories with your friends. After all, that is what you were told about from the moment you met his father.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

The excitement quickly dissipated when he began to dive into this evenings’ jokes and anecdotes.

“Guys! You wouldn’t believe it!! I was exploring the ship after training today, and I found all of these Fire Nation scrolls about their art and folktales in one of the rooms, and let me tell you, it’s a load of shit!”

As everyone laughed, you momentarily stopped breathing. Your entire being began to fold into itself, terrified at the prospect of him taking all of the things you favoured about your childhood and rip them to pieces.

Katara attempted to see the light in his statement. “Come on Sokka it can’t be that bad! I mean even the Watertribe has some questionable stories, I remember even the one Gran Gran told was a bit-“

“No, Katara! This is by far soooo much suckier than those stories. Okay, so there’s this one about dragons right? What happens is that there’s this Dragon Emperor who becomes bound to a mortal’s body by a Dark Water Spirit. So obviously! I was expecting this super cool battle or revenge plot, but in the end, they turned it into this lame love story where the Dragon Emperor falls in love with a mortal who turns out to be the Dragon Empress!”

“Aw I think that’s sweet! I mean surely there would have been a battle with the Dark Water Spirit so it wouldn’t have been a total loss?”

“Ugh, Katara! You don’t get it! It's just… sooooo oogie! They shouldn’t have done that. It should have been a story about battle, and warriors! I mean come on, that’s all the Fire Nation is good for right? Destruction and battle. So why did they have to ruin that story like that with all of that lovey stuff?! It just seems like nothing good can ever come out of the Fire Nation.”

Taking another mouthful of the soup, you kept your face downward as everyone laughed at Sokka’s exclamation of hatred for the nation you grew up in. No one knew where you grew up there except Hakoda, and you liked it that way. In complete fairness to you, it wasn’t your entire identity since your mother was from the Earth Kingdom, and you only spent the first seven years of your life there. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less when he tore apart the only things you dearly loved as a child.

Toph sensing your discomfort as you didn’t join in their amusement, she swiftly diverted the conversation into a new direction. While you were grateful, the thought of being in his presence any longer made you want to cry. It clearly didn’t work either as he continued to joke around about the food and other small things he picked up about the nation throughout their journey. Silently finishing up, you didn’t say a word or even give a half-hearted smile as they all laughed. Placing your bowl in the sink, you headed straight to your room.

The actions made everyone at the table confused, yet no one spoke out about it. Afterall, no one really knew you personally, nor did they understand what caused you to cut your interaction with them so short. Sokka himself became particularly curious. Afterall just like you, he heard many great things about you from his father, admiring your kindness and work ethic from afar. So, to say he wasn’t hurt that you chose not to stay longer or even crack a genuine smile, would be a lie.

Making it to your room, you took out any piece of paper or a scroll you used for your plans and began to pour out your pain onto to pages until you passed out from exhaustion. Not caring what contents were on the other side, you allowed yourself to be unfiltered.

You knew Sokka didn’t mean any harm; everyone laughed. He became the light you oh so desired to witness for yourself. Deep down, you knew you would have laughed too if it weren’t for the fact that he took the few happy memories you had with your father and set it on fire. A fire that produced the light you wished to see… but it seemed it wasn’t in the right way you hoped for.

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on

You sighed as you finally finished fixing the pipes in the lower decks of the ship, once again tired and done with today’s work, you went to the mess hall for a late dinner.

“Hey Hakoda, I finished the plumbing problem so no one on the second floor should have any troubles now.”

“Thanks, y/n! You really are such a valuable person in this team. You’re always making sure everything is up and running.”

“Of course! What would you do without me? After all, let’s not forget how I spend my free time with your invasion plans.” You joked.

Turning your back to him to scoop some food onto your plate, he spoke up from behind you. “Oh right! That reminds me, I mentioned your ideas to Sokka earlier, and he seemed to really like them! But Sokka being Sokka, he got so excited over them and asked so many questions I didn’t even know how to respond. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know he’s probably at your desk analysing all of your scrolls right now. That kid never seems to be able to contain his excitement.”

“Yeah, that’s oka-“abruptly, you dropped your plate as your brain processed the information. If he was looking at your plans, then that meant……

Not even giving the Watertribe chief another glace or end to your response, you ran. Taking the fastest route to your room, everything in your mind and your surroundings became blurred, and you became hyper-focused on the fact that Sokka probably found what you wrote about him. Desperately trying not to cry as you bumped into people in the hallways, you couldn’t think of anything worse to happen in this very moment. The very idea of him knowing how you felt about him as well as how his words affected you made you want to scream. Maybe if you got there in time, he wouldn’t have read enough to understand your feelings fully. But when you bust through your door, it was too late. Sokka stood near your desk, with all the scrolls you ever wrote on scattered around the room. Some lay on your bed, the floor, across the desk, and even one in his hands.

“M- my dad said that you had a lot of perfect ideas for the invasion. B- but I- I found… I never thought…” His eyes never met yours as he continued to read the current scroll in his hands.

You slowly approached him, not caring as you walked over every word you wrote on the floor. “Sokka…” You silently begged him to stop reading, unsure of its contents.

He kept reading clearly in shock at the words before him, “why didn’t you s-say something?”

You sighed, somewhat unsure of how to approach the situation. “It’s not my place –“

He threw the scroll to the ground, finally looking up at you with bloodshot eyes as tears streamed down his face. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S NOT YOUR PLACE Y/N! It is your place! You had… no, you HAVE every right to say something! You sat there that night as I picked away at every single thing you ever loved, and you didn’t say a thing! Why would you let me do that to you!” Sobs wracked his body, falling to his knees in front of you. Torn apart on the inside about how much he hurt you. He never wanted this to happen, not just because of his small crush on you- that didn’t matter at this very moment. The very idea that he hurt someone who was so kind and selfless as a person, ruined him.

Beginning to feel immensely guilty for his current state, you knelt down to his level. Placing your hands to his wrists, you gently moved his hands away from his face. “Sokka… hey, Sokka look at me…”

As he looked at you, you struggled to keep your composure as tears began to fill your own eyes.

“It’s okay. What you said hurt, I don’t need to explain that for you to know it. Even though it felt like a small dig into who I am as a person and what I grew up to love, it’s true. What the Fire Nation did, what they are doing is awful, but I can’t speak up to defend them. I am in many ways apart of them. I grew up there, I celebrated their holidays, cooked and ate their food, and read their folktales. As much as I hate what the words ‘Fire Nation’ symbolises to the rest of the world, to you, it’s a part of who I am. No one can take that away from me, not even myself. Despite how much it hurt me, I can’t get mad at you or anyone because your feelings, and everything you said, is valid.” Moving his arms out of your grasp, he wrapped himself around you, holding you close to his chest.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to hear that, you’re amazing y/n. You deserve to be treated with the kindness and love you give to everyone on this ship. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I’m going to be better, I promise. I promise.” Overcome with emotion, the tears you tried so hard to hold back burst at his words.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

Neither you nor Sokka bothered to move from your intertwined embrace on the floor of your room. You were both a sobbing, crying mess. The pain from both of you suffocated the air around you as you cling onto one another for forgiveness.

Forgiveness for being from the very place that caused him so much pain.

Forgiveness for being unable to embrace so much of who you are.

The pain was unrelenting as he weaved his fingers through your hair, shifting so your noses’ and foreheads against one another as he whispered words begging for forgiveness. Wishing, praying, to the Spirits he could take it all away. Sokka’s heart burns from the raging pain that has awoken inside of him. He doesn’t stop running his fingers through your hair almost as if he can stroke away the broken pieces inside of you, looking for new ones underneath so he can start again. Because despite his resentment for where you came from, he knows that to him, you are like a divine angel. You both have your own complex and conflicting backgrounds of life, but he has a desperate desire to care for you in a way he will never be able to explain.

You wanted to lie to him. Say it didn’t hurt, say you could forget. You could do it easily, but you wouldn’t. Knowing you both suffered enough, you didn’t want to do something that could potentially cause each other more pain. This was enough. As you both continued to cry, holding one another with his hands still in your hair, you leant back slightly, bringing a shaky, tender hand to his cheek.

Looking up into his eyes, it’s awfully evident how much pain swims in his beautiful shades of blue. Yet, there seems to be an unspoken understanding as you see a small glimmer behind all the tears. The light you have been yearning for. He sees it in your eyes too. Neither of you can change or take back what’s already been said, but in this very moment there’s hope. You know you can move forward and heal together.

“We’re going to be okay.”

A/N: hi friends!! I hope you liked this one 😊

TO THE TAGLIST: hi all! i was a bit torn on what to do here because i wasn’t sure if you all only wanted to be tagged in my zuko series or my other works as well?? so im so sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged in this so please just let me know if you’d only like to be on the list for the series, zuko, sokka or other characters in general :)

TAGLIST: @slythergirlimagines​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @whiskeywinter89​​​ @kaylove12​​ @simplyfandomish​​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​ @callums-keith​ @ilovespideyyy​ @calciumcow​ @blackhood5sos​ @nnon-it-up​

[hemmingslftv]

can you do 22 with cal pls

Coward // C.H

Word count: 3k

Warnings: a bit of smut I guess but not really more than heated kisses, mention of anxiety and a bit of sadness too

Requested: based on the prompt “can I kiss you right now?”. Request are always open and they don’t have to be prompt based, feel free to request anything you want!

A/N: hi! I don’t know how to feel about this one. I’ve spent the whole day writing it and I still feel it could be better but I don’t hate it ig. I like that it has like flashbacks idk. I got kinda caught up in my own feelings so this may be too fluffy or cheesy. Feedback is really appreciated! I’d really love to know what you think about it. Enjoy!

Masterlist

You didn’t really like parties that much, but it was Luke’s birthday party, so you figured it would be rude not to go. You and Luke had been best friends since he moved to LA and somehow you had never been able to spend his birthday with him until this year, so you were excited.

You finished getting ready and headed to Luke’s house. It was a 10 minutes walk so before you could even realize it, you were already there. You would have lied if you had said you weren’t a bit nervous too. You knew it was gonna be crowded and you were afraid your anxiety would strike when you needed it the less.

Besides, it was gonna be the first time you saw Calum since quarantine started. You wouldn’t care if it wasn’t because the last time you saw him you told him how you felt. You had known Calum for a couple of years now. In the beginning, you saw him just like one of Luke’s bandmates but as time went by, you started falling in love with him. You tried to deny it even to yourself because you were convinced you had no chance with him but it didn’t make your feelings go away.

You had told Luke you liked Calum a couple of months ago. “I know” was his answer after you explained to him how you had silently fallen for his best friend. You weren’t even surprised, no one knew you better than Luke. What you didn’t expect was him telling you that you should go for it.

You were two years younger than Luke and from the moment you got close, he had acted like a big brother. He was always trying to protect you and rarely approved any of the boys you had been with. So it was quite a surprise when he told you he thought Calum may be the one for you.

“Oh, c’mon Luke. You’re giving me false hopes here... you know Calum would never go out with someone like me”

“What are you talking about, y/n? You’re the most awesome girl I know, and also the funniest, you know Calum loves that”

“I’m also younger than him, I’m sure he sees me just like you, like a little sister to protect. I’m not doing it, Luke, I don’t wanna lose him. I’ve gotten used to loving him in silence, it’s fine”

“Why have you told me then? You were hoping I’d say this. I think you are meant for each other, and you may be younger but you are way more mature than any of us. Don’t forget I know him too if I’m telling you that you should try it is because I really think it’s going to work”

You didn’t even know how but he had convinced you to invite Calum over that same day and as soon as he got to your house, Luke left the two of you alone. You could see the confused look Calum gave him as he said goodbye. “Good luck” he shouted as he closed the door making you blush.

“So... what are we doing here? I thought the rest of the guys were coming too”

“No, it’s just you and me tonight” you answered awkwardly. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“A beer will be fine”

You brought him a beer and served yourself a tequila, hoping the alcohol would give you the courage you lacked. You talked about your day and when you realized the conversation was dying out you decided it was time to tell him.

“So you’re probably still wondering what you’re doing here” he nodded in response “yeah, me too. Luke convinced me to do this and now I guess there’s no going back”. You shifted on your sit of the couch not knowing how to word your feelings. He was staring at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Okay, you know we’ve known each other for a couple of years now, right? well, of course, you know. We’ve spent quite a lot of time together, I’d say we’ve become good friends and I enjoy so much spending time with you because you always make me laugh and you are always there to listen and give advice when someone needs you. So I don’t know what I want to happen after I say this and I don’t know how to say this”

“Just say it y/n, it will be fine” he encouraged you. You took a deep breath and raised your head to look at him.

“I really like you Calum” he laughed and you gave him a confused look. “What?” you questioned.

“I like you too, y/n, you’re one of my best friends” you sighed and shook your head.

“No, that’s not what I mean Cal. I have feelings for you, I think I love you” you looked down and waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, you could feel the tears building up in your eyes. You felt Calum standing up from the couch. “Where are you going?” you managed to ask.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I can’t do this right now” you felt your heart break in a thousand pieces as you heard the door close and you called Luke.

“I don’t know what to say, y/n. I’m so sorry, I swear I thought he would react differently, I don’t know what’s up with him” Luke explained himself as he cuddled up with you. He stayed at your house that night and that was the last time you had seen any of them since quarantine had started just a few days later.

Of course, you had kept in touch with Luke, calling each other or facetiming almost every day, but you hadn’t heard of Calum since then. When Luke told you he’d be at the party your first reaction was to get mad at him for inviting you both but five minutes later you realized you were both his friends and there was no reason why Luke shouldn’t have invited him, you know? not liking you back wasn’t a crime after all.

Luke opened the door and all of your fears went away, you had missed him so much these last months that the only thing you could think about now was being with him. You went in, said “hello” to everyone who had already arrived and sat next to Luke.

“I’ve brought you something”, you said receiving a disapproving look from him. “Before you say it, I know you didn’t want any presents but I have never been with you on your birthday so please make an exception, besides, it’s not like I’ve spent a lot of money on it or whatever”.

You handed Luke his present and you could see the sparkle on his eyes while he opened it, you knew that deep inside he loved receiving gifts, he just hated people spending money on him. It was a book filled with polaroids of your favorite memories with him and you had written exactly how you had felt in those moments. You knew Luke would appreciate way more something handmade, personalized, and something you had spent your time in rather than something you had just bought.

“Oh wow, this is beautiful, y/n, I love you so much, thank you for taking the time to make this!” he told you while he hugged you and you couldn’t help but giggle at his excitement.

The night went by, as usual, nothing really out of the ordinary. Calum had arrived only a few minutes after you but you both had avoided each other the whole night. It hadn’t been hard since he spent most of the time in the kitchen playing games while you stayed in the living room talking to your friends.

A couple hours after midnight people started to leave and when everyone had gone, you, the band, and their girlfriends offered to help Luke clean all the mess. You were washing the dishes and glasses when you heard the door of the kitchen close. You turned around and saw Calum standing almost too close to you for your liking.

“Hello”, you said trying to be polite and hide the fact that you still felt embarrassed for opening up about your feelings. “Have you had a great night?” you asked him turning to continue your task and to try to hide your blush.

“It’s been great, yeah”, at the sound of his voice you felt a slight shiver running down your body, it felt like a lifetime since the last time you had heard it. Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips and his breath on your neck. You could feel the tension building up between you two but you didn’t know how to react so you kept washing.

At the lack of response from you, he moved to your side and started helping you. You sighed relieved at the same time as frustrated for the loss of contact. You kept going in silence until you had finished.

“It’s pretty late, I’m gonna head home”, you told him. You went to open the door but he grabbed your wrist making you turn and pulling you close to him.

“As you said, it’s late, let me give you a ride” he offered and you nodded. Luke opened the door and Calum let go of you.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked confused.

“Ha, ha, very funny. No, I was just offering y/n a ride home”

“Are you okay with that. y/n? If you wait for a second, I can drive you”

“No, that’s fine Luke. I’ll go with Calum” you answered. You were feeling the tension between you and Calum still growing and although you knew you may end up heartbroken once again, you were curious where it could lead to. You said your goodbyes and got in Calum’s car.

Calum put on some music and you closed your eyes trying to relax but all the tension came back to your body as Calum placed his hand on your thigh. You left a soft gasp and grabbed his hand as an instinct, but you didn’t pull it away. Calum started to draw small circles with his thumb and continued to move his hand slowly closer to your inner thigh. His touch felt so warm and familiar, it was comforting. You arrived home and Calum got out of the car almost instantly. It was fair to say you were more than confused by his behavior.

You got out of the car and were surprised by Calum quickly closing the door and pushing you against it.

“I know I’m an asshole but please, I am begging you, can I kiss you right now?” you nodded frantically and it took him less than a second to press his lips against yours. You opened your lips slightly desperate to finally taste him and he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He pushed your legs apart with his and you left a soft moan. After a few seconds, he pulled away and you could tell his eyes were filled with lust.

“What was that? I mean, you know how I feel about you so I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but why did you do it?”

“I am a mess for you, y/n. You are all I can think about. I’ve spent my days in quarantine looking at our photos together and remembering every moment I’ve spent with you. You don’t know how many times I’ve been about to call you but I never summoned up the courage to do it. I’ve liked you since the first time I saw you, at this time you’ve proved to me you’re the kindest and bravest person on this Earth and every time you give me more motives to fall in love with you. Luke advised you to tell me because all the band has known how I feel for years. I’m so sorry if I hurt you in any way, trust me, it was the last thing I wanted”

“Why did you leave? I’ve spent these few months trying to get over you. I don’t get it, Cal. You left me thinking I had lost one of the people I care for the most not only as a potential partner but also as a friend”

“I know, Luke told me. I really am sorry. I am such a coward. My first reaction was to run away because that’s what I always do when I feel vulnerable. You know I haven’t had a stable relationship in years and you’re part of the reason why. I could only imagine my future with you and I didn’t think it was fair to start something with anybody else if I thought it wasn’t going to last. I swear I’m not lying when I say you’re the only person I’ve thought about for the longest time. But I never got any sign from you that could mean you felt the same so I got used to my love for you being platonic. Besides I know you don’t like being on the public eye that much and it has given you anxiety the few times paparazzi have followed you with Luke so I thought we were better out as friends and I never tried anything.

And then when you confessed your feelings I tried to tell you how I felt but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. I started to think about being in a relationship and I got scared of commitment and everything it implies so I left. I don’t think I’ve ever regretted any decision as much as that one. I know I don’t deserve you to forgive me but, please, could you give me a second chance?”

“You know you could have fixed this before, right?”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry for that too. I thought you probably hated me and I didn’t know what to say exactly. If I’m being honest, until tonight, my plan was to act as if nothing happened and just try to be your friend again but then I saw you tonight with this little red dress that drives me crazy if I’m allowed to say so” you nodded and smiled at him “Well, I saw you and I talked to Luke and somehow I decided I would try to tell you tonight and if it didn’t work I’d leave you alone because that’s the least you deserve. You’ve possibly noticed I didn’t exactly have a plan but suddenly I just felt like I needed to be in contact with you, touch you, kiss you, as if I needed to hold on to you and never let go. As I’ve said, I am a mess, I am feeling things more intense than I ever had before that I don’t fully understand yet and just being around you makes me so happy I don’t ever wanna lose you. I love you, y/n”. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a short peck. You pressed your foreheads together, feeling each other’s breaths.

“I already told you, but I love you too, Calum, so much. You’re lucky I do because I don’t know if I’d give you a second chance otherwise” he sighed relieved.

“I have to warn you, you’re gonna have to be patient, I’m new to all of this” Calum said pointing at the two of you.

“What do you mean by “this”? A relationship?” you teased.

“I guess so, y/n, I’ve never done this before and it may be weird, old-fashioned or whatever but I feel like asking this would be a great start for our relationship. Y/n, do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

“Of course I do, you cheesy idiot!” you giggled and he kissed you again pressing you against the car for the second time. Your tongues danced perfectly synchronized as you played with the curls at the back of his head. You pulled them slightly and Calum let out a quiet moan, which was exactly what you were hoping for.

“Do you wanna come inside?” you asked as you bit your lip and shifted your position so that his back was pressed to the car now.

“As much as I’d love to say yes, I think we should take this slow. I don’t wanna rush it and screw things up” he said pulling a strand of hair off your face. You pouted making him giggle. “C’mon, let me at least take you out for a date first, what do you say about dinner tomorrow?”

“Fine, but I expect a great dessert after it” you winked at him and blushed right after. “Don’t mind me, I do stupid things when I’m horny”.

“It was cute”

“But it was supposed to be sexy” he laughed and you followed him. “I guess you’re gonna have to get used to your new girlfriend failing to be sexy”

“Trust me, you are sexy just by existing. So, do I pick you up tomorrow at 8?”

“That sounds perfect, Cal” he hugged you and you wrapped your arms around his torso “I’ve never said this before but your hugs have always made me feel safe, I’m so glad it’s not weird to say that out loud anymore”

“You are the cutest. But y/n, I really meant it when I said you are gonna have to be patient with me. I’m not used to being in a relationship or sharing my feelings but I promise I’ll try my best to make this work”

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out together, step by step. We need to earn each other’s trust first, it’s normal if you don’t feel like opening up just yet”

“You really are the kindest girl ever, how did I get this lucky?” you pulled away from his embrace.

“I’m gonna go to sleep, see you tomorrow Cal”

“See you tomorrow babe” you couldn’t help but blush at the pet name. You kissed him goodbye and got into your apartment happier than you had ever been.

“Congrats, mate!” Luke said once you had closed your door.

“What are you doing here, Luke? Were you watching us? That’s creepy man”

“Of course I was! Did you guys really think I was gonna leave the two of you alone after last time?”

“Fair enough”

“Although there was a point when I thought you were gonna get inside and that was awkward to watch but the point is that I’m glad you didn’t”

“Yeah, I told her it is better if we take things slow”

“I agree. By the way, don’t you dare hurt her again Calum or else I don’t know what I’ll do”

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on hurting her, I swear. In fact, I really like her Luke, I think she has always been the one”

“I know, I can tell by the huge smile that doesn’t leave your face” Luke teased him.

“Oh, shut up!” they both laughed and decided it was time to wrap up the night and head home.