#idk i was just thinking and then remembered

[lightsaroundyourvanity]

in the horrible wake of my own mother’s death I have thought about this post a lot because I remember so vividly that like the morning of carrie fishers death my mom and I were in a hotel room in Vancouver having the most gongshow all out fight of our lives and when we heard the news it just. ended. we were both too upset about carrie. I don’t think she eulogized herself as elegantly as carrie fisher ever did but the succincty of that moment we shared. idk. meant something then. means something now.

in the horrible wake of carrie fisher’s death i’ve still smiled every time i see “drowned in moonlight, strangled by her own bra” quoted anywhere and i can’t believe carrie fisher was so sharp and so funny that she preemptively came up with a line to comfort us about her own death

what a fucking rock star

[clowningcrows]

gotta confess that i watched wicked somewhat against my will and didn’t think i’d like it all that much/wouldn’t really understand the hype and yeah. yeah i was a fucking idiot. happy to report that i Completely get it now and i fear that i cannot stop thinking about it

[silencesscreams]

hiii, idk if ur still active but I love ur writing and I was wondering if u could maybe do a james smut with a Christmas theme! tyyy💓

Merry Christmas, I miss you

james potter x f!reader

summary: you and James have been broken up since Halloween. Until he calls you on Christmas Day after finding out that you both were spending the evening alone. (muggle+modern day au)

warnings: use of y/n, reader is shorter than James, swearing, smut (MDNI!), afab reader, nipple sucking, oral/fingering (f receiving), praise!!!, penetration, multiple orgasms(2), slight dom!james, reader has hair long enough to be stroked, kind of make-up sex tbh, unprotected + use of the pill, creampie, not proofread at all 😭

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! I immediately thought of this song, hope you like it <3

You hated spending Christmas alone.

When your family was getting plane tickets two months ago, you said you’d spend Christmas with James, who also cancelled his plans with his family, just for him to break up with you two weeks later.

There was no one you could spend the end of year holidays with, all of your friends were with their families or together.

James absolutely hated the silence in his apartment.

Sirius and Remus were spending the holiday together at cabin they found online and Peter had gone home to his family.

James hated having brought this upon himself.

Were you with somebody else out there? Were you meeting their family? Were they in your apartment?

It was killing him.

What he hated most of all was breaking up with you during a stupid fight which he didn’t even remember the reason why it happened. He just remembers being drunk and stupid.

So he called Sirius, because that was what he usually did when things went to shit, and also because Sirius was close to you and he would probably know what James had been asking himself for the past hour.

The phone rang about six times until he finally picked up.

“What do you want?”

“What do you think y/n is doing right now?” He heard Sirius groan.

“Why do you care about what she’s doing?” James didn’t answer. “She’s alone at her place, don’t call her.”

“You think I should call her?” He decided to ignore any advice that went against whatever he wanted.

“God, he’s so fucking confusing.” he heard Remus say.

“Moony, do you think I should call her?”

“James, you’re going to do whatever you want, aren’t you?”

“Always, but that’s not the point.”

“Do what your heart says and leave us alone pleeeeaseee!” Sirius said and hung up.

James dialed your number on his phone, he memorized it so there was no real meaning to why he deleted it a while ago.

When you read the name on your phone’s screen once it started vibrating you thought you’d faint.

You wished that he had butt dialed you, or that maybe he called the wrong person. You knew you were wrong.

“James?” You said as you picked up and paused the TV in front of you.

“y/n. Hi, merry Christmas.” He sat up straight on the couch. “What are you doing?”

You couldn’t believe him.

“What?” You asked, even though you heard him clearly the first time.

“What are you doing tonight?”

So he was booty calling you on Christmas, was that it?

“I’m currently watching every single sitcom Christmas episode I can think of. You?”

“I’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past three hours. Are you by yourself?”

“Yes.” You replied, almost whispering. You couldn’t understand him.

“Me too. Can I come pick you up? We could maybe watch every single sitcom Christmas episode together. I have some food here.” He was already getting up and putting on his shoes outside of the apartment.

“Sure.”

You sighed after hanging up, what could go wrong? You’d go, you’d eat his food, you wouldn’t hook up with him and you’d be home by midnight. It was fine. Everything was under control.

Until you got into his car.

Until you felt his smell, the three in one shampoo that had the sweetest smell a three in one shampoo could ever have.

“Hey, you look great.” He said, looking at you as you put on the seatbelt.

“Thanks, you too.”

“Did you change your hair?” James asked, starting to drive.

“Kind of, yes.” You looked out the window and then back at him. “You look the same.”

He let out a small laugh. “I do.”

It was usually a 10 minute drive from your apartment to his, in which you awkwardly played with the hem of your skirt and made small talk.

“I have some frozen pizza at home, we could make popcorn too if you like, I bought one of those air popping machine things a few weeks ago. Actually, Sirius got that.” He said as he parked the car on the empty street in front of the apartment complex.

“I’d like that.”

Maybe you believed everything was still in control until you entered his apartment, the floor was cold and you left your shoes at the door. He locked it behind you.

“You remember the place don’t you?” You nodded. “There’s a few blankets and a sweater on the couch and you can turn on the TV if you want to. I’ll take the pizza out of the freezer and get the popcorn machine ready.”

You decided on starting with The Office’s season two Christmas episode, then you watch the other eight. Or you’d move to New Girl, then maybe Brooklyn 99, possibly Seinfeld.

“Bad news!” You heard James say from the kitchen. “Theres no corn to pop” he said, coming out and looking at you sitting on the couch.

“It’s alright, how about we watch this one and then I can help you out with the pizza?” You moved to the right side of the couch, inviting him to sit on your left.

You did realize you had no control over anything once he sat and instinctively wrapped his left arm around your shoulder. That might’ve also been when he realized he had no control.

“What are we watching?” He asked as you covered your legs with the blanket on the couch, he pulled some of it to himself and shared with you, your knees touching under it.

“I thought we could start by the office, we obviously won’t watch all of them, so we can move to New Girl afterwards, then maybe we could do Brooklyn 99 or Seinfeld because I know you like those two.” You looked at him and he hummed.

“That’s a good plan.” You smiled at him and started the episode.

When Micheal started talking about the Yankee Swap, James took his left arm from off your shoulder and put it under the covers to scratch his calf. You missed the feeling of him over your shoulders, until he rested his hand on your upper knee.

You felt your entire body go hot until the end of the episode, when he took the blanket from off you both and supported himself on your thigh to get up from the couch, ‘accidentally’ giving it a light squeeze. You thought you were about to go insane and paused the TV, maybe it really was a Christmas booty call.

“I only have pepperoni, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you put it in the oven? I’ll get us something to drink.”

“Sure.” He brushed his hand against your waist as he moved behind you to open the fridge.

“There’s Diet Coke, wine and orange juice.” He looked back at you.

“Wine.” You answered, watching him take the bottle out along with a can of Coke.

“Aren’t you going to drink with me?” You grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and moved next to him.

“I have to drive you home.” He smiled at you.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” You smiled back at him.

“I can’t let you walk or uber home.” He put your hair behind your ear.

“I could crash here, if there’s space for me.” You almost whispered, looking at him doe eyed.

“There’s always space for you in my bed.” He stated, his voice low as he poured wine into both of the glasses.

He watched you take a sip and realized you were holding back a laugh.

“What is it?” He smiled.

“This sucks.” You giggled softly. He took a sip from his glass and made a face.

“Oh my god,” he laughed “you have to blame Remus though, I don’t think I bought wine more than once in my entire life.” You smiled, remembering the bottle he brought to your house on your third date. He moved closer to you, resting his hands on your waist.

“I’m sorry about the wine.” He whispered and you felt his breathing against your face, you hummed and looked up at him, moving your hands to the back of his neck, gently stroking his hair.

“Fuck.” He whispered, looking into your eyes. He slowly leaned in, you could feel your heartbeat as he got closer to you. You felt his lips brush against yours and then his phone’s alarm went off, scaring the both of you.

“The damn pizza” he muttered, turning off the oven but not taking the food out. You leaned against the counter and looked at James, who put his hands on your waist again, asking you “Where were we?”, making you laugh for the first time in a while.

You threw your hands over his neck as he hugged you so tightly that you thought maybe you both could merge into one.

“I missed you.” You whispered into his ear.

“Yeah?” He teased you and you hummed. “I missed you so much, love.” He started kissing your neck, holding you tightly by your lower waist.

“I’m so sorry. For everything.” He pulled away, looking into your eyes. “Let me make it up to you, please.” You nodded.

He brought his lips to yours and kissed you quickly.

“Use your words.” He muttered against your mouth and your breath hitched.

“Yes, please.” You replied and he brought his lips back against yours, this time you parted your mouth and he let his tongue slip into it. His lips moved hungrily against yours, the hands on your waist quickly moving to cup your ass firmly. Before you knew it, you were moving against him, glad you’d chosen to wear a skirt as breathy moans slipped from your lips against his.

All of a sudden James pulled his lips away from yours,

“Go to my room, I’ll be there in a second.” He said, pointing to the corridor.

You left the door open and sat on his bed, waiting for him. Everything was the same, except for the photograph of the both of you he had framed and left on his desk, which was now nowhere to be seen. He came into the room with something behind his back.

“I got this for you in November, in case we saw each other today. I know it’s not much but it reminded me of you.” He handed you a black corduroy box, which had a gold necklace with a small heart pendant.

“Oh James, this is so pretty.” You looked at him smiling and closing the box and putting it on his nightstand “I’ll put it on later, thank you so much.”

“Let me make everything up to you, I truly am sorry.” He said, taking off his glasses and sitting in front of you on the bed. You put your hands behind his neck and pulled him in, kissing him gently as he moved closer to you, his knee between your legs.

You laid down and his mouth started to make its way to your neck, giving it soft kisses then gently biting and sucking, making sure to leave a few marks. Meanwhile, his hands trailed their way to your breasts, going under your already loose bra and playing with your nipples. He quickly helped you take off your shirt, also removing his own.

James quickly kissed your mouth and started to trail small kisses from it to your right nipple, which he brought to his mouth and sucked on, nipping at it with his front teeth every once in a while, meanwhile his left hand stimulated your other nipple.

Your hands moved to his hair, stroking it and tugging on it every once in a while, leading to groans that would send vibrations to your breasts.

Suddenly, he pressed his knee against your damp underwear as you desperately tried to get more friction from it, until he held down your hips.

“Let me help you, baby.” he hummed against your chest. “I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry.”

He helped you take off your skirt as you raised your hips, tossing it next to the bed and kissing your tummy, making his way down to your underwear, lowering it and kissing the skin right above your slit, almost where you needed him the most. He started to kiss your inner thighs, going up to your clothed core, pressing another kiss right on top of your covered clit, making you moan as he took off your panties, carefully placing them on top of your skirt on the floor.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, his breath fanning against your pussy.

He started slowly at first, licking from your entrance to your clit, sucking it in the most careful way he could. Until you couldn’t hold back your moaning and you remembered how James Potter gave head like a starved man.

He held your thighs open as he sucked on your sensitive bud and fucked two fingers into you, making your back arch and causing you release the most incoherent sentences from your mouth, a mix of swearing, the word god and his name, but really, in that moment, the later two were probably the same to you.

Your hands tugged onto his hair as you reached your high, he looked up at you and kept stimulating your clit with his thumb, inserting a third finger into your hole.

“Cum for me, honey.” He said, sensing you were close to your high and going back to sucking your bud.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you moaned out his name, squeezing his head in between your thighs as he carried you through your orgasm.

Once you were finished, James moved up to kiss you. His mouth moving hungrily against yours.

“I want you.” you said as you pulled away, looking into his eyes.

“You already have me, sweetheart.” He smiled, getting up to get something to clean you up with. You pulled him back by the wrist.

“No, I want you in me. Please. ‘Need more.” You said lowly, giving him a quick peck.

“You sure?” You knew he wanted it too, he just wanted to make you feel good and forget about himself for the rest of the night.

“Yes, please James.” You replied, pulling him by the wrist again once he went to reach for a condom in the nightstand drawer. “I want to feel you. I’m on the pill, please.”

He smiled, taking off his sweatpants and going on top of you, his knees pressed against the mattress next to your thighs as he kissed you, tilting your head to deepen it.

He started kissing your neck, giving soft pecks on the marks he had left behind earlier, while taking his length out of his underwear and lining himself up against your entrance, teasing you with his tip as you practically begged him to get inside of you.

“Patience, baby.” He muttered, slowly starting to thrust into your needy hole whilst pulling your right leg up and bending it, almost making your leg shin touch your thigh as he tried to go as deep as possible.

You couldn’t help but moan out his name once he started thrusting and kept hitting the most perfect spot he could whilst stimulating your bean with his thumb. You clenched around his cock as he started to thrust rapidly into you.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so good.” He’d whisper in between grunts in your ear while you scratched his back in pleasure. “So- mhm so good for me, baby.” He said, his mouth clashing against yours, his tongue entering your mouth as you opened it. You clenched your pussy around him and you both can’t help but moan into each other’s mouths, his thrusts getting faster and his grunts and moans only louder, showing you how close he also is.

You felt your second orgasm building up as he pinched your clit and you squealed onto his tongue, your teeth clashing, causing him to pull away and smile against your mouth, his teeth against your lips.

“Are you close, princess?” He whispered and you replied with a nod, your nose against his cheek. He thrusted quickly and made circular motions on your clit at the same pace. “Hm, cum for me baby, cum on my cock.” He commanded as you reached your second high, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss you again. The kiss was sloppy as he shot his load into you and you clenched around him, his thrusts faltering.

He collapsed right next to you, grabbing his glasses on the bedside table to look at you properly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He praised you, smiling as he stroked your hair. “Thank you for picking up. Thank you for being here. For everything.” He whispered.

“Thank you for calling.” You smiled.

“The pizza’s probably cold.” He muttered, looking at his bedroom door.

“I don’t care.” You gave him a peck. “Merry Christmas, James.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[softness-and-shattering]

(Could someone please do an image description, I cant rn)

Youre making a good point, which is that life is more complicated than a story. The shooter isnt Katniss Everdeen in one fell swoop taking down the bad guy and we live in peace forevermore. Theres no one Bad Guy to kill and the empire crumbles. And even if there was, even if a leftist armed revolution would change things for the better, its a proces, and dreaming of glory and violence doesnt actually help the people on the ground, the ones who are most vulnerable who will die without meds and medical equipment and electricity and food and other very specific conditions I havent thought of. Even if a brief period of lawlessness would leave us a better world, youd have to sacrifice the modt vulnerable to get there and then who are you even building the world for anyway? Even being jailed long enough to miss a couple shifts and lose their job can ruin someone.

There needs to be a systemic change and it needs to be careful and thorough. Its gonna be a lot of ordi nary people and unsung heroes doing a lot of really boring but vital work.

I dont know if this dituation will make things worse in the long run, I think a lot probably depends on what goes down in the next few weeks to maybe months, idk how long this kind of thing takes. The true ripple effects might not even be properly visible for a generation, its hard to know what something means when we're experiencing it.

But yeah theres never gonna be one hero and one action that changes everything. Symbols are important and inspiration is important but alone they do nothing. It takes a lot of boring thankless work to make lasting change. And thats not a bad thing. Its just a thing to know.

And as always, remember Mangione is innocent till proven guilty. Dont let the media and the way everyones talking about him influence you to treat him as guilty, whether youre condemning or glorifying him or anything in between. Mangione is not the same person as the shooter unless and until its proven by fair trial.

Upholding Luigi Mangione as a class hero isn't actuality helping anything; not because killing the ceo was wrong (it wasn't) but because the man still maintains his innocence. You're doing no better than the cops and fraction of the public against the shooter's actions by treating Mangione as if he's unequivocally guilty.

Redirect your energy to fighting the police's bullshit prosecution and blatant public defamation of his image. Stop supporting him on the grounds of heroic actions. Support him on the grounds of there's still literally no proof he actually fucking did anything.

[aerial-aceing-it]

So, how do people even get a porygon. Are they just… around? You can’t like. Find them anywhere right. Just in the grass.

[leesromanova]

dust collected on my pinned up hair

pairing: natasha x reader

warnings: angst, hurt reader, happy/hurt/guilty nat, idk they're both hurting, marrige, cursing, self-criticism, lots of feelings. (i’m sorry)

synopsis: you go on your usual coffee run and bump into your ex, who if it wasn’t for the mutual break up, would have been the one.

a/n: i love angst lol. blame my over active imagination and taylor swift. thank you all for continuing to support and read my works <3

to put y’all in the mood i recommend listening to ↴

The line seemed endless. Bodies upon, bodies of caffeine addicts waiting to be serviced.

The energy of a busy New York coffee shop at 8am was truly a sight to see for any newbie to the city—thank god, you were accustomed to the rude grogginess of the baristas and the lines to wait for your wanted—no, needed, yet still overpriced coffee.

You hear the door open again as a small bell atop of the frame is triggered by the entering customer. The chill breeze of the city winter rips through the space, making you shiver and wrap your coat around yourself a bit tighter. Cool air creeping through the fibers of the winter coat you were sporting made you need that coffee a bit more urgently.

“Next in line!” the line moved as you pulled out your phone and took a step forward. You scroll through your notifications, looking for anything you had missed in your previous peak, before feeling a tap on your shoulder. Your first reaction is to look up with a rather hostile look in your eyes at whoever intruded your non-social, pre-caffeine headspace.

“Natasha?” your eyebrows crinkle at the sight of the woman in front of you. Her smile genuine as she looks down at you.

“Hi, stranger” she says, the raspy voice bringing back memories of a not-so-forgotten time in your past. She moves her arm around you to pull you into a side hug, you accept it—a bit stiffly and pull away, taking in her appearance.

She looked professional yet still casual and comfortable, a combination that always suited her quite well—at least the version you had gotten to know in your past. Her red locks in a neat braid that swept across her head and onto her shoulder, a few framing strands left out on the sides. Her eyes were more worn on the sides—the start of crows feet present besides her lashes.

Her eyes were the same, still the same shade of captivating green.

“How are you? How have you been?” she asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. Her voice coming out a bit rougher than how you remembered. Maybe it was caused by the cold air or, maybe it was just the other way the few years had affected her.

You look down and pocket your phone, “I’ve been okay, just y’know…holding up,” you watch as the person ahead of you steps forward, prompting the both of you to move up and fill the gap. You shift to the side, and make room for the redhead to stand beside you. The scent of her perfume lingers in the air, stirring up memories of the past.

“How about you? What have you been up to, besides finding ways to cut-in-line at random coffee shops?” she lets out a huff of air as she turns to look at you “I was leaving when saw you…so I decided I should come and say hi," she looks at you with an amused expression.

you smile and hum in acceptance, letting her continue. She takes a breath before starting, "I've been okay—for the most part. Just trying to keep up with what life throws at me." She smiles and puts her hands in her pockets. You wonder if they were just as rough as how you remembered, or if they’d grown more calloused with time.

"Are you cold?" you ask, still looking at her now-concealed hands. She turns to look at you, you meet her eyes, and she lifts a brow "I've told you before how we Russians don't get cold," she says before continuing "that’s something you should've remembered." her voice carries as the last words enter your ears and without thinking you respond.

"I remember lots of things."

You feel the energy around you both change as the words leave your lips and you cringe as you watch her body visibly stiffen. Your brutally honest word choice must’ve reminded her of the reason why it had been so long since the two of you spoke.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Sometime in the past 2 years

“Natasha… I just can’t do this anymore.” The words choke in your throat as you pace in front of her in the living room of your shared apartment. Every step you take feels like it’s pulling you further from everything you once wanted, but you can't stop yourself. You can barely breathe, the emotion inside you holding your lungs down. Your eyes move to look at Natasha, and everything inside you screams to hold on.

“I’ve always been here for you,” you continue, voice cracking. “Always. I kept waiting, hoping you’d open up to me, just like I did for you, bare an-and vulnerable.” Your voice cracks making you take a steadying breath before continuing, pointing a shaking finger toward her. “I put my heart on the line, expecting the same... but I never got it. And when you finally did open up... I was there. I loved you through the dark days, the lonely nights. I stayed, Natasha. I stayed through everything, and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.” Your words spill out like a dam breaking, but the anger, the frustration, the heartbreak—none of it makes the pain go away.

You want to somehow make it work, to find the missing piece that would make her open up fully. You wanted this to work more than anything. But the hard truth is, you don’t know just how much more you can keep giving without receiving the same in return. You’ve poured so much of yourself into this relationship—your love, your patience, your vulnerability—but now it feels like you’re just…empty. Every night you lie awake, hoping that tomorrow will be the day she finally opens up to you the way you’ve been opening up to her, and every day feels like another unanswered question, an in-life purgatory you can’t escape.

Your fingernails find their way into the flesh of your palms, the sharpness grounding you, but it doesn’t help.

Her heart tears in two as she watches you like this, feeling like a failure. She feels it deep inside—your hurt, your exhaustion, the years of unspoken emotions—and she knows, with crushing certainty, that no matter how much she loves you, she can’t undo the damage. You’re the one person who has always been there, who’s loved her unconditionally, who’s been so patient, so willing to fight for the relationship. She’s failed you. It wasn’t enough. Nothing she did was enough. She loved you—God, she loved you so much—but somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to give you the one thing you needed most: her whole heart. Every single time you reached out, she recoiled, afraid that if she gave you more of herself, she’d lose herself in the process. She knew loving you would mean taking the risk of loosing herself within the beauty that was to love just as hard as you did. 

She doesn’t know how to love you the way you need.

She lifts her head, eyes red, blurry with unshed tears, and glances at your hands, fingers still digging into your skin like you're trying to hold yourself together, as the nails cut through the layers of flesh on your palms. The pieces of yourself feeling like they're falling through your fingers like water. She hurts seeing you like this, she knew you did it to feel control in moments where you felt that control slip away—she’d had been trying to help you stop it, to show you that hurting yourself wouldn't heal anything, but now, she feels just as lost. She feels herself drowning in guilt. 

She’s the one who’s made you feel like this, hasn’t she? 

A warm, trembling hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you out of the darkness of your thoughts along with herself–trying to claw her way out of her guilt. Her touch is gentle, almost too gentle, as if she’s afraid you’ll break if she holds on too tight. She guides your fingers away from your skin, but the ache in your chest only deepens. She’s trying to fix you–to help you, not acknowledging that she needed it as well. And neither of you knew how to do it.

What’s the hell is wrong with me? 

The question cuts deeper than anything she’s ever felt. 

Why can’t I just give her what she needs? 

I love her. 

I love her so much. 

Why isn’t that enough?

“I feel horrible,” she whispers, her voice thick with tears. When you meet her eyes, they’re filled with more pain than you’ve ever seen in them. It tears through you. You wanted to help her, to make her feel loved and safe, but all you've done is hurt her. You've made her feel like she's failing, like she’s not enough, and the guilt is suffocating. She wants to tell you how much she loves you, wants to apologize, to make it better, but she knows deep down that no amount of apologies can fix the damage done. 

You swallow, but your throat is tight, your chest heavier than it’s ever been. "You’re right. You always did the right things. You said the right words. You showed me you loved me, but… I couldn’t see it. I didn’t feel it the way I needed to, and I hate myself for that. I hate that I couldn't be enough for you, Natasha." Your voice breaks at the end, a sound that rips through you, as if you're breaking apart inside. Not enough for her to give you her all. “I’m so sorry. So sorry for making you feel like you weren’t enough.” Making her feel like she hadn’t been giving you enough because she couldn’t give you want you wanted—craved. The sudden realization makes you heave as you reel about you both hurting each other unwillingly—how could something so good turn into something so hurtful?

The weight of your own apology hangs in the air, suffocating, because you don't know how to fix this anymore. You don’t know how to make her stop feeling like she’s a failure when all she’s ever done is try. 

Her heart shatters as you speak. She sees the pure hurt in your eyes, feels the way you’re pulling away from her. it crushes her to know she's the one that hurt you, the one that made you feel as if you weren't enough. Every word you say is a reminder that she’s failed. She’s tried so hard to be the person you need, to show you how much she loves you, but every time she’s gotten close to letting herself go the crippling fear of falling too deep holding her back. 

“I wish I could change,” she says, voice barely audible, but you hear the depth of her regret in every word. She places her hand over her heart, almost as if trying to stop the pulsating ache there. “I don’t want you to suffer with my shit anymore. I don’t want to drag you through this anymore… but I don’t know how to fix me.” She looks at you, her tears falling freely now. “I hate that I can't give you everything you need. I hate that I couldn't be the person you deserved."

You feel every ounce of her guilt like a physical blow, and it’s suffocating. You wish there was something you could say to make her feel better, but the truth is, you're not sure if you even deserve to make her feel better right now. You've failed her too, in so many ways.

Maybe I’m not enough for her. Maybe I never was. 

The thought stings, like a shock against your skin. You can’t help but feel that maybe you’ve failed, that you’re the real reason things fell apart, not Natasha. But as you look at the redhead, her guilt hanging heavy in the air, you realize there’s not just one person to blame, there’s not only one person responsible for this. You’ve both been afraid. Afraid of fully trusting, of letting the walls down completely, of letting each other in.

And now? Now, it feels like it’s too late.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” she says, her voice cracking. “You deserve so much better than me. You deserve someone who can love you with everything they have, without holding back... and I’m not her. I can't be that person." Her eyes search yours, desperate for some sign, some glimmer of hope, but all she finds is a reflection of her own pain.

Staring at her tear-streaked face, the realization hits you like a punch to the gut: it’s not going to happen. It’s not because you haven’t tried, and it’s not because she doesn’t love you—she does, so much, and you can see it in her eyes. But love isn’t enough. 

I can’t keep waiting for something that’s never going to come. 

I can’t keep hurting like this. 

You’re shaking now, but it’s not from anger. It’s from the unbearable truth that lingers in the space between you. The love you had, the connection you both tried so hard  to hold onto, is slipping away, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

“I think…” you can barely get the words out, but they’re there, hanging in the air like the inevitable. "I think you’re right." Your voice cracks, your heart shattering with the weight of those words. You’ve known for so long, deep down, that this was coming. The back and forth, the exhaustion, the constant battle to make her open up, to make her let you in—it was destroying both of you, and it would never change. The months of fighting—wanting her to open up, to show you the real her, nothing was working as it should be. You had been fighting against something inevitable.

You run your thumb over her knuckles, trying to find comfort in the familiar motion, but it feels hollow now. “We’ve tried, Natalia,” you whisper, your heart breaking with every syllable. “We’ve tried to make this work, but I can’t keep pretending it’s going to be okay. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I don’t want you to hurt for me anymore.”

Her tears fall harder now, as if the weight of your decision has broken something inside of her. You both sit there, silently, broken and exhausted from a love that was never enough. Neither of you knows how to fix what’s been destroyed. As she looks at you, so broken, so utterly lost, she feels like she’s watching her own heart crack in two.

You both sit in silence as the sounds of the city bleed into the apartment and circle the two of you.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

“Next!” the barista’s tired voice carries through the space of the café, and makes you both turn to reach the counter. Your cheeks warm and tinged a shade of red at your earlier admission.

“Uh, can I get an iced blond vanilla late, with an extra pump of vanilla, and sweet foam with Carmel drizzle on top?” you order and look over at the redhead who was diligently staring at the side of your face.

She wondered how you hadn’t changed. Time seemed to have left you untouched. While she felt it’s weight etched into her face and mind—you were still the same. With the same coffee order, at the same coffee shop, the same you.

“W-would you like anything?” you ask, stuttering at the gaze she held.

“I’m okay,” she turns to the barista, “That’ll be all.” she completes your order out of habit as you pull out your card to pay.

the barista asks for your name and you both utter a thanks to the young woman, who doesn’t return the pleasantry as you both walk off to the side. The silence, between you both not unwanted, but definitely heightening your anxiety at the unexpected meeting.

You were not dressed to be seeing your ex at a coffee shop.

“Would you like to sit?” you clear your throat and ask, finding a table with two chairs. She smiles and looks at her watch. “Yeah—yeah, I got enough time” she says, sitting down beside you and looking out at the busy streets of the city that never sleeps.

She loved it here, her time in other continents and cities made her realize just how at home the city lights and sirens made her feel, just how at home the people in her life made her feel.

The light of the rising sun reflects off of the glass windows of tall buildings and illuminate her face. Her nose had stayed the same, the feature being something you loved about her even if she said she hated it from time to time. She turns and catches you staring. You to look away and clear your throat as she smiles warmly. She always liked that about you, so attentive to everyone around you.

Stop staring. You mentally kicked yourself for being caught.

“Y’know…you still order your coffee as if you hate the taste of it.” she teases, her hands motioning to the receipt that outlined the specific order you gave. A smile grows as you turn to look at her and laugh softly at her face of accusation. “I swear, you get the sugariest thing on the menu.” she continues, making you laugh a little louder.

Your laugh was the same–she noticed, your smile the same, but your eyes now held a few winkles at the sides as the joy spread over your face. She smiles at you then and leans back in the uncushioned, tall stool.

You roll your eyes and remove your gloves, “hey, before you tease just know you traumatized me with your coffee order,” she looks at you questioningly, making you lean in “Nat, you order a black coffee with like two sugars and call that a coffee order.” she laughs, her cheeks tinting a wonderful shade of red as she answers “It’s a legitimate coffee order y/n, that’s why they make me pay and why I made you try it.” her voice raspy as ever as it leaves her lips. “Oh yeah, trust me I know. I can still feel it on my taste buds and recoil every time I think about it.” she looks at your now very serious expression with a raised brow, and you both break into a shared cackle.

As the laughter settles, you both look at each other. Familiarity and warmth returning to your veins, you missed her. Sure, it had been more than enough time for you to get over her, but you never truly did. Everyone told you it was time to move on, but you never did, hoping, praying, manifesting that maybe one day you could fix things and reunite with the love of your life.

You went out with people, met other singles, dated—but no one made you feel what she did.

"So, how’s work?" you ask, your fingers nervously fiddling with the paper wrapping of a straw that was left on the table by some other customer. She glances down at your hands, noticing how your nails are no longer bitten or ragged, your palms free of the crescent-shaped marks that used to linger there. She smiles softly, noticing how you'd managed to break those anxious habits.

"It’s been good," she replies, her voice warm. "We got some new teammates in—I'm sure you saw it on the news." She looks into your eyes, smiling as she sees the familiar focus in your gaze. That hadn't changed either.

You nod and smile back, leaning in as she continues. "One of them is named Wanda. She's brilliant—you'd love her. Amazing sense of humor, and the best style. I know you’ve always been into fashion."

You chuckle softly, the memory of how you used to carefully pick out your outfits coming back. "That’s nice. So, you and her are close?" you ask, your voice lighter than you feel. It's easy to fall back into the rhythm with her. Conversations with her never felt draining, never like you were just filling silence. At least, it didn’t, not before everything went wrong.

"Yeah," she says, smiling shyly, but her eyes drop to her hands. And that's when you see it. The ring.

The world seems to blur for a moment as your eyes lock onto the silver band adorning her finger. Simple, yet undeniably there. Your mind races, struggling to catch up, focusing on the details—an engraving, some flowers, maybe lilies? You remember how she always loved those.

The sound of her voice cuts through your thoughts. "Y/N?"

You snap back to reality, but it feels like your heart is still racing. You blink, meeting her gaze. The concern in her eyes is unmistakable, but it's not for you. She's moved on.

“Order for y/n!” the barista yells, and you turn, smiling tightly at Nat before getting up to retrieve your coffee.

God, how had you not seen it before? Was it always there? How long ago did she become so open? So willing to let someone in, that she’d actually gotten married?

The questions hit you like a wave, crashing over your mind with unbeatable force.

You make yourself look away, desperate to regain control of your thoughts. You tuck some hair behind your ear, trying to ground yourself, and take a long sip of your cold drink, the ice crunching between your teeth. It does nothing to ease the nausea building in your stomach.

“I—uh, I was looking at your wedding band,” you mutter, feeling the words slip out awkwardly. Your gaze drifts back to her fingers, the ring glinting in the sunlight. She follows your stare, quietly adjusting her hand, almost as if she’s waiting for this moment to land.

“Oh, um… yeah," she clears her throat, her voice sounding a little tighter than before. "Me and Wanda... we, uh... I proposed a few months ago,” she adds, looking down at the ring, tracing the engravings with her fingers. Finally, she meets your eyes, and for a brief second, it feels like everything you thought you knew about her is slipping away. This wasn’t the Natasha who used to laugh at your bad jokes, or the one who whispered your name in the quiet of your shared apartment, the one who whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you laid naked in bed after you’d had sex. No, this was a version of her you did not know.

“Oh.” The word barely leaves your mouth as you nod slowly, but it’s enough to echo in the silence between you two. It’s all you can manage, the word feeling too small, insignificant.

What else could you say?

You want to bury your face in your hands.

God, Y/N, think of something better. Say something better.

The words feel hollow, useless, as they form in your mind. The words don’t feel like your own. They feel forced, clumsy, like you’re trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping through your fingers. You hate how it feels. You hate how she feels like a stranger to you now, someone you don’t know anymore, someone who has moved on without you.

"Congratulations," you finally say, the words coming out flat, lifeless. Your smile feels too tight, too forced. You can feel it pulling at the corners of your lips as your body instinctively turns inward, the discomfort sharp and heavy.

Congratulations? Are you fucking serious?

She notices, of course—how could she not? Her eyes flicker with concern, watching as your posture shifts, your guard rising. But it’s too late. You’re already pulling away.

What the hell did I just say?

The self-criticism is almost suffocating.

Congratulations?

You want to slap your forehead, but you settle for simply glancing up at her. Her gaze is locked onto you now, intense and unwavering. It’s like she’s trying to reach you through the growing distance between you two, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve lost her... that you never really had her.

The sound of the coffee shop fade as your own internal dialogue takes over, mocking you.

You’re pathetic, it whispers.

You haven’t moved on.

You never really let go.

You glance around the coffee shop. There’s a woman in the corner smiling at her boyfriend—no husband, the wedding ring sparkling as she holds his cheek, a group of tourists chatting loudly about going to watch some play on Broadway, someone in the backline swiping through their phone, you can see the TikTok home screen from your place in the corner of the café.

But you can’t hear them. All you hear is the hollow beat of your own heart, pounding painfully in your chest, as if it knows that this moment is the end of something—something you still thought was possible.

It feels like you’re drowning, surrounded by noise, by life moving forward, while you’re stuck here in this tiny moment, unable to breathe.

Her eyes flicker with concern, noticing how your posture shifts, how you stiffen at the words that should have felt normal, casual. But they don’t. They can’t.

There’s nothing casual about this.

Nothing normal.

Not when your heart is bleeding under the weight of a past you can’t shake, a future you never thought you’d face.

You try to steady yourself, but you can feel the walls you’ve built around your emotions crumbling.

She’s married, Y/N. She’s married. Get over it.

But you can’t.

You feel a pang of guilt. Natasha’s gaze is warm, but there’s an ache in her eyes too—something that makes your heart hurt in a different way. She’s trying. She’s not the woman you left behind. But then again, neither are you. Neither is she.

Her hand rests, trembling, on the table now. She wants to reach out to you, but she’s scared of pushing too hard. You can see it in her eyes—she’s uncertain. She’s terrified of what you might say. Terrified of making it worse. Her fingertips brush against the edge of the table, hesitant, before pulling away. She’s probably wondering if she’s done the right thing. Wondering if she was wrong to move on, to make this decision without you, without this—whatever you two were. She watches you, her gaze softening as if she wants to comfort you, but she doesn’t know how. She doesn’t even know where to begin. She could try to reach for you, but she knows it might make things worse.

"Are you okay?" Natasha asks softly, her voice trembling slightly. She’s staring at you now, as if trying to understand what’s happening inside your head, but you don’t have an answer for her. You don’t even have an answer for yourself.

The silence stretches between you two, heavy with unspoken words, as the noise of the coffee shop crashes around you both, a stark reminder that the world keeps moving. And in it, Natasha is moving forward, and you... you’re left behind.

She regrets it. She regrets this—this distance. This moment. She wants to take it all back. To fix this. To fix you. But she can’t.

The weight of the regret hits her, and she breathes out a slow, steadying breath, her hand trembling on the table. She can feel it too, the unbearable tension between you both, the space that feels like a chasm even though you’re only inches apart.

But you—you’re the one who’s drowning, trying to keep your head above the weight of the memory and the feeling that you were never enough.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, almost too quietly to hear. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like this.” Her voice cracks, and she looks away for a second, almost as if she can’t stand seeing you like this, can’t bear the thought of how much she’s hurt you.

But the truth is, she’s already lost you.

And she’s the one who will never be able to move on.

Her words cut deeper than she knows, because you can’t help but wonder—does she really not know? Has she been so caught up in her own life that she hasn’t seen how much this is tearing you apart? Or is it just that she’s moved on, and this is all just… a part of the past to her?

The thought makes your chest tighten. Your breath feels shallow, and you find yourself squeezing your cold drink harder, trying to steady the storm inside. You swallow, but it feels like there’s a lump lodged in your throat, blocking any response. You want to scream, to tell her everything, to make her understand how much it hurts to see her here, happy, with someone else. But the words are gone—lost in the space between your need to cry and the reality of the life she’s chosen without you.

“Why?” The word slips out before you can stop it, raw and desperate and hurt. You didn’t mean to ask it—didn’t want to ask it—but you can’t help it. You need to know.

Natasha’s heart aches at the sound of your voice, the fragility in it. For a moment, she feels as though the floor beneath her might give way. She had hoped—hoped—that you would be okay. That this wouldn’t hurt so much. But the pain is evident, like a raw wound, and it’s impossible to ignore.

Her face crumbles for a moment, and she looks away, as if she’s searching for the right words, for something that might make this hurt less. But there are no words that can make this better. No words that can undo the last few years.

she feels a lump in her throat, the wounds she'd covered, gashes shed mended, all coming undone in this moment.

“I don’t know,” Natasha whispers. “I really don’t know. I thought I could give you what you needed, but… I couldn’t. And I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed me to be.”

Her voice cracks as she says it, and she feels herself breaking inside. She knows you’re hurting, but she’s not sure what she can do to make this right. She had tried—tried so hard—to be what you needed, but she failed. And it kills her that she couldn’t give you the love and stability you deserved. The love she thought she could offer, the love that now feels so distant and ungraspable.

Your heart aches. It’s a contradiction, isn’t it? The way she sounds so guilty, and yet you know deep down that she’s not really sorry for her life—she’s sorry for the fact that she hurt you in the process of living it.

Her words feel hollow to her, and as they leave her lips, she wonders if she’s just prolonging the pain for both of you. She swallows hard, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her ring again. It’s such a small, insignificant gesture, but in this moment, it feels like the biggest thing in the world. It feels like a symbol of everything she’s lost. A symbol of a promise she made to someone else, a promise she can’t go back on.

She wants to reach for you again, but she knows better now. She knows that you’ve already made up your mind—that you’ve already closed the door on what could have been. The door that used to swing open so easily for her, but now only feels heavy and locked.

You look at her, your gaze raw, and for a second, you think you might say something else. You might beg her to take it all back. To come back. But you know you can’t. You know you have to let this go. You feel a deep ache in your chest as you realize that this is the end. The finality of it settles in, and you can’t hold on any longer.

Instead, you take a shaky breath and pull back from the table, your hands folding into your lap as you gather yourself. It’s almost like you’re physically trying to close yourself off, to shield the part of you that still hopes and longs for something that no longer exists.

“Maybe... maybe you were never what I needed either,” you mutter quietly, more to yourself than to her. The words taste bitter on your tongue, and you wish you could take them back as soon as they leave. But it’s true. Somewhere along the way, you lost her. And maybe, just maybe, you lost yourself in the process.

The words hit Natasha like a slap, but it’s the truth. She’s never been able to give you what you needed, and that realization settles like stone in her stomach. She opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something—something to fix it, to undo the damage—but the words die in her throat. They would only make things worse, only deepen the wound between you both.

She doesn’t speak. She can’t. She just watches you, helpless, as you turn away from her, the finality of your departure cutting into her chest like a knife.

You shake your head, unable to meet her gaze. The tears you’ve been holding back for so long feel close now, threatening to spill over. You can’t let them. You won’t. Not here, not in front of her, not when everything feels like it’s already slipping through your fingers.

“I should go,” you say, your voice quieter than you intended. It’s not a demand, it’s not even a decision—it’s just the only thing you can bring yourself to say. You push your chair back, standing up slowly, feeling like your legs might give out beneath you. You feel empty, but in a way, that emptiness is almost worse than the pain.

Her eyes follow you, and Natasha doesn’t try to stop you. She doesn’t ask you to stay. Her hands are folded in her lap, and she’s left with the sense that, somehow, she’s failed you, failed the both of you. She doesn’t think she could stand to watch you walk away again. The understanding in her eyes is quiet, gentle. She knows this is the end.

As you turn to walk away, you hear her raspy voice one last time. “Y/N… I still care about you.”

You stop for a moment, the weight of her words pressing down on you. You want to say something back—anything—but you know it wouldn’t change things. It wouldn’t fix anything.

You don’t respond. Instead, you walk. One foot in front of the other as you push open the door of the coffee shop, the cold New York air hitting your face like a slap. It’s sharp, biting, but somehow, it’s exactly what you need. You step into the busy street, the noise and the rush of people washing over you, but all you can hear is the silence of her absence. Is this it? You think. It has to be.

You keep walking, trying to put one foot in front of the other, but every step feels heavier than the last. You don’t know how you’re supposed to move forward—to move past her. You don’t know if you ever will.

After all, it’s never over.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

a/n: YAYY!! i was so excited to start writing this fic, it’s my drafts since October so i’m happy it’s finally out. i hope you all liked it! it was my first time writing angst and i’m very proud of it, if you guys have any constructive criticism pls give it politely:)

ps: i’m excited to see everyone’s reactions to it, please do share how you feel afterwards <3

[yubinluvclub6]

Die With A Smile, touya todoroki

𓆤࣭ ─ dabi/touya todoroki x sweet!reader, angst!, fluff, also i think i used the words “sweet” and “soft” about a million times, but reader is that, so.. dabi literally doesn't care of readers existence at first sob sob. highly inspired by “die with a smile” by bruno and gaga mwach, hence the title. sad ending! teeny tiny smutty moment, but it doesn't go into detail :( so sfw! idk how to write these tbh. strangers to friends to lovers(?) he calls her “doll” eeee sniff sniff! they're so in love <3 it's my first time ever writing & posting so please be nice! it was fun writing this! super short and sweet. no big plot. just for shits and giggles he he #1 touya fan !! i have such a fat crush on him i miss him sm waaa okay enjoy <3

When Dabi first laid his eyes on you, he didn’t care to spare a second glance. Why would he? You were just another member of the League, another cog in the machine of Shigaraki’s grand design, and he had no interest in entertaining the presence of another needless human who played no part in his own personal plans.

You, with your annoyingly bright smile, that would light up your entire face, and that stupid little cat you keep around you, always toting around with it. He didn’t care. But you did play a big role in the League. You were useful. Born with a healing quirk, you were vital. Shigaraki Tomura didn’t need more crew members on his ship, but when he saw you, healing a battered up and bruised stray kitty in a filthy, sketchy alleyway near the hideout, how could he not take you in?

Dabi recalled the first time you spoke to him. Your voice of sincerity. Delicate. Gentle. Voice like an angel. Nourishing. It had weight to it. He’d thought that alone could heal his every wound and scar. You introduced yourself. Simple. So soothing. “I’m Yn. Nice to meet you all!” You had said. Smile oh so evident on your face. Luminous. That’s the first thing he noticed. No... second. Your bright ass smile. What the fuck were you smiling so bright for?

He remembers. He remembers when you first went on a mission together. He’d assumed.. quite smugly, actually, that you couldn’t fight for shit, but man, despite only possessing a healing quirk, your combat skills surprised him. He hated that it impressed him. But he didn’t care. He doesn’t care.

But it began happening.. slowly. You, chipping away at his defenses.

𓆤─

After a particularly tough mission, Dabi returned more bruised than anticipated. His skin burned. Sizzling. Hot. Irritated. But he can’t feel. He doesn’t want to feel. Pain was an old friend. But just maybe, he does.

And so, with gentleness, you took him by his hand, guiding him to a nearby chair, sitting him down, and began curing his ruined, roughed up skin with your oh so soothing magic. Hands of an angel.

He didn’t question it. Sat. Silently. Letting you do your thing.

“You need be more careful,” you said. Your voice so sweet it felt like a whisper against the chaos of his existence.

Those words lingered, and he smirks thinking about it now. Battered and bruised, just like the stray cat, before fate brought you two together. In the same position, once again, just like when you had said those words.

...

And so, began a stupid little friendship, if he dared to call it that.. You and Dabi were opposites in every conceivable way, like Sun and Moon. And yet, you gravitated toward each other. You both clicked.

Nights blurred into days, most of which were spent in his room, or yours. Banter, mindless chatter, quiet conversations, and the softest of giggles coming out of your pretty lips from an unintended joke. He enjoyed it. Found an odd sense of comfort in it. Solace. He'd often find himself craving it. The cycle would repeat, and you'd become a constant.

He's thinking. Smiling. How he would love to feel your warm hands against his stomach, despite the already burning sensation he’s feeling deep in.

His thoughts drift again.

𓆤─

He's sat alone one night, in the silence of his room, his thoughts twisting around anger and vengeance.. fear..

You knocked softly at his door.

“Dabi?” you call, hesitant. As quietly as possible, as you peak through the open gap of the door.

He doesn’t answer, tense hands buried in his dark hair.

“Can I come in?” voice still so timid and soft.

Still, no answer. And yet, you enter.

Warmth. Your body against his. You embrace him, enveloping him completely. Your softness against his harsh scars. Yours against his. Yours. Yours. Yours.

And for the first time, he let's himself hold you. His arms are around yours, tight. So tight. He doesn’t think he’ll ever let go. You, the only thing tethering him to this world. And then he tells you. He tells you everything. His past. His bitch of a father, Endeavor. Touya.

That’s when he first feels it. Plush, soft. Always soft. Always you. And he presses. Applies pressure to your lips. Putty. That’s what you both are. Your hands in his messy hair, pulling against his locks gently. His, caressing your waist, your cheek, in your hair. Everywhere. He wants you, wants all of you. He kisses with urgency and need. He wants to memorize you.

And when you’re under him, moon illuminating your features, hair messy, pretty, hands in his hair, still. Your lips on his, still. Legs wrapped around his waist, forehead pressed against eachother. Warm breaths mingling. He decides. Wherever you go, he’ll follow. He wants to be next to you. With all of you. He wants to hold you. Wants to hold all of you.

...

Dabi chuckles, liquid dripping down from his dried up mouth, dyeing his shirt red. Crimson. Metallic. Down his nose and chin. How did he end up in this situation.

...

You lay entwined in his arms, light breeze blowing from the open window. Early morning sun, golden against your body and his.

“Touya?” you say softly, head against his chest, tracing little doodles onto his chest.

“Hm?” He let you. Touya, he thinks to himself. He let’s you call him that. Sounds freeing. Comforting, playing with his name against your lips. He likes it.

“Alright, if. If the world was ending? What’s the last thing you wanna do?”

He scoffs, small smirk evident on his lips. “Why the question.”

You perk, looking up at him, eyes big and glossy. You’re perfect, he thinks. “I’m curious..”

His hand finds itself in your hair brushing it back absentmindedly, gently. Doesn’t stop. Fingers coming though them. “Then stop bring curious.”

“Touya.”

“Yn.”

You sit up, sheets falling off your body like silk. You're facing him now, cross legged. “Seriously. What’s the last thing you’d do” You press.

He rolls his eyes.

“I don’t know. You tell me. What would you wanna do?”

You smile. Pretty, he thinks.

“A lot of things.”

“Fuck that. You can only choose one.”

You whine. Telling him there’s time. Some shit about the “few hours before it actually is the end of the world.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine. The last 10 minutes. If the world was ending, and you had only 10 minutes, what are you doing.”

You think. Pouty, Pretty. So fucking cute.

Then you shrug. A sigh, lying your forhead against his chest. “Probably eat my favorite food. I can’t think of anything else.”

He laughs.

"Hm," you smile, looking up. “Your turn.”

Dabi looks into your eyes, his turquoise orbs, looking, admiring, studying. His thumb brushing against your cheek.

“What?” You say, cheeks flushing, a blush pink hue forming.

“Next to you.”

“Huh” You ask, small frown forming, confusion evident on your sweet face.

His voice soft, that of love, and tenderness. “If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you.”

You freeze. Silence. Your cheeks flushing, once again. Shy, pretty, as you process his words. Then, with a smile that could rival the sun, you kiss him deeply, harder than ever before.

“I love you, Touya” you whisper against his lips.

…

“Wait… but mine isn’t as good as yours…” you frown.

𓆤─

Touya laughs again. He laughs at you, and your stupid little questions. He laughs at your frown, the one that forms everytime you’re even the slightest bit confused. He laughs at your smile, so bright. Your cheeks, the ones that flush whenever he teases you. He laughs at you.

Then, he cries. Blood, again. Trickling down his cheek. Like it’s doing down the rest of his body. The blood soaks his shirt.

And so, he keeps laughing. Laughing at the fucked up situation he’s in. Laughing at his thoughts before he met you. At Endeavor, and his stupid, little brother. Laughing at his heart. His feelings. His emotions. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

And he remembers again. 10 minutes.

And he hears. Touya. Your voice. Calling out his real name. He could hear you say his name forever. Like music to his ears. Butter. Smooth. Loving. Caring. So full of fucking love.

Touya. Say it again.

Touya. Again, please..

“Touya!” His eyes open, bloody, sticky. Your voice shatterring the silence.

“Touya” You cry, soft, warm hands frantically caressing his bloody face.

No. fuck, don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.

“You’ll be okay. Alright, just- just stay with me, Please.” You say breathlessly, hands brushing his disheveled hair back, touching anywhere you can.

He feels warm again. Your hands, against his abdomen, his chest.

You’re healing him. Trying. You're hurt too. Shit.

He laughs again, tears still rolling his cheeks.

Tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yn” He says, barely there. Whispered, in pain. It hurts to swallow, it hurts to speak. Everything hurts.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You choke out tears. “I promise. Just stay awake. Alright. Just-“

“Doll.” His weak hand goes up to his chest, wrapping around yours. Tightly, forever.

You sniff, sobbing “No”

“It’s okay.” He smiles. Fuck it hurts. “I promise.”

“Yeah. You- you’ll be oka-“

“Remember... remember 10 minutes?”

“Ten-… Touya wha-“ He smiles again.

You frown. Cute. He really does have a soft spot for you.

“I’m glad it came true.”

Suddenly it clicks.

“No. No Touya. You’re gonna be fine. I promise. Please. Just-“ Your sobs grow louder.

“I love you, Yn.”

Sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks, hands tightly clenched in his, forehead pressed against his blood soaked chest, “I love you too. I love you so much, Touya.”

Touya smiles. Because fuck, despite being here, after everything… He’s here, with you, next to you.

it's a lil boring lol but i had fun doing this so! tysm for reading <3

[udnergecko]

yeah i was thinking like "why not just block the people who are going to send the asks.....????"

also it was supposedly targeting a community i'm not a part of so i dont. i don't care

@ask-pomni-things i remember you turning off anon asks idk who else did

remember to turn off media asks until New Year bc the raid!

No thanks :3

I do not care :3

I see shit like this monthly :3

We don't care :3

You have to click to see images from people you don't follow when answering an ask, so I'm really not to worried about it!! <3 :3

We do not think it will actually happen :3

This is called fear mongering :3

The more that the post about 'defending against it' by turning off asks spreads, the more likely it is for somebody to actually do that, though!! :3 <3

[sandraharissa]

s2 intro was so fire. and I thought like s1 it showed/hinted at the things that would happen during this season. but most stuff didn't happen or it didn't live up to the imagery used in the intro

Vi smudging the VI tattoo. it implies that she would struggle with her identity and the name connected with it and the legacy connected with it, like Jinx did in s1. maybe this could even be her going so far as to reject the name itself, like denying that she's The Vi to keep a low profile. like how Jinx would insist that she's not Powder in s1. but none of that ever happened. Vi never struggles with 'being Vi' or what it means to her or with being Vander's prodigy even tho he's brought back from the dead.

this shot implying that this was gonna be a story about the sisters, but also that Jinx is Vi's burden or her shadow or a demon on her shoulder. but to explore Vi's feelings on her sister and what she's become they'd have to try to explore Vi at all

this shot which implies to me 'Jinx being Jinx' cos it's a callback to when she does the finger gun in s1, but even more so to when she does it as a kid in the Enemy MV. in the scene she, when she still went by Powder, aims a finger gun at enforcers and as she pretend fires at them it flashes to Jinx standing there. so a 'Jinx was always Jinx' message. but it also alludes to her having a target like the firelight in s1 or the enforcers in the MV, who she always hated.

the two times we see Ekko he reverses time, which ig he technically does but the meat of his story is him going to a parallel universe, not going back in time. idk ig I thought that time travel would be more relevant to Ekko's story than parallel universe travel. in the end time travel is only meaningfully used for the timebomb angst scene even tho it's not really necessary there. ig I thought the powers would be more relevant to Ekko's whole character and arc. in an Ekko lol short he reverses time to defeat the bad guy and when he finally succeeds it's at the cost of the destruction of the mural for dead kids, and so he goes back in time again. that's more meaningful than anything they did with firelights in s2 (and arguably more meaningful than the timebomb scene). why did they drop the sick tree plotline? the firelights? his past with Jinx? his involvement in the revolution? the past vs present and saving the things we love? I swear they were teasing me with an epic time travel episode but delivered a parallel universe (derogatory) episode.

this type of shots made me think that Cait would actually struggle internally to an extreme degree with her actions and how the power corrupts her etc. that she'd become horrified of what she's become. and how she'd hate and struggle with maintaining her appearances to the public.

the first shot made it seem like, just like Cait, Jayce would struggle with public attention and maybe scrutiny, considering he was the head of the council in s1. but then the first thing he does this season is resign and that's that for him being a public persona and struggling with his reputation even tho s1 and his lol lore focus on that. like that stuff's so juicy don't get rid of that.

the second shot hints to me at him discovering smth grand/important connected to the arcane, which ig kinda happened but what it ended up being is that Jayce got transported to a bad universe and learned that arcane bad. meanwhile this shot evokes to me smth more awe-inspiring, idk like smth mystical and magical, arcane, you could say. with white bright light often being used in media to communicate divinity. wild runes mumbo jumbo and Jayce being transported to a bad arcane universe seem so pedestrian compared to like, heavenly lights ig.

both concepts for Jayce's story that were introduced in the intro and the eps delivered on neither.

I don't remember the french revolution ending with the ppl teaming up with the royalty. I also don't get the impression that there are any french revolution stories out there with the hero thinking the revolution is an irritating nuisance. this parallel is so extremely unwarranted and borderline offensive.

Viktor did turn out to be evil and he did get a cult as this shot implied but the mask obvs references his lol mech suit that he never gets. there was no reason for him to be designed the way he was, as an arcane deity with specifically a mask, outside of for the purpose of having the faintest similarity to his lol design. the mask, the cult, all that third arm imagery in s1? it all references his lol lore, for nothing, cos they took his character in a drastically different direction. talk about blue balls. and same thing with the light as with Jayce, the light coming from the mask implies Revelations connected to the mask but also loss of identity/being consumed by it. maybe a glorious evolution? idk it again just feels like someone knew what the fans wanted but it wasn't the writers. but someone still put all this in the intro. teasing a better story that we'll never get to see.

there's also all the Black Rose imagery that seemed important even tho they weren't in the end. it being connected to Mel (politician) and Ambessa (politician/warrior) made me think that they would focus on the Black Rose being a political organization that wants smth connected to Piltover and the PnZ conflict, with all the imagery of holding the rose/squishing the rose/being the rose/picking up the rose alluding to the political scheming between Ambessa/Mel/the Black Rose. but they went the route of out of nowhere making Mel magic. imagine if in a random ep of s1 they made Silco magic.

why? why why why why why?

the intro did more for all the character arcs than the episodes themselves

[mymoshangthoughts]

i think i have the unpopular opinion that airplane is an egotist lol

i do enjoy reading fics where he's like "i dont deserve good things, this guy is way out of my league" and i do totally get where people are coming from when they characterize him that way but more and more lately im just like

"what about the comments?"

like i dont think that airplane has a SUPER high opinion of himself, but i think he's just kinda... confident? like when he reads fucking essays online about how his writing sucks he's able to laugh his ass off over it and even join in the fray. so i keep thinking rather than him being like "i dont deserve this nice thing", he'd more have a "SCORE! nice thing for me!! WHOO!" reaction. and when a bad thing happened, instead of being super "this is the saddest day of my life, someone was mean to me", he'd be more "omfg did you like fr waste your time being mean to me? thats actually pretty embarrassing for you lmfao, r u oki bro?"

like kinda that terminally online asshole internet troll of a person who just doesnt take shit seriously and has enough self esteem to just legitimately not give a fuck when someone is shitty

ofc it's different with demons who can literally skin him alive, theres a huge difference between someone saying "youre ugly" and someone breaking every bone in his body, so its not like he doesn't cower when necessary

but also inwardly he just has the confidence to not be effected much by cowering. like "lol imma hug this thigh bc i aint stupid but the fact that this asshole needs me to hug his thigh says a looottttt more about him than it says about me"

idk im just kinda wanting to see more unapologetically confident airplane who just does not give a fuck about anyones opinion so long as the opinion is coming from someone who cant actually fuck him over in a significant way. like sha hualing? obvs care about her opinion, she can gut him. some rando disciple? "lmfao out of my way loser, im gay"

also i kinda wanna see that confidence stripped away until he's a mewling mess but thats just my desire to break down confident characters and make them cry pfff

its so much funnier to me if airplane was actually a pretty impervious sort of person, it's only the extreme nature of his current situation that turned him into a crybaby lmfao

idk if im making sense, i just kinda think of airplane as being a hilarious mixture of "the most self assured guy you've ever met, to an obnoxious extent" and "wait does he have any self esteem at all?!? is he okay?!?" in a fun contradictory way, cuz thats the impression i got of him from canon

also modern au mobei jun getting Very upset bc it feels absolutely impossible to get under airplane's skin. like he's sitting here trying his best to get a reaction and airplane is just "lmfao yea but idgaf abt your opinion sooooooooo"

look, i also think it'd just be awesome if mobei jun is actually most attracted to the egotistical side of shang qinghua. like sure, he thinks that cowering sobbing pathetic hamster shang qinghua is delicious, but give him shang qinghua cackling arrogantly at his detractors with the air of an emperor? mobei jun might actually faint with desire

so like, mobei jun visiting an ding peak so much initially because shang qinghua is sus as fuck and all that jazz, but eventually he's sneaking in as often as possible so that he gets to peak that side of shang qinghua.

like he first notices it when shang qinghua is too absorbed in his paperwork to remember there's a demon lord casually napping on his bed and starts making fun of the lousy penmanship, his fellow disciples, other peak lords, no one is except from his sharp mocking tongue and laughing criticism. but he notices it more and more

someone comes to qinghua's door to throw their weight around? sure, qinghua acts all small and harmless with them there but when they leave, he's cackling about "annndd that pathetic loser thinks that no one knows abt his porn stache, pssshhh, get on my level pleb. especially with your frankly boring as fuck tastes" and qinghua has a dirty sense of humor too and it's sort of driving mobei jun insane

so maybe sometimes he shows up at the peak without announcing his presence, trying to peak what sort of shit that shang qinghua might say about him behind his back and mmaaaayyybbe mobei jun is a bit excited at the prospect and disappointed when it's difficult to hear his name on shang qinghua's tongue

until one glorious day when his timing is just right and shang qinghua is neck deep in the middle of northern desert paperwork and he lets loose and mobei jun isnt sure whats worse: the things that shang qinghua's biting insults are doing to him or how, in stark comparison to the way that shang qinghua insults to others, all of shang qinghua's insults are accompanied by dirty commentary about mobei jun's body and potential sexual prowess in a quite positive light. normally shang qinghua is all "lmfao mr. never-gonna-get-fucked qi-ge is gonna tell me what to do? tough shit my lil bitch, i might be your daddy but i know the full depth of malicious compliance! go back to your brat-kink with jiu-whatever. you might as well be dickless for all the success you've had, mr. virgin mcbitch" but with mobei jun it's a lot more like "oh so mr. sexier than the fucking literal god of this world could have imagined in his dirtiest dreams wants this paperwork by next week? unreasonable brat, so spoiled, i should spoil him, he'd look reeeeaallly hot when spoiled absolutely rotten beneath me hehehh wait above me? hm, anyway, he's being a little bitch but i'll forgive it for that face but also man i wanna just pinch those fucking cheeks sometimes and then--man i bet he'd be really fucking wild in the sack to and--"

absolutely charmed by the display, mobei jun immediately reveals himself and beats shang qinghua senseless as a very clear indication of his intentions. to his absolute dismay, he never hears shang qinghua insulting him again and he doubles the beatings in desperation to somehow get shang qinghua's attention

(shang qinghua does not, in fact, have any actual bad blood against his zhangmen-shixiong, he just has a bad habit of going for the throat when he's in the middle of a tirade bc he was once an internet troll who shamelessly thrived on the anonymity of being able to say anything to anyone. he just really likes to talk shit and if he was in a position of power, would absolutely abuse it to talk shit alllll the time lmfao)

anyway i got pretty off topic bUT MY POINT IS that shang qinghua is best (imho) when he is a shameless egotistical shit-talker who's more or less impervious to the criticism of others

((man just fucking IMAGINE mobei jun's reaction when the ascension ceremony happens? like he FINALLY gets shang qinghua to talk shit to his face no less and then IMMEDIATELY gets abandoned. and like, it was kinda Really Bad Timing and also mobei jun never really wanted to just be a passive participant! he wanted to retort back! he wanted a back and forth! he wanted to refute shang qinghua's claims that he was spoiled just as much as he wanted to hear those claims! he wants the push and pull!!!! SO WHY IS SHANG QINGHUA RUNNING AWAY THAT FUCKING TEASE?!?!))

also as a general note i do think that shang qinghua's whole impervious thing is prolly routed in a lot of the trauma of being unwanted by family and all of that stuff, there was no one around to build his ego up so he built it up all on his own and he's really fucking good at building things up

[hsnlv]

promised & found | s.jy

req!: also if you're taking requests...idk i've been thinking abt idol jake and famous reader (modeling or singing or whatever?) and they're like...childhood besties, lost contact, but then they meet again after becoming famous 😗😗😗😗

pairing: idol!jake x idol!reader

synopsis: years after losing touch with her childhood best friend, now fellow idol sim jake, a chance backstage encounter brings buried memories and unspoken feelings rushing back.

others: use of pet name (muffin). and honestly, it is supposed to be platonic (i think) but i cant help it, im a hopeless romantic :(

wc: 1.2k

a/n: a little side note, i cant vividly imagine what you guys might have in mind everytime you request something (im sorry </3) but i will my best to deliver it as smoothly and as ‘make sense’ (?) as possible! i dont know if this requires fluff, angst, suggestive (which i dont really like to write), but yet again, i’ll try to deliver every request as smoothly and as ‘make sense’ as possible! any feedback is highly appreciated too! happy reading💗 here’s my masterlist!

you’re stunned, absolutely frozen. every word that could describe your current state—speechless, shocked, dazed—falls short.

you had heard about the newly debuted boy group, the one everyone was buzzing about. but with your packed schedule, endless practices, and back-to-back performances, you barely had time to breathe, let alone catch up on industry gossip.

but now, standing just a few feet away from you, was someone who looked like a memory brought to life.

the soft, slightly whiny voice. the chestnut-brown hair that curled slightly at the ends. the gaze—sharp yet gentle, just as you remembered. it had to be him.

and before you could stop yourself, his name slipped from your lips like it was second nature.

“sim jaeyun.”

he turned, his eyes landing on you, widening in recognition. and then, as if time hadn’t passed at all, his face broke into a grin.

“muffin?”

hearing that nickname again was like reopening an old wound. years of carefully buried emotions began to resurface, sharp and bittersweet.

“yun?” you managed, your voice wavering as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

he looked at you like you were something out of a dream, his eyes scanning your face as if committing every detail to memory. “it’s really you,” he said softly, his voice laced with wonder.

you smiled, the corners of your lips trembling. “it’s really me.”

“what are you doing here? don’t tell me you’re one of the performers.”

you nodded, suddenly shy under his gaze. “didn’t know you actually went through with becoming famous,” you said, trying to keep your tone light even as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.

he chuckled, the sound so familiar it made your chest ache. “didn’t know you did, either. weren’t you the kid who once froze during the school talent show because you forgot the words to your own song?”

you rolled your eyes, the teasing instantly easing some of the tension. “yeah, well, people change.”

“you can say that again,” he murmured, his eyes softening as they lingered on you.

years ago

“yun, is it final? you’re really moving?”

your voice was quiet, shaky—almost pleading. you didn’t want to believe it. couldn’t.

he sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked anywhere but at you. “as much as i hate it…”

you waited, holding your breath, even though you already knew the answer.

“yeah. it’s final.”

“but, yun…”

“muffin,” he said softly, using that nickname that once made you smile but now only made your chest tighten.

you hated it at that moment. it was too light, too playful, too much him.

“can’t you just… stay? with me?” your voice cracked, and you bit the inside of your cheek, determined not to cry. “i don’t have anyone else but you.”

he finally looked at you then, his expression torn, his eyes shining with something that looked too much like guilt. “you think this is easy for me? you’re my best friend. leaving you is the last thing i want to do. but i don’t have a choice. my family needs this.”

you wanted to scream, to tell him that you needed him too. but deep down, you knew he was right. and that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“promise me,” you said after a long pause, your voice barely above a whisper. “promise me we won’t lose touch.”

his hand found your shoulder, warm and grounding. “i promise. calls, texts, video chats—you name it. you’re stuck with me, muffin.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding. “you better mean it. because if you forget about me, i’ll—”

“you’ll what?” he teased, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile.

“i’ll fly to australia and make you regret it,” you shot back, trying to match his playful tone.

he laughed, the sound a little shaky. “deal. but that won’t happen, okay? i couldn’t forget you if i tried.”

but promises, no matter how heartfelt, are fragile things. the calls became less frequent. the texts dwindled. until, eventually, there was nothing. and all you had left of him was the memory of his laugh and the nickname you couldn’t bear to hear again.

back to the present

“you’re really here,” he said, breaking the silence. “famous idol and all. i should’ve known you’d make it big.”

“funny,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “i could say the same about you. i didn’t even know you wanted this.”

he shrugged, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “i didn’t, at first. but one day, i was watching kpop idols performing, and suddenly i thought, hey, maybe i could do that.”

“and here i thought you were going to take over the family business,” you teased, crossing your arms.

“well, surprise.” he gestured at himself dramatically. “instead of suits and ties, you get… this.”

you laughed, the sound easing the knot in your chest. “you make it sound so easy. meanwhile, i nearly quit a hundred times.”

“you?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “the same girl who made me sing ‘do you wanna build a snowman’ at your birthday party? that girl almost quit?”

“okay, but that was different,” you argued, your cheeks flushing at the memory. “i had you to blame if it went horribly.”

“and yet, look at you now,” he said, his voice softening as his gaze settled on you. “center stage. killing it.”

“you’re not so bad yourself, yun,” you said quietly. “i’m proud of you.”

his expression shifted, something unspoken passing between you. “i missed you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

your chest tightened. “me too.”

“i tried to find you,” he said, his tone a mix of frustration and regret. “but you don’t use social media, and… i don’t know. i thought maybe you didn’t want to be found.”

“it wasn’t that,” you said quickly. “life just… got in the way. and i didn’t think you’d still—”

“still what?”

“still care,” you finished softly, looking down.

he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. “are you kidding? muffin, i never stopped caring. not for a second.”

his words hit you like a wave, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“i regret it,” you whispered. “losing touch with you. i should’ve tried harder.”

“hey,” he said gently, his thumb lightly brushing the back of your hand. “we both could’ve tried harder. but we’re here now, right?”

you nodded, your lips curling into a small, hesitant smile. “yeah. we are.”

“so, how about a fresh start?” he asked, his grin returning. “friends again? or do i need to buy your forgiveness first?”

“a fresh start, huh?” you said, pretending to think. “well, if we’re doing that, you at least owe me coffee for all the years you were MIA.”

he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “coffee? muffin, i’ll buy you coffee every day if it means i get to make it up to you.”

“bold words, sim jaeyun.”

“what can i say?” he said, smirking. “i’m committed to the cause.”

“we’ll see about that,” you teased, but your voice softened as you added, “just don’t disappear again, okay? i don’t think i can handle losing you twice.”

he laced his fingers with yours, his grip warm and steady. “never again,” he promised.

and this time, you believed him.

[solidaritygaming-fanblog]

Okay I'm breaking down. Let's make this an au sure why not

AU NAMES im gay and indecisive so heres some of my ideas

Fragments Strung

Tick of the Hourglass (yall acting like E!Joel wouldnt pull a kahmunrah and stick E!Jimmy in an hourglass. also limited life references)

Black Dahlias (Dahlias symbolize devotion, but the black variety symbolizes betrayal)

Reminisce and Remember

Between the 'Twixt

MORE STUFF IDK IM TIRED

Liml!Jimmy and E!Joel are in ESMP2 world. It's mostly fluff and little interactions. E!Joel tries very hard to make sure no one brings up E!Jimmy (who has been missing for a few weeks at this point. whoops) because he doesn't want to ruin his relationship with Liml!Jimmy.

E!Jimmy and Liml!Joel are stuck in a random vanilla survival world. L!Joel has a terrible breakdown after seeing E!Jimmy and immediately hug-tackles him and cries on his shoulder. E!Jimmy is very confused, and is rather wary of L!Joel. They mostly wander around trying to find their way out, and are both too scared to settle down and build a proper base (until E!Jimmy is killed by Pillagers and E!Joel fucking loses it).

The story is set before the Hermitcraft cross over. Liml!Jimmy is taken from somewhere between the second episode and before his final death. Liml!Joel is explicitly spawned into the vanilla world (what I am calling the 'Twixt) immediately after his final death. E!Jimmy is missing for about two weeks before Liml!Jimmy appears in Stratos.

In the Twixt, L!Joel injures his arm on the first day. It remains wrapped in a bandage for much of the story. E!Jimmy's death to pillagers is the first death in the Twixt. Until that point, L!Joel believed it was hardcore mode. There are no more deaths after this, as they both just evade attacks and help save each other. L!Jimmy very much enjoys being in Stratos. It reminds him a lot of Bread Bridge and Skynet. E!Joel thinks, for a short while, that L!Jimmy is just E!Jimmy, with a different outfit and maybe amnesia. He avoids talking about Tumble Town and the toy fiascos because he thinks they will trigger memories, and doesn't want to ruin his chance to actually become Jimmy's friend. He still doesn't tell him (or tells him very slowly) because... yknow. That shit's kinda offputting. E!Joel uses his trident. E!Jimmy uses dual swords. L!Joel uses an axe. L!Jimmy doesn't use weapons often in the story, but usually uses a bow or crossbow. L!Jimmy and L!Joel both have chokers similar to bomb collars. They have small screens on them that display the time left. L!Joels displays the amount of time he had left upon death (or world removel) on a red background. L!Jimmy's displays all zero's on a gray background and blinks. He believes this is because he is in a world where whatever controls the time can not reach him- therefore, it reset. debating whether or not E!Jimmy should have a breakdown after learning all the details of what happened to L!Jimmy. "Do I look like him" style.

ill add more in the morning im super eepy

Do not let these two near each other. Oh my god the angst that would occur

[atzhrts]

since Christmas is tmr what kinda gifts do you think the riize members would give you? :3

merry christmas to everyone who celebrates + belated christmas to everyone who celebrated yesterday! have fun with your loved ones, don’t let people get on your nerves to much and my asks are always open if you’re missing someone to talk to during these days!!

to everyone who doesn’t celebrate, i hope you had an amazing day as well and can enjoy some free time!!

christmas presents riize would give you ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

(the links are definitely not just thinks i find pretty why would you think that?)

shotaro ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

i wanna see perfume, idk why i can just see it

eunseok ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

a spa day - whole day for you to relax and de stress

sungchan ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

accessories - i can see him liking this bag, would make a joke about him gifting you his heart

wonbin ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

jewelry especially a necklace - i can really see wonbin liking this and thinking it’d look so so pretty ok you

seunghan ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

this - i saw this and it is screaming seunghan

sohee ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

clothes like a whole pretty outfit of things you showed him throughout the year, he remembers them all 😕

anton ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

i can see him take you traveling, buying plane tickets, hotel and all - taking you on a nice lil trip

[allpiesforourown]

Okay so yes, Shen yuan is a cow, but he still Shen yuan. It’s the middle of the night again and I’m trying to fall asleep but cowzun plagues my thoughts. I’m thinking maybe he was human and lived his Shen yuan life as we know it reading shit web novels as the rich third son and died at like 20 then he gets reincarnated as a cow but still remembers being a human man and so is still the Shen yuan we know. Shang Qinghua is still airplane and died but he got reincarnated as human in this life. I don’t think this is his novel but peerless cucumber still left comments on his work as he does. Shang winghua figures out that shen yuan has human brain but also kinda thinks he’s just sleep deprived delirious from overworking at first. But then he keeps noticing how Not Normal this cow is and realizes this cow used to be a dude. Idk how it happens after that but shangqinghua goes out to the barn to hide from work sometimes and brings Shen yuan comics and novels. Shen yuan has a hard time reading with his cow eyes so Shang Qinghua reads to him sometimes and complains about work. Their relationship is then like canon. I don’t know how they work out communication but they do. Somehow.

What would the endless abyss be? Not just asking you (pie) but ur followers too. Any thoughts?

Also. The first cowzun ask I was typing I wrote fuck and accidentally hit d instead of f so it said duck. I corrected it and might have just deleted that part don’t remember, but it left me thinking: who would be a duck in this au? Gongyi xiao maybe? Or is he more oriole? Or swan?

Also pie is cowzun seriously where you draw the line? I thought you loved all versions of shizun. Wouldn’t you want to gain his trust enough until he lets you pet his nose? Cow noses are super soft. Like crazy soft. You don’t want him to trust you so much that he’d let you pet that soft, delicate part while you look into his cow eyes and he snuffles on your hand? Really? What happened to loving all facets of shizun so you could truly love him? You love shizun as a cat but not a cow? Is this the line you draw?

I am so tired I just wan to sleeeeeep. Brain shut the duck off. …and now I’m thinking about the duck question again. Who is the duck? I must know.

HOW WILL A COW GIVE ME HEADPATS. I need someone I can TALK TO and hold and kiss and fuck and marry and grow old with. How can I do that with an animal with a max lifespan of 20 years. Also the duck is obviously Ming Fan who imprinted on shizun after hatching and thinks he's his mother and aggressively attacks binghe with his beak on sight

[okaysonny]

the one where they lose yenna ╎ zack + johan

❤️ @always-lovingly — hope you like it!

ᯓ★ summary: eli bestows zack with the greatest honour: babysitting yenna. nothing will go wrong, right?

ᯓ★ details: fluff, no reader, spoilers for 517 onwards, canon dynamics. (aka zack and johan's relationship is platonic)

ᯓ★ wc: 3.4k - on the longer side...sorry

ᯓ★ A/N: I HATED MAKING THIS!!! comedy is really hard to write + i feel like i waffled too much... made a post about it, but this fic is drawn from s2, ep6 of friends (the one with the baby on the bus)

how did they get ben back with no paperwork/confirmation? idk but it makes my job easier #yes

divider: @thecutestgrotto

"what? you want me to look after zami tomorrow?"

"…her name is yenna" eli smiles at him sheepishly. "and yes. i have to unexpectedly work at the fruit stall. derek got a stomach bug and there's no one to cover for him. plus, the daycares closed on saturdays. would you mind?"

"…eli…i can't believe this…"

of course. eli should've expected this. what eighteen year old wants to spend their saturday babysitting?

"sorry zack. don't worry about it. i'll get someone else to— "

"i can't believe you're trusting me to babysit zam— i mean yenna!" a beam of light is practically shining on him.

eli blinks. he swears he can see zack's eyes well up.

"do you really trust me to? you really think i'm worthy?!"

well, he wasn't expecting that. eli laughs softly, shaking his head. "well…you visit her a lot and you're really great with her. i think you'd do a good job"

zack covers his mouth, trying not to cry in front of the beauty department's only guy. he does visit yenna a lot. how can he not? the fact that the baby he found happened to be eli's daughter…it felt like fate.

he coughs into his hand, composing himself, before looking at eli with determination - the determination of being the best babysitter in the world. "…it would be my honour"

eli smiles softly. he was hesitant in entrusting yenna with someone who misnames her half the time. but now, he doesn't regret it one bit.

"…thanks, zack"

"oh…you really came prepared, huh?"

zack has come prepared. he still owns that baby carrier from before. he also wears something without buttons this time. and he still uses gel, but not too much gel, because the spikes could stab her.

"of course!" he nods enthusiastically. "only the best for zam— yenna! mesh ventilation to ensure maximum comfort!"

eli can't help but chuckle. "that's…very nice of you"

with one hand, eli hands zack a list of instructions and a bag of supplies. his other hand is holding yenna, as adorable as she always is.

"…if anything happens, call me. i'll try make it back as soon as possible" he hesitantly hands yenna over, her little hands grabbing at zack's face.

"ba!" she squeals.

his eyes light up. "zam— yenna!" he cradles her head gently. "don't worry, eli ! she's safe with me!"

he nods, exhaling slowly. he reaches out to stroke her hair fondly. "you have a good time with uncle zack, okay? i'll be back before you know it" he whispers.

eli steps back, checking the time on his phone. "shoot, i need to go. you'll be fine, right?"

zack grins, using yenna's hand to give him a little wave. "yes, yes. go and chop fruit or whatever"

eli waves back and zack watches as his figure slowly gets smaller. he looks down at her, speaking with conviction.

"alright, zami. uncle zack will give you the best day of your life"

"what the hell, man? why'd you bring a baby here?"

okay, so saturday just happened to coincide with his study session. but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

zack hastily covers her ears. "don't swear in front of yenna! this is eli's daughter, y'know?! i'm an uncle on babysitting duty"

johan looks down at yenna with a mix of contempt and confusion, her big eyes staring back at him.

"ba?"

she's holding a baton with the top of a toy wand attached to it. his brows furrow, remembering his fight with eli.

Are you messing with me? What's with the toy?

whoops. in his defense, how was he meant to know?

johan sighs in exasperation and closes his book. "we're not getting anything done if she's here. by the way, don't expect me to help, alright? you're on your own"

"hmph. yenna doesn't want to hear your obscenities anyway" he pats her head protectively.

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, okay"

yenna suddenly starts smacking her baton-wand against the edge of the table, the smile never leaving her face.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

zack stares at the wand, already dented from her relentless attack on the furniture.

"alright yenna, that's enough of that" he says nervously, gently prying it out of her hand. she immediately starts to fuss, her big eyes tearing up.

johan glares at him. "nice job, genius. now she's going to cry"

"hush!" zack snaps. he waves the wand awkwardly in front of yenna’s face. "see, yenna? it's all better!"

yenna, unimpressed, lets out a wail that could rival a siren.

johan groans and presses his fingers to his temples. "you need to get something to keep her quiet. a softer toy maybe"

zack perks up at the suggestion. "hey, we should go to the city! we can grab something real quick!"

"we?"

"yes, we. you're not sitting on your ass while i do this alone" he grumbles.

johan stares at him in disbelief, but yenna’s cries grow louder, and he visibly gives in. “fine. but if she screams on the bus, i'm out”

zack grins, already packing up. he turns to yenna with a cheerful voice. "alright princess, let’s go find you the perfect toy!"

"...gross"

"you're gross" he mumbles, as they make their way to the bus stop.

zack awkwardly adjusts the baby carrier strapped to his chest, yenna wriggling furiously against him.

“why is she squirming so much?” johan asks, sitting in the seat across from him, his arms folded.

“she’s probably uncomfortable” zack shifts the straps again. yenna lets out an irritated whine, kicking her tiny feet against his stomach. “c’mon, work with me here…”

johan leans back. “maybe she can sense you have no idea what you’re doing”

“real helpful, johan. you wanna take over?” he glares at him while holding the carrier steady.

“pass”

“yeah, that’s what i thought” zack adjusts the carrier again, but yenna’s whining only gets louder. people start glancing over, their expressions ranging from amused to annoyed.

“okay, okay. hang on” he sighs in defeat, unbuckling the straps, gently lifting yenna out of the carrier and onto his lap.

“so now you’re happy, huh?” zack mutters. yenna’s only response is a delighted giggle as she smacks his knee with her baton-wand.

“you’re spoiling her” johan comments, deadpan.

“what do you know about babies, johan?”

he shrugs. "if you say so"

yenna, meanwhile, starts squirming again, clearly eager to explore her surroundings.

“you wanna stretch those tiny legs?” zack carefully sets her down on the floor of the bus. she stands unsteadily for a moment, then takes a few steps, laughing as she bangs her toy against the metal pole by their seats.

“...are you seriously letting her walk around here?”

“she needs some freedom!” zack defends himself, his eyes flicking between yenna and johan. "she's only a baby, it’s not like she’s gonna go far"

“...right”

“calm down. i'm watching her!” zack beams confidently, leaning back in his seat while keeping one eye on yenna.

for a moment, the two of them sit in silence, the bus rumbling along as she continues her wobbly exploration of the aisle.

“...y’know, you’re pretty calm for someone who's scared of babies”

johan shoots him a glare. “i’m not scared of babies”

“you totally are! the look on your face when she said ‘ba’ was priceless”

johan’s eyes narrow. “keep talking and i’ll make you ‘ba’ yourself”

they continue bickering, their voices overlapping as yenna toddles around the aisle, occasionally smacking the bus poles with her baton-wand.

the bus screeches to a halt at their stop. zack stands up, slinging the bag full of baby supplies over his shoulder. "alright, this is us"

johan follows closely behind as they get off, stepping onto the bustling city street. the sound of car horns and chatter fill the air, and zack immediately starts scanning the area.

“so” johan drawls, looking around. “what exactly are we looking for? a squeaky duck? a magic wand that doesn’t double as a weapon?”

“something soft, like you said” zack adjusts the straps of the carrier on his shoulder. "i never want to hear that banging noise again"

johan opens his mouth to speak, but pauses. his eyes flick down, then back up to zack, his face suddenly paling.

“...zack?” his voice is unusually tense.

“what?” zack asks distractedly, glancing around for a toy store.

johan's face is laced with panic.

“where’s the baby?”

“what are you talking about? she’s right—”

but she isn't. he glances down at the empty carrier on his shoulders, his voice catching in his throat.

we left her on the bus.

"johan, you rat!" zack snarls. "how could you forget about our child?"

"how the fuck is this my fault? you’re the one babysitting her!" johan snarls back. "and what do you mean our child?"

the argument attracts curious stares from passerby.

zack waves his hand dismissively, his movements frantic. "who cares?!" he yells, sprinting off. "we need to catch that fucking bus!"

zack hears johan groan, but his footsteps quickly follow after, the bus luckily still in sight as it makes a turn.

"it's fine!" zack pants. "we just need to alert the bus driver and it'll be fine!"

they turn around the corner, but stop in their tracks.

they're both flabbergasted as it's joined by two other identical buses on their route, the traffic blocking the vehicles out of sight regardless. something out of a 90's sitcom.

zack's lip begins to tremble. he's a dead man. will he die without knowing mira's touch?

he aggressively shakes his fist at the sky. "OH COMPASSIONATE BUDDHA!!! why have you forsaken me?"

"...what the fuck? relax. let's just..." johan pants, trying to catch his breath. "let's just think, okay? there's gotta be a way to fix this"

they both stand in contemplation.

they can fix this, right?

"thank you! please come again~" eli hands over the bag of fruit cheerfully, waving the customer goodbye.

his smile falters.

strange. he suddenly has a weird feeling.

he shakes his head, shrugging it off. it's probably nothing, he says to himself.

"the transit authority!" zack exclaims, an imaginary light bulb appearing on his head. "the bus drivers' hand all lost property to them. we just need to call and let them know we left a baby! she has to be with them! no idiot would leave a baby on the bus!"

johan nods, both of them blissfully unaware of the irony. "i was gonna say that"

zack scoffs. "sure you were. now, all we need to do is—"

zack's phone rings. he looks at the screen, his eyes widening in horror.

"i-it's eli" he stammers.

a smile tugs on johan's lips, slightly amused. he gestures to the phone. "answer it. it's gonna look suspicious if you don't"

zack glares at him, but doesn't argue. he breathes out slowly before accepting it.

"eli !" his voice is incredibly high pitched. "what's up? shouldn't you be chopping lemons or something?"

"i'm on my break" he laughs. "i just wanted to check in. is everything okay, zack?"

"everything's fine!" he chirps. "me and yenna are having a great time!"

"...that's good. would you mind putting her on the phone? i want to hear her voice" he says gently.

fuck.

johan smirks, not even trying to hide it anymore, watching zack in anticipation.

zack closes his eyes, pausing.

he does the only thing that comes to mind, shoving the phone near johan's mouth. the latter's face drops.

what the hell are you doing? he mouths.

zack covers the phone so eli can't hear.

"act like a baby" he hisses.

"over my dead body"

"just do it, you hobo! or i'll tell your mom you failed english again" he glares.

"...you wouldn't"

"wanna find out?"

"um...zack?" eli speaks up again. "what's going on? is she—"

"...goo goo?" johan squeaks, removing zack's hand from the speaker.

zack winces. he's heard better acting in porn.

radio silence.

"is she okay? she sounds a bit—"

"i think she needs a diaper change! bye eli !" he hangs up quickly.

johan stares daggers at him, his cheeks slightly flushed. "i'm gonna beat your ass"

zack shrugs, googling the number for the transit authority. "you can beat my ass after we find zami"

"...i thought her name was yenna?"

the human resources department is a picture of monotony, the ticking of the clock being the loudest sound in the room. the clerk behind the desk often jokes to himself that he lives in a time loop. every day was the same — forms to file, complaints to process, and the occasional awkward phone call. nothing ever changes, and he's stopped expecting it to.

until today.

the phone on his desk buzzes, cutting through the endless drone of routine.

“transit authority here” the caller begins briskly. “we’ve got a...situation. someone called claiming they left a baby on one of our buses”

the man blinks, the pen in his hand frozen mid-air. “a baby?”

“yeah. a little girl. we’ve got her safe now, but we’re bringing her over to your department, since...you know, you handle these things” the voice sounds exasperated, as if they can’t believe they're saying this either.

he swivels slightly in his chair, still trying to process the information. “so, wait. someone just...left their baby on the bus?”

“that’s what we’ve been told” the caller says with an audible sigh. “the guy on the phone sounded panicked. i told him to go to your building”

"...what kind of idiot leaves their baby on a bus?"

“i’m asking myself the same question”

hanging up the phone, the clerk leans back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief.

this is new.

he glances at the clock, bracing himself for what kind of man would walk through the door.

or men, he should say.

the door to the department bursts open, startling the clerk so badly he nearly knocks over his coffee. his head snaps up, expecting one man, but instead, there were two.

they both look like they just sprinted a marathon. the first, a broad shouldered guy with a baby carrier strapped awkwardly across his chest, is hunched over, gasping for air. his face bore the genuine panic of someone who just lost something irreplaceable.

the second young man follows behind him, his sharp eyes darting around the room, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

the clerk stares at them, dumbfounded, as they both stand there panting. finally, he clears his throat, glancing at the baby carrier. “so… i’m guessing you’re here for the baby?”

"y-yes! the baby...we called about the baby! is she here?" zack heaves.

"...she's here"

zack and johan sigh in relief.

"is one of you the father?"

zack rubs his neck shyly. "ah...well no, but we know her very well. can we collect her?"

the older man crosses his arms. "if neither of you are, you'll need to call one of her parents, so we can confirm guardianship"

fuck.

zack looks at johan in wordless communication. it'll be awkward. it'll be difficult. but they both know what they have to do.

"w-what i meant to say was..." zack slowly wraps an arm around johan's shoulder, cursing his sudden high pitched voice. "we're actually both the fathers"

zack leans his head against johan's, trying to control his trembling lip as he smiles sweetly.

the clerk presses his own lips into a thin line, not looking convinced.

johan sighs and briefly scrunches his nose before laying his hand on top of zack's, leaning into his touch. his smile is incredibly fake and plastered. he's afraid he'll commit murder otherwise.

"mhm..." johan manages to croak out.

radio silence.

if the clerk doesn't believe them, it seems he doesn't care enough to press further. he shrugs, gesturing to the door at the back. "alright. right this way—"

that's all they need to hear before they bolt to the door, flinging it open.

yenna is sitting on a small cot, gripping her beloved baton-wand in one hand. she’s completely unbothered, her big eyes scanning the room with innocent curiosity. she gives the wand a few lazy taps against the cot, unaware of the trouble they had to go through.

the moment zack spots her, he rushes over, scooping her up without hesitation. “yenna! we’re so sorry! your uncles are so sorry” he says, his voice filled with guilt. he hugs her tightly, rocking her gently. “uncle zack won't let this happen again, okay? never, ever”

standing just behind him, johan watches silently. "...you’re so ridiculous" he mutters. but zack knows he doesn't mean it. he knows him too well to not spot the softness in his voice.

he doesn’t look back, too wrapped up in stroking yenna's back. "couldn't care less, mommy's boy"

as zack shifts yenna in his arms, her tiny hand stretches out behind him, her fingers reaching for johan. johan hesitates for a moment, glancing down at her outstretched hand, before gently taking her little fingers in his big ones. the room is quiet, the world around them seeming to pause.

johan’s lips curve into a small, genuine smile, one he doesn’t realise he’s wearing. he gently plays with her fingers, a silent exchange passing between them.

zack glances over his shoulder and freezes when he spots it.

a slow grin spreads across his face. “i knew it!” he blurts out, triumphant. “i knew you secretly felt the same way!”

johan's ears turn faintly pink but he doesn't let go of yenna’s hand. “...shut up”

zack snickers. “you don’t fool me anymore! everyone knows you’re actually a big softie”

johan grits his teeth, his grip not leaving her fingers. "whatever, man"

they don't see the clerk silently watching them through the door, his hand hovering over its knob.

he did think they were lying. they were way too jittery to be convincing.

but the sight of the scene made him stop. the broader one, cradling the baby so protectively and murmuring apologies with a guilt-stricken face.

the other, quieter one, gently holding the baby’s hand with a softness that doesn’t match his standoffish appearance.

it’s a moment so tender, so raw, that the clerk pauses, his hand lowering from the door knob. maybe he was being too narrow-minded.

he shakes his head with a bemused smile and turns away, leaving them to their privacy. as he walks back to his desk, he mutters to himself.

"what a progressive world we live in"

after parting ways with johan, who pats yenna's head for a little too long, he sits on a bench, waiting for eli's return.

"okay zami. you had a good time with uncle zack and uncle johan, alright? nothing crazy happened"

"ba!" she chirps back, as if she understands.

zack nods solemnly. "good"

"zack! hey!"

he sees eli walk over, sally with him.

zack spots eli's jaw tense a little less as he sees yenna safe and sound. she instantly reaches out, squealing at the sight of him.

"there you are..." eli beams, gently carrying her. "did you have a good time with uncle zack?" he says softly.

yenna aggresively shakes the wand in response.

he laughs and then looks up at zack. "so, how was it? did she give you much trouble?"

he waves a hand dismissively. "of course not! cool as a breeze. no problems at all"

"wow" sally grins. "eli, you should have him babysit more often!"

eli smiles, his gaze shifting back to yenna. "yeah...thanks a lot zack. i was worried because you hung up suddenly...i guess i was just being paranoid"

i'm off the hook! zack tries not to appear too excited.

he sighs, looking pleased with himself. "psh. don't worry. just had to focus all my attention on her. i'd never leave her out of my sight"

he nods, removing some lint from her clothes. "yeah, i get it. seriously, thanks a—"

he pauses, his smile suddenly dropping.

"hey zack?"

"...yes?" he looks up in anticipation.

is he gonna promote me as official babysitter?

eli turns yenna around, lifting her dress up slightly to reveal a big, bold PROPERTY OF HUMAN SERVICES stamp.

"what's this?" he asks, his voice a little too sweet.

zack's face drops. he can feel comical sweat beads appearing on his forehead.

"w-well that's uh..." he begins, but the words don't form.

eli silently hands yenna to sally, the grin now wiped clean from her face, being replaced with awkwardness instead.

eli smiles at him as he walks closer, pulling his sleeves up and cracking his knuckles.

"sally? please cover her eyes" he says quietly, his stare never leaving zack.

"wait eli !" he splutters. "let's just talk about this! it was—"

PUNCH

"owww! fuck! okay fine! just watch the hair—"

PUNCH

A/N: posted this on boxing day because zack is a BOXER 💜

[shinynewmemories]

P: Wait so. The first time you kissed him, it was only because he grabbed you by surprise?

K: Yeah and I wasn't sure how to feel about it so I just tried to forget it

P: Huh. And the next time?

K: Oh that was the night of the whipping. I was feeling super emotional and when I saw him lying there, unconscious, idk it just kinda happened

P: He was... Unconscious?

K: Yeah and I actually really regretted it the next morning. Kinda hoped he wouldn't remember it

P: ...

K: All the other times were when you were captured or hijacked. And it always started because one of us was miserable. And I swear, every single time, he said something awful afterwards that just made me more upset

P: So... what I'm hearing is... you never kissed him out of desire or affection? It was always to try to make the sadness go away? And you usually felt worse afterwards?

K: Uhhh

P: Was there EVER any happiness involved? Be honest

K: Um. No actually I don't think there was

P: And you still thought there was a possibility you two would get married??

K: Well I don't think that ANYMORE!

P: You're hilarious and I love you so much

just thinking about how delulu katniss was for the entire series. bitch would be like "ugh my best friend gale who i kissed but did not enjoy it at all. im sure i will eventually". compared to "ugh peeta is so sweet and perfect and he draws me plants and keeps me calm at night" like girl. who you tryin to gaslight, us or yourself??