#it's good to respond to one of these again it's been a while

[abouttocommitarson]

The villan heard the laughter before it abruptly stopped. She glanced up and saw... hero? The villan had never thought she would see hero again. Ok okokokokokokkokokok try not to panic, just act normal the villan told herself. The hero while this was happening had stopped dead in her track and was staring at the villan mouth agape. The rest of the gaggle of 20-somethings around her were glancing at the hero trying to figure out who she was staring at. villan told herself ok um just ignore hero surely she'll think she's seeing things or something, I look a lot different since we last fought. Besides I'm supposed to be dead. One of heros friends shook a hand in front of her face,

"Hello? Hero? Anyone in there?" He said knocking on heros forehead

"Huh? Oh yeah I'm fine," hero said with a nervous laugh, and tried to wrench their gaze away from the woman at the bar she seemed so familiar but hero couldn't place her face "just, y'know"

"Because you're not telling me I really don't know but ok" responded heros friendwith a smirk.

Throughout the night hero kept glancing at villan and her friends kept nudging her and whispering at her villan had noticed. Her plan was to get drunk so she would forget this had happened and then call a cab to get home. She had avoided this for so long! She had faked her own death-quite convincingly she thought, moved to a different city, made a new identity, and cut contact with anyone from her past life and STILL the hero had found her, the villan scolded herself. What comes next? Police banging on her door? Going to court? Prison? She supposed she signed up for this when she chose the life of crime but she had grown since then! She'd changed! She was no longer a bloodthirsty criminal trying to destroy a city she had a nice apartment a working car and a cat life was going well. Well, she laughed to herself good things never last forever.

"What'cha laughing about?" Came a voice from next to her, villan glanced up and had it not been for her already very pale complexion she would have gone white as a ghost. Hero had sat down next to her and was trying to make small talk.

"So uh how's your week been? Whats your name?" Hero was shitty at small talk and she knew it but was she this bad? The woman she sat next to was only a few years older then her at most and was staring at her like she just said that she liked homework, a mix of horror, confusion and fear. "Aaaaaaare you gonna respond or just stare at me like I'm a zoo exhibit?"

"Um sorry I just... do we know eachother?" Villan blurted, she didn't mean to, but she desperately needed to know if hero could recognise her. It sounded quite rude after she said it, but too late now she guessed.

I've lost motivation for this a bit, might come back later. If you guys like it. Please be nice I haven't written any storys since last February. Feedback and ideas welcome! Thanks

Edit: for those who were asking to be tagged in any and all stroys based of this prompt: @axxolotlqueen @lillysys @randomness20117

You, the villain, faked your death and started over years ago. But you never expected the hero to stumble into your new favorite bar, laughing with their friends.

[sweetpupii]

tw: non-con, somno, fingering & cunnilingus ( r!receiving ), reader cries just a little, praising, overstimulation, abby being the sweetest girl ever ( pretty ironic ) | 1.6k words.

having long nails is great.

they look cute, you can match them with your outfit and your makeup, you get some compliments, they're amazing at scratching and all that.

“wanna know what's frustrating though?” you start, mindlessly scrolling on your phone while abby looks at your new set of nails, her own unmanicured hand holding yours. “not to be, you know, nasty but I feel like I'm gonna slash my pussy open if I try to stick a finger in there the wrong way.”

only a low hum of agreement can be heard from the blonde as she leans back against the couch of your shared apartment, tracing the design that's beautifully decorating the nail on your middle finger. yeah, that looks like it would hurt real bad.

“then get a toy. there is more stuff you can use.”

“of course I know that, but I don't have time either. at this point I feel like a nun!” a ( kinda whiny ) sigh escaping your lips at the mere thought of all the weeks spent unsatisfied. coming home late and tired didn't give you much time to even grab a toy like abby suggested.

but luckily, you have a very thoughtful roommate!

this woman would do anything—and I mean anything—to see you happy because that's what friends are for. helping and supporting each other during tough times and, let me tell you, being sexually frustrated definitely counts as one.

“abby? what the fu—mhggm” her hand quickly went over your mouth to stop your protests to get louder and more panicked while the other worked to keep your legs and arms from pushing her face away. why are you acting so surprised to see her in between your legs when she's just trying to help? it's not like you would be able to push her away but jeez, didn't expect such an ungrateful response.

yes, she woke you up by making out with your pussy but you were basically asking for it earlier.

“gonna make you feel good.” she promised before she kept lapping at your cunt like a starved woman. slurping you up like you're her favorite dish. feeling the vibration of your desperate, muffled sounds against her palm made her speak again. “shh, I won't hurt you.”

taking off your underwear while you sleep, holding you down, forcing your mouth shut and your legs open doesn't hurt! not if you stay still, at least.

her plan was simple.

if she made you feel good by eating you out, using her own fingers to reach places you currently couldn't ( and probably have never been able to ) reach while you slept then you would surely wake up in a good mood and thank her with that precious smile of yours and maybe even a kiss.

but noooo, you decided to wake up in the middle of it and panic. ugh, just when your body was responding so well to her touch. she had seen the way your cunt was glistening when she started to slowly kiss it. the moonlight slipping through your curtains making the sight even prettier, and she'll be lying if she said the thought of taking a picture didn't cross her mind.

but a little crying from you won't stop her, even if she feels the hot tears against her skin.

she's still holding your legs open so she can continue to suck and lick at your clit, tongue tracing each fold and sensitive bit. your hips bucking into her face—but she's not sure if you're liking it and want more or you're trying to push her away.

“don't scream, okay baby?” she whispered against the soft skin on your inner thigh, peppering small kisses, while looking up at your watery eyes, “I'll be so gentle. trust me.”

actually, what other choice do you have? this woman can literally bench press 205 lbs. you get on her bad side and a single smack takes you back to your mother's womb. she has a mean right hook too, those punching bags stand no chance.

but again, it's abby who we're talking about.

the blondie that cuddles you to sleep anytime your bed feels too cold, who makes stupid jokes to cheer you up even if she cringes so fucking hard immediately after, who lets you try to count every freckle on her skin without even asking why, who can listen to you talk for hours and pay attention to every word, the one that drunkenly tells you how glad she is that you're her roommate and friend while kissing your shoulder even if deep down she wishes for more than that and stares at you as if you are the most important thing in the world—because to her you truly are.

so maybe she really just wants to make you feel good...

the second the fear and confusion in your eyes turns into something more calm, seeing the slow nod of your head, the small hiccup and your legs no longer struggling, she pulls her hand away from your mouth to trace the other set of lips, gathering the mixture of her saliva and your fluids on her fingertips before gently pushing one inside. “there we go…nice and slow.”

she might've been wrong for not asking first but how was she supposed to resist the feeling of your warm, tight walls squeezing her fingers just right as she curls them inside. soaking her knuckles in a shiny coat of stickiness that makes her want to dive in face first again and taste it until it becomes the only flavor she'll ever remember.

once she's sure that you're wet and comfortable enough, another thick digit slides in, the stretch earning a moan from you that has abby feeling like angels are singing and welcoming her to heaven. god, she has waited for so long to hear those sounds out of your lips—sounds caused by her, not your vibrator nor whoever you used to invite over thinking you two were quiet. ( she could hear you every.single.time… and honestly? it was so good to get a free show. )

even if her pace was somewhat slow, the thrusts of her fingers still managed to produce soft, wet noises that filled the room as they combined with your heavy breathing.

“told you I'd be gentle.” she cooed against your abdomen, trailing her kisses up your torso until she finally reached your lips. the same lips she has been dreaming of kissing since she moved in, since she first saw you smile, since you finally laughed at something she said, since the first time she saw them in a pretty shade of lipgloss. it's better than she ever imagined and she knows she'll ask ( beg ) for more from now on.

she's head over heels if you couldn't tell already.

“a warning would've been nice.” your quiet words bring a sheepish smile to abby’s face as she sighs, pulling her face away just a little, “sorry, you looked so stressed lately, I figured you wouldn't mind…”

abby aims to please even if she doesn't realize how bad her impulsive thoughts are before she acts on them. but look at the bright side; from now on you have a girl who's willing to drop to her knees and bury her face between your thighs at your own home almost 24/7!

after a bit, she starts to notice that the clenching and throbbing around her fingers gets more frequent and your moans louder, meaning she can finally speed up the pace. burying herself deep into your cunt to reach all the perfect spots she knows you've been missing. “fuck, you're so pretty. I wish you could see yourself…dripping all over the bed.”

she’s breathless as if she was the one getting touched, her own underwear damp just from seeing and pleasing you. can you blame her? she feels like a child on christmas morning.

“that's it, doing so good.”

oh, how she adores the way your hips tremble underneath her. making a mess on your bed sheets as you throw your head back—which she takes as an invitation and buries her face there. inhaling your scent like it's the only thing keeping her alive, like you're the oxygen she needs.

“gonna come? I can barely move my fingers with how tight you are.” liar. no matter how much you squeeze she's pumping them in and out without a single bit of effort. working out daily really pays off in the most satisfying ways. plus, you're too wet and it slides in and out very easily.

and god, her words make the flutter in your lower belly even worse. your hand gripping at her forearm, nails digging so hard she takes it as “it's too much.” when in reality she had fucked you so dumb with her fingers that reaching for abby was purely out of instinct.

she can't even understand the words ( babbles ) coming out of your mouth, all her pussy-drunk mind is able to register is the whiny tone tone in your voice because yes, she's as fucked out as you are.

the loud cry that escaped your puffy lips while repeating her name over and over definitely woke up a neighbor or two and just the thought of it makes abby's ego go up to the roof. who's making the prettiest girl in the building come? abigail motherfucking anderson.

her fingers continue their movements, a bit sloppier than before, but they keep going nonetheless. thumb circling your sensitive clit to add more stimulation.

she shushed your whimpers with soft kisses on your your temple and held you still to keep the overstimulated jerking off hips from pushing her away.

“you can take a little more, you're a big girl.”

and she's an insatiable woman.

masterlist ♡ taglist — @1ckyporcelainbunny @patronagrona

[mssorceressupreme]

Safe With You | K.D.H

———

Pairing: Kang Dae-Ho x reader

Summary: Dae-Ho protects you from bullies <33

Warnings: shy!reader, bullying, protective!daeho, he's so fit ughhh #needthat

———

The tense atmosphere in the room was suffocating, the air thick with tension and unspoken threats. You kept to the edges of the group, hoping to remain invisible. It wasn’t a new feeling—you’d always been the quiet one, preferring to observe rather than engage. Here, in this cruel game, where alliances could mean survival, your shyness felt like a curse.

You pulled your knees to your chest, sitting on the cold floor as the other players talked, schemed, and argued. The sheer chaos of their energy intimidated you. The louder voices, the ones who barked orders or jeered at others, made you feel small. Invisible was safer, or so you thought.

Then came the mocking.

Thanos was the first to notice you sitting there, quiet and still, avoiding eye contact. He nudged Nam-gyu with his elbow, smirking. “Hey, look at her,” he said, his voice carrying across the room. “Little Miss Shy over there. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

You glanced up, startled, but quickly looked away, hoping they’d lose interest. But Thanos was like a shark scenting blood.

“Aw, she’s cute,” Thanos chimed in, his tone dripping with mockery. “Too pretty to talk to us, huh? Or maybe she’s just too good for the likes of us.”

They both laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You tried to focus on the floor, to shrink into yourself, but Thanos crouched down in front of you, leaning in too close.

“Why so quiet?” he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes sharp. “Come on, say something.” He began stroking your cheek, brushing a strand of hair out your face.

“Please stop,” you whispered, your voice barely audible while you looked down.

Thanos chuckled, leaning closer. “Oh, she does talk. Maybe we should make her talk a little more.”

Namgyu reached out, poking your cheek playfully. You flinched, jerking back, and their laughter grew louder. “Don’t be like that,” Namgyu said, his grin widening. “We’re just having a little fun.”

You stood up quickly, your heart racing. “I said stop,” you said, louder this time, though your voice still wavered.

Thanos grabbed your wrist, his grip firm. “Don’t be so uptight. We’re just getting to know each other." His grip grew harsher, "Form an alliance and much more..." He cooed.

“Let go of her.”

The voice that interrupted was calm but commanding. Dae-ho stepped between you and the two bullies, his expression cold and dangerous. “You heard me,” he said, his gaze locking onto Thanos. “Let her go.”

"Relax man, she'll probably want to be in bed with me by tomorrow." Thanos smirked.

Dae-ho, grabbed Thanos by the collar harshly, lifting him slightly-off the ground, though still holding on to your wrist, "Don't make me ask you again."

Thanos hesitated for a moment, then scoffed, releasing your wrist with a sneer. “Chill, bro. We were just messing around.”

Dae-ho responded by releasing Thanos, his focus shifting to you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softening.

You nodded shakily, rubbing your wrist. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Thanos muttered something under his breath, but Dae-ho shot him a glare that silenced him immediately. “Leave her alone,” he said, his tone final.

The two bullies slinked off, muttering complaints, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Dae-ho turned to you, his expression still serious. “Stick with me,” hi voice soft. “They won’t bother you again.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. “Can I?” you asked hesitantly. “I mean… can I stay with you? I don’t… I don’t feel safe alone.”

His expression softened further, and he nodded. “Of course. I’ll look out for you.”

Something in his voice, a quiet sincerity, made you believe him. He wasn’t just saying it; he meant it. You felt a strange sense of safety settle over you, like a fragile bubble that only he could create.

Dae-ho introduced you to his group, a small but tightly-knit circle of players who welcomed you warmly. They were kind, in stark contrast to the harshness of the others, and you found yourself slowly relaxing in their presence. But it was Dae-ho you felt most drawn to.

He stayed close to you, checking in often, making sure you had enough to eat or drink. His protective nature made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. You found yourself watching him, memorising the way his hair fell over his eyes when he leaned in to talk, or the way his lips curved into a soft smile when he reassured you.

And he seemed to feel the same pull. He caught your gaze often, holding it a moment longer than necessary, his eyes warm and gentle. When you laughed—rare as it was—his expression would brighten, as though you’d given him a gift.

One night, as the group settled down to rest, you found yourself sitting next to him on his bunk bed, the quiet stretching between you. “Thank you,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked at you, his brows furrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For stepping in,” you said, meeting his warm chocolate eyes. “For… everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He smiled, small but genuine. “You don’t have to thank me. I couldn’t just stand by and let them treat you like that.”

You hesitated, then added, “I feel… safe with you.”

His eyes glistened with a mix of pride and adoration, and for a moment, you thought he might say something more. But he only nodded, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your heart race, glancing from your eyes to your lips. “Good,” he said. “Because I’ll make sure you stay safe. Always.”

The quiet promise in his words made your cheeks flush, and you looked away, your heart fluttering in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You finally felt like you weren’t alone, and you hoped, that this, your newfound friendship with Dae-ho would blossom into something more.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Eight

Summary: Jungkook's feelings for you have grown immensely and he can't hold himself back from being honest anymore. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.6K~ (I know it's short but it was at a good stopping point and I couldn't figure out how to continue it without a big time skip/harsh break so yeah enjoy this mini chapter 😅) Warnings: No warnings just fluff a/n: Another almost four months and I only have a little bit for you 😔 I'm still trying to figure out how I want to go about finishing this story (yes it's close to the end) so please bear with me 😪 but either way I hope you enjoy!

Ever since I told him last month that I didn't want to be friends anymore and by default telling him that I wanted to be with him things have been different.

We've settled into a new routine with the tension between us no longer burning to the point I shy away but something that feel natural, domestic even. 

I guess you could say that's pretty obvious from the fact that we're living together but his subtle touches are welcomed and expected.

Things as simple as his hand on my lower back as he passes by or his arms wrapped around me from behind with his chin propped up on my shoulder or even a kiss on the forehead are all things that we've settled into and it makes me feel loved. 

Love is still a scary word for me to think about or even say aloud but it's something I feel towards him, deeply, hopelessly, painfully.

At times I remember that things could suddenly change without warning. That he could toss me out as soon as he gets fed up with waiting like Jared did. That he cou-. 

"Ow!" I cry out when he pinches my side, "What was that for?" I whine, the spot he abused  already sore. "I've been calling your name for five minutes and you didn't respond so..." he chuckles and I hum, not having the energy to scold him further. 

He wraps his arms around my waist and props his chin on my shoulder just like I had been thinking about while spacing out, leaving me relaxing into him, the feeling of being in his arms taking away some of the anxiety that had started to build. 

"You okay?" he asks, placing a kiss on my cheek to which I hum again, nodding along with it. "You sure, because you've been stirring your coffee for the past seven minutes" he says, my hand stilling once he points it out. 

I take a drink of the completely cold beverage and sigh in defeat, realizing that his words are true. 

"I wanted it cold anyways" I mumble and turn to walk over to the freezer to add some ice, Jungkook letting go but still staying close. 

"Something's wrong" he says after observing me for another second or two, very used to reading my body language. "Nothing's wrong I'm just...tired" I reply and the truth is I am. 

"My internship has been kicking my ass and I don't know, I guess it's all starting to catch up to me" I relent and he takes a turn humming, knowing I'm not telling him the whole truth. 

"You know you can tell me anything right?" he says, coming closer and cradling my face in his hands, granting him a sad smile in return. 

"I know, but I promise I'm fine. It's just been a long week that's all" he studies my features for a while and decides to take my word for it, seeing that I'm not ready to talk about it. He nods his head a tiny bit before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss on my lips, one that lasts but a moment before pulling away.

"You wanna watch something tonight?" he asks and I smile as my answer, making him chuckle. "I'll make the snacks if you wanna go choose" he offers and I nod, my face still cradled in his hands so he gives me one last kiss before letting go and leaving our source of entertainment up to me.

~~~~

As the movie we've already watched and fallen in love with plays Jungkook notices my absence even though I'm cuddled up next to him, my reactions being minimal to nonexistent.

The parts we always laugh at are met with the sounds of his enjoyment and not mine so he pauses it and waits for me to notice which I don't for a while leaving him even more worried. 

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Bunny? Did I do something wrong?" he asks and I sit up, needing him to know that he hasn't. "No, no you've been wonderful, better than I deserve honestly" I say, mumbling the last part but of course he hears it loud and clear.

"I'm good to you because I love you and you do deserve it, that's all" he admits so freely that I almost don't catch it. "You...what?" I ask, almost too scared to breathe. "I love you" he says with a crooked smile, clearly enjoying my practically speechless state.

I sit there for a minute, stunned into silence, not having expected that at all but he just laughs. "What? You didn't think I loved you?" he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair off of my face, letting his fingers trail down my neck before withdrawing his hand.

"No...I mean maybe? Isn't it a little too early for I love you's?" I ask, tentative to say it after I had been burned by...

"I don't think so. I mean it might be forward but I've loved you for a long time and I've cared about you even longer. You're someone that has been a constant in my life for many many years and the fact that you've given me permission to hold you, kiss you...well it's something that I don't think I can hold back anymore" he confesses, making me feel as though my heart might explode. 

"I-" "You don't have to say anything. Take your time and only say it if you truly mean it Darling. I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for" he says, chancing caressing my face again and rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. 

"Come here" he says and pulls me in, having me straddle him not for anything sexual but just for the need to hold me close. 

I burry my face in his neck and he rubs my back, knowing that I feel vulnerable since although he's not rushing me, I know he'll be waiting for an answer. 

"I'm scared" I mumble against his skin and he hums, understanding the situation honestly more than I wish he did. He witnessed the ups and downs of the relationship between Jared and I and sat on the sidelines, knowing he could treat me better but caring about me too much to take away my right to make my own decisions and choose who I love even if it wasn't him. 

"Take your time Bun. You know I'll always be here for you, no matter how long it takes" he reassures me of what I knew, making me nod and wrap around him even tighter, taking his words as genuine but still terrified that this could all slip away at any moment. 

~~~~

A week goes by and I still haven't said it and it's killing me.

When he says goodbye he says it, whenever we've been intimate he says it, he even says it randomly just to try to make me smile but my mind won't truly let it sink in until I say it back.

"Baby?" he asks, knocking on my partially ajar door, seeing that I've been taking a little while longer to get out of bed this morning. 

I hum and let him come in, trying to assess the state I'm in before saying anything else as he comes and sits down on my side of the bed, looking down at me and placing his hand on my waist. I'm still laying down, not having made an effort to get up just yet which I know worries him as well but he doesn't push me too hard. 

"You not feeling well?" he asks, now going to check my temperature with the back of his hand but not noticing a fever of any sort making his theory very short lived. "No, just tired" I say quietly, not having spoken a word since I woke up, my voice still raspy which I can tell he enjoys but doesn't comment on this time.

"You want me to make you something? It's already lunch time and you haven't eaten all day huh?" he asks, knowing the answer but still allowing me the chance to reply. "Yeah maybe something simple like a sandwich?" I request and he nods.

"Want me to get it from that sandwich place we love?" he suggests, rubbing small circles on my waist but I shake my head. "No I'm craving one of your sandwiches" I say making him smile, knowing one of his favorite forms of praise is compliments on his cooking. 

"Okay Bun, the usual?" he asks, knowing exactly what I want but asking just in case I'm feeling like something a little different today but I nod my head in approval making him lean down and place a kiss on my forehead before asking if I want him to bring it up here to which I decline. 

"I need to get out of bed at some point" I say and he shrugs, "You're allowed to have a lazy day every once in a while if you'd like. I could even come join you later on?" he proposes making me smile, in favor of his suggestion. 

"Can we take a nap after lunch?" I ask and he smirks a bit, testing the waters to see what I'm actually asking for. "Just a regular nap this time" I roll my eyes leaving him sighing dramatically before leaving, telling me he'll call me down when it's ready.

Once he's gone the doubt that has been plaguing my mind comes circling back.

'What if he's just saying that to take pity on me? What if he's saying it to rush me into something I'm not ready for? What if-' I groan, cutting off the spiral that I send myself down every time I'm alone and throw the blankets off before going into my bathroom and throwing cold water on my face, glaring at myself in the mirror, daring me to keep acting like this.

He loves me. He loves...me. Why am I so torn up about this? People say it all the time so it's not like it's the end of the world. It's just that...well next time I say it I want to mean it. The next time I say it I want it to be real. 

I want to say it to the man that I'll promise to say it to forevermore. 

Call me a hopeless romantic all you want but if I'm going to trust someone with my heart again I don't want to regret it...

~~~~

"Here you go Bunny" he says and places my sandwich in front of me. "I love you" I mumble, softer than I've ever said anything before but it makes his movements stutter. 

"What was that Darling?" he asks, sitting down in the seat next to me at the table. "I um...I said 'Thank you'" I chicken out and although he wants to call me out on it he doesn't.

"You're welcome baby" he says, his smile a little brighter when he realizes that I'm trying, that I want to say it too but I just don't have the confidence yet. 

"Anything for you" he finishes and caresses my cheek before getting up and grabbing his plate along with our drinks. 

"You sure you're feeling alright?" he asks, my silence through lunch palpable since whenever he tries to start up a conversation I give him small short answers that make his efforts die in his throat. 

"I've just been feeling a little funky that's all" I say and he hums, contemplating his next words which surprise me. "I'm sorry" he says, defeated and honestly quite vulnerable. "Why are you apologizing?" I ask, not thinking that he would have done anything that would require something like that. 

"I knew you weren't ready and I rushed things but I wanted to be able to say what I felt for you because it was eating me alive. Having to cut off my sentences and not being able to speak my mind fully, holding you as close to my heart as possible but not being able to tell you that you had it in the palm of your hand already I just...I couldn't do it anymore" he says, his whole demeanor shifted into an almost sorrowful state that I can't hold it back anymore.

I can't keep hurting him like this when all I want to do is scream it for all to hear, even if the thought terrifies me.

"I love you" I say making his head pop up from it's dropped state, then feeling guilty and looking at his lap again as a result. "You don't have to say it just because I did. I just wanted to apologize because I know that that's was why you've been feeling so off lately" he says but I shake my head. 

"The thought of giving my heart to someone again scares the shit out of me. After...well after going through all of that the thought of opening myself up again was not something I wanted to do. I will admit I sought you out out of lust at first but as our friendship and eventual relationship began to grow I realized that I cared about you a whole lot more that I should" I say, me now with my head turned down, not being able to keep the intense eye contact he's giving me, hanging on every word. 

"I didn't know if you were doing these things for me because you felt sorry or because you truly cared. I know now that doubting your motives was honestly my own self doubt getting the best of me. You've done nothing but love and care for me since the beginning and I haven't let myself fully process the fact that I'm..." I cut myself off and take a deep breath.

"The fact that I'm falling in love with you" and although he said those words first the admission alone has me feeling as though he hadn't, as if he would change his mind now that I reciprocated his confession but he does anything but that, further confirming his true intentions for me as he pulls me closer. 

He doesn't pull me in with a carnal passion in mind, he doesn't even pull me in for a kiss, he pulls me in and holds me close, telling me wordlessly that he's proud of me. That he's proud of me for taking that step, for trusting him with my heart, my mind, soul, fully consumed by him without abandon.

"Thank you" he whispers, his face being buried in my hair making me laugh at the ticklish feeling. "Don't make it weird" I say and poke his side making him flinch and hold me tighter. "How can I not? The woman I love loves me back" he chuckles and when I try to pull back he squeezes me tighter. 

"Just let me have my moment" he huffs making me sigh and return his crushing embrace. "I love you" he says making me burry my face into his neck, mumbling it against his skin in return. 

"Nah nah nah, say it like you mean it" he says, pushing me back just enough so he can look at me. "But I do mean it!" I roll my eyes, playing into his pouty act. "Come on, say it!" he says, pushing me back and forth, making me sway. 

"I already said it, why do you need to hear it again?" I chuckle when his pout gets deeper. "Okay fine" I give in making his brows raise at my quick defeat. "I love you" I whisper in his ear and then run away, his hold on me having loosened from pure shock of my honesty, knowing now that I truly truly mean it. 

"Get back here!" he scolds once he's come back down to earth, the surprise replaced with determination, his intentions being to not let me go til sunrise.  

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[nickistuffs]

Hello Again Pt. 1

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: This feels fated to meet again and again and again

Word Count: 18.08k

Warnings: None. just fluff and also a slow burn.

...

A ping from your email broke your concentration on work. You sighed, already assuming it was one of your manufacturers asking for yet another confirmation about a product you’d been working over for months. Without much thought, you clicked on the notification, ready to fire off a quick response.

To your surprise, the email wasn’t from a manufacturer—it was from Sam, your old friend and occasional collaborator. His subject line read: “Job Offer You Can’t Refuse.” Intrigued, you opened the email and quickly scanned its contents.

It seemed Sam had found you a project that piqued his interest—and yours. The pay was good, the timeline was tight, and the concept sounded straightforward.

You immediately picked up your phone and called him. No need for formalities; this was Sam, after all.

“Hey, Sam,” you said as soon as he answered, skipping any pleasantries. “What’s this mysterious job offer you’re dangling in front of me?”

“Oh, that.” He sounded smug, which only made you roll your eyes. “I’m under an NDA, so I can’t say too much, but it’s a pop-up store project. The whole thing needs to be modular and removable, so it can be packed up and relocated in two months. Easy, right? You in?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m in! Sounds simple enough. Send over the contract and details, and I’ll get started.”

“I knew I could count on you,” he said with a grin you could practically hear through the phone. “See you onsite, Y/N.” ...

The day of the meeting arrived, and you were ready—or so you thought.

Sam couldn’t make it and had entrusted you to lead the meeting solo, but you were used to working independently, so it wasn’t a problem. Dressed in a professional outfit that balanced comfort and confidence, you walked into the office where the meeting was being held.

As you glanced around at the product displays, your heart skipped a beat. You could already tell this was a high-profile client. Their products, branding, and visuals exuded quality and creativity.

As you tried to calm your nerves, the conference room door opened, and a group of people filed out.

A friendly woman approached you, pulling you back to reality.

“Hello, are you Ms. Y/N L/N?”

“Yes,” you replied with a polite smile, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I have a meeting with your visual merchandising manager.”

“Perfect, you’re our two o’clock appointment. Please come in.”

You stepped inside the sleek, minimalistic conference room and began setting up.

“Our lead designer just stepped out for a quick break,” the woman explained, handing you a water bottle. “They’ll be back in ten minutes and a few other designers. Is there anything else I can get you while you wait? Coffee?”

“Water is fine. Thank you,” you replied.

You opened your laptop, pulled up your notes and sketches, and jotted down a few ideas in your journal. You were mid-thought when the door opened behind you.

You turned, ready to greet whoever entered, but the words caught in your throat.

It was him. Harry Styles.

...

You both stared at each other, completely stunned. Of all the people you could run into at this meeting, it had to be him. You hadn’t seen Harry since your last encounter at Felice’s Café.

For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down, your mind scrambling to process his presence. He looked just as effortlessly charming as you remembered, his warm green eyes flickering with recognition and surprise.

Finally, Harry broke the silence, his voice smooth but slightly uncertain.

“Hello, I’m Harry Styles. I’m the owner of the company. Nice to meet you…?”

It took you a second to respond, your voice catching in your throat. “It’s Y/N. Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you as well.”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. You scrambled to your feet, standing taller than you’d expected, and reached out to shake his hand.

Your hands met, and you shook it—a bit too long, you thought as the realization hit. The warmth of his hand lingered, making you feel like time had momentarily stopped again.

You quickly dropped your hand and clasped it behind your back, your face heating up.

For a split second, an awkward silence filled the room. Harry seemed like he was about to say something, his lips parting as if to speak—

But just then, the door opened, and a small group of people filed into the room, shattering the quiet bubble you’d both been trapped in.

“Ah, great,” said a cheerful man from the group, clapping his hands together as he approached. “Harry, you’re here. And this must be Ms. L/N!”

The moment was gone. Harry straightened, his expression shifting seamlessly to one of polite professionalism, though you caught a flicker of something in his eyes as he glanced back at you.

You offered a polite nod to the newcomers, forcing yourself to focus as introductions were made. Yet, as the meeting began, you couldn’t help but feel like something important had been left unsaid.

And judging by the way Harry occasionally glanced your way, he felt the same.

...

As the meeting progressed, Harry found himself quietly observing you. Initially, he’d assumed you might be shy or reserved—perhaps because of the nervous energy that had lingered when you first met. But as you delved into your presentation, he realized just how wrong he was.

The confidence with which you spoke captivated the room. Your tone was steady yet approachable, and your words were carefully chosen to articulate your vision. You presented your design concepts with precision, highlighting the intricate details and practical functionality behind each element.

Harry leaned forward slightly in his chair, his interest piqued. The way you seamlessly balanced creativity with logic was impressive. He could tell how much thought you’d put into this project—every choice seemed deliberate, every detail purposeful.

What surprised him most, however, was your ability to command the room. You weren’t just presenting; you were selling the design, painting a picture of how the concept would come to life. And the team was eating it up.

He stole a glance around the room. His team, typically quick to interject or challenge ideas, sat quietly, nodding along with your points. Even he couldn’t help but admire the way you navigated through the questions and feedback with such ease.

When you paused for questions, Harry cleared his throat and spoke, his voice cutting through the room.

“I really appreciate the thought you’ve put into the design—it’s incredibly well-considered. I do have a question, though,” he said, his tone genuinely curious. “You mentioned incorporating natural textures into the layout. Can you elaborate on how those elements will remain modular while still maintaining their aesthetic appeal?”

You turned to him, locking eyes for a brief moment. His question wasn’t just thoughtful—it showed that he’d been paying close attention to your presentation.

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” you began, your voice steady. “That’s a great question. For the natural textures, such as reclaimed wood and stone-inspired finishes, I’ve ensured that they’re lightweight and easily removable. The modular framework uses a system of interchangeable panels, so the aesthetic can be retained without compromising functionality.”

Harry nodded, clearly impressed. “That makes sense. And it aligns well with what we’re trying to achieve here—something unique, but also adaptable. Nicely done.”

You gave him a polite smile, though inside, his compliment sent a ripple of pride through you.

As the meeting continued, Harry couldn’t help but feel drawn to the passion and expertise you brought to your work. There was something magnetic about the way you carried yourself—so composed and articulate, yet with a spark of creativity that set you apart.

And as the session wrapped up, he found himself wondering if this serendipitous reunion might be more than just a chance encounter.

As handshakes and congratulations were exchanged, the manager gave a final nod of approval, and Harry himself followed suit, offering his praise for your presentation. It had been a resounding success.

With most of the team filing out of the room, the buzz of conversation slowly faded, leaving you alone at the conference table, still stuffing your things into your bag. You were on a high from the meeting—everything had gone so smoothly, but the exhaustion from a long day was beginning to catch up.

Suddenly, you heard a soft cough. Looking up, you were surprised to see Harry still standing near the door.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, startled. “Are there any more questions you need from me, Mr. Styles?” You quickly adjusted your posture, feeling a bit flustered.

Harry smiled, the easy warmth you remembered from your past encounter resurfacing. “You can call me Harry,” he replied with a casual, almost reassuring tone. “I’m not too big on formalities. Can I call you Y/N?”

“That’s alright with me,” you answered with a smile, pleased by the friendly tone of the conversation. It felt much more natural now that the formality had faded.

A beat of silence passed before Harry spoke again, his eyes twinkling with a hint of curiosity. “So, how long have you been eating breakfast at Feli���s Café?”

You blinked, a bit taken aback by the question. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. “Oh, I’ve been going there for a while now. I usually grab a matcha latte and sometimes a sandwich. Feli’s a good friend of mine—she’s the one who got me hooked on her menu.”

Good thing I found your journal, your presentation was fantastic. Harry complimented.

Thank you again for giving it back. and sorry I was on a time crunch that I didn't introduce myself.

Harry chuckled softly, his expression warm.

You felt a sudden shift in the air between you two, the unspoken moment starting to surface. But before either of you could delve deeper into the conversation, a voice from the hallway interrupted the moment.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the manager popped his head back in, looking around. “But I just wanted to confirm we’re all set for the next steps, Y/N? Can we count on you for the design rollout next week?”

You gave a nod, quickly snapping back into professional mode. “Yes, everything is in order. I'll start on the proper revisions needed for the plans."

“Perfect,” the manager smiled, satisfied. “Thanks again for your excellent work today.”

As he left the room, you turned back to Harry, who was still standing near the door, clearly reluctant to leave just yet.

“I guess I should let you get back to your day,” you said, trying to break the lingering tension. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry’s smile widened, and he nodded slowly. “Definitely.”

...

It had been a month since you completed your work for Pleasing. You scrolled through their Instagram, admiring how your designs brought their brand to life. Seeing people lining up to buy their high-quality products filled you with a deep sense of pride.

You’d only seen Harry a handful of times during the project, but he always seemed busy, caught up in meetings or surrounded by other people.

Sighing loudly, you collapsed onto your bed, letting the exhaustion of the day wash over you. You had plans to join an art market this month, where you’d sell your prints, stickers, and other handmade knickknacks. It was something to look forward to, at least.

“Will we ever meet again?” you murmured to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. “I mean, what are the chances?” You already knew the answer before you even finished the thought. Harry was probably the busiest person you’d ever met, and you were just a nobody in his world.

Your heart felt heavy as you grappled with the cold, hard reality—he might have only been a fleeting moment in your life, a beautiful memory to cherish but not something meant to last. ...

A month had passed, and Harry still hadn’t been able to properly speak with you. He had been trying—desperately, in fact. He’d gone to the café where you first met, hoping to run into you again, but you never showed up, or you came at different times. He even tried catching you after work, but you were always whisked away to other locations or surrounded by people.

In a final act of determination, Harry had even approached HR for your contact information, but they refused to give it to him. Frustrated and defeated, he began to think maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

As he walked home one evening, his eyes caught on a brightly colored poster advertising an upcoming art market at the same location he frequented. He stared at it for a moment, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest before he brushed it off with a sigh. Maybe it was time to give up. Maybe it was never destined to happen.

But something about the poster lingered in his mind—a quiet, persistent thought that made him decide, almost on impulse, to go to the market anyway. Perhaps, by some happy chance, fate would intervene.

You were busy setting up your booth in the bustling market, carefully adjusting misaligned prints and rearranging trinkets to create the perfect display. The air buzzed with chatter and laughter, the atmosphere lively as other artists greeted passersby and showcased their work.

“Your paintings are just lovely, dear,” an elderly woman remarked, her eyes sparkling as she pointed to one of your pieces.

“They really are,” her partner chimed in with a warm smile. “We could hang one in the hallway, couldn’t we?”

“Excuse me, miss,” another potential buyer interjected, holding up one of your prints. “How much is this?”

“For the A4 size, it’s 25 pounds,” you replied with a friendly smile.

More people began to gather, drawn by the charm of your artwork. You did your best to keep up, answering questions, wrapping purchases, and making small talk with the growing crowd. It was a whirlwind, but you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride seeing so many people appreciating your work.

...

Walking through the bustling market, Harry wandered past the stalls he always loved to visit. He admired the fresh vegetables and fruits, browsed through racks of thrifted clothes, and flipped through stacks of vinyl records that always piqued his interest. But today, something different caught his attention—a special event featuring local artists who had been invited to showcase and sell their work.

As he turned toward the next stall, his eyes landed on something—or rather, someone.

It was you.

There you stood in front of your stall, surrounded by your artwork, speaking to customers with an energy that radiated warmth and passion. The light in your eyes, the way you animatedly gestured while describing your creations, the genuine smile that lit up your face—it was everything he remembered and more.

For a moment, Harry froze, rooted in place as he took it all in. You looked so at home in your element, effortlessly captivating the people around you. His heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through him. But before doubt could creep in, before he could second-guess himself, he moved.

Harry started walking toward you, his steps quick and purposeful. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but there was only one clear thought that anchored him: now or never.

This was his chance to finally talk to you—to close the distance that had been lingering between you both for far too long. He wasn’t going to let it slip away again.

...

It has been a good day so far. People were buying your prints, admiring your stickers, and complimenting your craftsmanship. You smiled to yourself, feeling content with the steady stream of visitors who appreciated your work.

Just as you reached for your water bottle, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Hello, again, Y/N.”

You froze, the cap of your bottle slipping through your fingers. Slowly, you turned toward the source of the voice, your heart skipping a beat.

There he was—Harry. Standing there amidst the sea of market-goers, looking as effortlessly charming as ever in a white T-shirt, jeans, and sunglasses perched on his curls. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile as your eyes met.

“Harry?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I thought it was you,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered over your stall, taking in the vibrant prints and trinkets on display. “This is all yours?”

You nodded, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah, just a little side project I do. How…how did you find me here?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I was just wandering around, and there you were. Funny how the universe works, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, funny.”

He looked around at your stall again, picking up one of your prints—a delicate watercolor of flowers intertwined with abstract shapes. “This is beautiful,” he said earnestly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the paper. “You’re really talented.”

“Thank you,” you said, warmth spreading through your chest at the compliment.

“Do you take commissions?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intensely focused on you.

“Sometimes,” you said, tilting your head. “Why? Are you looking for something specific?”

“I might be,” he replied cryptically, his lips curving into a playful smirk. Before you could press him further, he added, “But first, do you have a break coming up? I was thinking I could buy you a coffee.”

Your breath caught at his unexpected offer. “A coffee?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You’ve been on my mind lately, Y/N. Thought maybe this time we could actually catch up without a room full of people or work deadlines in the way.”

Your pulse quickened as you tried to process his words. Was he really asking you out, or was this just Harry being Harry—charming and polite?

“Well,” you started, glancing at your stall. “I do have a little time before the market closes…”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “I’ll wait for you to pack up, or we can just grab something nearby. Whatever works for you.”

As he spoke, the faint hum of the market seemed to fade into the background. For the first time in weeks, the heavy feeling in your chest lifted just a little. Maybe this wasn’t just a fleeting moment after all.

...

Okay, this is actually too long I’ll make it into two parts. Give you guys some suspense. Thank you for reading everyone! ☺️

[067supremacy]

Jealousy

Just some good old Jealousy trope! This was something I found in my drafts from a while ago so not my best work but I hope you enjoy! ❤️

For more check my masterlist

Your team had just managed to make it through to the next round of games. Whether it was sheer luck or divine intervention, you did it. Sae-Byeok held your hand tightly as she couldn't handle the fact her long-term partner was almost killed in front of her very eyes. Luckily for her and you, number 289 a blonde girl with Sharp features who you had invited onto the team had saved your life. The speed at which it all happened left you stunned and on shaky legs. Luckily your girlfriend Sae-Byeok was able to walk you out of the arena as you didn't feel you had the strength to do so anymore.

The gunshots ring out behind you as the team you had just eliminated is sent to their deadly maker. "That could have been us," you weakly call out to no one in particular, your mind didn't even take in who had taken your hand as you were still in a daze. A voice from behind you rang through all the buzzing going around in your brain. "You did great, we couldn't have won that round without you." The blonde who saved your life says in a cheery voice. Looking back at the game itself you can't even remember a single thing you did, Sae-Byeok took on most of the hard work for you. She was doing everything in her power to make sure you got over the line, once again showing the loyalty and love she has for you.

After making it back to the Main Hall with the bunk beds lined up the piggy bank above your head fills with the cash of the fallen. The mountain of money gets bigger and you realise that your and Sae-Byeok's dream of getting her family back together under one roof is finally in sight. The blonde from before took a seat next to you and your girlfriend. "That's a lot of money, I hope it is enough to get me out of debt" you hear a person behind you say as the multiple groups speak among themselves. It was all becoming tribalistic now, the groups were getting smaller and less trustworthy, you had the stance of making as many friends as possible but your girlfriend didn't trust easily, and she certainly didn't trust any of the low lives and criminals she was sharing this space with.

The Blonde girl rubbed your shoulder and asked how you were doing which had gotten Sae-Byeok gritting her teeth in anger but she bit down on her tongue and let it slide given that this same girl had just saved you. But the squeeze on your hand became painfully tight leading you to yelp out in pain which snaps her out of her thoughts instantly. “I’ll be back in a second,” Sae-Byeok says before making her way to the women’s restroom. She checked herself in the mirror as she cleared away the specs of blood on her face before a familiar blonde girl appeared next to her. “You’re a very lucky person.” She says as she washes her hands in the same faucet Sae-Byeok was using. “What?” Sae-Byeok responds with confusion on her face and voice.

“I would do anything to make that mine…. Watch your back because I’m coming for what is yours.” The blonde girl says all the while giving your girlfriend a cheeky smile as she starts to pace back to your position. Upon Sae-Byeok's return the after-game snacks and drinks were being served to the remaining contestants as your partner scanned the room for your existence she spotted you in a crowd, still able to pick you out of the many around you. But then she witnesses the same blonde making you laugh. She balled her hand into a fist and started storming her way to your location, she pushed the blonde out of the way and took hold of your waist while planting a kiss on your cheek. “Are you okay?” She asks with genuine concern as she studies your features. “I’m okay,,, can’t say the same for the poor girl you just threw to the floor” you respond in amusement. You knew exactly what was going on, it happened far too many times outside the games…. She was getting Jealous.

“She said she wanted what is mine…. I’ll never let that happen.” Sae-Byeok spits with venom laced in her voice at the thought of this bitch taking her pride and joy. You pull her face to while cupping her cheek to be nose to nose with her. Lips brushing close together. “Does she know that I’m owned by you? If not you should show her.” You say seductively to Sae-Byeok knowing that would perk her up, you knew she loved nothing more than making it clear who you belonged to. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down slightly, producing small moans from you that no one seems to notice except for the one pair of eyes Sae-Byeok was hoping was seeing all of this. She kissed you deeply, her tongue mingling with yours in a dance for dominance which she easily wins. You take your position as the bottom very seriously knowing it pleased Sae-Byeok beyond belief to know you were fully committed to her. As the kiss breaks apart you decide to calm her mind completely.

“I’m yours, you have nothing to worry about…. I think you should remind me of that in the restroom.” You say as you take her hand and quickly make your way to enjoy a jealousy-fueled session you are sure to remember………

[lurkingshan]

Following the latest spicy happenings, I just wanted to share again my own perspective on fandom etiquette and tumblr interaction for folks who follow or engage with me on here. I've been clear about my boundaries here, and people who choose not to respect that get what they get. I tend to write with a clear perspective and let my words speak for themselves, and while I love to discuss and even have friendly disagreements, I don’t bother responding to folks who are clearly not engaging in good faith. I block when it rises to the level of blatant rudeness or when someone is developing an unhealthy fixation.

That said, there’s really no need to be dramatic about getting blocked on tumblr. Blocking doesn't mean anything except that you don't want to engage with a person or their content anymore, for any number of reasons that are all perfectly fine and valid, because this is your curated space. It doesn't make us sworn enemies. We're all just internet strangers and no one owes you their time and attention.

If you couldn't tell, I am a fandom old. I've been in and around various fandoms, on tumblr and in lots of other online spaces, for multiple decades. I used to dwell in Western fandom spaces in the era when TV and book series were much, much longer and people had flame wars and knock down, drag out fights over canon interpretations that lasted for literal years. In comparison, today's version of fandom bickering is much milder, and extreme sensitivity about even the gentlest of critical analysis is just silly to me. In terms the youths will understand: some of y’all wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

I’m not here to be popular with everyone (that’s not possible nor a healthy goal). I’m here to write about the things I care about and connect with other folks who also enjoy discussing those things in a similar or complementary fashion. If that’s not you, and you want to unfollow or block to protect your peace, that’s completely fine and I’m not holding a grudge.

So let me be clear. Once I've blocked or been blocked by someone, I am not bothered about what they're saying or doing. I'm not squatting on their blog on the web to read their posts. I'm not asking friends to keep tabs on their commentary so I can respond to it. I'm not creating side blogs or burner accounts to slyly continue following them. I'm not going on anon to send them mean asks. All of that is weirdo behavior and deeply disrespectful of a boundary that’s been set. Once I've blocked you, or you've blocked me, I am just not thinking about you at all.

[gh7stly]

EPILOGUE — poly 141 x immortal gn!reader

<not proofread or anything, been sitting in my draft for the longest time! i hope someone'll enjoy>

The blood that painted your body itches, you noticed. It irked you, really, so the idea of spending one more hour on the same clothes you had on when you left for this mission was a torture by itself. As the helicopter shook one last time while landing, you immediately started making your way to the community bathroom, ignoring every greetings of other soldiers, previous mission partners and privates in the way. Muppets. 

“I thought the military taught basic etiquette, soldier. Been looking forward to making it home?” A voice not so strange called after you, slowly turning around as if scared to scare it away, Kate Laswell enters your vision. “Happy?”

You make a false discontent face. “Last time I saw your face I had 7 less lives in my hand, happiness is not the right feeling…. More like a bad omen?”

“I’m glad You're here and alive, then. You even taken a bath yet? There's subjects to be taken care of and I need you available as soon as possible, and, yes, I'm making the proposal again”, you take notice of how she avoided the responsibility and somehow proved your “bad omen” point, Kate's proposal didn't mean good things to come. “This is not the place to talk about it, Spook, but it is the right time. We need y-”

You bark out a laugh. “Fuck no, Laswell”, patting her on the shoulder, you turn around and start walking. “Coronel is not agreeing, plus, I have no interest in your suicide inhibitions against the US. Give up!”

“Spook. The time is running out. You know why you'd be the most important thin-”

“Thing?” 

Laswell makes a disapproving sound from getting interrupted again. Aware of the sudden seriousness of the moment, she grabs your arm to go further into the corridor away from the crowds and recruits.

“You are not a 14 year old girl, Spook. You are a soldier, a soldier responding to one of the biggest special forces in the world, and you have the ability of doing what I could only wish to do”, she stopped walking abruptly and stared down into your soul, this discussion is your least favorite one to have. “You can fuck up. Has this not internalized into you yet? Dead boys are sent to their mamas everyday for a tiny mistake but you have the ability of throwing it all into the air and walking away unharmed, so why not use who you are for the better cause? We need you”

Her words punctuated your gut, your frustrations boiled up deep in your stomach and revealed itself by the shaking in your hands; they've gotten worse recently, you've come to notice. There wasn't much to do about it except put them into fists and dig your nails deep into the palm of your hand until it made you grounded enough to find your voice, stuck in the back of your throat. This subject, this proposal and its implications had enough force to make you crumble easily, Laswell of course knew nothing about it – just that you were stubborn and kept refusing. 

“I am here because you asked me to make you useful, because you wanted to help. I know you're a human, Spook, but you're in the military and not a playground. What you want is not what you're getting sometimes, not because you don't matter, but because you are a useful trick we could have up our sleeve. So I'm going to ask you again, are you going to fucking help or not?

Staying in silence, you bit your tongue to stop from getting an insubordination letter. Part of you, the human part you guessed, felt talked down still. Did you ask for this life? Who made you this way? Wanting to help didn't mean killing yourself on purpose on missions, didn't mean getting used by superiors like an unbreakable toy. You're here because you wanted to be a hero, but right now, you're afraid of having more blood on yourself than the villains.

The other part, the freak one as you called, knew that that's exactly what you were. A puppet. From the moment you joined the military, it was better to devoid yourself from feelings, needs, or any basic thought. You liked it, even. Getting pushed to the limits of morality, treated like a piece of a big chess match. A cold air passed through you both until you finally had swallowed enough ego to speak.

“Let me at least change clothes and then you can go through your little plan." That was the closest thing to a yes you could've gotten before puking bile, but it was enough for her.

“Thank you, Spook. 1700 sharp” nodding, you let out a sigh you weren't aware of holding.

“You're a bad omen, Laswell. After today, I hope it'll be a long time until we meet again.” Even with the harsh words, a project of a smile showed in your face. Kate Laswell was probably the closest thing to a mom you'll ever have in your life. “I agree.”

[red-writes]

unknown

yandere! izuku x reader

you went from being scared of the unknown caller that constantly blew up your phone with creepy messages and texts to somehow staying up late waiting for his call so you could moan into the phone while he tells you how to touch yourself.

cw: yandere behaviors/words, phone sex, ft sex, pet name princess is used.

a/n: ughhhhh pls I’ve hard this idea for forever now but I only just now decided to write it

he was such a creep. he knew everything there was to know about you. your bra size, your shampoo and conditioner brands, even what the password was on your phone. it was creepy, he was creepy. and yet. somehow every night like clock work you'd shower and get ready for bed only to not sleep. at around eleven pm, your phone would ring. it would be a different number, with a different area code each day. today it was a 917. you answered with a quickness that could only be labeled as desperation. you held the phone to your ear.

“hello?” your breathing was already so heavy and he hadn't spoken a word, did he really have that much of an effect on you?

“good evening princess, how was work?” he inquires. his voice is so deep and it sends shivers throughout your whole body and the night had barely begun. you cleared your throat before speaking again, a sort of effort to keep yourself from melting into a pile of lusty goo barely 2 minuets into the conversation.

“annoying, as per usual. you?” this part of the conversation was strictly a formality, Izuku is meticulous and organized, there are some things that need to happen first before the fun.

“hard, but I wouldn't trade it for any other in the world” he quips and you sort of smile, apparently he was a big time pro hero, he claimed that you definitely saw him on tv and in magazines everywhere. 

“well, I'm glad you weren't hurt” you say and he gives you a gentle hum of agreement. there's silence for a moment before Izuku says anything else. 

“that co-worker of yours..denki, I think he might have a thing for you” Izuku expresses and your stomach drops but at the same time your cunt begins pulsing with need. he was jealous, its always more fun when he gets jealous.

“oh? why do you say that?” you respond and Izuku gives you a deep chuckle that has your hand twitching with the need to slip underneath the elastic of your panties.

“he always brings you lunch, hands always touching you in some way, it’s starting to irritate me you know” you hear him sigh from the other line and you’re giddy with excitement.

there’s a small buzzing coming from your phone and you pull it away from your ear to observe it, it’s a video call from Izuku. you’re quick to answer. he never shows his face but you have to show yours, so you turn the camera to face you and give him a small smile.

“hi izu” you whisper and you hear him chuckle, “aww, you sound so shy, are you embarrassed or eager? It’s hard to tell” he says.

“definitely both” you admit and with an amused huff of air falling from his mouth that concludes the small talk portion of the evening, Izuku’s camera turns on and you’re able to see everything except his face. his neck, chest and torso all on display. he was well built, he definitely had the body of a pro hero that’s for sure, his body was also covered in a light dusting of freckles that you thought were actually kind of cute.

“turn that camera around for me princess” he says and you do so, hitting the reverse camera button with your thumb.

“pretty panties, you’re finally wearing the ones I sent you, good girl.” he rewards and you’re preening from the praise. you angle the camera a bit lower so he can see directly between your legs,

“I’ll admit that.. I've been thinking about you all day” the light from your phone shows the dampness of your underwear and for some reason, it feels good to know that he's watching this, watching you. 

“I see. you're soaked my love, how about you take off your undies and show me how wet you are” 

You rested your phone on the bed before shimmying out of your panties and tossing them off the edge of your bed. You pick up your phone and angle the camera once again between your legs. 

“God you're so pretty aren't you?” he mumbles, more to himself than you and it does nothing but cause your nipples to stiffen under your shirt and a small ‘please’ to fall from your lips. 

“Go ahead and gather up some of your pretty pussy’s arousal and start rubbing your clit nice and slow for me” he says and you can see him gripping his cock in his hand and slowly stroking it with a focus on his tip, squeezing it a bit and he sucks in a breath when a drop of pre-cum lands on his abs. 

The show he puts on for you acts as more incentive to follow his orders. You gather up slick from your drooling hole and begin drawing small circles on your clit and the pleasure is immediate. You're unsure of what it is about tonight but your moans were already beginning to leak from your mouth and this slow pace was only frustrating you.

“I-Izu..can I speed up?” you asked and he chuckled from the other line

“Already starting to feel it? You weren't kidding when you said you'd been looking forward to this, were you ladybug?” 

When you don't reply he sighs softly, “You're so sensitive tonight, stop for me little one, I got a surprise for you” 

Your brain is a little hazy when you pull your fingers away from clit, it throbs visibly and Izuku coos. 

“Surprise?” 

“Mhm. check the first drawer on your night stand” 

“Can I set the phone down while I go check?” and he hums in approval. 

You place your phone on your bed and walk on slightly shaky legs to your large oak nightstand. You hook your fingers in the loops attached to the first drawer and a small gasp leaves your lips at the sight of a pink vibrator. 

It’s small enough to fit in your palm, with a bulbous head and a tail that trailed behind it you could guess where this was going. 

You climb back in bed and pick up your phone, “Found it.”

“Good job ladybug, grab some lube, don't want you to hurt yourself” he says and you feel your heart skip a beat at the caring sound of his voice.

You grab the lube resting on the bedside table and you lay back in bed. You wet the toy and gently push it inside of yourself. You whimper at the stretch it provides you and Izuku praises you from behind the screen. 

“You know what's special about this toy? I’m the one controlling it.” he mentions, you can see his cock twitch on the screen and he shows you the small plastic remote in his hands. He clicks one of the buttons and it causes the toy to activate, low vibrations course through your body and instantly you clench down on the toy. 

“O-oh..wow” you say and Izuku hums softly at your reaction.  “Tell me you want more and I’ll give it to you, I'll give you everything and anything you want” he says and you can see him resuming the slow stroke he paused earlier.

“I want more Izuku. please” you huff out and as soon as the words leave your mouth the vibrator is turned on the highest setting and it causes your back to arch off the bed and the phone to drop from your hand. 

“Tell me you're mine” he says and you can hardly respond, trying to get used to the feel of the strong vibrations that cause your cunt to squeeze down on the plastic down desperately. Slick pours from your cunt causing the sheets under you to become sticky. 

“I-I’m yours Izuku!” you whine and you him hum in approval. 

“Pick up the phone, I want to see that desperate little cunt of yours”

You do as you’re told and spread your legs, showing off your pussy with shaky hands. 

“Atta girl, you're so good for me” 

You can feel the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, your cunt is already spasming around the toy, threatening an orgasm. 

“Izu- g’nna cum, please can I cum?” 

“Mmm..” he says as if he's thinking about it. Your whimpers of desperation continue and Izuku’s hand on his cock speeds up, assuringly approaching his own orgasm. 

“Please please ‘m so close” you pant and a shiver runs through your body.

“Cum for me lovely” he grunts, cum splashes on his own abs and that pushes you over the edge and it forces your orgasm to brush over you like a wave, a gush of liquid shot out of your cunt and onto the camera lens. you dropped your phone as your body spasmed. 

Once you came down from your high, Izuku had ended the FaceTime and reverted to normal phone call. Only your heavy breaths were heard from behind the phone.

“How was it?” he asked and you giggled tiredly 

“Really good” 

“You sleepy ladybug?”

“Mhm..”

“Make sure to clean up before falling asleep lovely”

“Mhm” you yawned. 

“Want you to get some sleep then tomorrow I'll call you same time okay?”

“Yeah..see you tomorrow” you slurred and he chuckled softly from behind the phone

“Goodnight my love”

[yoredoesmore]

Hello! I saw you opening request again, can I have a request for soshiro and fem reader where they spend time each other for holiday?

Maybe they're having a cafe date in this cold season or maybe ice skating or spend time alone together?

Memories of Snow | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Fem!Reader

genre: /romance/fluff overload

summary: You take your boyfriend out on a cute date to help him relax during the holidays.

wc: 1,7k

a/n: I'm falling to my knees, rubbing my hands together and apologizing for taking this long for your request. please accept my apology anon please please please 😣

Enjoy :>

It was that time of the year again. Tokyo sat covered in a crystal white blanket and the freezing temperatures urged everyone to take out their coats and fuzzy winter scarfs. Christmas lights illuminated the streets and the smell of baked goods and hot chocolate lingered in the air.

It was a beautiful time to be, and your favorite.

Your mitten covered hands tried their best to work the phone in your hands. The cold air threatened to dry out your skin the second it came in contact with it, which is why you refused to take them out of the warm fabric. You knew better now.

It was already five past seven and Soshiro had yet to respond to all your messages.

“Im ag the Christmas makest where eate hiu”

Soshiro has long adjusted to your typos, therefore you did not bother to correct your mistakes (not that it was possible with these things on anyway).

Worried that something might have happened to the man, you tried to dial his number but upon the first sound ringing up, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist.

“Someone's impatient.” Soshiro placed a gentle hand on your cheeks before leaning in for a kiss. His lips moved gently over yours, capturing your heart in a swift motion.

“Yes, because you're usually on time.” You rolled your eyes in a playful manner as you pulled away from him and smiled, immediately forgiving his actions.

“So, what does my Snow Angel have planned for us?” His hands wrapped around your fuzzy mittens. One thing you have noticed was that Soshiro loved matching your nickname to whatever season or event was currently taking place. It was a cute habit of his, one that you have gotten deeply attached to.

The both of you began to walk down the christmas market, taking in the beautiful scenery around you and the sweet smell of roasted almonds. You have been looking forward to this day ever since he got the green light to take this day off. Attending the christmas market was like a tradition, one the both of you have grown quite fond of.

“Sooo, it occurred to me that we never went ice skating together and lucky us, the market renovated their ice skating rink! I got us two tickets for that and afterwards we can grab something to eat and look around a bit more.”

While you were talking, Soshiro couldn't help but lose himself in your presence. your eyes shone with such anticipation and joy, it caused his heart to melt the cold around him away.

He was always so on edge at work, as the vice president it was his duty to take care of everything around him and protect his division after all. It was a constant pressure that rested on his shoulders. But with you around him, that weight was lifted and he was able to enjoy the moment.

When it came to dates specifically, it was usually you who took care of everything. The reservations, the schedule, the dress code– you loved taking care of it all. Of course it was always nice to see Soshiro handle those things when he found the time but most of the time, all he had to do was show up and take care of the financial aspects.

Upon arriving at the skating rink, you noticed how many people were already enjoying the sports. Couples, families and friends danced around on the ice, having an enjoyable time. You have been looking forward to this for ages now and you couldn't wait to try this out with your boyfriend. But as you turned around to look at his face, he had a..less excited expression on.

“What's wrong, Soshiro?” you asked, pulling your tickets out of your bag.

“Don't tell me that you have never done this before.” Your words were meant to be taken as a joke, you didn't even look at him as you spoke that sentence but when Soshiro didn't laugh or make any other signs that he hadn't taken your words to heart, you paused in your actions.

“No way..”

“It's not that big of a deal, I mean how hard can this be.” The man crossed his arms over his chest, the usual sassy expression hanging on his lips. He was avoiding eye contact as well, what a cutie.

You wanted to tease Soshiro for this. Poke at his ego a little and drop a few jokes but you decided against your worse judgment. Your boyfriend was amazing at many things, so many that it was painful to compare your achievements. Thus, having him admit that he was unable to do such simple thing as holding himself up on the ice did feel like a win for you.

This was going to be interesting.

*

He was exceptional.

Soshiro moved on the ice as if he was born to do so. Your boyfriend made it seem effortless, keeping his posture while elegantly moving through the crowd. It was a sight to behold, watching the man who almost stumbled over himself upon entering the icy rink now holding himself up like it was nothing.

Meanwhile you stood in the corner, admiring his skills.

You had told him that you needed a break but in reality you simply wished to admire the man.

It should not have been that much of a surprise to you, after all you were well aware of his abilities as noted before. The master of blades and swift movements was bound to find his calling on the ice. And not to mention– he looked unbelievably handsome.

Once the lap was finished, Soshiro returned to your side. His chest heaved up and down in order to regain his stamina and his rapid breaths visualized in the cold evening wind as misty clouds.

“This is funnier than expected.” Soshiro smiled, placing his hands on his hips.

“You sure are enjoying yourself, Soshiro.”

“Sure am. My girlfriend is excellent at picking fun activities after all.”

A knock of wind suddenly hit your face as you found yourself being dragged back into the center of the ring. “Let's try it together!”

Soshiro didn't even wait for your answer as he urged your stiff body closer to his. But you did not complain nor refuse, as you were all too used to Soshiro's sudden antics and therefore simply followed behind him.

You haven't laughed like this since breakfast this morning. Soshiro held your hands while moving along to the music. Your feet followed him, matching his pace and rhythm. The people around you almost became nonexistent in your eyes– it was simply the two of you who existed in the moment.

He held your hands as you tried a trick and pulled you back up after failing miserably. But you just laughed it off, not paying the failure any attention.

But before you knew it an hour passed and it was time to clear the ice. Soshiro and you went for one last round before the magical time was over.

“What a bummer. I could have gone for another hour.”

Hearing him say this earned a smile out of you. The smile on your face sat brightly as you wrapped your hand around his and pulled him along.

“The day's not over, so let's find something else to do!” Soshiro welcomed your enthusiasm by giving your hands a soft squeeze.

You ended up walking around the market for another hour, relishing in the festive spirit, enjoying the moment and stopping by almost every food stand. And just when you believed that the night could not go any better it started snowing.

Tiny crystals of ice landed on your skin and melted on impact. This was no weather to return home to, Soshiro said and guided you towards the nearby river.

Less people now walked the street but those who were outside enjoyed the view of the water along with the snow.

“Remember last year, when we went to the christmas market and it started snowing just like this? A little earlier than now but it was so beautiful.”

“And so cold as well. Yer fingers almost froze off.” The both of you laughed at the memory, the image of you desperately trying to heat up your fingers by rubbing them against each other so clear in your mind.

You were about to continue the story, when all of a sudden you found your arms being lifted up to your chest. One by one, Soshiro removed your mittens, until your fingers stood exposed in the cold winter air.

“Instead of buying yourself gloves Y/n, ya asked me to hold yer hand instead, but im pretty sure that mine were just as cold as yours."

Soshiro chuckled. "And I wasn't allowed to wear my gloves anymore either, ya said somethin bout 'let's suffer together'. Froze my one hand off that day but the other one did feel kinda warm."

And just like that, Soshiro took your hand in his and smiled. It wasn't a grin or one of his sheepish smiles but one that instantly warmed your hands and heart.

“So..would it be selfish of me to ask you to do the same for me now?”

Your words temporarily got stuck in your throat as you found yourself unable to answer him. Soshiro was so smooth with his words, catching you off guard in the moments you least expected it. But most importantly, he was sweet and caring and meant everything he said.

“You're already holding them, silly.” You somehow managed to reply, slightly flustered by his tender smile.

“And I already feel so much better.” He replied, pocketing our mittens with a sheepish smile.

The snow continued to fall over the world as the two of you walked down the river, hand in hand, while enjoying the beautiful scenery and old memories.

[lillytalons]

ADOLIN & MAYA

Apparently I have a ton to say about Adolin and Maya from Wind and Truth.

Spoilers Ahead!! 

Maya getting the deadeyes is like the greatest payoff of finding out about them existing all over Shadesmar and specifically the lost deadeyes on the bottom of the ocean who I had assumed had to have the eternal tragedy of being ‘dead’ and lost forever. The spren coming back to more real life with the reversal of the broken oath to Ba Ado Mishram is just so great. I should remember, there’s pretty much always payoff with Sanderson, even if it takes a while. 

Also the suit up moment had me jumping and celebrating it was just so beyond good. 

Honestly, Adolin potentially living forever without his leg is a cool concept, like the shardplates adjusting for him showing that past radiants didn’t have all their limbs was great but not it also sets Adolin apart again because so many of the radiants would be able to heal themselves, not all obviously but most. I’m excited to explore it in the future.

He got his plate through inheritance and who knows exactly which dead spren it’s made of, but I’d like to think fate was involved. The Plate starting to respond to him like Maya originally did was just beyond amazing. We haven’t seen a lot of differences in living plate yet since we have a small sample size, but so far we know that wind spren can move to others at a drop, and creation spren seem to have a lot more flexibility with form (though that could just be because Shallan thought to ask for it), but the chances that his plates are from the pair with cultivation spren isn’t great. Honestly with the movement and permission, so far I’d say wind Spren but maybe we’ll get that answer eventually. 

Maya being a soldier is just incredible, like she doesn’t seem to remember or mention healing or anything, but she knows war, and is the perfect match for Adolin. Having someone to talk to about everything and someone who really understands the kind of sacrifices he needs to make without a fight has got to be a major benefit for both of them. Most of the Spren now are learning everything from scratch, are very young comparatively, and have to slowly grow memories and the like. But Maya, while silent and relearning how to talk and interact, doesn’t have to be taught about complex ideas. Which is good since she’s basically thrown from talking again to one of the most important battlefields in Roshar’s history. There wasn’t time for ethics/people lessons like Syl and Kaladin had time for. 

Maya is so interesting because we mostly know new spren who have never been bonded and it seems like spren have been staying away from learning about fighting as a whole, their own cultures’ way to avoid the atrocities of the radiants. But the deadeyes have a lot of possible wisdom and such to offer, now that they can talk again. Plus, depending on how old Maya is, she could have been bonded to several soldiers, killed during recreances and bonded to a new one, if she was a solider she would have bonded again, so she understands death. As one of the shards found in an obvious place and protected and passed down, she could have been hooked to important radiants that were in the middle of the fighting. 

And I’m sure there are plenty of cultivation spren like Wyndle that don’t like fighting, wouldn’t have bonded to radiants if at all possible. So spren like Maya would have picked up the slack to keep fighting.

Not to mention, well no one really has stormlight right now, but the potential lessons the unoathed could teach to new and current radiants are huge! Yes the radiants are figuring out a lot and in some ways benefit from not actually having an instruction manual to limit their thinking, but gentle nudges if they’re missing important and useful ways to use lashings will be helpful. Until the heralds come back, or they find more records in Urithiru, the un-oathed are all they have (especially with the Stormfather and his habit of giving visions gone. Lucky Dalinar wrote it down before dying I guess)

Back to the discussion of fate, Adolin’s sword being a cultivation spren just makes sense. He’s barely connected to Honor and Odium, not bowing to the passions and disliking oaths more and more (Dalinar could have learned a bit from him), which means if he’s connected to any of the three shards, it’s Cultivation. And he does have the history of slowly but doggedly cultivating friendships, relationships, building people’s skills, heck even talking to his blade before every battle is much more a cultivation trait than anything else. Despite some of his impulsivity, he’s got an awful lot of patience that most of the characters don’t.

The potential powers for edgedancers are healing and friction. He almost was using friction during many of his fights, especially during his last fight, leaning into the movement of his peg and basically using moments of friction and movement like edgedancers do. He has a history of perfect footwork and movement in his duels. Even leaping and moving across the dome in an insane show of momentum proves my point. 

Then with the healing, he has more respect and understanding of both normal healers and mind healing than most. Beyond that, he’s a good tactician and all, but more and more he hates fighting, doesn’t even really want the duels, he feels very Eowyn coded, can and will fight to the end, but wants to be a healer and focus on growing things (maybe metaphorically). He heals Yawagawn emotionally by seeing he needed a friend and again building him and his skills up.

He remembers those that have been forgotten, whether a lonely boy emperor, a bridgeboy or a young girl who wants to fight, he treated his blade and plate as sentient years before it was even considered that they could be, before anyone knew anything about them, he was ensuring that they wouldn’t be lost forever, which also ties into listening to those who have been ignored. He wants people to be able to make their own decisions and not be beholden to others, whether through class lines or oaths, and it’s so good. He follows the soul of edgedancers and radiants without being beholden to oaths and Honor because he’s seen a lot of things can go wrong with that. And he was right! Beyond never abandoning Maya (which I loved him for) he’s now really free of the issue of Retribution.

And he helped save the only human kingdom to stay free of Odium! He’s just the best.

[silver-hwaberry]

ONE: i can see you...

Warnings: bullying, implied eating disorder and mentions of controlled eating but no details

Word count: 4.6k

⭑2016⭑

Yeonghwa let out a heavy sigh as she plopped into her usual seat at the back of the classroom. The School of Performing Arts Seoul was both a blessing and a curse for Yeonghwa, being the youngest member of the popular 5 member K-pop girl group Moonlight. Not only was she the maknae of the group, she was also the main dancer and lead rapper but also a vocalist too, and had been dubbed ‘Koreans sweetheart’ by the media too.

As she gazes around the room, she could feel the weight of the judgemental stares and hushed whispers following her every move. Despite her fame, high school was still a daily struggle for Yeonghwa. Even though she had debuted two years earlier and found success, she was still only 17 years old and had to attend high school in Korea. Her hectic schedule often kept her from attending class on a regular basis and made it difficult for her to keep up with her studies compared to her peers. She was also the only member of her group who was still in school.

The pressure of being a popular idol while also trying to maintain her education was overwhelming. However, it was a requirement set by her parents when they allowed her to move from Yeosu-si to Seoul at the age of 13 to become a trainee. "Don't forget about your education," they told her, and she was determined to make them proud by excelling in both areas.

As she pulls out her textbooks, she feels the weight of dozens of eyes on her.

"Did you see her performance last night?"

“What was she even wearing? It was hideous!”

“Her ass is way too big to be wearing that skirt last night! It would have looked much better on Jinni instead.”

“No way, Haneul would have rocked that outfit! Don’t know why they give it to her!”

“Probably because she would have had a tantrum at someone else being centre of attention. Little Miss Attention Seeking once again!”

"They need to kick her out of the band, Areum is a much better dancer and she can actually rap too.”

The murmurs swirl around her, a constant reminder that she didn't belong here. Her phone buzzes, and she discreetly checks it under her desk. It was a message from Haneul, their leader:

"Meeting with the manager after school. New variety show opportunity for you."

Yeonghwa's stomach clenches. Another commitment to juggle. Another reason she'll fall behind in class. But she knew better than to complain. This was the life she'd chosen, the dream she'd fought so hard for. She'd make it work somehow. She always did.

Yeonghwa puts her phone away and keeps her head down, trying to focus on the lesson ahead. Just as the teacher was about to begin, the classroom door slides open suddenly causing everyone to look over.

"Sorry I'm late!" A tall boy with a kind smile rushes in, bowing apologetically to the teacher.

"You must be the new student transferring into my class," the teacher responds.

"That's me!" The boy grins, clearly excited to be joining the class.

The teacher awkwardly turns to address the class, struggling to remember the boy's name. "This young man will now be joining our class. Let's all make sure to give him a warm welcome."

"He's so good-looking!" Yeonghwa hears from the girl sitting in front of her.

“You can sit over there, beside Aria!” the teacher points at the empty seat beside her

Yeonghwa feels her chest tighten as some quiet laughs are heard around the room. She hated people calling her by her stage name. As he makes his way to his seat, his eyes meet Yeonghwas. Instead of the usual judgement or disdain she was used to, she saw warmth.

The boy slides into the empty desk beside her. "Hi," he whispers, offering a friendly grin. "You're Yeonghwa, right?"

Yeonghwa nods cautiously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But his smile only widens. "Cool! It is nice to meet you! I’m Yunho!"

She blinks, caught off guard by Yunho's friendly demeanour. She opens her mouth to respond, but the teacher's sharp voice cuts through the air.

"Yunho, Aria, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"No, sir," Yunho replies smoothly. "Just introducing myself to Yeonghwa."

The teacher narrows his eyes. "Well, do it on your own time. Now, if everyone can get their textbooks out we will begin with..."

“Oh I don’t have a book for this class yet.” Yunho whisper quietly.

Yeonghwa slowly slides her textbook towards the centre of their shared desks, allowing Yunho to read from it as he thanks her. As the lesson continues, Yeonghwa can't help but glance over at Yunho every now and then. She is both curious about him and apprehensive, wondering if he will make a snide comment or try to take a covert photo of her like everyone else does.

In the middle of class, a wadded up paper lands on her desk. She carefully unfolds it, fully anticipating yet another mean joke directed at her. It had become commonplace for notes to be tossed onto her desk, teasing and mocking her. However, when she opened this one, she was surprised to find a drawing of their teacher with exaggeratedly large ears and the caption: "Do you think he could pick up satellite signals with those? Or is it just me?"

Yeonghwa tries to suppress a giggle as the teacher gives her a stern glance. Yunho shoots her a sly wink, and she feels a flutter in her heart. As the class progresses, Yeonghwa finds herself surprisingly interested and engaged. Having Yunho by her side seems to protect her from the usual judgemental whispers and glares of her classmates.

While the teacher has his back turned, Yunho leans in closer to Yeonghwa. "Do you think his ears are more like a satellite dish or an elephant's?" he whispers.

Yeonghwa stifles a laughter and responds, "Definitely a satellite. I bet he can pick up signals from other planets."

Yunho feigns seriousness as his eyes widen. "That would explain a lot." before laughing lightly.

Just then, the teacher spun around, eyeing them suspiciously. Yeonghwa quickly pretends to be engrossed in her textbook, while Yunho adopts an expression of angelic innocence that was so over-the-top it nearly made her snort.

As soon as the coast was clear, Yunho scribbles another note and slides it her way. This time, it was a rough sketch of the teacher with antennae sprouting from his ears, captioned: "Houston, we have a problem."

Yeonghwa couldn't help it - a giggle escapes before she could clamp her hand over her mouth. The teacher's head snaps up, his gaze zeroing in on her like a heat-seeking missile.

"Aria, is there something amusing about the Pythagorean theorem?"

Yunho jumps in before she could stammer out a response. "Actually, sir, I was just asking Yeonghwa if she could explain it to me later. Math isn't my strong suit."

The teacher's eyebrows shot up. "Well, that's... commendable. But please save your study plans for after class."

As he turns back to the board, Yeonghwa shot Yunho a grateful look. He winks back, then mouths, "Nice save, right?"

She rolls her eyes, but couldn't quite hide her smile. For the first time in ages, she actually felt like a normal high school student. It was... nice.

As the lunch bell rang, the two girls sitting in front of him immediately turned to face him. Their curious gazes were met with a polite smile from Yunho.

"So Yunho, how are you finding SOPA?" one of them asked, leaning in with a smile.

"It's only my first day, but I'm enjoying it so far," he responded confidently. Beside him, Yeonghwa hurriedly gathered her belongings, her head bent low.

“Some students are more skilled than others,” the other girl remarks. Yunho picks up on her tone and notices the glance she directs towards Yeonghwa. “We can show you who they are.”

Yunho's eyes shift towards Yeonghwa, noticing her tense posture and how she has pulled her long hair to cover her face as she looks down. She seems to have retreated within herself, just as she was when he first joined her this morning. Gone is the playful and open demeanour she had displayed with him moments ago. He couldn't help but notice the looks their classmates had been giving her during their lessons as well and it dawned on him that this was a regular occurrence for her.

Yunho responds firmly, "Thank you for the offer, but I think I can manage on my own. Actually, I've already made up my mind about 2 of them." His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at them

The two girls exchange glances, visibly surprised by Yunho's response.

"Oh really?" the first girl asks with a sugary smile, though her eyes betray her true feelings. "And what have you decided?"

"That they're exactly the type of people I avoid," Yunho says cheerfully as he gathers his books. "You know the kind - they think they're better than everyone else because they talk behind people's backs. Jealousy really is an ugly thing."

Yeonghwa's head snaps up, her eyes wide. A few students nearby, who were clearly listening in, suddenly find something else to focus on.

"Excuse me?" the second girl splutters, her cheeks turning red. "You can't just say that! We don't even know you!"

"And thank god for that," Yunho retorts, getting to his feet. He turns to Yeonghwa. "Come on, let's get out of here."

The two girls storm off in a huff as Yeonghwa stares at Yunho, trying to process what just happened as all the students begin filtering out the classroom, Yunho and Yeonghwa gather their things and are the last to leave.

“Are you alright?” Yunho asks, his tone filled with concern as he worries that he may have crossed a line.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, grateful but also feeling guilty.

“I did it because I can’t stand people who act like they’re better than others when they really aren’t,” he replies with sincerity. “And because I really did not like the way they were speaking to you and looking at you.” he adds feeling a slight blush creep on his cheeks

“Thank you for standing up for me,” Yeonghwa says shyly. “And for not calling me Aria either.”

"Well, Aria is just your stage name, right? Here at school, I figured it was better to use your real name, Yeonghwa."

Yeonghwa nods gratefully, glad that he understands the difference. “Yes, I prefer Yeonghwa, especially in this setting. But most people keep calling me Aria and it drives me crazy!” Which Yeonghwa knew was exactly their intentions when they call her it.

Yunho nods in understanding and leans in, speaking quietly. "Can I ask a question? Does the teacher always look like he's sucking on a lemon, or is that just for my benefit?"

Yeonghwa lets out a loud laugh and tries to hide her amusement behind her hand. "No, that's just his normal expression. I don't think he knows how to smile."

Yunho grins and adds, "I'll remember to include that in my 'SOPA Survival Guide.' Right after 'Avoid the cafeteria food at all costs.'"

"That's not even the worst part," Yeonghwa groans. "Trust me, bring your own lunch if you don't want to glow in the dark."

“Well, that works out perfectly because I have no intention of having lunch here anyway,” he chuckles.

“Why’s that?” Yeonghwa asks with curiosity

"My friend attends a nearby school and I prefer to join him for lunch." he explains as they descend the stairs. "He's a slow eater and feels self-conscious about it, so I like to keep him company."

"Oh," Yeonghwa smiles, "That's really kind of you."

“And what about yourself? What do you usually do for lunch?” he asks.

Yeonghwa shifts her gaze towards the floor. "Um.. I actually don't eat lunch at the moment."

Yunho stops in his tracks and turns to face Yeonghwa. "Why?" he asks, furrowing his brow.

“Comeback is in 3 weeks so.. you know, need to make sure everything fits and looks good.” she replies with a small shrug.

Yunho's expression changes to one of disbelief as he processes her words. "Let me get this straight. You're starving yourself just to fit into some ridiculous outfit?"

Yeonghwa fidgets with the strap of her bag. "It's not like that. It's just... you know, part of the job."

"That's bullshit," Yunho says firmly, his voice low but full of conviction. "No job description should require you to harm your own body."

Yeonghwa raises her head, surprised by his bluntness. "You don't get it. In this industry-"

"In this industry, they see you as a commodity instead of a person," Yunho interrupts. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I understand the pressure and expectations. But starving yourself? That's fucked up."

Yeonghwa bites her lip, unsure of how to respond. Part of her wants to defend herself, but another part is relieved that someone is acknowledging the truth. "I do eat, just not as much as most people. And it is only for comeback season, after that I go back to eating normally!"

Yunho rolls his eyes. "That's not healthy! As a trainee, I know my company makes sure we are well-fed and taken care of. Yours should be doing the same for you too!”

Yeonghwa is surprised. "You're a trainee?"

Yunho nods, his expression softening. "Yes, at KQ," he confirms. "Okay, new plan. You're coming to lunch with me and my friend."

"What? No, I couldn't possibly-" Yeonghwa starts to protest.

"Yes, you can," he insists firmly. "I won't make you eat if you don't want to. But just come hang out with us for a bit and get away from this place. And I think you'll really like my friend Mingi too!"

“Yunho, I am not allowed to leave the building until my manager picks me up.” she anxiously bites her lower lip, “Or go anywhere without him either.”

Yunho's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Seriously? Are you Rapunzel or something? This is a school, not a prison."

Yeonghwa sighs. "More like a gilded cage."

"Well, consider me your dashing rescuer," Yunho grins, then immediately winces. "Shit, that sounded way less cheesy in my head."

"My knight in shining armour," Yeonghwa deadpans, though there's a small smile on her face.

Yunho leans in and looks around secretively. "Okay, here's the plan. We create a diversion. Smoke bombs might work, or maybe we could train a monkey—"

"A monkey?" Yeonghwa laughs and shakes her head. "As tempting as your primate-powered jailbreak sounds, I really can't risk it. My company would flip their shit if they found out, not to mention Haneul would probably have an a stroke!"

"Yeah, my leader would probably do the same. Hongjoong's head always looks like it's about to pop off, and there aren't many of us training," Yunho chuckles.

“How many is there so far?” she asks with curiosity

“Only four - Hongjoong, Mingi, San, and myself. San joined us fairly recently.” Yunho answers. “There is someone we are trying to poach from another company as well that others are wanting. Hongjoong wants him badly so hopefully we will have a new person soon too.”

“Mingi? The friend you’re meeting for lunch?” Yeonghwa clarifies.

"That's him! We met years ago at a dance academy, and then we both ended up auditioning for the same company without even knowing it. It was fate," he laughs before frowning and tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, new plan 2.0. We'll bring lunch to you. I'll text Mingi and-"

"No!" Yeonghwa's eyes widen in panic. "You can't do that. If anyone sees..."

"Don't worry," Yunho reassures her, holding up his hands. "We'll be stealthy. Like ninjas. Or really clumsy spies."

Yeonghwa hesitates, her lips caught between a smile and worry. "I don't know..."

"Come on," Yunho nudged her playfully. "Live a little. What's the worst that could happen?"

"You want me to give you a list of all the worst things that could happen with that plan?" Yeonghwa arches an eyebrow.

"Point taken," Yunho concedes. "But consider this: free food."

“I honestly can’t anyway because of last nights performance I wasn’t able to finish my homework for our next class so I am on my way to the library.” she says, “But go have lunch with your friend and we can maybe have a ninja picnic another day.”

Yunho sighs dramatically causing Yeonghwa to giggle lightly. "Well, if you change your mind about our super-secret ninja lunch, just give me the signal."

"The signal?" Yeonghwa raises an eyebrow.

"You know, like..." Yunho proceeds to do an elaborate series of hand gestures that look more like a drunk person swatting at invisible flies than any sort of coherent communication.

Yeonghwa bursts out laughing. "What the hell was that supposed to be?"

"Ninja sign language, obviously," Yunho replies with a perfectly straight face. "Don't tell me they didn't teach you that in idol school."

Yeonghwa lets out a scoffing laugh. "I must have skipped that class," she remarks. "I was most likely occupied with perfecting my polite smile and wave, trying not to look like I'm having a fit."

"Ah, crucial life skills," Yunho nods sagely. "Well, I'd better go before I'm late. Can't have my friend thinking I've been abducted by the SOPA aliens."

As he turns to leave, Yeonghwa is hit with a pang of emotion. Is it regret? Longing? She pushes the feeling aside. "Hey, Yunho?"

Yunho stops and turns back with a dramatic flair. "Yes, Yeonghwa the Magnificent?"

She can't help but giggle at his silliness. "You're such a goofball!"

"It's part of my charm," Yunho grins. "But seriously, what's on your mind?"

Yeonghwa hesitates, fidgeting with the strap of her bag. "I just wanted to say thank you. You’ve treated me like a normal person instead of some alien life form or a walking photo op."

"I can see you,” Yunho's face softens into a genuine smile. “…for you! No one else.” Yeonghwa feels her stomach flip lightly at his words, “Beside, I’m pretty sure you’re way too short to be an alien!” and a cheeky grin emerges

"Excuse me?" Yeonghwa gasps in mock offence. "I'll have you know I'm perfectly average height."

"For a hobbit, maybe," Yunho teases.

"Oh, that's rich coming from you, Godzilla," Yeonghwa retorts, surprising herself with how easy this banter feels.

Yunho clutches his chest dramatically. "Ouch! Wounded by the tiny terror!"

"Keep it up and I'll aim lower next time," Yeonghwa threatens, but there's no heat in it.

"Noted," Yunho chuckles. “I’ll see you back in class after lunch and I’ll bring you a little something too!” With a final wave, he disappears down the hallway, leaving Yeonghwa with an unfamiliar feeling of warmth in her chest. She shook her head, trying to clear it. She had homework to do, after all. No time for... whatever this was.

But as she made her way to the library, she couldn't help wonder what it might be like to have a friend like Yunho. Someone who saw her as Kim Yeonghwa, not Aria from Moonlight. Someone who made her laugh instead of want to disappear.

She sighs, pushing the thought away. It was a nice fantasy, but that's all it was. Fantasy. Reality was school, homework, diets, gruelling rehearsals, performing and the constant pressure to be perfect 24/7. That was her world, and no amount of ninja sign language was going to change that.

Right?

But… for the first time in months, Yeonghwa felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she had found a friend in this sea of isolation.

⭑2020⭑

Yeonghwa quickly scans the audience and her fellow idols sitting beside her. The award show is in full swing now, with some awards already handed out and performances from various bands. Moonlight is scheduled to perform second to last, so she and her four bandmates - Jinni, Areum, Misty, and their leader Haneul - have some time to enjoy the show before preparing for their performance. She notices numerous fans filming with their phones focused on her and her fellow idols. Making sure to acknowledge as many as she can, Yeonghwa waves at the cameras, particularly those with her name or the group's name on banners.

She turns her head to the right and locks eyes with someone. Her gaze immediately drops, avoiding those all-too-familiar big brown eyes that have been making her heart flutter since she first saw them four years ago - Yunho.

She knew he would be here with his band Ateez; it was announced weeks ago when the lineup was revealed. But she never expected to end up sitting next to him with only Hongjoong and Haneul between them.

It had been 4 years since that day in the school hallway, when they shared ninja sign language and laughter that brightened her world. But so much had changed since then. They both graduated, Yunho debuted with Ateez, and their careers took them in different directions. What followed that first day was a beautiful friendship that blossomed into something deeper - but now, Yeonghwa is to blame for the fact that there is nothing left between them.

Nearly 2 years has passed since the last time she saw him face to face, the last time she ever spoke to him and it was bad. She said hurtful things, trying to push him away and protect him as he prepared for his debut. Though they never officially labelled themselves as a couple, their feelings for each other were undeniable. Walking away from him was one of the most difficult choices Yeonghwa ever made, but deep down she knew it was for the best for both of them

She can't resist stealing another glance at him. He's focused on the stage now, but when Seonghwa leans over and whispers something in his ear, he bursts out laughing. He looks even more handsome than before, with his boyish features now fully matured into those of a man. Yeonghwa liked how their stylist had picked each of their outfits, but Yunhos was perfect for him. They all looked so much more grown up since the last time she saw them all face to face.

A tap on her shoulder startles her from her thoughts. It's Misty, her best friend in the group. "Your staring is going to be trending on SNS if you don’t stop," she whispers with a smirk.

Yeonghwa feels her face heat up. "I wasn't staring."

Misty rolls her eyes. "Just like you weren't staring at MAMA, or KBS Song Festival, or-"

"I get it," Yeonghwa hisses, sinking lower in her seat. “It is just weird being THIS close to him. At least at the other award shows he was sat at the opposite side, far away from me!”

Misty was well aware of the past between Yunho and Yeonghwa; after all, it was Misty who had Yeonghwa had confided in her about it all at the time. She could only imagine how difficult this must have been for Yeonghwa.

Misty's expression softens. "Have you ever thought about talking to him? Clearing the air? I think if he knew the real reason you did what you did, he would understand."

Yeonghwa shakes her head firmly. "No, that's out of the question. It's been two years, Misty. He's probably moved on by now. And after what I said to him, I'm sure he hates me. As he should."

"You don't know that," Misty argues gently. "Maybe he-"

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, ATEEZ!"

The announcement cuts through their conversation, and Yeonghwa's head snaps up. She watches, heart pounding, as Yunho and his group take the stage. Their performance is electric, full of the passion and energy that has made them one of the hottest new groups in K-pop. But Yeonghwa can't take her eyes off Yunho.

In high school, she had always been impressed by his innate dancing skills. He had taught her so much about it back then, but now he moves with a newfound confidence and fluidity that leaves her speechless. His voice, deeper and more mature than it was in their school days, sends tingles down her spine. For a fleeting moment, their gazes lock across the bustling venue, and Yeonghwa is completely captivated, unable to catch her breath.

The performance ends, and ATEEZ heads back to their seats. Yeonghwa avoids looking at Yunho as he walks by, but she can sense his presence like a magnetic force. Memories of their time together flood her mind - the laughter, the secret moments, the way he made her feel alive and real beyond her stage persona - it all rushes back with intense clarity, as if it just happened yesterday.

She remembers the last day she ever spoke to him, the way his face crumpled when she told him she didn't love him. It was the biggest lie she'd ever told, but she convinced herself it was for the best. They had just graduated from SOPA by weeks, Moonlight were about to embark on another world tour, one that would take her away from Korea for 4 months, he was deep into preparations for his debut which included a trip to LA to do in depth training in dance and vocals, and she couldn't bear the thought of holding him back or being a scandal that could ruin his career before it even began.

So she walked away, ignoring the shattering of her own heart with each step. She threw herself into her work, into being the perfect idol, the perfect Aria. But late at night, when the stage lights dimmed and the screams of the fans faded, she allowed herself to remember. To miss him.

Now, standing face to face with him again, it's like a wound she thought had healed has been torn open once more. His voice echoes in her mind from that fateful day, loud and clear over the blaring music in the arena.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"Yeonghwa, please. I love you!"

"I don't love you. So just leave me alone." With those words, Yeonghwa turns and walks out of Yunho's dorm room, startled when she sees Mingi's cold stare from the hallway. He had overheard their conversation.

“When did you become such a cold heartless bitch?” he asks

Yeonghwa takes a deep breath, his words cutting her deep but she knows she deserves him for the hurt she’s just inflicted on his best friend.

“Maybe it is who I’ve always been.” she says, she knows she needs to keep up the cold facade with Mingi too to make sure none of them come to her again

“I warned him not to trust an idol when he told me about you. Told him they were mostly selfish and out for themselves but he insisted you were different,” Mingi says, walking closer to her. “Then I met you and thought the same. You seemed genuine - funny, kind, and genuinely cared for him. Well, it turns out you were just a gifted manipulator. You fooled all of us.”

Yeonghwa remains silent, her heart heavy with guilty and regret. Mingi’s words sting, but she knows she can’t defend herself right now. She needs to let him believe the words he is saying about her.

"It's probably best if you leave now," Hongjoong's harsh voice comes from behind Mingi as the sound of Yunho's sobs grows louder.

Yeonghwa grabs her bag and walks out their dorm. Her heart shattering into a million pieces with every step.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Yeonghwa glances over at him, and catches him laughing with his other members. She starts to look away, but then their eyes meet and she sees the warmth and familiarity that was once there years ago. Everything seems to blur out around the both of them, they may as well be the only two people in this large arena as they look at one another.

But then reality hits her - they are not alone. Yeonghwa snaps out of her daze, remembering that they are surrounded by thousands of fans and cameras that could capture this moment. As she looks away, Yunho gives her a subtle nod and slight smile, causing her heart to race with emotion.

Yunho tries to suppress a wide smile as she looks away shyly from him, the same way she always did when he made her flustered. Even after all this time, the words that had been said, the heartbreak he endured in the aftermath - he can still see her.

[hayhenna]

"A breath apart" 💔🩵

_a shanks x buggy fic_

-----

It was a quiet night aboard Shanks’ ship, the kind of night where the sea was calm, but the tension between two pirates wasn’t. Buggy sat perched on a crate, twirling a dagger in his hand, while Shanks leaned against the mast, nursing a mug of ale. The silence between them felt fragile, as though a single word could shatter it.

“So,” Shanks began, voice casual but his eyes sharp. “Impel Down. That couldn’t have been easy.”

Buggy scoffed, tossing the dagger into the air and catching it effortlessly. “Oh, yeah, a prison full of sea stone and lunatics? A walk in the park.” He rolled his eyes but avoided Shanks’ gaze.

Shanks frowned, stepping closer. “Did they hurt you?”

The sudden softness in his tone made Buggy flinch. He hated that concern. It made him feel seen in ways he wasn’t ready to handle. “What’s with the interrogation? I got out, didn’t I? No thanks to you, by the way,” Buggy snapped, trying to deflect.

Shanks sighed. “Buggy, I mean it. I want to know if you were okay. Did anyone—”

“Relax, lover boy,” Buggy interrupted with a smirk, his walls shooting back up. “I had good ol’ Mr. 3 by my side. You know, that guy’s not bad. He was there for me the whole time. Clever, resourceful, loyal—”

Shanks’ grip on his mug tightened. “Mr. 3,” he repeated, his tone hardening.

“Yeah!” Buggy leaned in, his grin wicked. He knew exactly what buttons to push. “We made a great team. If it wasn’t for him, I might still be rotting in that place.”

Shanks set his mug down with a loud *clunk.* “If I’d been there, I wouldn’t have let you rot in the first place.”

“Oh, really?” Buggy laughed, but it was hollow. “Well, you weren’t there, were you? Mr. 3 was. He fought for me, stood by me—”

Before Buggy could finish, Shanks crossed the space between them in two strides, grabbing him by the collar and pinning him against the mast. His single hand was strong enough to keep Buggy firmly in place, their faces inches apart.

“If I had been there,” Shanks growled, his voice low and dangerous, “I would’ve torn that place apart. No one would’ve dared lay a finger on you. Not to *you* bugs.”

Buggy’s smirk faltered, his eyes widening for just a moment before narrowing again. He pushed back, but Shanks held firm.

“Well, guess what?” Buggy snapped, his voice sharp, but there was a tremor in it. “You *weren’t* there. I got out without your help. I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now.”

Shanks released him abruptly, stepping back like Buggy’s words had physically struck him. The red-haired captain’s expression softened, pain flashing in his eyes. “Buggy...” he whispered, his voice cracking just slightly.

Buggy turned away, gripping the edge of the crate he’d been sitting on. “Go ahead, say it. Say you’re sorry. Say you wish you could’ve been there. But it won’t change anything.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Buggy’s words pressing down on both of them. Shanks stared at his old friend, at the cracks in the bravado Buggy tried so hard to maintain.

“I just... I wish things were different,” Shanks finally said, his voice barely audible.

Buggy didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. The look on his face said it all. He wished things were different too. But wishing wasn’t enough.

Shanks took a shaky breath, his hand trembling at his side as he gazed at Buggy’s turned back. He couldn’t let it end like this—not with the hurt lingering between them, choking the air.

“Buggy,” Shanks said softly, stepping closer. Buggy didn’t turn, his fingers gripping the edge of the crate so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Shanks’ voice dropped, filled with something raw and vulnerable. “I’ve missed you. More than I can say.”

Buggy let out a bitter laugh, his head lowering. “Missed me, huh? That’s rich coming from the guy who didn’t even look for me. Just out there sailing the seas, drinking, laughing, living the dream.”

“I didn’t know,” Shanks whispered, his voice pained. He reached out, hesitating before resting his hand lightly on Buggy’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you needed me. But I’m here now.”

Buggy finally turned, his face a storm of emotions—anger, hurt, and something deeper he couldn’t quite hide. “Here now? What do you want me to do with that, Shanks? Applaud you? Forgive you?”

Shanks didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned in, his free hand brushing gently against Buggy’s cheek, tilting his face up. Buggy’s breath hitched, his wide eyes locking onto Shanks’ as their faces drew closer.

“Don’t,” Buggy warned, his voice trembling, but he didn’t pull away.

Shanks didn’t stop. Their foreheads touched, and he closed his eyes, his lips hovering just a breath away. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “For everything.”

Buggy stood frozen, his heart pounding against his ribs as Shanks pressed closer. He could feel the warmth of Shanks’ breath on his lips, the weight of years of unspoken words between them.

But when Shanks’ lips finally brushed against his, Buggy didn’t respond. He didn’t push him away, but he didn’t move closer either. He just... stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

When Shanks pulled back, his heart shattered at the sight of Buggy’s face. The clown’s lips trembled, his expression twisted with a mix of pain and anger.

“You don’t get to do that,” Buggy said, his voice breaking. “You don’t get to come back into my life and act like you care. Not after everything.”

Shanks took a step back, his single hand falling to his side. His chest ached, his heart heavy as he whispered, “I’ve always cared, Buggy.”

Buggy’s voice was bitter, cutting through the silence like a blade. “Well, maybe you should’ve shown it sooner.”

The two pirates stood there, staring at each other, their hearts in pieces on the floor between them. Neither spoke again, the weight of their shared history and their unspoken feelings too much to bear.

And as Buggy turned away, Shanks could only watch, his chest hollow, knowing he’d lost him all over again.

-----

End 💔

[frick-en]

With a Tender Kiss, I'll Love You Always

Well golly. I haven't written fanfiction in ages. Anyway, I'm obsessed with Justin Herbert and in a soft mood, so I want to write something that'll give you a cavity or two.

It's not that good, but I needed to write this. For some reason.

Enjoy!

P.S. I didn't read over this. It is as I have written it.

The knocking on the door continues as you struggle to lift yourself off your bed with crutches. Grumbling to yourself, you finally find balance. Or at least as much balance as you can for someone with one functioning leg.

You hobble to your front door and check the peep hole. You only see the torso of your vertically gifted friend and the cause of your current misfortune.

Convincing you to go skiing for the first time ever was something no one else could do, but Justin Herbert made a compelling argument. And by that, he really just told you that he really wanted you to go skiing with him. You know you shouldn't turn into such a following, babbling, love-stricken idiot around him, but you couldn't turn that part of your brain off when he was around.

You unlock the door and hobble back as you swing it open. Justin reaches out to catch you as you start to lose balance again. He's very good at doing that.

"You ok?" He asks you. You only nod in response, feeling another shooting pain stream through your leg all the way up to your hip.

You and Justin make your ways to the couch. Justin grabs your hand and helps you sit more comfortably, setting your crutches against the side table. A lot easier to do than throw them in floor, which usually ends up happening when you try to prop them up somewhere.

"I can still get you a scooter, you know." Justin offers.

"I'd rather you get me a surgeon who will fix me up today," You grumble.

Justin sits beside you and smiles at you. That's all he really had to do to get you to smile back at him. But you can see it in his eyes that he's beating himself up. He feels more guilty over this than anything he's done in his life.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to say sorry enough times for this."

"Justin, stop. I'm not mad at you," You reassure him, but you know he won't feel any better about this.

"You still have to wait another week till surgery, right?" He asks.

"Unfortunately."

"What do you need me to do until then?"

There was one thing about this whole ordeal that has made it even more difficult to get over. And it's the fact that you haven't been able to shower. It's too dangerous. You've been told to take sponge baths until after surgery. It's kinda ridiculous sometimes, but that's healthcare for you.

"It's kinda weird," You begin.

"Whatever it is. I'll do it."

"I need help," You struggle to say what you need to say. Justin is a good friend of yours, and while you harbor potentially unrequited feelings for him, you don't want to make him uncomfortable. Justin is such a good friend to you. He's the whole reason why you've been able to come out of your shell and actually enjoy a lot of life's fun little quirks. That was until you trip over a larger than expected rock while skiing down a mountain of hard snow.

Justin was the first person by your side. He carried you out of the line of other skiers and stayed with you at the hospital.

"Are you gonna say it? Or do I need to guess?" Justin asks.

"Sorry. I," You sigh. "Please don't get weird about this."

"Then tell me," He responds, poking your arm playfully. This gesture allows you to realize just how close he is sitting to you.

"I really need to shower. But they told me not to because I could get hurt, and because I don't have a bathtub, I can't sit in a bath either. I can only take sponge baths until after the surgery. I just feel really gross, and I think if I smelled less like vanilla ass, then I'll feel better."

"You want me to give you a sponge bath?" He asks.

"I just need help with one. I'm not gonna make you do everything," You explain.

You tell Justin that you need a bowl of soapy water, preferably warm along with your sponge and a towel or two.

"Is that all?" Justin asks.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" You asks him noticing the slight pink tinge to his cheeks. Dimples on full display as he shakes his head.

"Thank you, Justin."

"You need me to stay here while you get cleaned up? I mean, in a different room."

"Sure. I might need your help," You respond. Justin nods and starts to walk away before you call him again, "Justin? Would you mind bringing me a clean shirt? I'm ashamed to say how long it's been since I've changed."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be right back," Justin responds. He walks back to your room and doesn't take long to bring back a familiar t-shirt. A green one with a big yellow "O" painted on it.

"I didn't know you had this," He says. "I've been looking for it honestly."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't bring myself to give it back."

Justin tosses you the shirt. He stands there waiting for you to give him your dirty clothes.

"Uhh... Sorry, I- Would you mind? Turning around?" You ask him.

"Oh! Sorry. I wasn't thinking," Justin turns around and holds his hand out for the shirt. You quickly switch t-shirts, deciding to wait until he leaves the room to take the shirt back off.

After taking your time to wash every crevice you could reach, you finally reach the most difficult part of this process. Your feet. You pull the leg of you sweatpants up and try to reach your sponge over to your feet. You feel that stinging, shooting pain again. And you're trying to clean your good foot. The splint on your other leg makes it surprisingly difficult in the position you're in to move your good leg.

You groan in pain and sit back on the couch. Taking a deep breath until the pain subsides. You sit back up and try to reach again with no luck.

You sigh. "Justin! You can come back in here now!"

Justin awkwardly enters the living room and sees you struggle to get your feet.

"You ok?" He asks. "You need help?"

"I'm sorry," You respond.

Justin walks over to the couch and crouches down in front of you. He puts the bowl of lukewarm water in the floor over a towel. He gently grabs your leg and adjusts so that you can be in a more comfortable position.

"That alright?' He asks, looking up at you. Eyes sparkling.

You feel like you swallowed a frog with the way he's looking at you. You nod. Justin holds your foot as he takes your sponge and gently scrubs.

"Is that warm enough?" He asks. So attentive to you.

"Yeah," You say with a raspy breath. Justin uses the towel to dry your foot off. He looks up at you again and smiles.

Not being able to stop yourself from talking, you say, "This is officially the weirdest thing I've ever done with a friend."

"Yeah." Justin says quietly as he moves to the more sensitive leg. He gently pulls the leg of your sweatpants up, gently grabbing your foot and even more gently scrubbing the foot. He notices the deep purples and reds that reach your calf. Those same colors that is causing the delay in your surgery.

"You good?" You ask him, being the worried one for a change.

"I just can't believe this happened to you. It's all my fault," He says.

"Justin."

"No. I'm the one who convinced you to go skiing when you said repeatedly you didn't want to."

"Justin. If I didn't want to go skiing then I wouldn't. I only went because it was you," You explain. Not even thinking. The things that a fresh sponge bath makes a girl do.

"Yeah. Cause I'm your friend," He says, going quiet again.

"Because I like spending time with you. I love spending time with you. And I'll do whatever you want so that I can keep spending time with you."

"What?"

"I'll do whatever you want so that I can keep spending time with you."

Justin looks up at you again. He stands on his knees to get a little closer to you.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're smart enough to figure it out yourself, Herbert."

"Please, tell me."

"Don't make me say it."

Justin moves so that he's a mere centimeter from your face. Your lips just barely touch before you stop and pull him in for a hug. Justin doesn't think. He just hugs you back and savors the moment.

"I would let you kiss me, but I have shit breath right now too. I want my first kiss with you to be perfect."

"I don't care how smelly you think your breath is. But if you want to wait. I'm fine with that. I'm just glad we can finally be subtly honest with each other," Justin admits. You nod along in agreement before Justin touches a tender kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes and breathe him in. Afraid that he'll evaporate into thin air if you don't savor this moment yourself.

"I'll love you always, you know."

_____

That's all folks. I didn't really know how to end the story. But it's been a long time since I've written so please give me you most constructive criticisms please.

[tiredandoptimistic]

Wait now I’m so curious on why you don’t like the Sebastian demon blood plot line !!

I mostly find it frustrating because of how it intersects with the overall themes of TMI.

Jace spends a lot of the early TMI books being treated as though he's some sort of villain because he's Valentine's son. Even Maryse, his adoptive mother, basically throws him out because the memory of Valentine is more powerful than the seven years she's raised Jace for. (She of course comes around by the end of COA, but that initial reaction was still there, and it still hurt Jace deeply!) Valentine himself did everything in his power to increase this feeling in Jace, and tried to position himself as the only one who could possibly understand and love Jace, while also setting Jace up to see himself as a monster because of his attraction to Clary. (There's literally a scene in COA where Luke says that Jace visiting Valentine is proof that the rest of them failed, because Jace clearly feels that the closest thing he's got to an understanding parent is the genocidal maniac). All of this is compounded when Jace learns that Valentine treated his son with demon blood, because suddenly he's got this proof that he's tainted not only by Valentine but by Hell itself. I haven't read COG in a little while, but I remember there being a scene where Jace and Clary make out, but Clary realizes that indulging in the incestuous relationship is basically Jace's way of punishing himself. Being into his sister is just a natural extension of being part demon, and if he allows himself to embrace his worst instincts then he won't have to worry about trying to be good anymore.

And then of course, we learn about Sebastian.

Jace was never the baby with the demon blood, that was Sebastian. Jace gets to learn that not only is he unrelated to Valentine and Clary, he's also got angel blood in his veins. Suddenly he doesn't need to worry about his girlfriend being his sister, and he's safe from the inherent evil that he thinks must come along with demonic contact.

While I do find Jace's internal angst and the ways in which he responds to be very interesting, the thing that bothers me is that rather than accepting that it's not his blood that defines him, he learns that he got good blood instead of evil blood. Sebastian on the other hand did get the evil blood, and so he is inherently evil. The story could have been about how the way that you treat a kid does more to determine their behavior than the way they were born, but instead it seems to reinforce Jace (and everyone else's) initial assumption that whoever has demon blood must be cruel and unfeeling.

Now, I know that a lot of people will claim that Sebastian wasn't inherently evil because of the demon blood, and that it was Valentine treating him as a demon that caused him to turn out that way; but that's just not how I remember it being treated in canon. Again, I haven't read the relevant books in a couple years, but I'm pretty sure that Sebastian is said to be the way he is specifically because of the demon blood. Jocelyn held him in her arms after giving birth, and saw something evil brewing in the eyes of her newborn. That scene could have meant that Jocelyn saw how Sebastian resembled Valentine and reacted in horror because of her feelings towards her husband, but I don't think that's how it was intended by the author. I also remember specifically that "True" Jonathan Morgenstern is treated as a different character in several instances (such as having his own flower card), and this "True" version of Sebastian has green eyes like Jocelyn and Clary and also isn't a terrible person, because he's not influenced by demon blood.

So basically, what I'm saying is that the demon blood storyline bothers me because it takes agency away from the characters. Sebastian is evil because he has demon blood. Jace thought he might be evil because he might have demon blood, but he doesn't have demon blood so he's not evil. It all seems to go against the main thesis of TMI, which is that children are not defined by their parents (and are in fact very capable of rejecting the bigotry their parents believe in). Everyone in the TMI gang is treated as a foil to their parents, and because we know that their parents bought into bigotry at a young age, we know that the kids could very well make the same mistakes. It's all about free will, and how they learn from history to do better in the future (Robert, Maryse, Luke, and Jocelyn all became far better people in middle age than they ever were as teenagers, but because Alec, Isabelle, and Clary have them as examples, they don't have that dark era at all. Stephen died before he could change though, and Valentine lived to prove that he didn't want to change. This puts Jace in a far more complicated position, which is why he clung to the Lightwoods as his true family to guide him towards the person he wants to be). That's a side tangent but I typed it out so I guess it's staying.

Anyways, yeah. I think Sebastian is one of the least interesting villains in TSC, because he isn't given the free will to choose villainy. (This is also why I'm less interested in demonic villains like Belial and Asmodeus). I still do enjoy how he acts as a foil to both Clary and Jace though.

[littlest-bugz]

Does anyone else go thru phases where you don’t want to talk to anyone?

Like,,, I love you so much, but I just need to RECOUP. I need my alone time so I don’t have another breakdown.