#love making friends. hate reaching out first

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe being all stressed at work and all he wants is come pick his sweet girl from her girl brunch and go home and cuddle? (Love ur work and than u baby)

this is so cute :< i can see it so clearly

first req yippee thank u my love <3

cw: it’s sickly sweet fluff, maybe a tad suggestive, reader described as shorter than rafe, use of “princess” “angel” “wife”, some manhandling

rafe had a headache, what from? it was unclear, maybe dealing with stakeholders and being in meetings all day or just simply having to come in on a day which would be a day off for anyone else. the joys of being a ceo. he couldn’t even think straight at a certain point, telling his father’s assistant, now his, to push all his meetings to monday. the overseas partners be damned, he needed to see his girl. you were the only one who could make him feel better, the only one allowed to see how much it was getting to him

he called you on his way out, you felt the phone ring in your purse, resting next to your lap on the booth you and your friends were piled into. brunch was starting to become a tradition after rafe kept going into the office on saturday mornings, you hated how empty the house felt so instead you hung out with your friends. you didn’t expect him to be free till 12 pm but now he was calling. your friends groaned as you hopped out of the booth, skipping slightly to answer the phone. “so whipped.” kie resounded behind your back and you wouldn’t even refute it.

your voice was sickeningly sweet when you answered, knowing your rafe was probably stressed or tired and was taking his few minutes between meetings to call you. “hi baby.”

“hey princess, you still out?” his voice sounded strained, you frowned at the tone, you could tell he was tired.

“uh huh, everything okay rafey?” he sighs at your words, you’re so endlessly adoring and doting, he should just wife you up. a big diamond ring would look so nice on your fingers, you’d be mrs. rafe cameron, god he wished you were next to him.

“‘missed you, can i pick you up angel?” you perked up at his words, already moving back to your table so you could pick up your bag.

“you’re off work?” there was a slight waver in your voice, you didn’t want him to go back after what you assumed was a short hour break.

“i’m taking it off, just wanna lie in bed with you.” that was all you needed to hear, telling him you’ll text him your location and hanging up with a sweet, “see you soon rafe.”

your friends groaned as you informed them you’d be leaving early, telling them you’d venmo them the split. the next ten minutes felt like hours as you anxiously awaited your boyfriend’s arrival. when he was finally outside you practically ran out of the restaurant, your friends giggling at you.

rafe was waiting outside his car door, watching you walk over, you looked so pretty in the morning all warm and cuddled up in bed. now you were in a sundress and sandals looking like a dream, you giggled when he looked you up and down with zero subtlety, skipping into his arms. he caught your weight, huffing a laugh at the impact. “pretty.” he murmured into your ear and you pressed a kiss to his collarbone, not quite reaching his face even in your heels. it was strange how his headache had vanished as soon as you were in his arms, was it your scent, your touch, your pretty voice? he didn’t know and he didn’t care, all he needed to know was that you fixed everything. he really needed to hack into your pinterest somehow and look at the wedding board he just knew you had.

you made it home pretty quickly, rafe ditched his dress shirt and pants, you kicked off your sandals, took of your bra, and practically jumped into bed. his arms wrapped around you, hating how distant you were on the other side of the bed, and pulled you against him. you turned in his hold, looking at your beautiful boyfriend, pressing your hand to his face, there was still a furrow to his brow. “you okay rafey?”

“i am now.” he kissed the palm of your hand tugging you closer if it was even possible. you were squished against him and even still it wasn’t enough, unsatisfied, rafe turned onto his back pulling your body to lay flat on his. you gasped at the action, bringing your hands to rest on either side of his head against the mattress. “that’s better.” the weight of you on top of him was comforting, now he could feel all of you without worry that you’d move out of his grasp. rafe didn’t know why he felt so erratic but he felt in control, he had you and you weren’t going anywhere. you watched him relax, propping your chin onto his chest just so you could look up at him. his eyelashes fluttered closed as you stroked his cheek, the soothing motion of your fingers lulling him to sleep, it wasn’t long after that you fell asleep with your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. when you woke up you felt hot and sweaty, sighing at the clammy feeling of rafe’s arms circling your back. he was holding you against him as if you would go anywhere. you tried wiggling out of his hold but were unsuccessful, waking him in the process

“baby stop moving,” his gravelly voice halted your ministrations and you huffed against his chest, both annoyed and impressed by how firm his pecs were.

“rafe we can’t sleep all day, we’ll be up all night.” you murmured, he hummed at your words, a deep rumble that shook you against him.

“that was my plan anyways.” you groaned at his teasing words, belatedly realizing you shouldn’t have said that in the first place.

“at least let me-” you squirmed in his hold again, this time he let you move and you lay by his side instead, his arms still loosely around you. “hey big boy, i’m not going anywhere, ease up.” you teased, poking his biceps as he kept them around you. the nickname was enough for him to be momentarily stunned, easing his grip and you giggled at his reaction. sea blue eyes widened at your words and you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. a groaned slipped past his lips, opting to instead stuff his head between your breasts so he could at least be close to you this way. you giggled at his actions, watching how he scooted down the length of the bed so his head could rest against you. you scraped your nails against his scalp, hands naturally finding their way back to him. rafe sighed into you, so grateful he could lie on his favorite pillows, hear your quickening heartbeat, smell your perfume and distinct scent. he’d bottle it up if he could. you let him rest there a while longer, massaging the taunt muscles of his back and shoulders.

rafe would much rather spend every day like this with you, cuddled up and limbs tangled so thoroughly he doesn’t know where he ends and you begin.

since im a demon and evil i was having alternative thoughts like what if rafe came home and just wanted to smoke a blunt and do other things or what if he just needs to take his stress out in other ways okay goodbye this way too long already i just loved the prompt sm!

[scented-morker]

Remember?

Shoutout to kiki for requesting from my Romance Untold event!! I love you mootie, I hope you like this!! exes to ?, Jake x fem!reader, 990 words, fluff.

Your friendgroup decideds to celebrate Valentine’s Day together. The only problem? You’re friends with your ex. And he doesn’t know how to act like he’s not in love with you.

Being friends with your ex was no big deal, really.

A small part of you liked to think it was the pinky promise you'd forced Jake to agree to the minute he asked you out romantically. "No matter what happens, we stay friends."

However, another, more honest part of you knew that even after a break up, Jake was just not the kind of person you could stay away from.

Which is how you ended up in this situation in the first place, a tray of heart shaped cookies in one hand, and a gift bag dangling from your fingers.

Spending Valentines Day with your friends was a much better option than spending it on the couch with a tub of ice cream mourning your newfound singleness. Now you just have to make it through a couple hours without accidentally falling back in love with Jake, no biggie.

"Yn!!" Sunoo cheers as soon as you enter the apartment, taking the tray out of your hands so you can shrug off your coat.

“About time you got here,” Sakura calls from the dining room.

A familiar voice comes next, and you hate the way your heart still reacts to it.

“You’d think after all these years you’d know yn is gonna show up fifteen minutes after what you tell her.”

You cross the threshold after kicking your shoes off, and snatch a throw pillow off Jays couch to toss at Jake.

“Easy girl,” he laughs, snatching it out of the air before it hits square in his face.

You roll your eyes and head through the living room towards the dining room where Sunoo has now set your cookies on the table with the rest of the treats your friends brought.

You greet Chaewon with a hug while she tells you about her work shift that morning.

Jay calls out for help setting the table, and the next thing you know the six of you are sat around the dining table, dishes littering the space in front of you.

A pan with steaks is being passed around, and you stare at them when it gets to you. It makes sense that Jay chose the fancy meat for the occasion, and you felt bad about how picky you were, knowing you probably wouldn’t eat most of it after cutting.

“That one’s for you,” Jake supplies helpfully from his seat next to you, picking up the tongs to grab one of the peices from the side and putting it on your plate.

He makes no further comment as he continues passing the tray.

However, once the conversation has started back up, he slides your plate closer to his own and reaches out with his knife.

“I told Jay you liked yours well done. I know you get freaked because you’re convinced it’s bleeding when you cut into it otherwise.” He says it with an airy laugh, not a care in the world as he cuts your steak into bite sized pieces.

When he’s done, he holds a piece up to your face, letting you get a look at it, cooked exactly the way you like.

You have to restrain yourself from kissing him right then and there, the fondness in his eyes and actions sending your heart into a frenzy.

“Thank you, Jake.”

He grins at you for a moment too long, his eyes boring into yours until Jay calls his name.

When you finally drag your own away from his figure, you’re met with a teasing look on Chaewon’s face.

You give her an impolite hand gesture before happily eating the rest of your meal, ignoring the way Jake’s knee bumps into yours under the table.

Soon enough, you’re spread out on the floor of the living room with a gift bag from a randomly assigned friend in front of each of you.

Everyone starts going through their bags, yelling and showing the person next to them in excitement.

From your spot on the floor, you don’t notice Jake on the couch behind you setting his bag next to him and opting to watch as you pull on pink tissue paper.

Inside is the newly released book you needed to finish your series, your favorite scent of perfume, a box of chocolate covered strawberries, and a sunflower Lego set.

Your head immediately whips towards Jake, finding him already looking at you with the biggest smile on his face.

The legos were the exact set you helped him build after your first date, when you’d gone back to his apartment after dinner and slipped into one of his flannels while he dumped the pieces all over his bed.

You reason that a hug is reasonable considering he just got you an extremely thoughtful gift, but all thoughts of justifying it to your friends disappear as soon as Jake’s arms are around you.

You lean your head into his neck, his familiar cologne surrounding you as his hands run up and down your back.

“Thank you,” you mumble into him.

“You really thought I wouldn’t remember what you like? Please, give me a little credit.”

You let out a laugh, and Jake’s skin erupts into goosebumps at the feeling.

When you finally pull away from the hug, you get hit in the face with a ball of tissue paper, and you turn to find everyone staring at the two of you.

“Ok can you open the gift that I so carefully picked out for you now?” Jay asks, and Jake finally focuses on his own gift.

His left hand falls onto your shoulder as you sit back down on the floor in front of him, and you don’t make any attempt to move it.

When he gives Jay a hug for his gift, Sakura leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Why’d you two break up again?”

You flush red and swat at her, but as Jake’s hand returns to its spot on your shoulder you find yourself wondering the same thing.

[biblical-chronicles]

Led on

_________________________________________

where you confess to Noel who doesn't quite reciprocate at first.

(happy endin' no worries I wouldn't do that to ya lot)

_________________________________________

The worst part wasn’t that you fell in love with Noel Gallagher.

The worst part was that, deep down, you knew you shouldn’t have.

You weren’t naïve. You knew what he was like—the sharp tongue, the half-smirks, the way he moved through life like he was already three steps ahead of everyone else. But that was the thing about Noel, wasn’t it? He could make you feel like you were the only person in the world one second, then leave you wondering if you ever really knew him the next. And still, you let it happen.

He was warm when he wanted to be, his arm slung around your shoulder, his lips brushing against your temple in passing, his voice low and teasing in your ear. But then, just as easily, he could pull away—retreat back behind that smirking indifference like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn’t just looked at you with something almost real in his eyes.

And still, you let it happen.

Maybe you had been stupid.

It started slow, harmless almost. At least, that’s what you told yourself. You were just friends, weren’t you? Friends who stayed up too late talking about everything and nothing, who shared cigarettes outside venues long after everyone else had left, who could sit in comfortable silence like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Friends who touched more than friends should.

Who looked at each other too long.

Who let things slip in drunken moments that neither of you ever brought up the next morning.

He didn’t do that for just anyone.

You knew that.

And yet, there he was, always at your side, always making sure you knew you mattered to him. And it wasn’t just words, it was in the way he acted—the way he’d throw an arm around your waist without thinking, the way his fingers would graze yours just a second too long when he passed you something, the way he’d listen to you like you were saying the most interesting thing in the world.

So, of course, you fell.

And tonight, you were going to be reckless enough to tell him.

Noel sat across from you in the dim glow of the bar, half-empty glass resting against the table, fingers tapping idly against it. He looked relaxed, shoulders loose, eyes half-lidded with that lazy amusement he always wore when he was in a good mood.

You should have just left it.

Kept your mouth shut.

But it had been building for too long, pressing against your ribs like a weight you couldn’t carry anymore. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you just—said it.

"I think I’m in love with you, Noel."

The shift was immediate.

His fingers stilled against the glass. His jaw went tight, the casual ease bleeding out of him all at once. And then, slowly, he lifted his gaze to yours.

It was unreadable.

And that scared you more than anything.

The silence stretched.

And then—"Are you takin’ the piss?"

It wasn’t lighthearted. Wasn’t teasing. His voice was sharp, like the crack of ice splitting in two.

You flinched. "No, I—"

He scoffed, shaking his head as he sat back, running a hand through his hair. "Christ, I knew this’d happen. Knew you’d get ideas."

You felt your stomach drop. "Ideas?"

He exhaled harshly, gripping the bridge of his nose. "You’ve built this up in your fuckin’ head, love didn't ya?" His voice was clipped, defensive, like he was gearing up for a fight. "Jesus, I don’t—what d’you want from me?"

Your throat tightened. "I’m not asking for anything." Your voice was small, shaking. "I just—I thought maybe—"

"Well, you thought wrong."

And just like that, you broke.

It was humiliating, how quickly the tears came, burning hot down your cheeks before you could stop them. Your breath hitched, shoulders trembling, and you hated yourself for this—for letting him see you like this.

"Fucks sake, don’t—" Noel shifted, hand half-lifting off the table like he wanted to reach for you, but he stopped himself. His expression flickered—just for a second, something almost guilty breaking through.

But it didn’t matter.

Not anymore.

You shoved back your chair, the legs screeching against the floor, and stood up on shaky legs. He looked at you then, observed even, like maybe he hadn’t expected you to actually cry. But you didn’t want his pity.

Didn’t want anything from him at that moment.

You swiped at your face quickly, jaw clenched, and turned on your heel. The door slammed shut behind you with a sound that felt like the final nail in the coffin of everything you had allowed yourself to hope for. Every step away from him felt heavier than the last, each one a reminder that you were walking away from the only thing you’d ever truly wanted.

By the time you made it inside your apartment, you could hardly breathe. It was suffocating in here, but in some sick way, it was better than suffocating out there, where everything was just so fucking clear. You could feel the tears threatening to pour even before you shut the door behind you, but you didn’t have the energy to fight the lock to close them properly.

You stumbled through the dim-lit space of your apartment and collapsed against the couch, the tears coming, but this time they weren’t quiet. They came with a force that was almost violent, crashing through your chest like waves against jagged rocks.

You pulled your knees to your chest and buried your face in your hands, rocking back and forth, trying to find a way to stop it—stop this, stop the pain that was clawing at your insides.

You wanted to scream, but all you could do was sob—deep, guttural sounds that felt like they were being ripped from the depths of your soul. Every tear felt like a small betrayal, every sob an admission of just how far gone you were.

You hated yourself for it. Hated yourself for ever letting yourself feel so much, for allowing him to get under your skin, for thinking he was someone who could care. You had told yourself it was all harmless, that you could keep things casual, that it didn’t have to mean anything. But it did mean something, God, it did. And now you were paying the price for it.

What the fuck were you thinking? How could you fall for him?

It had been so easy to fall into the rhythm of him—the late nights spent talking about everything and nothing, his soft touches, his smiles that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. But none of it had been real. He had never been real with you. You had imagined it all, built something from the fragments of empty moments, hoping for something more. But now, you were nothing more than a fucking fool.

You pulled at your sides as if the pressure of it might ease the pain. You’d promised yourself, you’d sworn you’d never fall like this again. How could you let him—of all people—do this to you? How could you let yourself need him, want him in a way that left you hollow when he turned his back on you?

It hurt too much to think about it. You couldn’t even get your breath back long enough to stop crying. It felt endless.

And then you heard the faintest click of the door behind you.

You didn’t hear him at first. Not the soft, deliberate steps that followed, not the weight of his presence as he crossed the room. The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own misery, echoing through the hollow walls of your apartment.

But when you looked up, there he was. Standing in the doorway like a ghost you’d thought was long gone.

It hit you all at once. The shock of seeing him—the sight of him in this space, the last place you wanted him to be—and everything you were feeling crumbled in on itself. You could barely comprehend the fact that he was there. You were too much of a mess to understand what it even meant.

And then, in a voice that was barely more than a rasp, you whispered, "Why...?" The question cracked under the weight of your heartbreak, your hands reaching out for something, anything, to hold onto, but finding nothing. "Why would you do that? Why would you make me feel like this, like I'm nothing? You said I mattered. You said... you said I wasn’t crazy to think—"

You didn’t finish the sentence. It was too painful. Too much.

He didn’t speak at first. Just stood there, staring at you—his own face unreadable. But when you looked into his eyes, all you saw was guilt. Or maybe pity. You couldn’t tell anymore.

You couldn’t stand it. You couldn’t breathe.

"Go," you choked out. "Just leave. Go back to where you belong. You made your choice. So just leave."

A broken laugh bubbled up from your throat, a bitter sound that hurt more than you cared to admit. "Is this what you wanted? To see me like this? To see what you’ve done to me?" You were trembling now, unable to control the way your whole body was convulsing with emotion, but you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want him to see you like this, but it was already too late.

He didn’t deserve to see you like this.

"You—" you hiccuped, sobs mixing with your words, "You never... you never even cared, did you? You just led me on, and now you're here to watch me break, aren’t you?"

Noel didn’t speak, but you could feel the weight of his gaze, and it was like everything in you was being pulled toward him, no matter how much you wanted to resist. You hadn’t expected him to follow you, not this far—not into your personal space—but there he was. And the rawness in his eyes made you falter, if only for a second.

You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bring yourself to face him fully because, fuck, you didn’t want him to see how broken you were. You didn’t want him to have any more power over you than he already did. Not now. Not when everything inside of you felt so fragile.

The next thing you knew, Noel was sitting in front of you, his body so close you could almost feel the warmth of it against your skin. You flinched instinctively when he reached for you, pulling you toward him, like he couldn’t help himself. His hands found their way to your shoulders, then to your arms, and it was as if he was trying to fix everything with just that touch.

But you couldn’t let him do it.

"Don’t," you whispered, pushing him away, your hands finding his chest and shoving him back, though you didn’t have the strength you needed to make it mean anything. "Don’t do that. Don’t give me your pity, Noel. Don’t fucking come here and pretend like you care now. You don't get to make it better with a touch, with whatever this is."

He winced, his brow furrowing in pain, but you weren’t finished. You couldn’t stop. "You can’t give me this warmth, this comfort, and then walk away like it never happened. I don’t want your fucking sympathy. I don’t want any more of these 'ideas' you give me. You got what you wanted, okay? You got me, all of me, and now you’re walking away, and I—I can’t keep doing this. I can’t."

There it was. The thing you had been holding back, the pain and the frustration of it all. You felt the weight of your own words settling in your chest.

Noel’s arms came around you then, almost violently, like he couldn’t hold back anymore. He wasn’t gentle this time; he pulled you into him with all the force of someone who was finally breaking. And when he spoke, his voice cracked, each word rough and shaky.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured over and over, like a broken record. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, love. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do.”

His grip tightened, like he was afraid you might slip away from him again if he didn’t hold you close enough. He buried his face in your hair, as his breathing hitched.

The warmth of him was almost unbearable, yet it was the only thing keeping you tethered to this moment, the only thing that didn’t feel completely empty. But you pulled away, just enough to look at him. His eyes were red now, his face full of emotion, and for the first time, you saw some of the vulnerability that he never let anyone see.

“Noel…” You swallowed thickly, your voice barely a whisper. “You’re such a fucking moron.”

He flinched, the words landing harder than expected, but he didn’t pull away. He only sat there, his eyes wide with a mix of regret and something darker, something that spoke of how much he was hurting, too. He opened his mouth to respond, but he didn’t know what to say, so instead, he just let his hands drop to your arms, his fingers digging in slightly, as if trying to hold you together.

“I get it if you don’t want owt to do with me, love,” he finally said, voice low and quiet, like he was bracing for your rejection. “I’ve fucked this up. I’ve fucked us up.”

You stared at him, a pain in your chest that you couldn’t name, your throat tight with the sting of his words. But you didn’t want to hear it anymore. Not the excuses, not the apologies that were too little too late.

Instead, something inside you snapped. You couldn’t keep doing this—couldn’t keep trying to walk away from him when every part of you wanted him.

Before you could even think about it, your arms were around his neck, pulling him close, so tightly that it was almost frantic. You buried your face against his chest, feeling his heartbeat thudding in your own ears. Your hands tangled in his shirt, gripping him like you needed him to breathe.

“No,” you breathed, shaking your head into him, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you fucking dare. I—I don’t care if you’re a fucking idiot. I don’t care if you don’t know what you’re doing. But don’t you dare tell me you’re done with me. I—” You choked on the words, and everything else in the world seemed to disappear in that moment. The tears came again, so suddenly, and you pressed yourself harder against him, your sobs shaking both of you.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” you whispered through your tears. “I just—I can’t walk away from you.”

You felt him hold you tighter, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t get close enough. And when he spoke, his voice was strained yet somehow soft against your ear.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, love.” His breath was warm, his lips brushing the edge of your ear as he spoke. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I was scared, alright? I was fuckin’ scared of this, of you, of everything. I—” He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with that desperation. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I’m scared I’d fuck it all up.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your blurred vision, trying to make sense of his words, but it all was a bit too much to understand all at once in your state. You pulled him to you again, your hands on his face, cradling him like you could somehow make him stay, make him realize how much you needed him.

“Don’t be scared anymore.” you said softly, your voice barely a whisper, the words coming out broken and raw. You closed the distance, crashing your lips against his, not caring about the tears or the mess of everything around you.

He kissed you back with the same desperation, his hands shaking slightly as they cupped your face, his lips pressing into yours, as you held onto each other like lifelines.

_________________________________________

now that was quite long, hopefully didn't bore you lot to death

and to whoever wanted angst hope this satisfies ya but I'll be back on me fluff / smut posting now as that is what me heart needs after this lmao x

love ya !!

[ssweeterthanfiction]

💌 for high school boyfriend finnick

Locker Notes

Valentine’s Day Week/Isa’s Birthday Week!! 💌- send me a prompt and a character/character + reader pair and i’ll write a “love letter” that they would write!

highschool boyfriend finnick odair x reader summary: finnick leaves you a note in your locker

Students filed out into the halls as the bell rang.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you sighed tiredly as you walked out of your class.

So far, you had been having a bad week. School and life was just so stressful. And it didn't help that you hadn't had time to be with your best friend and boyfriend, Finnick.

He had been having long practices every single day. Sure he'd call you once he got home, but it didn't feel the same. You wanted to spend time with him but he was just always busy. During lunch he would be in the weight room or the lacrosse field. During the two classes you had with him, he would either be actually doing his work or sleeping.

Normally he would always be sleeping in class. Since he got home at 8pm after a five hour practice, 10pm on game days (sometimes 11 if he had an away game), you never wanted to wake him up. So you'd take notes and keep track of the work for him, but that also added onto your own stress.

You finally reached your locker, ready to switch out your morning books for your afternoon books you opened it, but then a folded piece of paper falls at your feet.

You bend over, pick it up, and open it...

My beautiful girl,

I'm writing during a workout break so sorry for any sweat smudges :(

First, I want to say I'm sorry for not being able to spend much time with you. Coach has just been really hard on us lately and I'm so sorry for not being able to hang out with you. Trust me, I hate it. I hate being away from you. I miss you so much. I miss hanging out with you in your room. I miss watching you study. I just...miss being with you

Second, I want to say that you are so incredibly amazing. I mean—I see you taking notes for me in class and keeping track of assignments, making sure I don’t fall behind. You shouldn’t have to do that. You’re already so busy and stressed, and I’m just so sorry that I’ve just been adding onto that stress. I hate that I’m adding onto it.

You mean so much to me and I haven't been showing that. You deserve everything and more. I would say you deserve the world, but you deserve more than the world.

So that's why tonight, after school, I'm all yours. No distractions. Just you and me.

We can order pizza, eat junk food and rewatch Mamma Mia a million times, or we can go out somewhere, or we can take a drive, or we can just lay in bed for the whole night.

I don't care as long as I'm with you.

As long as I get to hold you in my arms, as long as I get to kiss you, I don't care, I just want to be with you.

So once the last bell rings, I want you to meet me by my locker and we'll figure out what we'll do for the night.

Until then, I'll be counting down the minutes and seconds til I see you.

- Your favorite person in the world, Finnick.

When you finish reading the letter, you notice a little doodle he drew, a stick-figure version of himself holding a ‘I love you’ sign with a lopsided heart above his head.

You smile and hold the letter close to your chest.

You can't wait til you finally get to see Finnick later.

And you know that he can't wait either.

[reveriebae]

Roxanne

pairing(s) : Jung Wooyoung x reader

word count : 1834

summary : Wooyoung falls for a woman who only uses him for temporary escape, caught in a toxic, one-sided relationship. Despite his growing feelings, she remains detached, leaving him heartbroken each time. He craves more, but she continues to walk away, unable to return his love. Despite the pain, Wooyoung keeps letting her in, unable to break free from the cycle.

genre : smut, angst

warning(s) : Explicit sexual content, friend with benefits, emotional manipulation, one-sided love, heartbreak, toxic relationship, degradation, physical roughness.

A/N : first time writing like this, might never try it again lmao

part of Songfic

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

Wooyoung never meant to fall. He swore he wouldn’t. This was supposed to be easy—no strings, no promises, just the raw need between them burning up the nights. But somewhere between the taste of her lips and the way she whispered his name in the dark, he lost himself.

And she? She never felt the same.

For her, this was just another fix, another fleeting moment of escape. Wooyoung was warm, familiar, reliable—but never enough. Not the way he wanted to be.

He knew it the night she pulled him close, her breath hot against his ear as she moaned his name, but her eyes were empty. Detached. Like he was just another body, just another high.

And when it was over—when the heat faded and the silence crept in—she was already slipping out of his bed, reaching for her clothes like nothing had happened. Like he didn’t just give her every piece of himself.

“Where are you going?” His voice cracked, but he didn’t care.

She didn’t even look at him as she zipped up her dress. “You know how this works, Woo.”

His heart clenched. He hated that nickname now. Hated the way it felt like a leash keeping him tied to her, when all she did was walk away.

“Stay,” he whispered, desperate.

She paused, turning to face him. For a second—just a second—he thought he saw something there. But then she smiled, that same unreadable, cruel smile, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Don’t make this harder than it is,” she murmured.

And then she was gone.

Leaving Wooyoung alone, drowning in the love she never returned.

---

Wooyoung knew he was screwed the moment he started craving more.

It started subtly—small things he didn’t even notice at first. The way he’d wait for her texts like some lovesick fool, how he started canceling plans with his friends just in case she called. He told himself it was just about the sex, that he was just addicted to the way she felt beneath him, the way she sighed his name like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

But then came the nights when he’d catch himself watching her sleep, memorizing the way the moonlight kissed her bare skin. The way his fingers would trace the curve of her hip, desperate to hold onto something fleeting. The way he started to hate the way she always left before morning.

Tonight was no different.

She was standing in front of his window, cigarette between her fingers, eyes staring blankly into the city lights. Her bare back was illuminated by the neon glow, every inch of her carved into his memory like a cruel work of art.

“You don’t have to go,” he murmured from the bed, his voice thick with something he didn’t want to name.

She exhaled smoke slowly, watching it curl into the air. “You know that’s not how this works.”

Wooyoung clenched his jaw. “Then let’s change the rules.”

She turned to him then, her expression unreadable, but her lips curled into that same damn smirk she always wore when he started to crack. Like she could see right through him, see how pathetic he was for wanting her like this.

“You’re getting attached,” she mused, flicking the ash into the tray beside his desk.

He sat up, gripping the sheets. “And you’re not?”

Silence.

She tilted her head, considering, then shrugged. “I need you.”

The words should’ve made his heart race, should’ve been enough. But he knew what she meant. She needed him like a drug—something temporary, something to take the edge off. Not something to love.

His throat felt tight. “I don’t want to be something you just use.”

She walked over to him slowly, her bare legs brushing against the sheets as she climbed onto the bed, straddling his lap. Her fingers slid into his hair, tilting his head back so he had no choice but to look at her.

“But you like it,” she whispered, lips ghosting over his. “Don’t you, Wooyoung?”

His breath hitched.

God, he hated her. Hated the way she knew exactly how to break him, how to make him weak with just a touch. He should’ve pushed her away, should’ve told her to leave if she wasn’t going to give him what he wanted.

But when she kissed him—slow and teasing, her nails scratching lightly down his chest—he forgot how to say no.

Because she was right.

He liked it.

Even if it killed him.

Her lips were poison, and Wooyoung drank every drop like a fool who never learned his lesson.

The second she kissed him, his hands were on her—gripping her waist hard enough to bruise, dragging her down against him, making sure she felt how much she wrecked him. She gasped into his mouth, but it wasn’t a protest. It was a dare. A challenge.

So he took it.

He flipped her onto the bed, pinning her down with his weight, his hands already sliding between her thighs. No teasing, no waiting—just raw, consuming need. He shoved her legs apart, swallowing the little moan she gave, and for a second, he let himself believe she felt something too.

Her nails dug into his back as he pressed against her, grinding his hips in slow, punishing rolls. She was already wet for him—of course she was. She always was. But tonight, it wasn’t enough. He needed more. Needed her to break for him, needed to hear her beg like maybe, just maybe, she needed him the way he needed her.

“Say my name,” he growled against her skin, biting down on her neck hard enough to leave a mark. A reminder.

She arched under him, her breath hitching, but she didn’t say it. Instead, she smirked, her fingers threading through his hair, yanking his head back. “Getting needy, baby?”

Wooyoung saw red.

His hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her pupils dilating as she looked up at him. “Say it,” he ordered, voice low, shaking.

She licked her lips, and then, finally— “Wooyoung.”

His control snapped.

He shoved into her in one deep thrust, his name still on her tongue as she gasped, nails raking down his back. He didn’t give her time to adjust, didn’t give her a second to catch her breath—he just took. Pounding into her with a desperation that felt too much like love, chasing the high he knew would never be enough.

She met him stroke for stroke, her legs wrapping around his waist, her moans getting louder, filthier. His grip on her throat tightened, his other hand grabbing her thigh, spreading her open even wider for him. He wanted to ruin her. Wanted to make her remember this—remember him.

But deep down, he knew.

She would leave, just like she always did. And he’d let her.

“Tell me you want me,” he breathed against her lips, his pace brutal, relentless. “Tell me you need me.”

She didn’t answer at first, just gasped as he hit that spot that made her shudder beneath him. And then, finally— “I need you.”

Lies.

But they tasted so fucking sweet.

He fucked her through her release, chasing his own, his body trembling as the pleasure mixed with the ache in his chest. He came with her name on his lips, burying himself deep inside her, hoping—praying—this time, maybe she’d stay.

But when it was over, the silence was deafening.

He didn’t move, his forehead resting against hers, his breath still uneven. He was too scared to open his eyes. Too scared to see that familiar emptiness in hers.

She was the one who pulled away first.

He felt her shift beneath him, the warmth of her body slipping away as she climbed out of bed. The sound of her zipper echoed in the quiet room, each click another crack in his already shattered heart.

Wooyoung clenched his jaw. “Don’t.”

She stilled for a moment, but then— “You know how this works, Woo.”

The nickname made him flinch.

He forced himself to look at her, forced himself to take in the way she stood there, already detached, already halfway gone. She wasn’t his. She never was.

But fuck, he wanted her to be.

His fingers curled into the sheets. “I love you.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

For the first time, she hesitated. Her expression wavered, just for a second, and he thought— maybe.

But then she smiled.

Soft. Pitying.

And walked out the door.

Leaving Wooyoung in the wreckage of everything he was stupid enough to feel.

The door clicked shut, and silence swallowed the room whole.

Wooyoung stayed where he was, lying in the mess of tangled sheets and fading warmth, his body still buzzing from the aftershocks of pleasure. But the second she left, it all turned cold.

He let out a shaky breath, running a hand over his face.

I love you.

He actually said it.

The words hung heavy in the air, mocking him, repeating over and over in his head like a cruel joke. He should’ve never let them slip. Should’ve swallowed them down, buried them deep where they belonged—just like she did.

She didn’t even say anything back.

Not I love you, too. Not even I’m sorry.

Just a smile.

A fucking smile before she walked away.

Wooyoung sat up slowly, his fingers gripping his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. He could still smell her in his sheets, feel the ghost of her touch on his skin. But it was all temporary.

Just like her.

He forced himself to get up, to walk to the window where she had been standing just minutes ago. The city lights stretched out before him, bright and endless, but all he could see was her.

He imagined her slipping into someone else’s bed tomorrow night, moaning someone else’s name, letting another man touch her the way only he was supposed to.

His stomach twisted.

He should hate her. He should fucking hate her.

But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was the way she looked beneath him—cheeks flushed, lips parted, his name falling from her tongue like it meant something. Even if it never did.

His jaw clenched.

She took everything from him, and he let her. Again. And again. And again.

Wooyoung grabbed the half-finished cigarette she left in the tray, lighting it with shaking hands. The taste was bitter, foreign—but at least it burned. At least it made him feel something.

As he exhaled the smoke, he let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

She was never coming back.

And even if she did—

He’d still let her in.

No matter how much it fucking killed him.

[yoiiyoii]

In honour of the birthday of Giyuu Tomioka the best character in demon slayer (to ME), I will use my free will to rant about the best Giyuu panels in the manga:

1.

Peak. Best of the best. Magnum opus of Demon Slayer manga. This specific moment is when my emotions reach the climax every single time I read the fight.

Giyuu and Tanjirou, one arm each, holding on to one sword, focus on the Rengoku sword hilt. Tanjirou being guided once again by the two hashiras he looks up to the most.

Once again, right after this, Tanjirou pushes Giyuu back and saves his life. A full circle, the lowest of the low for Giyuu, the highest of the highs of striking Muzan together.

Notice that Giyuu unlocked the red blade TWICE, once with Sanemi, his foil among the hashiras, and now with Tanjirou, the one he cherishes the most. Giyuu - always defined by his relationships. Giyuu as an individual character in a vacuum has very little to show. It's just another backstory, a traumatized hashira, just like the other demon slayers. Giyuu stands out in Demon Slayer because he is constantly present, he has developing relationships. The red blade is just another show for that. This panel does this theme of Giyuu justice too.

And, lore aside, the absolute HYPE of this scene. The long drawn fight, the hashiras with lost limbs all down, Sanemi and Obanai come in to attack Muzan and save Tanjirou, but oh-- where's Giyuu again? RIGHT HEREEEEE!!!!!!! LENDING A HAND TO TANJIROU, LITERALLY, AS HE ALWAYS HAS.

2.

Pretty self explanatory. Absolute badass, putting himself between an Uppermoon and someone he cares about, Tanjirou.

It goes into Giyuu's biggest theme of protection. He hates being protected, he wants to protect the people he loves (just like Akaza). He did not want to be a 'useless komainu' to Tanjirou. I don't know if it's stated explicitly but its obvious that Dead Calm was created so he would be able to protect himself without needing the help of others. His fight against Rui was a simpler version of this: protecting Tanjirou (though at the time he didn't recognize him), against Rui, whose whole theme was about wanting to be protected by a family, with elders fulfilling their role of protection.

Here Giyuu and Tanjirou were, dealing with the same theme again, and Giyuu going all out with wanting Tanjirou to survive. It's not that he's been silent about his love for Tanjirou, but this is where he explicitly declares wanting to protect him, in his own words (do NOT take a shot everytime you see the word "protect").

3.

Debating between this or the 4th panel, I chose this as the 3rd because this is MY post and I want to make top 3 posts all about him and Tanjirou.

And boyyyyyy is it about him and Tanjirou. He cant even sit up. Is it not insane to see him being THIS vulnerable?? in public???? Add to the fact that he knows Tanjirou's closer friends are right there in the same battlefield, and yet it was him who couldn't help but want to stay physically close to Tanjirou. If Tanjirou's death had been true, he'd be back at square 1, being useless, never strong enough (quite a recurring theme in Demon Slayer I must say).

Like, look, he's sobbing, he cried like three times during this whole DKT and death deal. When the inevitable Sunrise Countdown movie comes out, I personally would like to close my eyes and ears during this scene.

4.

I admit this could and should have been number 3. But that aside, the coolest panel in the manga award goes to... (to be fair, that can be debated, other panels are just as cool if not cooler for sure.)

Sanemi and Giyuu, peak relationship in Demon Slayer. This moment is the climax to all of the buildup since !!Sanemi's first appearance!! (you see how Giyuu was giving him a whole lot of side eye that scene?)

In a way Sanemi and Giyuu bring out some ~interesting~ emotions in eachother. Who else would Giyuu call a simpleton? Who else would Sanemi pick a fight with, simultaneously trying to understand them? When you go to the AU territory, that's a pretty hefty magnetic pull of a relationship, isn't it?

And this moment - as I said earlier, one of the red blades Giyuu achieved, it's with Sanemi! Sanemi trusted Giyuu with equal strength (as Kanao said that was necessary for a red blade strike), and we've seen them draw before, and that's the ONLY hashira vs hashira we saw! (well, ufotable added a whole bunch, and I'm thankful for that, but I do regard Gotouge's compact and limited version of the story higher. Gotouge thought that Sanemi vs Giyuu was the most important hashira sparring for the audience out of all of them, and for obvious reasons).

All of that, AND the panel calls back to that one picture of Sabito flying over Giyuu. Two of the rough dudes Giyuu has been associated with, which is a nice touch.

And heyyy that's the sword that Sanemi threw at Giyuu!! Which was a pretty important moment right before Giyuu explicitly called himself a hashira (contrasting with Tanjirou, where he stood merely as the protector, the senior, with no regard to their posts and hierarchies). Sanemi gave Giyuu some real good push this fight. Would have loved to see them on a mission together, but alas, Demon Slayer manga is pretty limited with what it shows.

5.

I don't have much to say. It's just cute, alright? Look at him all teeny tiny smiling about the prospect of being friends with Sanemi. What the hell. Why are you so cute. Look at Tanjirou sharing the same dumbass braincell. What's up with these two

Unranked honorary mentions:

10/10. More of 21 trio stupidness, please. And look at Giyuu's stupid face as if he didn't just insult Sanemi in front of everyone. OBANAI, HE DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING TO YOU-

His crow he's so attached to :,(. I would personally die for you Kanzaburou. And yeah, absolutely, Kanzaburou mistaking Tanjirou for Giyuu. They have the same essence I guess

MURATAAAAAAA and yes, while I do love this because of the whole Murata celebrity crush on Giyuu thing and all, I love how desperate Giyuu was the entire time to save Tanjirou, even in the middle of his own fight again MUZAN HIMSELF. And who better to take care of Tanjirou than Murata, someone who took care of him back when Sabito died? Connected bonds, alright. Sabito already helped Tanjirou with his journey back in Mt. Sagiri, he could also use someone else from Giyuu's past.

Post canon, all of it. The light in his eyes, his journey, he deserves all of the love and peace.

[zeroseuniverse]

Ready To Love

Word Count: 931 Summry: She glared. "And you’re annoyingly good with them." Kun smirked. "I’m annoyingly good at a lot of things." Pairing: Kun X fem Reader

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She was not built for chaos. Her life was meticulously organized—calendars color-coded, deadlines met weeks in advance, and every meal planned down to the last calorie. Disruptions were unacceptable.

So when her best friend called her in a panic, she should have known better than to pick up.

“___, please, I swear it’s just for a week,” Her friend pleaded. The desperation in her voice was evident, but she was already shaking her head, even though she couldn’t see her.

“ I have meetings, deadlines, I can’t—”

“Nari loves you! And I have no one else. My mom’s out of town, my cousin bailed, and if I cancel this work trip, my boss will actually fire me.”

She hesitated. The thought of caring for a toddler—a whole human being—for an entire week made her stomach clench. But then she heard a soft giggle in the background, followed by Nari’s tiny voice:

“Auntie ___?”

Damn it.

She sighed. “One week. That’s it.”

Her friend exhaled in relief. “You’re a lifesaver. I owe you so much.”

Yeah, she did.

She learned very quickly that a two-year-old had no respect for schedules, efficiency, or the concept of personal space.

Nari was adorable, sure—pudgy cheeks, big eyes, and an alarming ability to wrap her around her tiny fingers—but she was also a menace. She refused to sit still, turned meal times into a war zone, and somehow managed to make her feel like the most incompetent adult in the world.

By the end of the first day, she was exhausted. Her apartment was covered in toys (which she definitely didn’t own before), her inbox was overflowing, and her neatly structured life had been completely derailed.

Then came the final straw.

She was struggling to get Nari into her stroller for a quick grocery run when she heard a low chuckle from behind.

"Need some help?"

She turned and found herself face-to-face with her neighbor—Kun.

Of course it had to be him.

Kun had always been... annoyingly perfect. The kind of guy who helped elderly neighbors carry their groceries, always remembered birthdays, and had a seemingly endless supply of patience. He was also ridiculously charming—the worst kind of person.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, trying to wrestle Nari’s arm through the stroller straps.

Kun raised an eyebrow, then knelt in front of Nari. “Hey, kiddo. You wanna help me out here?”

To her absolute betrayal, Nari grinned and reached for him immediately. Kun fastened her in the stroller in three seconds flat.

She scowled. “How—?”

He smirked. “Oldest of four. I’ve been through this before.”

Of course.

By the third day, she had no choice but to accept defeat.

After another sleepless night—Nari hated sleeping, apparently—she found herself standing outside Kun’s apartment, knocking hesitantly.

He opened the door, eyebrows raised. “Wow. You look—”

“Finish that sentence and die,” she muttered.

He grinned. “How can I help?”

She exhaled. “I need a break. Just an hour.”

Kun didn’t hesitate. “Done.”

She blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Of course,” he said easily. “I like kids.”

“You like everything.”

He laughed. “Not everything. But I do like helping you.”

She ignored the way her stomach flipped at that.

Kun took Nari to the park, giving her an hour of blissful, uninterrupted silence. When he brought her back, she was laughing—giggling—and he looked so effortlessly at ease with her that something in her chest ached.

"She’s an angel," Kun said fondly.

She stared at him like he’d lost his mind. "She’s a demon.”

He just chuckled. "You’re just bad with kids."

She glared. "And you’re annoyingly good with them."

Kun smirked. "I’m annoyingly good at a lot of things."

By now, Kun had somehow wormed his way into her daily routine. He showed up with breakfast, played with Nari when she had meetings, and made her laugh more than she had in years.

It was getting dangerous.

She wasn't looking for romance. She barely had time for herself, let alone a relationship. But Kun made it so easy.

And the worst part? She liked it.

That night, after Nari had fallen asleep, she found herself sitting beside him on her couch, both nursing cups of tea.

“I don’t get it,” she admitted. “Why are you like this?”

Kun tilted his head. “Like what?”

“Nice. Patient. Helpful. Just... good.”

He smiled softly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because life isn’t like that.”

Kun studied her for a moment. “I think you just haven’t let yourself slow down enough to see the good parts.”

She swallowed. No one had ever said something like that to her before.

And the scariest part?

She wasn't sure he was wrong.

When her friend arrived to pick up Nari, she expected to feel relieved.

Instead, her chest felt... hollow.

She handed Nari over, ruffling her hair as she clung to her one last time.

“Bye-bye, Auntie!” she giggled.

She smiled. “Bye, munchkin.”

As they left, she turned to Kun, suddenly feeling awkward. Without Nari around, there was no reason for him to keep showing up. No excuse to let him into her life.

But he lingered.

“So,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What now?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Kun’s gaze was steady. “I do.”

Her heart pounded. “Oh?”

“Dinner,” he said simply. “With me.”

Her lips parted. “With or without a toddler?”

He smirked. “Let’s start with just us.”

And for once in her life, she let the schedule go.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Kun’s smile was slow, warm, and full of something terrifyingly real.

Maybe—just maybe—this was a kind of chaos she could learn to love.

[sturnsstar]

Love you goodbye ✶ Chris Sturniolo

⋆.˚pairing: fem!reader x Chris

⋆.˚warnings: unresolved angst, smut, p in v, fingering, jerking off, breaking up, lots of crying, bullying from fans

⋆.˚requested: no

⋆.˚summary: You couldn’t take it anymore. The hate from his fans was slowly breaking you. So you decided to leave him, even though it shattered your heart. But you were selfish, needing one last night with Chris, a final memory before walking away.

⋆.˚wc: 2.5k

P.S. english is not my first language

The room was silent, save for the sobs you were desperately trying to subside. You turned your head to look at the boy beside you, his eyes were as red as yours. But it was for the best, you kept telling yourself. This was the inevitable conclusion to your - whatever it was - you had with Chris.

You just couldn’t do it anymore. The hateful comments, the constant remarks about how much of a loser you seemed compared to Chris. They left you scarred. You loved him, you really did, but this love was destroying you. You tried to push all the hate aside to be with Chris and make him happy. But it became too much. You were always insecure about yourself: your looks, your sometimes too strong personality. But with Chris, it all made sense. It all seemed right. His fans didn’t think of it that way, though. 

It all started with a few comments under your posts on Instagram, comments that made you private your account. Next, there were the DMs, some of them laughable threats, others that made your hands shake. Then, there were the edits. Pics of you with your face scribbled out, cruel captions all around. Hateful comments flooding under his posts with you. At first, you told yourself not to look, not to care. But it was everywhere.

Finally, you started to hear snickers when you walked on the streets or inside shops. You thought you were going crazy, but no. Whenever you turned around, a group of girls would pretend nothing was happening, smirks on their faces. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it, or if people were actually following you. You started to be paranoid when walking alone at night, any car passing next to you making you jolt, making you wonder if you were right.

That’s when you broke down in front of Chris. One evening, he found you in a mess of tears at his front door. You remembered his worried expression, his warm hands pulling you against him as he cradled you in his arms while you let out all your frustrations. He had felt miserable. And angry, so angry. He couldn’t understand why people hated you. They didn’t even know you! That’s what he told you, kissing your temple as you curled up against him on his bed that night, dried tears streaking your cheeks. You managed to calm down, your breathing easing as you listened to his heartbeat against your ear.

But it never stopped. Not when you deactivated your account, not even when you stopped going out if not to work. You were becoming the shell of your former self. Your friends had stopped reaching out when you wouldn’t answer them. You felt so alone, and you knew your troubles were taking a toll on Chris too. So you finally made your decision.

“It’s better this way” you whispered, hearing a sniff from the boy beside you, his hand seeking yours. He didn’t look at you, his expression hidden by his hair and his other hand on his face.

“I can fix this,” he said, shaking his head, “I can make a statement, or a video, or-” 

“Chris” you interrupted him, squeezing his hand. “I won’t let you ruin your image for this.”

He sighs, defeated. “This” he repeated, baffled. “Our relationship, you mean?” his voice is husky, slightly croaky from the tears.

“Yes,” you nodded, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing the back of it, hearing him inhale sharply.

“I’m sorry-”

“What did I do wrong?” he interrupted, finally lifting his head and turning to look at you, his expression desperate. It broke your heart to see him like that. You felt your tears start to well up once again but you gulped them down, knowing you needed to be strong for this.

“You did absolutely nothing wrong,” you said softly. “You were perfect.” you tried to smile at him.

“Were” he repeated, biting his lip, “already using the past tense” he huffed.

“Don’t make this hard” you whispered, letting go of his hand and bringing your knees up to your chest, hiding your face against them. He sighed again, and you felt the mattress you were sitting on shift, his body weight lifting from it. You opened your eyes once you felt his hands grab your calves, finding him on his knees on the ground in front of the bed.

“Please, baby” he whispered, his voice hoarse, as his hands pulled your legs down, positioning himself between them. His arms circled your waist as he rested his head against your torso. Your hands instinctively went to his hair, caressing the soft curls gently as he inhaled softly. You lifted your head and blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears as you saw just how wrecked he looked.

“Don’t you see?” you whispered as he shook his head, burying it more against your chest. “What’s the sense of being together if we both suffer like this?” you asked, tugging slightly on his curls so that he would look up at you. His expression was unreadable. 

“You’d be much better off without me,” you said finally, biting your lip as you realized how true that statement was. Chris furrowed his brows, his lips twisted in a grimace. Then, without answering you, he surged forward, making you yelp as your back hit his mattress with his momentum. He was on top of you, his eyes sought yours before he leaned down, soft lips grazing yours.

“Don’t say that again” he murmured before shutting your possible protests with a kiss. His lips were soft against yours, but you could feel how much he was holding back by the way his hands were gripping your hips to keep you in place, to make sure you were there with him. 

You broke the kiss tilting your head to the side, hearing him groan as his head bent down against your exposed neck, seeking your warmth, some possible reaction to his touch. Just something — anything — to show him you weren’t sure of your decision. His fingers trembled against your skin, desperation clear in his gaze. But he was met with silence. Chris’s voice broke as he whispered, “Please… don’t do this.”

“I have to go” you tried to push him off you, knowing you needed to put an end to this now, even if the thought alone was destroying you. He shook his head, his grip not faltering, as he whimpered against your neck. Your arms acted on their own, pulling his body impossibly closer to yours, a big contrast with your words. 

“Stay with me” he begged, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe up your neck, teeth gently biting your lobe. “You can’t just- you can’t just leave” he pleaded against your ear, hot breath making you shiver.

You knew what you were doing was wrong. You were giving him hope that you’d eventually change your mind, even though you had already made your decision. But you were selfish when it came to him. You were greedy for his attention, for his love. Still, you made one last attempt.

“I’ll– I’ll leave in the morning” you yelped when he bit down hard on your neck, his intentions clear. No more talking. You sighed as you cradled his face in your hands, your thumb gently caressing his bottom lip. He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze elsewhere, but you knew he was angry. Still, he didn’t protest when you brought his lips against yours, seeking his tongue as you opened your mouth for him. Chris grunted, breathing through his nose as his hands went down to the zip of your jeans, hastily trying to take them off.

You frowned but complied, helping him get rid of them. He was still not looking at you, his attention on his pants now, swearing loudly because he couldn’t get them off fast enough. You called him softly, but he still refused to lift his head. More tears fell from your eyes, a sob escaping your lips. His head immediately lifted, an alarmed expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gruffly, stopping his movements altogether.

“Just…” you stuttered, your hands quickly wiping away your tears. 

“I don’t want our last time to be like this” you murmured, feeling your cheeks flush. He stared at you for a moment, eyes softening. He nodded, his arms circling your waist and pulling you closer until your chest was pressed tightly against his, your back arching. 

“Sorry,” Chris mumbled, his thumb drawing circles on the bare skin of your hip. His lips left gentle kisses on your jaw. You closed your eyes, savoring your last moments together, trying to absorb all his warmth and love. Chris was so full of it, always eager and giving, never expecting anything in return. His touch, his words, they were everything you had always wished for, and everything you knew you had to walk away from.

You both took your time, each of you getting rid of the other’s clothes. First your top, then his sweatshirt, and finally your bra. His eyes took in your bare body under his, hands gently touching you like it was the first time. You squirmed under his gaze, feeling his eyes burn your skin. Your arms shoot out to pull him closer, to feel the hard planes of his chest against your gentle curves. His hips started to move against yours, agonizingly slow, making you think this was some sort of torture — one of the best kinds. 

“Chris” You mewled against his ear, panting slightly from the effort of lifting your hips to meet his, the delicious friction of his clothed tip bumping against your clit making you curl your toes in pleasure, your eyes squeezing shut. He hummed against your shoulder, his arm moving until his hand was pressed against your clothed center, agile fingers pulling your underwear aside so that his thumb could find your aching clit, circling it with practiced ease. You threw your head back, hips lifting off the bed to chase that feeling.

The pleasure was doubled once you felt his long digit slowly enter you, stretching you out in the best way possible. You lifted your head, kissing his jaw, cheeks, and nose, trying to convey how much he meant to you. How much you were hurt by the thought of leaving him. He closed his eyes at your affections, breathing through his nose, trying not to cry again. His finger inside you was soon accompanied by a second one, hitting places deep inside you that made you see stars. 

Your hand palmed him through his boxers, making him hiss at the sudden contact. You pulled the material down his legs, and he helped you kick them off somewhere in the dim lit room. You resumed your ministrations, quickly finding a rhythm you knew he liked, using the precum oozing out of his tip as lube, your languid strokes making him groan and finger you harder, trying to piston his fingers at the same speed you were jerking him off. 

But that wasn’t enough for either of you, and you both knew it. He gently eased his fingers out of your hole, and you stopped your movements too, trying to spread your legs wider to welcome him in, caressing his cheek and the little creases in his forehead, the frown softening as he locked eyes with you.

You both sighed in relief once he was inside you, his body completely still as he took you in, his right hand on your hip as his left kneaded your breast, rolling your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your breathing was ragged, the urge to feel him move too strong. You tried to lift your hips to have him deeper inside you, but he didn’t budge.

“Chris?” You asked unsure, moving his hair out of his face. He was out of his reverie then, his eyes refocusing on you, on the situation, starting to rock his hips against yours. Slowly at first, gaining speed and force with every second. You whined against his shoulder as he pressed down against you, bodies flush against one another, his hips the only thing moving steadily. You felt so connected to him in that moment, completely intertwined and safe in his embrace. It was a fleeting sensation, one that would fade as soon as this was over.

“Say you won’t leave” His voice made you stop your train of thought, whipping your head so that you were looking at him. You didn’t know what to say, so caught up in the moment you almost forgot this was a goodbye. His yearning graze searched yours as if your answer could somehow change. You felt your heart break into a million pieces, knowing whatever you said would tear both of you apart. Instead, you kissed him, hard and demanding, swallowing his groans and all his pleading words. All the things that could make you falter. All the things that could make you change your mind. He sighed but didn’t stop his punishing pace, cradling your face in his hands as he forced your eyes to meet his, not letting you escape the raw pain he was experiencing, a big contrast to the immense pleasure of being inside you. 

“I love you” You said instead, your walls squeezing his cock as your orgasm approached, your vision blurry from the pleasure. Chris grunted in response, doubling his efforts to bring you both to your peaks, determined to make this last time count. To make you remember him. But how could you ever forget?

With a shuddering cry you finally felt the knot on your belly snap, legs spasming around his waist as you came undone under him. Chris soon followed you, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, soft kisses planted on your sweaty skin as he painted your walls with his cum, marking you, making you his, one last time. 

You laid there for a moment, not breaking your intimate embrace. With a sigh, Chris slowly pulled out of you, laying down next to you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He turned on his side towards you, his arm wrapping around your middle and keeping you against him, his breath growing steady. You closed your eyes for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

His thumb drew patterns on your bare hip, lips softly kissing the top of your head as he lulled you to sleep. Neither of you moved to put your clothes back on, and you preferred it that way. Under the blankets, the light from the bedside table lamp was the only light that created shadows on his handsome face. His blue eyes flicked to your face, as if memorizing your features, the feel of you, as if holding onto you for a little longer. You couldn’t scold him for it, since you were doing the same thing. You didn’t talk, no more words left to say. Chris was hopeful – maybe you’d see reason tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep next to him, where you belonged.

But when Chris woke up the next morning, your side of the bed was cold and empty, as if you had never been there at all. 

Comments are highly appreciated! :)

[tarnishedxknight]

Elin couldn't believe how kind this woman was. She had no idea what race Mantis was, or where her and her friends had come from, and really none of them even owed her the time of day, and yet she was saying that they'd help her? That her baby would want for nothing? It was almost too much for the young maid to take in.

"Oh, thank you, miss...! You're so very kind, I... I don't know what to say..." she exclaimed through her tears. "I hate him. I wish I'd never met him. But... I don't blame the child," she said, her hand falling over her belly. "I want it to have a good life and to know that it is loved, even if it won't have a father. That is all I want, just for it to have a good life..."

Elin came out of her little meeting with Mantis actually smiling and feeling a lot better about the situation. It meant so much to hear someone say it wasn't her fault, that she wasn't loose or stupid or careless. She was wronged, just as she'd felt she'd been, and hearing someone confirm it meant everything to her.

- - - - -

Munoh would never have let anything happen to his dear friend and favorite human, Caelen, but thankfully, no threats were made against him as he traveled through Rabanastre proper and down into Lowtown. Munoh made themself invisible and inaudible to all but Caelen as they listened to him speak with his smithing mentor.

There were a number of blades for sale, and since time was an issue, ones that were already made were considered first. Fashioning a blade from scratch could take at least a day, if not two, depending on if the handle and scabbard also needed to be made along with the blade itself. Caelen didn't know how long the Guardians would remain in Rabanastre, after all.

Caelen had been thinking of either a waxy or curved blade, and one with a green leather wrap on the handle, since Mantis loved green. After looking through the available blades, however, his eyes fell on a dagger with a carved handle instead of a leather wrapped one. The semi-translucent green stone of the handle was carved with a leaf and flower design that was then inlaid with gold. "I've never noticed this one before," Caelen said to the blacksmith.

"Ah, that one. A creative project of mine from a few years ago. That's a real carved jade handle and real gold paint for the designs. Melted down a necklace to make the paint myself. A pretty looking thing, but functional too. Jade is very strong, and that blade's as good to be used as any. Took me a good many hours to make, but I think it's a respectable blade," the older man replied.

"Indeed, it is. It's beautiful. Green and gold... Dalmasca's colors." Caelen said with a smile.

"Aye," the man said with a proud nod.

He was in luck, it seemed, for even the dagger's scabbard, complete with a loop at the back to wear on a belt, was made of green dyed leather, no doubt to match the color of the handle of the unusual blade. "I think this will be perfect." He reached into his pockets for gil with which to pay for it, but the blacksmith waved away Caelen's money.

"Keep up with your training, lad. Put in the hours, and craft me something to replace it," the man proposed.

Caelen grinned happily. "Very well, it is a deal. Thank you." Making his way back to the royal palace, he placed the dagger in his quarters. He couldn't very well give it to her with Prince Rasler and Princess Wynna standing right there at the dinner, that would seem inappropriate, and so he assumed that he would retrieve it for Mantis afterward.

- - - - -

When the Guardians arrived in the throne room, King Raminas, Prince Rasler, Princess Wynna, Princess Ashelia, Prince Caelen, and Captain Basch were already present. The hall had been decorated beautifully, and a large banquet table had been assemble in the center of it, with the throne upon the sandstone dais looming in the background. Banners with the sigils of Houses Dalmascsa and Nabradia were hung in alternating pairs along each side of the long hall.

Prince Rasler was even younger than Caelen, but he projected a far more authoritative presence than the other prince. With a strong gaze and a deep, commanding voice that belied his youth, Rasler seemed both confident and in good spirits. Wearing his royal regimentals, a very ornate and fancy suit with real gold stitching, he held a regal dignity about him, whereas his sister was quite another story.

Princess Eswynn, closer to Caelen in age, could barely contain herself. This was the first time she'd ever been away from home except for a couple of very short visits when she was a young child that she barely remembered. It felt good to be free of her father's influence, even if only temporarily, and she was so excited to meet her brother's intended and to experience her homeland's sister kingdom that she'd heard so much about.

Her pale cheeks were rosy and she couldn't help the innocently excited smiled she wore on her face. At times, Wynna even bounced a bit on her heels from all her energy, not even realizing she was doing it. The movements made the skirt of her intricately embroidered dress dance and sparkle and her impeccably curled long hair bounce around her shoulders. She was wearing her favorite color, powder blue, because no one was here to stop her. Her brother had always been kind to her and infinitely lenient where her father had never been.

Greetings between the royals had already been completed, and Basch stood a bit back, letting them all speak as they would. Oh, he'd introduced himself well and politely enough, but it was not as though Rasler did not already know him, and he was the lowest ranking person in the room, after all. Wynna and Ashelia were giggling to each other, having not seen each other since childhood, while Rasler spoke with Raminas and Caelen.

The spread of food on the table was excessive, to be sure, no doubt meant to impress. There were a few different types of cactus fruits, one freshly cut, one marinated, and one made into a jam. There were two kinda of fish, one white fish that was flakier and saltier than the other, and one pink fish that was oily and very flavorful. Salted sand newts were of course present, being a staple of both kingdoms. A roast beast the Guardians had likely never seen before resembling a cross between a wolf and a boar was displayed prominently in the center of the table. Freshly-based bread, salad consisting of mushrooms and greens that resembled dandelions, and sharp cheese rounded out the meal. To drink, there was water, cactus juice, or wine.

Raminas introduced the Guardians to Prince Rasler, highlighting Star-Lord as their leader, seemingly ignoring Wynna even though she was standing right next to her brother. He related the story of how they came to Rabanastre and that they were honored guests of the Crown. He mentioned the Kingdom of Minnesota and other assorted details they had given upon their arrival, causing Rasler's brow to furrow softly with polite confusion and curiosity.

"I have never before heard of your homeland, but even so, I welcome you to the peninsula. Nabradia and Dalmasca are both kingdoms with rich histories built upon beautiful and beloved land. I hope you enjoy your stay," he said with a respectful nod to Star-Lord and then looking at each of them in turn. It was clear that Rasler had been extensively trained and groomed to be a perfectly-behaved royal with impeccable manners and social skills, but although his demeanor was stiffer than Caelen's, he did not give off arrogance or phony bravado, just pride. A lot of pride.

"Forgive me for staring..." Wynna said, looking between Gamora and Mantis. "... but you two are both so exotically beautiful!" Truly, she'd never before seen anyone who looked quite like they did. It was so boring being around people who looked like her all the time, always with white skin, fair hair, and stone gray eyes. The burst of color in Gamora's skin and hair, and the deep blackness of Mantis' eyes and her own green outfit, drew Wynna's usually bored gaze. She then turned her attention to Groot. She had no idea what he was, but he was so cute! "Ohh, hello!" she said, waving to the tiny plant person.

Ashelia, for her part, was trying to hardest to be on her best behavior, feeling the pressure of her impending marriage bearing down on her. She stood with her hands demurely clasped before her, feeling stifled and nervous but trying not to show it.

Basch was very formal, for in company such as this he was a servant and little more. A high-ranking and valued servant, but a servant nonetheless. He still was not quite certain he belonged at this gathering, but he could not have refused Prince Caelen's invitation. He supposed, too, that it was good for him to hear this conversation, should it venture into anything he needed to know with regard to the state of the war or of either kingdom.

"Please..." Raminas said, gesturing towards the table with a smile. "Take your seats, and we shall dine together."

King Raminas sat at one head of the table, while Prince Rasler was at the other. To Rasler's right sat Ashelia, and to his left, Wynna. To Raminas' left sat Basch, and to his right, Caelen. Ashelia had wanted to sit closer to Basch, because she knew she'd feel calmer with him near, but of course she knew that wasn't possible. The Guardians were free to fill whichever seats in the middle of the table that they wished. Munoh was present as well, idly hovering about in the room, though they were only visible and audible to Caelen and Mantis, for the time being, anyway.

Servants closed in once everyone was seated, asking what everyone wanted to drink and filling glasses accordingly. Next they assisted in everyone reaching whatever dishes they wished to try, portioning out the chosen foods onto their plates.

Another Time, Another Place (A Hollow Universe In Space) || closed with tarnishedxknight

@tarnishedxknight continued from here

The Guardians stood there, letting Captain Basch formally introduce them to King Raminas. They all then bowed respectfully except for Rocket, who only did so because Gamora pushed his head down. They trusted Basch for the most part, as he assured them no one would hurt them after telling them to leave their weapons at the ship. Quill and Gamora were the first ones to leave theirs; Drax didn't want to leave his knives, but did so after Mantis looked at him, while Rocket pulled a comical amount of retractable weapons from his pockets.

As they followed Basch, Mantis had stayed behind for a moment to approach Vossler. She felt much better after Munoh sent her some calm energy, and she smirked at the man. Suddenly, her hand was on his cheek, her antennae aglow. "Whenever you open your mouth to say something unkind, you will wail like a baby. Honestly, it might be more coherent than anything else you have said," she whispered. She patted his cheek twice as if to seal her whimsical behest, and hurried to follow the Guardians as Basch guided them through the palace of Rabanastre.

Quill straightened and cleared his throat to speak to the King. Mantis took his hand; Quill was a little confused, but he allowed it since he knew she wasn't feeling great.

"Your Majesty," he said, once again lowering his voice in an attempt to mirror Basch's formal tone and presence, hoping it would make the King like him more. "We come in peace. We thank you for your time, and we apologize for occupying one of your docks. I think I have–" He stopped talking rather suddenly, and swallowed. "Uh... I think... I have..."

What was happening was that Mantis was frantically reading his thoughts as he spoke, using her powers to interrupt him because he was going to say he had the perfect stuff to make up for it, wanting to show the King some Terran music with the Zune. While Terran music was excellent, Mantis knew not everyone would like it, nor find it an acceptable form of apology.

"I have no excuse," Quill said instead. "And I have to... shut up... now."

[lullqbys]

going to school w jotoro ,, -‘๑’-

- he seemed super intimidating at first, you and your group of friends were super scared of him

- you’ve seen him fight basically every guy he’s came into contact with at school, so there was absolutely no way you’d ever attempt contacting him (😜)

- to everyone’s surprise, he started talking to you ! it went from asking for a pen to him asking how your classes and day were going (how sweet 😝)

- you guys got super close all of a sudden, out of everyone at school, he managed to become closest of all to you

- he was a brick wall to everyone else, but somehow you were his exception ,, <3

- you’d been talking for months at this point, even toward the point he invited you to outings (which he normally never does) so of course you agreed ,

- he subtly learned all of your interests and likes , one day taking you out for lunch and your favorite cafe , much to your surprise

- he asked you out ! he even gave you his mothers jewelry, as a gift of how special you were to him.

- he was surprised you gave him a chance in the first place, never leaving his side like everyone manages to, and he knew you were the one .

- once you guys started going steady, he made SURE to have his eyes on you at all times

- he constantly keeps you in arms reach, always having a hand or finger on you no matter where you are .

- if someone even thinks about going up to talk to you, he’s brooding behind you, watching them like a hawk ( 🙈)

- he loves surprising you with gifts , he’s defo a gift giver and quality time lover 🦄

- he’ll cordially meet your parents and get to meet old man joeseph and holly !!

- once he becomes friends with kakyoin, kakyoin will LOVE to make fun of how you and his mom are his only soft spots.

- holly can see how much jotaro cares for you, plus she loves you as well , <3

jotaro would hate to have you in danger, so he makes you stay while he’s adventuring, but as soon as he comes back , he makes it so you have an entire week , just the two of you together doing your favorite things as him apologizing for being gone so long , 😛

[gurlwhaaa]

"and I still talk to you, when I'm screaming at the sky". pt.3 Geto Suguru x reader

read the first 2 parts before this if you haven't! <3 ______________________________________________________________

you reached home soaked in your tears and rain water. you wanted to forgive him but, how could you? he was unforgivable. he chose to be unforgivable.

you got out of your wet clothes and replaced them with the softest pajamas you could find. Suguru really liked them, you thought. you weren't going to let the memory of someone ruin your favorite things.

you replayed your interaction with Suguru. you couldn't stop. there was a feeling in your chest. the kind of feeling when you're missing someone. a kind of emptiness where you feel something sucking in.

was he trying to fix things? did he realize that this was unfixable? you wish it was. you wish you didn't hate him. you wish you didn't love him. you wish you hadn't loved him.

you got in bed. mind full with unorganized thoughts. he never let you sleep with something in your mind, you thought wistfully. you closed your eyes making the tears spill out once more. ______________________________________________________________

12:12 read the watch sitting on your bedside table. you had suddenly opened your eyes due to a sound that's source you couldn't figure out the first time until you heard it again. RING

it was your doorbell. who could it be at this time of the night? Satoru? you didn't think it was likely for him to come especially this late, when he had Suguru's company.

you got up drowsily and, unlocked the door. as you opened, you saw a very familiar figure. Suguru. "what are you doing here?!" you about screamed. you stood there in disbelief, waiting for him to answer. he parted his mouth but, no words came out.

"well- uhh-" he started. he didn't need to finish his sentence. you already knew. but, you wanted to hear it from him. "c-can I-" your expression softened. "are you having nightmares again?" you asked, this time softly. he nodded.

"please?" he pleaded. you opened the door wider to let him in. "this doesn't mean we're friends." you clarified. "wouldn't mistake it" he replied. you led him to your bedroom. you got in and he followed. it was nothing sexual.

you let him sleep the night for, it was you who consoled him when he had nightmares only a few years back.

you faced your back at him. you knew he wanted to hug you tight. you knew he wanted you to hug him. you hated him but, you still had a heart. so, reluctantly, you turned around and wrapped your arms around him. "thank you" he mumbled as he wrapped his shaking arms around you.

you ran your hand through his hair as a gesture of comforting him. "do you think you'll ever forgive me?" he asked, breaking the silence. you let out a sigh, "no, I don't know."

"I'll still keep trying." he assured. "you know what you did was unforgivable, Suguru." "you know that I still love you, and why would I give up on someone I love?" he questioned.

"you already gave me up. you clearly didn't love me enough to stay." your voice raised slightly. "I did what I had to do." he'd already lost the argument. "are you here to sleep or to try lure me back because I'm wrapped around your fingers huh?" you asked.

"I wouldn't stoop that low." he replied. "I think you would." you turned around facing your back to him, again as your arms left him. his hands were still clutched around your waist.

after a while, you felt his grip loosen. he probably had fallen asleep. you felt his face against your back. you turned around and distanced yourself. he had his hair down and free which was unlikely of him, as he would never sleep with his hair down.

you got up a got a rubber band. you gently pulled his hair back and lightly tied it. the pale moonlight fell on his face. he looked.. beautiful. you weren't thinking as you caressed his face, his hair, your finger dropped to his lips.

you weren't thinking as you leaned in, to kiss his lips. it was all you wanted to do, until, you felt him kiss back. he was awake?! you broke it off. embarrassed, you scattered back as you saw his eyes opening. he looked innocent, like a child. but he wasn't innocent, you remembered.

"s-sorry" you apologized. "I didn't mind it." he reassured. he sat up. "were you pretending to sleep?" you asked. "no. I woke up when you tied my hair." shit. you forgot that he sleeps light. "I'm sorry." you apologized again. "got carried away with my pretty face?" he smirked.

"oh shut up" you said as you lied down again with your blanket covering your face and, once again, your back facing him. you could feel him lie down too.

minutes passed, you couldn't sleep.

"you aren't asleep." he guessed. "I'm not." you replied. "do you still love me?" he asked. "I'm not answering that", was your reply. "you still do. you still think of me. you still want to kiss me." he said, this time with all seriousness.

"it was one time. I got carried away." you wanted to cry. "what if you could get carried away more than one time without having to say sorry?" "but, that would mean forgiving you Suguru and, I'm not doing that anytime soon."

"you don't have to forgive me, you just have to try me again." he corrected. you had turned towards him. "but, what if, I forgive you if I try you once again?" you questioned. "then I will be forgiven."

you stared into him for a while and he did the same. you gave in. you leaned in and met his lips with yours. he reciprocated. hands entangled on each other.

"thank you" he murmured between kisses. "I hate you" you replied. the future may be unknown but, if you didn't give it a shot, you will never know how it ends.

[starstruckodysseys]

wdym if i want to talk to people i need to reach out first. i should be able to send them vibes. with my mind

[insipid-drivel]

Friendship and relationships are hard, I'm lonely and can't be loved by anyone, so here's some hard realities and wisdom from someone who's going to die sad and alone inevitably:

Many of you have got to try to put some effort in nurturing your relationships with your friends, or at least more clearly negotiate what your friends can and can't expect from you in the long-term.

Seriously, this whole 0-contact-aside-from-reacting-through-each-other's notes and proclaiming you're ride-or-die about someone for it? Is literally killing me. I've actually been dealing with suicidality because of how impossible it is to stay in touch with, or even on good terms with, people I thought were my friends but ghosted me, and then acted bewildered when I was angry with them for it or didn't acknowledge them as my friend anymore. "You can't be mad at me for not answering your DMs for 7 years! We're friends! I still reblog your reblogs!"

I am absolutely allowed to be angry, and I absolutely can demote you in my mind from "person I thought was a friend" to "mutual that ignores me until they need a dopamine fix or an answer to a specific question".

Months or years of unprompted, unbroken silence is not friendship - acquaintenceship, sure, but not friendship. It's a bad friend that expects love and loyalty by default no matter how long they've been ghosting their friends.

Love and loyalty are like a garden: they require cultivating and a commitment to nurture and grow, or else it gradually withers, and eventually dies. Earning the love and loyalty of a friend and then abandoning the garden of that relationship is how you find yourself locked out of your former friend's garden, or find them lonely, miserable, and exhausted from trying to keep the garden thriving when they themselves have slowly been dying inside because you haven't come back to the garden in years.

You have to learn to reach out and nurture your relationships. If you're autistic or otherwise have problems socializing, there are still some skills that you need to learn to avoid being isolated and friendless at the end of the day. Being autistic with trouble socializing is not an excuse to treat people you call your friends or that you claim to love like hobbies you can leave and come back to whenever you feel like - I learned this the hard way as an autistic person with shit social skills.

You have to negotiate what a friend can expect from you if you're an Outside Cat Friend that only drops in when you have specific reasons to reach out. It can be heartbreaking being the friend left waiting for a reply or a text without knowing the friend you're waiting for is an Outside Cat Friend.

Unless you have already agreed with your friend(s) that it's okay to ghost each other for extensive periods, spontaneously dropping out of contact with someone you've convinced is a good friend to you is really shitty and makes you a shitty friend.

"But I don't have the energy to reach out." Tell them.

"I have a lot going on and don't have time to talk." FUCKING TELL THEM.

"I haven't had anything to talk about." THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR.

"I've been too anxious to reach out." SAY THAT. JUST SAY THAT.

"I need a break from social contact for a while, so I don't wanna talk at all really." SAY THAT BEFORE YOU JUST DROP OFF THE END OF THE EARTH.

I've been the Reaching-Out Friend for most of my life, and in the past 5-10 years especially, I haven't been finding a whole lot of strength left to keep tending abandoned gardens that are thriving in name only. I've gotten fed up with self-professed friends that say they love me or view me as a sibling, but ultimately prove themselves to be bystanders when it's my turn to need someone to lean on and help me look after the garden.

Yes, there are absolutely friends you can have that can go years without hearing from you and still pick up where you left off when you do meet up again. They're awesome and worth keeping just as much as any other friends are.

There are also those friends that silently grieve your absence, that reach out to no avail, and wind up leaving the garden to die entirely after salting the soil with their own tears. Those are the friends that you've taken too much from without giving enough of yourself in return, and you've used them up and thrown them away without realizing you've treated someone that cared about you like a tool.

"I'm not the kind of friend that reaches out first."

That's your choice. No matter how you dress it up, when you decide it's time to neglect a friend, you're choosing to neglect them if they aren't prepared for what to expect from a friendship with you. You have the right to do that whenever you want to, but you cannot expect a warm reception with every person you do it to every time you do it. You cannot anticipate full amnesty in advance without full disclosure in advance.

If you're currently thinking of someone you've left sitting on read for a long time right now? It might be time to break your pattern and reach out for once.

Fall together, not apart.

[hauntingblue]

Yabushige count your fucking days. I am so mad

[itsalwaysdark]

i literally likw felt sick hust now bc i thought abt gay people and ive just realized as i was about to hit post that this sounds homophobic. it was pure envy unfortunately

[skrunksthatwunk]

found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?