#mitski when i catch u mitski.....

[jackshiccup]

oh so you're going to sit there and tell me this isn't hijack coded ?

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Ohhh heheheeeeeHEHEEHHEEEEE giggles and rubs my hands together evilly. so we’ve had cult leader!geto and you who’s mad at him… and we’ve also had you who’s slowly accepting loving him…. But what about cult leader!geto and reader that’s just. Moved on. Accepted it when he left because of the understanding that it’s just the way life goes. Doesn’t mean to say that you didn’t miss him, that you still don’t, it just means that you understand that there’s no point being angry about things you can’t change, so you let it go. Obviously, it’s sugu. There’s no replacing him. But you don’t try to replace him, you just carry on with life. You find other people who are special to you and you don’t try to fill the hole he left in your heart, you accept it, heal it, and work around it. He sees you again years later and he excepts you to be angry at him — wishes that you’d be angry at him — but you’re not, you just smile at him. There’s no anger in your eyes, no bared teeth or quips of bitterness, just a soft kind of understanding that you can forgive him and carry on with your life without allowing him back in. IM ACTUALLY GOING INSANE PLEASE…. It’s not quite you forgiving him and loving him, moreso just understanding and accepting that he was someone very special, but just not accepting him into your life again. He can’t exactly tame you because you’re not angry. There’s no storm to wait out, there’s no rage for him to soothe. Nonchalance and acceptance I think is the best way to combat him methinks… :333 OMGGG think of that beabadoobee song “the way things go” ohhhhh..

“Passed your house when I was on the train, in my mind you’ll always stay the same.” “And there’s so much left to say, I guess I’m just the bigger guy.” “A distant memory I used to know, oh I guess that’s just the way things go.” SCREAMS!!!! AUGGHHH IM SORRY THIS IS WAY TOO LONG BUT. AUGHH I could scream ab sugu forever…. <333 — stsg anon !!

STSG ANON i need you to know that this broke me. gutted me. i feel numb inside THIS IS SUCH A TASTY SCENARIO I’M SCREAMING

okay so. just putting this out there; i think this would break him. lmao. this is the cruelest thing you could do to him because it’ll hurt him like nothing else. and he deserves it!! this is the best possible scenario for you, but the worst for him. and that’s just….. soooo bittersweet.

He sees you again years later and he excepts you to be angry at him — wishes that you’d be angry at him — but you’re not, you just smile at him. There’s no anger in your eyes, no bared teeth or quips of bitterness, just a soft kind of understanding that you can forgive him and carry on with your life without allowing him back in.

goshhhh stsg anon…………. the way you wrote this…………. :(((( i’m in awe of you always. this made me so so emotional i’m just ……… hhhhhhh…… my heart is crumbling a tiny bit but i’m gonna try to be coherent…… T_T

i think geto would be happy for you. i think that despite his own feelings, he’d ultimately make the painful choice to respect your wishes and stay out of your life. it hurts him but there’s also this sense of inevitability — this is the natural consequence of his actions. he was a fool for expecting anything else, hoping for anything else. but a part of him always wished that you could be together again; and i think that wish hurts him more than anything.

geto really is just a lonely guy at the end of the day, and the thing about his ideal world is that it doesn’t even just boil down to a world without non-sorcerers — to geto, it boils down to a world where i don’t have to see my loved ones suffer. that’s what he wants more than anything!! and i think that even though he knows it’s unrealistic, even impossible, a part of him was always hoping that you’d wait for him to create that world for you. that you could one day go back to the way things were.

so meeting you again, and being forced to accept that it just won’t happen… that he’s just a person of your past and nothing else…. yeahhhh. it breaks him a little. then again, he always wished for your forgiveness; at least he has that. at least he knows you don’t hate him. there’s a kind of comfort in that, even though he probably would’ve preferred feelings of hatred to no feelings at all. :(

no but this is genuinely heartbreaking from geto’s pov and it’s even worse because you’re just doing what’s best for you!!! there’s no anger, no hard feelings, and it irks him because there’s nothing he can do!! you’re so right stsg anon!!! there’s no storm to wait out, there’s no rage for him to soothe….. there’s nothing he can do to change your mind. it just is what it is.

i also think this forces him into unveiling himself. this is just my own take but my interpretation of cult leader!geto is that he’s pretending to be something he’s not like . 80% of the time…. i think he copes by creating all these new personas, silly and overbearing and cruel, when deep down he’s still just sad and a little bit lost. a little lonely. it’s very telling that he felt the need to create a new family, because that’s just the kind of guy he is — he needs to have people around him to protect and cherish. very similar to gojo (stsg soulmatism strikes again)…. when he meets gojo in jjk 0 he feigns nonchalance, but later, when he’s watching the sunset and thinking about their history, he just looks sad. resigned. there’s a softness he’s trying to hide, but it never quite leaves him.

and i think that with you being so open, so sincere, he really wouldn’t have any choice but to meet that with a sincerity of his own. i can see him giving you one last sad smile, and honestly telling you that he’s happy for you. that he wishes you nothing but the best. and he truly means it. he wants you to be happy more than anything; it’s fine if he can’t be there to see it.

it’s a shame, but he’ll learn to live with it — for you.

so anyway this made me cry AND THEN YOU TOP IT OFF WITH BEABADOBEE????????? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME????????? THAT SONGGGGG STOP STOP PLEASE I CANT TAKE IT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 it’s so geto i’m abt to throw up blood

can’t remember how to say your name // let alone count all the freckles on your face // a distant memory i used to know // oh, i guess that's just the way things go // oh, i guess that's just the way things go

can’t remember when you said you called // miles away, and it was still my fault // the love you said you had, it sometime showed // oh, i guess that's just the way things go // oh, i guess that's just the way things go

passed your house when i was on a train // in my mind, you'll always stay the same // i’m happy now, i ought to let you know // but i guess that's just the way things go // oh, i guess that's just the way things go // and i don’t mind that that's the way things go.

:(((((( stsg anon i’m not even joking this made me tear up …… he’s just so lonely. you’ll always be you, and he’ll always be suguru. i don’t think he could ever stop being fond of you, even if you were to forget him one day. in my mind, you’ll always stay the same………….. sniffle. he’ll always, always remember you.

[ma1dita]

partners in crime

luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader [the trouble!verse]

MAIN SERIES MASTERPOST

summary: few things are certain in this life as a demigod, but one thing is for sure— you can’t fight fate when it pulls you and luke castellan together, over and over again. two young people who hate the gods are more like them than they think, for better or worse. annoyances to best friends to lovers

things to know: dionysus!reader's nickname is trouble & most of these can be read as standalones!

here's a playlist (spotify & apple music links now available!)

child of dionysus headcanons!

trouble!verse moodboard 1 & moodboard 2 & college!trouble by the lovely @24kmar

deleted scenes from a different universe (AUs)

play the extended cuts (blurbs from in-between)

character study: luke castellan & trouble

any works, updates, thoughts, musings, etc about this series will be tagged under #trouble!verse !

key: fluff - ☼ angst - ☽ smut - ☆ jo's favorites - ᥫ᭡

[rewind to before] pre-established relationship

trouble always finds me (trouble!reader origin story) 1.7k ☼

The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. (You're an annoyance, but not an enemy)

entropy 3.6k☼

The one where you both blur the lines between annoyance and admiration. (the promise of becoming partners in crime)

buddy system 4.2k ☼

The one where he comes with you to rescue your younger twin brothers, Pollux & Castor. (this is as close to a real quest that Mr. D will give you--might as well take someone you trust!)

somebody's angel 4.4k ☽

The one where you convince him he’s pretty, even with a scar. (songfic - Die Alone - Finneas)

feed the fire 1.2k ☼

The one where his focus is not on spilled food, but on you. (Luke realizes this is more than playful banter)

bedtime stories 2.4k ☼

The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don’t mind at all. (the both of you have feelings you want to admit, but duty calls!)

crazy little thing 3.4k ☼

The one where he uses all his drachmas to make you smile on Valentine's Day. (the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite, sometimes)

anything you want 1.6k ☼

The one where you and him have your first kiss. (You've always loved teaching the story of Orpheus and Eurydice; except when your Orpheus runs away from you)

said he likes crazy 2.1k ☼ ☽

The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's avoided you since your first kiss. (For being a son of Hermes, he has a way of calming your nerves)

[pause and remember us like this] established relationship

play pretend 5.1k ☼

The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren’t exactly together yet. (Drunk words are sober thoughts. Your dad just wishes Luke told you instead of him)

a wish your heart makes 1.4k ☼ ☽

The one where you share dreams, burn cookies, and it still reminds him of home. (The dryads will probably ban you from the kitchen after this)

chance encounters ☼

The one where you both daydream about different lives. (You think you'd find him anywhere, by soul alone)

to see the chaos through ☽

The one where he remembers he was never a good guy, just yours. (Luke makes the ultimate deal with the devil in order to save you)

not your goddess ☽

The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. (songfic - Goddess - Laufey)

don't blame the kids ☼

The one where you both chaperone a trip to Mount Olympus. (the Olympians are bigger gossips than you thought they'd be)

trouble's coming for you 3.7k ☼

The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. (three times Percy is oblivious (and in the way) and the time he realizes you and Luke are in love)

now that we're older 3.5k ☼

The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. (Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl)

if you need to be mean (be mean to me) 1.5k☽

The one where he leaves before you wake up. (songfic - I Don't Smoke - Mitski )

[fast forward until we meet again] post-tlt

lovers, or partners in crime 2.1k ☽

The one where Annabeth and Percy think you’re guilty too. (the last day leading up to Luke's betrayal)

love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke 4.7k ☽

The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they’re still alive. (the five stages of grief after facing a loss)

to catch a thief 3.7k ☼ ☽

The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. (Your reunion with Luke isn't quite what you expected.)

solipsism 5.3k ☽

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. (the four times Luke uses Backbiter to visit you during college ft. the first time you trust a god to help you)

forever falling: luke castellan & his four great loves (LATEST ADD) ☼ ☽

The one where he falls from grace and still thinks of you. (the four great loves of Luke Castellan’s life and how it will end up killing him)

love me dry 4.5k ☼ ☽

The one where he meets you at his mother's house, though both of you didn't expect the other to be there. (a glimpse into May Castellan's idea of a perfect day)

when the curtains close 5.3k☽

The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Annabeth and Pollux find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.)

asking for trouble ☽

The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all)

as above, so below ☽ ☼

The one where you plead your case with the gods of Olympus. (The one thing the fates didn't expect was how much you'd both be like your fathers; in a way, you and Luke didn't see it coming either)

ask to be added to luke/general taglist 🥹

[star-sim]

"noo! she's taken!" ☆ enha hyungs

☆ non-idol! bf! enhypen hyungs x celebrity! fem! reader ☆summary: you are a very well-loved celebrity, and your relationship is finally revealed to the public. ☆genre: fluff, silly boys ☆warning(s)? ygs liked the maknae ver so here's the hyung ver! maknae ver

heeseung ☆

i think ur a musician here

one of those very personable and insightful ones

giving laufey or mitski yk?

anyways heeseung is THE stan

within your fandom

he's the guy that EVERYONE KNOWS

like ppl will argue who is the best [name] stan and the moment he's brought up they shut their mouths

heeseung does not play around when it comes to stanning you, his gf

somewhat like riki, heeseung runs multiple stan accounts for you

but he's most active and most well-known on 1) youtube and 2) tiktok

all his youtube videos are titled

"[name] concert 11/25/2023 nyc, usa (she looked at me!)"

"[name] concert 11/26/2023 miami, usa"

"[name] concert 11/27/2023 berlin, germany (i touched her hand!)"

"[name] concert 11/28/2023 jakarta, indonesia"

"[name] concert 11/29/2023 melbourne, australia (i met her!)"

like how the fuck is he going to all of these concerts when theyre literal hours apart and OCEANS AWAY

he likes to vlog his concert experiences

and theyre very entertaining because he's like genuinely enjoying himself

on his tiktok he also records his concert experiences

but i also think he posts your fancams and makes edits of you

too many times where an edit of you became known as "that one [name] edit"

he makes a lot of thirst edits of u

too many captions like "i want her so bad" or "she's so fine i need her biblically"

everyone knows who he is, even ppl outside of your fandom or the music scene

hes just that one guy that really likes you

one day ur on tour

its all fine and dandy, ur eating everything up, ur fans are loving it

and heeseung is documenting his concert experience

as he always does

and then it ends and heeseung posts it

however

this concert vlog

is

uh

receiving a lot of attention

TOO MUCH ATTENTION

THAT ITS

VERY

SUSPICIOUS

........

you and hee are just hanging out in your hotel when his phone starts blowing up

and yours too

all the comments on his video are normal, the ones that are expressing playful envy at heeseung's presence at ur concert

and like

it's not like heeseung doesn't get these types of comments

but one comment catches his eye

it has like 50k likes

and hes like oh shit

"at 3:05 heeseung why are you kissing [name]"

kissing.

[name].

he clicks that timestamp

and oh my god

THERES LIKE A CLIP OF HEESEUNG KISSING YOU

you see

when heeseung records your concerts he's recording it both for his fanpage and for the memories

he'll take as many cute couple pictures and videos with you as possible

and he just so happened to accidentally add one of the clips of you and him

kissing.

in fact

he accidentally added A LOT OF CLIPS AND PICTURES of you and him being a couple

ones of you hugging him backstage, ones of you two holding hands, even one where viewers can faintly hear you calling heeseung "babe"

and the other comments

OH LORD THE OTHER COMMENTS

"THAT SHOULD BE ME"

"HEESEUNG MOVE ASIDE!!!!!!!!!"

"i hate seeing people live my dream"

"SHE'S MINE *growls*"

"[NAME] GET BEHIND ME"

obv theyre all half joking half confused, but i think ppl are able to joke w him bc he's such an obnoxious stan 😭

and heeseung is like

poor heeseung is sweating and panicking

bc shit HE JUST EXPOSED UR RELATIONSHIP

but when he tells u

you literally are just like

"okay"

OKAY????

"it's not a big deal"

heeseungs like WHATATATATA

at first he's kinda unsure

bc ur so chill abt it that he's almost afraid that ur actually mad at him 😭

but you legitimately do not care

and when he realizes this

he goes from

😱

to

😈

because

NOW HE CAN FLEX ON EVERYONE

he goes straight to twitter and drops more couple-y pictures of you and him

he probably posts a tiktok that pans over to you on his bed or something

caption like "it's exposed now, but yeah, [name] is actually my gf"

its goes so viral

hes so smug about it too

like whenever he gets into arguments abt who's a better fanpage hes like "I'M LITERALLY A HER BF???"

he becomes an inside joke in ur fandom

i think everyone jokingly flames his ass too

"why did she pick heeseung of all people...."

"pixelated fancam, ass editing, shitty camera, yet [name] still chose him... what did we do wrong"

"[name] wasn't lying in her song when she said she has bad taste in men"

"i can't believe heeseung literally stole my spot... i should be the one that she writes all her love songs about..."

free him 😭😭😭

jay ☆

ooh this one is kinda juicy

ur a musician slay

but sometimes you do modeling

for one of your shoots

you're showing off your midriff and ur just glowing sorry

all ur followers are like

"ughhh step on me [name]"

"i don't think ygs understand i need her"

"[NAME] ONE CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE"

"i want her."

very quickly goes viral

ur just so hot ughhhhh

but ppl notice something upon closer inspection

you have a tattoo on ur back

at first everyone is like

"okay sexy lady love the tat"

but then

when they look closer

they can't help but see that incorporated into the design

is two

very

specific

letters

J and P

almost like they're someone's initials

🤨🤨🤨

hmmmmm

interesting.....

who is JP?

HMMM???

and now that ppl look at it

you have so many songs and albums that refer to JP

like ur one album

called

"just playing, i love you" but it's commonly abbreviated as "jpily"

JP????? ILY?? JP I LOVE YOU???

WHO THE HELL IS JP

"whoever jp is, he needs to meet me in the parking lot so we can have a talk 😆"

"jp my opp"

"jp kys!!!"

"jp is living my dream"

hehe

you see this

and jay aka mr JP himself sees this

and ur like

yk what let's tease the fans

for the next few months ur just teasing jay's existence

using his intials

like one time you wear a heart necklace that has the letters jp engraved in them

or when you tweeted "i love jp" but followed it up with "Jurassic Park is a wonderful movie 😆"

oh god you make it so obvious

"jp is the reason i make my music" and then following it up with "Jimmy Page is my favoritie guitarist 😛"

like ur fans are tired

and theyre getting outright insane

"guys the winter is getting cold and dire... the voices in my headare telling me that [name] is dating this jp person and i don't know how much longer i can live in denial"

"fuck you jp that should be me!!!"

"i hope jp knows how lucky he is... if a hot woman like [name] tattooed my initials i think i'd die maybe"

"i'm fighting demons (and jp)"

until finally!!!

you go to an award show

you look great as always

ugh queen

and ur getting interviewed

the interviewer asks you a playful question like

"oh are you here with any date?"

AND YOU JUST SMILE

"of course, i'm here with my boyfriend, jay park."

oh man

when that gets posted

EVERYONE IS GOING CRAZY

JAY PARK

JP

AAAAAAAAA

and when the actual award shows gets posted

it keeps panning over to you and jay

and everyone is like

THAT'S HER BF????

all jay can say is that he's prideful duh

everyone wants u but he's the only one that can have you

you definitely take a lot of pictures on the red carpet at the award show

and jay is with u in a lot of them

he's holding ur waist so tightly

like you're not gonna run away cuh it's okay omg 😭😭😭

anyways i think it gets resolved pretty easily

ur fandom accepts jay

but they still joke abt him

and when jay makes a twt account it gets worse

he WILL respond to them

and he WILL flex u

every time he does it shuts down the argument right away.... if he wants to win he just needs to mention ur name

"jay meet me after the concert, we will fight to the death for [name]'s love"

and this mf responds "can i bring [name] to be the ref?"

"jay ur hair looks so fucked up in this picture"

and he responds "yet [name] still picked me and not you"

you have to tell him to stop fighting ur 16 yr old fans HELP

jake ☆

sorry ur a musician again

you have a new song that came out

yk how in some songs

there's almost like an interlude

where there's speaking parts

like in agora hills theres a small part where doja cat says "baby can you call me back, it's so lonely in my mansion" yk?

you have something like that in your newest song

cute!

except it's not just your voice

but a MAN'S voice too

JAKE'S VOICE

the speaking part is very flirty and suggestive

and when it comes out

ppl are like

WHO IS THAT MAN

and then when the music video comes out

theres a male actor that you have many scenes with

now.... the male actor's face is cut out...

but there are still many scenes with you touching him, holding him, kissing him, and vice versa

and when the speaking part comes on

that male actor is supposed to be the male part if that makes sense

that male actor is

drum roll plS

JAKE

when ppl read the credits of the song and music video

they can't help but notice "jake sim"

and when they search ur other songs and mv's

"jake sim" has never showed up...

until this song.....

interesting....

ur fans do a lil detective work

and this jake sim guy doesn't have any involvement in the music or acting industry....

so why is he in ur song AND music video....

hmmmm

they can't find any ig account linked to him

except one that's very obscure

it has a funny username like

"@laylasdad1115" so ppl are like "oh that's probably not even him" and you weren't even following that account so they just let it go

WRONG!!1

@LAYLASDAD1115 IS JAKE

and although you're not following that account on ig

when ppl scroll down to your very very old posts

they see something

very

very

very

miniscule

but

very

very

very

crucial

a post of you and a golden labrador.... and the caption says "i love you layla"

layla... laylasdad1115

and THEN BOOM

NEW SONG COMES OUT

AND AT THE BEGINNING

YOU SAY

"jakey, kiss me!"

OH MY GOD

WHO IS JAKE SIM!!!!!!

"@laylasdad1115 u better watch out...."

"who do you think u are jake sim..."

and then you have a concert

and its not a massive stadium, it's very casual

and there's a part of the concert where you just answer questions that ur fans have and just hang out w them

and someone asks as a joke

"who's jakey in ur song btw?"

and with the most straight face

ur just like

"oh he's my boyfriend!" and then you point to the front row and ur like "he's actually here tonight, say hi baby!"

and jake is so enthusiastic abt it, hes like "hi guys!"

while everyone else in the room is like

WHAT.

the way ygs are so casual abt it is so appalling

"[NAME] YOU CAN'T JUST CASUALLY DROP THAT U HAVE A BF I THOUGHT WE WERE GETTING MARRIED"

"she's taken..... i'm gonna die.... "

LMAAOAOAO

it's known in ur fandom now that ur bf is jake sim or wtv

i don't think anyone even calls him jake

out of pure disrespect (😭) they call him by his instagram username

"laylasdad1115 might be dating [name] but i'm legally bound to her so who's really winning"

when jake shows up to your concerts i do think your fans joke w him like

"ouuu jake ur so lucky [name] is here or i'd give you a black eye"

FREE HIMMMM

sunghoon ☆

three words: your personal bodyguard

you're an actress cutie

and it's award show season

at all of your award shows ppl notice there's this tall brooding figure looming over you

ITS SUNGHOON LMAO

he's like

GLARING AT EVERYONE

HE KEEPS SQUARING UP RANDOM PPL 😭😭😭

ik this might be a crazy crossover but the moment he spots ryan gosling he's so ready to throw fists

"okay barbie boy you look like you want a broken nose"

sunghoon is very protective of you

obv bc the film industry is lowk kinda sus and exploitative, he def watches out for u a lot

everyone kinda just assumes that he's ur scary bodyguard

but then paparazzi pictures come out

and hes with you

in every

single

one

"goddamn her bodyguard is passionate about his job 😭😭😭"

in fact when the annoying invasive paparazzi interviewers come to talk to you sunghoon is sending the the NASTIEST GLARES

but like it's valid bc ur literally walking to Walgreens at 9AM on a tuesday why do you need to be photographed

"hi [name] can we ask you a few questions-"

hoon literally answers for u

"No. 😐."

interviewers are so rude, theyre like "well i didn't ask you, did i... [name] can we ask you-"

sunghoon just blinks and says

"No. 😐😐😐😐😐😐😐." again

and then ygs leave

theres clips of you at the airport where sunghoon is scaring all ur fans, which makes way for you to have a cmfortable flight

i think ur fans appreciate him but theyre lowk scared

"oh god this guy does not play abt his job 😭😭"

until one day

you get playfully asked abt ur bodyguard on an ig live

and ur like "wait what that's not my bodyguard, that's my bf"

UR WHAT????

HUH????

😱😱😱

ur fans are in the trenches

"i cant hate him bc he protects [name].... but damn i wish that was me 😞😞😞"

and when they review some of the clips w you and sunghoon they see you smiling and giggling with him

"he makes her happy so ig i'll let him have her </3"

"this is the hardest sacrifice i have to make"

i lowk think sunghoon doesn't care

he FIGHTS EVERYONE

only for u ofc 😊😊😊

maknae ver

[tomriddleslove]

i still look for you.

✩Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Theodore cannot wait to start the next chapter of his life, moving in with you. Alternatively: Memory is a fickle thing.

Warnings: Brief allusion to alcoholism if you squint

Songs: Never find u - Sombr

I bet on losing dogs - Mitski

I wait for you - Alex G

The date reads the 2nd of May, 2002. Theodore looks down at the calendar and for some reason, a horrible feeling of dread pools in his stomach. He can’t exactly tell why.

He shakes it off, yawning lightly as he sits up in bed. He runs a hand through his messy hair, eyes adjusting to the dim morning light as he looks around his now bare room. His feet touch the bedroom floor, and he sits on the edge of his bed for a second, staring off before getting up.

There was no time for zoning out, he had things to be doing.

With a gentle sigh, he pushes himself off the bed, the warmth of the sheets still clinging to his skin. As he pads into the kitchen, his bare feet lightly brushing against the cool floor tiles, he catches sight of the empty firewhiskey bottle on the counter.

A furrow forms between his brows as he reaches for the bottle, his fingers brushing against the smooth glass surface. Memories of the previous night flicker in his mind, hazy and fragmented.

He must have indulged more than usual.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he meanders back to the bedroom, where cardboard boxes lie in disarray. He reaches into one of the unsealed boxes blindly and tugs on the first thing he finds, a grey knitted sweater and a pair of black slacks. He wanders out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth as he tosses the few stray things that lay here and there, things he had forgotten to pack the day before.

Theodore, albeit a little hungover, was thrilled. Today was the day he was due to move into his new apartment with you. You would be meeting him in the evening because you had work, however Theodore had a day off, so he would do the bulk of the moving process in the meantime. He’s just slipping his shoes on when the doorbell buzzes. He walks over to the intercom, buzzing the person in.

Theodore presses the button on the intercom, expecting to hear the voice of the moving truck driver but Instead, there's silence.

Frowning slightly, he presses the button again, but still, there's no response.

Yet another thing to solidify his choice to move out of this shitty apartment, as if the prospect of living with you wouldn’t be enough.

“Get- This- Stupid- Fucking- Thing- To- Work-” Theodore grunts, banging his fist into the intercom. Finally, the buzzing sound rings, and he can see the driver entering the flat through the small camera.

With a resigned sigh, Theodore hurriedly shrugs on his jacket. He jogs over to the door as a knock echoes through the apartment, cursing as he almost trips over a box. Kicking it to the side frustratedly, he opens the door.

"Sorry about the intercom," Theodore apologizes as he reaches the driver. "It's been acting up lately."

The driver nods understandingly, offering a sympathetic smile. "No worries. Let's get these boxes loaded up, shall we?"

They spent the next half an hour carrying the ridiculously heavy boxes down 4 flights of stairs because the elevator had stopped working. Theodore wipes the sweat from his brow as he sets down the last box with a thud, the weight of it nearly causing his arms to tremble. He takes a moment to catch his breath, chest heaving with exertion. He reaches into his pocket and hands the driver what Blaise had informed him to be a form of muggle currency, a flimsy piece of paper with “£50” written on it.

“Thank you for your help,” Theodore says, breathing slightly laboured. The driver was merely doing the job Theodore had paid him to do, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly sympathetic for the clearly older man who had broken out in a sweat by the time they had bought the first two boxes down. The driver frowns as he looks down at the note, then back up at Theodore.

Was it not enough? Had Theodore given him the equivalent of a single sickle?

His misinformed panic quickly subsides when the balding man grins, extending a hand out to Theodore.

“No worries mate. Bit of a drive, isn’t it? How are you getting there?” The man says, and Theodore pales for a second.

What exactly did muggles use again?

“Car,” Theodore blurts after a second, and the man nods, pocketing the £50 note into his shorts.

“Well, I reckon you’ll arrive before me. Should be close to 8 hours, had to tell the missus I wouldn't be home for the day. Had her questioning whether I was working or down at the pub!” He chortles.

Theodore chuckles nervously, feeling slightly out of his element with the man's casual banter. He nods along, trying to appear as though he understands every word, despite the thick accent throwing him off.

"Yeah, the drive should be fine," Theodore replies, forcing a smile. "Thanks again for your help. Really appreciate it."

With a final nod of farewell, Theodore watches as the man heads back to the truck and drives away, leaving him standing alone in front of his old apartment.

Casting one glance around the barren area, he apparates away, appearing in the corridor of his new house in no less than 4 seconds. He truly does pity muggles and their transport, for he couldn't even entertain the idea of having to spend 8 hours trapped in a car.

He walks around the empty house, a small smile tugging at his lips as he imagines the countless things you’d do here. The idea of building a life with you, so grossly domestic, brought a grin to his face.

You had been a saviour to Theodore, a burst of sunlight on a cloudy day.

He can still recall the day he had first met you with frighteningly precise clarity, though to Theodore it was only natural that he did, for he was sure he only started living when he had met you. He was only ever bound to fall deeper in love with you from the very first time he had seen you looking up at him with that slightly lopsided grin that sent shivers down his spine and warmth flooding his chest. It was as if the world had suddenly become brighter, more vibrant, simply because you were in it.

Whether it was studying together in the library, sneaking out for midnight strolls around the castle, or simply sitting in comfortable silence, Theodore found himself falling deeper and deeper under your spell.

He snaps out of his daydreams, looking around as he checks his watch.

15:07

This would be the perfect time to go out and explore the town a bit, perhaps find a supermarket.

The driver was due to get here around the same time you would finish work, and Theodore was sure you’d be exhausted. He decided to make you some dinner, knowing how late shifts at the ministry drained you.

Navigating the winding streets, Theodore takes in the sights and sounds of the town, marvelling at the quaint shops and charming architecture. It's a far cry from the bustling streets of Glasgow, but Theodore finds himself drawn to the peaceful atmosphere of the small town.

After 2 hours of finding himself sidetracked by a variety of different shops, he finally finds a supermarket. He heads in and emerges later with his wallet considerably lighter and a handful of bags filled with an unnecessary selection of snacks, and produce.

It was only a further 3 hours later, after Theodore had procrastinated reading a book as he lay sprawled across the remarkably comfy bed that came in the refurbished apartment that he realised for the abundance of cabinets and chairs that the place came with, there would not be a single pot or pan in sight. How Theodore planned to cook tomato soup without a pan, or a chopping board, or a knife at the very least, was beyond him.

With a begrudging sigh, he accepted the financial loss of having to venture back into town to get the necessary culinary equipment. At least now by the time you’d be back from work, the soup would just about be ready, so you could enjoy it nice and fresh.

With the attention span of a 5-year-old, it was only natural for what should have been a 30-minute store run to turn into a 2-hour shopping spree, but Theodore couldn't help it when he saw a second-hand book store and a florist stand that sold green - yes green - tulips (which so happened to be your favourite flower). Entering the apartment once again having sworn to himself that he is not to spend for the next month, Theodore sets down the bags and rolls up his sleeves, washing his hands as he prepares to cook.

Theodore sets to work, chopping vegetables and simmering soup on the stove. The savoury aroma fills the air, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs and spices. It's a labour of love, preparing a meal for you after a long day, but Theodore wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanks to his admirable procrastination skills, Theodore had managed to pass an impressive 7 hours doing nothing and was only midway through dicing some garlic when a resounding knock echoed through the empty house.

Moving the sizzling pot off the stove, he makes his way over to the door, wiping his garlic-smelling hands on his trousers as he opens the door. The same man stands before him, a truck parked outside as he greets Theodore.

“Cor, smells lovely. Must have gotten here well before me if you're already cooking” The man chuckles, and Theodore nods, fumbling for an excuse.

“Relatively smooth journey.” He nods, haphazardly slipping his shoes on as he follows the man to the empty truck. No longer living on the top floor of a dingy apartment building, the process of moving the boxes was far easier, and no longer than 10 minutes later the driver is (to Theodore's relief), waving goodbye with the large wad of bills clutched in his hands. Theodore sighs as he shuts the door, setting the final box down on top of the coffee table. Boxes lay strewn around the living room, which was connected to the kitchen in an open-plan configuration. Quickly finishing off the last of the cooking so he could leave the soup to simmer, he makes his way over to one of the boxes, ripping at the tape.

He reaches for a picture frame tucked away in one of the smaller boxes. With a tender smile, he carefully removes the frame, revealing a picture of you and him taken during one of your adventures at Hogwarts.

You had just spent the day out in Hogsmeade, and after successfully smuggling 5 bottles of fire whiskey back into the castle, you both sat on the sofa in the common room, a blanket thrown over the two of you. You had a red scarf wrapped around your neck. You loved that scarf, wearing it absolutely everywhere despite Theodore’s protests that you were repping the rivalling house.

You were curled up into Theodore's side, a grin on your face. Mid-laugh, your cheeks and the tip of your nose red as you were looking beyond the camera. It was a simple candid shot taken by Pansy and one that you had found incredibly adorable and immediately framed.

Gently dusting off the frame, Theodore carries it over to one of the shelves in the living room, setting it carefully down.

He hears the sound of the door opening behind him. Turning around, Theodore's heart skips a beat as he sees you standing in the doorway, a tired smile on your face as you kick off your shoes and step inside.

"Hey," you greet him, your voice soft with exhaustion but filled with warmth.

Theodore's face lights up at the sight of you, and he can't help but feel a rush of excitement. Dropping the box he's holding, he rushes over to you, enveloping you in a tight embrace.

"Welcome home," Theodore whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I've missed you."

You return his embrace eagerly, burying your face in his chest as you breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne. It's a comforting embrace, and you can’t help but cling to him a little tighter.

You pull away, a small grin tugging at your lips as you look around your new home.

The space may be filled with boxes and scattered belongings, but it already feels like home with Theodore by your side.

"Wow," you murmur, your eyes wandering around the room. "It looks amazing, Theo. You've been busy."

Theodore beams with pride at your words, his heart swelling with happiness.

"I wanted everything to be perfect for when you got home," he says, his voice filled with affection. "And I thought we could celebrate our new place with some homemade tomato soup."

You can't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. Theodore always knows how to make you feel special, even after a long day at work.

"I love it," you say, crossing the room to wrap your arms around him once more. "And I love you."

You momentarily break away from the hug, reaching over for the ladle, You sneakily take a sip of soup, ignoring Theodore’s gasp of indignation as you groan.

“And I fucking love tomato soup,” You groan, and Theodore can’t help but laugh.

“Go and change. I’ll plate it for us.” Theodore says, moving over one of the boxes labelled ‘Crockery’.

You hum, wandering off to the bathroom. Your voice resounds off the bare walls as you speak.

“Start without me, love. I need to shower and I want to go to bed as soon as possible”

Theodore frowns, ignoring the slight disappointment but agreeing nonetheless. He indulges in a hearty bowl of soup, one set for you on the counter as he leans against the kitchen island.

About 20 or so minutes later, Theodore is washing his bowl, and his attention is drawn to the sound of the bathroom door opening. You emerge, still clad in your work clothes, a tired but content expression on your face. Theodore's eyebrows furrow slightly at the sight, a hint of confusion flickering in his eyes.

You had said you were going to shower, so why haven’t you changed? Perhaps you were simply so tired you had forgotten to bring some other clothes, or you didn’t realise. Theodore shrugs it off, far too enamoured by you to ponder on it for long.

You pad into the kitchen as a gentle acoustic melody fills the area, and you look over to see the record player propped up on a still-sealed box, alongside a stack of records. You can't resist teasing him about unpacking the vinyl player first.

"Really, Theo? Out of all the boxes, you had to unpack the record player first?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

Theodore rolls his eyes playfully, but there's a smile tugging at his lips as he pulls you into his arms. "Hey, music sets the mood," he defends himself, swaying you gently in a makeshift dance.

You can't help but laugh at his response, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you.

You shake your head in mock exasperation, but there's a fondness in your gaze as you look up at him.

As the music plays softly in the background, Theodore and you begin to sway to the rhythm, your movements slow and synchronized. The dim light of the kitchen casts a warm glow over the scene, illuminating your faces as you gaze into each other's eyes.

Your hands find their place on Theodore's shoulders, while his hands rest gently on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Theodore's gaze is soft as he looks down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. A small giggle resounds through the kitchen area as he pulls back, hands holding yours as he spins you around.

A small yelp escapes your lips as he dips you, his laughter mingling with yours as you dance with one another. You slow down slightly, resting your head against Theodore's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as you move together. The song slowly fades into the next track, and you pull back slightly, resting your chin on Theodore’s chest as you look up at him.

“It’s perfect. It’s everything we spoke about back when we were at Hogwarts” You murmur, and he smiles softly.

“It is” He whispers against your lips, as he leans down to kiss you.

This. This is what home felt like.

It was simple, but it was belonging, and it was belonging with you.

Theodore yawns, and a small grin tugs at your lips as you look at him.

“Go to bed. I’m gonna quickly eat and sort some things out then I’ll join you.” You reassure, pulling away.

He goes to protest but yawns, and realises that he truly was quite tired. With a sheepish smile, he nods, kissing your forehead as he disappears off to the bedroom.

Around half an hour later Theodore's eyes flicker open at the sound of you entering the room.

You settle under the covers, nestled close to each other, sharing the warmth.

"So, how was your day, love?" Theodore asks, his voice gentle as he strokes your hair.

"It was good," you reply with a soft smile. "Busy, as usual, but nothing I couldn't handle."

Theodore nods, his expression filled with understanding. "I'm glad to hear that. You always handle everything with such grace."

You chuckle softly, feeling a pang of bittersweet emotion tugging at your heart. "Well, you know me, always trying to keep it together."

There's a moment of silence between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Theodore feels a sense of longing, as though he is yearning for something he can't quite grasp.

"You know," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, "We should go out to town tomorrow. I found a nice cafe you’d love.” Theodore mumbles, sleep overtaking him as he fights to keep his eyes open.

You remain silent, running a hand through Theodore's hair as his head rests on your chest.

“We’ll see.” You whisper, reaching over to switch off the bedside lamp.

Theodore frowns, slightly confused. He speaks through his half-asleep state.

“Do you have work tomorrow? It’s a Sunday, you never work on Sundays,” He mutters.

You pause, your heart skipping a beat at his words. A pang of sadness washes over you, but you push it aside.

“We’ll see tomorrow.” You say softly, pressing a kiss to Theodore’s forehead.

Theodore hums, curling into you closer as he wraps an arm around your waist.

“You make it sound like you’re going to disappear.” He mumbles into your neck. A small smile tugs at your lips as you wrap your arm around him and let your eyes flicker closed.

“I love you, Theodore.” You whisper, before you both succumb to sleep.

Dawn breaks, the gentle glow of the morning sunlight casting a serene glow on the bedroom. As Theodore wakes up in the morning he reaches out, sleepily fumbling around for you. His hand reaches out but finds only empty space, the other side of the bed cold. Groggy and disoriented, he blinks away the remnants of sleep, trying to shake off the fog that clouds his mind.

With a heavy sigh, he sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes as he takes in the quietness of the room. It's too quiet, he realizes as if the very absence of sound weighs down on him.

Pushing himself out of bed, Theodore pads across the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the floor. He wanders through the empty house, the silence feeling oppressive now.

“[Name]?” He mumbles out, looking around.

No response.

He frowns. Today was a Sunday. You never worked on Sundays. Surely, if you were working, you would have told him.

His phone pings and he’s momentarily distracted, looking down at his home screen.

Blaise: We’re always here for you. It might not get easier but we’re all here to help. Sending you love.

Theodore frowns, utterly confused. It was such a morbid message from Blaise out of the blue.

He doesn’t have much time to unpack the meaning, however.

Entering the kitchen, Theodore's gaze falls upon the untouched bowl of soup on the counter. Confusion furrows his brow as he approaches it, a sense of unease settling in the pit of his stomach.

"[Name]?" he calls out, his voice echoing in the empty room. There's no response, just the silence that seems to press in on him from all sides.

Becoming more awake now, Theodore's movements become more frantic as he searches the house, calling out your name with increasing urgency. But there's no sign of you, no trace of your presence anywhere.

Panic begins to rise within him, checking each room as your name falls from his lips in desperation.

Stumbling back into the living room, he walks to the corridor but pauses when a glimpse of a white card catches his eye, poking out from the box laying atop the coffee table. He feels inexplicably drawn to it, a nagging feeling telling him to pause his searches for you.

Frowning, he tugs it out of the box, and his eyes roam over the small, A5 sheet of card.

In Loving Memory of [Name] [Last Name]

14/04/1981 - 3/05/1998

oh.

right.

Theodore's heart lurches in his chest as he reads the words on the card, a cold shiver running down his spine.

He reads the dates again, his mind struggling to grasp everything.

Theodore sinks onto the nearest chair, his hands trembling as he clutches the card tightly. Tears blur his vision as he struggles to come to terms with the truth, the weight of his grief crashing down on him with a crushing force.

It all makes sense now. The inexplicable moments of confusion, the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. He had been living in a dream, clinging to a reality that no longer existed.

Grief may have been cruel, but love was crueller. Grief made him acknowledge that you were gone, that you had been gone for four years, but love made him think you’d walk through the door any moment with a tired smile tugging at your lips. Love made him think he could cook for you and sit down with you at the end of the long day. Grief made him accept you would never be here again but love? Love made him look for you.

Tears blur his vision as he struggles to come to terms with the reality of your absence, a hollow ache settling in the pit of his stomach. How could he have been so blind, so foolish to believe that you were still here with him?

He feels suffocated by the emptiness of the house, the silence echoing like a constant reminder of what he has lost.

His movements uncoordinated and shaky, he stumbles as he walks over to the kitchen. He haphazardly throws open cabinets as he reaches for the bottle of whiskey, his fingers fumbling as he struggles to twist off the cap. Taking a massive swig straight from the bottle, he welcomes the burning sensation that courses down his throat, momentarily dulling the pain that constricts his airways.

Theodore stumbles back to the bedroom, the bottle of whiskey clutched tightly in his hand. As he navigates through the maze of boxes, he knocks one over, its contents spilling out onto the floor. He curses as he knocks it over, and in a cruel twist of fate, a red scarf is sent tumbling out of the box.

His breath catches in his throat as he picks up the scarf, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric. Somehow, it still carries the faint scent of your perfume, a haunting reminder of your presence that lingers in the air.

“Fuck!” Theodore shouts, smashing the bottle of whiskey against the kitchen counter as he holds onto the scarf.

Curses and shouts of anguish tear from his throat, echoing off the walls of the empty house like a sick symphony . He smashes the contents of the box with reckless abandon, the sound of breaking glass filling the air.

But as suddenly as his outburst began, it comes to an abrupt halt; Theodore's chest heaves with exertion. Panting heavily, he stares blankly at the wreckage around him, the full weight of his actions sinking in.

For a moment, there's only silence, broken only by the sound of his ragged breaths.

He wanted none of this. None of these stupid things, or this stupid house. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of you. Perhaps it was because everything he did, was for you. Whether you were in this life or the next.

He kicks the scattered mess around him, walking off to the bedroom.

Tears well up in Theodore's eyes as he collapses onto the bed, clutching the scarf to his chest with a desperate grip. His body racks with sobs as he holds onto the memory of you tightly, and he can only pray that he’ll wake up and you’ll be there.

Grief may have been cruel, but love was crueller. And with the way Theodore loved loves you, he was only ever bound to such a miserable demise.

@mildlyuninformative @chgrch @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @schaebickel @lillywildly @batmandabest @always-reading @multifandom-worlds

[catfern]

she will destroy you.

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

music: crack baby or bag of bones ( or anything from puberty 2 ) - mitski

word count: 3.3k (i'm exhausted)

summary: rumours are swirling, fighting their way through your front door. you hope to keep your work and private life separate, but your proximity with your boss threatens to catch up with you.

warnings: mean!toxic!abby, cheating, porn with a LOT of plot, swearing, tipsy sex, fingering, oral (r!receiving), zero ( i mean ZERO ) aftercare, angst-ish

an: a quick intermission from cowboy!ellie because LORD. i read one page from one book abt a butch teacher yearning for the headmaster's wife and suddenly I NEED AFFAIRS!! I NEED YEARNING!! I NEED SECRECY!! and who better to do that with than a rlly mean ceo!abby who has a PhD in fucking bitches.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Shit.”

A line of scarlet trickles onto the warm printer paper and settles. You drop your paperwork on an unknown desk and suck your finger, hissing through your teeth at the sting. Your phone buzzes impatiently in the back pocket of your work pants, and you fumble with your non-bleeding fingers to pull it out.

we’ll talk abt this when u get home

see u after ur party i guess

A shit fucking day.

You hall back to your desk, defeat slumping heavy on your shoulders. The Office makes an effort not to stare as you walk by, low whispers hot on your feet like coals in a firewalk. You pretend very poorly not to see the half-lidded, secretive looks shared between your old work friends by the water cooler. Water off a duck’s back, your mom used to say in a nonchalant way when you cried to her about mean girls at school. Not that you ever really knew what that meant.

You were never really thankful to be shut off from the rest of the cubicles, until now. A fortress of frosted glass and a heavy door, your desk was the secluded gateway to a place dreaded. Just you and The Boss, which you guess didn’t help the flying tongues of the old, bored fucks in accounting, but it kept people away. Away from you, with their knowing looks and unknowing laughs.

You huff, settling into your uncomfortable desk chair and digging out a small first aid kit your dad bought you when you first started. Pulling the seal off the small tin, you eye its contents. Disinfectant, thermometer, some loose aspirin and bandaids. You whine lightly as you wrap one tightly around your ring finger, feeling it throb and pulse, like a complaint. Get over yourself, you tell your body.

A sharp - ahem - breaks through your mumbling silence. She’s never sick, she never coughs. It’s a bodiless beckoning, a call into the wild, it’s the wordless agreement you have with her. You pick up your notebook, and the nearest working pen, and shuffle quickly through the open door into her office.

The opaque shades are drawn, the natural light greying and dying on the dark, decaying herringbone floor. 

Abby is bathed in the orange light of her desk lamp. With impeccable, almost effortless posture, she’s resting her forearms on her desk, one hand scratching notes into her diary, the other distractedly tapping on the leather top. You follow the shadows that the folds in her dress shirt create, your eyes falling on the contour of her body. 

You know she frequents a few gyms. You’re the one who schedules late night international calls around her evening runs, and her weights sessions, and her triweekly spin class. But now, the results of her efforts are on display, tightly wrapped in expensive cotton, perfectly tailored, down to the very last stitch, to her existence. You swallow an uncomfortable feeling when she deigns to meet your eye.

She looks you over in the way she always does, an uncaring, but judgemental once-over, like an army sergeant inspecting a uniform. she hones in on the bandaid,

“Workplace injury?”

Her voice has the warmth of a dying cigarette, rolling like well-spoken honey off her lips. You almost feel ashamed, your finger so offensive to her you could chop it off. You almost feel like you wouldn’t even mind. You start picking at the ends of the bandaid with your thumb.

“Paper cut.” Your voice is always so out of place here. An echo of something that does not belong. She nods her head, ever so slightly, as if she understood.

“Don’t think you can go claiming compensation for that.” It’s a joke you’re not allowed to laugh at. You smile lightly instead. It’s short-lived, “I need you to correct some seating arrangements for tonight.”

Yes, of course. No problem. In wordless agreement, Abby starts listing off adjustments, complaints and warnings from guests about not being seated next to their five ex-husbands, or their whining step-children, or ex-business partners fallen from grace. your pen fingers begin to ache as the whole process draws out.

“And I’m going to need you seated at my table, to keep track of my evening itinerary.”

Uncertainty quickly sows its seeds in your stomach. The unopened messages from your girlfriend burn their way through pocket, searing at your legs like a brand on cattle. Everyone knows, everyone will know. Every detail of your life will be laid bare, and you’ll be tried publicly and without mercy. Your bandaid begins to unravel as you rub anxiously at the glue underneath.

You need to do something, something to get things back under control.

“Actually,” You start, unsure. Abby meets your eye quickly, without hesitation, “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” It’s quick, and condescending. Undercutting any sudden courage you may have had, she meets your eye and stares you down, pinning you under ice, almost imploring you to feel terrified. And then she looks away, busy packing away the seating chart, and you wonder if she even looked at you at all.

She stands, and you try to meet her, your hands clutching your notebook.

“Your attendance tonight is mandatory.” She says it slowly, harshly, like it’s hard for you to understand. Her eyes chase quickly over your outfit, “It’s a black tie event.”

You’re left alone in a dark office, hyperventilating.

The apartment is empty and cold when you arrive home. 7 unanswered texts to your girlfriend tell you she doesn’t want you near her, but she isn’t packed. You expect her to come home, hopefully in the hour you have before you have to go again, and you contemplate just blowing the gala off to wait.

Abby’s voice is sharp in your head, a familiar dedication wringing your body. You can’t leave her. She needs you there.

You put off the conversation with your girlfriend into the furthest parts of your mind, allowing yourself to be swallowed in the minor decisions of clothes and hair and accessories. It’s not until you’re throwing your shoes on, and three times you think you hear her keys in the door, that you give up.

The phone rings 5 times before going to voicemail.

Hey. Listen. I know we said we weren’t going to talk until we were face to face but..

Whatever Maria told you wasn’t true, okay? I promise-I fucking promise you, nothings happened. Baby, okay? People are fucking bored, and I love you, so so much. I’ve gotta go to this one thing tonight - i tried to get out of it i swear -, and i’ll come home and we can talk, and we can fix this. Okay? Jus-Just, gimme some time to explain. Okay. I love you. Bye.

Echoes of quiet chatter uncomfortably ebb and flow off the walls of the ballroom. Too many people. Shoes scuff the cheap marble as the rich make their rounds, with light touches and reused laughter. They all hate each other.

Abby is a familiar sight. Wearing the same thing she has all day, she looks staggering. Hands just breaching her suit pockets, comfortably falling at her side, her hair in a calculated braid, designed to make her look approachable. 

 The air here agrees with her, her smile wide and effortless. You know she’s come straight from a meeting, and you suppose that adds to her charm. The Working Woman, a success story. Her rich friends, who spend their inheritances on shares and indoor tennis courts, lap it up. She’s a foreign object, something unfamiliar and wild.

You don’t interrupt, skimming the sidelines to get to your table. You can feel her glance, without substance, before returning to her conversation. Your event planner ( a shitty flip notebook that fits in every small clutch you own ) sits on the tablecloth at your seat, and you wait. Eyeing the glasses at the placemats next you, you can tell a few drinks has been shared, raking your eyes over Abby’s looser disposition.

She’s happy, and charming. She’s been drinking bourbon. Mint, with ice and syrup, the way you serve it to her in her office, when the occasion calls for celebration. 

Her conversation finishes, her soft hands bidding gentle, kind goodbyes to the couple as they move on. She’s a friend to the people that matter.

“I expected you here before me.”

She doesn’t bother to look at you as she sits, instead fixing her napkin to her lap. You watch as the veins in her neck rise and fall as she talks, “Doesn’t matter now. Run me through everything.”

Right, fuck. You open your notebook and run your fingers over the scratchy writing. Your days leading up to this were spent copying details from obscure emails, tidbits you thought Abby needed to remember. Late nights at the office, life abandoned, deciphering biographies and 2 hour youtube deep dives. You can watch yourself fall asleep from the future, your handwriting slipping, long and longer strokes, spelling dissolving, long words abandoned. your pen fell to the floor, and you slept at your desk. Twenty missed calls. You argued when you came home in the morning.

“The Ambassador is arriving around 8:00pm with his new wife, also named Rebecca. Oh, Old Rebecca emailed asking why she didn’t receive an invitation.”

She’s slowly sipping at another whiskey, a different cocktail she ordered just as you’d arrived. The orange peel brushes her nose as she tilts the glass, her jaw tightens as she swallows, “Tell her the venue was at capacity. Send some flowers.”

It continues like this for a bit. Quiet and attentive, she listens to what you have to say, as her eyes follow the crowd. You too, spy people that you know, a few slimy execs that share a whisper and a boisterous laugh as they look your way. You order gin.

Soon enough, Abby checks her watch. An inexpensive, vintage piece of leather and quartz. She excuses herself with a measure of politeness. It’s time for an hour of speeches that don’t matter, before you’re finally allowed to eat. You sigh.

A quiet buzz rips through the growing silence. You open your clutch and hide your phone under the silk tablecloth, away from the disapproving elderly eyes.

i told u to leave me alone

jesus christ

A pit in your stomach. Dark, pressing, ever present. Your saliva is heavy in your mouth, and you feel like shrinking away. Luckily, the waiter isn’t far. Drinks are discounted for the company staff.

Finally, speeches finish. Abby looked nice on the stage, effervescent under the lights. Her hair catches warm light nicely in the strands.

The food comes, but people disregard it for shallow conversations. Plates are taken away full, apart from slim, polite pickings. Your table orders more drinks, and syrupy laughter echoes as anecdotes about private schools and hedge funds are shared. You don’t belong here. Your body becomes unsteady, restless. Your legs shaking, a hand finds you thigh in the veiled secrecy of the table cloth.

Abby’s not looking at you, too engaged in tipsy conversation to draw attention. A nice gesture, but it’s not. It’s wordless agreement. Her thumb traces the outside of your thigh mindlessly, her jaw clenching as she feels your gaze.

You hesitate.

What else did you have to do? Apart from go home and wait for an argument.

You let her touch you a little longer, soft, ghostly. It’s kind, unmistakably. You let yourself revel in it, in her uncommon affection, before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Abby follows not long after. She’s confident, her position charismatic, not unlike the other times she finds a drink, and then goes to find you. She doesn’t stop, so sure that you’ll follow her trail as you’ve done so often before. But you hesitate, again.

She turns back to you, a look on her face that’s hard to decipher. You stumble in your reasoning.

“It’s just-, my girlfrien-“

“Are you coming? Or not?”

Your palms itch, you swallow.

What kind of sick sacrifice. Unfair to have both, some would say, but some don’t know you. How wicked it is to taste both fruit and have to choose the sweeter. Fuck. The drinks settle in your stomach.

Your girlfriend wasn’t coming home tonight anyway, not really.

She’s leading you up the stairs, hands flush to her body. You grip the cold handrail to hold you steady. She’s already steps ahead, the appropriate distance. 

A quiet corner doesn’t need to be found. She’s been here before. You’ve been here before. The holy emptiness of the second floor is an accustomed comfort.

She’s quick and calculated, despite the mix of drinks on her breath. One hand pushing you to the wall, the other finding the zipper for your dress. It falls off you like it never belonged to you, kicked away and piled into a corner, forgotten.

Gripping you like you’d run away, she palms your tits and presses crescent moons into your hips. She holds her head away from you, watching you down her nose as you squirm. Abby has always remained detached, carefully groomed a distance between you that now feels too sacred to break. You long to feel her kiss you, to feel her intimately, to run your hands along her arms and feel every curve, every outline. You’ve needed to touch her since the moment you met her. Craved it.

Abby is disrespectful, impatient. She cups your pussy, still hidden in slick panties, letting the rough ball of her palm grind against your clit. It sets you on fire, and she chases it with a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Get rid of them.”

You strip fast, in a very unflattering way, you’re certain, and throw your underwear close to the ghost of your dress. She moves against you again, her hand softer as it wraps around your lips and cheeks. You look at her, hoping to see that softness echoed on her face, but her eyes are elsewhere, too focused on the movement your tits make as she holds you against the wall. 

Painstakingly, her fingers slide inside you, her hand pressing down on your mouth as you moan around the feeling of her, the intoxication. Your hands lock and unlock, your nails digging at scratching at the wood boards on the wall as you try to balance yourself.

Merciless. She rocks into you, letting you fall into step with her, find her pace, a relentless one. You feel her melting into your core, her fingers curling and stretching your walls as she pounds into you, again, again, again. You sound pathetic, behind the mask of her hand, whining as she leaves, and nearly screaming when she returns.

Abby watches as your face contorts around her fingers, feels you wrap around her. If she feels even a fraction of what she gives you, you wouldn't know. Her eyes remain unkind, left at a distance, but her breathing is staggered. short, laboured. she looks over you, you feel it, feel as her eyelashes rise as she rakes over your body.

You need it to be desire in her eyes. You need her to starve. To crave, like you do. Desperation.

Her hand moves from your mouth, your whimpering breath filling the room fast, the quiet broken. Her pace slows, and you almost rest on her fingers, left to wonder what she’s playing at. Instead, it comes down on your shoulder, still warm and wet with your breath, and she pushes you down onto her fingers, deep, deep. you feel her at the very centre of yourself, your eyes wide as the pressure builds inside you, her fingernails leaving a trail, evidence of her in your walls. She lets your ragged moans echo, hurt and pleasure. It’s an unkind end to things.

You don’t want to let it to end. You can’t.

The distance is broken. You reach out and grasp flesh, firm under your nails. You’re still riding the ecstasy pulse, the heat in your pussy, and Abby lets you stay, holding onto her as if you would fade otherwise. Your cheeks are almost touching, her breath hot on your ear, you hear her for the first time, raspy groans as you squeeze around her. She’s been holding back.

Damn it all.

“Everybody knows. Please. Please, fuck me like you know you should.”

You meet her gaze. Everything is foreign now. Her skin feels different to how you had imagined it. Softer. Her eyes are more uncertain, more than you’d ever seen before. Hesitance.

“Fuck it.”

Whiskey, and a sip of your gin, and tobacco. You didn’t even know she smoked, but you taste it on her like its the only thing she ever did. The smell of pine came in a wave as she moved, hooking her hands under your legs and hoisting you up. For months, you’ve yearned for her to kiss you, begged for it even. And now, her lips are rough, and bloody, and everywhere. Ghosts tracing your neck, unkind, stinging, exhilarating. 

She moves you to the floor without fuss, holding herself over you, your legs spread around her. She’s smiling, and you become so sure that there’s something not quite right with this side of Abby. You’re quickly aware that you’ve landed in hostile territory, vulnerable, needy.

She usually didn’t like it when you begged.

Her tongue is like the rapture on your clit, spitting fire through your veins, in your nerves. You feel it creep up in your body, twisting and tightening through you like something invasive, moans and prayers dripping from your lips that only push her. her name a curse, fallen on your body. You feel her laugh against your slick walls and it jolts you.

Abby, suddenly so aware of you, so kind, so attentive, shifts her posture, “Oh, you’re so needy.” A hand grabs your face, pulling it up from the floor in a dead lull. Her name rolls off your pretty lips once more, “What? You beg for me, and now you can’t take me?” Her tone is mocking, “Which is it? Hm?”

A cacophony. You, you, you. Your head foggy, unsure of what she wants to hear, you beg for again, telling her you can it take it. I can, please, abby.

Her laugh is cruel, mocking as her mouth finds you again, sending cold vibrations up your legs. Slut echoes against your clit.

Inside of you, she feels like a god. Her fingers stretching your walls, pressing deep against your centre at an excruciating pace, and her tongue lazily laps up all that you give her. 

“Fuck! Fu-uck, fuck!”

It’s clear to Abby that the caution she so carefully designed was useless now. People knew, and fuck it if they knew. Fuck it if they heard you dripping on her fingers, calling out her name. Fuck it if they stop the music, and turn to listen - fucking perverts - because it’s her. And you’re the one begging for her.

Stars creep in through the haze in your vision, and Abby’s trying to ask you something harsh, but you don’t hear it. You’re tethered to the feeling of her fingers, your whole body knotting around her like a planet in orbit of the sun. 

You’d burn if she wanted you to, happily.

You’re so fucking tight around her fingers, your legs shaking and a vicious call ripping through your body. Her Name.

The warmth from your body is too much, and the cool of the floor is lulling, soothing, as you collapse. Abby’s fingers leave you empty, incomplete. You whine as she leaves you, your walls tightening around the absence of her. She wipes your cotton slick on your leg.

She stands, and rolls her shoulders. Fixes the few hairs that fall out of place. Guiltless.

“Get dressed, before someone sees you.”

[sapphic-gardn]

i will

ellie williams x f!reader

summary: grief is complex and painful, ellie comforts you.

warnings: mentions of grief, nudity, ellie and reader take a bath together, mentions of boogers (yk when u have a runny nose from crying? yeah), no specific descriptions of reader other than having boobies and flesh, i dont think there is anything else but let me know!

word count: 1.3k

a/n: hi! i’ve returned from my hundred year long hiatus to torment you all. i started writing this comfort piece while i was experiencing life at Rock Bottom. i also found a lot of inspiration from the song i will by mitski <3 also thank you to @hier--soir for helping me with this one 💓 your writing inspires me, truly—i appreciate you tons & tons.

You find yourself curled up on the floor, the crisp breeze sweeping in from the crack under your front door. Chills dance over your skin, seeping into your body, coating your organs in a thin layer of ice. Your tears shed with a blue hue, painting your lips in a sheer lapis tint. Teeth chatter, bone against bone, reminders of the skeleton that is burrowed beneath layers of adipose tissue. Each exhale is accompanied by a dull ache.

Nights bring you here, disentangling your limbs from the warm confines of cotton sheets, calculated movements so as to not wake your girlfriend from slumber. The numbness creeps in through obscured dreams, visions of faces, now ghosts that haunt every distant memory. You emerge from the darkness, featherlight footsteps over creaky floors, loitering around the house amidst bewitching hours. You converse with the night sky, a one-sided interaction that mostly consists of your pleas—tell me why. Grief consumes you like tidal waves swallowing the shoreline. A mere particle of sand engulfed in foam, getting propelled further, further away from dry land.

The vibrations of Ellie’s bare feet padding on the wooden floor rumble through you. Her rasp breaks the silence. Baby—the only word that leaves her chapped lips, a pitiful tone leaking from her honeyed voice. Her hand caresses your tear stained cheek. Upon contact, a shrill sob rips through your larynx. You choke on anguish that rises like bile, it burns your esophagus as it creeps up.

Gentle hands guide your tenuous form to your feet, securing themselves at your sides. Subtle squeezes to the meat of your hips, wordlessly speaking—I’m here.

In your hazy state, you’re waltzed to the bathroom. One of Ellie’s hands fumbles with the light switch while she delicately maneuvers your entirety to sit upon the closed toilet seat. Cold porcelain hits the backs of your thighs, you hiss at the contact, a wince paints your expression. Ellie coos your name, a hushed thing that warms you from the inside. You study her features, a line forms between her furrowed brows, her green eyes searching for your own. Her gaze brings a settling feeling, something like a merciful wake up call. Ellie’s earthy scent mingles with the air. You inhale, the musky essence settles in your lungs, growing limbs and reaching for your heart; wrapping itself around the muscle in a tight embrace.

A tear slips past your waterline, her calloused thumb swiftly catches it as it trails down your cheek. A smile tugs at Ellie’s lips, “You’ve got boogers,” she gestures to your mucin coated upper lip with her pointer finger. An involuntary chortle escapes your mouth, alighting your saddened expression, “There she is, my pretty girl.”

Her focus shifts to the tub beside you, leaving the spot in front of you to turn the faucet on. Ellie peers over her shoulder to look back at you, “Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?”

Her digits fiddle with the running water as it warms, you examine the way her tendons tug at her knuckles, the freckled skin pulled taut with each swipe under the stream of water. Your eyes land on her side profile, you trace the shape of her nose and the protrusion of her pout like an etch a sketch to your brain. You count the freckles on her face, connecting them like constellations. Admiration blooms in your chest, you clutch your shirt where your heart beats faster.

Once the tub fills halfway, Ellie is undressing you—delicately tugging at the hem of your sleep shirt, pulling the thin material over the peaks and valleys of your body. Her touch is silken, it tickles your nerve endings, chills awaken beneath her fingertips. With each sliver of skin revealed, she whispers, beautiful, you’re so beautiful. And in these moments, you believe her, she utters the words with such conviction. You breathe with ease, allowing yourself to surrender to the woman disarming you.

She guides you towards the tub. Soft hands on your arm, your waist. That low, rasping voice in your ear, one foot, now the other… easy now, until you’re over the lip of the tub and being lowered into warm water. You let yourself sink a little lower, feel the water lap over your neck, your hair. You tilt your head back until everything is submerged except your face. Your eyes close, listening. You let the pressure of the water beat against your eardrums. Oceanic sounds bounce around inside your skull. For a split moment you are the sand and the sea, a shell burrowed in the earth.

When your eyes open, you meet the longing gaze of your partner. She admires the halo-shape your hair forms as it floats, the curve of your breasts breaking the surface, the way your tummy moves in waves with each steady inhale and exhale.

Your eyes wander to where Ellie is stepping out of her boxers, peeling her worn tank top over her auburn bed head, discarding the article in the tile. Her focus never falters from you. She looks so beautiful like this, the soft white light casting an illuminating glow to her supple skin. You sit up, folding your legs in, scooting forward—silent invitations. With two long strides, Ellie’s lanky limbs are climbing into the tub behind you. Your bodies mingle, arms and legs tangle and untangle, an uncoordinated tango.

Ellie surrounds you, she is everywhere. The warmth radiating from her coats every inch of your flesh like a blanket. Her thighs are pressed up against the sides of your own, caging you in, the physical security plucking away at your guardedness. Slippery arms snake around your middle, a vice grip pressing you against her front. You feel her heartbeat thump against your ribcage, feel her chest rise and fall with each breath. A connection so primal, so powerful, tethering you to her. Her lips graze the crook of your neck, a sigh escapes you, releasing the tension held in your abdomen. Taught muscles unfurl; a calmness washes over your senses.

Ellie begins to hum, short breaths tickling the shell of your ear. You recognize the song, familiar but just out of reach.

“What are you singing, baby?”

Ellie hushes you, “Shh, shh, just listen to me.”

Her gravelly tone recites the lyrics, “When all my hair turns grey, enter our twilight years,” you listen intently, the song bubbling at the forefront of your mind. A memory plays, placing a fragile disc in your record player, the needle spinning in its grooves, Ellie excitedly rehashing how she found it on patrol.

Both of you sat on the couch that night and tuned in, entwined and entranced. During the fourth song, Ellie stood, offering a hand—dance with me. And so, your bodies swayed around the living room as one entity. “And our friendships slip away, finding it hard to hear.”

Ellie memorized the lyrics, serenading you for weeks, “No I’ll never be afraid, as long as I still have you,” confessing her feelings through the Alessi Brothers.

And now, she croons the same song, “Together in an ocean of life / Just yours and mine / Motionless time / Love is the answer to eternal life.” Easing your mind, caroling the words that never come easy to her in conversation. Reminders of the fire you alight within her, the tenderness you pull out of her.

She is the breeze, the fierce wind that wrestles with the water. She reels you in from the deep end, a lifeline cast before you take your final breath. Her presence is a sanctuary, your vulnerability takes refuge in her arms—your safe haven.

[end]

a/n: hiii!! if you read this all the way through, thank you! it’s my first time posting an ellie fic so i’m a liiiitle nervous eeee! also im a little rusty on my writing so forgive me if this sucks 🧍🏽‍♀️ and i gave up on editing my last read through bc i need to get this fic out or i will never post it

i have an ellie series and a one shot planned out so hopefully it won’t take me a lifetime to post those!!! okieee byeeee 💓

tagging moots: @ilovepedro @gracieheartspedro @undrthelights @daydreamingmiller @chaotic-mystery @cavillscurls @amanitacowboy (idk who else to tag i dont have an official taglist lol why is this so embarrassing)

[aventurinemylove]

FIRST TIME REQUESTING! So I have no clue if you're okay with what I'm ganna ask?

May I ask for a angst to fluff. (Only if you're okay with both in the request! unless you want it to be full angst) Like where reader/ y/n is near death (again only if your okay with it) wiith Dazai and Chuuya. (If you wish to add another one that's your choice!) It can be either a headcanon or short fic. Whichever one your more confterble with!

(Ps I love your smau au!)

Have a nice day/night/afternoon (it's 3:10 a.m for me 💀) but anyways if you can't accept my request I understand! But take care of yourself. ♡

A/n- OMG YOU DONT KNOW HOW FAST I GOT UP AND STARTED WRITING TYSM FOR THE REQ OMG AND IM GLAD YOU LIKE THE SMAU😭🫶

Close call

Dazai x reader and chuuya x reader (separate)

Genre-angst and fluff

Warnings- heavy topics, torture, blood, mori…

Songs to listen-skyfall adele,I bet on losing dogs mitski,francis forever mitski

Osamu Dazai

You were sent on a mission by yourself by Fukuzawa to gather information on a rival organization. You knew the risks of this but you were willing to risk it To give the Ada any type of advantage. Before your mission dazai told you to be more cautious about everyone and everything, he had a pitiful feeling in his stomach..the same feeling when he lost his dear friend, which left him wondering if his past finally catching up to him?

Ever since you left the feeling only got worse and worse, he couldn’t take it anymore it was eating him alive he felt a sense of guilt, and for the first time in year, he felt fear..? Something might have happens to you..days without contact or even texts all his texts were delivered you never left him on delivered. He couldn't take it anymore and decided he will look for you himself.

Meanwhile, you haven't texted Dazai due to leaving your work phone at the ADA in order to not cause any suspicion between you and your new boss however you couldn't stay like this forever he saw you rummaging through classified files which ended up with you having to reveal your identity causing you to fight. What surprised you was the ambush from behind which ended up with u getting stabbed in the chest and losing conscious.

Once he got there he was late...your body on the ground bleeding profusely, he couldn't believe it he failed you. The person he vowed to serve and protect you only to fail you. His heart aches at seeing you so motionless so still. He couldn't even form a word he couldn't even stand on his feet. “You're not gone [name] right..” his voice filled with sorrow and disbelief. If only he came earlier..he could've prevented this he wouldn’t have lost you.

He ran to your body and held it..for the first time in years he couldn’t mask his emotions how could he..you were special to him the only one keeping on this ground, but now that your gone he has no will to live no reason to be here. “[name] I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, you didn’t deserve this awful fate my love..I’m sorry”. You were still conscious you heard everything how u you wish you can tell him “everything’s going to be okay” but honestly not even you knew if your going to make it”

Dazai held u so close running towards the nearest hospital he could find without any second thought begging every doctor to treat you before it was to late. He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were unconscious, atsushi brought Dazai food and made sure to give him company and any ounce of hope he had.

It was almost a month since that event you haven’t woken up not even once…this left Dazai terrified he only thought of the worst outcome. Though before u hit one month of being unconscious you woke up, every emotion hitting you but the one hitting you the most was shock and fear. You couldn't believe you were alive, and you also wondered who brought you to the hospital but soon realization and memories hit you. Dazai found you laying unconscious, you couldn't help but have guilt. Your poor husband finding you unconscious and unresponsive was a horror to think about.

You were so deep in thought you didn't notice Dazai practically tugging you into a hug crying his eyes out on your shoulder. [name] my love I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you, I'm sorry I failed you I was so scared, I was so scared of you leaving me like everyone” he said between broken sobs. “Dazai dear I'm sorry for being so careless I really should've seen it coming” you say through your tears.

To say the least, dazai is happy you're alive and that's all that matters to him.

Nakahara Chuuya

You and Gin were sent on a mission personally requested by Mori, which was odd since usually, he would have you take missions with Chuuya since he had his suspicions here and there. You always found your boss “odd” he always figured out things even he was told which was a scary thought.

On the mission, you were told to play a fair person and your objective was to woe the victim over and that's when Gin strikes. Though it was easier said than done, during the night you felt like something was coming for you or that you were being watched but you pushed your thoughts away for the sake of the mission. You found something quite odd about your victim he looks like a former mafia member though you've never seen him, you feel like his name was mentioned somewhere.

Fortunately, before the night ended you got the victim to think that you were an innocent person trying to get help from him for your company on how to grow it etc. But he knew you were from the mafia he had his eyes on you ever since you stepped in, he knew Mori would send an executive to assassinate him during this party. You had a feeling that your facade was seen through like clear glass, which made the gut feeling start to tell you “leave” or “go home” but you knew being in the mafia your life was always on risk.

Chuuya on the other hand was sweating and shaking something was telling him to watch over you that night, he had a feeling Mori had some plan since usually he would send him with you and no one else. So while you and Gin were on your way to the party he followed you guys but decided to stay hidden until he felt he was needed.

You were unexpectedly brought a handkerchief to your mouth making you pass out. Otherwise, Gin was concerned about what could have happened to you, you weren't giving her any sign to strike..unless the struck first which had her panicking since she also didn't see the host anywhere. She Knew something was wrong, so through her headset she let everyone know “Code red, our executive is missing”. Just hearing this made Chuuya jump and head to the party area before he knew it, he was frantically searching for you everywhere in the area but had no luck he couldn't find you and this made him more frustrated he couldn't believe he took his eyes off you for a bit and you were MISSING.

It was days maybe 3 days since the incident they had you tied to a chair with handcuffs tied to both hands making it impossible to use your ability. You were so beat up all these days tortured just for some information you didn't have. “Now where is that supply box” he spoke, another hit towards your ribs but you stayed silent. “OH SO WE ARE GONNA PLAY THE SILENT GAME ARE WE?!” he says but before you were hit again the doors of the area were crushed open before you knew it Gin ran to you and untied you, and carried you to the truck where they already had a medical professional on board.

Meanwhile, chuuya made sure this man was dead and he made sure that he paid for what he did to you. Chuuya had rage in him, the state he found you in made me sick and sad, how could this asshole do this to you. After his job was chuuya got back to the truck where the doctor talked to him. “Sir they will be unconscious for a few days maybe a few hours if lucky but they had a few broken ribs and a few bruises to the head”. He couldn't believe what he heard, he felt the rage he had earlier come back to him, but he kept his composer just nodded to the doctor.

He was now facing you he felt his heart shatter to 100 pieces the pain and guilt he felt was eating him alive. “If only I got there earlier” or “I should've taken the mission but compared to other missions this was one of the least dangerous. He knelt near your bed while holding your hand slowly letting the tears down.

After 3 days you finally open your eyes looking around the unfamiliar room it looked nothing like the mafia hospital room which relieved you, you didn't have to deal with mori and his annoying overbearing antics, how u hated him and wanted someone to take his spot.

While lost in thought u turn to see flowers and a note on the bedside, you grabbed them smiling to yourself already knowing who it was. As you looked at the flowers you open the note slightly smiling as you read. “My dearest [name] I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you as I vowed to you I will, so after you feel better let me take you out to eat, sincerely yours Chuuya Nakahara” but before you finished you saw the end “ps I’ll visit you later I'm on a mission right now”. You never knew how you got lucky with such a man but honestly, it did take you guys a while to be where you are at right now.

Later…

You were sitting down reading a book when you heard the hospital door bust open, at first you thought it was an enemy attack but you were relieved to see Chuuya at the door with a little box at hand. “My love” you heard Chuuya speak “I got you this,” he says as he gives you the box. You were shocked, to be honest, you weren't expecting anything so when u recognized the jewelry box you began to cheer up. “Thank you dear you didn't have to,” you say smiling at him while opening the box, to your surprise there was a gorgeous necklace that you'd been wanting for a while but couldn't get your hands on it, so it was surprising to see Chuuya get ahold of such an item.

You felt your eyes start to tear up as you pulled Chuuya into a tight hug and whispered “Thank you my love I couldn't ask for someone more amazing than you”. Chuuya was surprised by your sudden action but didn't complain at all. “My love I'm sorry for not being there on time,” Chuuya said his voice cracking “If maybe I was there earlier this could've been avoided”. “Chuuya it's ok, I'm fine I'm here with you look on the bright side at least we got him” you say softly.

Chuuya knew you were right, he was just happy you were alive and with him still.

[b0nes-mcgee]

It’s time for music headcanons with the batfam, bc if I don’t get this out of my head and onto page, I’m going to implode.

Fave first, Dick is definitely a indie pop/indie rock kinda boy. Not just because I identify with that, but also bc he gives me those overly energetic, bubbly vibes, that I feel like only come from Grouplove, Vampire Weekend, and Adam Melchor. I also feel like he’s a Mitski and Boygenius kinda bitch, bc ough, boY, he has angst. Said angst can only be expressed through sad girl music, bc he will die before he ever expresses his feelings about anything to anyone.

NEXT we have Jason, I think he’s an emo ass boy, ngl, but specifically like folk punk. He listened to twin sized mattress one time, broke down crying, and hasn’t looked back. Also things like The Mountain Goats, PUP, or Modern Baseball. Ugh, I could make a whole ass playlist for this boy. If he’s with other ppl, I think he’d play something more mainstream of the emo genres, like Arctic Monkeys or The Strokes.

DAMIAN, I THINK, IS COMPLICATED. So, for one thing, he grew up in a weirdo environment, where they probably never listened to music, and if they did, it was “”tasteful”” music, for rich ppl. That, or it was culturally significant. So, I think I’m his exposure to music after moving in with Bruce, he started just absorbing absolutely all the music he could. Like, he’s an everything enjoyer. His spotify liked songs are a minefield, bc one second it’ll be playing Chet Baker, next it’s Viagra Boys, then some country shit, then Chopin, and then it’s Lil Nas X.

BABS, I think, would be a folk music/sad girl music enthusiast. She really likes Ryan Adams, Phoebe Bridgers, Hoizer, Mitski, etc. It’s something that she and Dick bonded over when they first started dating. I think with her, she appreciates the calm/slightly sad music bc she lives in a rlly crazy world, and she just wants to meditate a little when she’s sitting at that desk all day, trying to keep her family and friends alive.

Timmyyyyyy is a Kpop enjoyer. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. Specifically, he probably likes SEVENTEEN or ATEEZ a lot. He actively tries, every day of his life, to not stan any of the members, but it’s rlly hard when he’s had two hours of sleep in the past week, and Yoon was just really cute in that last interview. I also think he’s really into trap and pop. He knows all the lyrics to every recent song on the top 100 list.

Duke, I think is really into R&B. I think he’s amenable to pop/rock/rap, etc., but he really just wants something to belt out. Common occurrences are finding him in the kitchen, making an omelette, singing Amy Winehouse at the top of his lungs. If u catch him doing it tho, he gets rlly shy. His guilty pleasure is theatre music. He has to bribe his family to go see Little Shop of Horrors with him.

Stephanie has a 2000s-2010s pop addiction. Anything that makes her feel like Hannah Montana is her SHIT. She’s out here blasting Bubblegum Bitch and early Taylor Swift. You also can and will find her crying to sad One Direction songs. When she’s moody, she will unironically play My Chemical Romance. She understands pop punk a lil bit, but the lyrics tend to get male-manipulator-y, so she sticks with the bands she already knows.

Alfred likes 50s/60s jazz/pop. Frank Sinatra, Chet Baker, etc. It reminds him of home, and of his family. He also really likes old French music, like Joe Dassin. I’m ngl, I don’t know old music enough to add more to this one, but u get the idea 😭

BRUCE. Ugh. He’s definitely the kind of dad who never moved past the music of his childhood. He firmly believes that the Beatles is the best band of all time, and no one can convince him otherwise. I think he tends to gravitate towards the rock/goth end of 70s/80s music, so things like the Cure, New Order, maybe a lil bit of Siouxsie and the Banshees. His goth phase was INTENSE, Alfred can attest to this.

Edit: HOLY SHIT I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT CASS 😭😭😭

Ok, Cass is defo a similar situation to Damian, grew up with literally silence, so music is a super new thing to her. But I think she really enjoys all kinds of genres. I think that especially instrumentals get her, bc it’s just noises that she can focus on, no lyrics to distract her from the sound. I think she also likes to “sing” along to said instrumentals, but mostly it’s just making noises to the same beat and sound, but it’s very off-key.

[jesslovesboats]

It's the most wonderful time of the year- time for @terrortracks! I'll post my playlists here, along with covers and liner notes or at least a little bit of insight into why I chose these specific tracks.

First up is my playlist for Day 1- explorer of choice!

If you've been here longer than 5 minutes, you know that my favorite expedition is the Karluk, but my favorite guy is actually Joseph Stenhouse, of Ross Sea Party fame. I've never related to a polar guy more, and I project onto him in a way that is probably less than healthy. There's a reason he's the sun sign in my explorerscope.

ANYWAY, he is best known for getting the Aurora back to safety and for sinking u-boats with his bestie Frank Worsley during the war. Later in his life, though, he served as the captain of the Discovery during the Discovery Oceanographic Expeditions of 1925-1927! This was a bad time for everyone involved, as Stennie was fighting with the scientific team non-stop, witnessing absolutely horrific animal cruelty at the Grytviken whaling station, dealing with his own crippling anxiety, depression, and (probable) PTSD, and coming to the painful realization that the age of sail was over and the skills he dedicated his life to perfecting were no longer valuable or necessary. It was an impossibly hard pill to swallow.

This playlist features songs about feeling awkward, out of place, uncomfortable, sad, too old, and not enough. I'm sure none of you can relate to that- me neither!

1. ballad of a homeschooled girl- Olivia Rodrigo

I broke a glass, I tripped and fell, I told secrets I shouldn't tell I stumbled over all my words, I made it weird, I made it worse Each time I step outside, it's social suicide

2. Ashamed- Deer Tick

Murdered my throat, screaming bloody all night Hit him with a book and how he crumbles So, you should have seen how the arches tumble They're golden no more, now I'm smiling in my blood I'm caught in a whirlwind, I'm going to heaven I'm standing on trial and it's painted on canvas An eternal testament to how we are so animalistic

3. Crack Baby- Mitski

Crack baby, you don't know what you want But you know that you had it once And you know that you want it back Crack baby, you don't know what you want But you know that you're needing it And you know that you need it bad

4. Mariners Apartment Complex- Lana Del Ray

They mistook my kindness for weakness I fucked up, I know that, but Jesus Can't a girl just do the best she can? Catch a wave and take in the sweetness Think about it, the darkness, the deepness All the things that make me who I am

5. Calamity Song- The Decemberists

And you've receded into loam And they're picking at your bones Will call cold We'll come home

6. Bite The Hand- boygenius

Here's the best part distilled for you But you want what I can't give to you Your hands are gravity while my hands are tied

7. Ship To Wreck- Florence and the Machine

What's with the long face? Do you want more? Thousands of red-eyed mice, scratching at the door And don't let the curtain catch you, cause you've been here before The chair is an island, darling, you can't touch the floor

8. A Better Son/Daughter- Rilo Kiley

And sometimes when you're on, you're really fucking on And your friends they sing along and they love you But the lows are so extreme, that the good seems fucking cheap And it teases you for weeks in its absence But you'll fight and you'll make it through You'll fake it if you have to And you'll show up for work with a smile You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up And a better daughter or son And a real good friend

[bigbumder96]

account introduction thing!!!??

ngl i feel a bit goofy doing this🙁forgive me if this is weird, im used to getting attacked on tiktok for literally nothing (i rarely use tumblr)

general:

name: darcie

age: im a minor😭

gender: girl (she/her :3 )

sexuality: lesbian

from/live in: england unfortunately😣 east london specifically, or essex depending on if u focus on the postcode or the london borough😭 officially its east london tho

interests:

tv shows:

- the inbetweeners

- white gold

- station 19 (still have to catch up on the latest episode lmao

- 9-1-1 (also still have to catch up one episode😭)

- fresh meat

- ted lasso

- heartbreak high (both the old version and the reboot !!! i dont prefer one over the other, although i do tend to post about the 90s one more lmaooo)

- friday night dinner

- this country

- call the midwife

- ackley bridge

- baby reindeer (i wouldnt exactly call it an interest, this show fucking traumatised me, but i watched it like last week😭)

- phoenix rise

- moment of eighteen (a k-drama btw!!)

- move to heaven (also a k-drama!!)

- there she goes

- benidorm

- skins (only gen 2 tho im afraid😞)

- the inBESTigators (dont judge lmfao😭😭😭)

- little lunch (i cant theyre js both such good shows)

- dodo (a cartoon)

- taskmaster (only season eight tho for the icon joe thomas‼️)

- mr bigstuff

- supacell

im currently watching derry girls and jamie johnson atm !!

films:

- the shawshank redemption

- the green mile

- goodbye charlie bright (my absolute fav omg)

- the business

- the football factory (theyre making the sequel to this at my school im so happy i love nick love films😍i didnt see nick love himself tho💔)

- good will hunting

- bohemian rhapsody

- dead mans shoes

- ferris buellers day off

- harry brown

- little miss sunshine

- the inbetweeners movie

- the inbetweeners 2

- white chicks

- the basketball diaries

- mid90s

- spiderman: into the spider-verse

- spiderman: across the spider-verse

music:

- alex g (fav song: too many to put here, but if i had to pick then prolly the whole race, trick, and rules album😭)

- tv girl (fav song: better in the dark, louise, and daughter of a cop)

- the fratellis (fav song: i honestly dk, i havent gotten that much into them yet😣i js listened to one of their albums and played fifa)

- the killers (fav song: read my mind and andy youre a star)

- the smiths (fav song: girl afraid, bigmouth strikes again, and this night has opened my eyes. guys i swr i liked them songs before they got popular im acc rly annoyed at the tiktofication of bigmouth strikes again and this night has opened my eyes😣)

- queen (fav song: spread your wings and long away)

- the stone roses (fav song: i wanna be adored and made of stone. basic i know😣😣)

- the jam (fav song: down in the tube station at midnight, david watts, and man in the corner shop)

- oasis (live forever. icba to type ‘fav song’ anymore😭)

- mac the knife (here to stay)

- mitski (why didnt you stop me, goodbye my danish sweetheart, me and my husband, your best american girl, once more to see you, etcetera…)

extras:

- im into football and i am a big arsenal fan !!!! my fav player is def martin ødegaard, and i may or may not be one of those deluded emile smith-rowe fans who think that hes gonna have a huge comeback and be like he was two seasons ago🤫🤫🤫

(edit: im gonna kms he left arsenal🙁)

i also support england as a country (obviously) plus a tad bit of dagenham amd redbridge, because they are my local ! (before you call me a glory hunter, ive supported arsenal since i was 3 because thats what my mum and grandparents support!!! also its a bit hard to support your local when not all the games are televised and you cant afford a season ticket, not to mention i had no clue who dagenham and redbridge were when i was choosing a football team, because i had no clue how leagues worked and i didnt gaf about football tbh💀)

- i like webtoons! my fav is jacksons diary, our walk home, and crystal city killers😱 (please does anyone have any cute wlw webtoon recs im so desperate)

- in year seven my drama teacher made us watch a play (on the screen, not irl) called slowtime but we didnt get to finish it💔my teacher spoiled the ending but i didnt care and tracked down the rest of that video bcs slowtime is such a good play i love everything abt it😍

- last year i was obsessed with this book series called football academy (written by tom palmer) and it was genuinely so good but there was nobody myp age cuz it was for kids💔i dont rly read them anymore, but the interest is still there if someone by chance has read them please contact me and have a conversation with me about it🙏🙏🙏

- i also have a very obscure interest about london boroughs??? like i dont even know a lot about them, i just love talking about/watching videos about london boroughs... i blame the lb guy on tiktok

i apologise as this was very long, and i probably wont even post that much😭 sorry for the yapping tho🙏🙏🙏

[turnonyrlovelight]

also. i bet on losing dogs mitski ......... that song has had me in such a chokehold for so long n i'm thinking abt the blues brothers now.

"i know they're losing and i paid for my place by the ring/so i can look into their eyes when they're down/i'll be there by their side/i'm losing by their side" makes me think sm abt throughout the movies how jake, elwood, curtis n buster r the losing dogs, the way they can't seem to get a break or get something good, or keep something for a long time- whether it be the orphanage, a parental figure [looking at u buster] or a family. they're always losing. sister mary, cab and mack are betting on losing dogs. they know they're losing, they know the blues brothers can't catch a break, yet they stay with them.

"i'm losing by their side" they lose too, with the battle of the bands, the palace hotel, joliet, the orphanage, but not in the same scale, not in the way that they have to restart their lives over and over and over again like the blues brothers.

"i always want you when i'm finally fine" this lyric reminds me of camille, in the sense that her and jake's relationship would've been very intense, as the both of them are very intense, but not in a good way- in the way where it makes you feel good, but you know it's bad. them deciding to get married and jake running off, camille chasing him and trying to get him back, but trying to kill him, jake on his knees begging her not to, but he still has that little bit of compassion. they both do, but they weren't the right people for each other.

in conclusion ??? i bet on losing dogs .......... mitski u kill me a million times with every album u make

[firefly--bright]

belonging.

jean kirstein x gender neutral! reader (they/them pronouns used)

academic frenemies to lovers, modern au

how was he so good at everything? how did he manage all of it? how did he make you feel like this? how did he see you?

warnings : strained parental relationships, highschool angst, academic pressure, mild eren yeager slander.

a/n : holy shit this turned out longer than i intended it to. making a part two but it might take a while cause i have exams (how perfect) coming up soon :'). anyway, i hope you like this one, kinda self projected alot jdkwjfls im okay i was listening to mitski and hozier while writing this can u tell

tagging : @chuusposts , @a10vely-yutazen (sorry for the late tag!)

• main masterlist is pinned! • taglist is open! • fic playlist •

“the test wasn’t that hard, you know?” you say, completely aware that you were being petty, but god it felt good to be better than him at something.

“I never said it was hard,” he mutters under his breath.

“you submitted it late.” You reply snarkily, seeing his ears heat up in embarrassment.

“whatever, we’ll see how the grades are. Don’t you have anyone else to annoy?” he asks, and you know you’ve won by the way he says ‘whatever’ with the roll of his eyes.

The way he always did when he didn’t have a point to make.

You smiled slightly, pettily, but satisfied. You knew you did well.

You walked to your next lecture after collecting your books, yawning in the process. God, you needed some well deserved sleep. Maybe even watch a movie or two consecutively. But you couldn’t. you felt like you had a target on your back if you took even the slightest bit of a break, or had even the slightest bit of a social life. It didn’t make sense how Jean had both, all from what it looked like, and was still doing good in school. Good enough to compete with you, that was.

Hey, atleast you were doing better than last year.

You took a seat near the window, not paying attention to the way Jean was looking at you while entering the classroom.

It baffled you. how was he able to manage having it all? popularity, no matter how much of a social construct it was, people who loved him, and good looks? you couldn’t even deny it. He had almost everyone in Shingeki High wrapped around one of his knobby fingers that lent you a pencil last year. You didn’t blame them, he was the reason the school won almost every year, the reason everyone who lost hope during the game found their strength again to play. He was the one who persuaded Marco Bodt to rejoin the team. Marco Bodt, too, was like him, just less in the spotlight. He didn’t like the spotlight, you realised.

You didn’t blame him. it wasn’t like you didn’t want attention, but it seemed like the moment you had it, you got anxious, palms sweaty, breath heavy, the whole nine yards.

You didn’t notice Jean slipping his backpack next to your seat until your teacher started teaching the new topic.

You did notice, however, how he kept glancing at you. was there something on your face?

You rubbed your nose, then your cheeks. You adjusted your hair, too, just in case. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with your appearance. Maybe Kirstein had a staring problem. He used to stare at Mikasa a lot, too, before she got hitched with Yeager. A true tragedy in Shingeki High.

You tried to pay attention to whatever Mr. Smith was teaching, but considering the fact that you got almost no sleep last night studying for the test, and the fact that Jean was now shamelessly staring at either you or something out the window, you couldn’t.

You could catch up though. You’d already read the chapter he was currently prefacing.

“alright, class, I know you will be dreading this, but I will be giving everyone a group project,” Mr. Smith’s voice boomed, as the class erupted in low chatter. Everyone turned to the people they knew, but your face remained motionless.

You wanted this to be over with. You wanted, no, needed a fucking break.

Bet your brother didn’t need a fucking break, your mind whispers.

“I will be assigning everyone their partners.” Mr. Smith spoke up. everyone groaned, as jean’s head turned towards you again.

You joined the collective groan, as you turned to the boy sitting next to you. “why the fuck do you keep staring at me, kirstein?” you ask in a harsh whisper.

Jean shrugs, “you seem tired.”

What?

He noticed?

More importantly, he cared?

You tried not to show how flustered it made you feel. Big deal, he did the bare minimum. Besides, it was obvious you were tired, it wasn’t like you were trying to actively hide it. At least, you weren’t anymore.

“well, I am. a little. I just need sleep.” You mutter, and you know he heard it, but he continues to look at you with… pity? pride?

no. resolve.

His brows furrowed, his jaw locked, his hands resting on the table. you had seen that look before, while he was taking tests. The same face he made while he was at practice and you were under a tree, drawing the scenery before you.

You shivered slightly. Because of the wind form the window. Yeah, the wind.

Jean turns his head to the board again, as mr. smith names pairs of students to do the project together. You didn’t know what jean was going to do, but you knew he would do it. Jean Kirstein, a man of his word.

“yeah. You need sleep, it shows.”

Ah, yes. Jean Kirstein, an honest man.

You rolled your eyes.

“jean kirstein and (y/f/n).” you heard, snapping you out of whatever daze you were in.

Fucking amazing.

Jean turns to you again, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as you will yourself to not look at his pretty face. “goodie. Can't wait to do everything by myself.”

The bell rings, and you pack up whatever you had laying around.

“be my fucking guest.” You say to him as you walk away.

He, of course, follows. “what, you want me to take credit for it? Would that look good on your report, (l/n)?”

"my report would still better than yours after it, so.” You snap back. You really were not in the mood for this. “when do you want to meet up for the project?” you ask, “will after school today work for you?”

You hated to admit it, but this was probably the only “break” you’d get. Your parents only ever let you go out if it was for studying, and even that was rare, since they claimed they didn’t trust anyone in your school enough to let you go off with them.

But jean, however, had seen your parents. He had managed to charm them, even, at your middle school’s science fair, with his big words and sources and incredible topic. If you told your parents you were with the boy that got second place in the competition, they would maybe allow you to take some time in the café, away from them.

jean winced, “cant do today, sweetheart. Got practice. Tomorrow, though? Does that work for you?” he asks. You weren’t sure if he was trying to get you flustered or mad because of the nickname, but nevertheless, you were both.

“yeah, im free tomorrow. Have fun at practice. Don’t trip and fall on those untied shoelaces.” You say, glancing at his feet, speed walking away before he could reply.

You turned around only a bit, seeing him check his shoes, marco bodt standing behind him and looking at him confused.

You turned ahead and allowed a small smirk.

--

You tried your best to not focus on your mother’s words, you really did. But by god it was harder to do that by the second.

“you know, when I was small, younger than you, people would see my art and want to copy it,” she boasted, holding your sketchbook. “I was really good.”

“well I guess I inherited it from you then, huh?” you ask, deciding to humour her, the edge in your voice was sharp enough to cut paper.

“you still have a long way to go.” She says.

She gets up from her place on your bed, leaving a dip in your mattress. “anyway, what fruit should I cut up for you? and don't ask for watermelon, the season for that has passed.”

“im not hungry. I had coffee.” You say, turning back to your homework as you hear her say something about how coffee will shorten your life span while walking away.

You glanced out the window and sighed. The clouds were pretty grey today, and you wondered if it was going to rain. You wondered if you should go out for a run if the gloomy weather subsided. Maybe if your brother was up for it, you could take his car and go to the pizza place a block away late at night.

The pizza was pretty crappy, but it was the only time your brother and you ever held a conversation. Whether it was about your school, his college, some show you were watching, anything.

You were glad you both put your differences aside after you turned 14. He was the only one who ever made you feel seen with parents who made you feel like you didn’t exist for majority of your childhood.

It was nice. You hoped he wasn’t in one of his crappy moods tonight.

A notification rang from your phone. Assuming it was just a spam number, you went back to writing the essay you had to write for English, legs shaking under your table.

Another notification.

You ignored it once again.

Your phone vibrated twice, indicating that you were getting a call this time.

Finally snapping out of your focus, you turned to your phone to see the words ‘jean kirstein physics’ calling you.

Oh, yeah. You forgot you had his number since the last time you were paired up with him.

You picked up, rolling your chair far enough for you to lean back and stretch your legs.

“hello?” you spoke into your speaker.

“hey, practice got cancelled ‘cause it looks like it’ll rain. Do you wanna hang out?” he asks, and you can hear soft music playing in the background.

You shrug . “yeah, sure. Also, we wont be ‘hanging out’, Kirstein, we need to work.”

You can hear his smirk again. he never tries hiding it, atleast not when he’s speaking to you with that cocky tone. “whatever you say, sweetheart. Come on, get ready. im out your door.”

Your eyes widen as you roll towards your window, seeing his car infront of your room. “how the fuck?”

You can see him wave through the window of his car. He’s leaning forward slightly, his hand resting on the steering wheel as he waves with its, his phone in the other hand. He’s smiling.

“I know your address from last time, babe. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You roll your eyes as you flip him off through your window. “ill be down in ten. Oh, say hi to my mom before you pick me up. she’ll think im using you as an excuse.”

“oh? You’ve used me as an excuse?”

“no, dumbass, I don’t need to. She’ll think I am, though. Also I think she likes you. or, she tolerates you more than Ash, anyway. Something about their hair makes her bitchy.” You check your door to make sure its closed.

You hear him laugh. A swarm of butterflies make their home in your belly. You slip a small smile of your own. “okay, then. I’ll say hi. be downstairs quick, though.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

True to his word, jean kirstein does knock on the door to let her know he’s the one picking you up. your mom doesn’t complain as you slip your shoes on, which you assume is a good thing.

You save him just in time, though, as your mom smothers him with questions youre sure he hasn’t thought about yet. His face and shoulders relax when you tell him you should leave.

“bye, ma. Be back by 9.” You say.

“8 o clock! No more!” you hear her shout as you close the door.

“well that went better than I thought it would.” You tell jean, who has a hand on his heart, eyes still wide.

His neck snaps towards you, and you try not to laugh at his expression. He continues to walk towards his car as you trail behind him.

“well? That’s well for you? jeez, I felt like I’d have a heart attack with all the questions,” he exclaims. You put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him relax under your slight touch.

“you’ll live.”

He opens your passenger door for you to slip in. you thank him quietly, letting yourself get comfortable in his car. His cologne was even more present in his car, and a poloroid of him and his friends hung from a string from his rearview mirror. The flash was bright, and you recognized most of them. Jean had his arms around sasha braus and connie springer, as armin alert squatted infront of them, sporting a bright smile of his own. Behind the trio was marco bodt, smiling, ofcourse. You doubted you had ever seen him not smiling and you wondered how he didn’t get tired. mikasa was next to armin, squatting and laughing at eren yeager, who tried to squat but was falling down as the picture was being taken. On armin’s left was annie leonheart, with her hands in her hoodie pockets, a slight smile playing on her lips. rare of her to do, but not unusual when she was with armin.

You hadn’t talked to armin well in about a year. The last time you had talked to him was the winter formal as a sophmore, where you both agreed you’d be better of as friends anyway.

He didn't reply to your texts much after that.

Jean slipped into his seat, buckling himself in.

He hands you his phone. Taking it, you look at him questioningly. He cracks his neck, running a hand through his hair as he speaks, “play whatever music you’d like.”

Surprised he’d trust you with the greatest honour of letting you pick music, you played a song you knew he’d like, hoping he hadn’t listened to it already. The music flowed through the car as did the cool air from the ac.

“where are we heading?” you ask as jean starts driving. His left hand, the one he has doodles on, grips the steering wheel while he drives, as his right one rests on the gear, his fingers thrumming against it to the beat of the song.

“do you remember that café from last time? There.”

You take a moment to sit in stunned silence. Jean didn’t seem to realise that you were basking in a new feeling.

He remembered?

It wasn’t a surprise that you remembered, considering that their coffees were one of the most expensive yet the best tasting coffees you had ever had. You remembered him paying for you. maybe that’s why he remembered? there was nothing memorable about the last time you got paired up with him, if you thought about it. You genuinely thought he had forgotten about the place.

But as it turned out, he did not forget.

“oh. The one with the expen-“

“expensive coffee you really liked? Yeah. Honestly, theyre more of milkshakes than coffee, but to each to their own, I guess.” He says, glancing at you before taking a turn.

“of course you wouldn’t appreciate the good coffee,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “which ones do you like, anyway? Black coffee to be pretentious and feel grown up?"

“hey, black coffee is good!” he exclaims.

“predictable,” you mutter under your breath, knowing he had heard you anyway.

He shakes his head, gaze still locked on the road. “I don’t really like their coffee. I can stand their cheesecake though. And hey, if anyone’s pretentious here, its you. youre the one who likes their coffees” he says, arguing childishly. In his defence, you were technically enabling it.

A smile plays on your lips, “its not like go there all the time! Only for a treat.”

“a treat? So, like, everyday?”

“haven’t been there since three months, actually. And the last time I did go, like a couple weeks ago, they were closed.” You defended yourself.

You saw jean’s lips quirk up as he shook his head. “today is a treat then? With me?”

“don’t flatter yourself.”

“admit it, sweetheart. You think im a treat.”

“I do not. Youre the one who insists on paying for my drink. You don’t have to put on the gentleman act for someone who is going to accomplish much more than you.” you say, not really meaning your words. He knew, of course, he knew what you meant. He side eyes you and the previous butterflies seemed to have multiplied.

“im not acting like a gentleman. If you want the whole package then ask me out for dinner first, then we’ll see. And fine, if you wanna pay so bad-“

“I never said that-“

“then you can. Be my guest, waste your money.”

Your bickering went back and forth, and you realised how much you credited jean for his conversation skills. If this was ash, or even your brother, they’d be sick of your constant petty jabs, but jean wasn’t.

Another thing about jean kirstein that you found yourself mentally noting : he pushed you to be… better? You didn’t know if the bickering counted as being better, but academically speaking, he was the top of the list when it came to you pushing yourself to be the best you could be.

The one time you felt seen was when you were with him. Ash would always talk over you, and you liked that about them, you really did. but was it so bad for you to want to be heard? Just for a bit? Even if it was only for a while, even if it was only about studying, you liked jean to be the one you were competing with.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you also liked being partnered up with him. it was like a superpower you had discovered while being paired up with him the last time. You realised how much you could accomplish when you were with him. like he was your driving force, in a way.

The last time you had been paired up with him, he had introduced you to almost everyone in his friend group. You didn’t get particularly close to any of them, but you were glad to be a part of their little group anyway. Ash, connie’s… crush? Friend with benefit? They hadn’t put a label on it, but you could tell that Ash was glad you were coming out of your shell as well.

That was until winter formal, before armin said you two should be friends after being the one who asked you to go with him in the first place. you weren’t mad at him, per say. You knew who he was, and what he was was a good friend. you didn’t expect him to officially ask you out, anyway, so it was all water under the bridge.

After he started to distance himself from you, you did the same for him. he needed his space, and you respected that. you didn't know how that translated to you distancing yourself from the rest of the group, but somehow, you did. The only person you sort of kept in touch with after that was jean, and even that was only rarely. You and him never went out of each other’s ways to make plans, hangout, or even text after that. Yet, whenever you talked to him, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

Which was dangerous. Jean had… a reputation. He was pretty, it was obvious. He was smart, and he was good at soccer, and practically everything else anyone could ever be perfect in. after mikasa and eren finally started dating, he started dating, too. some people here and there, you heard Ash tell you about his new partner almost every two months. He wasn’t a heartbreaker, though. He was always respectful about his relationships, but it still felt forced. Like people were only dating him because they saw him being perfect all the time. like people saw himself as how they wanted to and not who he really was.

You remembered him telling you about it once, before the winter formal. He told you about how he felt the need to be perfect because if he wasn’t, people wouldn’t like him. more importantly, he felt like people should like him, because for the longest time people hadn’t . the moment he started to achieve things was the moment he was noticed, if not loved. the moment he started showing himself, even if wasn't the version he wanted, he was praised. He didn’t want to lose that.

You remembered hugging him after that. He hadn’t cried, but his eyes were glistening as you sat on someone’s bed at someone’s party. You patted his back, rubbing circles there, as he kept his hand on your thigh.

You wondered if you were the reason your friendship with him changed. You wondered if your brother moving away for MIT was the reason you started not caring about how people viewed you and more about how your grades would look.

You wondered if jean would… like you if you had persisted and stuck with him when he started to distance himself.

“y/n?” jean calls out to you, as you snap out of your thoughts drowning you.

“hm?”

“we’re here, dumbass. We’ve been here since two minutes. Where’s your mind?” he asks, flicking your forehead. He does it gently though, to not hurt you.

You shake your head. “nowhere important.” You unbuckle your seatbelt, stepping out of the car, as jean follows behind.

--

Jean ended up paying for your drink before you could stop him.

You didn’t complain this time, mainly because you were too focused on your textbook and the way jean’s shoulder was brushing yours.

It irritated you, of course. Stupid jean’s stupid warmth, stupid perfume, stupid stubble. He’d grown so much since sophmore year, you almost didn’t recognize him. he grew out the aforementioned stubble a little, only a little, and you could almost tell that he spent the entire summer growing it out. His previously short and choppy hair grew out floppy and sometimes fluffy hair that, in your and everyone else's opinions, suited him. you had heard him talking to Marco about getting a mullet in the future. as someone with common sense and eyes, you didn't deny how good he looked, with or without the mullet.

And as someone with common sense, you also didn’t tell him just how pretty he was. You were sure he knew already, with his smug face and almost everyone lining up for a night with him. it didn’t help that he had a good personality, too. it would’ve been so much easier to act like you hated him if he was actually a terrible person.

But no, he was a good person, and you were reminded of that fact when jean passed you a tissue after you devoured your milkshake-esque coffee, and offering you a piece of his cheesecake.

After a good three hours of studying the topic and coming up with things to put in your project, jean stretches his arms up, letting out a yawn in the process. His shirt rode up a bit, as you averted your gaze and focused on packing up your books and pens.

It was almost 8 pm, and you were surprised your parents hadn’t called you home yet. Did they really trust jean that much? Or was the text you sent to your brother enough to lay them off for a while?

You stood up letting out a breath, trying to even out your breathing. Maybe they did trust jean to let you stay so late. They wouldn’t be mad at you for studying with someone, right? And if they asked, you could show them the notes. Nothing to be stressed about. Then why was your heart beating so hard?

Jean placed a hand on your shoulder. “let me take that,” he says, pulling the bag from your arms.

You were too tired to complain, as you followed him to his car like a lost puppy.

The ride home was also peaceful. No bickering, no discussions, no questions. You guessed jean was tired, too. the song you picked out for him played softly as you reached home.

You unbuckled your seatbelt, collecting your bag and phone. Before you could push the door open, however, jean grabbed your wrist, making your head turn towards him.

The headlights of his car reflected on the inside, making his brown eyes glow a slight yellow from the side. his noes and eyelashes created beautiful shadows on his face. “are you sure youre okay?” he asks in a low voice, almost whispering. “you know that im…. im here for you, right? We’re friends.” He says.

Your heat beats faster. You swallow, feeling a lump forming in your throat. He said you were friends. Like the casual type that you’d call up at random times to tell them about your day, like the ones that went to grab coffee together, the ones that invited eachother to parties and introduced all of your other friends to.

Its not like Ash wasn’t your friend. right? Just because they were hanging out with connie a bit more didn’t mean they were completely ditching you right?

God, were his words really enough to make you feel seen?

You shrugged. “of course I’m okay.” Leaving it at that. You didn’t tell him about how much your mother’s words from earlier had hurt you, or how much you wanted to feel included in something. It was embarrassing. And coming from jean? Even more so. How had he noticed? Didn’t he stop talking to you after the formal? Wasn’t he the one who only talked to your for your notes?

Wasn’t he also the one to lend you a pencil a good four months after said formal? Wasn’t he also the one who asked how your test went, starting a conversation between you two after almost five months of almost nothing except waves from across the hallway?

Again, why was this affecting you more than it should have?

He was looking at you, concerned and not convinced. “I just need some sleep.” You clarified, hoping that will make whatever was going on in his mind stop.

His hand left your wrist and you immediately missed the warmth he provided. He sighed, blinking. “well….if you ever need anything, im only a text away, alright?”

He smiles. And not in the typical, smug, I-want-to-look-good smile, but the soft, gentle smile. The corner of his eyes crinkled, his eyebrows and shoulders relaxed. He looked like him again, like the night he thanked you for holding him after his rant at the party, like the day you and him went out for coffee without telling your parents, like the day he invited you to a party and introduced you to all his other friends, like the day he had called you to tell you about his surprisingly good day.

You gave him the same smile you returned to him all the previous times.

“I know.” You whisper.

You didn’t want to leave. You desperately wanted nothing more than to stay here, basking in his cologne and smile and warmth for the rest of your days. You could rot here and flowers could bloom from your skeleton and still be content.

But by the time you could do any of that, you had already gotten up from your seat, turning to shut the door.

Jean was looking at you then, when you crouched down, meeting his eyes again. he was looking at you the same way he was when you drank that milkshake coffee in under two minutes. “im here for you too, jean. Don’t forget that.” You say, smiling. You turn and close the door before he can answer.

Before entering your house, however, you turn around.

He’s looking at you, smile still present, one hand stretched on the steering wheel as the other waved at you.

you waved back.

---

it was almost 1 am when you got the notification.

Jeankirstenoutoften sent you their story.

Stretching your legs from under your desk, you slump onto your bed, phone in hand. When you open the message, you see a story with a picture of you drinking the coffee, and another picture of you leaning down and writing in your notebook, with an emoji of a daisy on the side of the story along with your username tagged next to it.

The song was the same youd made him listen to in the car, which surprised you, to say the least. You didn’t know he would pay attention to your choice of songs, or even care, and the fact that he remembered to add that made yet another swarm of butterflies fill up in your belly.

You liked the story, adding it to your own with a green heart emoji, knowing jean’s favourite colour like the back of your hand.

Jean instantly messaged you after that.

Jean k.:

Why are you awake??

Why r YOU awaje, kirstein

Jean k.:

Cuz I wasn’t the one complaining about being tired, sweet heart

Also you have to get up at what

7? Tomorrow?

Your brows furrowed.

How fo uou know that?

Okay yes I a m tred but that doesn’t mean

that

I’ll actally skeep

Sleepig is fir looserd

Jean k.:

Jesus

Maybe you should sleep

The amount of typos youre making

It givbed charafter

Mayve you shuiuld look iy up

He was right. You were tired and sleepy, but you werent about to prove him right. He didn’t know you as much as he thought he did.

Jean k.:

Are you just trying to prove a point?

Well, shit.

Dint u habe practive tonroow?

Tonroow.

Yes I do

That’s besides the point

HYPOCRUSY

Ojg maybr we shoukd nap un ur car

Im not bringing my car tomorrow sweetheart

If you wanna sleep with me that bad

just ask

I dubt wabt to skeep with yu

I wabt to NAP wuth u.

they r complwtely diffebrbet

"diffebrbet" wasn't even close to different

Y/n

Please sleep

NI

Do u tgink beyobce skept

…

Beyonce?

Are you asking me if beyonce slept??

Youre proving my point you need to sleep

Wgats ur fac fkower

Why does that matter rn?????

Ander tge dan qyestion

Fine

Tulips.

Is this twenty questions?

Is it my turn omg

Whats ur fav time to sleep?

…

Sweetheart?

y/n?

replied to themself

Whats ur fav time to sleep?

question answered

its now.

Sleep well, y/n :)

See u 'tonroow'.

Jean smiled. He quickly turned off his phone, putting it to charge after making sure he turned his alarm on for tomorrow.

Tonroow.

Maybe he shouldve stopping smiling so wide only because of a couple stupid messages from you, but he couldn’t.

Didn’t you get the hint? Didn’t you know that he only called you sweetheart? That he would never treat everyone else like how he treated you?

Maybe he was putting you on a pedastal, but in his eyes, its where you belonged. On a pedastal, with your sparkling eyes and pretty smile and sarcastic remarks. Maybe it was the way the chapstick you wore accentuated the smike, maybe it was your signatue earrings that moved slightly evertime you nodded that added to your.... yourself.

He wished he hadnt stopped talking to you. he knew what was happening to him, he knew what he was feeling and he was scared. So, like the idiot he was, he decided to push his affections elsewhere. Mikasa Ackerman never looked at him. not in the way he wanted her to, atleast. Mikasa Ackerman was an unattainable goddess, only having eyes for one person, who seemed to be reciprocating her feelings, even if he was below her level. Then again, so would Jean be if she ever were to glance his way. But he didn’t stop his “crush” from foring on her. It was better than it forming on you, someone also unattainable, but in a completely different way. You and him had been…acquiantances if not frienemies since what felt like forever. He couldn’t risk ruining that.

Even if he went ahead and ruined it anyway. He started ignoring you, slowly distancing himself after the formal, never once asking if you were okay after that. Never once asking what you were up to. Soon enough, you grew apart to the time inmiddle school, where the only words spoken between the two of you were insincere insults along with continous bickering, surface level jabs as if you didn’t see him almost break down in the room while a party raged on downstairs. As if you werent his close friend, as if you werent the only one who really saw him at one point.

He missed you. painfully so. He knew why he did it in the first place. he regretted everything about it, but he also didn’t do anything to stop it. He was…okay, right? Without you? life was better, he had gotten closer to marco, been accepted by this big group of friends who he knew cared deeply for him.

But he missed you. his group of friends werent you. they didn’t have the warmth you so openly offered to him without hesitation. They were amazing, really, but they didn’t hold him the way you did. they didn’t make his skin shiver the way you did, they didn’t make his car feel like the safest haven on earth with music playing softly, they didn’t smile like you did, they didn’t…. they werent you.

So, he did what he should've done in the first place. he had no intention of starting the project today, with the sumbission date being more than enough for him to cram in a week and still get a good grade on it.

But he wanted to see you. the real you, not the one you kept hidden in school. The person he saw sitting by the window, knees shaking, dark circles prominent under your eyes. He knew you knew he was staring, but he didn’t stop. You were sitting right next to him and yet you seemed so far.

Guilt swallowed him up whole along with regret. he was going to make an effort. He promised himself right then and there that he’d grow closer to you again, regardless of the fact that his too-strong feelings for you never really faded away, regardless of how scary said feelings were, he was going to try.

His forearm relaxed on his forehead as he closed his eyes.

And you looked so pretty today, the glow of his headlights illuminating the side of your face as you crouched to his eye level to tell him that you cared, that you’d listen to him if he ever needed it and oh, he needed it. He needed you. even if all the two of you did today was study and get work done, it was one of the most….full day he had. He felt full, content, and even if the table stretched in silence for most of the time, he felt like he wasn’t hidden.

He fell asleep feeling happier than he had since when he was crushing on mikasa.

--

Maybe he shouldve slept sooner. His eyes felt like they were on fire, the burn only calming when he closed them by blinking.

Connie passed him a cold red bull, noticing his tired state. Jean thanked him silently as he chugged half of it in one go, ignoring the stin that came with the cool liquid.

“did you not sleep like….at all last night?” eren asks, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. his front bangs stick to his forehead despite the cool weather. Coach ackerman had gone easy on the training today, and that was saying a lot. jean still felt like his bones were breaking.

“I did sleep. Got a late night that’s all.” Jean says. Despite eren and jean’s obvious dislike for eachother, they still considered the other a friend. they could be civil sometimes, when they felt like it. Which was rarely, but it still counted.

Pulling out his phone, he checks his phone.

3 unread messages from (y/n) <3

FUCK I FELL ASLEEP

This proves nothing.

Im still winning.

Jean smiles, opening your texts.

Uh huh. Keep that imagination going.

Is debate club over yet? I saw a couple of

the students hanging around the field.

Yeah I just finished

Got done early today for some reason

Same

Wanna come here so we can walk together?

My mom made omletes

I think she packed an extra one if youre hungry

Oh

Ur mom’s omletes do sound rlly good rn

Only if theres extra tho

Im pretty sure there is

she always packs more than I need

Although that was true, jean had specifically asked er to pack one more today, one for him, one extra, and one for you.

I'll be down in two :)

Drink water, kirstein, not just redbull

Jean smiles slightly, chugging the rest of his red bull.

“whats gotten you so smiley?” reiner asked as he ruffled his hair.

“is it (y/n)?” marco follows up with his own question, and jean feels like digging a hole and burrying himself in it right then and there.

“oh, (y/n)? I havent seen them around since sophmore year.” Eren says.

Jean shrugs while uncapping his water bottle. “yes, its (y/n). theyre coming down here right now.”

reiners brows furrowed. “you guys are talking again?”

jean hated the way he said it. He hated that everyone he knew also knew about how close you and him used to be at one point, however brief.

Yet, jean maintains his uncaring exterior, and shrugs. “never really stopped talking,” he lies.

Marco shoots him a knowing look as jean drinks his water, pretending to not notice it.

“talking about your grades doesn't count, horseface.” Eren says, getting up before jean could react.

He sees mikasa waiting for eren near the field, the latter greeting her by grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles. Jean didn’t feel the jealousy he wouldve felt three months ago, he simply observed without the familiar feeling of subtle rage and sadness crawling up his heart.

One by one, everyone left to do god knows what, until only him and marco were left. They were sitting on the grass, jean’s body resting on his eblows with marco copying his stance.

“do you still like them?” marco blurts out.

If it was anyone else, jean would've denied any feelings towards you. that was the only thing he was probably jealous of armin for; the fact that the blonde was a far more convincing liar then jeabever could be.

Jean sighed, glancing at his phone, screen now blackened. “I think so. I don’t think my feelings ever….went away if that makes sense. Like, I hoped they would go away but they didn’t and now I just feel…”

“like a dick?” marco finishes with a small smirk.

Marco bodt was known in the school for his good looks and even better personality. He was kind, but not in the pushover way. he knew all the right things to say to someone under any circumstance. Jean was pretty sure that the only person who saw him crumble once was jean himself, when he reassured marco that hed do well in the match despite his then recent injuries.

But what everyone didn’t see was how…smug marco could be. He could be witty when he wanted, and his teasing would almost combat the one jean faced by you, too. it was in the good way, of course, and jean was glad marco felt comfortable enough with him to be open with him. jean would be caught dead voicing his affections, though, just like he would be if he ever gathered the courage to tell you about how he’d been pining you since before you and armin ever met.

Jean purses his lips, trying not to show his friend that he was right. Jean was sure he knew, though. Marco, somehow, like you, always knew. “yeah. Like a dick.”

“well, its good youre trying to patch things up with them now. Better late then never, yeah?” marco says as he gets up, wiping off the dirt on his hands. “see you in class. Have fun with y/n” marco winks, and jean catches the innuendo.

“its not like that!” jean shouts behind him, watching his back shake with laughs. Jean hopes his blush isnt too prominent for you to notice when you greet him.

Which you do, after another minute of him waiting on the grass.

“did you drink water? Your face is red.” You say, sitting down next to him, slipping your bag fro your shoulders.

“and how is water supposed to help with a red face?”

You shrug, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear. “water solves 99% of your problems.”

“will it make you less annoying?”

“it wont, but it’ll probably help you dance, maybe.”

Jean blushes even more. “oh my god, that was a year ago.”

You snicker. “but youre still terrible at it. Im pretty sure my toes are still bruised with the amount of times you stepped on them.”

“that’s not even possible, and also, you werent that good, either.”

“sure, jean-bo.”

“don’t call me that!” his blush was still on his face, now darkening furiously. You chuckle, which makes his heart skip a beat.

“lets just eat that damn omlete, yeah?”

--

[lapinlunairegames]

tag game created by: @ibuprofen-exe

tagged by @lifesupreme-if and @thirtybythirty ^u^

Rules: Post a poll with three (or more) songs from one of your characters playlists, except there is a catch: one of the songs is not truly on their playlist. Have your followers guess, and when the poll is finished, reveal which song was the fake.

Doing another one of these for my dear darling catgirl Esme who endures all the scenarios I put her into with such fury <3

[w3ath3r-0f-sw34t3rz]

remember that time i chose a top ten for all of my favorite artists? no you don't but i'm gonna re-do it. and so

forcing myself to pick a top ten (in no particular order except for the top 3) for my favorite artists. why? because!

cavetown

this is home

boys will be bugs

it's u

devil town

pyjama pants

snake & the prairie dogs

smoke signals

a kind thing to do

pigeon

let them know they're on your mind

cavetown offline edition

rocket ships

rain

evergreen

alien waves

winter coat

thank you

petrify

ghost boys

vacation with the ghosts

candle

conan gray

alley rose

fight or flight

the exit

comfort crowd

winner

best friend

footnote

lonely dancers

heather

bourgeoisieses

chloe moriondo

take your time

waves

killbot!

cry

exhausted

hotel for clowns

plastic purse

cdbaby<3

slacker

hearteyes

taylor swift

you're on your own, kid

cardigan

who's afraid of little old me?

enchanted

don't blame me

you're losing me

new year's day

champagne problems

lover

cowboy like me

boywithuke

migraine

out of tune

bad things

zoning out

so cold

falling for you

kind of sick of life

bad luck

heart of ice

problematic

penelope scott

cigarette ahegao

gross

moonsickness

born2run

lotta true crime

rät

runaway

sin eater

lavender

shuffle

beabadoobee

take a bite

1999

bobby

the way things go

the way i spoke

talk

coming home

apple cider

coffee

this is how it went

melanie martinez

evil

field trip

nymphology

pacify her

drama club

teacher's pet

carousel

brain & heart

cry baby

glued

mother mother

the matrix

arms tonite

bit by bit

weep

legs away

wisdom

forgotten souls

oh ana

love and truth

until it doesn't hurt

olivia rodrigo

obsessed

deja vu

vampire

all-american bitch

lacy

ballad of a homeschooled girl

traitor

teenage dream

good 4 u

can't catch me now

phoebe bridgers

graceland too

the gold

i know the end

scott street

would you rather

funeral

chinese satellite

icu

motion sickness

demi moore

mitski

first love/late spring

texas reznikoff

my body's made of crushed little stars

bag of bones

geyser

francis forever

crack baby

a pearl

strawberry blond

washing machine heart

tv girl

the blonde

blue hair

better in the dark

taking what's not yours

loving machine

pretty boy

not allowed

it almost worked

louise

summer's over

alex g

i wait for you

16 mirrors

thorns

runner

break

early morning waiting

mis

treehouse

time/space

know now

the neighbourhood

sweater weather

you get me so high

ferrari

flawless

the shining

greetings from califournia

reflections

sadderdaze

lost in translation

softcore

lana del rey

happiness is a butterfly

fishtail

the greatest

music to watch boys to

chemtrails over the country club

not all who wander are lost

born to die

let the light in

say yes to heaven

west coast

beach bunny

good girls (don't get used)

vertigo

racetrack

deja vu

prom queen

scream

painkiller

rearview

blame game

ghost

arctic monkeys

r u mine?

why'd you only call me when you're high?

fluorescent adolescent

arabella

mardy bum

balaclava

the jeweller's hands

fireside

505

i wanna be yours

who is this for? me. thank you

[https-hunter]

Doing this in a single post bc I’m impatient & I love Olivia’s music sm

1: I liked her when sour came out but I got really into her music in October of 2023

2: Probably deja vu

3: Can’t catch me now!!

4: I guess I’ve listened to hope ur ok the least

5: “We both drew blood but man those cuts were never equal” HITS in a way I can’t describe

6: ALL AMERICAN BITCH I LOVE IT SO MUCH

7: I don’t have a favorite, but I found this on Pinterest and I think it’s cute

8: THE GRUDGE. I have issues with letting go of grudges I have against those who have wronged me (VERY specific people) so. uh. that one hits close to home

9: I actually had a dream last week where I was doing karaoke to an Olivia song and I was trying to pick one I knew by heart. I definitely know vampire, get him back, & bad idea right? I’m sure I still have a ton of sour songs memorized

10: Get him back & obsessed are sooo cool. I also love good 4 u because I remember my brother pulling it up on the tv when it came out

11: this one is really cute! I love the bangs on her

12: Drivers license. I may have heard all I want before that, but I remember drivers license blowing up

13: All American bitch!!

14: She’s my age. We’re both 2003 girlies and I think that’s why I connect and click with her music so much. I was going through teen angst when she was and transitioning to adulthood at the same time as her. She gets it!!

15: I don’t have one, but once again, I like this photo from Pinterest. It feels like something any gen z teen would post

16: One step forward, three steps back & pretty isn’t pretty

17: This one. She literally still makes that face

18: I honestly don’t know which ones have had their own music videos or not. I’m sure they’re all great

19: Conan Gray. I think their friendship is sweet and I like his music, too

20: Like favorite cover of an Olivia song? I don’t know any other than that video of jojo siwa singing traitor 😭

21: There are probably some hsmtmts songs I haven’t heard. I haven’t watched it

22: Traitor!! I love that song sm. I do love happier though

23: What. What does this one mean? She’s American, is she not?

24: I’ve never seen hsmtmts 😭

25: MITSKI MITSKI PLEASE!! If someone closer to her age, then Conan Gray would be so cool since they’re besties already or Laufey

26: Never seen that show

27: Never seen that show

28: I don’t know if any of them are? Drivers license was…very saturated in 2021 and vampire was tiktokified last year

29: When she was on SNL in 2023

30: That I love her music, it’s so relatable and beautiful, and that she should keep doing what she’s doing