#my second favorite part is the writing because it has simultaneously some of the best one liners and worst conversation in the same scene

[himblebo]

My favorite part of lifetime’s the Lizzie Borden chronicles is the amount of agency Lizzie gains by just deciding to simply not give a single fuck and live exactly how she wants

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

I Was Made For Lovin’ You

Colt Seavers (The Fall Guy 2024) x Reader

This is the third part of a three part series!

Part One: Coffees, Plural

Part Two: It’s A Love Story…

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters except for the reader insert!

Author’s Notes: This set has been a lot of fun to write! I think my pacing got a little off towards the end of Part 2, but oh well! As always, if you enjoy, please consider leaving a comment! I’d love to read your feedback!

Content/Content Warning: Minors do NOT interact!! You’re better off!

This chapter is SPIIIICY. Very. Very. Spicy. And it’s long. What more could you want, right? But seriously, if you don’t like spice, the story’s over after pt 2! like this is pure spice 😭 Icons by @gosling-girlx !! She’s the best!

Anyway, thanks for reading along!

Reader’s POV

I couldn’t ask for anything more, anything more at all. Because in the words of his favorite song, this is a Love Story and baby, I will always say yes.

Somehow we made it back to the set from the bar. The ride was tense as his hand squeezed my thigh the entire time, while his own leg bounced with ADHD.

The kisses outside of his truck had went from giggly to steamy really fast- before I knew it he was on my neck, my earlobe, my jaw, anywhere he could find. And the hottest part? He kept asking if what he was doing was alright until finally I smashed his mouth to mine, telling him through the passion that everything he was doing was in fact alright.

And good grief. If he told me to jump into a volcano with his lips by my ear I’d do it.

Without a second thought.

Suddenly I’m struggling to unlock the door to my trailer because I have a six foot man pressed all up on me, kissing the shell of my ear, hands on my waist.

And to be honest, part of me wants to let him take me right then and there.

But the rational, sane part of me knows much better and somehow, by some stroke of luck gets that damn door open only for him to push me right through it with a deep, heavy kiss.

He tastes like chocolate, his kisses rich just like the sweet. I’m barely in my right mind enough to close the door to the trailer, but I don’t have to because he picks me up and holds my back against that door. My hand covers my mouth, a frail attempt to cover the breaths and whines that want to break free of my lust filled self as his mouth gets lower and lower, reaching the tops of my breasts in the damn jumper.

“Please let me hear you, y/n,” Colt asks. His voice is a breathy wreck. I don’t move my hand, but he brings his up to mind, covering it.

“Please, y/n,” his blue eyes are electric, filled with longing as they bore holes into mine. I nod, ever do slightly, letting him take my hand into his, reveling in the strength of his perfectly callused hand.

“Listen,” he says as he kisses up my neck. “If we’re going to do this, I need to know what you like.” His voice is more gravelly than usual, a product of lust.

And I know that I need to say something, but he’s so all consuming. His perfect body over mine, his lips clouding my senses. My brain is short circuiting, with lust and love, and the only answer I can give him is a soft whimper when he starts nipping at the conjunction of my neck and shoulder.

“C’mon, sugar,” he prods, murmuring as he briefly removes his lips before going upward towards my earlobe. Sugar? For fucks sake. I’m not going to make it.

“Y-your voice,” I tell him as I start running my free hand through his fluffy, fluffy hair.

“Oh yeah? My voice? You want me to talk you through it?” he asks, turning on his straight-up seductive voice.

“Yes,” I breath. My voice is high and whiny, and I’d be so embarrassed if I wasn’t with him.

But I am with him, and suddenly the little sounds aren’t so embarrassing. Suddenly, everything’s a little too hot.

“Bed?” I suggest through a moan as he kisses along my jaw whilst simultaneously cupping my breast.

***

Colt’s POV

I’ve been drugged before. Saw unicorns and all kinds of weird shit. But nothing matches the level of intoxication I feel right now. She’s stronger than any drug, my senses- what I feel, what I see, what I’m touching… it’s all y/n.

So when she asks to go to the bed, I am there faster than a heartbeat. I lower her down as slowly as I can, kissing her for all I’m worth. I shrug off my button down, letting it fall to the floor. Her nails scratch at my biceps, and I can’t help but let out a heavy breath. I kiss from her earlobe down to just between the tops of her breasts. She’s so perfect. God, she’s so perfect.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” her voice is so breathy, it’s going straight to my, er, yeah. I did that to her. Shit.

“Can I take this off?” I ask, meeting her eyes, tugging at the romper she hated so much.

She takes a deep breath before answering. “Yes.”

“You sure?” I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. The last thing I want is for her to be uncomfortable, she deserves the best.

“Yes, Colt. I trust you, you have me,” she tells me.

And if that doesn’t set me off.

“Okay,” my voice is shaky. But she likes it, so I force myself to keep it together.

I tug at the top of her romper, kissing newly exposed skin as I do so.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I tell her, a rhetorical question.

“So, so fucking perfect,” the words are just falling from my lips at this point as I finish tugging down the garment, leaving her only in her underwear and her sandals.

“Colt?” I never want to hear my name called by anyone else ever again. Ever. Again.

“Yeah?”

“Can you uh, take off your shirt? I feel underdressed.”

Before she can even finish her statement I’ve literally ripped the tank top off. What a dipshit, I want to facepalm so badly. But now she’s giggling, and I can’t help but laugh with her. She’s so cute.

“Sorry, I’m a little over eager,” I laugh, kissing her on her perfect, plush lips once more.

“You don’t say,” she laughs as I duck my head to kiss her breasts. Shit. She’s perfect everywhere. I cup one of her tits in one hand, the other I surrender to my mouth, eliciting all kinds of perfect noises out of her.

“That’s my girl,” I tell her. “You sound so pretty for me.”

I keep kneading and sucking on her perfect, pillowy breasts until she’s completely wriggling under me. Good. “You’re beautiful,” I say, as I start traveling southward. “So, so beautiful.”

***

Reader’s POV

It’s so much. He’s just ripped off his shirt like he was in a Tom Ryder movie, and yet, he is actually, truly, ardently, beyond better than the movies.

His physique… it’s to die for. Sun-kissed skin meets taut muscles, and and biceps bigger than my head. Not to mention that happy trail, and the blatant bulge in his pants.

It’s come to the point that I truly can hardly think. His voice is an aphrodisiac, taunting me, forcing slick to pool in the only article of clothing he has yet to tug off. His eyes, his big, vivid, electric eyes have either been locked on me or in mine. His mouth works wonders, I fear that at this point whatever he suggests, whatever he wants, I will comply without a second thought.

And now that his kisses are trailing down the slope of my body, from the valley between my breasts and down over my stomach, stopping on my pelvic bone… quite frankly I could be finished right now.

And yet, he makes eye contact again, looking down at my underwear clad core and back to me.

Oh. He wants to-

“Colt…” I start.

“Yes?” he’s lifted his face, looking me dead in the eyes.

“You don’t have to… it’s been a while, I-“

“Y/n,” he says. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t. But if you do, I promise you I’m going to make it so good for you, and you’re gonna think of it every time you look at me.” And his words are so fucking honest, so sincere. I know he means it.

So my answer’s easy. “I trust you, Colt Seavers.” He smiles, and I can’t help but smile back before he drags my legs so they’re dangling off of the bed, my core right on the edge.

He stands at full height, looking down at me, and what a sight. His hair is a mess, because of me, but it’s so fluffy and gorgeous. His lips are swollen and pink. His eyes are brighter than ever, his beard… oh shit. His beard is going to feel so good-

“I’m gonna take these off,” he tells me, as he reaches for one of my legs, tilting it up so he can slowly, seductively take of my sandal as he massages my calf. I’m quivering, literally quivering from how attractive I find this to be. He then removes the other shoe, before sinking down to his knees. And if he’s a sight at full height, on his knees…

And suddenly I can’t think, because he’s kissing up my leg. “Easy there, pretty girl. Relax,” he tells me, his voice soothing. His beard is scratchy in all the right ways, soft like his hair. But just before he reaches my core, he bites the inside of my thigh, gleaning a loud gasp out of me, before stopping all together and doing the same thing to my other leg, taking his sweet time. And the worst part is that he’d maintaining eye contact this entire time, searching through my soul.

I’m soaked. I’m going to have to throw these underwear away, because his every move is just getting me hotter.

Finally, finally, finally, he bites the inside of my other thigh, and inhales by my core. “Oh sugar, you’re soaked.” His eyes are blown out, darkened by lust.

“All for you,” I barely manage to say, before he’s slowly pulling off my underwear, and then getting between my thighs again.

“All f’me?” his words are slurred as his nose is level with my cunt.

“Mmm,” I respond.

“You ready, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. Sugar. He’s going to kill me.

“Y-yes,” and just as soon as the word’s left my lips has he dove into my core.

Colt’s POV

Shes intoxicating. Tastes like strawberries, sounds too sweet, looks like heaven… I’m so far gone.

I’m eating her out like there’s no tomorrow, holding her down while she tries to squirm. Emphasis on tries because it only takes one hand to keep her down. Finally her hands rest in my hair, tugging as she moans. It’s either my name, and again, I never want to hear my name from anyone else ever again, or “oh my god oh my god,” which is just as hot. I start off easy, with just my tongue, testing the waters, and she can’t get enough. I lick strips before finally just going for it, straight into her pussy and nothing has ever felt so right.

“More, more,” she starts saying eventually, so I add a finger, thrusting in. “Faster, harder,” she says, and who am I to deny her? Eventually I’m just sucking on her clit while pumping not one, not two but three fingers into her tight little cunt, hard enough that her body is going forward and back with each thrust. Her hands in my hair are tight, making me grunt or moan into her core while my hand is keeping her down.

“Colt, Colt, Colt,” she cries, trying to push my head away with her hands as her peak nears.

I grabs her hand, holding it to my head, squeezing it as I trace circles on her clit before finally-

She lets go with a broken moan of my name. I do my best to take everything she can give and then some, bringing her to the precipice of a second release.

“Colt, Colt, it’s too much,” she gasps. But something in those fucked out eyes is urging me to bring her over, just one more time.

So I do, and she comes with a weak cry of my name, smaller this time but just as powerful.

***

Reader’s POV

It’s too much. But it’s also not enough. The way he’s listening to anything I say, and then brings me to not one but two orgasms in what? A half hour? He was right. I will never be able to look at him without thinking about that.

His head rests between my thighs, even after the second release. He looks up at me with a mischievous smile as he caresses one of them with his big hand. “Was it good, sugar?” He asks, kissing the inside of my thigh, making me tighten my grip in his hair. I don’t fail to notice the little breath that escapes him when I tug his roots.

“Yes,” I breathe, still trying to recover.

He climbs up onto the bed, laying down next to me. There’s drops of release on his chin, and yet he doesn’t even bother wiping them off. Slut. Hot slut. Very hot slut. Very hot slut who’s very good at eating me out.

“You alright? Did I push you too hard?” He tilts my face towards his with his hand, lightly cupping my cheek.

“No, no, you were perfect. So fucking perfect,” I tell him, finally starting to regain my bearings. There’s a severe ache between my thighs, and I don’t know if it’s from the double dose of pleasure or from a want for more.

He smiles again. “Alright, let me go get you a towel.”

It’s when he starts to get up that I notice the strain in his pants, the small wet spot. How has he kept those on this whole time?

“Colt, wait, what about you-?” I ask frantically.

“We don’t have to y/n, you’re tired,” he says sweetly, a look of pure concentration on his face.

“No, Colt. I want it. I want it, so bad,” I say, my voice getting whinier as I talk.

“Are you sure?” his eyes are on me, boring into my soul once again.

I grab his face and pull him into mine, tasting my release on his tongue but not caring because I need him to know. To know that I want this.

I think he catches on, because once he pulls away, waiting a moment for the strand of spit that’s connecting us to break, he stands up, looking at me with pure lust.

He reaches into his pockets, probably looking for a condom. “Dipshit!” he curses. “I uh,” he shakes his head. He doesn’t have one.

“We don’t need one,” I tell him. “I’m clean, I have morning after.”

“I’m clean too- you sure?”

“Colt Seavers, I want you to fuck me so good that I can’t walk tomorrow, that I can’t sit because I’m still going to be able to feel you dripping out of me,” I tell him, my voice firm. He groans, really groans, which is maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

“Alright, alright,” he says setting me on the bed so my legs aren’t falling off anymore. “Alright,” he breathes as he sets a pillow under my hips.

“Okay,” he says, taking off his shoes and then his pants.

“Okay,” I whisper as he stands before me in his naked glory, the only thing on his body his golden pendant.

He fists himself, rubbing up and down a few times, and good grief. He is radiant, like some sort of rugged Greek god. I’m sure my jaw has visibly dropped, but next time, his hand is going to be my hand(s).

Finally, finally, after excruciatingly long moments he’s gingerly climbing over me. He presses a soft, sweet kiss to my lips, and then goes to say something.

“Colt, if you’re going to ask if I’m sure, I am. Alright?”

“Alright,” he breathes, before lining up with my entrance.

He starts pushing in. He’s massive, and even the tip has me gasping.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” his words are slurred. “Just gotta relax for me, alright. You can do it.”

And just because he says I can do it, I can do it, and finally he’s bottomed out, fully inside me. With the pillow under my hips he’s hit any sensitive spot possible, and my mouth is stuck in an “o.”

“Colt,” I say after a few moments, my voice once again high and breathy. “Can you move?”

***

Colt’s POV

“Yeah, sugar, I can move,” I tell her. I start to pull back and in with shallow, soft thrusts. “You’re so tight,” I groan. She clenches around me, and it’s all I can do not to bust right then and there.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl,” I say, kissing her slowly. She’s tense, but the kiss seems to have loosened her up a bit. “You’re okay.”

She threads her fingers in my hair, entangled in the roots. I’ve got my hands planted on either side of her head, and her eyes between them have me captivated.

Finally we have a smooth rhythm. Her lips are parted in a perfect o, and we’re both gasping and panting. But eventually, she hooks her calf around my thigh and tells me “I said I wanted you to fuck me.”

“Alright, honey, but if it’s too much you’ve got to tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” she breathes.

***

Reader’s POV

He pulls all the way out, getting a whimper out of me to which he tuts at, before slamming back in and setting a fast, hard pace. The sounds of skin slapping skin are pornographic, and they’re making my brain fuzzy. My breath is hitched in my throat from how good it feels, I couldn’t say anything if I tried. Which is fine, because he has all the words for the both of us.

“Yeah, there you go, pretty girl. That good enough for you?” A rhetorical question. He knows it’s good.

“You like this? Like me fucking you into next year?” All he gets is a gasp of his name in response.

“Aww, poor baby, can barely think straight,” he punctuates his words with particularly deep thrusts. “Thats alright, cause I’ll take care of you.” His leans his head down to bite my collar bone, trying to leave marks.

I feel myself start to tighten even more around him, and he grunts.

“You gonna come?” he asks, near my ear.

“Y-yes,” I whine.

“Good girl,” he says, before reaching a hand between us to rut on my clit.

“C-Colt- it’s too much-“

“You’re just sensitive, sweetheart,” he murmurs, applying more pressure. And finally, before I know it I’ve released with a shout of his name, and he’s holding me close, still thrusting lazily.

“I, uh, I’m going to-“ he starts.

“In me, Colt, in me!” desperation clouds my voice. I want him to fill me.

“I-uh, oh,” he mumbles, picking up the pace again until it’s just brutal, pounding into me until finally he stills, and I can feel him coming inside of me with a weak cry of my name. God, that’s hot.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his forehead on mine, kissing my nose.

“Full.”

His face scrunches up like he’s in pain. “God, you can’t just say that.”

I smile. “Pshh. But seriously I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Call in sick. I’ll call in sick with you,” he suggests. “We can watch our movies, and maybe have some more fun..?”

“I’d love nothing more. Also, Jody knew what she was doing when she made you sing that song.”

“No shit,” he laughed. “I was made for lovin’ you, baby.”

I shove his chest. “Cheesy!”

***

Bonus: the next morning:

I wake up wondering why my blankets are so heavy, until I feel light breathing in my ear.

He slept on me. He literally slept on top of me. I would laugh, but I can hardly breath.

“Colt,” I whisper. “Colt!”

“Heyy,” he says groggily.

“Can you move a little please?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he replies, kissing my ear.

“It’s okay, you’re a very nice weighted blanket,” I tell him. He laughs, leaning in to kiss me before I hear a buzz. Stupid phone.

“Don’t check it, stay here,” he urges, wrapping his arms around me.

“Clingy,” I chuckle. “I still need to call in sick though.”

“Fiiiine.”

I reach around for my phone, thankfully I somehow managed to get it to the nightstand. The buzz was a text from Jody.

“You finally banged him! Congrats! No need to come into work today, Sheila said she’d cover you. Proud of you, babe. X”

I start giggling hysterically. He reads it over my shoulder, and laughs with me. “She always knows,” he says.

“Yeah,” I laugh, setting my phone back on the nightstand and turning back to him and his messy hair. “She always knows.” I lean into kiss him, and he kissed back, softly and sweet.

I think I might actually be the luckiest woman in the world.

***

The End. 😘

[delawaredetroit]

ooooh found your blog recently and as someone who really likes bakugou, this was very uncomfortable to read! but you make a TON of good points.

I completely agree with your take on bakugou's final arc. I wasn't happy with it either (to be fair I kinda just skimmed through the manga after paranormal liberation). We don't see scenes where he's relieved that the world's been saved, we don't see scenes where someone he cares about is threatened, we don't see him accept that being second is okay, we don't see him go collaboration over competition. His arc would've been much more complete if they showed him showing empathy. I think his core, his absolute drive to keep going, to never give up, to keep trying, is rather inspiring, and it wouldn't have been diluted if we'd seen a moment of reflection --of going, "It doesn't matter if I'm second, if someone else is chosen, because trying is what matters."

I don't know. I like Bakugou's character. I like the idea of him changing gradually. I like fanfics made years ago that have much better final arcs for him. I like that he keeps trying --because isn't trying sometimes all that you can do? It's hard to uproot your belief system --one that was encouraged by so many people, one that made up his identity for a long time. I like that he simultaneously doesn't care what people think of him and cares way too much. He's multidimensional and conflicting, and that's hard. He's growing as a person in itty-bitty steps, but it's happening.

I don't really know why I'm writing this --a gesture of understanding? Because Bakugou's my favorite character, and it's clear you hate him, but I think we still agree on a lot of points?

Feel free to ignore this --I think, at the end of the day, people relate with different parts of different characters, and they'll see either the best or worst in them-- and we're all entitled to our own opinions.

No, this is worth giving an answer to. I agree with you on why Bakugou's character arc was lacking.

Listen, I may be a bit of a Bakugou hater, but I consider myself a fair hater. I'll call balls and strikes as I see them.

I'm so harsh on him because of the lack of follow through on his character arc. Because I did have expectations for Bakugou after all of that buildup. I realized around the time of the apology that it was never going to happen.

It's also made worse by how much panel time he has which makes the lack of follow through all the more glaring. Bakugou as a concept could have been an interesting character with an author who was willing to take a few more risks. I've said it a couple of times, but one of the main issues with Horikoshi's atonement arcs is that they reek of insecurity. They get too much focus and there is too much telling over showing on how the audience is supposed to feel about them.

A lot of fanfiction writers do great things with the potential Bakugou's character had. (And some people spend so much time there that they forget what exists in canon is subpar.)

I do appreciate you taking the time to read through my blog and leaving this ask knowing it probably wasn't fun given the critiques I have of your favorite character.

Thanks for the ask

[shivunin]

hello!!!!! for the fic questions: 1, 30, 41, and 42!! because i'm greedy hehe

Well I am greedy to answer questions, so this works out perfectly 💗 Thank you, Zen!

(Zen, this turned out so long sdkfjbkasbkf)

(Fic Writer Questions)

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Oooh, either As Two Reflected Stars or To the Bone. I think they both have a word count that isn't too intimidating and between them they contain most of the recurring tropes I tap into a lot. Also, so much pining. Who doesn't love pining?

(But if someone was asking and they really like pain/angst, I will point you toward Wander the Drifting Roads and be here with tea and a blanket when you're done)

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

Actually, it's not fic-related, but when I was in college I had an assignment to write a braided narrative (nonfiction) and it was sooooo hard. I had no idea what I was doing. But in conference with my professor afterward, we walked through each "strand" of the writing separately and then together and it really changed the way I think about linear narrative.

I mean, obviously (you've read my work haha) it's one of my favorite things to do now. It's most easily seen in Wander, but the Mass Effect piece I'm writing now utilizes this idea to some extent. I like the idea of the future and the past and memory existing simultaneously and separately at once. Especially when the plot is about memory to some extent (and, really, most of them are for me haha)

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

Oooh here's some that used really cool mechanics/techniques that I like (and, Zen, I mean this genuinely, not because it's you asking, so I'm gonna pretend you didn't write it while I talk about yours):

What to Do by Undomiel_Writes: This fic uses such a cool way of keeping time in the story and I love it. It's Garrus by Shepard's bedside and he's trying to keep busy, so there's this really cool reiteration of all the little tasks he gives himself and it is just. So so neat.

Scar Tissue by zenstrike: I am a sucker for the divide between someone's words and what they mean/think, and this fic has it in spades. I really like following Garrus's thoughts so closely, and the way dialogue is present/not present at the same time (because it kind of complements the sense that everything is only sort of happening to him/his thoughts and actions being sort of blurred). It's just! Really clever and it makes me think differently about the rhythm of speech and thought.

I couldn't pick just one by them, but Under Thorns and River Stone by loquaciousquark: The first because it made me rethink how an AU could work/how all the parts of canon could be reshaped into a different world (and also, I like. love the fairytale this is a retelling of). The second because when I first started writing fic, one of the reasons I did so was to learn how to write action sequences/fight scenes and the one at the beginning of this fic is so good (they all are, really). Also, I finished this fic and started it over again immediately, and when I was done reading it the second time, I thought man, I want to write something that somebody sobs over and them immediately hits the chapter one button again.

Experiments in Diplomacy by Dulcidyne: I really really enjoy the way the author fuses emotion and science in this fic; it is just so heartfelt and well-done and it made me think about how I could incorporate the things I love into my own writing.

A Man's Word is His Bond by howlsmovinglibrary: I adore the Surana in this fic and the character work with her is just. so delightful. Her personality comes across so strongly and consistently that when I first read this, it was absolutely something I wanted to achieve myself.

Oh shoot it said a fic. As in one. I meant to only do two, but I waded into my bookmarks and here we are. Sorry D: I'm gonna leave all this here anyway!

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

Yeah!! Honestly, all of the really specific and heartfelt ones stick with me. I think about them when I use the same sort of trope or technique again, especially if the comment itself was agonized. But here are a couple specific ones (and I don't want to embarrass anyone by pointing them out specifically, but if you wrote one of these and want me to I will tag you lol).

I was genuinely thinking about deleting Wander and starting over roughly three weeks after I posted it (I was never 100% happy with the ending) and literally the night I was driving home and mulling the pros and cons of doing just that, I received a comment on the final chapter that said, among other things, "I don't have the words to describe it. Raw? Real? As if you had torn out my heart and repeatedly squeezed it in front of my face. I don't know I wish I had a better vocabulary for what I want to besides that I am really hurt, I am haunted by the pain, and I thank you for it." It was just...so well-timed and so genuine that it completely changed the way I thought about the story and my writing as a whole and also....made me want to participate in the fandom in general.

The review that described Maria as a "radiant menace" and I loved it so much I had to change my blog title

The first comment I ever got (on Your Fate) complimenting my taste in music <3

Every time someone comments on a new fic like "go ahead, fuck me up, I'm ready," hahaa it makes me feel so seen and trusted

"Your writing is so good I want to eat it like a bonbon" I think about this literally all the time. When I finish a good section, I think hmmm yes like a bonbon

Actually fuck it, I was reading through my AO3 inbox to try to find something and I am crying now and I love everybody and I'm so glad I started writing fic I can't think of anything else to say T.T

[leopardmuffinxo]

Hey, hope it's ok to send you an ask too!

First I wanna say you are SO insanely talented at character creation and making gifs, oml, whenever I see your OCs on my dash I'm like woow hello gorgeous! Love that they all have such cool stories too!

So here's my question, which of your OCs would get along, which wouldn't and if you could have one in your party as a companion, who would it be and what would their dynamic be?

Also, do you play them all simultaneously or finish one run and then start another?

Hope you'll have a great day!

slkjdflksjfklsdjf !!! Omg this legit made me tear up just a bit. Thank you so so much. You're too sweet! ♡ Asks are always welcome! I just sometimes take a second to respond lol.

Character creation has always been one of my favorite parts playing any game with a CC, and gif making is so relaxing for me when I don't feel like gaming, so that truly means a lot. ♡

Now for your questions. I'll stick to my BG3 OCs (that have current playthroughs going on), otherwise we'll be here forever lol. I've actually thought about this a lot in the past, so answering this on my blog is fun. Just be jabbing myself a bit, but I feel like I'm not the best at putting my thoughts together and I tend to ramble, so this may be a bit all over the place. Good ol' ADHD brain. Hopefully one day I'll have ALL of their backstories written in a way that makes sense lol.

Who would they would/would not get along with:

Raven: She's snarky, sarcastic, and flirty but also very closed off to deeper conversations from anyone she's not close to. (In her mind, sharing secrets to her gives someone a power over you, so she avoids things like that at all costs.) I like to compare her to Mazikeen from the show Lucifer, because they're incredibly similar with their personalities. For this reason, she would get a long with almost everyone listed, except for Ember or Talon. Her and Kyvoni would def get along the most, as they share similar humor (and pasts). Her and Iris have... physical history, so Iris is still quite hurt regarding it, so they're wouldn't be on the best of terms.

Ember: To those who don't know her, she comes off as very serious and stoic, with a very regal aura about her. Also the literal biggest bookworm. Her and Juniper are sisters, with Ember being the older one, so they get along as well as and bicker as sisters do. Raven and Kyvoni would get on her nerves with their constant snark, so she would avoid them. She, Iris, Velvet, and Khione would get along amazingly. She would def pick Khione's brain about all things magic and share their favorite books. (Khione also writes and reads smut, so I always thought about her introducing those things to Ember lol.) Ember and Talon... might just kill each other. Keep them apart.

Juniper: She's pretty much the opposite of her older sister. Very much go with the flow and completely fine with spontaneity, unlike Ember who prefers structure. While Ember loves her younger sister, they bicker a lot now that their older since Juniper took the warlock route, instead of learning magic the "old fashion way" like her sister. Her patron is a couatl, so it's not like her pact is evil, but Ember still isn't happy with the way she went about things. Her and Iris would be best friends in an instant. She'd def lock on to Khione as another older sister figure, due to her draconic sorcerer background. She's pretty indifferent about the others, although she might pick up some of Raven's lewd humor.

Iris: An absolute sweetheart of a bard. Natural flirt, of course. Who doesn't love a pretty purple tiefling? As mentioned above, she had a fling with Raven and fell hard. Raven didn't return her feelings, so there's some hard feelings on Iris' end. She would get a long great with everyone, and even get Talon to crack a smile every now and then. She loves to bring positivity to any situation, so it's hard for most people to dislike her, as hard as they might try. Her and Velvet would be best friends.

Kyvoni: He's pretty intimidating on the outside, which he prefers. It keeps most people out of his space and out of his business. He can be snarky, usually going off into asshole territory with some of his sarcasm. Ember and Juniper wouldn't dislike him, but probably wouldn't pursue a friendship with him. They're just too different in that aspect. Him and Raven get along great and have constant banter. They sometimes both have a very lewd sense of humor, which gets on the others nerves quite often lol. Him and Talon would be fine, and have a mutual respect for one another.

Talon: She's very prickly lol. She's pretty abrasive and blunt most of the time, even when it's not needed. She has tattoos over a lot of her body, mostly depicting snakes within them, so she looks intimidating to most people. (I'll figure out how to implement them in game one day.) Due to this, she doesn't get along with most of my other OCs at first, but would eventually warm up to Iris and Velvet, since they would go out of their way to get to know her softer side.

Khione: She's incredibly intelligent, and sweet... most of the time. Think Evie from The Mummy. She is a draconic sorcerer, so of course she's well versed in magic without trying, and specializes in ice magic, though she's not really much of a show-off. She prefers to let her mind impress people. As mentioned above, she's a bookworm and a writer, so her and Ember would get along great, especially after she helps mend her relationship with her sister. Khione can match Raven and Kyvoni when it comes to their wit, which will throw them both off at first, but they'll come to be good friends.

Velvet: She's very much a mix of sweet and spicy. She feels the spice is needed, as some people are put off by her being a half-drow, necromancer, and for her eyes which are black voids. (A side effect from a spell when she was younger and just getting into necromancy.) She would get a long with Talon, despite Talon's spiky nature. They have a lot in common with their backgrounds, so Velvet would be able to crack her shell. Iris constantly comments on how pretty she is, which blossoms their friendship. She would get a long fine with the rest of them, though they might not become as close as Talon and Iris.

If you have any questions about ones I maybe didn't mention together, feel free to ask!

Obviously I love all my bbys, but if I could have one in my party as a companion, it would be Kyvoni. He's an ex member of Zhentarim, and has a long, sordid past he would prefer to keep secret. He would def agree to anything that gets you paid or intimidation tactics at the beginning. He has a bit of a temper, and can be incredibly impulsive. He would be a tough nut to crack in opening up when it comes to his past or feelings about things, whether it be a friendship or romance path. A romance path would def have a scene were he intentionally pushes you away or tries to get you to hate him. He's dangerous, and already had someone close to him hurt because of it. He doesn't want to go through it again and has sworn off of matters of the heart. (Hoping to eventually dig deeper into what everyone would be like as a companion.)

I play all of them simultaneously, just depending on who's story I feel like playing at the time. Sometimes I play a certain character for days; other times, I switch characters multiple times within the hour. Just depends! I actually still haven't finished the game, but didn't really mind ending spoilers, so I have a good idea of who will do what. I'm currently working on act 3 with a lot of them.

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry for the rambling lol. ♡

[mirobami]

Hey! It's been a while since my first request and I absolutely the results! I was wondering if you could give some headcanons on how some of the Bami kids would act if they were to babysit for a day? I just thought it would be hilarious and cute.

↳ babysitting headcanons

❤ GENRE: fluff, a bit of crack.

❤ CHARACTER(S): r. momobami, i. obami, t. totobami, m. honebami, r. batsubami

❤ SYNOPSIS: in request!

❤ NOTE: this was so cuTEEEE i love writing it sm these guys are always fun to write omg (for the sake of the scenario, let's pretend it's your little sibling(s)) let's get into it!

━ RIRIKA MOMOBAMI ;

Has an entire debate with herself as to whether she can wear the mask or not; on one hand, she will feel more confident, on the other, she will scare the child

You tell her that you can provide her with a face mask, just not a full faced one if she doesn't feel comfortable with her showing her entire face

She takes you up on that offer and when she gets there, she takes all the things necessary from you, allowing you to bolt out the door

The child is not even a year old, maybe ten months old, she is just babbling and clenching a crayon in her little fists as she draws nonsensical things that only make sense in whatever is going on in her tiny brain

Ririka is aware that she is not being ignored deliberately, so she sits down and just watches the child doing her own thing, while simultaneously watching if she needs anything

Before long, the child is crawling to Ririka, putting a chubby hand on her leg and Ririka picks her up

"Aw, you look just like Y/N. You're so cute, aren't you?" Ririka can't help saying as the child smiles and coos, trying to grab her mask

Her mask is pulled off by the child and the child is poking Ririka's cheek with a giggle while Ririka smiles

The child actually loves Ririka and falls asleep instantly when Ririka sings her a lullaby

When you come back, Ririka literally says, "I think we bonded a lot, can I come back tomorrow?"

━ IBARA OBAMI ;

Second best babysitter, solely because the kids adore him and he does his best to be a good babysitter

He's so much fun and he has a massive crush on you so when you plead for him to take care of your siblings while you go work at something, he immediately says yes

In his mind, get the siblings' approval means one step closer to maybe winning you over

But when he gets there, he doesn't expect you to slam stuff into his arms and race out of there

The kids are just watching him, waiting for him to say something before going back to playing with their blocks and Legos

They're pretty calm with him and he's having fun watching them build cities with Legos (they even ask him to join them, so he's now acting as Godzilla as they shriek with giggles and run away from him) up until they tug on his hand and say, "It's our naptime, can you tell us a story?"

And so, Ibara finds himself telling the story of the lost princess that willingly traded herself into the dragon's possession, making the kids' eyes light up with wonder

He's already cooking their favorite food by the time they wake up, giving him bonus points by them

They're eating their food while watching TV and that's when you come in, disheveled as ever and are surprised at them being calm: "How did you get these goblins to calm down?"

Ibara shrugged and said, "I dunno, they were pretty chill."

After you throwing your arms around him and him hurriedly leaving, he tells himself that if you ever need him to babysit again, he will

━ TERANO TOTOBAMI ;

Obviously Yumi has to go with her, but for the most part, Terano knows that she is the one in charge of the entire operation

She has memorized each kid's medical history and problems back and forth, knows everything she needs to know from you and she knows that there will be some friends there as well

When she arrives, you quickly hand her everything and Terano waves you away, saying she's got this

One of the kids actually goes, "Oh my God, Professor X!"

Ah, so this is the kid with the Marvel obsession, she thinks and she can clearly hearing Yumi giggling from behind her

The kids are all frolicing and playing games that they've made up while Terano reads a book, but always keeping them in her peripheral vision

When she can see them wanting to play outside, she lets them but has Yumi roll her out with them

Terano thinks that your siblings are generally okay, they're as hyperactive as any other kids and besides, they listen to her

You called them "snot nosed spawns of Satan in gremlin form" but they look normal to her

It isn't until she gives you the report of what happened that they reveal their true colors, determined to make your life a living hell

Terano actually has to hide a smile as she leaves, listening to the Marvel obsessed kid go, "Wait! I didn't get to ask her to enter my mind!"

━ MIROSLAVA HONEBAMI ;

She's great with kids, although they are intimidated by her at first since she's so tall

But once they realize how nice she is, they'll definitely ask her a lot of questions about anything and everything

She's probably the kind to make up some elaborate lies about certain questions

"How do airplanes fly?"

"About fifteen thousand fairies lift the airplane and make it go from place to place."

She doesn't have the heart to tell them the truth and them being all giggly ablut it is so much better

She'd make food for them but she would rather order takeout, after she triple checked their allergies and asked them what they wanted to eat

Already she's their favorite person ever because once the food arrives, she tells them to wash their hands and they obediently do so, patiently waiting for their plates to be handed to them

After eating, she allows them to watch TV but they actually want to play games with her, so she goes through with whatever games they want to play

They want to destroy cardboard cities? Fine, let her set up the boxes first

You arrive and see them all playing games, especially her chasing them and they're screaming as they run away with her, but they have happy smiles on their faces

Miroslava smiles at you as she leaves, saying that she had fun and she'd do it again if you ever wanted her to because the kids and her seemed to have a mutual liking

━ REI BATSUBAMI ;

BEST BABYSITTER BY FAR!

The day you beg her to watch your siblings, she immediately says yes (definitely not because she's hiding a massive crush on you and wants to impress you)

If anyone tells her to watch their kids, she will do so with utmost care and precision, but when it comes to your siblings? Everything that she is told is written down so she never forgets

The kids love her because she's so nice to them and she always plays games with them

However, there will be the occasional chance that they throw temper tantrums, but it's like she's a child whisperer, she knows how to calm them down with a lullaby or by hugging them and rocking them

You described your siblings as little demons, which Rei can't see since they're acting like perfect angels with her

When you come back, your siblings definitely complain and say, "Let Rei stay! We want Rei!"

Rei is laughing at the ordeal because you look offended and she goes, "I can come back another time."

"Or you two can get married so we can see you everyday!"

Yeah, never mind, Rei can see the demonic side of the siblings now

[elmelloill]

i put this on twitter but what if i put it here too! my favorite lines (more like...sections) from the fics I wrote in 2022 :)

(with slightly more commentary than on twitter, perhaps) (edit: a lot more commentary than on twitter)

I included my aa4 zine piece on twitter but I don't think I will here, since I didn't actually write it this year and just happened to post it on ao3 in January after the zine released. So the rest of these are all Waver fics, because in 2022 I finally unlocked the ability to write about him.

i'm the one you can't ignore [rated M, excerpt is some implied nsfw]

So first, I'm so pleased with the concept of this fic. I didn't really take the idea seriously at first but the more I thought about it the more I realized that it's really the premise with the best of both worlds when it comes to the question of whether Iskandar remembers Waver in Chaldea or not. All of Waver's heartbreak and inner conflict AND the actual reunion all in one fic! One of the comments called it a "delicious little misunderstanding" and I love that. I know this is very much tooting my own horn but it's also my most popular fic of them by a Lot so it feels a teeny bit justified. And my goal this year was to write the things i really wanted to read so! I love everything I wrote this year a lot!

Anyway. Excerpt.

He had thought that, in this situation, it wouldn’t make a difference if Iskandar remembered him or not. It was purely physical self-indulgence, after all—what did it matter if Iskandar only thought of him as some attractive stranger to share his bed for a night?

But something in Iskandar’s touch was different now—they had never done this before, not remotely, but it was as though Iskandar had figured him out nonetheless, like he knew even better than Waver did what would make him unravel.

Actually half my reasons for this section being my favorite is because when I thought of it I felt like I unlocked the path to the end of the fic. It was simultaneously like "yes! this is it! this is the whole point!" while also giving me something to talk about through my sex scene that wasn't like, the actual sex, so i was able to get through it without my usual ordeal. But it's also my favorite because I'm just a sucker for the concept of Iskandar seeing straight through Waver, in any context. Being around Iskandar means being subjected to the mortifying ordeal of being known, for Waver, or at least I like to see it that way.

His Rightful Place [rated G]

But despite everything, when he raises his head to meet Iskandar’s gaze, an unassailable sense of reassurance overtakes him, and even though his heart is still pounding hard enough to echo in his ears, he feels as though something has slotted into place in his chest.

Waver Velvet, second-rate mage and stand-in Lord of the Clock Tower, should not be here in this alien place, trying to save the world, but at the same time, looking into his King’s eyes, he knows that he is exactly where he is meant to be.

I actually don't have much more commentary than the title itself. His rightful place! (Shameless use of the CE name because it makes me emotional and I'll never actually have it unless they rerun accel zero order just for me.) This one was fun though, and also sort of started from an idea I didn't take seriously right away. I definitely watched the entire Solomon movie hoping Waver would show up, but if my disappointment led to me writing something about it, then maybe that's fine.

Warmth [rated T, maybe it should be M?? i really couldn't decide.]

I really really wanted to write a kiss and (mostly) just a kiss. Making out is so often just a prelude to smut (in doujins especially. maybe I was flipping through too many doujins at this time lol) so I just really wanted to focus in on the kiss and that's probably why it kind of got out of hand. That and Waver's just so fun to write when he's a repressed gay 19-year-old.

All that said, my favorite part is just about Waver being Seen, again:

Waver hadn’t meant to look at him, but now he couldn’t look away. According to legend, Alexander’s eyes should have been different colors, one dark and one light, but it was hard for Waver to imagine anything more striking than the dark burning crimson that he was so used to. Had anyone ever looked at him the way Rider did? It was frustrating sometimes, how he seemed to see through Waver so easily, but that meant he was actually looking, when so many other people just dismissed Waver at a glance.

Waver couldn’t feign indifference to that gaze. Everything he wanted was laid excruciatingly bare, from his petty ambitions and his desperation for recognition, to the desire he had told himself had no place in the heart of a mage—Waver could hardly stand it, but at the same time…Rider was still looking, wasn’t he? Not with disgust, not with scorn…despite their disastrous first encounter, Alexander the Great was still looking at Waver Velvet with undeniable interest, as though he saw something of value where nobody else had, value that even Waver sometimes doubted was there.

And because I can't get enough of this whole concept, I wrote about it from Iskandar's perspective, next.

Bloom [rated G]

I loved writing this one. Giving myself an excuse to write about Waver's character development in Zero by making it into a fic! Iskandar POV was really fun and I hope to use it a little more in the future. While it isn't the excerpt I chose as my favorite, I really liked thinking about him getting excited about talking to Waver about the Iliad. I love when Fate points out (accurately) that he's basically a huge fanboy when it comes to Homer.

But I basically centered the fic around this metaphor so, it should be the chosen excerpt:

He’s changed.

He had the feeling of watching a desert flower burst into bloom after the briefest deluge. It was always a delight to witness the prickliest, most forbidding plants unfurl the sweetest blossoms after a rare rain, and Iskandar felt the same satisfaction now. His first impressions had not been wrong—Waver was weak and cowardly, overconcerned with frivolous matters, impatient, self-centered—but the spines and the flowers were of the same plant, after all, and it was just a matter of the proper conditions to bring out one or the other.

While this fic was largely just inspired by the thought of Waver wrapped up in Iskandar's mantle (shout out to the 4th hgw for taking place in February) I think I was also influenced by the scene right before Iskandar fights Saber (which I happened to be rewatching) because I hadn't noticed before how Waver stands next to him and just sort of...holds on to the mantle while he thinks about Iskandar's history and ideals. Prior to the scene on the bridge, it really felt like a point where Waver's attitude towards Iskandar is shown in it's final form, more or less, so I sort of wanted to place this fic directly before that scene and show Iskandar's feelings reaching that point, too.

Okay that's it! I had a lot of fun writing this year even if I didn't write a lot. My goal was just to create the things that I really wanted to see and I think I accomplished it, even if I still have things I'm working on that I haven't finished yet. If you read and enjoyed any of my fics this year, thank you!!!

[lemoncheesecakecoffeecrumble]

A Poem of Woe: A Literary Analysis on the Anthology, ”Lockdown Litanies: Countless Untold Stories” a Paper by Alessandra Micaella Diaz

While reading the poems, It is evidence that, despite the fact that everything in the world is beautiful, we sometimes find beauty to be heartbreaking. This is similar to how this poem is a masterpiece, but it still saddens me. I'm reminded of a few things after reading it. A flawless sand structure will be swept away by the currents in a minute or two, regardless of how long I observe it. A sunset that is so flawless it overflows into the sky. Or a classical picture, languishing in a museum like a lonely prisoner, can never be finished no matter how long you stare at it. But maybe being fragile is part of being beautiful. Perhaps there is always room for improvement in the arts, whether through erasure or transformation.

I realized as I was reading Dear Diary that nothing, not even you, is ever genuinely eternal. It makes me sad to think that it will always remain a part of us despite our best efforts. The only option left to us is to try our best to cope. Because of this line in the poem, "Meeting strangers for warmth and solace, wanting for more but all was left in me, I ended up alone," the first song that came to mind was I'm With You - Avril Lavigne (Lyrics) 🎵. Her song is about trying to distract herself from loneliness by meeting strangers and figuring out her life. It shows that everything will change, so prepare for it.

One of my favorite poems was the second one. It makes me think of the 2022 election, especially with regard to Leni Robredo, our former vice president. I'll never forget how she raised our hopes for a better presidency, but, as in the poem, she lost. Furthermore, we see how she gets up and continues to think of ways to help us, exactly like in the poem. When you read the poem and the song ROSAS (OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO) simultaneously, the music hits differently.

This poem makes me feel as though I could write someone using the most complex adjectives from my vocabulary, write them on aromatic paper, and send them white roses as a gesture of appreciation. However, despite the years passing, I have yet to come up with a different way to quit writing for you. It is as if I wrote everything for the men who crossed my path while still thinking of you. It has some connection to Joji - Glimpse of Us Like Yayi felt between her husband and Dante, the lyrics that truly got to me were "Why then, if she is so perfect, do I still wish that it was you?"

Two Red Lace on the Wonderwall is comparable to meeting someone who then introduces you to an entirely new realm that you had no idea existed. A setting where you can be who you are, even when you're with that person. A world where you can finally hold someone in reality—someone who tells you what you want to hear and listens to what you want to say—and where you can stop visualizing yourself in a make-believe setting. Someone who gives meaning to love songs once more. A person who seems too good to be true but is in fact true. Because of how she describes the man, and if you read the poem again, it states there that she already tried it with several men, it's similar to the line from the song "If Life Is a Movie Then You're the Best Part" Daniel Caesar & H.E.R - Best Part (Lyrics)

It is about a child who values his mother as well as the mother who represents how wonderful ladies can be. Tragically, life keeps us from living in a way that is empty of pain. The poem makes me think of a line from Ariana Grande - God is a woman (Lyric Video): "You, you love it how I move you. You love it how I touch you." The line may not make sense to other people, but it makes me think of a child appreciating and adoring his mother for taking wonderful care of him.

Callousness is shown in the poem RE: Paper (I'm Red, IMRaD)*. There is absolutely nothing wrong with aiming for a greater state of education, but a lack of capabilities can crush the dreams of young people who had high hopes of finishing their studies early to enable them to bring food for their family, to help the parents who has to carry out two jobs to pay for tuition. I am sure that those decisions were carefully considered, but there were numerous students and families who had hardships concerning that statement.The song "Shawn Desman - Difference (Philippine Poverty)" comes to mind when I read this.

It's difficult to forget that everything has an end because of the cruelty of this world, but it must be remembered. Our daily burdens might be small or so heavy that we are no longer able to shoulder them. If we don't correctly employ our thoughts, it will poison us. It creates scenes and motion pictures that could exist inside of us. Just terrible that some people allowed it to enter their minds. The poem gave me a glimpse into the mind of a self-murderer. $uicideBoy$ – ...And To Those I Love, Thanks For Sticking Around (Lyric Video) is the poem that goes with it.

Our wellbeing is impacted by certain people's viewpoints, which can make us feel alone, unheard, and kept in the dark. The poem My Frail Lady struck me for how inviting and soothing it is to read while still invoking powerful emotion. It shows a young woman who committed suicide after searching for serenity and discovering it. The way they made her dying lovely was so well done.Taylor Swift – peace (Official Lyric Video) comes to mind since all she ever wanted was for there to be peace.

It's wonderful to have loved ones that help, support, believe in, and try to comprehend us during times when we don't know what we're all about. In the poem, the fortune teller is the one who makes an effort to comprehend the speaker, acting as though they were giving a friend who needed some guidance, I may connect this poem to Umbrella - Rihanna (Lyrics) 🎵, whose line "You can stand under my umbrella" is equivalent to the phrase "I got your back, dude!"

Last but not least, it is not our fault that we are simply frail, prone to error. Our shortcomings are not our fault. It has been easier for me to grasp how our experiences have influenced both our lives and those around us since this anthology has made me aware of people's diverse personalities and aspects. It gave me a fresh viewpoint on how someone might maintain hope in the midst of tragedy. It shows that even if everything in the world is beautiful, we typically find beauty to be painful.

[dick-nightwing-grayson]

I have this personal head canon that I like to delve into sometimes. It is that Bruce adopts a kid who does NOT turn into a vigilante and just has like, zero interest in any crime fighting or the underworld of Gotham. His name is Andrew Wayne and he is just a normal guy. He goes to college and becomes an elementary school teacher (he currently teaches 4th grade [9-10 yo for my non-american friends] after a few years of teaching second grade[7-8]) He lives a normal life.

Of course, he is still a Wayne, so he goes to all of the galas and presents under the Wayne name, but doesn't really have anything to do with Wayne Enterprises. He lives at Wayne manor and just has a completely separate idea of what counts as excitement and fun.

There is a weekly family dinner and everyone is going on about their week: arresting bad guys, fighting fear toxin, broken limbs, bank heists, saving a group of high schoolers from a building about to collapse, etc. Then it is Andrew's turn and he just expresses the utmost joy that him and Mike (his best friend and manager of the local grocery store) are going bowling next Saturday. Then he shares how he found a new lesson plan for math that incorporates measuring in a new way. The worst part of his week was his expo markers all drying out so he had to use the projector because he couldn't write on the board until administration brought him some new ones. He is utterly annoyed he had to stay until 5pm on Thursday grading papers he got behind on.

The family all acts (or is genuinely) just as interested in his stories as everyone else's. Sometimes, to mess with his family, he has his student's write stories about their favorite superheroes. He brings home the best or cringiest stories to read. This can end up being both simultaneously the best and worst part of the week for some members of the family...

It always annoys Damian when a kid references Robin, but is actually talking about Dick, Jason, or Tim's version (which happens 90% of the time). He likes to critique each piece and feels it necessary to verbalize all mistakes. He gives a grade to each paper and insists Andrew make it so. Andrew giving a paper a grade higher than Damian sees fit always angers him and he tries to intimidate Andrew to change it, but Andrew just ignores him. Jason gets annoyed when something he did is attributed to someone else, but would never let anyone know it because hearing kids be excited and have interest in writing makes him ecstatic. He beams with pride one day when a kid writes how intimidating it is when red Hood takes off his helmet to reveal a domino mask underneath. He enjoys the sweet validation.. Dick enjoys every story regardless of what it says. He is also the person who has to help keep Damian in check during this exercise. Duke rarely cares about the content of the story, but just appreciates some of the great writing abilities the kids possess. Andrew often takes his suggestions and praise most seriously and will give his kids advice based on what Duke says. Stephanie likes to pretend everything is now fact for about a week and will tease members accordingly. Tim pretends he thinks the whole thing is silly and is above it, but secretly hearing the kids mention him or his exploits makes him more proud of anything because he used to look up to the batman and robin how the kids do. Cass feels the exercise is bittersweet- she loves the creativity, but wishes she had the opportunity to go to school and do kid things like this. This sadness lasts only a moment before something makes her laugh or she looks around and sees a big smiling family she now calls her own. Babs hacks the school system and gives every kid an A on their stories because she thinks Andrew grades too harshly.

Then there is Bruce. He always has the most varying reactions to Andrew. He hears about the markers and gifts Andrew a box that he can keep and then donates a bunch to the school. He often does this, sometimes to Andrew's annoyance. He cringes when students write untrue things. He rolls his eyes whenever Superman is mentioned. He laughs when a kid writes that they saw Spoiler and Red Hood buying chili dogs at the local deli and arguing whether cheese is actually necessary to truly enjoy them. At the end of it all, he is just proud that Andrew is doing what he is passionate about, and is a true hero, just like everyone else in the family.

[reflectingiridescent]

Character Ask Game: Sophie Devereaux for 2, 5, 8, 14, and 27

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you've sent me a character I don't like)

I loved Sophie's introduction because it hits a lot of buttons I like watching: she's so socially apt while she's so bad on stage. And Nate's clearly enamored with her. It drew me in. I wanted to know why he was so into her, and I love a multi-faceted woman who holds a ton of contradictions.

What tipped me over into "I really like you" was maybe in The Miracle Job, when she was able to speak to Nate (she's the one who brings it up, actually) about Maggie, with such openness and earnestness. She holds a lot of space for Nate, and it was rare for me at that point in my life (I was like 15?) to see a character be in a situation like that without any of the kneejerk jealousy I was used to seeing in fiction.

5. My favorite ship of them

One of the reasons why I didn't read fanfiction for Leverage very much when I was younger (and certainly didn't write any of it) was because Sophie and Nate's relationship journey was so satisfying for me (laid out in lots of detail here). But I also consider them to be pretty poly, especially Sophie. <3

8. Your favorite outfit of them

HANDS DOWN the gold sparkly dress (+ matching shoes and clutch!) from The Lonely Hearts Job.

14. Best storyline they had

Omg, this is so hard. I'd say it's her identity arc. I know that's kind of her main arc, and it's so beautifully executed over the course of the show. But in my opinion, the most brilliant manifestation of it comes not from her name but in the two instances we get the "alternate team", in s2 and s4.

The first time, Sophie has neither had her self-realization nor gone off on her self-sojourn, so she doesn't get a team alternate. She's the light and dark versions of her role simultaneously, which just drives home the point that what she's doing isn't sustainable.

The second time, Sophie understands who she is and what she is to the team, and so she does get an alternate. And the alternate...is Maggie. Which says something about how Sophie has accepted her own darkness, because Maggie's definitely the "good" twin out of the two of them (every single other member of the team is the "good" twin, but not Sophie?). But it's another way Leverage never really lets us forget that Sophie's really, really dangerous, and we're lucky that she chooses to use her powers for good.

That's the other part of Sophie's arc that I really like, how it's her choices that make all the difference, more than anyone else.

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet?

Oh man. Back in the day I dreamed of her teaming up with Fiona Glenanne from Burn Notice. Like, Fiona's more of a hitter than a grifter, but she's in the spy game! Sophie rubs elbows with people in the spy game. Fiona's heavy-handed and fiery. Sophie's light-fingered and emotional (but definitely not fiery). They met during Fiona's IRA days. They bond over having relocated to the US. They go to fabulous parties together and teach each other stuff. It's fun.

Send me a character and some questions!

[spockandawe]

I cannot for love or money let go of the idea that like... I don’t think Lan Wangji canonically was sleeping with Jiang Cheng while Wei Wuxian was dead. But I’m enthralled how easy it would be to slot that into place in the story. And my favorite part of Jiang Cheng is how messily he’s emotionally imploding in the story present, and the big reason I would argue why lan wangji/jiang cheng didn’t actually happen is because I think the present would have been so much messier, but... that’s also exactly why I’m so delighted by the idea of just. Slipping it in there and seeing just how much hotter this dumpster fire can get.

Like, Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji are both MESSES in their own ways in this story. Jiang Cheng’s turmoil is loud and obvious, while Lan Wangji’s is a lot more self-contained (I was hit harder than I expected by lan xichen’s callout where he was like ‘IT WAS SO OBVIOUS HOW HE FELT’ and wei wuxian just completely blacked out that couple of days, and he’s been fake-flirting with lan wangji while lan wangji thinks he knows exactly how he feels and is so gentle despite how from his pov wei wuxian has been pretty darn cruel and AUGH). But also, I just got my heart broken by the way the main story ended on the note of Jiang Cheng failing to tell Wei Wuxian that he didn’t go back to Lotus Pier to get his parents’ bodies, he went back because he drew the attention of the Wen soldiers to protect Wei Wuxian, and I’m gonna CRY.

Jiang Cheng is a fragile, brittle mess on the whole, and while I wouldn’t say that he’s hungry for love in general, he’s desperate for approval from His People (and since his parents have both failed him hard on that count and his sect was effectively exterminated, that adds up to wwx and jyl). And when Wei Wuxian dies, he’s left horribly wounded over losing everyone he’s ever loved, blaming Wei Wuxian for it, blaming Wei Wuxian to break his promise to stay by his side, and, very importantly, blaming himself for not being enough to protect and/or keep the people he loves. I don’t want to rehash his whole arc, but these are critical character notes.

And if a horrible, grief-stricken, ill-considered affair between Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng, possibly even a long-running (if irregular) affair, I think... I think they would hurt each other too much for it to be healthy, or for it to be a relationship-relationship. But they’re both overflowing with emotional wounds, and Lan Wangji is observant, and even if he gives Jiang Cheng less to work with, Jiang Cheng is real good at spamming attacks until he finds something that hurts. Knowing each other’s weak spots so that you can hurt each other isn’t a healthy kind of intimacy, but it’s still a kind of intimacy. And in general, I also feel like Jiang Cheng would be pretty awful at keeping as much internal emotional distance as he intends in their not-relationship. I’m not going to write this essay right now, but I’ve got thoughts about this.

But, where I’m headed. Is the present day. Where Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are still desperately, hopelessly hunting for any hint of Wei Wuxian, and understanding each other and spending more time near each other than they want(?) because of that shared goal.

And then Wei Wuxian comes back. And Wei Wuxian chooses Lan Wangji.

The POTENTIAL of this implosion!!! I don’t want to undervalue what we get in canon, because canon DELIGHTS me. But just imagine the doubled blow, when Jiang Cheng is abruptly ditched by the two people who understand him the best, who each had.... in theory some kind of connection with him. He melts down terribly just over Wei Wuxian still being alive, and i don’t think it’s even possible to untangle how much anger is thanks to how he wants to hate Wei Wuxian vs how much is being upset over Wei Wuxian choosing someone else, again. But what if we add, simultaneously, more of a meltdown because his not-boyfriend has ditched their not-relationship without a backwards glance, and he stole Wei Wuxian when he knows how much this means to Jiang Cheng, and that reluctant/resentful intimacy between them taking an abrupt turn into a mutual jealous mistrust, and they could be such a tag-team if they trusted each other enough to share, or were forced to share early. But Lan Wangji got the first opening and he took it, and neither of them is certain enough of Wei Wuxian’s love to even consider sharing after that imbalance is in place.

Part of what fascinates me is because Jiang Cheng is already doing Not Great for a lot of canon, and I just. I want to add more fuel to the fire. As far as canon goes, he got hit with that Complete Abandonment truck way back in the past, and has had time to cope and push some of those issues down. So...... what if we hit him with the truck again, and he’s taken super off-guard, because it wasn’t supposed to be possible again, but, you know, your brother rises from the dead and two seconds later your not-boyfriend elopes with him, it’s a little hard to predict things like that. I want more reasons for him to be upset with Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and himself. I want extra concern from Jin Ling as he watches Jiang Cheng refuse to admit that anything is wrong. I’m assuming that Lan Wangji would be prepared to keep this secret until he died, but that Jiang Cheng would 1000% spill the beans in his meltdown at Lotus Pier (oh my god, the ways that would flavor the first wangxian sex scene, holy shit), and that Jiang Cheng would be an extra messy wreck when he shows up at the guanyin temple

And also, I very much want a scene where Lan Wangji tries to reassure Wei Wuxian that yes, okay, he slept with Jiang Wanyin, but don’t worry, it didn’t mean anything, and Wei Wuxian is upset because ‘hold on, you slept with him and it didn’t mean anything? Lan Zhan, how could you? he’s very sensitive!! :(’

[wave0fg00dvibes]

Baby - Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer’s daughter tries to tell him that she’s “not a baby anymore.” He doesn’t take it too well.

A/N: I’M FREAKING BACK, BABY! It has been so long and I’m so very sorry. Here is some tooth-rotting fluff for y’all because I love you. I actually wrote this for the lovely @thekatherinewinchester​ as a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, and it was SO fun to write. It also really helped me to have a deadline. I think I’m going to try to do that more often!

Please leave feedback if you have any! Lots and lots and LOTS of love, as always.

Category: FLUFF

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 1.7K

------------------------

The first time our daughter attempted to assert her independence, she had just turned 6 years old.

A morning routine with two young children was often chaotic, to say the least. However, the first day of school was always a special one. For some reason, something about this particular September morning made me extra grateful and reflective, even among the disarray. 

1 ½ year old Grayson sat in his highchair, babbling nonstop. Though he had only just started eating his applesauce, it completely covered his face and arms. Before I knew it, he was using his spoon to fling the food onto the floor. 

Was that an issue on the top of my priority list right now? Nope.

Ava sat at the kitchen table, swinging her legs and eating her cereal with the enthusiasm of an excited 1st grader. Her polka dot dress and matching headband were neatly and meticulously adjusted, revealing the hidden nerves within her initial excitement.

The small TV on the counter was tuned into the local news, though no one ever really listened. Even if anyone wanted to pay attention, Grayson’s babbling would probably drown it out anyway. It was mostly just background noise. But, selfishly, I liked to know the state the world was in before my husband left our home each morning to go make it better, safer. I liked to at least have some idea of what he was going to encounter, even if it meant certain days were filled with anxiety and worry. 

Dealing with the unease and stress was a small price to pay for the unceasing love and immeasurable happiness.

To be honest, I never imagined a world where I’d be simultaneously getting our children ready for the day and scrambling eggs for Spencer as he slept in after a long night of work. I never imagined his severe, draining job would let us have even a sliver of happy domesticity. But, as I scraped the last of the eggs onto his now-full plate, I reflected on how lucky the universe had deemed us. This shouldn’t be a reality, and yet, I couldn't imagine our life together any differently.

“Mama?” The voice of my sweet girl snapped me out of my reflective moment. 

“What is it, Ava?” I asked, momentarily pausing my motions. She turned around in her chair to face me, eagerness lighting up her small face.

“I’m really excited to go back to school.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She truly was her father’s daughter in every capacity.

“I’m so glad! You’re going to have an amazing day!”

Her bright, golden eyes sparkled, and she turned back to finish her cereal.

Spencer would definitely be up soon. There was no way he was going to miss the sendoff of his favorite girl on her first day of 1st grade.

There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that Ava was going to blow all of her teachers away. I insisted on keeping her in kindergarten for her first year of school so she could make friends and get used to that type of social environment, but now that she was starting more difficult content, I knew all bets were off. She was absolutely going to skip grades, make breakthroughs, and undoubtedly change the world. 

But, thankfully, that was a conversation for another day, and one Spencer was undoubtedly going to have to help me through.

At that very moment, my sweet husband rushed into the kitchen, fastening his tie as he jogged. Even in his disheveled haste, the elation in his face and pep in his clumsy steps revealed that he was just as excited about this day as Ava, if not more.

Grayson babbled in the happiest tone he could muster at the sight of his daddy, and I couldn’t help but smile right along with him.

“Good morning, buddy!” Spencer smiled, crouching to meet Grayson’s eye level and pinch his chubby, applesauce covered cheek.

The tiny gesture took me back to a time when Spencer’s cares and worries were much different. Back then, he would never have thought to voluntarily reach for the grubby face of an infant, no matter how cute. But, six years and two kids later, this was a beautiful reminder of how much we had both changed, and how lucky we were to grow together and not apart. 

However, in true Spencer Reid fashion, as soon as he was done making silly faces at our son,  he padded over the sink to rid his hands of the sticky, grimy applesauce.

Everything may be different now, but some things never change. 

As I packed Ava’s lunch, I felt his eyes on me from behind. Before I knew it, he lightly turned me away from my task and wrapped his arms completely around me, leaning down to rest his head on my shoulder.

“Thank you.” He softly whispered.

Forgetting the rush of the morning for a moment, I let myself sink into the embrace. For though our lives plowed forward at seemingly a million miles an hour, moments like these kept me grounded, sane. 

“For what?” I asked.

“The extra sleep. The food. The babies. Everything.” 

The case they returned from last night must have been a nasty one. Spencer was a very affectionate person, but something about this profession felt heavier. 

Nevertheless, even after so many years, he still had the ability to make my heart skip a beat.

I pulled back from the hug to smile up at him, running my hands up his arms to get lost in his hair. His eyes reflected utter joy and gratitude, despite the fact that he had undoubtedly seen some horrifying things for the past few days. 

“I love you so much.” The words flew out before I could stop them. Of course, I meant them with my whole heart, the phrase just seemed so mundane compared to my ever-growing, aching love for him. 

The love in his eyes and sparkle in his smile told me he knew. He always knew.

He pressed a slow, firm kiss to my lips, hands coming to rest gently on my hips as we slowly swayed together. 

“I love you too.” He whispered, and before I could fully savor it, the restless world started turning again. 

Stealing moments with him would forever make my heart sing, but today needed to be about our sweet girl and nothing else. After all, according to her the first day of 1st grade marks the “beginning of the true educational journey.” Lord knows we couldn’t miss a second of that.

Spencer quickly walked over to the plate I had ready for him, setting it across from Ava at the table and kissing her head as he passed.

“Good morning, baby! Are you excited for your first day?”

Ava was silent. I felt the air in the room change as she put down her spoon and looked up at him, features completely serious. Somehow, I knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth, and Spencer was not going to like it.

“Daddy. I am not a baby.”

As expected, Spencer choked on the small piece of egg he had just attempted to swallow. In spite of the sad punch of the reality that my sweet girl was growing up, I nearly snorted, covering my mouth with my hand so as to not offend her.

Spencer looked absolutely dumbfounded.

“But, you are technically my baby-” He attempted to explain.

Ava was not having it. She took a deep breath, pushing her bowl of lucky charms aside so she could fold her hands in front of herself on the table. 

“The term ‘baby’ is applied to infants from birth to the age of 1, and then sometimes to toddlers from ages 1 to 4. I am 6 now, daddy, so technically I have already let you get away with it for an extra year.”

Oh, my girl. What a little firecracker she was. No one in the entire world besides her could silence Dr. Spencer Reid with one sentence.

Spencer sat there at a loss for words, fork still in hand, clearly trying to formulate a coherent sentence. 

“But…”

The school bus pulled up in front of our house with impeccable timing. 

“Ava honey, the bus is here!” I gladly interrupted, shoving the lunchbox into her backpack and zipping it up.

Her poor father. I had never seen his jaw drop for so long before. 

But, as always, there was no time to unpack in the current moment. That would have to be a later conversation. 

Ava excitedly got down from the table, running to put her dishes in the sink before grabbing her backpack and putting it on with complete elation. I lifted Grayson from the highchair, quickly wiping off his applesauce-covered face with the ratty old t-shirt of Spencer’s I was wearing. By that time, Spencer had slightly snapped out of his trance in order to help Ava put on her sparkly converse shoes and matching coat. 

The four of us were greeted by the autumn breeze as we stepped out onto the front porch. Spencer and I instinctively bent down to simultaneously kiss her cheeks, and she hugged our necks with the fervor of all the love in the world. She gave Grayson a small cheek kiss as well before turning away to start her new educational adventure.

“Have the best day, sweet girl!” I yelled after her as she sprinted down the driveway to the bus. She waved in reply. Though I couldn't have been prouder of her, I couldn’t help but notice the new missing piece of my heart that seemingly got on the school bus with her. 

It was at that moment that I realized Spencer hadn’t said a single word since his baby proclaimed otherwise. He still looked like he had seen a ghost.

“You alright there, old man?” I playfully nudged him with my shoulder, bouncing Grayson on my hip. 

“But she… she is my baby…”

I smiled, knowingly, trying to hide the small pain that struck my heart at the thought of Ava growing up. There were no words I could say that would calm his racing heart in the moment. So, I held our smallest baby a little bit tighter and leaned up to lightly brush my lips against Spencer’s.

“I know. Me too.”

[hansolmates]

cherry contact |🍒

summary: jihoon has access to all versions of you - your credit score, shopping habits, work emails, even your terrible tinder history. pairing; fbi agent!jihoon x civilian!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, it’s really just that “your fbi agent” meme that caused everyone 8 years ago to put tape over their webcams, questionable viewing habits for an fbi agent, language, dick talk, mentions of sex, jihoon has feelings and is confused, he is a PINER, tw—sexual harassment  w/c; 3.3k  a/n; i can’t believe i finished this😭😭 part of meraki’s job collaboration and i’ve been dying to do a svt collab since the dawn of time and finally today’s the day! it’s been a hot moment since i’ve written for jihoon, glad i managed to get those svt writing muscles going! a huge thank you to @merakiiverse​ and @woozisnoots​ for putting this together. readers pls definitely check back on the masterlist linked above to see more of the other talented cwc writers and their rendition of the job prompt!

if you like this fic please consider giving it a like n’share!🤓🖥🤓🖥

“Kevin, 32, works at Kodak,” you scroll further to the description, “I love being tied up and need a dominatrix, have swing at home—no.” Swipe right. 

“Lisa, 24, works at Infinity Dance Studio,” you definitely are weak for athletic ladies, “My hobbies include cuticle care and online shopping! Looking for a sugar daddy or mommy that can spoil me rotten—definitely can’t afford that kind of relationship.” Swipe right. 

“Hansol, 26, works in an art museum,” sounds promising, you love art, “wait, why are all his pictures of him holding fish? Is he inside a fish? Who the heck finds that attractive?” Swipe right. 

“Billiam, 31, works in finance. Needs a bratty baby girl who can triangle,” you grimace, “what is with these guys and stating their kinks from the get-go? Gotta take a girl out to dinner first, and the fuck is a triangle?” 

You swore off Tinder since the dark ages, also known as senior year of college. However you’re in a particular slump, thirst-trapped between needing some serious dick and a committed relationship. You’d prefer the latter, but after a stressful day at work and the fact that it’s the ass crack o’dawn, you’ll take what you can get. 

“Bye Billiam,” you sing-song into your phone, moving to swipe right. 

Except you accidentally drop your phone between your sheets, and when you pick it up you accidentally swipe left. 

“Fuck fuck fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget!” you cry out into oblivion. You’re so glad you live alone at the very least, it stops you from looking like a crazy person when you talk your potential sexipades out. 

Billiam has Super-liked you! 

“No. Nononono—” you bludgeon your head against your pillow, frowning when your phone opens up a chat for you and Billiam. 

Billiam: hi can u check if my dick is too small

You: please, don’t send me a picture of your dick. 

Billiam is typing… 

You: for fuck’s sake—

“—that’s disgusting,” Jihoon curses, and immediately sends out the screenshot for sexual harassment. 

“What’s disgusting?” Mingyu chimes, swiveling in his spinny chair from his side of the room.

“Don’t look,” Jihoon gags, reaching for a bottle of Coca-Cola from the mini-fridge. “You’ll throw up your fried chicken.” 

“My person is a twenty-one year old nympho who also happens to be a incel,” Mingyu chastises to his screen, closing up the eighth tab of BBC porn he’s seen this week, “he doesn’t know how well he’s avoiding the FBI’s eyes,” Mingyu shakes his head, “so I’ve seen some pretty bad shit, but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“No,” he echoes your name like you’ve done the most heinous thing in the world, “no, no! Why would you swipe left on Jackson? You’re way out of his league! He literally looks like he has a pea-sized brain!” 

“He does look like he has half a brain cell,” your voice reverberates through his noise-cancelling headphones, unknowingly agreeing to Jihoon’s passionate throw of anger, “but I’m deprived and desperate, so!” 

It’s like you can hear his sentiments exactly. 

“Literally, you could have any person you want,” Jihoon chastises through his desktop, glaring heavily at your bedroom camera, “you’re wasting your time with these losers!” 

Oblivious, you let yourself dangle across the bed. The camera isn’t the best quality, but Jihoon watches intently at the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to fall into a fitful sleep. 

“Some yell at screens for soccer,” Minghao says to the air from his cubicle, “some yell for Starcraft, but Jihoon yells for Tinder like it’s an Olympic sport.” 

“Jihoonie,” Mingyu rolls around his chair, resting a long arm over the backrest, “do you have a crush on your civilian?” 

Jihoon immediately swivels around his hair, meeting the amused eyes of Mingyu. “No,” he says sharply, whipping around to glare at his screen. 

He glares harder the longer Mingyu’s simple question sinks in. He doesn’t have a crush on you, he likes you. Jihoon swallows his sigh, wondering why you would want to go as low as Tinder to look for a potential tryst. From your profile, you’re absolutely beautiful and intelligent. You have simple pleasures that match his—a hot cup of tea right after dark, snuggling under a weighted blanket while watching anime, and sleeping in on Sundays.

Unlike him, you don’t see the world through half a dozen lenses and a plethora of information right at your fingertips. No, you’re lucky. 

“Hey can you grab me my water bottle?” Mingyu asks over his shoulder. 

Jihoon thinks nothing of it, leaving his post for the thirty seconds it takes to get to the mini-fridge and grab Mingyu’s Hydroflask. 

“You got a call,” Mingyu says when he plops the bottle on his desk, indicating to the red blinker on Jihoon’s computer. 

It isn’t until he puts on his headphones does he take care to see why his blinker is going off. 

He’s getting an incoming call. From you. 

You’ve been waiting on the line for about two minutes. He lets two additional minutes breeze by because Jihoon is internally screaming. You’re calling again. There’s a fire blazing in his brain, his fingers hot as he twitches against the spacebar of his keyboard. 

From the monitor he can see that you’ve given up on sleep, hands pawing through your drawer so you can take a final swipe at your magenta-tinted lip balm before nesting yourself in the sheets. You’re kicking around as if you don’t have work at 9AM, smacking your lips to apply the shiny salve while you wait for your call to be picked up. 

“Why is my civilian calling me,” it isn’t a question, it’s a thinly veiled indication that Jihoon is ready to fight whoever compromised him like this. 

Mingyu and Minghao fail to answer. That’s okay, he isn’t opposed to killing both if neither fess up. 

It would be so easy for him to ignore the call, or redirect it to another part of the office. Yet he aches to talk to you, for real talk to you. As if you’re just two regular plain-old human beings with normal lives, and as if he didn’t know every nook and cranny about your daily routine and your favorite breakfast foods.

Call it pride, call it confidence, but Jihoon’s been pretty good at games and he hopes prior experience helps him get over this hurdle. Slipping on his headset, he accepts the call and answers in a controlled voice, “This is the local hotline for sexual harassment reports, are you here to report a case?” 

Okay, so this is the closest thing he can get to having a full-fledged conversation with you, so he’ll take it. 

“Hi,” you mumble your name into the phone, and he nearly disintegrates right then and there. It’s different when he can hear your voice directly in his ears, definitively reaching out to him as opposed to being a fly on the wall, “I received an email that a report was sent out for my previous chat as sexual harassment, but I didn’t send out a report.” 

“Yes,” Jihoon replies smoothly, tapping his nails against his thighs, “it’s a new update.” 

“Oh, well thank you,” you reply, and Jihoon sees from the camera that you’re staring at your phone in curiosity. 

“It’s my job,” he says, and the words hold more weight than you think, “are you okay?” 

“Is it also your job to ask how I’m doing?” 

He smiles wryly, and he looks up at the monitor to see how you’ve considerably relaxed on your bed. Your legs dangle in the air, and you’re hugging a mango plushie with all the love in the world. “Not really, but I figured I’d ask. I don’t think I’d be able to recover from a dick that looks like an unhinged toenail.” 

Your laugh flutters in his ears, and his stomach is flip-flopping with more than just his shitty ramen lunch. Your face curls and wrinkles into happiness at the lewd joke, and you rest your chin on your stuffed fruit. 

“I’m okay,” you finally answer, “it’s not the first time I’ve seen subpar dick. But thank you… what’s your name?” 

“Uji,” he says, a codename that he considers as precious as his actual name, “feel free to call or text this number if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable and in distress.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night Uji.” 

“Good night.” 

That wasn’t so bad, Jihoon thinks as he hangs up the phone. He dims the monitors to let you freshen up and get ready for bed, as per your schedule. After tonight, he hopes he can be sated with his curiosity of you. Maybe he needs to follow your plans and open up a dating account or something, he feels that he’s starting to get a little too engrossed in your presence. 

The waning starts today. 

You: help, i’m feeling uncomfortable and in distress

Uji: what is it this time? 

You: i can’t decide which weighted blanket i should get. Will more weight make me feel more comforted or will i accidentally suffocate myself in my sleep? 

The waning of you did not start that night, in fact it never began. Jihoon’s been on edge for weeks, simultaneously teetering between what he calls the high-school equivalent of the talking stage and an absolute catastrophe. 

It started as an accident, you meant to call your friend’s number for cooking help but since the last call before your friends was his, you called Jihoon instead. To your surprise, he knew how to roll out homemade pasta without a pasta machine. You kept him on the call for the entirety of dinner preparation, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride when your pasta turned out perfect and you were happy and full for the entire night. 

Weeks later, and you’ve been texting each other for shits and giggles. At first you chalk up your insistence that he’s basically Human Google and has the answers to seemingly anything and everything, but over time it seems that you enjoy your daily interactions with him. Whether it be a simple phone call asking how to unclog your drain or a screenshot comparing two different KitchenAids, he’s at your disposal. 

The burner phone he’s been holding as of late is on silent, but he’s able to pick it up immediately. It’s almost intuition, coupled with the way he notices whenever you seem in a pickle and you need to contact him. However he does not have a chance to formulate a reply, as you’re now calling him.

“Couldn’t wait?” he speaks as if you’re familiar with each other, as if you’re friends. Jihoon longs for that so much, he would love to be upgraded to someone other than the IT guy you text for funsies. 

“Yes,” you say, voice laced with determination, “I’m deciding on whether to just like or Super-Like this guy on Light a Flame.” 

Jihoon deflates a little, but steels himself. You’d never want to go on a date with the IT guy, it seems that you enjoy the anonymity of your recent communications. Your conversations are definitely meme-worthy. 

“Who is it?” 

“His name’s Lee Jihoon, 25, works in the FBI.” 

He chokes on his coffee, precious beans from Argentina, and the liquid is flying across his keyboard. 

Pulling up your phone view, it confirms the worst. In a moment of Weakness with a capital W, Jihoon had caved and made a Light a Flame profile the other night. It’s an app reserved for more serious relationships, which means you’ve finally graduated from Tinder. 

“Are you okay?” he wants to cry when he hears you on the other line, genuinely panicked. “Do you need me to send you his profile?” 

“N-no,” he sputters, rubbing a rough napkin from McDonalds over his dripping chin. He thought he privated his profile last week after he realized there was nothing he could do to let loose of you. Turns out that isn’t the case, because you’re currently pursuing his profile and actually kinda-sorta considering him for a potentially serious relationship. 

“C’mon, Uji,” you tease lightly, “you always seem to know what to do. This is your area of expertise after all, since you work for that kind of department.” 

What should he do, scratch that, what can he do? It’s a complete violation of policy to be fraternizing with his civilian life. Sure, there has been episodes of civilians and agents meeting each other, but only minor violations that both parties forgot about shortly after. He’s so far deep at this point, he can risk being relocated or losing his civilian—losing you. 

“Do you think he really works in the FBI?” you say when he doesn’t reply immediately, “he’s really cute, though. Totally looks like my style, and he likes My Hero as well! C’mon, I just need for you to check as to whether he’s a homicidal maniac or a compulsive liar.” 

Liar. He’s a liar. 

That self-accusation prompts him to slump in defeat, and he mumbles in the phone, “I don’t think he’s worth it. I’d say pass.” 

“Hey, Coups has seniority,” Soonyoung pats Jihoon thoughtfully on the back with one hand, and grilling meat with the other. Barbeque always lifted up Jihoon’s spirits. “Why don’t you give it a chance and meet her for real? And then he can give me your super cute civilian and then he can give my shitty civilian to some newbie.” 

“And if it doesn’t work out, I just lose her,” Jihoon’s eyes are watering, most likely from the excess smoke around their grill, but it does align with his current state of sadness. It was the right thing to do, he thinks over and over as he replays that phonecall from last night. “Hoshi, if you were in my situation, would you have done the same?” 

“Like I said–” Soonyoung—codename Hoshi, waves his tongs around like a magic wand, “your civilian is super cute, so I would be making a beeline to her house and—” 

“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” you’re his civilian, not Soonyoung’s. 

“Cheer up, c’mon,” Soonyoung’s filling his bowl with all sorts of delicious things, charred vegetables, mixed rice, and pork belly. Jihoon’s favorite is pork belly, so eventually he relents with a timid smile, taking out his chopsticks to appease his friend, “there it is, Uji. Food always makes things better—” 

“Uji?” 

Both off-duty agents freeze, hearing the familiar ting of your voice as it glares holes into Jihoon’s back. It’s you. Since they’re off the clock, he would have no idea you’d be here. Usually that’s fine, it’s early morning and it’s pretty unlikely that you’d run into your civilian considering you’re supposed to know every second of their schedule. It seems that tonight you’ve varied from the norm. 

“Uh, hey?” 

His back is still facing you, and he’s side eying Soonyoung in a panic. He’s wearing a cap and a nondescript hoodie, feeling like a shlub as your familiar voice pings back at him with excitement. 

“I knew I recognized your voice!” you’re unfazed, definitely not realizing the distress the two men are currently going through. “What a small world, I didn’t think we’d ever actually run into each other!” 

“Talk to her, you ass!” Soonyoung hisses, and immediately swivels his chair so he has no choice but to face you.

You’re so, so pretty. Prettier in person, prettier than any crappy 480p screen can give him. You’re definitely not dressed for barbeque, in fact you look like you’re just passing by to pick up a to-go order after a night out. You’re dressed in a silky looking velvet off-the-shoulder top, the cherry red color practically melting onto your skin. The black skirt paired with it has Jihoon salivating for more than just barbeque, and he has no idea how to look away. 

The smile is wiped clean off your face however, and you recognize him almost immediately. “Jihoon?” 

This should be a moment of joy for him, after all it’s far too late to go back at this point. You look a little hurt, your face twisted in confusion as you put two and two together. 

Soonyoung excuses himself to go to the bathroom, although neither party seems to care. The lame, over-distended EDM music that plays over the cacophony of the barbeque place seems to melt in the atmosphere, much like how the smoke hits the fan, and it’s just you two in the room. Jihoon gestures a pale hand to Soonyoung’s seat, and you take a beat to reluctantly sit yourself down. 

You clutch your skirt with both hands, thumbs ringing against the pleats and ironing them out. “So, you’re also Jihoon?” your voice is tiny, small and sad. Jihoon feels liquid guilt inject in his veins, and he wishes he could reach out and pat your shoulder, hold your hand, something. However no matter how much he knows you, he’s a stranger to you. “Why did you lie to me?” 

“It’s… complicated,” you shake your head at his pathetic reply, and Jihoon hates this. He feels like he’s drowning in smoke and mirrors and the cloying scent of pork belly is now sticking to all his senses, immobilizing him. 

With a cross of your arms, you scoff, “It’s always complicated.” 

“Please don’t think I said those things the other night because I don’t want to date you,” Jihoon tumbles the words out like a hamster wheel, wanting to speed up to your pace as fast as he can, “I want to, I really do, but it’s—”

“Complicated.” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you sit in silence, letting the noise back into your little bubble. Jihoon feels his stare on you, akin to how a teacher looks over your shoulder during an exam. He robotically eats rice, grain after grain as he lets you have your look. 

The slope of his nose, the cotton smooth skin, the lean yet strong stature. You can’t believe he matches the Light a Flame profile perfectly. Other than the frumpy clothes, he matches the man on your phone, a simple picture in a black suit that reminds you strangely of the movie Kingsman. You mentally roll through what you remember from his profile, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his occupation—

“Wait,” you pause, your brows knitting together, “so the FBI thing on your profile… is not a joke?” 

Jihoon forgets to chew his last bite, and he swallows a whole two centimeters of meat down his throat. Ouch. 

“It’s—” 

“Complicated.” 

The adjective has a whole new meaning now. It’s crazy how in so little words, so much is exchanged between you two. You might not be realizing it, but Jihoon’s so attuned to you he feels like the pick to your guitar, strumming and humming along your chords like it’s second nature. It really isn’t fair, but anticipating your reactions helps greatly. 

“There’s things you’re not telling me.” 

“Right.” 

“And things you can’t tell me,” you add. 

“Yes.” 

“Then what are some things you can tell me?” 

“I’d… rather not here,” Jihoon’s eyes dart around the room, looking for all the pinholes and micro cams attached to the restaurant. By the bonsai, under the table, in the koi tank, “I need to work out some paperwork before anything.” 

“Paperwork?” 

Jihoon nods mutely, but he looks at you with a litany of emotions in his eyes you’re reeling back in your stool. Why do you feel like this man knows you from a simple five-minute interaction? And why do you feel like you can trust this man with your life? 

“Okay,” you finally say. 

“Really? Okay?” you think he’s cute, the way his eyes perk up and his back straightens. 

“Really.” 

Silence fills the space once more. This time however, it feels more at ease. 

“The only reason why I’m saying yes,” you pretend to nonchalantly play with your fingertips, a manicure reserved for a date you’ve long abandoned for this evening in favor of a new flame, “is because I think FBI agents are kinda hot.” 

A flush blooms on Jihoon’s cheeks, and you can’t help but giggle. 

[shihalyfie]

I’m a diehard 02 fan who does not want a reboot and never wanted a reboot, and here’s why

This is one of my few editorial-esque pieces, but this is something some friends and I have been discussing for a while, and given what’s going on right now, I feel like this needs to be said at some point.

Sometimes I feel like there’s a really massive gap between what 02 fans want (especially diehard ones) and what people think 02 fans want. I'm not saying that media should only be catering to hardcore fans, and if more casual fans of 02 or people who simply just happen to have a stake in the full franchise have their own opinions on what they wanted to see out of 02-related media, that’s perfectly fine, and they have a right to have those expectations. What I’m mainly writing this about is sentiments that talk about how Toei is apparently doing 02 a disservice or sweeping it under the bus by not rebooting it (which basically comes with an implication that giving it respect would mandate it being rebooted just because Adventure was), or talking about how doing a reboot would please 02 fans just by giving their favorite characters more rep. (Although, I suppose the simultaneous reveal of an actual 02-related movie kind of killed any grounds for claiming that the lack of a 02 reboot meant sidelining 02. You can’t really claim that they’re sidelining 02 when they’re making a whole movie, after all...)

Of course, I don’t claim to speak for every single 02 fan out there (so if you’re a 02 fan who doesn’t agree with anything I’m about to say, I apologize and hope I don’t sound presumptuous), and I highly doubt I represent the mainstream, but I felt I should input my perspective as a 02 fan who’s friends with a handful of other 02 fans, who have discussed this extensively and all have the same feelings on the topic, and why it’s kind of frustrating to keep hearing this kind of thing from people who assume that all fans of something should want to see more things that resemble them by default without any more nuance to it.

It won’t actually improve much that’s worth it

I’m going to be blunt about it: I think more people who supposedly want this 02 reboot are people who hate or dislike 02 than people who actually are fans of the series, because they’re doing this under the sentiment that “this was a bad series, so a redo would improve it.” You can especially tell because a lot of people acting like a reboot is in 02′s best interest are the same people being scathingly critical of the current Adventure: reboot right now, so you can see that this kind of mentality comes from people who clearly understand that a reboot won’t necessarily be something everyone likes all that much, and thus believe 02 is so unsalvageably bad that you couldn’t possibly make it worse. So you can probably understand why I’m not exactly patient with this kind of take.

If we are to be charitable, though -- if this sentiment comes out of a genuine feeling that 02 had missed potential that could be addressed by the reboot -- I want to ask everyone if they really believe that this theoretical reboot would be a net improvement, especially one that’s worth all the time and effort involved, and even more especially given the writing style that the current Adventure: reboot is employing. You don’t have to claim it’s a perfect series or anything to understand the sentiment that it held up enough by itself to not necessitate a whole anime series being made to do another take on it.

Something I would like to remind people who love to claim that 02 is such a despised series is that it made around 89% of Adventure’s revenue at the time it aired, and despite those who despise 02 being very vocal on the Internet, the actual mainstream tends to be very positive about it, especially in terms of anything to do with Ken (whom most reasonable people will agree had a character arc that deserves acclaim). So in other words, if you want to do a reboot, most likely you would want to do it without offending the base that likes the series already, right? (Especially since, you know, recent events have proven that upsetting the real-life 02 fanbase is actually a pretty inadvisable idea...)

Here’s the thing: Once you filter out most of the “scapegoat” reasons people tend to criticize 02, the one that’s generally the most agreed upon is how disorganized the plot gets in the second half. So this so-called ideal situation reboot would supposedly iron out all of the messy plot writing and make use of the “wasted potential” the series had -- but 02 was way more than just a narrative storyline with characters walking around in it, and when it comes to the reasons people were so drawn to it, they’re tied to the series themes about regrets and making up for the past, and about the unreasonable pressures that society places on children. That, and also the most important one, the central theme of human relationships, and the charismatic and well-developed (yes, really) characters. The so-called “messier” second half of 02 was full of payoff for a lot of what was set up in the first half in regards to its themes, and a lot of its subplots or character flairs are packed in really small nuances that are easy to miss on the first watch.

What this means is that 02 is a series that works off of a lot of delicate balances. Adventure could be “rebooted” because everything was very clear-cut and straightforward, which meant that you could change almost everything about the plot and still relatively adhere to the primary points of “kids gain self-awareness through a journey in another world”. (Like, I really hate to break it to those who put Adventure on a pedestal, but this is mainly possible because Adventure doesn’t really have much of a plot besides “defeat enemy” followed by “defeat bigger enemy”...) In the case of 02, everything regarding the story is, for better or for worse, much more deeply tied to the plot, the narrative behind the Kaiser and the traces of psychological horror laced into everything, and the second-half evolution mechanic, Jogress, has a lot to do with the developments related to the human relationships narrative. Moreover, a lot of the reasons that people call it “bad” for are deeply tied to the exact same reasons a lot of people like it -- that its takes on certain topics were heavily nuanced and unconventional, meaning it could cover ground that most media wouldn’t go anywhere near -- and so the series loses too much of its identity if those aspects are removed, even if it ostensibly seems like “streamlining” it.

So if you mess with one thing, a lot of it falls apart -- and in fact, considering the writing style that the Adventure: reboot is using right now, it’s hard to imagine that applying it to 02 would make it any better. Actually, it seems like it wouldn’t address any of the grievances anyone has with it to any substantial degree, and it’d be more likely to axe all of the stuff that were integral to 02′s identity, like the social commentary, or the heavy focus on human relationships, or the unusual sort of character nuance it employed, and...basically, we go back to the same question: is this actually worth it?

02 itself was about not having this kind of sentiment

The main reason most 02 fans get upset about the 02 characters not being included in Adventure canon-related things that should rightfully include them is that, quite simply, they’re part of the canon! In fact, most 02 fans like Adventure too, so they like the way 02 built on Adventure’s worldbuilding, and moreover they’re attached to the web of relationships between the Adventure and 02 groups -- 02′s additions to Adventure’s worldbuilding and the nature of what it established around the neighborhoods of Odaiba and Tamachi were not only added on but also deeply entangled with what was established before, so you can’t just act like none of it exists!

So this also means that once we’re talking about a completely different universe, absolutely none of this applies and there’s no expectations to adhere to any of this. The 02 quartet doesn’t exist in this universe? Cool.

Funny thing about 02: one of the biggest themes the story revolved around was “not getting caught up in the past, and moving forward with what you have instead,” so it’s probably pretty understandable that a lot of people who like 02 would be the type who wouldn’t be fond of rehashing stuff too much (and even more so it involves 02 itself), especially since being okay with 02 as a sequel likely means being okay with change in general. To make something really new out of it, you might as well...actually make something new out of it, or cover some truly new territory, instead of bothering with this whole reboot business, you know?

One thing you might notice about a lot of 02 fans is that they’re not actually all that fond of the idea of canon putting the group through more massive suffering or emotional ordeals after 02 compared to most. I mean, I think it’s pretty normal to enjoy your favorite characters going through emotional trouble, but the aversion to it often tends to be much stronger than usual, regardless of what country’s fanbase we’re talking, and even the official staff for Kizuna seems to have somewhat recognized that the 02 group is most in its element when in the context of fun and silliness. All things considered, this probably isn’t particularly surprising when you take into account the fact that “just being able to hang out with each other as casual friends at all” was considered such a blessing, and such a difficult goal to reach, that there’s a natural aversion to seeing them go through more emotional suffering again. The new trailer for the upcoming movie seems to have Daisuke in a relatively good mood (and even then, “please don’t make it too emotionally vicious for them” is a pretty common plea).

So if you want to talk about rehashing all of their old problems, seeing it all over again is just not very fun. It’s like holding Ken’s sins over his head again, even if it’s in a different universe; it just doesn’t feel right when the series itself endorsed the best possible outcome for these kids to be “to live happily and at peace with themselves, no matter what happened beforehand”. They worked so hard to get out of it, so to decide we have to do this entire rodeo again for the sake of doing it again, instead of trying something new is...well, it’s not that appealing of an idea, I have to say.

The real-life impact would be intolerable

It’s no secret that the 02 hatedom is a bit uncomfortably vocal about it, but what tends to be really frustrating about it is how many of them love to dunk on the series based on misremembering it. It’s fair that, if you don’t like a series, you probably wouldn’t want to watch it again, but as someone who’s spent a lot of years unpacking all the little details in the series and noticing that it’s much deeper than it initially seems on the surface, it’s honestly annoying to see “criticism” of the series that’s actually just dunking on it based on details that are genuinely factually incorrect (it’d be one thing if it were a question of subjectivity, but no, so many of the insults 02 often gets are based on things that legitimately did not happen in the series).

In the end, I admit that 02′s penchant for ridiculous subtlety probably worked against it a bit too much, and I’ve already covered its impact on how the series gets misread a lot. Thing is, this kind of subtlety was a thing in Adventure too, and it all leads to the unfortunate effect that a lot of people tend to forget what actually happened in Adventure if they haven’t seen it for more than a few years. With the current reboot right now, you’ll see people saying that certain characters are the same as they were in the original series, even though in most respects they’re actually the opposite -- because a lot of said people only remember them by the surface characteristics that seem to be similar.

So when you look at 02, and consider the fact that even official media -- including the official American English dub and V-Tamer -- has been a bit too prone to not handling Daisuke’s character tastefully and reducing him to traits that make him easy to dislike, you might realize that handling these characters improperly runs an extremely high risk of actually turning them into the flat, unlikeable characters that people tend to accuse them of being -- imagine Daisuke where his entire character is about fixating over Hikari and being impulsive, or Miyako being nothing but self-centered and selfish, or Iori being genuinely stoic and missing the nuances of constantly holding his emotions back. And making it worse is that this would basically solidify these negative perceptions of the characters even further -- because people, especially those inclined to hate the series, would take it as further evidence that the characters have always been like this, reflect it back on the original, and everything would really just become a miserable experience. (Those who are particularly inclined to be malicious against 02 would probably even claim a reboot to be “better than the original” no matter whatever it is, because of the belief that 02 is so incredibly terrible that literally anything would be better than it.)

It’s not my business to dictate other people’s opinions, but it’s already been a frustrating twenty years of dealing with this kind of thing, so of course I’m not going to be enthusiastic about the idea of putting up with more of it...

[myelocin]

The Gratitude in Endings | Miya Atsumu, You, Kuroo Tetsurou

Synopsis: What follows endings always were the most beautiful things. In this case, after Kuroo Tetsurou, came Miya Atsumu--and for you, nothing could truly be better. 

**This is the epilogue to Redefining You (Part 1) and  To Us, A Love Story Unwritten (Part 2)! 

Characters: Miya Atsumu, You Kuroo Tetsurou

Genre/Tags/Warnings: No warnings! Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Bestfriend!Kuroo, Reader/Atsumu, Kinda a love triangle i guess lol

WC: 2.8k+

a/n: i,,,, have not let go of this AU and will probably not let go until a long time. i’m planning on writing drabbles in this certain AU soon, but for now enjoy this epilogue!

-

You suppose happy endings is the sort of cliché you’ve been wanting to avoid this whole time. After all, you’re still only in your late twenties and even if you’ve crossed some things off of your bucket list—there were still pages you’ve yet to even flip through.

Life, to you, is a constant work in progress; all you’ve known were only beginnings but the reality is there is still never an end. From the second you opened your eyes and sucked in your first breath of air, day by day you continue to leave a mark in the world.

The stories you’ve scribbled in paper, the secrets you’ve whispered to willing ears, photographs of your claim in that snapshot of the world, and the connections you’ve made—those are the things that last and remain even after you’ve gone to cross new horizons.

Life—much like yourself will always just be a work in progress.

Whether it be the ink on your skin that’s yet to be connected to another work of art or waking up to a new morning wondering how differently Atsumu’s hair will look curled around your fingers this time.

Every day that you spent watching the sun rising and setting in his eyes never failed to leave you breathless.

-

It shouldn’t have surprised you when Atsumu adjusted himself with the beat of your life quite naturally. After reconnecting in the airport, Tetsurou didn’t even have to sit you down to talk to you about his reappearance in your life.

Literally, after Bokuto landed, he left the airport that day without you and texted you that this was your chance to go home with, as Tetsurou said in verbatim, your “long lost love.”

According to him, after showing up in your weekly dinners at Kenma with Atsumu trailing behind you—that it was all part of his plan for he was the best wing man you could ever ask for.

After that self-proclamation, you and Kenma responded to his statement by simultaneously rolling your eyes. Atsumu, beside you, was apparently polite enough to laugh. Tetsurou was quick to stride over to him, clap him on the back of the shoulder and declare, “You both suck, but at least Miya-san has enough taste to recognize my genius work.”

“Please,” Atsumu laughed and clapped Tetsurou on the shoulder, “Atsumu is just fine.” From your place in the table, you smiled at Atsumu beaming up at Tetsurou, with your best friend returning the same energy.

“I think they’ll get along.” Kenma says and you smile, feeling your heart swell.

“They will,” you reply, and in return Kenma smiles because the both of you truly believe your words.

-

There were still moments you see Tetsurou break down. Eventually the ink climbs up higher and higher on his shoulders until you eventually see it peeking above the collar of his shirts. You have half the mind to ask, but at the same time, when Atsumu drapes his hands over your shoulders and you spot Tetsurou look away and bark out another joke—you decide against it.

“Are you happy?” Tetsurou asked you one day and you could almost laugh at how ironic the setting was. The two of you, along with Kenma had gone with Atsumu and the rest of MSBY in their team trip to a lake house ways from the city.

He asked that question when you joined him on the balcony one morning, a mug of coffee outstretched in offering to him. If it wasn’t for the morning fog clouding your hazy thoughts, you figured you would have caught on a lot quicker than you did—but at the moment, all you could think about was how warm Atsumu’s jacket was wrapped around you and how the roots of his natural hair were starting to peek through from what you observed earlier that morning.

Tetsurou smiled a thank you at the mug of coffee you offered him and motioned for you to take a seat next to him. He doesn’t ask the question again, but you spend the next few minutes of silence mulling about how the morning air brought bouts of nostalgia.

“I’m really happy, Tetsu.” You say and look at him, and you suddenly feel a little choked up. You blame the cold air for the blur in your eyes because when he smiles and wraps the blanket around him tighter while taking slow sips of his coffee you suddenly remember the moment you fell in love with him all those years ago.

In the solitude of the early hours, you’re brought back to the world from more than ten years ago and see the boy who spent his mornings with you through the pixilation of a computer screen. Your heart still beats with a fondness only attributed for him, but you suppose even the rhythm doesn’t flow the same way—you still love him.

And when he opens his eyes, red and teary and cheeks flushed, the fondness in his voice is as familiar as it had always been, “I’m glad, (y/n).”

You sniffle because even if you only exchanged the minimal words, you know the both of you understood everything lingering in the unspoken.

“Are you happy though?” you ask and knock your shoulder against his.

“I am, for you, I always am happy.” He says and laughs when you smack his shoulder a little harder this time in retort. “I meant you, dumbass. Are you happy?”

He laughs, sniffling and turning away from you.

“I love you.” He says, and before you could voice out your confusion he turns to you with a teasing glint in his eyes, “I began to tell myself that every day.”

You roll your eyes remembering your words from the balcony that one night. “Oh god, don’t just quote me.”

“I mean it!” he says and laughs along with you.

You think the two of you must look a little silly, crying at seven in the morning and laughing over your heartaches you endured some years ago, but your relationship with Tetsurou ran deeper than the norm, so you guess you don’t mind.

“Tetsu, I really want you to be happy.” You finally say, and you hope the softness in your tone reaches him.

Tetsurou looks at you in the way that’s sincere because he sighs into the air with a smile and wraps a hand around your shoulder—pulling you in for a half hug. You set your mug down to the side and wrap your own arms around his frame, burying your face in his chest.

He feels warm and you don’t come to mind his chin resting on top of your head.

“Happiness is a work in progress, I’ll get there in time. But I’m always facing to walk in that direction.”

“Promise?” you ask, and he pulls from you to look you straight in the eye.

Though before he opened his mouth to reply, the finality in his eyes quelled your worries.

He didn’t need to say promise because you were more than sure he was going to get there.

-

Miya Atsumu was someone who came into your life in a whirlwind of all the things you considered to be the most beautiful.

He’s a human being; far from perfection just as you were, but then again, the word perfection had always been subjective. Not a day passed by where you didn’t tell him thank you for always being patient. He dealt with his demons just as you had but like the certainty of those very demons coming and going in your life, the grip in his hand holding yours was just as steadfast and un moving.

Atsumu would be the one to tell you to bite your hand and push through it when you had no other option but walk through hell itself, but also in contrast, he would be the one to lay with you in the silence and rub circles on your back telling you to cry out whatever was hurting you.

He’d crack a couple jokes in between your sobs, and kiss your eyelids despite you telling him no and that your tears will taste gross.

You, on the other hand was always the one he came home to and your arms being opened was a constant whether he celebrated a victory or a loss.

Whether he’d cry because his service ace was the winning point, or cry because he felt second best, time and time again Atsumu would tell you his thank you for the presence through it all.

And when he tells you an I love you every day with the sun rising and setting as the witness, you know he means it just as he knows the sincerity he’s always found the comfort in with yours.

“Are you happy?” he asked you on your third year together and you could almost laugh at the parallels you’re begging to see with the conversation you had with Tetsurou some time ago.

“Really happy.” You reply and lace your fingers through his.

“With me?” he asks and smiles when you swing your joined hands back and forth. “With us.” You reply and lean forward to kiss his cheek.

Atsumu laughs and tugs you to walk with him ankle deep in the water. “This kinda feels familiar,” he comments and you laugh because it does. You mean it’s familiar because déjà vu is nudging at you and also because the both of you had found yourselves in a quiet stretch of beach along the coasts of Okinawa.

It wasn’t Siargao in the Philippines this time, and you could understand the distant chatter of Japanese in the background opposed to the dialect spoken in the Philippines those years ago, but it was the light of the setting sun peaking in Atsumu’s eyes that had you grinning ear to ear because this was your favorite part of the day.

When the both of you are a little over ankle deep in the water Atsumu releases your hand and points to the horizon on the western side of the world.

You turn and smile because he’s pointing to the sunset. Closing your eyes you, breathe in and breathe out—then smile because it wasn’t shaky. Briefly, you think of Tetsurou and what he could be doing this time in Tokyo—and smile again because he’s probably over at Kenma’s for movie night yelling into a TV and chucking popcorn in the air. You think about the new dating app he downloaded on his phone that he showed you the other day and chuckle to yourself in a way that had you feeling giddy. He was putting himself back out there and for that, you were always happy for him.

And so when you open your eyes and look at the western horizon, you shift your body to turn to Atsumu; you prefer looking at the setting sun’s painting from his eyes, anyway.

But you stop in your tracks because he’s grinning at you and then biting his lip in nervousness. You laugh, automatically choked up because he’s down on one knee with a ring in his hand.

“(Y/n),” he begins, but you don’t let him finish because as you’re staring into his eyes and see the sparks of orange and red reflected you’re suddenly throwing your arms on his shoulder and kneeling down with him.

“W-wait!” he protests, but laughs along with you, “—for god’s sake let me propose properly.”

You continue to laugh, even as you feel streams of tears rolling down your cheeks. Pulling away from him you grab his face in between your hands and wipe the tears rolling down his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Will you marry me?” he asks, but you know it’s not much of a question because he doesn’t wait for you to answer since he’s kissing the palm of your hand and sliding the ring on your finger before you open your mouth to speak.

“I had a whole speech prepared,” Atsumu whines, sniffling when you laugh at him and hold his face in between your hands again.

You could cry because it truly does feel like déjà vu, because the sunset reflected in his eyes look just like that very sunset you could still remember on that day you fell in love with him all those years ago.

The water in Okinawa is not as warm as the water in the Philippines, and the water soaking your dress is a little uncomfortable like the sand digging in your knees, but with Atsumu being in front of you crying along to the comments you’re sharing back and forth with him—you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

“You know if I closed my eyes and this playlist wasn’t shitty, I could just pretend this our wedding.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a comment and let out a laugh instead. “Atsumu was in charge of the playlist. I told him to make the vibe uniform but he probably ignored everything after Atsumu make the playlist.”

Tetsurou snickers and squeezes your hand in his, while the other that’s resting on the back of your waist pulls you along to the sway of the music. You smile and lightly knock his chest with your hand that’s resting on his chest.

“Don’t tell him I’m trashing your wedding music.”

“He’ll laugh along with you,” you reply softly.

“Oi, Tetsurou!” Atsumu calls from the background; the two of you turn to face him, you greeting him with a slight wave and a wink while Tetsurou opts to shoot him a thumbs up and a smile.

“Stop tryin’ to steal my wife.”

Tetsurou laughs at your husband’s halfhearted warning, “She’s not really my type!”

“Damn straight.” Atsumu laughs, then turns towards the conversation he was having with Osamu.

“Why did it feel like my husband is trying to devalue me?” You snort and Tetsurou laughs because he knows you’re only joking.

“He trusts you and knows he can’t get rid of me that’s why.”

“Fair point,” you smile, agreeing.

“Hey Tetsu,” you say slowly, looking at him. He hums in response and looks at you with a smile mirroring your own.

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t ask you what you mean by the thank you and you smile in appreciation because you know the message was delivered without a hitch. So the two of you continue to dance in circles, with Tetsurou snorting every time the music in Atsumu’s playlist got progressively more “country” as he dubbed it.

“We should write a book about this someday.” You quip and he nods, “Hell yeah, as long as I’m written as a super buff guy.”

Thank you for being my first love.

“I mean sure,” you reply, “but when Atsumu comes into the story he’s obviously more buff. It’s just canon like that.” Tetsurou huffs, turning his head away in exaggeration.

Thank you for breaking my heart but still leaving breakfast for me that morning.

“My character needs to have some really cool quotes though,” Tetsurou negotiates and you laugh out a sure, what do you got, before he replies, “If your goals don’t scare you, they’re not big enough.” You throw your head back and laugh. “That doesn’t even make sense, but sure, we can work that in.”

Thank you for being my best friend above everything that’s happened. Thank you for accepting Atsumu.

“Wait I have another quote,” he offers and you nod for him to continue. Tetsurou smiles at you, his eyes dazzling under the night sky’s stars and the venue’s fairy lights. “He loved her enough to let her go.”

You fall silent and the urge to suddenly cry hits you. Tetsurou smiles and spins you around until you’re face to face with Atsumu, who’s staring at you with a knowing and gentle smile from across the room.

You turn to face him and the tears well up even more at the feeling of déjà vu gnawing at your chest. It doesn’t hurt in a bad way because you know the both of you are heading in the right direction this time. Tetsurou smiles and tells you, “Love you, dumbass.” before you feel Atsumu’s hand take yours.

“I’m proud of the both of you.” Atsumu whispers, kissing the corner of your temple.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the protective husband?” you laugh.

“I know he’s a special person in your life, and I’m thankful for him everyday too because him being dumb enough not to love you led to us.” Atsumu replies, laughing along with you.

“Tsumu!”

“Kiddin.”

Resting your cheek on Atsumu’s shoulder, the two of you continue to move in slower circles. You meet Tetsurou’s gaze from your spot in the room and smile when he flashes you a thumbs up.

Thank you, Tetsurou thinks when he feels déjà vu nudging his heart. The dull of his heart thrumming doesn’t ache this time so he smiles towards you again and thinks of the baby’s breath tattoo he got the night inked on the left side of his chest.

When you turn and Atsumu meets his gaze, he gives the blonde a solid nod and another thumbs up.

Thank you for letting me love and let you go, (y/n).

 -

[ukulelecal]

Bloom - Part One

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: angst!!!! implied smut. perhaps a swear or two. mostly angst

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: can yall believe that this video sent me so feral that i wrote this whole lil mini series in like five days?? i'm not surprised tbh. ANYWAY omg i really am excited for y'all to read this!!! i hope you love it!!! i would love your feedback, and please please remember that reblogs mean the absolute world to creators!

series masterlist

masterlist // posted on ao3

Devon would never forget the first poem Luke wrote for her.

He was a blushing mess as he handed her the folded piece of paper, insisting she read it later because he didn’t want to see her reaction. He had a lip ring then, blond hair spiked up and a wardrobe full of band t-shirts and black skinny jeans. He certainly didn’t look like how anyone would imagine a poet, but one look at his work would tell anyone that he had the mind for the craft.

Luke’s way with words was unmatched. Devon always called it a superpower; the way he was able to capture readers with words strung together so beautifully and paint a picture in the brain. He made people feel something. He had a gift, no doubt.

All of his poems were breathtaking, and he wrote many for her. The first would always be her favorite.

It was called The Orchids. The poem compared a woman to a field of orchids, delicate and lush. It was simple but sweet. Devon vividly remembered the rush of giddiness she felt as she read it, knowing it was written just for her. She remembered calling Luke after reading it over and over again, gushing about how much she loved it. He explained to her later that he chose orchids because the color of the shirt she was wearing the day they met reminded him of them.

They were only freshmen in college then. First time away from home, getting their first taste of real independence. Of adulthood. They met in a seminar class that every first year student had to take. One that everyone else hated but Luke and Devon loved, just because they got to see each other. A couple of coffee dates lead to The Orchids, which lead to a loving relationship and many, many more poems.

College was just about to come to an end now. Graduation was coming up fast, and that brought the simultaneously exciting and dreadful question: what next?

The future was something that used to delight Luke and Devon. Countless nights, they talked about marriage, a house, a dog, children. Luke would be a renowned poet, Devon a respected social worker. They had it all planned out. Even if their white picket fence dreams fell through, they would be happy so long as they had each other.

With graduation creeping closer and closer, Devon wasn’t so sure about their plans.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want it anymore. She still loved Luke with all of her heart. She wanted everything they had talked about, a future with him. Some deeper thinking into her career led her heart elsewhere.

It came out at dinner one evening, sat at the table of Devon and Luke’s shared apartment that they had moved into junior year.

“I’ve been thinking about going to grad school,” she blurted out. She twisted her spaghetti on her fork to distract herself. His face lit up, but Devon didn’t quite share his excitement. She knew this was something she wanted, but she was about to make a huge sacrifice that she had been trying to convince herself that she was ready for.

“Yeah? That’s great, Dev!” Luke cheered. “Here?”

The proud smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw the look of dread on hers. Graduate school was certainly a good thing, but if she wasn’t thrilled, Luke knew there must be a catch.

“Not here?” Devon shook her head. “Then where?”

The name of the school that she mumbled under her breath made Luke’s heart sink. It was far away. Very far.

“Oh.”

Luke wanted to kick himself for being disappointed. It was selfish, so selfish. He should have been proud that Devon wanted to further her education, and he was. He couldn’t fathom trying to take that away from her, but the thought of his girl being so far away was gut wrenching.

He wiped the frown off his face as quickly as it came. He reminded himself that he needed to be supportive, even if it hurt.

“That’s awesome, baby. I’m really proud of you.”

Devon knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was proud of her, but she could tell he wasn’t as excited as he was trying to seem.

“You don’t have to act happy about this, Lu,” she murmured, still pushing her pasta around. “I know what you’re thinking.”

He sighed and dropped his fork on his plate. Of course she saw through him. She always did. After four years of being together, Devon knew Luke better than anyone.

“I really am proud of you for doing this, honey. Don’t think that I’m not. It’s just…” he trailed off, unable to think of a way to put what he wanted to say without sounding selfish. “It’s so far away.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was headstrong, and she knew that she needed to put her career and her own desires first. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to move so far away from the love of her life.

“I know, bubs,” she whispered. “But this is something I really want for myself. For my future.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Luke sighed, not wanting her to feel bad. “I want you to do this. But the distance...I know it’s selfish of me-”

“It’s not selfish, Luke,” she interrupted, shaking her head softly. “It’s not easy for me either. But this school has the best graduate program for social work. Besides, I haven’t finished my application yet and I’m applying to some other places too. I might not even get in.”

Perhaps the most selfish thing of all was that a tiny part of him hoped she wouldn’t get in. It would break her heart if she didn’t, but maybe she wouldn’t be so far. Luke hated himself for the thought even crossing his mind for a split second.

Devon could see how this was affecting him. She understood; she knew he was planning on proposing shortly after graduation, though they were in no hurry to actually get married until they both had secure jobs. Moving hundreds of miles away for two years undoubtedly threw a wrench in the plans.

She had gone back and forth for a while as she searched for grad schools. As much as she wanted to stay close, her future career was something that she valued greatly. Devon was a first generation college student, and she wanted nothing more than to make her family proud. However, Luke was important too. The distance wouldn’t be easy, but she tried to be optimistic. She could only hope that he would want to try too.

“Don’t think like that, Dev,” Luke mumbled. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. His desire for Devon to succeed and his desire to keep her close were battling each other, and it only frustrated him.

He thought about his words for a few moments, but couldn’t find the right thing to say.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Devon gave a silent nod. She needed to let him feel this out, and honestly, she needed to do the same. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually telling Luke was another. She had been stressing over it for a while, and now that it was finally out, her and Luke had to actually deal with it together.

The couple finished their dinner in silence, the only sounds to be heard being the slight scraping of forks against plates and the occasional sighs.

Devon couldn’t help but feel guilty. Over the years, she had conditioned herself to put her own aspirations first. She had sacrificed a lot for others in her lifetime, but many people had made sacrifices for her as well. She felt she had found a balance between taking care of herself and taking care of the people around her. She knew that moving away for a while for her own benefit would have an effect on her relationship, but she didn’t feel as if she had to choose one or the other. If Luke was willing to try to make things work, then so was she.

Luke took his last bite of spaghetti and stood up from the table. He silently made his way to the sink to wash his plate before turning back to Devon.

“I’m going to write for a bit, okay?” He mumbled, slowly making his way towards the spare bedroom that doubled as his workspace. No doubt a poem was going to come out of everything he was feeling at the moment. Devon nodded and her brown eyes watched as Luke turned on his heel to walk away.

“Luke?” She called out before he got too far. He turned around with a hum of acknowledgement. “I love you.”

Despite the anxiety and dread he was feeling, he smiled.

He walked back over to where Devon still sat at the table. With her face cradled lovingly in his hands, he bent down to press a soft yet meaningful kiss to her lips. The kiss said that even if things were uncertain, this wasn’t over.

“I love you too.”

…

Devon’s breath caught in her throat when an email from her top choice grad school came through.

She had poured over her personal statement and fretted over her interview. No matter how much everyone assured her, she couldn’t help the anxiety that ate her away.

With a deep breath, she opened the email.

Accepted with a scholarship.

“Luke! Bubs, I got in! I got in!”

She ran into the spare bedroom where Luke was hunched over one of his many poetry notebooks. His head whipped up at his girlfriend’s yells, his brain taking a moment to process her words after being in the writing zone.

For a moment, neither of them were thinking about the distance. All that mattered was Devon’s amazing achievement.

Luke stood up to meet her. Devon practically tackled him in a hug and he easily held her close.

“Congratulations, honey,” he mumbled into her hair. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”

He held her for a few minutes, neither of them able to wipe the smiles off their faces. This meant a lot to Devon, and Luke knew it. He knew from the moment he met her that she was going to do great things in life. She was motivated, intelligent, passionate. Anyone could see it. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Luke pulled away in favor of cupping her cheeks in his hands. Devon flushed under his adoring gaze, eyes falling downwards.

“You’re incredible, Devon Murphy.”

She kissed him as a form of thanks, melting into each other’s touch. Their eyes met when they pulled away, bright blue and warm brown. Devon wasn’t the wordsmith that Luke was, but she didn’t have to be. Her eyes and her actions told him and everyone else everything that they needed to know. Devon was in love with him, and Luke, her.

Even with Luke’s way with words, Devon could read his eyes too. They were just as expressive as his poetry. As they gazed at each other, she could see the flash of sorrow as his mind travelled elsewhere. She didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking about.

“Luke…” she whispered with a softened gaze. The guilt was returning, although she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about. She had always struggled with her determination to put herself first. It wasn’t Luke’s fault either, however; his feelings about her leaving were completely valid.

“No. None of that right now,” he stated, shaking his head. “This is a huge accomplishment, Dev. We’re not going to be sad tonight.”

A grin tugged at the corner of Devon’s lips as Luke pulled away, grabbing his phone from the desk and sticking it in his pocket. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to the door of the bedroom.

“I think you deserve a celebratory dinner, honey, yeah?” He offered, handing trailing to the side to hold her waist. She chuckled and leaned into him.

“You could throw in a frozen pizza and I’d be happy, bubs.”

“Hell no,” he scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion in the world. “You just got into grad school! I’m taking you out for dinner. If you want pizza, we can get pizza, but not a frozen one.”

Devon couldn’t help but throw her arms around him again, burying her face into his chest. He tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She knew this wasn’t easy, and she was beyond grateful that he was being supportive.

“Thank you, bubs. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. So are we getting pizza, or do you want to go somewhere else? It’s up to you.”

“Pizza sounds good. Can we go to the place with the good garlic knots?”

Luke laughed as he slipped on his shoes.

“Of course we can.”

Devon slipped on her own shoes and grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the door before the couple made their way downstairs. Luke’s beat up Prius came into view as they stepped into the parking lot. Devon had named the car Bertha; she was old and a little rusty, but she got the job done.

Luke drove to the small pizzeria not far from their apartment complex. Once inside, they were seated quickly and ordered garlic knots and a pizza to share.

“We haven’t talked much about your writing lately,” Devon said once the waitress walked away. “What have you been working on?”

Luke shrugged and sipped his water.

“Not much. I haven’t really gotten anything good out.”

Truthfully, he had written a lot of poems about Devon leaving. He wasn’t going to tell her that at their celebratory dinner, though.

“In a slump?” She queried sincerely.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Maybe next weekend we can go out, go to the park. You always get inspired there.”

Luke grinned and reached across the table for her hand.

“I’d love that, Dev.”

The rest of dinner flew by, conversation getting lost in buttery garlic knots and savory pizza. Luke offered dessert, but Devon was too full to even think about it. A sly joke about having her for dessert at home had the giggling couple paying the check and driving home at record speed where Luke certainly made good on his promise.

Devon and Luke laid in bed that night where whispered I love you’s and gentle kisses put them to sleep. Not a negative thought in either of their minds. They were content, but the future still loomed menacingly ahead.

…

The apartment was once a place of solace. It was a place where Luke and Devon could get away from the stress of college life and simply be together. It was safe and comforting. A place they knew they were always welcome.

As time went on, the apartment slowly shifted from a place of joy to a place of dread.

Graduation day was coming up, and both Devon and Luke knew what that meant.

They busied themselves with assignments and exams, Devon simultaneously preparing herself for grad school. She didn’t say much about it to Luke; whenever it came up, the tension between them only got stronger. It led to them bickering about other things to avoid the conversation.

Before they knew it, graduation had come and passed. Devon and Luke officially had their bachelor’s degrees, Luke in creative writing and Devon in social work. The days leading up to it were a good distraction, celebrations with friends and family taking their minds off the move. But it was over. Devon needed to get to her new city soon to set up her new apartment and get her bearings before school started. It was time to face the music.

“Luke?” Devon mumbled as he came out of the spare bedroom. She had been waiting for him to finish so they could talk.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the couch, knowing exactly what this was about. They both had been dreading the conversation, but he knew just as well as her that they needed to discuss it before it was too late.

“Are you ready for this?” She whispered, glancing at him with sad eyes. He didn’t return her gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to be away from you for this long, honey.”

Luke could feel his guard coming down. He wanted this for Devon, but he was struggling to keep his want for her to stay close suppressed.

“I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you in this,” she began, reaching for his hand in his lap. “Leaving won’t be easy for me either.”

“I know.”

He was too scared to say much else.

The couple was silent for a moment. They racked their brains for something to say that would make the situation easier on either of them.

“Maybe you could come with.”

Devon regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Luke huffed and sent her a look.

“You know I can’t do that.”

She did know. If he could do that, he would have jumped on the opportunity immediately. Luke couldn’t afford to move. He was working on fulfilling his lifelong dream of releasing a poetry book. He was getting so close. Publishers were starting to take interest in him, and he nearly had enough money saved to cover the costs. It was difficult to save money when his part time job at a local bookstore didn’t pay much in the first place and he still needed to pay for school as well as his share of the rent and groceries, among other necessary things. Devon was a little luckier. Neither of their families had much to contribute, and she needed to pay for the same things as him, but her part time job paid better than his and she had money saved from when she managed to land a paid internship first semester. It was covering the costs of her move and grad school.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She watched him for another moment, trying to fight back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“Please say something, Luke,” she whimpered. All she wanted was for him to affirm what she so desperately wanted; for them to be okay.

He finally looked at her, both sets of eyes red rimmed. Devon squeezed his hand.

“Do you really have to go, Dev?”

The break in his voice sent the first tear gliding down Devon’s cheek.

“You know how much this means to me, Lu. I really think we can make this work.”

“Can we? Can we really?” Luke’s tone turned frustrated. Devon’s mouth dropped open slightly. Did he not believe they could last?

“What are you saying?” She whispered, voice shaking.

He sighed and roughly stood up, dropping Devon’s hand in the process.

“We’ll never talk. We’ll both be so busy. You’ll have school, I’ll be working. And you know neither of us have the money to be visiting each other often. There will hardly be anything,” he rambled, pacing around the living room. Maybe his selfish side was coming out, but he felt he was just being realistic.

Luke always aimed for realism, particularly in his poetry. He wrote largely about real life experiences and channeled his emotions into beautiful, flowing rhymes. His best work came from personal connection.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but write about what he wished he had.

His idealistic poems were never about Devon; his relationship with her was practically perfect. But this was something that no idealistic poem could fix. No words could change what was happening to them.

“I’ll make time for you, Luke. Won’t you do the same?” She questioned, growing frustrated as well. She had wanted him to share her optimism, but clearly he didn’t. A part of her knew he was right, but she wasn’t going to back down.

“Of course I’ll make time. But will it be enough? No matter how much we try, will it be enough to keep what we have going? Look at what it’s doing to us now! You haven’t even left yet and we can barely keep it together.”

“Do you really have that little faith in us, Luke?” Her voice was calm, despite how she felt on the inside. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one said it would be easy. But we’ve been together for four years. I believe in us.”

Luke took another breath, trying his best to keep his emotions and tears at bay.

“I want to believe in us, Devon. I really do.” He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and it only made his heart ache more. “I still want a future with you. I want the house and the dog and the kids we’ve always talked about. But I have a bad feeling. We’ve never been away from each other for more than a few weeks. I just...the distance is going to break us.”

Luke’s own words cut him like a knife. As much as he wanted to believe they could last, his own insecurities caused him doubt. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or if he just wanted to save himself the heartbreak of being away from Devon for so long.  

Devon let his words sink in. Even if it did break them before she finished her degree, she was willing to try until they couldn’t anymore. Maybe he was right. Maybe the distance would break them eventually. But it hurt her that he didn’t have any faith at all. Still, she understood where he was coming from.

There was no winner in this situation.

She thought for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that they were both thinking about.

“Fine.” She slowly stood up from the couch and looked him in the eye. They were both shattered. Hearts were breaking into a million pieces simultaneously. Devon put on the most stoic face she could muster with tears still leaking from her eyes. “We obviously want different things right now. I have school, you have your book, and clearly we can’t handle both at the same time. Maybe there shouldn’t be an us.”

Although he had essentially been the one to suggest it, her words felt like a punch in the gut.

This wasn’t what either of them wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But the truth was becoming more and more apparent. They couldn’t do this. Not now.

However, Luke mimicked Devon’s actions and put on a blank face.

“Maybe there shouldn’t.”

They stared at each other for another few moments. Reality was setting in. This was the end of Luke and Devon. All of the coffee dates, the love poems, living off Ramen and questionable dining hall food together, walks in the park, kisses, I love you’s, the late night talks of the future, everything gone down the drain.

Devon shut herself in the bedroom before Luke could see her break.

…

The next month before Devon moved was painful. Her and Luke hardly said a word to each other. They ate their meals separately, not bothering to cook together like they used to or order food to share. They both spent time with friends before everyone went off to their new adult lives. When they weren’t out, Devon locked herself in the bedroom while Luke did the same in the spare. They hadn’t slept in the same bed since before their fight.

Devon spent a lot of free time packing. She went through all of her belongings, creating piles of things to keep, things to donate, and things to throw away.

She soon came across something that made all of her emotions about the breakup resurface.

It was the shoebox that she kept all of the poems Luke had written for her in. She kept every single one.

With a quivering lip, she opened the box and gazed at its contents. Piles of folded papers were neatly tucked inside, his declarations of love all written out in one place. They were her most prized possessions. She went back and reread them often, and the feeling of having someone love her like Luke did was the best feeling in the world.

Devon choked out a sob, burying her face into her hands in hopes that he wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls. The fact that he was right next door hurt her even more. The caring, gentle boy that made her swoon with his charming smile and romantic poetry. He made her fall in love with him all over again every day. He was everything, and she lost him.

She slowly read through each poem. Instead of joy and adoration, all she felt was anguish and heartache. She never thought she would feel this way about Luke.

When she got to the bottom, she pulled out the last poem, and her heart completely broke in her chest.

The Orchids.

Devon couldn’t keep her sobs at bay. She clutched the paper to her chest, every bit of pain coming out in tears.  

Luke could hear her through the wall.

His heart told him to run in and comfort her. His brain told him it would only make things worse for both of them.

He plugged his ears, trying to block out the dreadful sound. He was in just as much pain as her, but the sound of the love of his life’s sorrow only made his own worse.

Glancing down at the open notebook in front of him, he reread the poem he was writing, and soon he found himself joining Devon in tears.

It was called Wilted. Their relationship that had once been a beautiful flower, an orchid, lost its sunlight and its water, and now it had wilted. Dead, grey, dried up.

Luke dropped his pen and folded his arms on the desk, burying his head into them. He cried.

The broken couple, only separated by a thin wall, might as well have already been miles apart. They cried together, but there was no sense of unity between them. Their pain was past what any poem could portray.