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fear-less · 3 days ago

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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she ignored my letter!

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever)

a/n: heyyy... i had sm fun writing this, can't wait to write the rest of this bc i literally LOVE anne with an e and this is inspired by it ofc!!!! anyways, im barely writing now..smh, its cause im reading manacled and its literally heart breaking... im also editing on ae and its so hard so im slowly learning😭 but i want to finish this mini series by next week!!

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

James had liked you for a while now. He wasn’t quite sure when it started—maybe it was the way you laughed at his jokes, always the loudest in the room. Or perhaps it was when he’d catch you staring at him, your gaze lingering just a bit too long, thinking he was too distracted to notice.

With the Christmas holidays fast approaching, James knew he had to make a move. He had to let you know how he felt. If you didn’t feel the same, maybe the time apart over the holiday would make it less awkward. But he couldn’t let another term slip by in silence.

Knowing your love for all things old-fashioned, James decided there was no better way to confess his feelings than through a handwritten letter. It felt personal, genuine—something you’d appreciate. But writing it turned out to be harder than he imagined.

He’d written and discarded at least a dozen drafts, each one crumpled and tossed aside in frustration. Finally, after half an hour of agonizing over the perfect words, he settled on this version. It was short, straightforward, and sincere:

Dear, (Y/N)

I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete idiot. I’ve tried a hundred times, and every single attempt has been worse than the last. So here’s the truth—I’m hopelessly in love with you.

You’ve probably guessed I’m not great at being subtle. But what I’ve never been able to say outright is how much you mean to me. The way you laugh, the way your nose scrunches when you’re concentrating—Merlin, you make it impossible to focus on anything else. I want you to know that you’ve made me braver, happier, better. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay—I just needed to get this off my chest.

Yours, James

He sighed deeply, folding the letter carefully before slipping it into an envelope. Your name was written on the front in his slightly shaky handwriting. Taking a steadying breath, he tucked it into the inside pocket of his robes. He’d leave it somewhere you’d find it tomorrow, just before you both left for the holidays.

As he lay awake that night, James tried to figure out the best way to deliver the letter. Should he hand it to you directly? No, that was too nerve-wracking—he’d probably end up babbling like an idiot. Maybe he could slip it into your bag and avoid the risk of witnessing your reaction.

The morning was crisp, the kind of cold that painted your cheeks red and sent little clouds of breath swirling in the air. On the platform, the train sat waiting, puffing out plumes of steam that mingled with the frosty air. It was alive with the sound of students saying goodbye and dragging their luggage over the cobblestones.

James walked beside you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He was doing his best to appear casual, though every step he took felt heavier with the weight of the letter in his robe.

“Let me take that for you,” he blurted suddenly, nodding toward your luggage.

You blinked, surprised by the offer, but your lips curved into a warm smile. “Oh, thanks, James. That’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but his ears turned a telltale shade of pink at your words. “What kind of bloke would I be if I didn’t help you out?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with nervous humor.

The two of you chatted as you strolled toward the train. You told him about your plans for the holidays—how you were excited to see your family, how your mum always made far too much food, and how you couldn’t wait to decorate the tree. James listened intently, nodding and laughing at all the right moments, even as his mind raced ahead to the task at hand.

Then, his opportunity came.

You turned away for a brief moment, waving at one of your friends across the platform. James acted quickly, pulling the envelope from his pocket and slipping it into the outermost compartment of your bag. His fingers brushed the fabric for only a second, but it felt like an eternity.

His heart was hammering so loudly he was certain it could be heard over the clamor of the platform. He straightened up just as you turned back to him, completely oblivious to what had just transpired.

“Thanks again for carrying that,” you said with a smile, your eyes meeting his.

James gave a small, lopsided grin and shifted your bag on his shoulder. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice steady despite the storm of nerves swirling inside him.

As the train’s whistle blew, signaling it was time to board, James knew there was no turning back now. All he could do was wait—and hope that when you found the letter, you’d read it and understand the words that had taken him so long to say.

It had been days since you’d left for the holidays, and James still hadn’t heard from you. Each passing day only worsened the sinking feeling in his chest.

Did you not feel the same? Did you hate him for ruining the friendship? Or worse, were you so disgusted by his confession that you couldn’t even bear to send him a letter saying so?

By Christmas morning, the knot of worry in James’s stomach had become unbearable. He’d stopped pacing and pretending not to care. He spent the early hours staring at the window, waiting for an owl that seemed as though it would never come.

But then, just as the first rays of sunlight streamed through his frosted window, he saw it—a familiar owl perched outside, clutching a small envelope in its talons. His heart leapt with a desperate flicker of hope. Maybe you’d only just found the letter. Maybe you’d taken your time because you wanted to write something perfect.

James hurried to open the window, shivering as the cold air rushed in. The owl extended its leg, allowing him to untie the letter. “Thanks, mate,” James murmured, absently offering the owl a treat before it flew off into the winter sky.

His fingers trembled as he opened the envelope, eager to see your handwriting. But his heart sank the moment he read the first line.

“Happy Christmas, James!”

No mention of his letter. No response to his confession. Just a short, cheerful note wishing him a wonderful holiday and apologizing for not writing sooner. You explained that things had been hectic at home and promised to catch up with him soon.

James felt his chest tighten, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The hope he’d been clinging to was slipping through his fingers.

You’d ignored his letter.

You’d chosen to act as though he’d never written it at all, as if he’d never poured his heart out on that piece of parchment.

James scoffed, his grip on the letter tightening. Fine, he thought bitterly. If you were going to pretend his confession didn’t exist, he could do the same.

He shoved the letter onto his desk, glaring at it as if it were the source of his frustration. Deep down, though, he knew the truth: he didn’t want to ignore you. He wanted to write back, to ask if you’d found the letter, to make sure you weren’t upset with him.

But pride was a stubborn thing, and James Potter wasn’t about to let his vulnerability show again—not now.

As the snow fell softly outside his window, James sat in silence, staring at the letter and wondering if he’d made a mistake by ever writing to you in the first place.

When it was time to return to Hogwarts, James made no effort to find you. Normally, he’d scan the platform, pretending it was a coincidence whenever his eyes landed on you. This time, he couldn’t bring himself to look.

He saw you anyway, just briefly—standing near your family, your face lit up with that familiar smile. His heart leaped in his chest, and his legs almost betrayed him, ready to stride over and say something, anything. But he stopped himself.

Instead, James turned sharply, mumbling a quick goodbye to his parents before heading onto the train. He didn’t want to see you—not now.

The walk through the train felt heavier than usual. He knew exactly where his friends would be—the same compartment they’d claimed since their first year—but it felt like an eternity to get there. When he finally slid open the door, the familiar faces of Sirius, Remus, and Peter greeted him.

“Oi, Prongs!” Sirius called cheerfully, but his grin faltered when James slumped onto the seat next to Peter with a loud huff.

James leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He could feel Sirius’s gaze on him, curious and probing.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Sirius asked, unable to resist.

“Don’t.” James’s voice was sharp, firm. It was rare for him to be in a foul mood, let alone snappish.

Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t say a word.”

The tension in the compartment was palpable. The train rattled on, and the usual chatter of the four friends was noticeably absent. Sirius kept stealing glances at James, who sat brooding, arms crossed. Peter fidgeted nervously, while Remus flipped through a book, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.

Finally, about an hour into the ride, James broke.

“She ignored my letter.” His voice was low, bitter, but it shattered the quiet like a hex.

The others exchanged looks before Peter spoke hesitantly. “She really ignored it?”

“Yes, Peter,” James snapped, his tone sharp enough to make Peter flinch. Realizing what he’d done, James sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Peter mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“Maybe she didn’t see it,” Remus offered, his tone calm and rational. “What if it got lost in her luggage? Or someone else found it and hid it? Maybe you gave her another piece of parchment? There’s always a chance—”

“Moony, no.” James cut him off, his voice strained. “I double-checked. It was the right letter, in the right spot. And who doesn’t check their trunk full of clothes over the holiday?”

“Maybe she doesn’t,” Sirius said with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, women can be unpredictable. Maybe she’s got a secret stash for random letters in her trunk.”

“No, she checks,” James said with certainty. “I’ve slipped plenty of things into her luggage before, and she’s always found them. She just doesn’t fancy me back.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, but he forced a small, bitter smile. “And it’s fine. I’ll get over it. I always do, right?”

The compartment fell silent again, the weight of James’s words sinking in.

Sirius leaned forward, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “It’s not fine, James. If she didn’t fancy you back, that’s one thing. But ignoring you? That’s—”

“Don’t,” James interrupted quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Don’t make it worse, Padfoot.”

Sirius bit back a retort and leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath.

The rest of the ride passed more comfortably, but the shadow of James’s disappointment lingered. His friends cracked jokes and told stories, trying to lift his spirits, but even when he laughed, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Deep down, James wondered if he’d ever stop wishing that you’d read his letter and felt the same way.

Hours later, everyone had gathered in the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling reflected the dusky evening sky, and the buzz of students catching up after the holiday filled the room. Normally, James would sit with Sirius to his left, you to his right, and Remus and Peter across from him. It was a familiar arrangement, one you’d fallen into without question.

But tonight, James broke the routine.

He subtly nudged Peter into the spot on his right before sitting down, leaving the space where you’d usually sit conspicuously empty.

You walked in a moment later, scanning the Gryffindor table until you spotted your usual group. But when you approached, your steps faltered. Peter sat where you always did, looking apologetic but saying nothing.

Your eyes darted to James, silently questioning him, but he avoided your gaze, his attention fixed stubbornly on his plate.

Confused, you looked to Remus for an explanation. Out of all the Marauders, he was the one you trusted most to give you a straight answer. But Remus only shrugged, his expression carefully neutral, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at discomfort.

You scoffed, your chest tightening. First, James ignored you all through the holiday, and now he didn’t even want to sit near you? Fine. If he wanted to sulk like a child, you weren’t going to beg for his attention.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked further down the table, sliding into a seat beside your other group of friends. You forced yourself to laugh at their jokes and join in their chatter, but your mind kept wandering back to James.

At the Gryffindor table, James’s eyes flicked toward you more often than he’d admit. Every time he saw you laughing with your friends, his stomach twisted.

“Why is she acting like I’m the one in the wrong?” James muttered under his breath, jabbing at a piece of roast potato with his fork.

“Maybe because you’re acting like a prat?” Sirius replied, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned closer.

James shot him a glare.

“Look, Prongs,” Sirius continued, dropping the teasing. “She doesn’t know what’s going on. You didn’t even give her a chance to explain, and now you’re sulking like a first-year who lost his chocolate frog cards.”

“Explain what? She ignored my letter, Padfoot. What’s there to explain?” James hissed, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.

Remus sighed, setting down his goblet. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe she doesn’t even know what letter you’re talking about?”

James froze, his fork hovering mid-air.

“Just talk to her, mate,” Sirius said, giving James a nudge. “Or don’t. But if you keep this up, you’re only making it worse—for both of you.”

James huffed, slumping back in his seat. The truth was, he didn’t know if he had it in him to face you just yet.

From across the hall, you caught the way James’s shoulders sagged, and for a brief moment, you considered walking over. But pride held you in place. If James wanted to act like this, fine. Two could play that game.

You and James hadn’t spoken in what felt like weeks. The once effortless connection you shared had been replaced with an awkward silence that weighed heavily on you. It wasn’t just James—it felt like the whole group of Marauders had grown distant, their usual antics and inside jokes missing their spark when you were around.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d done something to upset him. But what? You racked your brain for answers, replaying every interaction from the past few months. James had always been one of your closest friends—why was he acting so strange?

Charms class was the hardest part of it all. You always sat beside James, sharing notes, exchanging whispers, and stifling laughs when Professor Flitwick wasn’t looking. Now, you sat in the same spot, the chair next to you glaringly empty.

You tried to focus on the professor’s instructions, but your thoughts were louder than his voice. Scribbling aimlessly in your notebook, you hardly noticed when someone approached your desk.

“Are you alright?”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy with a blue-and-bronze tie standing beside you. His face was vaguely familiar—you’d seen him around in class but had never spoken to him.

“Yeah—yes, I’m fine,” you stammered, blinking in confusion. Why was he talking to you?

He gave a polite, slightly amused smile. “Well, can you move your stuff? I’m sitting here now. We’re partners for the project.”

“Oh!” Heat rose to your cheeks as you hurriedly shoved your books to one side. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize.”

“No worries,” he said, settling into the chair beside you. “I figured you weren’t paying attention—no offense. But I was, so I’ll explain what Professor Flitwick said.”

You managed a small smile, relieved by his casual tone. “Thanks. That’s… helpful.”

While he began outlining the project details, your focus wavered, glancing at James out of the corner of your eye. He was across the room, seated next to a loud and enthusiastic partner who seemed to be trying desperately to get his attention. But James wasn’t listening.

His gaze was fixed on you.

There was a flicker of something in his expression—jealousy, maybe? Regret? Whatever it was, it made your stomach twist.

You quickly turned your attention back to your new partner, nodding along to his explanation, even if you weren’t entirely listening. You felt James’s eyes on you the entire time, but you refused to look back.

Across the room, James’s jaw clenched. His partner waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oi, Potter! Are you even listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure,” James muttered, though his eyes drifted back to you moments later.

He hated this—seeing someone else sitting beside you, making you smile when that used to be his seat, his job. But he didn’t know how to fix it. The letter. The silence. The way he’d avoided you. It all felt too big now, too messy to undo.

Still, James couldn’t stop watching you, his heart sinking further with every laugh you shared with your new partner.

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taglist!! @zowiiiisblog , @kxnnxy , @rainingleaves , @icollectrubberduckies , @elsie-bells

#harry potter #harry potter oneshots #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter angst #james potter smut #james potter #James

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lurkinglurkerwholurks · 18 hours ago

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Oh oh I can tell you how I handle this!

First, I must acknowledge that epithets are hard. When writing in a specific character's POV, you have to be careful about describing another character only using descriptors that they would use or it'll feel awkward and weird. (I don't generally think about my sister's height relative to mine and therefore wouldn't refer to her as "the tall one" or even "the taller one", for example, unless it's relevant in the moment. Talking? Not relevant. Her hitting her head on a ledge that I missed? Relevant. That wouldn't be true of someone I just met. If you're tall[er than me] I'm probably noticing it and don't have other ways to differentiate you from other strangers.)

Luckily, I don't usually have to resort to epithets in writing, because readers can generally follow pronouns and support way more proper name uses than you might expect! Pronouns by definition are placeholders for proper names. Where writing gets confusing is when it feels like the pronouns are floating free and unmatched. Reconnecting the proper noun and the pronoun is all you need to reset.

Within a paragraph, use a proper noun enough to be clear. Vague, I know, but it really is an art instead of a science and largely comes down to personal taste. Refining your personal taste can help a ton, and one way to do that is to look at works by people who you feel write these kinds of scenes clearly and cogently. I'm going to use my own writing as an example, just to make it easy for myself.

Structuring your writing so the subject is fairly consistent will help a ton, as will "checking in" with a proper noun when it feels like you've checked in on the other person more recently.

[alt: The muscles in Bruce’s face, Jason realized, were good at going completely still when surprised. That was useful. He had said intervened like Jason had done it on purpose, throwing himself into this nightmare to save Bruce instead of acting like a petulant, stomping child. He had just a moment to wonder if the look from Bruce was meant as gratitude or as an apology when Bruce turned his attention back to the others. “It should reverse in a few days.”]

In the snippet above, because I'm moving tightly between two he/him characters, I use their names just enough to stick into place who's being reference at any given point. If I had wanted to be extra careful, I could have changed "He had just a moment to wonder" to "Jason had just a moment to wonder."

Over multiple paragraphs, when you're sticking with one person, reconnecting (or what I mentally refer to as "checking in") can happen once a paragraph and really shouldn't be needed more than that.

[alt: He really didn’t have much of note to say. Dick narrated his way through the canned goods and the dry goods, making jokes about Wally’s Skittles stash and the cans of Spaghetti-Os Roy demanded be kept on hand but no one else ever touched. He talked about a TV show he had been watching and made a joke that elicited a hrmm from Bruce that would have been a laugh from anyone else. And the more he talked, the more he remembered little stories from his week that he had tucked away with a mental note to tell Bruce.

At last, though, Dick had finished his final story and let the call lapse into a pause that stretched into silence. He bit his bottom lip and fidgeted with the rolls of gauze, stacking them into pyramids outside the gutted medical kit. He could never tell with Bruce whether the silences were contented or an interrogation technique, the patience of an investigator applying pressure to a reluctant witness. In the end, it didn’t much matter.]

But really, truly, the TL;DR of it all is you don't need as many epithets as you think; as long as you don't go crazy with your subject and object switches and check in on your connections regularly, you can lean on pronouns way more than you think; and readers can handle way more uses of names than you might suspect.

Me writing a scene with two or more people of the same gender and trying not to get the readers confused, while also trying not to overuse the characters' names or epithets

#I don't know how coherent this is because it's HARD to explain something you know by feel #but man do I love proper noun and pronoun linkage #gbu Prof. Cheney you stuck with me for life #writing advice #fanfic writer problems

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n1daehodefender · 3 days ago

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hii 💕 I love your writings. can I please request a fic or headcanons about going on an amusement park date with daeho (or anyone else you write for)? thank youu

Going to the amusement park headcanons!!

Pairing: Kang dae ho, Nam gyu, thanos (su-bong) separately

Warnings: none i think?

A/N: im sorry i havent posted in a couple days i havent been feeling my best:) but reqs are open

Kang Dae-ho

Dae-ho is over-the-moon excited when you suggest going to the amusement park. He immediately starts planning, looking up the best rides, the tastiest food stalls, and even figuring out the least crowded times to make sure the experience is perfect.

He insists on matching outfits, joking about wearing something ridiculous like cartoon-themed shirts or silly hats, but if you agree, he’s all in.

The morning of the trip, he wakes you up early, practically bouncing around like an overexcited puppy. He’s already packed essentials: sunscreen, water bottles, snacks, and even a small first-aid kit (his sisters made him overly prepared for everything).

Dae-ho’s excitement is contagious. He practically drags you from ride to ride, beaming like a kid on Christmas morning.

He’s obsessed with roller coasters and tries to convince you to ride the scariest ones with him. If you’re hesitant or scared, he’s incredibly understanding and doesn’t push. Instead, he’ll hold your hand, joke around to distract you, and promise to buy you as many snacks as you want afterward.

He’s a pro at carnival games. He wins a giant stuffed animal for you after spending way too much time and money on it. He’s ridiculously proud of himself and insists on carrying it around all day, even when it’s clearly inconvenient.

Between rides, he loves taking quiet breaks, sitting on benches while sharing cotton candy or churros. He insists on feeding you a piece, and his bright smile when you finally let him is priceless.

He’s incredibly affectionate, holding your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, or pulling you into spontaneous hugs. If you’re shy about PDA, he tries to tone it down but can’t help sneaking in little touches.

At sunset, he pulls you onto the Ferris wheel, claiming it’s the perfect way to end the day. As the ride reaches the top, he gets uncharacteristically quiet, gazing out at the view before turning to you with a soft, almost shy smile. “This is the best day ever… because I got to spend it with you.”

If anyone bumps into you or tries to cut in line, he immediately steps in, his normally sweet demeanor replaced with a firm, protective tone. He doesn’t get aggressive, but his presence alone is enough to make people back off.

He’s hyper-aware of your comfort, constantly checking if you’re okay, if you’re tired, or if you need anything.

Nam Gyu

Nam Gyu isn’t exactly thrilled when you suggest the amusement park. He claims it’s “too crowded and noisy,” but deep down, he’s touched that you want to spend the day with him. He tries to act nonchalant, but you catch the small smile he hides when you talk about your plans.

He’s not a morning person, so he grumbles the entire way there, sipping on his coffee and complaining about how early it is. But the moment he sees your excitement, he softens and starts making sarcastic comments to make you laugh.

Nam Gyu is surprisingly fun to go with because of his dry humor. He makes sarcastic remarks about the overly enthusiastic park staff, the overpriced snacks, and the long lines, but it’s all in good fun.

He’s not a fan of extreme rides, but he’ll go on them if you want to. He tries to act unfazed, but you catch him holding on for dear life during a particularly intense roller coaster. When you tease him afterward, he just smirks and says, “I was worried you’d be scared.”

His favorite part is the haunted house. He claims he’s not scared, but you catch him flinching at the jump scares. He tries to cover it up by teasing you, saying, “You screamed louder than me,” even if it’s not true.

Despite his gruff exterior, Nam Gyu has a soft side that shows in subtle ways. He buys you a souvenir without you asking and pretends it’s no big deal, even though he clearly put thought into it.

He’s not openly affectionate in public, but he’ll hold your hand or casually drape his arm around you, acting like it’s no big deal. If you’re nervous about a ride or a crowd, he gently squeezes your hand to reassure you.

By the end of the day, he’s surprisingly relaxed and even admits he had fun (though he’ll never outright say it was because of you). As you leave the park, he mutters, “Maybe we can do this again… sometime.” It’s his way of saying he had a great time without losing his cool persona.

Thanos (Su-bong)

Su-bong is so excited about going to the amusement park with you. He insists on making it a surprise date and goes all out, even printing out the park map and planning an itinerary.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, running from ride to ride with boundless energy. You can barely keep up with him, but his laughter and enthusiasm are so infectious that you don’t mind.

He’s fearless when it comes to rides, always choosing the biggest, fastest, and scariest ones. He cheers loudly during roller coasters and even throws his hands up, encouraging you to do the same.

On gentler rides, like the merry-go-round, he pretends to be bored but secretly loves the cheesy charm of it. He jokes about riding the biggest horse and asks you to take pictures of him posing dramatically.

Su-bong is super competitive at carnival games. He spends way too much money trying to win a stuffed animal for you, refusing to give up until he succeeds. When he finally wins, he acts smug and says, “Told you I’d get it for you.”

He also challenges you to silly games, like who can eat the most cotton candy or who screams the loudest on a ride. His laughter is constant, and his playful attitude makes the day unforgettable.

Despite all the chaos, Su-bong has a surprisingly romantic side. He insists on taking cute selfies together, making silly faces and then snapping one where you’re both smiling genuinely.

He surprises you by buying matching accessories, like hats or bracelets, and proudly wears his, claiming it’s a “symbol of our teamwork.”

At the end of the day, he takes you to a quiet spot to watch the fireworks. For once, he’s uncharacteristically quiet, wrapping his arms around you and whispering, “Thanks for making today so amazing. You’re the best part of any adventure.”

#squid game #squid game 2 #kang dae ho #kang dae ho x reader #squid game x reader #squid game 2 x reader #nam gyu #nam gyu x reader #thanos #thanos squid game #thanos x reader

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monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my · 1 day ago

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TW: Talk about mental health and sui ideation and sui attempt

I feel the need to talk more about Jayce's "attempt" again because of what I learned from his journal in the "Council Archives"

There's a fair argument to be made that Jayce was already in a very bad headspace even BEFORE the explosion in his apartment.

If you read Jayce's journals it feels like Jayce was ALREADY spiraling before he got kicked out of the academy. For a few reasons.

-----

1.Jayce was very isolated to begin with.

He was working on experiments he knew were illegal and was so paranoid about being found out he started coming up with insults to call another student who almost caught him throwing away a failed experiment.

He also seemed to only be able to cheer himself up by talking shit about other people's work and how everyone else just couldn't measure up to how important his work was and would be. And when he finally meets Viktor he talks about never really thinking he'd take to working with another scientist.

(Honestly, pre-act 1 Jayce comes off a little more like his LOL counterpart which make me believe Arcane Jayce meeting and working with Viktor as early as he did is what helped make him the version of himself he is in Arcane?)

------

2. Jayce was not really sleeping and his schoolwork and grades were going downhill.

He talks in his journal about the fact that he's not getting to sleep until sunrise a lot of nights because he was trying and failing to make the crystals work.

And as a direct consequence of not sleeping he talks about Heimerdinger (the DEAN) having to come talk to him because his grades are slipping.

Jayce literally decides to make a graph correlating his lack of sleep to his poor academic performance.

(Later he expresses concern that he might get expelled from the academy because his work is slipping that badly).

And remember all the while when he is so sleep-deprived he can't focus on coursework he is FULLY CONVINCED he can figure out Hextech. You know a whole new field of study. It doesn't work, shockingly.

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3. Ximena was already worried about Jayce wellbeing and trying to get him to go outside and be around others.

He eats some snacks insults some people's work to himself and then goes back to doing what he was doing.

Not a lot to talk about with this one except it's no wonder she tried to get him to back off magic if she could already tell he wasn't okay especially when we consider the state he was in at that point.

You also see that both his mother and Heimerdinger were expressing valid concern for him only for him to brush it off.

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4. Near the end of the journal entries before we get to the ACT 1 content he says some concerning things considering his later attempt on his life.

First he starts to doubt what he's getting anywhere he remembers something Heimdinger once said about most inventors failing a 1000 times before succeeding and he makes a self-deprecating joke about "I suppose I must be closing in...".

Then he straight up says he can't see a path forward.

And when makes a pros and cons list of his experiments where he talks about how the work with the crystals is very dangerous and if he pushes to much it could kill him but also how he's in danger of getting expelled if he can't sort out his schoolwork.

and then he writes.

"Which is worse? Killed or expelled?"

Which is certainly a Harry Potter reference but also given his eventual attempt is very telling.

And it's closely followed by him saying his mom was worried about him, which... seems valid.

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

Also on a side note unrelated to the journal entries.

Jayce's attempt was not a choice made suddenly in a rush of emotion like Viktor's, he planned it.

Jayce not only left what was implied to be a suicide note he took the methodical time to literally WAX SEAL the note with his official house mark. And it took Viktor a long long while of talking to him to get him to back away from the ledge. He was fully committed to committing.

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

Final thoughts: I think Jayce was in a place in his mind backed into a corner.

He wasn't able to reach out for help or even trust anyone because of the nature of his work. He wasn't listening to people that were concerned about him. And the way in which Jayce was doing his work was damaging to himself and his life in general. He was spiraling.

He needed someone else there to share the weight of what he was trying to do, to be able to reach out to outside of his own head which was the person Viktor became to him.

Part of me even wonders if Jayce was already in a place where he might have ended up on that ledge without the explosion if he didn't change his ways or have a sudden breakthrough.

#arcane #jayce talis #character analysis #jayce arcane #viktor arcane #thoughts #arcane meta #arcane lol #ximena talis #heimerdinger #tw sui ideation #tw sui attempt #jayce and viktor #jayce x viktor #Jayvik #I joked about the journal entries before but the more I reflected on what I read the more you start to realize Jayce wasn't doing so hot #tw suicidal ideation

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andhumanslovedstories · 2 days ago

Note

you think often of how nurses should speak and relate to patients, and i highly appreciate knowing you put this kind of thought in and share it with other nurses. but as someone who often occupies the patient position, i'm curious if you have any thoughts on ways for patients to interact with nurses, when we are in decent enough control of our faculties to make choices about that. i would like this knowledge from both an altruistic perspective in recognizing nursing is difficult and not wanting to voluntarily make it difficulter, and a wholly self interested position of knowing nurses who like interacting with me give better care. what helps as a professional and as a person?

I'm surprised how much I had to think about this question. What do I want patients to do? I don't know. A lot of it is basic human decency, some of it is specific to my nursing workflow, but overall I find it complicated saying what patients "should" do. I cut out about 500 words of navel gazing from this post explaining why. Here are answers I've come up, in no order and not of equal importance.

--a lot of it is basic "polite interaction with another person in a professional setting." If you're asking this question, you probably care about treating people well in general. If you wouldn't say it to a barista, would you say it to your nursing tech?

--don't do joke answers to basic orientation questions like "what's your name" and "where are you right now", because it's annoying to have to clarify if you're actually confused or if you're fucking with me. I know they're annoying. Just answer correctly so we can move on.

--have some flexibility and patience. Hospitals have a lot of moving parts, and each person interacting with you has other patients that also need care. My hospital and state has mandated nursing ratios. The maximum amount of patients I've had in one assignment is five. Other hospitals have far less protection, and nurses may have six, eight, twelve other patients. Our respiratory therapists each cover multiple units. One CNA might cover the entire floor. I know if melatonin is the difference between you sleeping or not sleeping, it is very frustrating for someone to bring it late. I just ask you keep in mind that there's dozens of reasons that might happen besides someone ignoring you.

--help us help you. If you can lift your arm up for me to put a blood pressure cuff on, why are you holding your arm completely limp so it's like putting pants on a toddler than doesn't want to get dressed? If you can help roll yourself in bed, help us roll you. If your IV is beeping, hit the call light so someone can come turn it off. If you don't have urgency issues and you can tell you're going to need to go to the bathroom soon, call before it's an emergency. If your IV hurts when I give you medication at 8 pm, tell me then, not when I'm trying to give you your midnight antibiotic and all the evening staff have already gone home.

--if you don't understand how something works in the hospital (what happens when you hit the call light, how often are people going to take your vital signs, why can't I get up and walk around the room), just ask. It's really easy for people who work in a hospital every day to forget other people aren't familiar with it.

--don't treat doctors noticeably better than you treat everyone else.

--pet peeve number one: if I give you pills in a med cup, you can just use the med cup to get the pills to your mouth. You don't need to pour the pills into the palm of your hand and then pop them into your mouth. You're gonna drop the pills, and I'm gonna end up on the floor looking for a tiny tablet of dilaudid.

--bundle requests, especially low-importance ones. If you ask for crackers and you know crackers make you thirsty, just request your drink at the same time. Don't make me walk to your room, the nutrition room, and your room again ten minutes later.

--I don't expect people in the hospital to be pleasant all the time, and I don't take snappiness personally, but I always really appreciate the patients who apologize or even just acknowledge their behavior.

--I love patients who acknowledge my work. I don't need effusive praise or a thousand thank yous. It means a lot for someone to just be like "hey, thanks for your help tonight."

--have patience with repeating yourself. If you've got something important and complicated to convey, practice a quick understandable blurb that takes no brain power from you. There may be something that you've told the staff a dozen times, and it may be documented in your chart, but in the hospital you see many people who have never worked with you before and for whatever reason didn't read that info in your chart. For example, I'm a float pool nurse which means I almost never see the same patients twice. I can get sent to a different unit and a different patient load at literally any time. I can't familiarize myself with complicated documentation or read every nursing note. Especially not for patients I know I will only have for four hours. I know repeating yourself is annoying, I know it sucks to have to explain your bathroom routine or your preferred pain med or when you like to get pills or whatever every shift. And it's great when people make that information very easy to find! But if you just accept the reality you'll be repeating yourself a lot anyway, it makes doing so less frustrating.

--pet peeve number two: don't exaggerate to make a point. This is such a human thing to do, and god knows I catch myself doing it all the time, but you can raise objections in a way that's factually true. I've got a lot of concrete data that people are very often wrong when they say they're been "waiting for hours" after hitting a call light. The computer has a time stamp of the last time I was in your room. I know it was 45 minutes ago. There's a timer by the call light. I know you called twenty minutes ago. And I know it feels much longer when you are waiting for basic cares or pain control or anything pressing. Things can be unacceptable without needing to be exaggerated. When the exaggeration is the base of your complaint, it undercuts your credibility. Honestly I find it really irritating when I spend a disproportionate amount of my shift with one patient only for that patient to tell another staff member that I've been neglecting them. Just say I did a bad job, don't pretend I wasn't there at all.

--don't ask me to pull my mask down so you can see my face. like cmon dude.

--I'm not saying you have to send all your visitors out of the room when I'm there, I'm just saying have some sympathy for how nerve-wracking it can be to do your job while being intensely watched by five other deeply invested people with limited context for your actions.

--this is a nebulous and difficult one. You might have a lot of emotion that you don't know what to do with. What you shouldn't do with it is channel it into every interaction you have with a healthcare worker. If you feel guilty about how you haven't visited your mother in a while and now she's in the hospital, you gotta find ways to deal that don't involve getting extremely passive aggressive at your mother's night nurse.

#b.#nursing tag

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dignitywhatdignity · 22 hours ago

Text

I'm a stay at home mom, and by necessary extension, a housewife.

I look like a fool in a flowy white sundress. I live in jeans and graphic t-shirts.

We don't have a backyard, much less a field of native wildflowers (I do try to grow native wildflowers in my shoebox-sized front garden).

I'm lucky, and also unlucky. My husband makes good enough money to support me not working; if I worked full time, I'd barely be covering daycare. I'm well aware how vulnerable that makes me.

I struggled, as a kid. I couldn't be a tomboy, because tomboy liked (and were good at) sports. I was a benchwarmer in softball. I lost every tennis match. I kept aging out of recreational and instructional leagues, and my parents and I agreed it was a waste of time and money for me to join competitive leagues, since I'd just be sitting there doing nothing. Even dance class, when it was obvious I was never going to compete, I was largely blown off by the instructors, who had future champions more worthy of the attention.

I wore a skirt every day -- school uniforms -- but i couldn't keep my knee socks up. I couldn't keep myself neat (typical adhd girl, I excelled in school as long as I could bite my nails or twirl my hair. So my nails and hair looked like shit).

I was among the top three in the class, with two boys. The boys hated me because I outperformed them. The girls... I think just didn't know what to do with me. I was probably annoying. I wasn't feminine enough. No doubt I was a bit of a know it all (but if you read books, you'd know it too! Why doesn't anyone else like books?!) .

It was a joke, an insult, to be romantically linked to me. "You like [dwd]!!!" What's wrong with you. "[Dwd] likes you!!!!" You poor asshole, stuck with her attention. One or two guys may have liked me and showed it in that toxic, abusive way boys were encouraged to in the 1990s. Or maybe they were just hateful, bullying shits. The two aren't mutually exclusive. In any event, I was clearly too ugly, too annoying, too smart for anyone to like.

And I wasn't about to change myself to get them to like me. I wouldn't have known how even if i wanted to.

So if someone said I looked good, they were clearly making fun of me. (Usually they were. Maybe sometimes they weren't. I still have a hard time telling the difference. Sometimes Husband calls me his "beauty queen of 18" and I'm like, "yes, I'm old and ugly, you don't need to tease me.")

In high school, I'd be in groups where I was the only girl among boys. If they didn't like you, they'd hit you or ignore you.

I'd be in groups where there were no guys, or only one guy. If they didn't like you, they'd swear you were their best friend and then, when your back was turned, declare you a bitch and a slut.

Never dated a guy from my own school. Anyone I did date was easily more awkward than i was. And I didn't have a serious boyfriend until shortly before graduation.

So in college I was definitely "not like other girls". The sororities didn't want me. I didn't wear uggs and booty shorts to class; neither did I join the rugby team and show up wearing sweatpants and bruises. My circle of friends was mostly guys; even after I wised up, my wedding party was, too.

I don't want a fucking homestead. I'm barely treading water keeping my house clean as it is. Bread from scratch and homemade jam? I cook three days a week; enjoy your leftovers and sandwiches.

I still don't have as many friends as I'd like, and none of us relate to each other. B is a divorced mom with a high-powered job who is a devoted mom when she has custody and wild when her kid is with dad. A is a single mom by choice with a high-powered job, generational wealth, and a ton of family support. K1 and her husband moved to another city; their jobs are there to subsidized their hobbies: hiking, gourmet cooking, crafts. K2 and her husband...might be homesteading; they bought a big piece of land for babies and dogs to run free on. D and her husband are definitely homesteading, but she's the breadwinner and he's the homemaker; if you dared him, I am *sure* he'd run around in their field of wildflowers wearing a white sundress.

All this to say:

I'm a housewife.

I'm a cis woman.

I have never in my life done femininity "right" and I am too old and too tired to start now.

the tradwife movement is the same as it has always been - back in the kitchen, back to breeding - it just has better branding.

when i was younger, i hated pink. i was not like other girls. this is now something i'm embarrassed of - this was not me being a "girl's girl."

but it was expressing something many of us felt at the time: i literally wasn't what girlhood was supposed to be. this is a hard thing to explain, but you know when you're not performing girlhood correctly. it isn't as easy as "i liked x when girls liked y" - because there were other girls that liked x, too - but i never figured out exactly the correct way to like x, or to be interested in y.

now there is the divine feminine. this is the same rhetoric it has always been: women are biologically driven to like pink and ribbons and submitting to our husbands.

the problem is that the patriarchy found a better PR team. because yes, actually, i want every woman to have the choice to be a homemaker. i also want her taken seriously for her legitimate home-making labor. i want her to be recognized as also having a job, just unpaid. i want men to have this opportunity, too.

but it is no longer "i made this choice and I love it." instead it is a sixteen-paragraph rant about how selfish it is that my generation isn't having kids. instead it's long videos about how if you feed your children processed foods, you're going to kill them. instead it is "this is what womanhood is supposed to be. i feel bad for any other choices you're making."

the shame spiral is just prettier. it is large houses devoid of personality. it is the implication: if you don't have this, you aren't happy. the solid, everlasting assurance: women are actually supposed to be submitting. this is the default. this is the natural state of things. all other attempts inflict suffering.

but you can no longer say i'm not like other girls. you can no longer reject this image completely. you cannot find it revolting, even if you know that the underbelly is toxic and festering. sure, it is the same repackaged patriarchy. but the internet does not have shades of grey. you should support and reward other women! your disgust is actually internalized misogyny. not because you are seeing a vision of yourself the way they're trying to train you to be. not because you feel her ghost pass within an inch of your earlobe. not because your father will eventually ask you - why can't you be like her?

because they figured out how to make it beautiful: women will sell other women on this idea, and we will find the singular loophole in feminism. sure, she's shaming you in most of her videos. sure, she implies that a different life is obscene. but she just wants you to be happy! you'd be happier if you were listening!

and the whole time you're sitting there thinking: i'd actually just be happier if i had that kind of money.

#i don't even know how to tag this

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rafeysdeer · 3 days ago

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imperfect for you (aka insecure reader x comforting rafe)

kook!reader x rafe cameron

prompt: a party that was supposed to be relaxing and to clear the head goes terribly wrong, leaving a very anxious and insecure reader, good thing she has her very caring boyfriend who knows exactly how to take care of her.

a/n: okay, that's the first time i write for rafe, i really like obx and rafe, so i tried my best in here, but i didn't really like it, i think it's bcs it's my first time writing about him. english is not my first language, i hope you guys like it 💗

You weren't exactly excited about going to this party, but you knew your boyfriend was, and you didn't want to be a party pooper, and at least you'd be with him, nothing bad would happen if you gave up and went to a party, right?

Well, you were wrong, terribly wrong, even though you were a kook, you never exactly fit in, you never got the right friends, and even though you were pretty, guys just didn't seem to be interested in you.

That was until, Rafe Cameron laid eyes on you, in your little sundress, having a drink at the club, just looking for some peace, you looked almost ethereal in his eyes, and he just knew you were meant to be together, it took a while to convince you of that. You spent most of the talk thinking it was some bad joke, because there was no way, Rafe Cameron, the king of kooks, was there, talking to you, interested in you and not on your hot friend, or literally anyone else.

You two get along almost instantly, his charm had you wrapped around his finger, and you loved it.

It had been months since you two started dating, but you still didn't feel like you fit into his social circle. So when, the first moment he separated from you at the party, a girl purposely bumped into you, spilling her drink on your short dress and whispering 'Whore' in your ear, you were sure.

Rafe didn't get it why you suddenly looked so upset, but he wanted everything, but to see his girl upset, so when he suggested for you, that you two go home, you happily headed towards the truck.

"Sweetheart, you need to talk to me. What the hell happened that you suddenly look like a kicked puppy?" and it only took his playful words for you to burst into tears in the passenger seat, it wasn't just the girl or the stained dress, everything looked too much, and you looked so small, a girl being an bitch was all you needed to lose it.

Rafe immediately looked at you with his blue eyes filled with concern. "Hey, love, I was just kidding, you don't look like a kicked puppy, I swear." he says trying to understand what happened to make you break down.

You looked up at him, your pretty eyes shining with tears. "I just-, I don't feel like I fit in, Rafey, like i fit right in with you, but i'm just unwanted by everyone else," she says, her voice cracking with tears. "I tried to fit in, but I've been around these people my whole life, and they've never liked me, and now I feel like I'm holding you back, or making them look down at you"

Now, he looks like a kicked puppy as he looks at you with a worried expression. "Honey, you don't have to fit in, those people at the party, they don't like me either, they look at me like shit too and that's not your fault, not at all, you don't need to fit in with them because you think you have to because of me, the only person I need by my side, is you."

She blinks her bright eyes at him, as if the words had run away from her mind. The car stops in front of the house, and he gets out, opening the door for her, greeting her with a kiss before the words even come back to her. "I love you, no matter what any of those assholes think, because you're the one who's here for me, not them."

She looks at him, looking almost wonderstruck, a smile breaking across her face, wrapping her arms around his neck. "The only person I need is you, Rafe," she says, knowing that the feeling was mutual. "What do you say we go inside, put you in some comfy clothes, and watch Sex and the City?" She laughs at how well he knows her as they walk into the house, his hand around her waist.

"Sounds perfect."

#rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #drew starkey #outerbanks rafe #obx #outer banks

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enemiestolovershoe · 3 days ago

Text

Backstage Comfort

Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: Noah takes care of reader while being on her period. Matt and Folio wouldn’t be Matt and Folio when they wouldn’t tease Noah.

Words: 798

Warnings: Period and Cramps, Teasing

A/N: This was requested but I somehow deleted the request. I wrote another version of this with just reader and Noah. Click here.

The backstage area of the venue buzzed with pre-show energy. The hum of amplifiers being tested, the shuffle of crew members setting up, and the distant roar of an excited crowd all blended into a chaotic symphony. Normally, you thrived in this environment, feeding off the adrenaline of watching Noah and the rest of Bad Omens prepare for another killer performance. But today, you weren’t feeling quite as enthusiastic.

You sat curled up on a couch in the corner of the green room, clutching a small pillow to your stomach. The ache in your abdomen hadn’t eased all day, and no amount of ibuprofen or deep breathing seemed to help.

Noah walked in from the hallway, dressed in his signature all-black outfit. His dark eyes scanned the room, immediately landing on you. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with concern as he crossed the room in a few long strides. “You okay?”

You managed a weak smile. “Just cramps. I’ll be fine.”

Noah frowned, crouching in front of you so he could meet your eyes. “You don’t look fine.”

“It’s just one of those days,” you admitted. “Don’t worry about me. You have a show to get ready for.”

“Yeah, well, you’re more important than the show,” he said simply, his brow furrowed. “What do you need? Food? Tea? Heating pad?”

Your heart melted a little at how quickly he shifted into caretaker mode. “I don’t think they have a heating pad in the green room,” you said with a small laugh.

“Then I’ll improvise.” He stood up, glancing around the room.

At that moment, Matt walked in, clipboard in hand and his headset slightly askew. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and teasing. “Why’s Noah looking like a guy on a mission?”

“She’s got cramps,” Noah said without missing a beat, turning to Matt. “Do we have anything warm she can use? Like a towel or something?”

Matt’s mouth quirked into a smirk. “Look at you, Dr. Caregiver. You thinking of adding ‘period expert’ to your résumé?”

Noah shot him a flat look. “Are you going to help, or are you just here to make jokes?”

“Both,” Matt replied, his grin widening. “But mostly jokes.” He turned to you, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You sure you’re okay? He’s not being too overbearing, is he?”

You smiled despite the ache in your stomach. “No, he’s perfect.”

“Perfectly whipped,” Matt muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from Noah.

Folio wandered in next, a drumstick twirling lazily between his fingers. “What’s going on? Why’s Noah looking like someone kicked his puppy?”

“He’s trying to MacGyver a heating pad,” Matt explained, clearly enjoying himself.

Folio raised an eyebrow. “So, full boyfriend mode, huh? Let me guess—he’s already planning a tea ceremony and a hot towel spa experience for you.”

You chuckled at their antics while Noah groaned. “You two are so helpful,” he said dryly, heading out of the room.

“Always,” Matt called after him, winking at you.

When Noah returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a warm towel and a bottle of water. He placed the towel gently over your stomach, adjusting it with care. “Better?” he asked, sitting beside you.

“Much better,” you said softly, leaning into him.

“Need anything else? Tea? Snacks? Ice cream?”

“You’ve already done enough,” you replied, touched by his efforts.

“Too bad. I’m not stopping.”

Matt, who had taken up residence on the couch across from you, grinned. “You’re really setting the bar here, man. How’re the rest of us supposed to compete with this level of dedication?”

“You’re not,” Noah replied without missing a beat.

Folio snorted. “Okay, but if she starts expecting this every time, we’re blaming you for creating unrealistic standards.”

Noah smirked. “Good. You should all take notes.”

Despite their teasing, Matt and Folio made themselves useful, making sure the crew left you alone and bringing over a blanket they found in the equipment closet. Between Noah’s warmth and their lighthearted banter, the ache in your stomach seemed just a little easier to bear.

When it was finally time for the show, you felt well enough to join the crew at the side of the stage. Matt gave you an exaggerated thumbs-up as you took your spot, while Folio leaned over and muttered, “Let us know if Nurse Noah slacks off.”

Noah rolled his eyes, but his arm slipped protectively around your waist as he glanced down. “You good?” he asked quietly.

“Perfect,” you said, smiling up at him.

And as the lights dimmed and the first chords rang out, you couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for Noah, but for the ridiculous, wonderful team around you who made even the worst days bearable.

Taglist: @courta13

#fanfiction #noah sebastian x you #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian x reader #noah bad omens #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian #new writer boost #new writers on tumblr #support new writer

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heartsriki · 14 hours ago

Text

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY ⌇ 우리를

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader — featuring.. sunghoon | word count: 5.7k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ childhood friends, tease ni-ki, middle school to highschool au, cussing, angst if you use a magnifying glass, fluff, kissing, underage drinking, miscommunication.

synopsis — Ever since middle school, Nishimura Riki has been an absolute pain. Now at your senior year of high school, things get complicated when confused feelings start to rise.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊I am here to represent the playful over nonchalant riki agenda 🤓☝️I wanted this to give shitty 2000's romance movie did I succeed? (this is so ass but I haven't posted a pic in a while so muah, creative fics coming soon trust)

If there was one universal truth in your life, it was this: you hated Nishimura Riki.

Childhood best friends? The kind you see in movies, laughing over dumb jokes, sharing secrets under a blanket fort, or being there for each other no matter what? Yeah, that wasn’t you and Riki. Not even close.

Your history with him began the summer before middle school, a day you remembered all too clearly.

“Who’s moving in, Mom?” you asked, watching the moving truck parked outside the empty house next door.

She glanced over as she set down a stack of plates. “A family with a boy about your age,” she replied, patting your head. “Maybe you’ll make a new friend! Why don’t you go say hi?”

You wrinkled your nose, stepping back from the window. “I wish it was a girl.”

Mom sighed and gave you that knowing look as she moved around the kitchen. “You never know. Your dad and I were childhood friends once.”

“Gross,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “That’s so weird.”

And just like that, you moved on with your life, assuming the new boy next door was unimportant. After all, families came and went in your neighborhood. You didn’t expect him to stick around—or to matter.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The first day of middle school was supposed to be a fresh start. You had plans. Big plans. Make friends, fit in, and survive until High School. And for a moment, it seemed like everything would go smoothly. Until him.

Lunch was going fine. You grabbed your tray, scanning the cafeteria for a place to sit when you collided with someone. Hard.

Your lunch went flying, splattering all over you, and in your panic, you looked up, ready to apologize. But then you noticed he was perfectly fine—completely untouched—like the universe had gone out of its way to humiliate only you.

You glanced at his name tag. Nishimura Riki.

He crouched to help, concern etched across his face. “Are you okay—”

Before he could finish, a blinding camera flash went off, followed by whispers and giggles erupting all around you. Mortified, you bolted to the nearest bathroom.

You thought that would be the end of it, but Riki wasn’t done ruining your life. Far from it.

In gym class? He always aimed for you during dodgeball. At lunch? He somehow snagged the last banana milk every time. Clubs? Teachers practically begged him to join while you couldn’t even get a recommendation. Worst of all, everyone adored him. Everyone but you.

By the end of your first year, Nishimura Riki was your sworn enemy.

And then things got… complicated.

It happened one evening while you were studying in your room. A soft knock at the door interrupted your focus.

“Come in,” you called, expecting your mom.

She stepped inside with two glasses of water. “Remember the tutoring favor I mentioned? My friend’s son is here in need of help, Be nice, okay?”

“Sure,” you replied, not thinking much of it.

But when the door creaked open again, you froze.

“Not who you were expecting?” Riki grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You crossed your arms. “What are you doing here Riki?”

Riki winced. “Tutoring obviously, and could you please just call me ni-ki like everyone else?”

“You’re not coming in,” you snapped, blocking the doorway.

He sighed dramatically. “And what would I tell your mom?” He bent slightly to meet your glare, his grin widening when you finally moved aside.

“Fine. Sit down,” you muttered, plopping back at your desk.

For the next hour, you worked in tense silence. Or tried to, anyway. Riki kept fidgeting, pulling out a folded piece of paper halfway through.

“What’s that?” you asked, snatching it before he could stop you.

“Hey!” he yelped, scrambling to grab it back.

It didn’t take long to figure out what it was: another love letter. You rolled your eyes and tossed it back at him. “Veryyyy humble.”

“Not my fault I’m handsome, but it really is annoying though, I'm constantly surrounded… sometimes I feel like I'm drowning” he muttered, leaning back on his hands.

You were thrown off by his sincerity but you ignored him until he suddenly perked up as if struck by divine inspiration.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up straighter. “I have an idea.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s never good.”

“Let’s be friends, like attached to the hip friends.”

You blinked. “What?”

He grinned. “Think about it. You don’t have anyone covering your back at school, and I need someone to scare off all the girls who keep following me around. It’s perfect.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hard pass.”

“Come on, at least think about it!” he whined.

Unfortunately, he didn’t leave you much of a choice. Day by day, Riki wormed his way into your life, showing up at your house, sticking by you at school, and, somehow, turning everyone’s attention to you.

It was annoying. It was infuriating. But, worst of all? It worked.

Fast forward to your senior year of high school, and here you were—still stuck with Nishimura Riki. And somehow, despite your ups and downs, things weren’t going to be quite so simple anymore.

You were buried in your assignments, your usual library spot surrounded by a fortress of papers, highlighters, and books. It was your sanctuary, a place where Riki always knew he could find you.

He wasn’t alone when he spotted you this time. A couple of his friends hung around, laughing about something entirely unimportant in his mind the second his eyes landed on you. His grin stretched wide, and with an exaggerated sigh, he excused himself. The girls groaned, rolling their eyes at his now-predictable antics. “You’re obsessed, ni-ki,” one of them muttered, but he didn’t care.

Jogging up to your table, he glanced at your mess of notes and books. You didn’t even look up. Of course.

“What is it, Riki?” you murmured, still scribbling, your tone bored, uninterested—classic.

“Would it kill you to talk to me lovingly every once in a while, Y/N?” he mocked, flopping into the chair across from you. His eyes darted to the pile of folded papers shoved to the side, and his eyebrows shot up. “Oh? What’s this? Love letters? These for me again?”

You finally glanced up, leveling him with that deadpan expression he swore you saved just for him. “They’re definitely not mine,” you replied flatly.

He gasped, hand over his chest like you’d shot him. “Poor baby. Jealous much?” he teased, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Of you? Hardly.”

Riki narrowed his eyes at you, suddenly curious. Now that he thought about it, he’d never actually seen you with anyone—no rumors, no dates, no shy confessions. And while you always rolled your eyes whenever he brought up girls in front of you, you never chimed in about any guy in your life. Suspicious.

“Y/N,” he started, his tone a little too casual as he began doodling nonsense shapes on the table. “When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Well, you remember Choi—”

“Choi Soobin? That lasted, what, a week?” he scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“And why do you think that is, genius?” you shot back, pointing your pencil at him accusingly.

Riki faltered for a split second before looking away. “Well… I think you can do so much better than him,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

Your brow shot up, amused. “Oh? Alright then, Mr. Matchmaker. Who’s my ‘better match,’ huh?”

His mouth opened, then shut. For once, he didn’t have a quick answer. He gulped, scrambling to save face. “How about I… set you up?”

You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “With one of your fuckboy friends? No thanks.”

“Hey! Not them!” he laughed, hands up in defense. “I meant someone like… Sunghoon.”

That made you pause. “Sunghoon? Like tall, calm, cool, and basically perfect Sunghoon? Yeah, right. He wouldn’t go on a date with me in a million years.”

“What? Says who?” Riki shot back, standing up like he’d just been challenged to a duel. “I’ll talk to him. Watch and learn, Y/N. Watch and learn.”

“Riki—”

“Later! Don’t miss me too much” He winked and walked off, leaving you to roll your eyes at his retreating figure, wondering if he’d actually follow through or if this was just another one of his ridiculous schemes.

“Y/N? I thought you guys were dating,” Sunghoon said, his brow furrowing in confusion as he leaned back against the locker.

Riki nearly choked on his water, his eyes going wide as he turned to face him. “What? No, Y/N is just a friend.” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Oh. Huh. Well, I think I’m gonna pass anyway. She’s kind of… boring?”

The words hit Riki like a slap. His head snapped toward Sunghoon so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Boring?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “Says who?”

Sunghoon shrugged nonchalantly. “Everyone. I mean, I haven’t seen her at a single party or game, not even during lunch. What would we even talk about?”

Riki scoffed, crossing his arms as he glared at him. “Y/N is plenty of fun, asshole. What do you even know?” His voice was defensive, almost protective, and it surprised even himself.

Sunghoon tilted his head, studying Riki’s reaction. “I mean, she seems… quiet,” he admitted. “But now that I think about it, if you’re the one setting me up with her, she’s probably pretty great. You don’t exactly play matchmaker for just anyone.”

Riki blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Uh… well, yeah, she is great,” he muttered, not meeting Sunghoon’s eyes.

Sunghoon grinned. “You know what? Why not? She’s cute.”

Riki froze. His grip tightened on the strap of his backpack, and for a split second, he wasn’t sure why his stomach twisted at Sunghoon’s words. Calling you cute? Of course, you were cute. He’d always known that. So why did it sound weird coming from someone else?

He quickly shook off the strange feeling, chalking it up to his usual overprotectiveness. “Alright,” he said, his voice coming out more clipped than he intended. “But don’t do anything weird. Seriously.”

Sunghoon laughed, pushing off the locker. “Weird? Relax, I’ll be a gentleman. So, you gonna tell her, or should I?”

Riki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell her. Just… don’t mess this up, alright?”

Sunghoon smirked as he walked away. “I won’t. But, man, you’re acting real possessive for ‘just a friend,’ don’t you think?”

Riki didn’t respond, watching as Sunghoon disappeared down the hall. The words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—he was more than just “overprotective” when it came to you.

Today, you felt a kind of giddiness you hadn’t experienced in a while. After weeks of drowning in study sessions, late-night cramming for club responsibilities, and endless schoolwork, you were finally doing something for yourself. And to top it all off, you weren’t just going out—you were going out with a boy.

It had been forever since you’d made this much effort. You dolled yourself up, not too over the top, but more than your usual routine. Casual but undeniably cute. You felt like a new version of yourself, and it was exciting.

Standing in front of your mirror, you hummed along to the music playing softly in the background, carefully adjusting your hair. You tilted your head, giving yourself one last once-over with a satisfied grin when there was a knock on your door.

“Y/N, I’m coming in,” came the familiar voice.

Before you could even respond, the door creaked open, and Riki stepped inside. His usual easy-going demeanor faltered the second he saw you. The air felt heavy, and his eyes widened as if he’d been caught off guard.

For a moment, he just stared, the words dying in his throat. Why were you so dressed up? He’d seen you a thousand times, but never like this. Something about the way your hair framed your face, the slight gloss on your lips, and the way your outfit hugged your figure—it was like he was seeing you for the first time.

Were you always this pretty?

“Is he on his way? What kind of car does he drive?” you asked, practically buzzing with excitement.

Your voice snapped him out of whatever trance he was in, and he blinked, his expression hardening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Uh… yeah, he’s almost here,” he muttered, his tone uncharacteristically stiff.

The doorbell rang, and your face lit up instantly. Clapping your hands together, you grabbed your bag and checked your outfit one last time. You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Not too bad, right? Think he’ll like it?”

Riki froze again. The words caught in his throat, and for a second, he thought about telling you the truth. That you looked beautiful. That the thought of you being this excited about someone else was bothering him more than it should.

But instead, his pride got the better of him. “I—well—you look stupid,” he blurted out, his words harsher than he intended.

You rolled your eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Say whatever you want, Riki. Your opinion doesn’t matter tonight. I’ll text you the details tomorrow!”

And just like that, you were gone, your scent lingering in the room as you hurried past him and out the door.

Riki stood there, staring at the space you’d just left. His chest felt tight, an unfamiliar weight settling there as he replayed the moment in his head. What was this feeling? Why was his stomach twisting uncomfortably at the thought of you with someone else?

He swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair as he sat on your bed, shoulders slumping. Something was changing—something he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit yet. But as he sat there, his chest aching and his mind racing, one thing was becoming painfully clear.

He didn’t want to be the one you texted tomorrow to tell all the details about tonight. He wanted to be the one sitting across from you, the one you were so excited to see. And that realization scared him more than anything.

The next week was nothing short of torture for Riki. As if fate was playing a cruel joke, you and Sunghoon seemed to hit it off. You weren’t officially dating, but the two of you were in the so-called “talking stage.” It didn’t matter what stage it was—every second of it felt wrong to Riki.

Your usual library spot? You weren’t alone anymore. Sunghoon was always there, sitting across from you, leaning in too close, making you laugh in ways that Riki used to. Your desk? It was now stocked with your favorite snacks every morning—snacks that weren’t from Riki. And the final blow? You called Sunghoon by his nickname. His nickname. Riki clenched his fists every time he overheard it because not once in all the years he’d known you had you ever called him by a nickname.

What did Sunghoon have that Riki didn’t? He left snacks, visited you in the library, and called you nicknames. Riki did all of that first. So why wasn’t it enough?

For the first time, Riki felt you slipping away. And for the first time, he realized just how much you meant to him. But instead of confronting those feelings, he did what he always did best—he buried them.

The dismissal bell rang, and the school flooded with students rushing to leave. You were taking your time, slowly packing up while your music played softly in your headphones. A tap on your shoulder startled you, making you jump.

“Hey, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” Sunghoon said with an easy laugh.

You laughed back, pushing him playfully. “It’s fine. Yeah, I’m ready to go, but we should wait for Riki. He might need a ride home.”

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed, confused. “ni-ki? I thought he went on that date.”

Your hands paused mid-motion. “What?”

“Yeah, didn’t he tell you? He’s been talking about it all day.” Sunghoon said it so casually, but his words felt like a punch to your chest.

No. Riki hadn’t told you anything. And now that you thought about it, he’d been distant recently, skipping out on plans and barely texting back. But to go on a date and not even mention it? That wasn’t like him at all. A strange feeling bubbled in your chest—was it anxiety or something else entirely?

“Oh. I guess we should just go then,” you murmured, brushing past Sunghoon, who quickly followed after you.

It stayed like that for weeks. Riki kept avoiding you, making himself scarce. He didn’t leave snacks on your desk anymore, didn’t visit you in the library, and the only time you caught glimpses of him was when he was with her. That girl in his friend group—except now, his arm was around her shoulder.

Something about seeing them together twisted your stomach into knots. You couldn’t figure out what was going on. The absence of Nishimura Riki was a void you weren’t coping with well. You missed his annoying presence, his whining, his endless teasing. When had he become so important to you? And more importantly, why did it hurt so much to see him with someone else?

Days passed, your short fling with Sunghoon had come to an end. You and Sunghoon realized you weren’t a good match. It wasn’t dramatic; the spark just wasn’t there. You were relieved to have gained a friend, but even that small resolution didn’t fill the aching gap that Riki had left behind.

One day, as you trudged toward class, your thoughts heavy, you spotted him. For a moment, everything else faded. His uniform was crisp for once, his hair falling perfectly across his forehead, and his headphones hung loosely around his neck. You felt your heart skip, a familiar warmth creeping in. But then you saw her—the girl. She was right next to him, laughing as she leaned closer.

Riki caught your eyes, and for a moment, you swore you saw something flicker in his expression. But then he looked away, a fake smile plastered back on his face, and it felt like someone had ripped the air out of your lungs.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The sudden, painful realization hit you like a truck—you had fallen for Nishimura Riki. The cocky, annoying, rude, childish Riki. And you had realized it far too late.

Fueled by a sense of urgency, you stormed over to him. The closer you got, the more his eyes widened. His body tensed, his jaw clenching as if he knew what was coming.

“Riki, I need to talk to you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

He scoffed, avoiding your gaze as he shifted awkwardly. “What could we possibly need to talk about?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Oh, I don’t know. How about the fact that you’ve been ignoring me for weeks? How about the fact that you’ve completely shut me out?”

He let out a bitter laugh, his eyes now locking with yours. “Me? Ignoring you? Don’t make me laugh. Weren’t you the one who ditched me first? The second Sunghoon gave you a little attention, you were all over him like he was your whole world.”

You flinched at the venom in his words. “What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb!” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’ve been desperate for attention since day one. The moment someone else gave it to you, you didn’t even think twice about ditching me.”

The words stung more than you thought possible, and tears welled in your eyes. “Is that how you really see me? Someone who just begs for love and clings to anyone willing to give it? Or is that what you wanted me to be? Someone who would never leave you, so you could string me along whenever you wanted? Like you always have?”

His eyes softened, regret flickering through them, but before he could respond, the girl at his side stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm.

“Alright ni-ki.. I get it now.” You took that as your cue. Turning on your heel, you walked away without looking back, tears blurring your vision.

He gulped as he watched you walk away, Itching to chase after you. He never thought the loss of his first name coming from your lips would hurt this much. But it did.

For the nights after that, sleep was impossible. You lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying the confrontation with Riki over and over in your head. His words, his tone, the hurt that lingered in his eyes despite the venom in his voice—it was all too much. The raw pain left a lump in your throat, and the longer you thought about it, the more your chest ached.

You didn’t know how to move past it. Slowly, you started closing yourself off. The window you always left unlocked for Riki to climb through at night? It was shut now, the latch sealed as if closing it would somehow lock away the memories too.

Everything was weighing on you, dragging you deeper into a pit of emotions you couldn’t escape from. You needed something—anything to distract yourself. That’s when you remembered Sunghoon’s message from earlier.

Sunghoon:

Hey I know parties aren’t really your thing, but you can always come and stick with me tonight if you want? LMK.

You sighed, staring at the screen for what felt like forever before finally making a decision. Maybe this was what you needed, a change of scenery, a chance to forget for just one night. Without overthinking, you hit the call button.

He answered almost immediately, his voice casual but with a hint of surprise. “Hey, Y/N, what’s up?”

“Hey, Hoon,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “I’ll be on my way soon.”

When you arrived at the party, the air was buzzing with energy. Music thumped loudly in the background, lights flickered through the windows, and the yard was packed with groups of people chatting and laughing. You felt a pang of anxiety as you stepped inside, but it was quickly drowned out when Sunghoon spotted you from across the room.

“Y/N!” he called, weaving through the crowd with a grin. “You made it.”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“I’m glad you came,” he said, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people, and we can hang out.”

He led you through the party, his presence grounding you as you met new faces and settled into the environment. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you felt yourself relaxing. Laughing. Forgetting.

But that peace was short-lived.

Halfway through the night, as you stood by the kitchen with Sunghoon, sipping on a red solo cup which he’d handed you, your eyes landed on someone you weren’t prepared to see. Riki.

He was standing on the far side of the room, a red Solo cup in hand, his face half-hidden by the shadowy lighting. But it was unmistakably him. His posture was relaxed, but he wasn’t speaking as his group of friends talked. You looked around for the girl he grasped onto recently but she was nowhere in sight.

Your chest tightened, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. For a moment, all the progress you’d made to distract yourself unraveled. You tried to look away, but it was like your eyes were glued to him.

Sunghoon noticed immediately. “Hey,” he said gently, stepping in front of you to block your view. “You okay?”

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus on him. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not at all.

Riki hadn’t noticed you at first, too caught up in the chaos of the party. But when he finally glanced toward the kitchen, his heart stopped. There you were, standing next to Sunghoon, looking beautiful in a way that made his chest ache.

His grip on his cup tightened as he watched Sunghoon lean closer, whispering something that made you laugh softly. That laugh. The one he hadn’t heard in weeks. It was his laugh, the one you used to share with him.

“ni-ki,” a girl next to him said, tugging on his sleeve to grab his attention. But he barely heard her, his focus still glued to you.

“Excuse me for a second,” he mumbled, setting his cup down and stepping away from his group. He didn’t even know what he was doing. His feet carried him across the room before his brain had the chance to catch up.

You saw him coming before he even reached you. The sight of him walking toward you, his expression unreadable, made your stomach twist. Sunghoon glanced over his shoulder and immediately stiffened.

“Y/N,” Riki said, his voice low but firm as he stopped in front of you. His gaze flickered to Sunghoon briefly before settling back on you. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, your walls immediately going up. “What is there to talk about, ni-ki?”

“Please,” he said, his tone softer now, almost desperate wincing at the way you spit his nickname.

Sunghoon stepped closer, his presence protective. “Maybe now isn’t the time, Riki.”

Riki’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I wasn’t asking you, Sunghoon.”

Your heart was racing, caught between the two of them. The tension in the air was suffocating, and you didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” Sunghoon finally said, his voice steady but his eyes lingering on you for reassurance before he walked off.

Riki took a step closer, his hands buried in his pockets as he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “For everything.”

You swallowed hard, your emotions a whirlwind. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

“Then don’t say anything,” he said quickly. “Just… listen. Please.”

And so, for the first time in weeks, you let him talk.

He led you up the stairs, weaving through the chaos of the party. The bass of the music faded the further you went, replaced by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. He stopped in front of an empty room, pushing the door open and letting you step inside first. The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window. When he followed, the soft click of the door shutting behind him felt heavier than it should have.

You turned to face him, crossing your arms defensively. Your guard was up, and he could see it all over your face—your hurt, your anger, your confusion. He hated that he was the one who put that look in your eyes. How had things gotten so messed up? It reminded him of when you were younger, back in middle school, when he could never find the right words to say to you. But this time, it felt like so much more was at stake.

“Y/N…” His voice was quiet, laced with hesitation, his dark eyes glowing softly under the light. “I haven’t been real with you lately.”

You didn’t say anything, your glare sharp enough to cut through him.

“To be honest…” He froze, the words catching in his throat as his face heated up. He looked down, running a hand through his hair as if it would steady him. “Well, I’ve realized that you mean… a lot more to me than I thought.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat, but your defenses didn’t falter. “What are you trying to say?”

He sighed, taking a tentative step closer. “I’m saying I screwed up, okay? I’ve been jealous, selfish, and downright stupid. Seeing you with Sunghoon, thinking I might lose you… it made me realize something.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting, your breath catching as he took another step closer.

“I like you, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his confession. “No, scratch that—I’m in love with you. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I was too dumb to figure it out until I almost lost you.”

Your heart was pounding, the walls you’d built around yourself threatening to crumble. His words felt like a punch to the gut, but in the best way possible.

“Why now?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why did it take all of this for you to say something?”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his tone filled with regret. “Scared of ruining what we already had. But when I saw you with him, I realized I couldn’t just stand by and lose you. I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just… I need you to know how I feel.”

You stared at him, your emotions a whirlwind. Part of you wanted to stay mad, to keep your guard up and protect yourself. But the other part—the part that had always been soft for him—wanted to believe every word he was saying.

“Riki,” you started, your voice trembling. “You really hurt me, you know that, right?”

He nodded, guilt washing over his face. “I know, and I’ll spend however long it takes making it up to you pretty. I swear.”

There was a long silence as you studied him, searching his face for any sign that he wasn’t being genuine. But all you saw was raw vulnerability.

Finally, you sighed, stepping closer to him. “You’re such an idiot,” you muttered, but there was no malice in your voice.

He smiled softly, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. “I’ve been told.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached up, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist as you stood on your toes, and then, without another word, you kissed him.

It was soft at first, tentative, like the two of you were still testing the waters. But as the moment deepened, all the tension, all the weeks of hurt and miscommunication melted away. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, and you let yourself fall into him completely.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathless. He smiled at you, his usual cocky grin softened by the tenderness in his eyes.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Don’t push your luck.”

He laughed, the sound light and carefree, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Riki had known you since middle school. Back then, you were the girl who sat by the window during lunch, scribbling in your notebook or reading while everyone else was too busy trying to be cool. You were quiet but quick-witted, and for some reason, that always fascinated him.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he started noticing you more. Maybe it was the time you helped him with a history project because he procrastinated and would’ve failed without you, Maybe… It was the day you both ran into each other. Literally.

He hated admitting it, but he always found himself drawn to you. You weren’t flashy or loud like the other people in his life. You were just you—calm, focused, and, most of all, real.

But middle school Riki wasn’t great at handling feelings. Instead of being sweet to you, he’d tease you mercilessly, always looking for a reaction. He loved how your face would scrunch up when you were annoyed or how you’d mutter sarcastic comebacks under your breath, pretending you weren’t affected.

Even then, he knew you were different. Special. But he never let himself think too much about it.

As the years passed, his feelings only grew, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. By the time high school rolled around, you were still his constant. The one person he could always count on, the one who somehow understood him without needing a million words.

But somewhere along the way, he’d started feeling something heavier whenever he saw you. When you smiled at him, it felt like a spark ignited in his chest. When you scolded him for slacking off, he’d secretly enjoy the attention. And when you laughed—God, when you laughed—he swore it was his favorite sound in the world.

Still, he buried those feelings deep. He figured it was better to keep things the way they were. If he said something and you didn’t feel the same, he could lose you entirely, and the thought of that terrified him.

Then Sunghoon came into the picture. And for the first time, he realized he wasn’t the only one who could see how amazing you were. Watching you smile at someone else, laugh at someone else’s jokes, give someone else the attention that used to be his—it tore him apart. He felt like he was suffocating, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Even now, standing in that room with you after finally confessing everything, he couldn’t help but think back to all those moments from middle school. How blind had he been? How stupid to waste so much time pretending he didn’t care?

Looking at you now, your cheeks flushed, your eyes searching his face like you were trying to figure him out, he realized he didn’t want to hold back anymore.

He smiled, soft and genuine, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “I think I’ve been falling for you since middle school. I just didn’t know how to say it back then. Guess I’m still figuring it out now.”

You blinked at him, stunned for a moment, before a small laugh escaped your lips. “You’ve been a mess since middle school, Riki.”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin growing wider. “But I’m your mess now.”

And with that, he kissed you again, pouring years of unspoken feelings into the moment, knowing he’d finally found where he belonged—right there, with you.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #fanfic #fluff fic #enhypen angst #enhypen niki #ni ki enhypen #ni ki x reader #ni ki fluff #nishimura riki #niki x reader #ni ki

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 days ago

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Chapter 23: In Focus

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: more opportunities...

Welcome to the chapter 23 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Reader’s POV

The past few days had been… intense, to say the least. But somehow, through all the tension and heavy conversations, Paige and I had found our way back to each other. Things still weren’t perfect—life rarely was—but for the first time in what felt like weeks, we weren’t dancing around unspoken feelings or fears.

We decided to go on a date that night, something simple and lowkey, just the two of us. No basketball, no cameras, no looming WNBA talk—just Paige and me.

When she picked me up from my apartment, she was wearing her favorite UConn hoodie, her hair pulled back into a loose bun. “You ready?” she asked, flashing me that smile that always made my heart skip.

“Yeah,” I said, grabbing my bag and locking the door behind me.

Paige had planned for us to grab food at a small diner just outside of town. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was perfect. We slid into a booth near the back, away from prying eyes, and ordered burgers and milkshakes.

As we ate, I noticed how relaxed Paige seemed. She laughed more, teased me about my poor attempt at organizing fries into “photo-worthy” stacks, and even let me take a candid picture of her with whipped cream on her nose.

“This is going on my wall,” I joked, showing her the photo.

“Oh, great. Just what I need—my worst moment immortalized forever,” she teased, but her grin told me she didn’t mind.

“Your worst moment? Paige, please. You’ve had far worse,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Name one,” she challenged, leaning back with her arms crossed.

“When you tripped during warm-ups last week and tried to play it off like it didn’t happen.”

Her mouth fell open. “You saw that?”

“Paige, everyone saw that.”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands, but she was laughing, and that made my chest feel warm.

The next morning, I woke up to an email from the athletics department of a rival school—Jade’s school. They were asking if I’d be interested in covering their game against Lsu.

I hesitated. On one hand, it was an amazing opportunity to expand my portfolio, but on the other… it felt a little weird. I texted Jade to ask her opinion.

Jade: Do it! I wanna see you at the game. Plus, get that bag.

Her encouragement gave me the final push I needed. I replied to the athletics department, agreeing to cover the game—under one condition.

I’ll cover the game if you’re willing to pay my rate.

To my surprise, they agreed.

By the time game day rolled around, I was running on adrenaline. I finished my classes early, packed my camera gear, and made my way to the airport to catch the UConn team before their flight to USC.

When I arrived, the team was already gathering in the terminal. I spotted a few of the girls chatting near the boarding gate, but it was Paige who saw me first. Her face lit up when our eyes met, and before I knew it, she was walking toward me, her bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice warm and familiar.

“Hi,” I replied, feeling my heart race as she pulled me into a hug.

We lingered there for a moment longer than we probably should have. The team was right there, after all, and we weren’t exactly public yet. But in that moment, it was hard to care about anything else.

When we pulled back, our faces were inches apart. For a split second, it felt like the rest of the world faded away.

“Paige,” I whispered, glancing around nervously.

She sighed, stepping back reluctantly. “Right. Not public.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped at the thought of being caught.

“I’ll see you after the game, back home” she said, her voice low and teasing.

“Good luck,” I replied, watching as she turned to rejoin her teammates.

As the team started boarding, I pulled out my camera, snapping a few candid shots of the players as they walked onto the plane. Paige noticed, of course. She grinned and held her hood out to cover her face, her eyes peeking over the edge as if to tease me.

“Really?” I mouthed, lowering the camera.

She just shrugged, her smile never fading.

Later that night, as I reviewed the photos I’d taken, I couldn’t help but smile at the ones of Paige. She was beautiful, even in her goofiest moments, and I felt lucky to capture her in a way most people didn’t get to see.

When my phone buzzed with a text from her, I wasn’t surprised.

Paige: Did you get any good ones?

Me: Maybe.

Paige: Let me see.

Me: Only if you promise not to make fun of me.

Paige: No promises, ma.

I laughed, shaking my head. Despite everything we’d been through, we were still us—teasing, laughing, and figuring things out as we went. And for now, that was enough.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @sevyscoven , @authentic-girl03 , @starlighttsv .... (more to be added)

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mawlbone · 16 hours ago

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not on theme but what if......

pregnant ghost, pregnant nikto? pregnant krueger?????????

(i need them pregante)

WADDLE - GHOST, NIKTO, KREGUER

SNIPPET: A little peek into the domestic lives of these soldiers and their partners learning to adapt with a little one on the way.

[CW: amab reader, afab characters, and afab terminology usage, no reader’s pronouns mentioned, trans pregnancy, anxiety attacks, vomiting, cramps, slight rutting, and implied sex, and physical and mental health issues mention.]

[COMMENT: Thank you for the request! Sorry about writing this so late, I wish to do the shorter asks to clean up my drafts because I am mentally exhausted everyone. Also since I already wrote about pregnant Nikto in “Cracked Cradles”, I advise new readers to read that to get some context for his part. And special thanks to fish for giving me more brainrot for everyone. And there is angst because unfortunately these men are so miserable.]

Before the deep dive, there will be a lot of personal headcanons and thoughts given to each character that I will discuss before divulging into the ask to give more context as to how they will act during pregnancy in the order above. But I will TRY to keep it short and do a whole post about it later to save you the trouble! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

For all what is considered “Simon” or “Ghost”, I wholeheartedly believe at the end of the day, he’s the kindest character in COD because of his upbringing and how he treats people he feels personally responsible for.

If you look back in the Modern Warfare 2: Ghost “Dead Life”, a lot of details are dropped of his childhood such as his father’s abuse, Tommy’s bullying and drug addiction later in life, and how it was only really having his mother defending him from everyone else. In this type of environment, it’s quite easy, hell even understandable for someone to become resentful and lash out. I won’t blame him if one of his main reasons to joining the Air Force was to escape the house once he was old enough.

But despite having to come home to his mother’s distress after his service to the news of Tommy’s newfound drug addiction and stealing to further fund it… He decides to take a long break and still decide to take care of the boy, now man that once too contributed to his troubles along with his father and get Tommy help and kick his father out of the house and declare he’ll be the one taking responsibility for them now as simply Simon.

He’s rational, he understands that his father is the root of everyone’s troubles such as introducing Tommy to drugs in the first place and constantly distressing his mother with his infidelity. And people may think this show of selflessness is only in 09’ Ghost but even 22’ Ghost, he is quite caring such as constantly joking with Soap with his dry ass humor to lighten up the tension during operations. Even dropping his professionalism when worrying about his sergeant during that specific scene when Soap collapses and didn’t hear a response from him with such a soft tone. All of that as if the nickname, “Johnny” wasn’t enough haha as Ghost too. Simon’s kindness never left him even after all his trauma.

He’s such a sweet boy.

Nikto and Krueger, while there is not a lot of detail for both of them canonically, I cry miserably at this, I do imagine both of them led quite lonely childhoods and joined armed service to find some purpose in their life. If not, possibly having some passive suicidal behaviors that never got really checked for their psych evaluation because the higher ups just need bodies at the end of the day to train, not humans.

Look, Nikto is considered still so useful and effective that the bosses declare him too valuable to waste which is scary to think about, so I won’t be surprised if Kreuger has some issues of his own that he keeps covered underneath that mask of his. I’ll write a whole analysis for them later too like Simon’s because I love them too! But this is already getting too long, so hope you enjoy domestic life with them.

Ghost

Being with Ghost means that you will have to deal with death constantly at the steps of your door with the life he leads. So he will be the type of person who absolutely will refuse to get pregnant unless he’s retired or has some 30 step plan in place to keep himself safe during it. Listen, he’s older and more experienced now, therefore that means he made a lot of new enemies and he already lost his family once, please don’t make him go through it again with you.

Though it doesn’t stop him from contemplating the family life with you still whenever he sees a family on the streets while you’re out on a walk together, it makes not exactly bitter, but somber if more so than anything wondering if he’s depriving you of that type of joy. He really likes his job, it practically defines him but staying at home and having a family again sounds a bit too good for now.

When he does get pregnant eventually after years of reassurance from you and preparation with the help of Price and Laswell to help him conceal his identity even further and moving somewhere quiet, Ghost will desperately try to be at peace throughout the duration of his pregnancy because he doesn’t want the baby to suffer from all his mood swings, and have issues because of all his hormones screwing with him.

Alongside this point, I do think the Rileys has a history of mental troubles and the last thing Ghost will want is to carry it down further to his baby. It’s not exactly that he’ll hate his child or his late family if they do inherit it but he will rather they led a much more happier life than he did without feeling like a burden all because he was greedy to have a family again.

He’ll heavily latch himself onto you whenever a nasty thought keeps cracking against his head. Getting all insecure and dealing with horrible intrusive thoughts wondering if he’ll repeat his father’s cycle of abuse onto his baby, it doesn’t help that he already looks so much like him. He will probably beg the baby to look more like you than him because the thought of seeing a resemblance to younger him makes him ill enough to lose any appetite for the rest of the day.

But months of watching you kissing and talking to the bump all while praising him for practically just existing makes his heart feel lighter about the matter when you stroke over his stretched skin and tell him how gorgeous he is still. His favorite however, that makes his heart unbearably warm is when he wakes up in the morning to see your sleepy head pressed against his tummy cuddling into the baby unconscious every time without fail. He doesn’t tell you about the countless photos he took of that moment with the golden light bathing you in warmth and illuminating that shiny ring on your finger.

During the pregnancy phase, you’ll have to move your shared bed to the corner of the room so he can feel safe while sleeping with the wall and you pressed again him, protecting and keeping the baby and him warm from the outside world. One of the many little things you had prepared for him to sooth his worries and insomnia, and when it gets so bad due to your husband’s anxiety, you’ll resort to taking Ghost into the car and driving endlessly throughout the night on long roads and around neighborhoods until the ride lulls him back to the gentle embrace of sleep fogs over his eyes once more. A large helping of sticky toffee pudding also gets him at ease enough to rest happily with how much he been craving sweets lately to end off dinner.

He becomes much more relaxed as he gets further along his pregnancy after his mind becomes more secure, just ditching the pants and wearing loose shorts and shirts around the house because he had enough dealing with soiled clothes due to his leaky chest and numerous bathroom runs because the child keeps kicking onto his bladder to annoy him for not giving her enough attention or when they just miss you too.

So you’ll have to deal with grumpy Ghost who become more needy and squirming to fit underneath your shirt to feel you skin to skin with him, badgering you to help him with his aches because it’s too uncomfortable and he’s tired! He becomes much more playful and all smiles when you decide to work from home so you can watch over him during the last few weeks until his due date. Long slow days where you get to see him sleep more and become louder, already preparing dad jokes and all that jazz.

But it’ll only be his misfortune one day when he laughed too hard at his own lame joke, leading his water to suddenly burst like a broken dam as you watched in pure dismay, as you lead him out the door with the bags to the base’s hospital with your now sheepish husband.

Nikto

Personally, Nikto in my interpretation has endometriosis and therefore has much more issues with getting pregnant in the first place with the additional pain onto him. So in “Crackled Cradles”, it was basically luck that he was able to get his daughter in the first place with more than enough affection to heal his pain away with the amount of pampering he gotten while pregnant.

With the newest addition in the family now, he’s perfectly content with you being out of his sight while he’s bonding with his baby and doing some housekeeping when you’re stuck in your home office for hours on end, just crying to yourself silently that you cannot be with Nikto despite only being a few rooms away because you have deadlines to meet. But hearing the happy cries and the warm raspy voice of your precious family just outside your door motivates you enough to continue on, even if you have to endure the droning old instructions that your superiors have to repeat continuously.

Days where he peeks into your office to drop off lunch and for some kisses or hearing your daughter crashing in on her walker babbling for some attention from you too, only for her to be dragged back outside as her protests fade away by Nikto’s hand dragging her car back outside.

Even with the abundance of affection, that doesn’t stop him from constantly pawing at your pants though as he whines and demands for another baby from you. You’ll find him begging, all teary eyed for one during his birthdays, anniversaries and even during the holidays because he wants more little you’s running around the cottage. It makes you sigh at his baby fever, especially when it gets the worst during his periods as he drag his bottom against your thigh to relieve his aches, trying to tempt you into knocking him up again, praying for hopefully more than one this time. He became so greedy and it’s your fault that he became like this after keeping him all sweet and warm, so take responsibility why don’t you?

If you wish to be mean to him, you can put on a condom on last minute to ease his aches and watch him sob when he feels rubber instead of you as he curses you for being to horrible to him. Thrashing and scratching up your back because while you’re relieving all of his bad aches, he truly wants another baby so he doesn’t get lonely too once you two grow old, he doesn’t like the idea of an empty nest in the next few decades.

So you shouldn’t be surprised the next night after tucking your daughter to sleep when you have to face your dear husband sitting atop of your bed, glaring at you to kill you twice before you turn your head to see his knife embedded into the empty box of condoms besides him. “Do it properly this time”, you’ll hear him growl as you feel cold sweat begin to drip down your back. It’s not exactly that you wanted to be mean to him, it’s that you will rather save him from the heartache since he’s already at a high risk during pregnancy. But you feel that’s too late to say as you watch Nikto begin to stalk towards you.

It’ll only be a few months later when you are met with a positive pregnancy test in your hand with Nikto with a smile so smug, he practically looks like the cat that ate the canary. You should had already learned to never mess with a dedicated soldier, especially if you are married to one. You don’t exactly have the heart to scold him gently that day for risking his health once again when he’s beaming so brightly at his bump once again.

You decide to hold it in and now just enjoy watching your daughter sleep in between her father’s legs for nap time, trying her best to lay her head as light as possible on her sibling when you came out of your office to check up on them, worried about the long silence for too long before joining their cuddle pile. You’ll take any chance for them to rest, as you gathered more cushions surround them as you continuously had to guide Nikto to go nap as well after spending too much time making matching clothes for the baby already.

Though his skin is already marred with heavy scars from the torture he had experienced, it’s not exactly he’s insecure of them much anymore with the new stretch marks littering about his arms and thighs after his first pregnancy when you made no shame in showing your appreciating by smoothing over the leftover flap of his stomach and helping him bathe and taking over his scarred skin. It makes him feel satisfied with this new life, even if he’s reduced to be more “harmless” now.

He doesn’t get what you mean when you say he looks “beautiful” when he feels all sweaty and disgusting from the labors of pain, but all that matters is the opinions of his children and you in his life, so he’s quite content even if it gets a bit busy and you have to work overtime sometimes to free your weekends to spend time with them, but life is good. He’ll have to get a bigger bed soon to fit everyone later and perhaps do some renovations on the cottage later.

Kreuger

For all what is known and isn’t known about the ever changing operator, under cold lights and the sturdiness of his form, he’s ever so reflective in the way those tiny green toy soldiers. You’ll watch dark beady eyes gaze upon you when he comes crashing into your clinic. And there you’ll become fascinated with the way his back muscles fold under your hands like cheap plastic. There’s no label for this, that’s just how it works between you, him, and the silence that envelopes you all into nothingness in the long quiet. So as long as no one knows what happens behind the closed doors of your office, this standstill will continue between you and him. Even when the heat becomes unbearably nauseating when teeth meet flesh.

It’s a familiar tango, there’s no rush for you to evade the cloak he surrounds himself with. Always rummaging through your file cabinets to help himself to your snacks, you had since learned to order more of his favorites for him. Greedy bastard… He’s cute enough to get away with it when he sleeps so soundly atop of you, with his head buried within your neck or in one of the clinic’s bed while you work. But you had been getting a bit worried with how he’ll been more sleepier nowadays. You’ll get an answer a few days later when you hear the familiar sounds of boots hitting tiles, only to be jolted at your disgruntled partner staring at you before sliding the positive test onto your desk.

There’s very little things that Kreuger can keep himself attached to. Constantly switching jobs and names entirely, except for skin and bones. It’s a shame that he keeps resting from his loneliness, he rather not open himself up for a knife to be rammed inside his chest. So forgive him if he’s a bit awkward, foolish at worst with how he tries to talk without sounding like an automated machine. He rather not leave himself all exposed but years of exposure under your hands left him trusting enough to tell you. If he wasn’t, he would’ve ran away long ago.

Arrangements had to be made immediately for him as he heavily insisted on keeping his career and the baby, but it’s fine, you had already understood this long ago when he first begin crashing into your life. Kreuger had always been adamant on having the freedom to move around, so if anything, it’s quite nice to see him more standstill if anything, all curled up and hogging the sheets. You’ll deal with the earful from your superiors later for taking him off the field for a bit.

And with how elusive Krueger is, it shouldn’t be a surprise that his pregnancy is too a mystery as you held his practically nonexistent bump. Feeling over the alabaster skin, you’ll move your hands to his newly formed love handles instead and squish the side of your hips as he complains about how much your child had been squeezing itself into the back of his stomach and them giving him back pains. You’ll laugh though when you gently poke the child to feel them and watch as they push against your hand all annoyed for bothering them. Before Kreuger deciding to grab your own to hold instead.

He’ll heavily complain about how clumsy he feels nowadays, unlike his agileness before, he more or less been could be taken as a penguin on olive oil with how much he has to hold himself onto you now. It makes him unbearably angry sometimes with how bad his legs cramp up and you’re not there to hold him. He doesn’t like anyone else touching him and he already shuns away from most of the base anyways, thankfully his silence is enough to scare most people off anyways. So you’ll try your best to massage his aches away and help him tidy up his scruff when he becomes too tired to do anything.

Eventually when he reaches his third trimester, you relocated him back to your home with him to be more comfortably situated. No longer is he confined to the cafeteria’s slop or your cabinet to fulfill his strange addictions. Here in your kitchen, he can thrive on making his fancy little sandwiches with all types of breads, cheeses, and jams filling up your cabinets now. And other small finger foods like hard pretzels to eat throughout the day. He would rather not deal with the nausea from a full stomach nowadays. But the child seems to be delighted by the taste of apple juice nowadays as Kreuger bemoans about how they are the most active whenever he’s drunk some to satisfy his cravings and kicking him excitedly before resorting back to his spine out of all places.

Desperately needs some quiet or ambient music playing whenever he goes because he doesn’t look the fogginess of his brain screwing with him and despises vomiting, so often you’ll have some gum of smelling salts for him to cool down. It leaves him a little too raw for him to deal on a regular basis. You regularly go on your knees to massage his swollen feet and put socks on for him when he cannot anymore.

While Kreuger huffs and puffs all he wants about the pain, you’ll hear him speak little endearments to the child and catch him sleeping outside with a blanket over his stomach in a porch’s chair, letting the cool evening breeze rock him to sleep. You decide to make yourself cozy and settle beside him in another chair, watching how soften his face had become without the harsh lines of anger and that net casting his face into obscurity. His face become more rounded now, sharp lines turned puffy from sleep and more weight holding onto him. He’s more human than he ever been, no longer that statuesque toy soldier you once knew before. The moment would had been endearing if it wasn’t for Kreuger’s noisy snoring scaring away the birds.

Even with a few rough patches here and there, you’ll watch Kreuger pace around the house carefully as he holds his bump and asking you to rearrange the nursery around to fit his preference. With full drawers and the sight of your sleepy husband partaking in this joy of picking out what he wishes is peaceful. You’ll have to hire someone to help you both for the birth later with how Kreuger’s lack of identity will cause trouble for the baby later, but in the present moment, you’ll simply partake in watching your man trying to choose between the two different floral sheets to align the crib with.

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miss-nandini · 1 day ago

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hey it’s me again can I get a Mirage x reader flirting one shot with the reader making Mirage blush please 🙏

A/N: This was such a treat! Hope you like it!

Just You Wait, Darling (Mirage x Reader)

It all started when he came back to you with sand and grasses all over him. What the heck happened? When you enquired he said that he was unlucky enough to run into a Decepticon.

You sighed. Run-ins with the Decepticons were happening so often that it was concerning. But again, there was nothing you could do about it. So, you did what you do every single time— wash his entire form and sigh at his attempts at rizzing you up.

"You know (Y/N), I reallyyy love it when you give me so much attention. You look so cute, trying to focus on your work and all that."

You coughed, trying to mask your embarrassment. Must he say such things with that look in his eyes? It makes you feel things you shouldn't. Mischievous little shit.

"Aww don't hide your smile like that~"

Okay, that's it. You thought. You needed to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"How can I not Mirage? When you are so... magnificent and handsome?"

And just like that, he shut his mouth. You smirked, knowing that you had managed to catch him off-guard with your sudden comment.

"Oh uhm..." Mirage tried to find words. It is usually him who compliments you and tries to flirt with you. You never say such things to him. A part of him knows you are playing with him but that knowledge doesn't stop him from feeling a little flustered.

"What? You don't believe me? Look at you! You are gorgeous, your alt mode is gorgeous! You are strong, kind and always so nice to me! Anyone with eyes can notice that!"

Your smirk widened, noticing that he was having trouble looking at you straight.

"N-now (Y/N), do-don't go around saying such things so openly. A guy o-or a bot might get the wrong idea..." He stammered, a blue hue rising to his face.

"But.. it's true!" You laughed "Jokes aside Mirage, I told you the truth."

You really were telling the truth. He might be annoying at times, but he still means a lot to you. You just got the perfect opportunity to give him a hint, didn't you?

"You really are something else..."

He chuckled lightly, the blue hue darkening in his faceplate. There was a different kind of warmth in his optics you hadn't seen before. It made your own heart flutter.

...You definitely liked seeing Mirage blush. You will just have to do it more often. You thought with a smile as you finished cleaning him up.

#transformers #transformers imagine #transformers x reader #transformers mirage #transformers mirage x reader #mirage x reader #transformers fanfiction #mirage

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setmeatopthepyre · 2 days ago

Text

moodboard: antarct-fic [wip]

tagged by @beanarie <3 this was so much fun to do!

rules: Either: choose one of your published fics (or a WIP if you'd prefer), create a moodboard for it and share it along with a snippet. Or: Create a moodboard for your fave episode of the show, fave character, or a fic someone else has written that you love, and share it with some sentences about why it's a fave! (and tag people!)

It starts as a joke, is the thing. More accurately, it starts with Lucy dragging him to a cocktail bar, and Tommy moping into his third Sidecar (“Please tell me that’s some sort of gay army euphemism”) while he contemplates, for the millionth time, calling Evan. “So.” Lucy covers his phone with a menu. “Holiday plans?” “Does researching ‘most remote places on earth to wallow’ count?” She sips her old fashioned thoughtfully. “Well, if you really wanna get out of cell range, my buddy says they always need pilots in Antarctica.” It’s a joke. No one spontaneously decides to spend the holidays at the South pole. Two weeks later, his paperwork is filed and he’s on his way.

[read more in my antarct-fic tag]

tagging: @sugarpenchant @leashybebes @epiphainie @ambernotember @trombonechurchill

moodboard text snippets are from an absolutely amazing (and educational and funny) polar manual from 1965 I found this pdf of. highly recommend skimming through it. how else will you learn how much milk is in a dead walrus? / nearly all photos from the antarctic sun

#I spent way too long on this but I had fun #tomorrow-me will hopefully still think it was worth it lmao #but i'm happy #also for real that polar manual is an absolute treasure trove #might make a separate post to share highlights at one point #it is FASCINATING #bucktommy fic #tag game #bucktommy #antarct-fic #cluttering up the tag but my moodboard should be in there sooo #moodboards #911 fic

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wowzees · 2 days ago

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no matter what

lando norris x reader

y/n is not used!

a/n: this is a short story from uni- i have to make a collection of them

the one i posted earlier was also one, but these have not recived feedback from my professer or have been majorly edited. enjoy!

High school felt like the longest four years of my life. Days blurred into each other, routines became a way of life, and I thought I had everything figured out. I was one of those kids who had his group of friends, the sport he played, and the classes he took, all laid out in a neat, predictable order. Nothing ever really changed.

And then, there was her.

She’d been there from the start. The girl who wasn’t just a friend,she was something more, though I never said it out loud. We’d grown up together, laughed at the same inside jokes, gotten in trouble for the same stupid things. She knew me better than anyone else, maybe even better than I knew myself. She was the one I could count on for anything. She was the one who could make me laugh on days when nothing felt right. When life got heavy, when there was uncertainty about my future, she was the one I turned to. And I thought that would never change. Or maybe I didn’t think about it at all. Why would I need to? She was always there, like a constant in my life, something I could rely on. But looking back, I see the warning signs. Small things that I chose not to notice.

At first, it was little things— how she stopped coming to my house after school everyday. How she stopped calling me for big milestones. It’s easy to ignore changes like that. Until they hit you all at once. And then, it was too late.

Without her presence, I started hanging out with the kids from my soccer team more, and more. I told them about all my problems with her. Their solution? They wanted me to prank her. I wanted to fit in. So, I agreed.

Maybe I was too busy with soccer, or maybe I just took her for granted. But somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing her the way I always had. I saw how my actions hurt her. But, somewhere along the way i stopped seeing that. I stopped seeing how my actions hurt her.

But I didn’t think much about it at the time. After all, things had always worked themselves out between us, right? I guess I never thought I’d lose her, guess I thought that she’d always be there.

How wrong I was.

And seeing her now after graduation, getting ready to go to college and saying goodbye to friends for one last time, I can't help but remember a time when things were so much simpler.

Age, 7. Grade, 2

“Lan, wait up” she yelled, peddling her feet. I slowed my bike down and turned to face her.

“Hurry up! You're being slow.” she peddled faster. Too fast. I watched in slow motion as she rides over a rock, flies through the air as if it’s molasses, then falls in what seems the same way a feather falls through the air. Then promptly crashes into a trashcan, scattering trash all around and on top of her.

I quickly stopped my bike and ran to her. She was sitting there, covered in trash from the trash can, pouting. As I stood over her, and saw her covered in trash, I almost laughed. “Stop! It’s really not funny” she sniffled, though she now seemed a little happier.

“I've bin waiting for this to happen” I joke, hoping to make her laugh.

“It's really not that funny” she snorts while giggling.

“Yeah, well you’re still laughing” I argue. As she struggles to her feet, I realize I should probably help her. As I move to put her arm around my shoulder, she shoves me off.

“I don't need your help, butthead” she says, crossing her arms and stares at me with her lips pursed.

“Sorry, man, chill.” I say, not really understanding why she didn't want help.

“I got worse when I first started playing volleyball, it's just a little scrape on my knee. It’ll heal”

"Ok "I mumbled, feeling a little stupid.

As we walked home, we talked about silly things, like how funny she looked covered in trash, or about the people we didn't like at school. Before we parted ways, she threw her arms around me and pressed a quick, fleeting kiss that was gone as soon as it started to my cheek. “Bye Lando! I'll see you tomorrow at school!” she said over her shoulder as she ran home.

“Bye” I yell, after she had already disappeared into the house, my cheeks still red.

She had always been brave in her own way. Whether it was running into a trash can then getting back up with a skinned knee and no tears, or hiding her fears behind that stubborn smile of hers, she never changed. She was always the same, brave girl I had known since I was a kid. I wish I had known then how much that bravery would change the course of our friendship.

Age, 12 Grade 7.

The ferris wheel creaked more and more the higher up it went, carrying us higher, and higher into the night sky. Below we could see the rest of the fair, all the people enjoying themselves just like we are.

Her posture was slumped, and she was practically shaking on the little metal bench that lines the side of the carriage.

“Are you scared?” I ask. This wasn't a very normal occurrence, and I was honestly a little surprised.

“What? Me? No! Of course not. I don't get scared” she responded, her voice shaky, and honestly not very convincing.

“Hey, it's okay if you are scared. We all have things we are scared of; it doesn't make you weak.” I say in a soft tone, understanding when to tease and when to be comforting.

“I'm not scared.”

“Yeah? Good, me neither. Honestly, it's really nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice being up here.”

“I guess it is pretty nice.”

“It's really pretty,” I say with a sigh.

“It is,” she responds with an airy voice.

Little did I know that while I was staring at the sky, she was looking at me.

Ever since that night on the ferris wheel, I had developed a liking for stars. She learned more about stars for me, though I didn't know that then. I thought it was just a coincidence, not something carefully planned. Ever since then, we would spend nights under the stars together, gazing upwards.

Age, 15. Grade 9.

“And that one’s named Altair” she said, pointing up at the brightest star in the sky.

“How do you know this?” I ask while chuckling.

“I learned it when I was in 8th grade for my science fair project. I won.”

“I know, you’ve only told me like a million times.”

“I have not!”

“Uh, yes you have.”

“Excuse yo- wow, it's like, really cold.”

“Here,” I say, shrugging my sweatshirt off. “Take it.”

“No, it's fine really. I don't need it, I’m fine.”

“If you don't take it, I’m actually gonna go insane!”

“Fine” she huffed, sticking her tongue out at me. “Thank you.” she mumbled.

“You're welcome.”

“Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“We'll always be best friends, right?”

“Of course we will. No matter what.”

“No matter what.”

Back then, No matter what seemed like an easy promise to keep. Before our future became closer and closer, before I found out she would be going to Yale. No matter what seemed like an easy promise to keep under the soft lighting of the stars, but under the fluorescent lights in the highschool hallways, and the pressure from the guys, the promise broke apart.

“Hey Lan!” she exclaims, coming up to me “Hey,” I respond. “Where are your glasses?” I ask. She has always loved her glasses. She always said it gave her more personality, though I disagree. She has plenty of personality already.

“Oh, I just switched to contacts for volleyball! It's too impractical to have to play without being able to see, ya know? Do you like them?” I actually think that she looks stunning with or without glasses, but since my friends from the soccer team are with me, I just say

“ I dunno man, it kinda makes your eyes look too close together.” I feel absolutely terrible as I practically see her deflate. Her normally radiant smile disappears, her shoulders begin to tremble, and her eyes go glassy. At first, she didn't say anything. I could practically see her brain thinking of ways to respond. She was trying to act relaxed about it, but I knew her well. She doesn't do relaxed about these types of things.

I hear the boys snickering from behind me, making stupid comments about how “he is so right” and “how can she not see that herself?” and “why does she talk so much?”. I'm actually about to turn around and tell them to shut up, and that I am the only one allowed to tease her like that, but before I can, she says something.

“Oh. Well, uh, I should be going to class. I'll see you later, Lando,” she mumbles. Her normally confident posture seemed impossibly timid and shy. Her posture didn't say ‘see you later’. It said ‘leave me alone’.

While she walked down the hallway, the only thing I could focus on was the fact that she didn't call me Lan .

The next few days, I tried finding her, though she kept on avoiding me. Finally, I found her sitting outside at the tables, eating her lunch alone.

“Hey” I greet softly, sitting down at the table outside.

“What do you want?” she responded, her tone sharp. She was wearing her glasses again.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said on Tuesday.” I say, barely audible.

“If you're going to say something, say it louder.”

“I wanted to apologize for what I said.”

“Do you? Do you really? Or is this just another sick prank you and your friends are playing on me, huh? I stood there and took it in tenth grade, when you made fun of my brother, who, by the way looks up to you, in the cafeteria. I stood there and took it in eleventh grade when you texted everyone from my phone things that I would never, ever say about someone and especially TO someone, posted things on instagram that I would NEVER post, and then humiliated me by making me think that you were seriously hurt, then jump up and say “it's a prank” after i started crying? I even stood there and took it when you told me that my eyes were too close together! The one thing you know I'm insecure about, and you make fun of it? You’ve changed Lando! You and your stupid friends have made high school horrible for me! And even though you've been rude, and you've been mean, and you've in general been a nightmare to be around, I'm still in love with you, and I have been for the last 10 years! And I'm done with this! I will not, will not sit here and let you bully me because I’m your ‘best friend’! I stayed your friend because I thought you would notice me! I thought you would realize, but you didn't! And I’m done waiting, okay? I’m done. Bye, Lando.”

By now, she was crying. Before I could respond to her and apologize, I hear laughing and jeering coming from behind me. I turn around and march over to where the boys are standing. They chuckle upon seeing me, and I absolutely lose it.

“Are you guys actually stupid? You made me lose the most important thing in my life, because you ‘thought it would be funny’? She is worth more than you guys will ever be. She was a better friend, a better athlete, but most importantly, a better person than you guys! I’m done with y’all.”

I turn back to where she was standing, but she's not there anymore.

The next few days, I look for her. I see her a couple of times, but she always manages to avoid me.

One night, as I’m packing for college, I hear someone knocking on the front door.

I run down the stairs, thinking it’s the pizza I ordered for me and my sister, but it’s not. It’s her.

“Uhm, I just wanted to return this.” she says, handing me my sweatshirt that i gave to her 3 years ago. “I just thought I should return it before I leave for Yale.”

“When do you leave?” I ask, fearing the answer.

“Tomorrow.”

The second I hear that word, my world stops. I hazily thank her for bringing the sweatshirt back, then slam the door. I vaguely remember stumbling up the stairs, and sitting down on my bed, my mind running a thousand miles a minute.

I’m going to have to live without the person who was there for me at every problem, at every bad game, at every milestone in my life, and I lost her because of my own mistakes. I lost her because I let those stupid kids influence my decisions. I lost her because I didn't know how to communicate my feelings. And now, I’ll never get her back.

I was right. I never got her back. And deep down inside, I knew I was never going to get her back. I knew this when I met Emma. I knew this when I proposed to Emma. I knew this when I invited her to our wedding. But that truly, did not prepare me for when I saw her.

“And do you, Lando Norris, take Emma Sand to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish till death do you part? ” asked the priest, his voice echoing through the church that held all of our friends and loved ones.

“ I do.”

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see her, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. After years of knowing her, I could almost hear her thinking ‘that should have been me.’

And I feel horrible and disgusting and gross thinking this on my wedding day, but I'm inclined to agree. It should have been her. And it would have been, if not for my own stupidity.

And seeing her, brought me right back to all those years ago. And made me wonder; what happened to ‘no matter what.’

#f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris angst #f1 angst

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