#so I am happy to fill in the blanks myself

[seagreenstardust]

No canon ships means post-canon is anyone’s game

[flwrstqr]

— HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS ! an advice writer, you, starts on a bold new project for an article aiming to explain how to drive a man away in just 10 days. your editor is supports, so you set out to find a suitable man for her experiment. meanwhile, executive heeseung is equally confident in his ability to make any woman fall in love with him within 10 days. when you and heeseung cross paths, things slightly go off plan.

THE CAST heeseung x writer! fem reader

GENRE s2l, fluff, comedy, romance

WORD COUNT 5k+

WARNINGS parties, kissing, small grammar errors, yn kind of playing with heeseung at first, swearing, angst, crying

DANi NOTEZ hii this is for my liz's new event!!! this i based the rom com, how to lose a guy in 10 days. i kind of changed up scenes but the main idea and plot is based on the iconic 2000s movie. i've been writing this for abt 2-3 days? i thought it was good enough for liz' event so here i am. anyways i hope u enjoy it ><

BEING A WRITER HAS BEEN YOUR NUMBER ONE GOAL EVER SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. Now, at age 23, you were finally standing at the gates of the biggest magazine company ever. The sight alone sent chills down your spine, filling you with exhilaration.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The bustling activity, the hum of the printer, and the aroma of bitter coffee greeted you. You made your way to the elevator and anxiously pressed the button for the 17th floor.

Upon arrival, you awkwardly walked into the office. Your heart was pounding, and your knees were slightly shaking. You approached the manager's office and opened the door, finding yourself sitting in front of your section's main manager.

"YN LN?" the woman asked.

"Yes, ma'am," you replied stiffly, nerves evident in your voice.

"Welcome to our magazine company," she greeted, shaking your sweaty hand.

"Thank you," you responded with your usual sweet smile.

"Well, why don't you get to work?" she laughed. Your eyes widened, and you quickly stammered an apology, rushing to find your new desk and start brainstorming ideas.

For nearly two hours, you gazed out the window, feeling empty. No ideas were coming to you. It always seemed that the best ideas came at the worst times, and now, when you needed them most, your mind was blank.

"YN, just think…" you whispered to yourself, running your fingers through your hair. You glanced around the office, hoping for inspiration. Your eyes settled on a young man and woman engaged in a flirtatious conversation. Watching them smile and laugh together made you wonder if they were a couple or just interested in each other. (happy couples really did give you an ick.)

Then, it happened. The perfect idea. An idea that could possibly get you promoted and shake the whole world.

Quickly scribbling on your paper, the title snapped into your mind: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING, how do you even lose a guy in 10 days? Easy—just find a guy and drive him away by doing stereotypical “girl things.” Sounds like a piece of cake, right?

“YN, that is one of the BEST ideas I’ve ever heard!” your editor, Yeseo, exclaims.

“Really?” you ask, eagerly smiling.

“It’s perfect! It would catch everyone’s attention!” Yeseo explains, her eyes lighting up as she imagines the situation.

“So, how are you going to write this?” Yeseo raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll try it out myself and document my experiences. That way, it’s more authentic,” you shrug.

“That sounds great. Just journal your experiences each day,” Yeseo nods, agreeing with your plan. “I’m so excited to see the final product, YN. Email me once you’re finished, and we’ll get it published within weeks.”

You give her a quick smile before leaving her office, ready to start your new adventure.

PARTIES. USUALLY ONE OF THE THINGS YOU ABSOLUTELY HATED. The noise of couples kissing, people screaming, and music blasting through the speakers was just not your thing. The way sweaty bodies brush against each other as they chug alcohol. Parties are truly the thing you hate the most.

“So you’re telling me your new article for the magazine is about how to get a boy to dump you in 10 days?” Karina raised her eyebrow.

“In other words, yes,” you smiled. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Possibly it not working,” Giselle interjected.

“Well, it will. I’ve planned the whole thing,” you grinned with a hint of pride. “My editor was impressed. I’m sure it’ll work.”

“If you say so,” Karina laughed at your confidence.

“So basically, YN will get a boyfriend before me?” Ningning asked, shocked.

“Well, he’s not gonna be my boyfriend. He’s more like a test,” you replied uncertainty. As you continued to explain your plan, you felt a gaze fixed on you from across the room.

A FEW MINUTES BEFORE

“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend,” Jake joked.

“I can,” Heeseung rolled his eyes.

“Wanna bet on it, then?” Jake's eyes glinted with playfulness.

“Deal,” Heeseung confirmed.

“If you get that girl over there as your girlfriend, then I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” Jake smirked, pointing at you across the room.

“Her?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow as he checked you out. You were pretty to his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to approach you.

“Yup, her,” Jake grinned.

“Deal, I’ll have her in my arms within a day,” Heeseung winked before walking over to ask for your number.

NOW

“No way my plan will fail–” your voice stopped as Heeseung approached, tapping your shoulder lightly.

“Hi,” he greeted you with a welcoming smile.

“Uh, hi?” you replied, confused.

“You’re kind of cute. Can I get your number?” Heeseung asked, the words not quite rolling off his tongue as he had never done this before.

Your cheeks burned slightly as you stared. “Sure?” He was quite cute, with his sweet smile and perfectly styled hair. You gave him your number, and he mentioned he would text you later before walking off.

“YN, you know what that means?” Giselle raised her eyebrow.

“Huh?” you looked confused.

“You can use him as your test,” Winter recalled. Your eyes then widened. Perfect! He would be the perfect subject for your new article. Now, how were you going to make him yours?

YOU SIT ON YOUR BED, staring at your phone, debating whether to text Heeseung first. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Finally, you take a deep breath and type out a message.

YN: Hi, it’s YN. We met at the party earlier, you asked for my number. :)

You hit send and immediately feel a rush of anxiety. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he thinks you’re weird? You try to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, but the minutes feel like hours. Suddenly, your phone buzzes.

Heeseung: Hey, of course I remember. How's your night going? 

YN: It’s going good, just relaxing now. How about you?

Heeseung: Same here. Just got home. That party was a bit too much for me, tbh

You smile, feeling a little more at ease.

YN: Agreed, not rlly a party person lmao

Heeseung: Really? Me neither. I actually prefer a quiet night with some good music.

YN: Same, what kind of music do you like?

Heeseung: I listen to a lot like R&B and indie ig

YN: oh rlly? Same w me 

Heeseung: oh that’s cool

Heeseung: also wanna meet up one day?

YN: That would be amazing. I’m totally up for it.

Heeseung: Cool, it’s a date then. :)

You can’t help but smile at his message, feeling a flutter of excitement.

YN: Sounds like a plan.

Heeseung: It’s getting late. I should probably get some sleep. But I’m glad we got to talk tonight.

YN: Me too. Sleep well, Heeseung. Talk to you tomorrow?

Heeseung: Definitely. Goodnight, YN. :)

You set your phone down, a smile still on your face. This might just be the start of something interesting.

YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH, smoothing out your outfit one last time before stepping into the restaurant. Heeseung is already there, waiting at a table near the window. He spots you and waves, a warm smile spreading across his face. You give a small smile back. 

“Hi,” you greet him as you sit down.

“Hey,” he replies, “You look great.”

“Thanks, you too.”

The waiter comes over to take your orders, and there’s a moment of awkward silence as you both look at the menus.

“So, uh, do you come here often?” Heeseung asks, attempting to break the ice.

“Actually, it’s my first time,” you admit.

“I see,” Heeseung awkwardly laughs. 

AFTER DINNER, you both step outside into the cool evening air, feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence.

“That was really nice,” Heeseung says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, feeling a sense of relief that the awkwardness from earlier has faded.

You walk side by side down the quiet street, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

“Do you live far from here?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.

“Not too far. Just a few blocks away,” you reply, glancing at him.

“Oh I see,” he says, smiling.

As you continued walking, the two of you began to chatter off. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you find yourself laughing at his jokes and sharing your own stories.

“Did you see the sunset earlier?” Heeseung asks, pointing to the sky, which is now painted with shades of orange and pink.

“Yeah, it was beautiful,” you say, smiling at the sight.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Heeseung says, looking at you with a soft smile.

“Me too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.

As you reach your street, you both come to a stop.

“Well, I guess this is where we part ways,” Heeseung says, looking a little reluctant to leave.

“Yeah,” you say, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

“Thanks for tonight, YN. I had a great time,” he says, stepping closer to you, “Maybe another time we can hang out again.” 

“Thank you too, Heeseung. That sounds great,” you reply, feeling a rush of happiness.

 YOU DECIDE IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR PLAN INTO ACTION. You’ve thought through every detail, determined to see if your article concept works in real life. Step one: find an ugly dog and some hideous clothes. You’ve got the perfect ideas in mind.

You meet Heeseung outside his apartment, holding a small, scruffy dog with a face only its owner could love. You flash him a bright smile as he opens the door.

“Surprise!” you exclaim. “I got us a dog!”

Heeseung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the dog. “Uh, wow, YN. That’s…unexpected.”

“Isn’t he adorable?” you gush, ignoring the bewilderment on Heeseung’s face. “I named him Snuggles.”

“Snuggles, huh?” Heeseung says, trying to muster enthusiasm. “Yeah, he’s…something.”

You place Snuggles in Heeseung’s arms, watching as the dog licks his face with an enthusiastic, slobbery tongue. Heeseung grimaces slightly but manages a strained smile.

“Let’s take him for a walk,” you suggest brightly, grabbing a garishly colored leash from your bag.

Later that evening, you bring out the next part of your plan: an outfit so hideous that it should be impossible for Heeseung to bear. You hand him a neon green tracksuit with orange polka dots and a pair of mismatched shoes.

“I thought we could match!” you say, revealing your identical outfit. “Isn’t it fun?”

Heeseung looks at the clothes, then back at you, clearly unsure how to respond. “Wow, YN. This is…unique.”

“You don’t like it?” you ask, pouting slightly.

“No, no, it’s great,” he says quickly. “I’ll just, uh, go change.”

When he returns, you both look like you’ve stepped out of a bad 80s workout video. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity, but Heeseung seems to be struggling to keep a straight face.

“Let’s go grab dinner,” you say, linking your arm with his. “I made reservations at that fancy restaurant downtown.”

At the restaurant, the two of you turn heads as you walk in, dressed in your eye-searing outfits. The hostess tries to maintain her professionalism as she leads you to your table, but you can see the corners of her mouth twitching.

Throughout dinner, you do your best to be as irritating as possible. You chew with your mouth open, talk loudly, and insist on ordering the strangest items on the menu.

“Are you sure you want the pizza?” Heeseung asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

“Absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “And I think you should try it too!”

Heeseung hesitates but eventually nods. “Sure, why not?” 

Here you were, sitting on your bed as you write your story. Typing away and zoning out, it had to be working right? He obviously would be over you by next week. All you needed was one more shove to drive him away soon as possible. Just 5 more days..

YOU PUSH YOUR CART THROUGH the aisles of the grocery store, scanning the shelves for the items on your list. As you reach for a box of cereal, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“YN?”

You turn to see Heeseung approaching, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh, hi Heeseung,” you say with a smile.

“Nice to see you here,” he says, falling into step beside you.

“Yeah, I just needed to grab a few things,” you reply, feeling a bit flustered by his presence.

Heeseung nods, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence as you both continue browsing. Suddenly, you realize you can’t reach the item you need on the top shelf.

“Um, Heeseung, do you think you could help me with something?” you ask, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Of course, what do you need?” he replies, stepping closer.

“I just need to grab that box up there,” you say, pointing to the top shelf.

“Sure thing,” Heeseung says, reaching up to grab the box.

But as he stretches, you accidentally bump into him, causing him to lose his balance. In a split second, you reach out to steady him, but instead, you end up stumbling backward, crashing to the ground on top of him. Your face merely inches from each other. 

“I’m sorry about that!” you exclaim, your face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he says, his cheeks also flushed as he helps you up.

“Um, we should probably get up,” you say, feeling flustered.

“Yeah, definitely,” Heeseung agrees, scrambling to his feet.

You both straighten your clothes and try to regain your composure, but the awkwardness lingers in the air.

“Well, um, thanks for trying to help,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Anytime,” Heeseung replies with a sheepish smile. You exchange a quick awkward glance before awkwardly walking back to do your own things.

YOU AND HEESEUNG STEP INTO THE DIMLY LIT MOVIE THEATER, the smell of popcorn filling the air. You’ve been looking forward to this night out, hoping it will help end your plan to drive him away. As you settle into your seats, the lights dim, and the movie begins.

The film is a romantic comedy, and as the story unfolds, you find yourself getting lost in the plot. But when the characters share a kiss on screen, you feel a sudden tension between you and Heeseung.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and you can see that he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You both look away awkwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

As the movie progresses, the tension between you only grows. You can feel Heeseung’s eyes on you, and you struggle to focus on the screen, your heart pounding in your chest.

Suddenly, as another kiss happens, Heeseung leans in closer to you. You freeze, unsure of what to do. Is he going to kiss you? But then, almost as if on cue, Heeseung leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. His breath mingles with yours, his warm exhales tickling your skin as he leans in, his lips drawing closer to yours. You can feel the gentle brush of his breath against your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. And then, in a heartbeat, he closes the gap between you, his lips pressing softly against yours. It’s a gentle kiss, but hesitant at first, but soon it deepens. You can’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.

You melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours.  When you finally pull away, your heart is racing, and your mind is buzzing with emotions. You meet Heeseung’s gaze, and you can see the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes.

“Wow,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

“Yeah,” you murmur, at a loss for words.

As the movie comes to an end, you both sit in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. But despite the awkwardness, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.

As you leave the theater, you can’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, feeling a sense of warmth and longing that you can’t ignore. And as you walk hand in hand with Heeseung, you realize with a start that maybe, just maybe, you’re falling in love.

AS YOU LIE IN BED THAT NIGHT, the events of the evening replay in your mind. The gentle touch of Heeseung's lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace—it all stuck in your head. 

You stare up at the ceiling, think to yourself.  Love? It's a word you're not ready to utter, a feeling too intense to comprehend. You try to push the thought aside. 

You roll onto your side, pulling the covers tighter around you. You couldn’t be in love? All that effort you put in to get rid of him. It was your 8th day, just two more days. You couldn’t do it anymore. As you drift off to sleep, the question echoes in your mind. Are you falling in love with Heeseung? 

THE REALIZATION HITS YOU like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling breathless. Could it be true? Are you actually falling in love with Heeseung?

The thought consumes you as you go about your day. By the time evening arrives, you can't shake the feeling that you needed to end it.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you pick up your phone and dial your editor's number. When she answers, you get yourself together for the conversation ahead.

"Hey, it's me," you begin, "I need to talk to you about the article."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the curiosity in her voice as she responds. "Sure, what's up?"

"I… I can't write it," you admit, the words feeling like a confession. "I just don't feel right about it anymore."

There's a moment of silence before your editor speaks again, her tone firm."No, you're writing it," she says, leaving no room for argument.

"But—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off before you can continue.

"No buts," she insists. "We've already agreed on the topic, and you're the best person for the job. I expect to see the first draft on my desk by the end of the week."

You sigh, feeling defeated. It's clear that your editor isn't going to budge on this issue, and you know that arguing further would be a waste.

"Okay," you say reluctantly, resigning yourself to the task at hand. "I'll get it done."

AS YOU SIT ON YOUR COUCH, trying to make sense of everything that's happened, until you hear Heeseung pick up a call. 

“ Heeseung!" Jake's voice crackles through the phone, filled with excitement. "So, have you sealed the deal yet? Win YN over?"

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of your name and you instinctively lean in closer, eager to hear his response. But as you listen, the color drains from your face, and a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

"The bet that I could get YN in 10 days?," Heeseung's voice comes through the phone, his words cutting through the air, "I thought I could, but…" 

Your heart shatters. Your knees started to shake. How could you have been so blind? How could you have let yourself fall for someone who was playing a game with your feelings?

Before you can hear the rest of his sentence, you leave the room silently. "I thought I could, but…" The words replay in your head.As the reality sinks in, you realize that you may have just broken your own heart, listening in on a conversation that was never meant for your ears.  He played with you. He was using you. You feel like a fool, blindsided by the truth that's been staring you in the face all along. 

You walk yourself to the nearest taxi before coming back to your empty apartment. You lie on bed, your palms on your eyes, sobbing quietly. Why should you care? I mean he was just an experiment — right? 

THE MORNING SUNLIGHT FILTERS through the curtains as you sit on your bed, thoughts rushing through your mind. The wounds from last night were still raw, as you feel tired and sick. You kew what you have to do. You began to type your last paragraph of the article before submitting it to your editor. 

With the article sent, you feel a mix of anxiety and relief. You know the revised piece is honest and raw, reflecting your own experience. But there’s one more thing you need to do to truly move forward.

To: Editor Yeseo

Subject: Resignation Letter

Dear Yeseo,

I am writing to formally resign from my position as a writer, effective immediately. I appreciate the opportunities I have had here and the support from the team, but I must prioritize my well-being at this time.

Thank you for your understanding.

Sincerely, YN

You hit send, feeling an overwhelming amount of pain. Being a writer had been your dream job, but now, it feels like a chapter you need to close. As you sit in your now-quiet apartment, you feel a pang of sadness. The memories of the past few weeks with Heeseung linger, but you push them aside. 

You start with your closet, pulling out clothes and sorting them into piles: keep, donate, and toss. You take down the photos and posters from the walls, each one a reminder of the life you’re leaving behind.

Next, you move to the kitchen, packing up dishes, utensils, and small appliances. You wrap everything carefully, methodically, as if each item represents a piece of your heart that you’re trying to protect. 

Your phone buzzes with messages from Heeseung, but you ignore them. Making them be left on delivered. You move to the living room, packing up books, DVDs, and mementos. You’re not just packing up your belongings; you’re packing up your old life, preparing to move on and start new.

IN HIS DIMLY LIT APARTMENT, Heeseung sits on the edge of his bed, the glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his face. His heart pounds in his chest as he opens the email attachment—a document titled "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—And Fall in Love in the Process" by [Your Name].

As the page loads, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to read. The cursor hovers over the first paragraph, and with a trembling hand, he begins to scroll down. 

Heeseung sits at his desk, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads the article that has just landed in his inbox. With each word, his emotions spiral into a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.

"When I set out to write this article..."

He reads the opening sentence, his brow furrowing in confusion. What article is this? And why does it sound so familiar?

As he continues to read, the pieces start to fall into place. The description of the article, the unexpected turn of events—it's all too familiar, too painful to ignore.

"I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject..."

Heeseung's breath catches in his throat as he realizes what he's reading. This is about him. About the bet, about the article he overheard, about everything.

He reads on, his heart pounding louder with each passing sentence:

When I set out to write this article, the plan was simple: follow a set of steps to make a guy dump me in ten days. It was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted challenge—a piece to entertain our readers. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject. But as the days went by, something unexpected happened. The more I tried to push him away, the closer we became. Every awkward moment, every forced argument, every silly plan to drive him away only brought us closer together.

I found myself laughing at his jokes, looking forward to our time together, and, against all odds, feeling a connection I hadn't anticipated. What started as a challenge turned into a journey of discovery—not just about him, but about myself.

I realized that love isn't something you can plan or control. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it, breaking down the walls you've carefully built around your heart. And sometimes, the person you're trying to lose ends up being the one you can't imagine living without.

So, dear readers, this isn't the article I set out to write. It's not about foolproof ways to make a guy dump you. Instead, it's a story about how, in the process of trying to push someone away, I found myself falling in love. It's messy, it's unexpected, and it's beautiful.

Life has a funny way of turning our plans upside down. And sometimes, the best stories are the ones we never meant to write.

He closes the magazine, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you how he feels. He can't let this opportunity slip away, can't let the chance to be with you slip through his fingers.

With a sense of determination, Heeseung rises from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to find you, to tell you how he feels, to see if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way too.

HEESEUNG'S HEART RACES AS HE RUSHES THROUGH THE STREETS, his mind consumed with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you everything.

As he rounds the corner, he sees your apartment building looming ahead. His steps quicken, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He's so close now, so close to finally telling you how he feels.

But as he reaches your building, his heart sinks at the sight before him. He sees movers loading boxes into a truck parked outside, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that you're moving away.

Heeseung's chest tightens with panic, his mind racing as he searches for a solution. He can't let you slip away, can't let this chance to be with you slip through his fingers. He rushes toward the building, his thoughts jumbled all up. 

As he bursts through the door, he sees you standing in the hallway, a suitcase at your feet, tears streaming down your face. His heart breaks at the sight of your sadness, and he knows he needs to act fast.

"Y/N!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the empty hallway. You turn to face him, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him standing there.

"Heeseung?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "What are you doing here?"

Heeseung takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "I need to talk to you," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago."

He steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I was part of the bet," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it was never about winning a thousand dollars or proving anything to Jake. It was about proving something to myself—to prove that I could be the kind of guy who deserves someone like you."

Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his confession, your heart aching with a mix of sadness and hope. "Heeseung…" you whisper, reaching out to touch his hand.

But Heeseung doesn't wait for you to say anything more. With a surge of courage, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, pouring all of his love and longing into the kiss. 

As Heeseung's lips meet yours in that soft, tender kiss, his hands gently find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You feel the heat of his body against yours, the closeness intensifying the sensation of his lips moving against yours. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as if memorizing every curve of your body.

You pull away, staring and laughing for a moment. 

"I love you," you whisper softly. 

"I love you more," he smiles back, quietly leaning his forehead against yours to quickly catch his lips on yours again. Maybe writing that article wasn't so bad after all.

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ toji fushiguro x his favorite customer (revision)

✧ summary toji has a little soft spot for his favorite customer that he can't get enough of.

✧ content warnings reader is a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. chubby!reader and inexperienced!reader. rich girl in her midtwenties, very needy! usage of profanity, standing missionary, oral - m!receiving, doggy style, mixture of praise and degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected, creampie and squirting, terms of endearment ─ pretty girl, princess, baby, baby girl, etc. softdom!toji with rough, passionate, and filthy intercourse. told in first POV ─ toji's. i got reader calling toji TJ, and i think that’s so cute pls.

✧ author's note happy birthday to my baby daddy toji fushiguro! we've been going strong now for years. just a little something something to celebrate him. this fic has been in the drafts since December. talk about black people time, old sksk. also, if you already seen the original of this fic on tumblr, it's mine lol. this is just a revision, so don't go around saying i copied someone! my writing has changed so i wanted to redo this and add some adjustments. i hope y'all enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. ♡ AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND/OR MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT.

 

 When it comes to women I fuck, I treat them the same because at the end of the day, they pay me good money to stuff their pussy with cock. 

 Don’t really care if they're married either. I usually get the old, desperate broads that aren’t getting any attention from their husbands at home, so it’s my job to make them feel good for the night. 

 I don’t do favorites. 

 I damn sure don’t give discounts. 

 And I definitely don’t get attached. But the moment I met Y/N that all changed. 

 My favorite customer. 

 Never did I expect a younger woman to pay me to get fucked, especially when she looks that good. 

 I’m almost positive she has a line filled with fuckers that’s desperately wanting to know what this tight, wet pussy feels like, yet here I am, living their fantasy. 

 I fucked Y/N once. 

 Then, twice. 

 Then, again.

 And again.

 And again…

 If I didn’t know any better, I’m fucking obsessed with her. Can’t even say it’s just for the money she’s paying me. Probably the best pussy I ever had.

 No. 

 It is. 

 So fucking warm, and she takes dick well, too. I usually give only an hour or two to my customers, but for Y/N? I reserved the whole night to relish her pussy. 

 The perfect fuck to end my day. 

 Those soft, sweet-sounding moans that slipped through her full brown and pink lips, having my previous cum shot staining them had me running wild. 

 But it seems like I’m not the only one who’s sex drunk. 

 Cock is all on Y/N’s mind right now. Whimpering and crying how big I am and thanking me for giving her dick. Tears pricks those chestnut-colored hues and I’m in fucking awe. She’s so damn pretty. 

 “You know how gorgeous you look taking cock like this? Being a good fucking slut for me, princess?” I ask, being met with a nod and her moaning in response. 

 Y/N’s pussy talks to me. Wet noises spreading throughout the room while I have my arms hooked under the fold of her knees, fucking her recklessly to push past any intrusion. 

 She’s jumping with me every thrust I make, causing her tits to bounce obnoxiously. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on them like it’s my last dying breath, hearing that sweet whimper. 

 I belong in Y/N’s pussy, and she belongs to me, too, the way she’s gripping my cock and milking me. All of her cream and wetness drips between us and down my balls, and it feels fucking amazing. Every time I experience her velvet walls, I find myself becoming more animalistic, hungry and territorial over someone who should only be seen as a client. 

 But fuck, something in me says I would go batshit crazy if I ever found out she had other motherfuckers experiencing this. 

 Knowing how she looks when sweat coats her beautiful brown skin. How it feels to stretch her out and make her adjust to you. Just thinking about it makes me pound into her deeper and more aggressively. 

 “Toji, baby, yes. This feels so good,” she purrs. “Like that. Keep fucking me like that.”

 I hum. “Yeah? This is what you wanted, right? Paid me to please this good pussy?”

 By all means, Y/N isn’t a virgin, but she told me she doesn’t have much experience and I can tell by how tight she is. 

 Our sounds of pleasure resonate in the air, and I call her my good girl, praising how perfect her pussy is, to be met with her squeezing me and watery brown eyes. 

 “Toji… Toji… Yes. God, yes.”

 “Keep using your words, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick in your pussy,” I ordered softly.

 “I love it so much. It’s so big, baby,” she tells me, slurring her words because of her lips still being on mine. “You’re going to make me cum.”

 I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Not yet. Come taste yourself.”

 Without hesitation, Y/N slides down to her knees and starts sucking my dick. I hiss at her swallowing me and the warmth of her mouth. She doesn’t take her time when sucking me off, immediately circling her head and throating me. 

 “Hot fucking mouth made to suck dick, huh, pretty girl?” I firmly grabbed her chin so she could look at me. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Open up your throat for me like a good girl.” 

 Y/N hollows her cheeks and bobs her head fervently on my dick, tightening her lips around me. 

 She sucks dick so fucking good, better than any other woman I’ve been with. And I just know I’m bound to bust quickly if she keeps doing this shit. 

 My hand finds the back of Y/N’s head to grip and I buck my hips deeper into her mouth, ensuring I hit the back of her throat everytime. I’m a fucking mad man when I begin fucking the gorgeous face, especially when she’s looking up at me with those big brown eyes. 

 A spoiled brat, prim and shy, who’s spending daddy’s money to get fucked and folded by an old bastard like me. Think I fucking developed a kink for this type because of Y/N.

 I pumped into her mouth more aggressively until she began choking and gagging on my cock. Drool and precum coating her mouth in the process. 

 Any type of control Y/N tries to take, I push past it because I want to use that pretty little mouth of hers how I want. She needs to get her money’s worth when fucking with me. 

 “Going to fuck my cum deep down that throat of yours, and you’re going to swallow it. Got that?” She nods and I softly tap the side of her face. “That’s it. Keep those lips tight around me.” 

 “Toji, pl—please,” she slurs, causing me to chuckle. 

 “Hm, look at you. Trying so hard to talk to me while sucking my dick. It’s cute.” I slow down my quick thrusts, but replace them with more fervent ones, pushing me and her head down until my cock outlines her throat. 

 My balls grow heavy and obnoxiously slaps Y/N’s chin, a clear indication I’m about to fucking cum. 

 Grunting, whining, gasping like a little bitch for air because head like this has a fucker like me sounding like a broken mess. 

 Blood rushes to my groin and I start getting sloppy, feeling my muscles tightening and ache burning between my thighs. I’m close, so fucking close to filling her mouth with my release, then I can finish fucking that fat pussy. 

 Everything about this damn woman is perfect. Her pussy. How she sucks cock. That fucking chubby and curvy body of hers. A pretty face with loaded cash.

 Yeah, she’s definitely mine after tonight. And I’m talking about anything lovey dovey. Meaning if I catch her being a slut like this to anyone else, I’d kill that fucker. 

 No hesitation. I-

 “Y/N, fuck!” I grunt while cumming in her mouth. This load is fucking heavy, but she’s trying her best to swallow every drop. 

 I groan at the sight of Y/N touching her tits and palming her pussy, knowing how much she’s turned on, too. It’s like the vibrations of her moans pulls more cum out my fucking dick.

 A mess I made on her face, but the joyful lust I see in her eyes tells me she doesn’t give a damn. 

 Good, because I’m not finished with her. 

 “All fours on the bed. Now,” I demanded. “Still gotta fill up your pussy.”

 Perfection is what I think when I see Y/N from behind, arched back, ass in the air and pussy dripping, ready for me to fuck. 

 I force an arch in her back and plunge my cock in her tight little pussy with one deep stroke. Y/N gasps in the air and I take the opportunity to pull her up by the throat and start pounding her cunt. 

 Why the fuck is she so goddamn wet? She takes cock well, bud shit, I abruptly slip out each and every thrust. 

 “Keep me inside that pussy, baby girl. Stop fucking letting go,” I gritted in her ear. She reaches behind her to hold my dick and push back into me with a tighter grip. “Hm, just like that. So fucking good to me, aren’t you?”

 “I need more dick, TJ. Fuck me harder, baby. I can take you,” she moans. 

 Begging for cock she’s already paying for… Shit, I get a kick out of how pathetically sexy she sounds. 

 I repeatedly slammed into her wet cunt, thrust after thrust, pussy creaming even further than before. If it’s one thing I can listen to for the rest of my life, it’s how Y/N sounds when she’s being fucked. 

 My name drips perfectly from her lips.

 Our skin smacking fills the air in the room along my hand striking her ass until I guarantee it’ll bruise in the morning. 

 “Look at this fat ass moving when I pound into this pussy. Fucking beautiful,” I growled.

 “Toji, please. I… I don’t care how much… I’ll pay more. Just keep fucking me like this.”

 I chuckle. “Atta girl.”

 I see why motherfuckers catch feelings when fucking pussy. I almost feel tempted to tell Y/N that I love her while fucking her. She has pussy that’ll make a fucker crazy… Possessive… Jealous.

 I applied more pressure to Y/N’s throat and pulled her against my chest. “You know who this pussy belongs to. Right, princess?”

 “God, yes, Toji. You… it belongs to you.” Her voice comes off as a faint cry and I know she’s on the verge of cumming. Especially with how her pussy is pulsating around me. 

 “Mhm, that’s right. Dreamed of my fucking dick pounding this tight little cunt, now I have you mindfucked. Huh?” I pinch her nipples with my free hand and increase my thrusts. “You’re about to come for me. Aren’t you, Y/N? I know you are. I can feel it. You should see the mess your slutty pussy is making between us.”

 “Fuck, I didn’t mean to, baby. It’s just… you feel good. So fucking good,” she whimpers, bouncing her ass back into me to meet with my thrusts. 

 “Maybe I should have you clean it with your mouth. Hm?”

 I release Y/N’s throat to shove her face into the bed and deepen her arch more than before. My single hand returns to her hips to grip, pulling her round ass back on my cock to kiss her center. 

 Can’t get over how wet—how tight and warm this fucking pussy is. The harder I fuck her, the louder her pussy gets and I grunt, curse underneath my breath at hearing the sound of her muffled moans. 

 I don’t give a fuck if one of us catches feelings after this. Actually, I want her to. I want Y/N to be dick hungry only for me. 

 I want her pussy to smell like I’m the only fucker that’s been running through her. I’m even fucking tempted to breed this pussy just so she’s mine.

 Why the fuck would I want to have sex with any other women after knowing what Y/N feels like? 

 “You take cock like a fucking pro. Look at you gripping me. Look at how this pussy is mine.”

 She spreads her ass cheeks to feel every inch of my dick. “Fuck me, Toji. Harder. Fuck me harder, I’m about to cum.”

 “Shit, me too, sweetheart. Such a perfect fuck toy. Going to fill you all the way up,” I rasped. “Fuck me back. Keep taking this dick.”

 My thrusts are sloppy. I throw my head back and swear into the air and moan her name. My balls grow heavier and heavier until I fucking but and empty my cum inside her pussy. 

 And she’s right there with me, crying my name and thanking me for giving her toe-curling orgasm. 

 Fucking enjoy hearing my pretty girl thank me for giving her cock. She just looks so damn pretty when she cums, too. 

 Dark brown skin sweating. The sight of her ruined makeup with mascara running down her cheeks. Moans sounding like a broken record. 

 Yeah, she’s a perfect fuck. 

 My favorite customer. 

© 2024 tojiscumdumpster Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost (sharing links is okay) anywhere. I only upload on tumblr and you will find some of my work in ao3.

[foxyaries]

My Shifting Story That Keeps Me Motivated To This Day

Well hello again! I think it is time I share my own "almost" success story. I know a lot of you might not be interested in reading about my ALMOST success. But trust me... the more I tink about my own story the more I realize how silly it was of me to procrastinate actually doing it for so long. It's almost funny. But let's get into it, shall we?

As I have already mentioned it in my previous posts (please do read them if you haven't already to fill in any blanks that you may or may not have). I have been at a very dark place at that time. And I didn't wanna live the way that I had for as long as I could remember, because I simply wasn't happy.. with my life or my family. And I felt like I was a good kid. And I was! So when I discovered the subliminal world.. I saw it as my escape and a way to finally become happy. And that's when the subliminal "Wake up in your desired family" came into picture.

Like I mentioned before, there were only a couple success stories under that subliminal, but at that time our community was even smaller compared to what it is now. And those 10 - 14k views was more than enough for me to believe that it was a real deal. It's a bit funny to think about it now because these days we tend to pick subliminals that has thousands and thousands and thousands of views? Am I right? :) That's how we decide whether the subliminal works or not.

Anyways.. back to my storytime. I have already mentioned in another post of mine that those success stories that I did see all said the same thing. That for them to start feeling the results it took them a couple months. And if you remember as well as I do. Back then everyone set a limiting belief that for a subliminal message to start working you need to listen to it for at least 21 days. Even tho that wasn't true, I didn't know much about shifting so I believed it. And I also wasn't desperate enough, so since the stories told me it took THEM 1 - 2 months, I figured it'd take me the exact amount of time. And I thought it was nothing compared to the future I was gonna have.

So all that I did for those couple months was listen to that subliminal at least 1 hour a day and sometimes if I could overnight with the idea that I could wake up in my desired family any given moment. Pay attention to that. I didn't set a deadline or put pressure on myself for doing anything wrong. I just listened and knew it was going to happen. When exactly? No idea. How exactly? Not a clue, but I didn't care. Because knowing less was actually more of a blessing than I thought. I had no limiting beliefs. All it did was awaken my inner child and that whole journey felt magical to me and I really looked foward to my results.

Probably a month passed by when I started getting tired around the same time, every single day so I'd take naps. At a time a half an hour nap was more than enough to make me feel rested and I'd get in the state of being awake yet asleep at the same time. You know what I am talking about. The state during which it feels like you are in and out of sleep. When the sounds feel like they are far far away and then they dissapear. It almost sounds like I was close to tapping in the void state, no? :)

So whenever I'd feel tired I'd just have one earbud in my ear and lay in whatever comfortable position I wanted to lay in. It usually was on my side. And I had no intention to shift because I KNEW it was gonna happen either way. So I'd lay down and just have myself doze off listening to my playlist (I had a couple boosters too but then I'd just loop the main subliminal). And then I started feeling unusual sensations and feelings I have never felt before. All I did was just lay there and day dream about how I was gonna wake up in my desired room and I tried imagining it in detail. How I was gonna walk out of my room and see my best friends that I was going to shift there with. And literally all I did was just loop that scene because it made me happy :')

I keep rambling haha I'm sorry. Back to what happened. I was probably a month in when I started to get tired and naking naps around the same time and suddenly my naps were different? I would just mind my own business, think about my future when suddenly I would feel this insanely strong sensation that I was being lifted off of my bed and that my body was turning and flying somewhere?? But because I didn't know exactly what it was it'd freak me out and my body would flinch. That's when I'd recover the feeling of my body back and it felt like I'd literally fall back into my bed. And I mean LITERALLY get slammed back into my body. And this wasn't a one time thing. Same thing kept happening every single day for like 2 weeks (until I got insecure and shifted my focus somehwere else as I've mentioned in another post). What's funny is that I didn't even realize what was happening. I was just like "Oh? That's a new feeling" I was just curious and wanted for it to keep happening so I could understand it better. I only realized what it was when it stopped happening all together and for that I blame myself.

But you know what? It's okay. I've learnt so much since then. And it's insane how all I did every day was look for other success stories to convince myself that this was real. When I had my own very real success story. I KNOW all fo this is real because I experienced it. And I am done looking for a confirmation from other people. I know the truth and that's enough. And you should too. You don't need any of these methods. All you need is to do whatever makes you feel comfortable and happy and that you know works for YOU. Cause what actually matters is that YOU KNOW is gonna work for you. That's all that ANY of us really need.

I know this is a lot, but if you actually read this I hope it helped and made you realize something... anything really. Be your own success story and make your dreams come true.

I believe soon you will hear about my own final success story:) Goodbye for now. Next post will be more about my fairy companion. Do look forward to that!

Much love,

Foxy ♡🦊

[loulovingho]

ABC and the 911 team didn’t realize that there would be so many already traumatized millennial gay men relating to Tommy on levels they don’t understand (joys of most of the writing staff and Tim being heterosexual as far as we know). And now the traumatized millennial gay men who spent their lives hiding, are finally coming out en mass and voicing their disappointment in what happened and how badly it was handled. Whatever they had planned for BuckTommy will need to changed at this point.

And don’t even get us started on the Facebook wine moms. Those are the moms of the traumatized gay men. They are the mama bears watching their cubs in pain again after watching them getting bullied and hurt all throughout their childhood, their teenage years and their adult life. And they see their cubs happy with a silly little character on a silly little show and then it’s all ripped apart. And if there is anything Boomer parents know how to do, and they do it well, is to take to Facebook and complain.

ABC, 911, Tim Minear, and everyone involved didn’t expect this to happen. And I hope they learn from it.

The thing is it even goes beyond millennial gay men. Obviously it's important rep for them and I've seen so many posts (from way before the breakup) from gay men talking about how important Tommy is to them, I am not trying to undermine that in anyway. I'm just saying, as a bi woman, Tommy spoke to me too. I'm not kidding when I say I relate to him more than any other character on the show. Even Buck's bi arc, while I loved it, didn't relate to me.

I know we had to fill in the blanks a lot with Tommy, but he grew up with a Gerrard, was probably surrounded by Gerrards, and my experience was similar. Not exactly with my parents (they were/are very conservative, but not Gerrard-like), but with the school and church I grew up in, my city, extended family, etc. There was no access to the internet or a way for me to do research and work on my own biases. What I learned was what I knew and it's what I stuck with well into adulthood.

That's when I started working on myself, figuring out what I believed, how I thought about things. The things that had been drilled into my head from youth started to not add up and I was like "Oh, I gotta fix this!"

And then a few years after that, I realized I myself was bisexual. That is a terrifying realization for someone who grew up being told how terrible it was to be anything but straight. I know Tommy's loneliness, I know Tommy's fear, I AM that Tommy. And that's why it I wanted to see him win. I still want to see him win. I want to see him be allowed to be happy.

[were-wolverine]

batfam as new girl quotes

steph: where are you, tim? this place is fancy and i don’t know which fork to kill myself with.

***

dick (16 y/o): i’ll take you through the whole thing. i’ll be like your guide.

jason (13 y/o): like gandalf through middle-earth?

dick: ok, first of all, let’s take the Lord of the Rings references and put them in a deep, dark cave where no one will ever find them.

jason: except smeagol. he lives in a cave.

***

tim: you text me “happy monday.” what am i supposed to do with that?

damian: oh, i don’t know. maybe have a happy monday?

(he’s trying to be nice)

***

jason: would you consider us adorable?

dick: no! we’re adult men.

dick: we’re cute.

***

cass: you always see the worst in people.

damian: yeah, because people are the worst!

***

steph: i mean, bruce, we love you, but…

steph: but you’re not a man of the people.

bruce: of course i’m not a man of the people. i’m above the people.

***

cass: we’re a family. families talk about things.

jason: no, families ignore things until they go away.

***

new parent bruce: dick, do you want to go to sleep?

9 y/o dick: no way.

bruce: if you do, i’ll write you a check for $6,000.

***

duke: what are you doing in here?

tim: eating cookies and avoiding confrontation.

(in the bathroom at a gala)

***

steph: jason, come on, that’s like the president and the vice president not being best friends.

jason: they’re not best friends.

steph: come on. everybody knows they’re best friends.

***

dick: i’m in love!

damian: titus, clear my schedule. i need a word with our brother.

***

steph: duke, those shoes are not brown! they’re green!

duke: you guys are idiots! they’re as brown as money.

cass: what color is kermit the frog?

duke: brown! he’s a brown frog.

tim: duke! you’re color blind, dude.

***

bruce: darn it! has anyone seen my croquet cleats?

***

tim: hey guys, do you think i’m a good person?

steph: you’re a terrible person. it’s hilarious.

***

dick: i’m very quick on my… uh…

jason: did you just forget the word ‘feet’?

dick: feet, yeah.

(he’s been awake for 72 hours without sleep)

***

duke: i can’t believe i didn’t notice this before but damian, you are legitimately crazy.

damian: i think we’re all a little bit crazy, don’t you, thomas?

duke: no, i mean, you’re like aging ballerina, child chess prodigy, professional magician crazy.

damian: it’s my grandfather’s fault.

duke: yeah okay fair enough

***

tim: if i was doing something stupid, you definitely would be involved.

dick: yeah, you’re damn right i would be. and i would probably be there to make it even stupider.

***

bruce: has anyone seen my good pea coat?

***

steph: i brake for birds. i rock a lot of polka dots. i have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!

steph: and that doesn’t mean i’m not smart and tough and strong.

***

jason: are you insane, bruce? we’re not ready.

jason: that’s like taking a musical from rehearsals straight to broadway. you got to workshop it first.

(pushing the theatre kid jason agenda)

***

dick: you realize i say goodnight to you every night and you never say goodnight back?

dick: what is the problem, jason? do you not want me to have a good night?

jason: oh my god you’re so overdramatic

***

tim: please don’t mistake my measured blank tone for calmness, as i am filled with waters of rage.

(he’s at a gala)

***

bruce: damn it! i can’t find my driving moccasins anywhere!

***

duke: what a dumb idea.

duke: do it.

(he is an enabler)

[spaloonbabooguuscooties]

You could drink your whole life away and still never get that taste out of your mouth.

half commission for @salempie half completely self indulgent dreck pieced together from our insane conversations abt franke and elka. told myself id finally write a big explanation for all of the dum shit between these two for context so Thats Under The Cut.

so I already wrote some stuff about elka and franke's relationship back in whispering rock so feel free to look at that too . it goes over elkas blindness/‘seeing’ with clairvoyance and how her and franke started talking & all that good stuff

SO FOR STARTERS. a lot of thsi wont make sense without a big breakdown of elka herself. because elkas potential as a character is like insane to me. like just the idea of her in the long run of her life reads as something so potentially tragic; a young girl whos plagued with visions of doom and destined to be an outcast even in her own home for things she cant control and clings to the One vision of her wedding that she thinks is 'happy' even despite the fact she doesnt really love the person in it. im choosing to take the li-po doc as canon here because its funny shes the only one with backstory-

but my fucking god even the smallest look into what her parents are like is soo fucked up to me. and i do think elka especially gets a lot of influence from her mother; its funny how easily you can fit mabel doom into a box just from what elka says about her. knees deep in an avon-esque pyramid scheme and leaning into her daughters depressing ass visions & taking her to therapy at age 11 (which would be good if not for the kind of person you can already assume she is & so i doubt the therapist she has really does her any good. i think they share one). she reads as a very I Am My Daughters Best Friend type of mom to me and i can see elka being a centerpiece of the conversation when she has her Amway Girls over for drinks. wine-mom that lets her kid sip from the glass so she can feel like a big girl type deal.

and you can tell that elka is trying to hard to be too mature for her age even in her campster posts. how she writes letters to nils' mom and exchanges baking recipes with her and that feels like she really only interacts with middle aged women and not really many people her own age outside of camp (like her moms friends). which makes sense shed feel the need to ‘grow up’ early when shes probably had to process so many hard things at a young age bc of her visions.

theres a lot of filling the blanks here of course.

elka obsesses over nils to an overbearing degree even despite the fact he treats her like shit ('you promised no talking' and so on) and she treats him bad right back. she leans onto stereotypical heterosexual ideals like taking care of him and overblowing how Manly and Protective JT is and she admires romance stories like pride and prejudice and it feels like she Projects Soooooooo much of what she wants onto boys she barely feels anything for without knowing what its actually supposed to feel like. and clearly she WANTS that ideal future, a happy marriage, an actual romance- but according to nils even when they were dating she ignored him most of the time, which just seems Very Telling

like shes filling a role, overcompensating for emotions and lacktherof she cant digest quite yet, and it only makes more sense when you know shes had visions of their future together. how could that be bad for her? shouldnt it be like the books and movies? but she doesnt really connect the fact that her visions are only for Doomed futures, and if she does she certainly doesnt show it. Doomed relationships. it's been a part of her family for generations and she isn't turning out much different, is she? i dont think she even realizes thats all she ever sees yet, just that its Going to happen. that it's Her future, and it always will be

and like, her only reference for a real marriage so far has been her own parents, and she already Knows they have an affair, and theyre doomed to split, (and i actually like to think they were in rough waters anyway and elka was a child meant to mend a crumbling marriage but thats a whole other thing) and so without a framework for what an actual healthy relationship is supposed to be like she cant really grasp that her relationship with nils Isnt that and isnt ever going to be. she can only cling to this one happy idea of the future, and thats why she keeps chasing him, self fulfilling the actuality of her situation and creating and fostering the unhappy life they will inevitably live together.

and that bleeds into everything else in her life, of course, because as the years go on, as the visions grow in number it just makes sense for her to fall into the predictability of her life. she always knows whats going to happen, her visions are Never wrong- so why try to change things? shes had time to process tragedies days, weeks, months, years before they happen, shes had time to settle into every crack of her life. her parents divorce, her various break ups, her future with the psychonauts.

“and she's already seen so much of a future with [nils] she feels trapped almost. Like she has to be happy in it or else it just means her life is miserable. And it's a mixture of pride and fear of the unknown that keeps her clinging to the One thing she knows. BUT LIKE!!! She knows what's gonna happen! It's easier to grieve when she's been grieving for years... She wants so badly to be happy, But to do that she has to step into the unfamiliar. And that's more terrifying than staying the same miserable person she's always been.”

and thats where franke comes in— and yeah you Do have to take a lot of liberties for frankes character since it’s basically, like, all the info for her is just that shes a Supreme Baby Dyke but thats enough for me. i think she has protective butch itch in her . on campster shes defensive over other women evidenced in the way she keeps watch over the girls cabins for lili when elton is pursuing her . but shes also eager to please and constantly trying to make kitty laugh and also Very naive. but she tries! and i think it only solidifies more as she gets Older and really gets a hold of her feelings & her powers. this is incredibly franke to me

and i think as they grow older together— because i think franke and elka Do stay friends, both because elka is just pathetic and needs that positive connection even if she doesnt realize it and because i think franke is a very Loyal person & annoyingly persistent if you let her be . and i am also a kitty/franke truther. because kittys also important in this web we weave

because i think franke and kitty stay together after camp, to a point— theres a falling out facilitated on kittys end and they break up, but reconnect, and franke kind of... saves kitty from herself a little, from her strict military father whos love only extends thru finances , from her own stifling future , she drives all the way to bakersville in her shitty van handmedowned from her dad and they move in together eventually . they get jobs at the motherlobe , because it’s a pipeline to a decent job, because it’s whats easy, because franke doesn’t really have a future, because she’s never really been good at much, because shes never had much sense, because franke doesnt really care as long as she can live and help, sometimes, if she can, and because kitty’s there, and because elka’s there, and shes so used to being elkas eyes now and shes good at it. shes good at being the muscle of the missions when her colleagues lack it, when hypnosis and predictions arent enough. she likes it that way.

and elka appreciates frankes company. she listens, shes sweet, she does little things for her that no ones ever really put the effort for before; she likes her. franke is strong and bold and makes her laugh and shes always there but god elka cant let go of that future, of that box shes put herself in, that her mothers put her in, of being a Good Wife to a Loving Husband, of getting married normally and falling into unfailing familiarity. thats all shes ever wanted and shes not going to jeopardize that . not for franke, who may not be a boy but is handsome like one, whos always held her after every break up with nils and the men that filled empty days inbetween.

and elka is too stubborn to recognize those feelings anyway. too prideful to accept a way out. too set in her cycle no matter how much she hates it, her little self fulfilling tragedy of her own making, wallowing in her own doom. she struggles for control of her own life when she feels like every choice has been made for her anyway, she puts up her walls and carefully constructs what people see. but franke was always harder to trick, because while empathy isnt a particularly useful psychic power it’s certainly an inconvenient one. all franke has to do is get too close and all those carefully crafted walls fall apart, and elkas control is gone, and thats all she really has. and she tries to distance herself, really she does, but franke is also too persistent. and elka wears gloves, keeps contact that would make her walls crumble from happening as best as she can, but she cant really keep herself from the brief moments where she feels like someone actually fucking cares about her.

and that slightest lack of control, the need to wrestle it back is why she proposes to nils the next time theres a falling out— she knows how it happens, she plans every detail. and he accepts, despite everything. gets her a cheap ring and it feels like lead on her finger and its nothing at all like how shed thought it to be when she was a kid, theres no feather light feeling in her chest, only that dreadful reality that she cant turn this back. BUT WHAT CAN U DO LMAO

elka doesnt tell franke about this engagement until later, on their way back from a mission. late at night when neither of them can sleep, and franke invites elka to smoke in her van, because its been so long since theyve been alone like that, because elkas been so strangely absent lately. and because of everything, because frankes always so damn nice, because elka hates the feel of the ring on her finger, because she let herself get high alone with franke fucking athens whos always been so good at pulling her apart— the truth of it all spills out and its messy and emotional and she hates it, she hates the life shes made for herself, but franke makes it easier to bare and now shes here and shes so close and god she wishes she could see her smile again, she wishes she could see franke, thats all she needs right now and she cant but she can touch her and she can hold her and for tonight, she can be known, she can let those walls crumble, she can be something else just for once here with franke . she can kiss her here in this van, touch that happiness for just a moment, and forget the future that waits for her outside of it. franke begs her to forget the wedding, to just let herself be happy— and god, she wants to, but it means turning her back on everything shes known and everything shes saw to be inevitable, and franke has never been in her future, so if it were supposed to work out why hadnt she seen it and she cant, she cant take that risk but she can have this, even if its temporary, she can have it.

and just as soon as she gets a taste of it, its gone. after that night, after the missions over and theyre back at the motherlobe and have to pretend like nothing happened (franke doesnt, of course she tells kitty about it, she tells kitty about everything.) but that brief moment together haunts elka every time she sees franke, sees herself through frankes eyes, sees herself in her wedding dress because god its all franke can think about! of course it is! she knows how much elkas destroying herself she knows how much misery shes wallowing in that kiss in the van felt like an emotional punch to the teeth and she hasnt ever forgotten it and all she can do is sit and watch while elka throws herself into a loveless marriage. she can come to her wedding and see the way the bride and groom kiss with the emotional weight of a wet towel no matter how hard elka tries to hide it under a pretty dress and bouquets of flowers and meticulous planning.

and elka resents nils but she cant really hate him, its not his fault, not really. he feels trapped just like she does and his feelings of misery only cycle back into hers . they fight and gnash and wear away at each other and its a relationship thats crashed and burned a million times before elka even said i do. and its inevitable that she falls into her mothers habits, a sip of wine here and there to loosen up, until it turns to a glass, until it falls into a bottle on nights when whatever work nils does runs late.

but franke’s still there. shes always been there, hasn’t she? always trying to play knight, always trying to save her, dragging her home when shes stumbling over herself because god who else is going to do it but her? who else is left to care? certainly not nils. never nils. because franke knows her. because franke pities her. shes always pitied her. shes always known. and elka hates it, she resents it, but god in the same breath she’s desperate for it, she envies it to her very bones. elka is a mess but after frankes done with her she has someone to go back to that loves her. and god what elka wouldnt do to have that. to take it and keep it for herself because shes never ever got to have that movie romance shes always wanted.

so now comes this.

because elkas particularly miserable and particularly spiteful and she needs to get franke to understand, just for a moment, drink with her and get on her level and she needs her there with her no matter how her pity makes her feel. no matter how much it makes her shake with anger and envy and desperation, but god the way franke looks at her, the way she still tries to salvage what they have, the soft, slurred way she tells her that it’s okay but its not okay, none of this is okay, it never has been and she just wants franke to shut up and see that, and if she cant then she’ll show her, she’ll show her all the raw angry desperation, with too much teeth and hands that claw and grab and she’ll know why everyones always said she’s too much.

and she knows this puts her on nils’ level too. that this makes her a cheater, that shes no better than he is now. no better than her father and his affair. but god, she wants to be selfish. she wants to be in control. just for once. she wants to feel right and she wants to feel happy and she wants to feel loved. thats all shes ever wanted. and franke will let her have that, just for a little while, at the very least.

anyway. sorry. sorry for being crazy . this isnt even getting into the shit after the comic takes place . elkas stupid brainworld thag she has to overcome in order to finally be allowed in the polycule and live happily ever as worlds first lesbian divorceman

sorry for all the shit i make up instead of caring about actual characters with screentime . bye !

[cheollipop]

so I've been thinking about the sleepover and there's one scenario won't leave my mind.. Imagine you (reader) is dating seonghwa but he seems to know that san has a thing for you as well. He thought nothing of it when san would linger in his room when you were over but then he started to notice san's eyes look longingly after the two of you. There was nothing san missed, not a touch or shared glance, but he didn't seonghwa watching him. After sometime seonghwa suggest san "sleepover" while that watch a movie marathon. cramped side by side in seonghwa's bed you try to watch the movie but there's more attention on you than on the flashing tv screen.

My brain hasn't filled in the blanks but what if San lays beneath you, pressed chest to chest while seonghwa rails into you from above. Imagine San's poor cock trapped between the two of you. Leaking and swollen red. But he can't take his eyes of your changing face expressions. Seonghwa has practically pinned your waist to San. A whiny moan leaving San's mouth everytime Hwa thrust harshly. Fingers probably twitching at his side, unsure if he can touch you or not.

I'm going to throw myself in front of a moving bus,,, I am so horny for these two.

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

nabi.....i've dmed you about this very ask,, screaming, creaming, crying, throwing UP- ahem. no fr though, the visual alone had me gripping my sheets and contemplating arson. bc???? oh my lord. I wrote this all in one go, and it ended up being longer than I thought it would be bc I ignored every possible ending until I realised that I needed to stop ✋ thank you SO much for sharing this with me, and I really hope I did it justice!~ happy reading~ ^^

pairing: bf!park seonghwa x fem!reader x roommate!choi san

w.c.: 0.9k

tags: smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, mean-ish dom!seonghwa, san is soo desperate, begging, grinding (ig?), hints of a creampie kink, i think that's it >:]

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

“You wanna touch her, don’t you?”

The fingers digging into the flesh of your hips splayed out between your shoulder blades, pushing you down onto San’s body, nipples brushing over his and breaths mingling in the shortened gap between your faces. Seonghwa hammered his cock into you, getting off on the broken moans leaving your lips, and perhaps on San’s pathetic expression as well—furrowed eyebrows and teary, hooded eyes taking in the sweat beading on your forehead—as he watched him use your cunt like a cocksleeve, arms resting idly beside him while he resisted the urge to touch your trembling body.

“Bet you’re leaking all over her.”

A shiver ran through San’s body, spurting more precum onto his lower belly, the sticky mess transferring onto yours as you jerked forward with every thrust. A whimper fell from his lips, his cock—hard and throbbing—trapped between his firm torso and yours, and more than ever, he wanted to watch it sink into your tight heat, to empty out the load he’d been holding onto just for you, only to watch it flood out in thick streams.

“Think I didn’t know you were jerking off in your room every time I fucked her? You dirty slut,” the backs of your thighs stung as Seonghwa pumped his cock into you with fervour, folding himself over your figure with a growl echoing in his throat, peering at San over your shoulder. You nearly scoffed; he’d missed the hints of irony laced into his last statement. Seonghwa was the one getting off on fucking you atop his roommate’s body, his cock pulsing between your walls at the desperate whine leaving San’s lips. “You wanna touch her?”

San’s eyes snapped off your blissed-out face to meet Seonghwa’s, fingers twitching at his side at the mere thought of running them over your damp skin. He nodded his head vigorously, envisioning your nipples at the mercy of his thumbs and pointers, handfuls of your ass in his palms, pushing you back onto Seonghwa’s cock, and forward to grind on his.

“Beg for it, Sannie.”

And San was a desperate man, with a pride that allowed him to give the older man what he wanted, the heavy presence of his cock resting under your heated flesh nearly driving him to delirium. “Seonghwa, please. Fuck—hngh—c’mon, let me touch her, I’ve been so good. Please, please, Hwa-”

Sandwiched between the two men, Seonghwa pressed you down onto San until your face buried into the crook of his neck, missing the wide, glimmering eyes staring into those below you while he spoke, a sly smirk evident in the deep baritone, “don’t wanna.”

A stubborn, possessive side of Seonghwa surprised the both of you, a frustrated huff leaving the younger man’s lips before the other straightened up, regaining his balance on his knees before building up to a pace he knew you enjoyed. Enjoyed, meaning: burning pleasure sent your nerves into overdrive, rolling you over the edge before you could even process the speedy climb, legs closing around San’s hips while Seonghwa continued to fuck himself into your weeping cunt. Your orgasm stretched, face tucked into San’s neck and your thighs quivering violently, hips spasming away from each thrust, only for the firm hands grasping them to pull you closer again.

San simply laid there, eyes shut as he took in the melody playing in his ear—your euphonious voice matching the beat of skin-on-skin—unconsciously rutting his hips into your belly, moaning piteously as you glided over the length of his cock, painfully hard and angry at the neglect.

You wanted to give him attention since, as he said, he’d been so good. But then Seonghwa was unloading within you, making sure every last drop was fucked deep into your womb. “There we go—fuck—my pretty girl, my beautiful darling,” he grinded his cock into your used cunt, eyes fluttering at the loud squelch of your mixed arousal, “taking it all so well, ‘bet you feel so full.”

You nodded lazily, resting limply over San’s body and inhaling the faint scent of bergamot off his skin. As the blinding haze of his orgasm faded, Seonghwa’s possessiveness came into play, eying the tranquillity, the ease in which you allowed yourself to drowse in over another man’s chest. So he disrupted it, veined arms wrapping around your middle to pull you off the firm body and into his own, mooning over the slow turn of your head, the pucker of your lips as you leaned in to plant a kiss onto the plush of his. A reminder of the man settled under you came in the form of a simple muscle twitch, and two heads twisted to gawk at the sight of him: sprawled out on the sheets, milky cum painting his defined abs—the remainder of his load clinging to your abdomen—while he looked up at you through his eyelashes.

Seonghwa huffed out a laugh, an amused smirk curling his lips, “that wasn’t very good of you, was it, Sannie?”

San tilted his head, a smile gracing his feline features while his spent cock twitched in interest, his tone spiked with childish playfulness, “and what are you gonna do about that?”

[copper-16]

Chapter 8 has been posted - but before everyone goes to read, a little bit of an announcement on my end:

This is going to be my last longer Mapi/Ingrid story, and probably the end of me being super active/posting on ao3 and tumblr. I might write the occasional story here and there, but writing is not bringing me the same joy it once was and I want to dedicate my time to other things. I’ll still be around reading on ao3 and somewhat on Tumblr, but I just won’t be posting a whole ton on either. I’ve been so incredibly lucky to get to know all of you guys on here, and to receive so much love for my work. It means the absolute world to me - and thank you all so much for welcoming me into this little community so wonderfully! I hope the stories I wrote were able to bring just a little bit of happiness when you guys needed it (even if I constantly left everyone on cliffhangers - I truly am sorry about that).

The rest of this is long, and you don't have to read it if you don't want to, you can just go ahead to the story now if you would like. I'm not known for my ability to keep concise, that is for certain. If brevity is the soul of wit - perhaps we know why my stories aren't very funny!

I’ve especially enjoyed joining tumblr and really finding a little community here. Getting to interact with so many people, both those who read my works and those who don’t, has been such a joy for me. I love getting to hear when people like the things I've written, even if it touches them in a small way. I love getting to interact with so many brilliant minds and am forever in awe of how much amazing talent there is in this little corner of the internet! I've made some incredible friends from getting to be on here, and it makes me so happy to have a little community of people I love. Thank you guys for letting me have space here even if I don’t write reader works or know how this app works most of the time.

I started writing seriously in September 2022 and I can't tell you how much joy it has brought me in the last two years. As someone who doesn't enjoy the college degree they are currently getting, this was such a fun creative outlet for me. It was so cool to have this blank canvas to work with, to weave things together, especially as I began to write longer stories. Writing was a place to destress for me and interact with other people who loved football as I was coming to love it. Every single kudos, comment, and bookmark meant so much to me. Even when it was something silly like someone dubbing the 'Copper Monologue,' it made me feel so seen. Someone cared enough to read enough of my works to pick out the fact that I do that? Absolutely mind blowing to me. It's crazy to hear that people cared about the silly little stories I wrote. When someone told me that I was one of the things to help inspire them to write their own stuff - I think I properly sobbed. It meant more to me than anything has in this entire world, and it still does! Writing has helped me to process, it's helped me to grow, it's helped me learn to identify my emotions and struggles and think through my own thought processes. I hope that maybe for someone out there, it could help them do that as well. It's a little strange for me not to want to do that anymore. Writing this last story solidified to me that for the most part it was time to be done, and HDITA was more of a goodbye than anything else. But even with that, it feels strange not to be thinking of my next idea, thinking of how I am going to create characters and relationships and plot lines.

I think for me right now, I'm just excited to be myself. Maybe this vessel of writing was what I needed to get myself through the last two years. I wrote la princesa when I was at my absolute worst in life, and as I've grown and matured as a person, I like to think that my writing has. I no longer find myself in a place where it fills a huge void in my own life that I once needed.

I've grown a lot as a writer these few years (those who read my earlier works will understand), and I'm excited to one day come back to it, maybe in a different sphere. I love the idea now of writing a real book. It always terrified me before - I didn't know where I would start or if I would be horrible at it. But you all have given me the confidence that maybe at least one person would like it, and maybe that's enough of a reason to try. So thank you all for holding my hand and encouraging me. I hope that if nothing else, everyone remembers that a little bit of kindness on here or ao3 or anywhere on the internet costs nothing, and yet can go a long way.

It did for me.

But enough of my sappy rambling, please enjoy this last chapter of mine. I hope it brings you as much joy as it brought me when I was writing it. Love you all so so much!

Chapter 8 of How Do I Trust Again?

[idyllic-ghost]

hi! i'm leaving tumblr, and i wanted to put out an explanation post before i do.

i mainly write ff because it's a fun interaction with a fun community. recently it hasn't been so fun.

yes, i'm busy with work so i haven't had time - but even if i did have the time, i wouldn't reach to start writing like i used to. people always say this, but because of lack of interaction (i'm specifically referring to comments and/or reblogs) i've lost interest.

i have a few fics lined up for the next few months, they're all waiting in my queue to be posted once a month up until march. they were all written during the summer or earlier, i've just been putting off posting them. after that, i don't have more, and i'm not sure that there will be more.

i have a lot to say, and i'm not expecting anyone to read it, but if you want to know why i'm leaving then this is it.

(if you've been tagged in this and wonder why, but don't want to read further: don't worry! i didn't tag anyone intentionally, i took from my moots and my taglist to spread the word that i'm leaving this blog. you haven't done anything wrong, and i'm not expecting you specifically to read the rest of this!)

the only reason i stayed on here was because i loved seeing people interact with my writing, it made me happy to see that people enjoy my writing. nowadays, i basically get nothing. since i'm not doing this for anyone but myself, i'm not going to continue doing something that ends with me being disappointed and envious.

my writing feels lifeless to me because i'm not actually interested in what i'm doing anymore. i write, get it done, send it out, and hope that at least someone will tell me that they like it. it feels pathetic to write out, but i feel like some people may agree. the only times i ended up getting that kind of interaction was when i wrote smut.

i was never a smut writer, it wasn't something i was extremely comfortable with. i think there are a lot of people who do it very well, and that's good for them. i'm just not one of them. after being put in sexual situations in my personal life that i, in hindsight, did not feel comfortable with and deeply regret, i don't see myself being comfortable with writing smut again. (the posts with nsfw content that come out in the next few months were written before i came to this realization, for context.)

it's weird and embarrassing when you feel like you'd never fall for pressure of norms and then suddenly you do! i look back at this blog and it doesn't feel like me, and now i get it. it's not wrong or upsetting, just a change of perspectives.

i think it's great that people can write smut and share it on here, and i don't want anyone to think that i am against it. i have simply come to the point where it makes me uncomfortable, so i'm taking myself out of those kinds of situations (as anyone should do if they feel the same way, do not harass people who write smut simply because of its nsfw content that you're personally uncomfortable with). if i do return to writing in this way, in this forum and genre, again, i know that i won't be writing smut.

all of this to say, i'm not going to be on here anymore. i might read a few things here and there, because i do still really love reading fluff from the amazing fluff writers out there, but i won't post. maybe i'll create a new blog for reblogging fluff fics or something. i've lost interest and that's that. i'm hoping that i can write my own book some day, and if i do i've only managed to do so because i got to practice writing on here.

this was fun while it lasted, and i definitely don't regret making this blog. so, thank you to everyone who supported this blog, i've loved reading your comments. thank you to the people who have helped me in my writing, i hope that you know who you are.

tumblr is filled with blank blogs and people who won't comment on fics they actually like. if you ended up reading all of this, i encourage you to go comment on a writer's fic with some nice words. it's always appreciated, i promise.

that's all!

-

tagging a few people so that this post is actually seen:

@enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan,

@userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck,

@fantasy2wonderland, @k-fic-collection @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303,

@lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @svthub @stariightjoyy,

@hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang, @wonuvs,

@dokyeomkyeom, @kyeomiis, @gyuguys, @notevenheretbh1 @iamawkwardandshy,

@wonuskie @kvanity-main

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Regulus Quotes

oh silly little crazed invisible man i love you

“You belong to me. And I belong to you.”

“I’m going to pour myself into your mind like water, filling up the blank spaces. Whispering my love into the quiet corners, tearing down all the walls you’ve built up over your life until you’re open and empty and light.”

“Mine.”

“I’m going to crush every one of your stars in my fist until they’re dust orbiting around the source of your gravity—me.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“I love you so much. I love you enough to do all of this. Because you deserve all of this. I want to give you exactly what you wanted. To never be alone.”

“Please don’t fight.”

“Nothing else matters. Nothing but us. We’re all that matters.”

“I held back because they were my people, I didn’t want to hurt them.”

“You are mine. And I am yours. And we are one.”

“I know you’re scared. That hurts me. I don’t want you to be scared. I don’t want you to be scared of me. But I’m patient.”

“No, I won’t harm him. Just the opposite. I’ll free him. From the burden of knowing what a disappointment he is to you.”

“Love is stronger than fear. And my love will strip away every ounce of fear. Every ounce of resistance until you’re nothing but my love.”

“Remember me, my charge. Remember your Regulus.”

“There is no E’Laetum, there is no Min’Ara. But the feelings that are attributed to them, the warm, happy feeling of their smiles. When I see you, when I hold you, I feel that warmth and that light in my chest. I don’t need Skygods to feel good, I need you.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt him. I’m not cruel. It’s not his fault he’s inferior. His sin is inadequacy, not ill intent. It would be unjust to hold him to a standard he could never possibly reach.”

“It hurts me. Don’t hurt me.”

“Memories are stars. They feel present. They feel close. But they’re not. They’re not. They’re infinitely distant. […] The light that they give, the source died so long ago.”

“I’ll make you free. By making you mine. Even more deeply, ineffably mine.”

“You'll push, but your strength will go out. Mine won't.”

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I want to fix you. You’re broken, but I love you and I want to put you back together the right way”

“I never wanted to fight.”

“I made you mine. You are mine.”

“I’ll take everything every time. In every cycle. In every shape you take. You’re always mine.”

“You don’t need to be enough. You need to be mine.”

“I break you to build you. I shape you and mold you and hurt you to help you. I can be your peace if you’d just let me. If you’d just stop fighting me.”

“You made the wrong choice.”

“I need you I need this I need to be whole again I need just one second of peace why can’t you just give me that—“

“There is no help coming. Help is already here.”

“You’ll choose me. Like I choose you. Every time. In every shape. In every form. I choose you. I’ll always choose you. Always.”

[cellythefloshie]

;; Paths We Didn't Take Dedicated to @wyattjohnston for her birthday bingo

Summary: City girl, Margeaux, had sworn off love after breaking up with her boyfriend of two years. She’s thought he was the one, but instead of a wedding ring, Margeaux was left trying to fill the void he left being. With the help of her friends, she escaped the life she knew in the city. Deep in cabin country, Margeaux struggles to find herself - but it's easier said than done when her high school sweetheart makes an unexpected appearance. Birthday Bingo Tropes: Lake Fic, One-Night Stand, Sworn Off Love, High School Sweethearts, Fish Out of Water, Exes to Lovers, Opposites Attract. Kinks & Tropes: protected sex, it's pretty vanilla (and nowhere near what I usually write for smut, so be gentle with me, I've been out of the game for a while). ABOUT THE OC: Margeaux, face claim: Nicola Peltz. Word Count: 9.6k+ A/N: Demi, I AM SO SO SORRY for how long it took me to write this fic or you for your special day. AND thank you for being so understanding as I reached out to you during my writing process. This fic is a little different from anything I've written before. It's got a lot more pop-culture references than I usually include, and if I really let myself fall into the plot fully, this easily could have been a slow burn novel fulled with so much lake side shenanigans. Just watch, this will be a rabbit hole I fall into often, just like Adam and Charlie..... Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait. Happy Belated Birthday. 🎂

Part One. 

Tears glimmered like diamonds as they traveled over the swell of Margeaux’s cheeks and down into the corners of her lips. Slowly, her tongue licked them away, tasting her own sorrows. And she watched it all in the reflection produced on her phone screen, a live video shared with her thousands of followers live on TikTok. They heard every echo of her footsteps of her empty apartment that had once been filled with laughter, love and her ex-boyfriend’s cologne. Now, it smelt of nothing but the fresh morning breeze that gusts over the rolling waves that crashed up onto Vancouver’s shores. 

Margeaux could smell it as she took an unsteady breath, a desperate attempt at composure, but her eyes were already red and swollen from crying. Her viewers had seen it all, the comments flooded with love. They had lived in that apartment with her through her videos. They had all shared a little piece of her two-year relationship that was now over. Some viewers shared her broken heart, others were angry - as she should have been. He had cheated on her, after all, and they were the first ones to know it. Sending her all the screenshots of evidence. They were all strangers, yet her closest friends. It just made sense to be ending this chapter of her life with them. 

“We’ve been through so much here, haven’t we?” she spoke, her voice breaking as she addressed her growing audience. The comment section flooded so quickly that she couldn’t even read it, “So many adventures, love, headache. We have grown up together here, between these walls.”

Margeaux panned the camera over the sterile white walls that would be the blank canvas of life to the next residents set to move in at the beginning of August. Then Margeaux turned the camera back to herself, her expression soft with sadness but bright with the hope she held for her future. “But I’m done,” she declared, her voice growing stronger. “I’m done with the heartache, the lies, and the broken promises. We’re better than that. We deserve better. I’m swearing off men, and that’s a promise!”

Behind her, Margeaux's words had earned a slow, almost hollow sounding applause that echoed off the large apartment’s empty walls. It drew her gaze bag and tugged her lips into a soft smile. It was Carrie, her best friend, who had returned from carrying the last box down to the can. Margeaux had hoped that she would have been able to sneak in a quick stream while she was gone, but she had been caught up in the moment of it all, leaving Carrie’s eyes rolling upon discovering her. 

“Margeaux, seriously?” Carried scoffed, a single hand raising up to tangle in her curls, “Nobody wants to see you cry on TikTok.”

Margeaux sniffled, wiping away a single tear with the back of her hand, all the while smiling. “You’re right,” she sighed, her shoulders slouching as she looked back to the camera, “I think it’s time I disconnect for a while, guys. We started this journey together in this apartment and achieved so much. But outside of this bubble I’ve made for myself, do we really know who Margeaux Fortin is? Do we know what’s next?” 

She walked to the window slowly, a gust of wind catching her golden hair and tossing it away from her face, that was now free of tears. Her viewing could see her face in full. How her eyes seemed to squint in the breeze, and how her lips parted in a trembling breath. “We don’t. It’s something we will have to discover, but I have to do it alone, friends. I will be back, and I can’t wait to share my new version of me with you all.”

Slowly, her arm lowered, her stream capturing nothing more than the white walls before the stream ended. Margeaux stood by the window in silence, waiting for Carrie to quip in with something charming, but it never came. Turning in place, Margeaux crossed her arms over her chest and held herself firmly as she was met with Carrie’s narrow stare. 

“People really buy all that bullshit?” Her words were laced with a laugh that would have been a firm ‘ha’ if it came to fruition. 

“It’s not bullshit,” Margeaux gripped at the fabric of her own cardigan tightly. 

Carrie had never understood why she devoted so much time to social media and her followers. Margeaux spent the last 2 years of her life living through the screen or her phone or a camera if she were filming something to be posted later, and she was successful with it. Not only had she garnered a mass of followers, she had made many friendships and sponsorships and had experienced things she would have never imagined she could. Yet, Carried was humble, disconnected from all social media, and liked to live in the moment. If they hadn’t been friends since preschool, they probably wouldn’t have been friends at all. 

She had almost lost her a few times too, and Margeaux was glad she hadn’t. Outside her online presence, Carrie was all she had left. 

“Hey,” Carrie left where she stood by the doorway and walked across the room to take Margeaux into her arms. “I know it’s not bullshit… It’s just weird,” she sighed, and when she drew back, Margeaux made sure to give her a smile. 

“It’s all I know,” Margeaux sighed, “but as long as I’m online, as long as my breakup is trendy, I’m just going to be reminded of what he put me through - but I don’t know what else to do, Carrie.”

Carrie’s expression softened, and Margeaux’s heart sank. She was pitying her. 

“I know it’s hard, but you’ll get through this because I know just the thing to help.”

Margeaux raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued, “Oh?”

Carrie smiled, a glint in her eyes that Margeaux couldn’t quite identify. “My friend Mat is coming home for the summer. He’s got a cabin up in the mountains, and he’s invited me to stay there. I’m allowed to bring friends, and Charlotte and Samantha are already on board. You should come with us.”

Margeaux bit down on her lip as she hesitated to answer. This was the first time she had heard of this trip, but she wasn’t surprised. Carrie never invited her out to do anything that involved the outdoors, and that was for good reason. Margeaux hated the heat and the cold, the sun and the rain, the dirt and she hated the bugs more. The scenery itself was beautiful, especially in British Columbia. It was, to put it simply, picturesque, everything she needed for her online presence, but if she went with Carrie, Margeaux wouldn’t be going to make content. She would be trying to find herself. 

“I don’t know,” Margeaux sighed, her tone returning to that soft, disheartened tone she had started her stream with. “You know I’m not exactly the outdoorsy type.”

Carrie raised a single well manicured hand, waving off Margeaux's concerns with ease. “You don’t have to be. It’ll be good for you to get away from all of this for a while. Just think of it as a much-needed forest retreat.”

Margeaux bit her lip as her mind flashed to the image of a rustic cabin in the middle of nowhere. Where mosquitos would feast on her blood, the howl of wolves would keep her up at night and where dirt would stain her spotless white shoes. She cringed as her mind spiraled with just how bad it could be.

What if there was no internet or worse, no air conditioning?

In her mind, it sounded more like torture than somewhere she could go to relax, rejuvenate and find herself after spending years of giving little pieces of herself to her ex just for him to throw it all away. 

Margeaux's shoulders shook with a deep breath that escaped her lips in a sigh. Then she looked around the empty apartment one last time, letting the reality of her situation really sink in. Her boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, had cheated on her. She was moving out of the apartment that was meant to be her home. She was nothing more than an internet personality who was a shell of who she once was. Margeaux needed to move on, to find herself, but she wasn’t going to find it in Vancouver. 

She bit her tongue to keep herself from cursing. Carrie was right. 

“Okay,” she said finally, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “I’ll go.”

Carrie's features grew bright, her jaw slacking as she smiled. She must not have thought Margeaux was going to accept, but she had surprised them both. Margeaux just hoped she wouldn’t regret it. 

“You’re going to love it,” Carrie assured, throwing a single arm around her shoulders to lead her out of the apartment, and the life she was leaving behind. “This summer is going to be exactly what we need. We finally get to have a hot girl summer together.”

Now it was Margeaux’s eyes that were rolling. They hadn’t been single at the same time since sixth grade, but the last thing Margeaux wanted was to go sleeping around. Especially when the wounds of her breakup were still fresh. 

“We’ll see about that,” Margeaux sighed and the weight on her heart began to lift ever so slightly. The apartment with all its memories - good and bad - would be behind her soon, and maybe, just maybe, with a little help, she could find herself again. 

—

The winding mountain road twisted and turned, the dense forest on either side a blur of green as the car sped along with urgency. They had left Carrie’s place behind schedule, and Margeaux was going to be the first to admit that it was her fault. She didn’t know what to pack, so she over packed, and they had spent 30 minutes trying to make sure all her bags would fit. While Carrie’s grip on the steering wheel was tense, Margeaux’s cluelessness hadn’t fully killed the mood. The atmosphere, especially in the back seat, was lively. 

The car vibrated with the base of the hottest song of summer - according to Samantha, who lay sprawled out over the center console as she did her best to outshine Sabrina Carpenter as she sang along with Espresso - albeit off-key. Charlotte sat beside her in the backseat, her phone in hand as she curated just what songs would come next. Margeaux sat in the passenger’s seat, watching as Samantha tapped at the screen on her phone. Jealous. Carrie had taken her phone from her before they got in the car. Margeaux was officially cut off. No more TikTok. No X. Not even Facebook, which was primarily kept to message no one beyond her grandmother. And watching Samantha in the back seat made Margeaux’s skin crawl. It was an itch she wouldn't be able to scratch for the entire weekend, and one that she was struggling to ignore.  

There was snow saving her, or at least that's how she felt as the tapping of Carrie’s fingers against the steering wheel mimicked the racing of her anxious heart. She couldn't even bring herself to sing along with one of her favorite Taylor Swift songs as it blasted through the car. Charlotte cheered as if she were in the front row at the Eras Tour, and Carrie sang like she was performing in front of a crowd of thousands. She sang with so much passion, so much heart. But Margeaux only sunk further into her seat. 

There was an ache in the depths of her chest, one that had begun to gnaw at her ever since the breakup. Sometimes, it felt like it was finally beginning to fade - but being surrounded by her friends, the laughter and the music only numbed the pain. Deep below the surface, she was still hurting and Margeaux was beginning to question if anything could heal her. 

Her phone. 

She needed her phone. 

Lulling her head to the side, Margeaux looked down at the backpack that rested at her own feet. Carrie’s backpack. The one she had confined her phone to at the beginning of the trip as Margeaux was sentenced to be completely isolated from the very lifeline that was her phone. 

Maybe, with Carrie distracted, Margeaux could reach her phone. 

Margeaux slouched in her seat, her bright eyes watching Carrie as she rocked the chorus. 

Her perfectly manicured fingers pinched at the zipper, pulling it open, the very sound of it drowned out by her friend’s vocals. And for a moment, as the bag fell open, Margeaux felt hope, relief- and it was all gone just as quickly as it came as she felt Carrie’s careful grasp coil around her hand. 

Looking up through thick lashes, Margeaux sighed. Carrie’s eyes hadn’t even left the road. “Margeaux, you need this. You need to let you. Just for a little while.” 

Full lips parted, ready to argue - to insist that she was fine - but it all would have been a lie. A desperate attempt to get her life back, but Margeaux had been friends with Carrie long enough to know that it would have been a losing battle. They looked out for one another, they always did, and Carrie was just doing what was best for her, Margeaux knew that. 

“Fine,” she pouted, her arms crossing over her chest childishly. 

Carrie laughed, the tension in the car evaporating slowly as Margeaux became distracted by the scenery as it passed the window in a blur. The singing and laughter were the mere background track of her mind that was still fixated on the anxiety and the dread she was trying to escape. It haunted her for the rest of the drive, her head resting against the car window as she told herself that the complications of her life were behind her now, and that they would be at the cabin soon. 

Soon, she would finally find peace. 

The trees began to thin, and the road opened up to a large clearing at the end of a winding driveway. There was a sight that left Margeaux’s breath catching in her throat. The cabin wasn’t the rustic, rundown shack she had imagined. It was a beautiful, multistory cabin with floor to ceiling glass windows that reflected the surrounding forest and mountains on the skyline. It had a large porch too, one that wrapped around the front and had a towering staircase that led from the driveway up to the front door.  

“Wow,” Margeaux breathed out as she stepped out of the car, taking it all in. “You didn’t tell me we were visiting Edward Cullen.”

Carrie’s lips split into a wide grin, it was clear to Margeaux that her friend was pleased by the shock that was painted all over her face. “Not bad, right?” 

“Not bad at all,” Margeaux agreed, moving to the trunk to grab her bags, “you know, I would have been much more agreeable if I knew this was the kind of cabin we were coming to-”

“What’s the fun in that?” Carrie teased her, helping her unload one of her many bags - a bag that ended up on the ground as they were both startled by a shout from at the top of the steps;

“Carrie!”

Margeaux looked up, her trendy curtain bangs falling into her eyes, as she stood in the driveway left frozen at the sight of the man jogging down the steps towards them. He was tall, with an athletic build on full display, as he was wearing nothing more than a pair of swim trunks. His dark hair was shaggy, hanging down into his eyes, and as he got closer, she could see the easy smile on his face. He was handsome - very handsome - and Margeaux quickly concluded that this must be Carrie’s friend, Mat. 

She watched, still lingering at the trunk of the car, as Carrie reached Mat at the bottom of the stairs. They met in an embrace, Mat’s hands lingering low on Carrie’s back. Margeaux’s brow raised and her head tilt so silently screamed, friend’s my ass. They were fucking. Margeaux didn’t need to be told to know that, and it left a sour taste in her mouth knowing that she had been invited alone to some fuck fest in the woods. 

Her mood changed in an instant as she unpacked the rest of her bags that began to pile up as if she had just gotten off an international light. Margeaux grumbled to herself, her brows heavy and lips pressed into a firm line. And her expression only hardened further as she heard the symphony of footsteps that belonged to Mat’s friends. They too were making their way down to greet them, and while she was curious, Margeaux was mad. Carrie had invited her with the full intention of keeping Mat’s friends busy for the weekend. 

Hot Girl Summer. 

Gripping the handle of one of her bags tight, Margeaux took a deep breath and tried to get her features to relax before she looked up at the trio of men that had made their way down from the cabin, their welcome party. They were making their introductions to Charlotte and Samantha who had already pulled out all the stops when it came to their flirtations and charms - which wasn’t all that difficult when they had driven down not wearing more than a pair of denim shorts pulled over their swimsuits. 

A part of Margeaux hoped that the sights of them alone would be enough to distract the men from her - that Carrie, Charlotte and Samantha would have all of their undivided attention while she struggled to carry her bags up the staircase and then went off to hide somewhere on a lounge chair or a beach to enjoy the sun. And while Margeaux was sure she wouldn’t be lucky enough to disappear, she still tried. She organized her bags with such an ease that only came with the experience of travel, closed up the trunk and slowly rounded the car like a deer trying to creep past a predator. She even kept her head down in an attempt to go unnoticed. 

And she might have been successful if it hadn’t been her own heart that failed her. 

There was a familiar laugh that took the air. It was a low laugh, one that could only belong to a man. But not any man. This was a laugh she had heard countless times before. One that she had coaxed from thin lips, one that made her heart thunder when she was merely sixteen - and even after seven years, it still did. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her ears. It felt like she had just finished a sprint, though she was standing still. And her luggage slipped from suddenly sweaty palms, sending it to the ground in a clamor that brought all the attention to her. 

At that moment, it was all confirmed in front of her. 

Margeaux’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze fixated on the all too familiar face that hadn’t seen her yet. He was laughing at something someone said, and looked just as she remembered him - his smile large, his eyes bright and his hair threatening to curl as it was slicked back with sweat or water - except he was older now, more mature, and even more attractive. 

The need to take even a single breath strangled her lungs, but the shock of the unexpected reunion was heavy on her chest. She hadn’t prepared for this. 

Her high school sweetheart. 

Anthony Beauvillier.

Part Two. 

For the rest of the first day at the cabin, Margeaux had kept herself hidden away in the bedroom that was hers for the weekend. There she followed through with her multi-step self care routine that she always did before bed. Carrie had only tried to bug her once, but Margeaux was quick to dismiss her with nothing more than a scowl. She wasn't joining them by the fire tonight. She wasn't going to drink craft beer and pretend everything was okay. Not when it was all so clearly a setup. But Margeaux could only hide away from Anthony and her friends for so long. 

Come morning, Margeaux was sitting out on the front steps of the cabin with a shoebox in her lap. Inside were a pair of brand-new hiking boots, a purchase she had made more out of necessity than desire. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she carefully removed each of her dainty designer sandals. The thin straps and detailing were a stark contrast to the rugged shoes she was about to put on. Then, she slipped on a clean white pair of socks, opened the shoe box and fought the boots onto her feet. They were tight, uncomfortable even as she would be breaking them in on the post-breakfast hike. 

It was as she was tieing up the laces of each boot that a familiar voice broke through the sound of the morning breeze and chirping of early rising birds. “Those brand new?” 

Squinting her eyes, Margeaux looked up, rose-tinted sunglasses shielding her eyes from the sun that illuminated Anthony from behind like a radiant halo. He stood a few steps away, already dressed for the hike, with a teasing grin on his face. Margeaux knew their paths would cross again. Yet his presence left her heart jolting at the sight of him. 

“Maybe,” she finally replied, her smile turning inwards as she adjusted the laces just right. 

Anthony chuckled, his gaze dropping to her shoes before meeting her eyes again. “You never really were the outdoorsy type.” 

Margeaux stiffened, her shoulders rolling back as they tensed, unsure of how to respond. The comment was innocent enough, and very much the truth, but she didn't like it. It made her feel that she didn't belong there. That Anthony didn't want her to be there. 

“Well, here I am.” 

Anthony smirked as he took a casual stride towards the railing of the deck. He leaned there casually, but his gaze continued to linger on her. “So, what has you all the way out here?”

The question hung heavily in the air, and Margeaux could sense the deeper meaning behind his words. He wasn't just asking about the cabin or Vancouver. He was asking about her life, about how she ended up there. And while the simple answer was Carrie, she was sure Anthony was asking about one thing, but would never actually say the words.

I’m not fucking Mat if that's what you're asking, was what she wanted to say. But Margeaux answered him with less vulgarity, “I dumped my boyfriend, and Carrie thought I could use a change of scenery.”

For a moment, as Margeaux so blatantly stared at him, she thought she saw a flicker of something in his expression. Relief, maybe, or something close to it. But it was gone in the blink of her eyes, replaced by that same teasing smile he had greeted her with. “You’re joining us for the hike?”

“I didn't put on these ugly things for fun,” Margeaux said, wiggling her feet. 

“They aren't supposed to be good looking, Margeaux. They're supposed to be supportive, comfortable,” he told her with a grin that faded as he looked from one side of her to the next. His expression softened slowly, his eyes squinting as if he were trying to find something that wasn't there. 

“What?” she snapped more harshly than she had intended. 

“Where's your bag?” 

Margeaux blinked, her eyes wide and clueless. “Hiking bag?”

Anthony turned in place, his back resting against the railing as his smile fell into a sigh. His band then raised up, carding through his messing morning hair. “You're not carrying anything with you? No water, no snacks, nothing?”

Margeaux perked up in place. She shouldn't have, but she did. She was bringing something. Her hand dropped to her side where her GoPro sat, waiting to be mounted on her chest with a contraption she had bought on Amazon last minute. She held it up for him to see, feeling a little foolish, but happy. It was her only connection to her online persona, and it made her feel a little less anxious as she was about to dive into the world of being outdoorsy - a world she never really wanted to be a part of. 

He was left unimpressed as he pushed off the rail and moved for his bag that rested nearby. There was a thunder of footsteps behind her. It was time to go.

“Just. Stick close to me,” Anthony said, his tone serious as he fell into stride with the rest of the group. 

“What? Why?” she asked, standing up as she fastened the camera over her chest. 

“You're going to need all the help you can get,” he replied, a hint of concern in his voice. 

And while she knew that he was right. His words still stung. 

“No air won't,” Margeaux bit back at him, her confidence forced, but so convincing she almost believed herself. 

He didn't have to look back at her for Margeaux to know that he was smiling. She could hear it in Anthony's words as he spoke, “Alright, Princess. We'll see about that.” 

Hearing her old nickname left Margeaux frozen in place. Each of her friends passed her, but she fixated on Anthony and only Anthony. He had been the only one she let call her that. Not her parents, nor her most recent ex were allowed to - and when he tried, she had shut it down quickly, yet casually, and suggested an alternative. Because it had been something special when Anthony said it. It left her heart fluttering, and her cheeks pink with blush. Even as he said it then, and she was hearing it for the first time in years, she remembered each time he said it before. Quickly, she became the giddy teenager that was undeniably and irrevocably in love with Anthony Beauvillier. 

The feeling was fleeting, gone as quickly as it came, knocked out of her with her breath as a pair of arms flung around her in a tight embrace. 

“What are you waiting for? Let's go!”

It was Carrie. All too chipper, and all too happy for Margeaux to stomach when she could already feel the itch of a mosquito bite on her arm. Besides that fact, Margeaux was still angry that Carrie had put her into this position.

Taking a deep breath, Margeaux shrugged her friend's arms from her body. The quick turn of her head offered her an eye roll and a glare that only brought Carrie to laughter. She knew this would upset her, but knew that keeping it from Margeaux and asking for forgiveness later was easier than trying to convince her to go.

Carrie nudged her as they reached the beginning of the trail, and when she spoke, she kept her voice low so as not to be heard by the rest of the group that led the way. “So,” she licked her lips, “how long are you going to be mad at me for?” 

Margeaux glanced ahead, making sure Anthony was out of earshot. He walked at the front of the pack, making the hike through the Instagram worthy view look so effortless as she tripped over rocks. She watched as he tried to dodge a branch of a pine tree; the bristles brushing against the fabric of his shirt. As she walked in his wake, she could smell the scent of it in the air. Pine mixed with dirt, mixed with the sunscreen on her face that had already begun to run into her eyes as sweat dripped off her brow. 

Her eyes squinted, her nose wrinkling too at the discomfort as she spoke, “I think 4 years would suffice. You know, the amount of time Anthony and I dated in high school.” 

He had been playing for the Shawinigan Cataractes when Margeaux had met him. So sweet, and so shy, she had to make the first move. They had been inseparable since that moment. That was until he was called up to the NHL by the Islanders. He moved to New York; she moved to Vancouver. Slowly, even after their efforts, they lost touch. Margeaux told herself it was just how things were meant to be. The two of them, just highschool sweethearts, never meant to be more than her first love. But now she wasn't so-

“He's single, you know?” Carrie broke through her thoughts.

“How do you-” Margeaux spoke quickly, her tongue tripping over her words as she couldn't follow a single train of thought, “what is he even doing here? Did you invite him?”

“No,” Carrie held up both hands as if to plead her innocence, “he's Mat's old teammate. They're still close friends. I didn't find out he was coming until a few days before.”

“But you didn't tell me,” Margeaux bit out. 

“I didn't,” Carrie hummed, “but” she added in a sing-song tone, “I bet it's nice seeing again.”

“It is,” she admitted, “in a way, I guess. But it doesn't mean I forgive you. Not when I know you only invited us out here to keep his friends busy during your weekend booty call.” 

Carrie didn't even blush. She had no shame as she leaned in and kissed Margeaux on the cheek before she ran off to the middle of the pack where Mat was walking. 

It left Margeaux alone at the back of the pack, falling further and further behind as they followed the trail. It grew steeper with every stride, and Margeaux's legs began to ache. While she loved her pilates, her body was in no way trained for the long hike. Her breath became short, her gasps quiet as she did her best not to draw attention to herself. Each step was a struggle as she began to question just how far she could go. Yet, she didn't ask for help. 

She didn't have to. 

With her eyes fixated on the ground, Margeaux jumped in surprise at the sound of the sudden but softly spoken. “Here” that met her ears. Looking up, she found Anthony walking beside her. He had noticed her struggling and had fallen to the back of the pack, with the mouthpiece of his water bladder in hand. He offered it to him with a soft, concerned smile. “You look like you could use this.”

Her pride was bruised, yet Margeaux took the mouthpiece and accepted her defeat. They paused in the middle of the trail and she took a long drink that soothed her dry throat. When she pulled back, Margeaux was sure she could see the gratitude written all over her face. “Merci,” she muttered, handing it back. 

Anthony smiled. 

“We're almost to the top,” he encouraged. “The hike back will be easier.” 

Margeaux nodded, raising a hand to wipe the sweat off her brow. She was too tired to speak, but his reassurance gave her the strength to keep going. They walked together in silence, the sound of their footsteps lost in the faint laughter of their friends in the distance. 

They followed the sound; the laughter growing louder and louder until they reached the peak of the trail together. The trees parted into a clearing that looked down over the sprawling forest around them and left endless blue skies free from their shade. Margeaux could feel the hot sun on her skin, but the summer breeze cooled her. And she smiled. 

“See,” Anthony nudged her casually, “worth the effort, right?” 

She looked back over her shoulder at him, still smiling. “Yeah.” 

He stood at her side, their backs to the rest of the group as they admired the view from the peak of the trail. The group all linger there for a while, sharing conversation and refueling for the descent. But Margeaux only spent her time with Anthony, sharing his water and casual conversation. Even as they walked back to the cabin, they walked side by side, his arms finding her when she stumbled. Margeaux was relieved by the time they reached the cabin steps. But she was also feeling something new. Something that felt a little like excitement, a little like hope, and she knew it was all because of Anthony. 

Part Three.

The hot day faded into a cool, starry night. Margeaux had insisted that she was going to go straight to bed, but with a little convincing, she was pulling on her sweatshirt and joining the group out back by the lake where there was a fire pit. The flames danced, and the wood crackled, releasing sparks into the darkness above. 

The fiery embers danced in the breeze and Margeaux watched them until they were lost among the stars. The air was engulfed by the scent of wood-smoke, tainting the fresh air that almost left Margeaux dreading that they would be going back to the city come morning. She was just starting to like this place, though she was sure that wouldn't have been the case if Anthony wasn't there. 

He had been as sweet as the gooey marshmallow and melted chocolate sandwiched between graham crackers that oozed between her fingers. An insatiable delight that only left her wanting more than they sat side by side around the fire. Anthony had her laughing. He had her forgetting the reasons she had agreed to go out to the cabin. It was like a weight was lifted from her shoulders. The heartache, the uncertainty, and the anxiety were all gone, but it left all the room for dread. 

It hit her like a truck the moment she felt something crawling on her leg. It left her heart heavy as she tried to ignore it. Margeaux told herself that it had to be another harmless insect. She even reached a hand down, swatting the air, but the sensation persisted. It sent shivers down her spine, and when she looked down, she saw it - a small, dark tick making its way up her leg. 

Shooting up from her seat, Margeaux shouted the first thing that came to mind as she tried to shake the bug off her leg, “Anthony!”

Anthony, who had been sitting right beside her, dropped down so that he knelt in the dirt. The flickering flame illuminated his features, and even in the intensity of its light, he was calm. He reached out with both hands, her body becoming still in an instant as he searched for the tick. “It hasn’t latched on yet. Hold still.”

Margeaux held her breath, her lungs burning deep in her chest, as she stood there frozen as Anthony reached for the tick. His fingers were gentle but sure as he plucked the tiny tick from her skin. He held it up briefly for her to see that it was in her hold, before tossing it into the fire, where it disappeared with a faint sizzle. 

“It’s gone,” he reassured, but then his face wrinkled, “but there might be more. You should check yourself over, just to be safe.”

Her heart surged as she was hit by another wave of panic. The thought of more ticks crawling on her skin left her on the verge of tears as she nodded quickly. She was struggling to keep her composure. “I don’t think I can. Could you?”

Anthony hesitated, his throat clearing as he looked at each of his and her friends. Then, he ran his hand over his jawline before giving a small nod, “alright, let’s go inside.”

They left the warmth of the fire together, Margeaux’s quick steps leading the way. She didn’t stop until they were enclosed by the shadows of the bedroom. It was quiet there, the amber glow of the table top lamp at her bedside. It was too intimate; she decided quickly, but not even turning on the overhead light erased the feeling of uneasiness that came with the reality of what she told him to do. 

Margeaux’s hands trembled slightly as she undressed, peeling off her clothes layer by layer until she stood in nothing but her bra and underwear. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but also annoyed. Her bra and panties didn’t match, and were far from cute - but she hadn’t exactly planned for anyone else to see them. Especially not Anthony. 

But he didn’t seem to notice as he turned around from closing the door behind her, and if he didn’t, he didn’t comment on it. Anthony was completely quiet as he approached her. He stood in her shadow, his hands reaching out to rest on her shoulders with such a gentleness Margeaux held her breath. “You ready?”

Margeaux nodded, giving him the permission he needed to continue. He checked her carefully, his hands moving over her skin with a touch that was both methodological and tender. His hands didn’t linger in any place too long, but Margeaux’s skin was lit ablaze as it lingered. She could feel it burn down her arms, her back and even her legs. But it was only as his fingers reached the band of her bra that Margeaux held her breath. 

“Sometimes,” Anthony’s words were a mere whisper, “sometimes they like to hide here,” he explained softly. 

Margeaux nodded slowly, her throat too tight to speak. She didn’t give him the time to undo it himself. Instead, she reached behind her and unclasped the bra for him. She could hear it hit the floor, her eyes going shut at the sound, and she turned slowly to face Anthony. 

When she opened her eyes, Anthony’s face was a deep shade of red, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he reached out with careful, respectful hands, and he continued his search. He stroked along the impression the bra had left behind on her skin and caressed the underside of her breasts. 

It left her shuddering. 

Margeaux hoped he didn’t notice. 

“There’s nothing,” Anthony finally said, his voice soft as he met her eyes. 

Margeaux let herself breathe again, relieved. “Thank you.”

That should have been his queue to leave, for Margeaux to pull away and find her clothes, but neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke, either. They just shared a soft gaze. Margeaux’s heart pounded in her chest as she let herself realize a single face: The connection they had shared years ago was still there. She felt it; it was undeniable. Maybe he felt it, too. 

Margeaux reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm, and she watched his shoulders tense as his breath hitched. For a moment, it seemed like time stood still. The world outside their small quiet room was forgotten, and Anthony was dropping to his knees. 

“There’s one last place I can check,” he whispered, his eyes not once leaving hers. 

Anthony’s hands reached out, taking hold of her hips carefully. His thumbs stroked over the soft cotton fabric, moving back and forth so slowly it was almost painful. 

Margeaux squirmed in place, pressing her thighs firm together before relaxing at the feeling of him dragging the fabric down her legs slowly. The fabric teased her skin on the way down, sending Margeaux’s head lulling back and her eyes fluttering shut. She could only feel him then, as the careful touch of his hands found her inner thighs. He stroked the skin carefully, as if he were still checking for ticks, but then she felt his hot breath. 

She felt his mouth. 

Margeaux gasped, his kiss hot as it worked its way so close to the apex that her legs trembled. Anthony braced her legs with the strength of his arms, keeping her upright. It was enough to make her whine as she reached out with both hands, her fingers finding his dark curls to knit into. 

The simple touch drew him in closer, his hot breath ghosting over her sweet heat just long enough for her core to clench before he was guiding each of her legs over his shoulders. He picked her up with such effortlessness, his face pressed against her pelvis and her belly as he carried her across the room and laid her out on her half made bed. 

Its soft impact had Margeaux's eyes shooting open, taking in the sight of the ceiling as Anthony kissed a burning trail up her body and into her view. He hovered over her for a moment, his own chin slick with saliva, before leaning in and kissing her in a way they never had as teenagers. 

They had been so young and inexperienced back then. So eager and impatient to kiss, and to fuck, that the only feeling was one of ecstasy. But they were older now, grown up in so many more ways than just physically. Which was why she moaned when he did something as simple as stoking her skin and gasped when she felt two fingers press against her clit. 

They moved in a slow circle as he kissed her, her body beginning to coil with the pleasure of his touch. Margeaux’s breasts heaved as she threw her head back into the pillows, her hands tugging blindly at the fabric of his shirt, and his short, that she wasn't going anywhere without his help. 

Anthony eased back, tugging his shirt free first and tossing it aside. His hand dropped to his shorts next, but Margeaux was sitting up, her mouth taking its own assault on his stomach and abs. She could feel his chuckle on her lips before it left his laced in his words, “lay back, Princess.”

She melted away from him like chocolate, her body sprawling out and legs spread as he shimmied off the bed and discarded his shorts on the floor. He was gone so long, Margeaux felt cold, but when he returned, she pulled him closer and closer just to stay warm. Legs intertwined, and her arms reached around him so her manicure could claw at the strength of his shoulders as he eased into her. Her gasp was swallowed by his kiss as his hips rolled. Margeaux met his every tender movement as he remembered exactly what she liked and discovered more. It left her trembling with the climax of her pleasure as his one hand reached to cradle the back of her neck. His thick fingers knitting in her blonde strands, drawing her forehead up to rest against his. It was his tell. He was about to come. Margeaux grinned, her core coaxing him to the very peak of his pleasure, his mouth left gaping with a silent moan. 

They were both left smiling when they were through, Margeaux’s hands reaching out to stroke through his sweaty curls. Anthony was still buried deep within her as he turned his head just enough to kiss the supple skin of her palm. He was sweet, too sweet, and Margeaux almost hated it. He hadn’t changed a bit in the seven years they were apart. Yet, there she lay, feeling like herself for the first time in a long time. 

It left her dizzy as he rolled out of bed, her body anchoring itself to the blankets beneath her as if merely being void from him was going to leave her floating away. She lay there in the bed, listening to Anthony as he moved about the room. Margeaux didn’t know exactly what he was doing. She didn’t think to look, but as he turned off the lights, she was sure he had to be collecting his things so he could leave. But the opening and closing of the door never came. Instead, it was the squeaking of the springs to meet her ears as he crawled into her bed. 

Margeaux cuddled close to him, her head on his chest as she looked at the wall across from them. She could see that the firelight had died. Their friends had turned in for the night. There was no bonfire for them to run back to. With no obligations, they lay there together in silence, avoiding any heavy conversation they could have had. They lay with their bodies intertwined, Anthony’s hand stroking up and down the length of her back slowly and Margeaux’s head resting on his chest. There, she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, and it was the last thing she heard as she let herself drift off to sleep. 

Part Four.

The last morning at the cabin dawned with a bittersweet quiet. The sun cast a warm golden glow over the trees that cast sprawling shadows into the bedroom where Margeaux had regrettably spent most of her weekend. The first day she had isolated herself completely, spending day and night in the bedroom. The second day, she had let Carrie pressure her into the hike, and the second night she spent with Anthony. But waking up next to him, his warm skin still within her reach as the sun’s light shined down across his features left Margeaux wanting more. 

She wanted more time with her friends to take in the serene beauty of the forest that left her feeling like she was living in a dream. She wanted to learn how to chop up firewood, to forage or even to paddle board if she was feeling bold enough. But most of all, she wanted to spend time with Anthony. To continue playing her little game of what if they hadn’t grown apart all those years ago…

What if she had followed him to New York?

Would they have gotten married?

What if she had reached out when he had been traded to Vancouver? 

Would she have been the cheater instead of the one who had been cheated on?

What if they didn’t have to say goodbye? 

Would he even message her back if she tried?

Margeaux shut her eyes tight, fighting back the tears that began to build. She had come out there for answers, but she seemed to be leaving with even more. Yet, Margeaux answered the most important one she had: What comes next for me? 

The answer was that Margeaux didn’t know what would be next. There was no way for her to tell. Whatever she could imagine happening would be faced by too many unknowns caused by chance or by fate, would alter her course. There would always be a path she didn’t take. 

Margeaux let her tears fall in hot streams that lead down to the corners of her relieved smile. She tasted the salt of her tears with her tongue as she licked them away, only for the palms of her hands to come up to finish the job. 

Anthony rolled over in bed next to her, his hand coming down on her shoulder gently as he spoke, his voice heavy with concern, “hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Margeaux nodded, “I’m okay.”

They lay there for a moment, the silence heavy. Neither of them spoke, Anthony’s mouth on Margeaux’s shoulder just breathing in the very scent of her. And Margeaux hid her face in the pillows, her eyes shut tight and her chest aching. She wasn’t ready to leave - she wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 

But then, Carrie took the moment she had to do it away from her. She came bursting through the door with little care as to what Margeaux was doing. Eyes on her phone, Carrie was talking before she could even look at Margeaux and Anthony, who nobody knew she had taken to bed, “get up bitch,” she said endearingly. “It’s time to go home. Oh, and I have this for you, consider it a reward for playing nice with Anthony all weekend for me.”

She reached into the pocket of her daisy dukes and drew out Margeaux's phone. Carrie tossed it towards the bed, and her eyes following its course right to where it landed at Anthony's feet. 

“Oh, fuck!” she stumbled back as she shrieked, “I’m so - fuck - sorry!” 

“I’ll be right down!” Margeaux called out after her, her own voice weak with embarrassment. 

Margeaux hadn’t planned on being caught. 

Stumbling out of bed, Margeaux grabbed the clothes that were lost on the floor the night before, and shoved them into her never unpacked bag. She rummaged through it, grabbing a pale yellow sundress and polling it over her bare body. Then Margeaux did something she would quickly regret. She expertly grabbed every single one of her bags and left without even a glance. 

It wasn’t until she was standing at the trunk of the car, yet again in the predicament of trying to make everything fit, that Margeaux looked back at the cabin. She wore a soft smile, thankful that Carrie had convinced her to come, and it only grew as Anthony stumbled out onto the deck in nothing more than the same pair of shorts he had worn the night before. He hadn’t even stopped to put on shoes, which Margeaux was sure he regretted the moment his feet hit the gravel driveway. But that didn’t stop him from walking straight down the driveway to her. 

He stood close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, and smell the familiar scent of him without it having to get caught in the breeze. The air between them was thick with both humidity and the words left unspoken - anything they wanted to say, they had to say it now.

Finally, Anthony was the one to break the silence. “You all packed up?”

Margeaux almost winced. They had always had an effortlessness about them, but for the first time, it was as if neither of them knew what to say. 

“Yeah, just have to work the last suitcase in,” Margeaux gestured to the car before crossing both arms over her chest. 

There was another pause, filled by the rustle of leaves, the clamor of suitcases as they fell out of the trunk, and Carrie’s string of curses as she was left to play Tetris with the suitcases again. Anthony glances at her, trying to hide a smile as he leaned in one step closer to Margeaux and slipped his hand into his pocket. When he pulled it out, he was grinning ear to ear. “Well, I think you forgot this.”

Margeaux looked down, her face going bright red at the sight of her panties in his hand. “Anthony!” she spoke in a hushed whisper as both hands went to him. She pushed them back down, hiding the light cotton fabric back in his pocket. She let them fall there, loose in the fabric of his pocket, and pulled his hand free to hold. 

“I’ve had enough embarrassment for one day,” she smiled. 

Anthony laughed. Then he smiled as he spoke again, changing the subject as he did, “I’m glad you came… And I’m glad we got to spend some time together.”

Margeaux felt a heavy lump form in the back of her throat. One that she swallowed back with her smile. “Me too. It’s been… it’s been really good for me.”

Anthony took away the remaining space between them and captured her in a tight embrace. His arms were strong and comforting around her, and as much as she should have pulled away, Margeaux let herself sink into the hug. She held him, knowing that it very well may be the last time. She closed her eyes, trying to take a mental picture of the feeling of him, and listened to the steady beat of his heart harmonizing with hers. 

“Thank you Anthony,” her voice trembled as she buried her face into her neck, “for helping me find myself again.”

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. Nothing he could say could mean as more to her than what he had done for her in the limited number of hours they got to be with one another, and he knew that. She knew he did. She could feel it in how he held her tighter, in how his hand so gently stroked through her messy blond hair and down the length of her back. And when they finally pulled back, she could see it in his eyes, too. His gaze was soft and his eyes bright, but the smile he gave her didn’t reach his eyes. 

Maybe he was feeling the same heaviness in his chest too–maybe he didn’t want to say goodbye…

��Take care of yourself, Margeaux,” he told her softly. 

“I will,” she promised, her voice heavy with the emotion she choked to the very back of her throat, “you too–and good luck next season, wherever you end up.”

Anthony nodded, and for a moment looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached out with one arm and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered there against her skin for a moment, a soft barely there touch before he pulled back and smiled a little wider. This time, Margeaux saw it reach his eyes as he gave her one last lingering look before he turned and walked back up the steps, leaving Margeaux standing by the car as the trunk came down in a sudden thud as Carrie closed it. 

Margeaux jumped in place, her hand lurching to rest over her heart. It raced hard, pounding against the inside of her ribcage as her head snapped to look at her best friend. Carrie was grinning widely, devilishly. “Sorry, did I kill the moment?”

“Moment?” Margeaux’s voice broke. “What moment?”

Did she mean the moment she watched Anthony go, her chest heavy with the weight of their goodbye? Or the part of her that stood there, waiting to see if she herself would call out to him to extend their reconnection beyond their brief reunion in the forest. 

Either way, Margeaux would deny it all if Carrie asked, because she couldn’t even be honest with herself. It was easier that way. She wasn’t ready for another relationship, not now, not so soon after everything that happened. And Anthony? He was a comfort, a reminder of who she used to be when things were simpler, when love was just about date nights at the movies and the fairy tale worlds they thought would come after highschool. 

But so much time had passed, and as much as she still loved him, and always would, they would never be what they once were. Surely, they have changed too much, and the paths they were on led in different directions. 

“You got everything packed up?” Margeaux asked Carrie with a smile, “I need to get out of here. I don’t think I could survive another mosquito bite.”

“Yeah,” Carrie smiled as she moved to stand by the driver’s side, “so get your ass in the car and start a playlist.”

Margeaux's heart jolted with excitement. Her phone! She had her phone! Reaching into her back pocket, Margeaux brought her phone to life with the long hold of the power button. Carrie had kept the battery charged, and for that Margeaux was thankful. The itch to check her social media consumed her body as she got into the passenger’s seat, with Charlotte and Samantha both seated behind her. Instead, she opened her Spotify, put on Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan, and it became their soundtrack as the car pulled out of the drive. She dropped the phone to her lap as she moved along with the music in her seat. 

The buttons hit her lap just right, taking a screen capture of her playlist. Instead of letting it be, Margeaux picked up her phone and went to her gallery to remove it. It was there she saw pictures she had never known were being taken. A collection that started from the moment she had arrived at the cabin, right down to the very moment Anthony had taken her inside the night before to check her for ticks. Carrie had captured every little moment, and Margeaux hadn’t noticed, not even once. 

Margeaux’s lips parted in a wavering breath as she looked at Carrie in the driver’s seat. She was wearing a cheeky grin. 

“Thank you,” Margeaux smiled. 

“You’d do the same for me,” Carrie blew her a kiss playfully, “besides, it’s the least I could do for dragging you out to my booty call and actually getting laid!”

The girls in the back hollered. Samantha even reached around the passenger’s seat and nudged her playfully. But Margeaux paid no mind to it all. Instead, her eyes had found the rearview mirror, and watched as Anthony and the cabin grew smaller and smaller in the rearview until it was nothing more than photos on a screen.  

She had gone to the cabin with her heart broken, but as they drove away, she felt something new. A quiet strength, a sense of peace - she was healing, and it was because of Anthony. Smiling, Margeaux rested her head on the cool glass of the window, tilted just right to have the air conditioning hit her face just right and she put together a playlist that would carry them back home. To the city where she would forge her next path alone and Margeaux, she was ready to embrace it. 

TAGLIST: @equallyshaw , @mp0625 , @charles11700 , @swissboyhisch , @wingedwheelprxncess , @luvmarner , @fandomrejects , @misunderstoodwerewolf , @callsign-denmark , @puckmaidens , @cixrosie , @starshine-hockey-girl

[krokusplays]

The Kindest Thing

Jing Yuan x Reader

Rating: Gen

Words: 611

Tags: Angst, no happy ending, rejection, sometimes love just isn't enough, Reader is human

Author's note: I've been hit by Jing Yuan feels, but I've been in an angsty mood. I just couldn't get this out of my head. I hope you like it.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

The words pierced your heart like shards of ice. The cold they left behind prickled along your spine, wiped your mind blank until nothing but a numbing ache remained that found its way deep inside your soul.

“Forgive me. While I am deeply grateful for the joy you’ve brought to my life and I do find myself longing for these tender emotions, I cannot allow myself to pursue this path for us.”

These words repeated themselves in your head over and over again as you stood in front of him. Each time the meaning behind them settled deeper within your soul. Tears sprang free from your eyes before you even noticed the burning sensation but there was nothing you could do or say for a long time.

You wanted to ask why, wanted to know what’s stopping him. If the feelings were mutual, then why would he not…? Yet, not a single word left your lips.

It felt so selfish to you. Would he rather spend his time thinking about what could have been instead of experiencing it himself? Why not indulge, why not embrace these feelings and spend your time with someone by your side?

But…

Weren’t you just as selfish?

Clinging to his words, to his confession, disregarding anything else he has told you, ignoring everything you knew about him and his life.

He’s been through too much.

You would spend a - your - lifetime with him and one day find your end after a happy and fulfilling life, while he had to go on. He had to live with the grief of losing the one he loved with centuries that lay ahead of him and a hole in his heart that might never be filled again.

How could you dare to want him to put aside all his worries, all his fears, and the sole wish to not get hurt again, because you couldn’t stand the thought of being apart from him?

After all these years of witnessing loved ones leave and die, he wanted to save himself from the inevitable pain after your passing. He knew how heavy this pain could be and if he made the decision that a few years of happiness did not outweigh the cost, then you had no right to push him onto another path.

You bit your lower lip but inhaled audibly, trying to keep yourself from breaking into sobs and for the tears to stop.

When you finally dared to look up at him again you saw all the anguish, the guilt, the longing, the love, and the intensity of it rendered you breathless. All it left you with was a powerful and yet, agonizingly painful realization that this hurt him just as much as it hurt you.

But he was strong enough to push it all aside, to burden you both with the pain of a goodbye, knowing that it would come to pass, that it would not linger like the hole a gone loved one left behind.

Even though it tore your heart apart, you smiled up at him. A genuine and heartfelt gesture that didn’t manage to hide how you felt with your skin flushed and the trails of your tears still on your cheeks. But you held your ground. For the kindest thing you could do for him now was to let him go and spare him the inevitable pain of losing you one day.

“Goodbye, Jing Yuan,” you said softly but with a steady voice.

If he ever came to regret it you would never know.

Yet, you would never forget the look of sorrow in those golden, beautiful eyes as you turned around and left.

[vivispec]

I FINISHED (veilguard endgame spoilers under the cut)

ouch :')

My thoughts are not coherent in the slightest. I'm REELING. It's midnight thirty on a work night so bear with my ramblings~~ 🐻

First and foremost, that fight between the archdemon and the Dread Wolf was everything I wanted from this game. Seriously, they are speaking directly to my monster loving heart here. I loved the sfx, the animations as you climb to the throne, ALL OF IT. I'm so giddy over it all. When I first picked up the egg I would've never expected him to become such a beautiful monster man to add to my collection, yet here we are! Best timeline.

I think I'm going to have to headcanon quite a bit for the ending for Viera and Solas, she's got a lot to lose that I don't think she'd walk away from forever...but I want them to be together 🥲 I wonder if the consensus is they're trapped in the Fade? Or...? I'll have to start brainstorming if she is trapped, I'd maybe like to play around with her being able to communicate with/ through her twin soul. UGH I don't KNOW. Considerations...

Losing Lace broke my heart. I didn't realize, I thought everyone would be ok if I had them maxed... but then, I think it's more impactful this way. Owowow

My complaints are 1. The romance felt a bit undeveloped (lots of potential unrealized) 2. Some of the ending felt a bit rushed/unpolished and 3. I can see the outrage against the secret end credits, while I personally am excited to see what's going on across the sea with the Executors the execution (teehee) feels like they fumbled it a touch. I'm still very happy with what we got though, and in excited to fill in the blanks myself for those first two.

Going to pass out. Dream of solavellan. Don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself now but we'll find out together.

[itsnotgray]

should’ve seen it coming | cole caufield

what if grumpy x sunshine didn’t work out?

never saw myself writing for cole, but i asked @fantillisdaylight for a few players and i liked this …thing? more than i thought i would. so yeah, hope you guys enjoy!

~

what if sweet, ball of sunshine cole started going out with this grumpy, not so easily impressed girl.

and for a while, it’s perfect, just like all the movies- but then reality sets in.

their differences that they thought they could move past, were too big for the couple to overcome.

cole, who feels like he can’t be anything but sunshine. with her hardened demeanor, he’s terrified that if he gives in to how he really feels, she may not be able to console him.

and she, who feels so intimidated at the thought of letting cole into her head. she’s the complete opposite of sunshine- and the idea of letting cole into the storm cloud she calls her brain is frightening.

eventually, it all comes to a head after a bad game. he comes over to her apartment, hoping her presence can work its magic like usual. but it can’t. cole’s upset, he’s been upset, and he can’t be bothered to hide it anymore.

“cole i’m here to help you-“ she starts, before she’s cut off.

“are you really though? because you don’t seem like it. most people that want to console someone don’t stand there with that blank fucking look on their face,” he bites back, frustration bubbling off of him like steam off a boiling pot of tea.

and she recoils, because there it is. it always happens eventually. she can’t be as expressive as her partner wants her to, and they leave, frustrated that something as simple as a smile or enthusiasm is so hard to draw out from her.

“i’m trying cole, i swear i am. i want to help you, i mean it. let me be there for you,” she begs, trying to stop the outcome she can sense is looming on the horizon.

but he can’t. he’s frustrated, he wants to advertise his fears, his struggles, but that fear of his emotions being too much for her to cope with creeps up again. and so he shuts down, putting up walls he didn’t know he had.

“just- forget it. we’re done here,” he frustratedly lets out.

“what do you mean we’re done here cole? you’re clearly upset- let me be there for you,” she exasperatedly states, tears of frustration building at being stone walled by her normally joyful boyfriend.

“not just here. we’re done, period. i can’t do this anymore,” he says, headed to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, hoping that’ll cool the accumulated rage that’s been simmering inside of him for so long, silenced by his need to keep up happy-go-lucky appearances.

his hand grips the cup tightly, as he quietly mutters “i’ll sleep on the couch and be gone by the morning.”

“cole, i- why the hell are you- forget it. clearly i never meant jack shit to you if it’s that easy to call it quits,” she says, mostly to herself, storming off to her bedroom, only letting her tears fall once her back is turned to the boy, who’s walls are now crumbling as he sobs quietly in the kitchen.

but his walls, defense mechanisms he’s never really engaged before, make one final move at protecting his heart.

“fucking avoid it like you usually do. real fucking nice that our relationship is crumbling before our eyes and you can’t utter one fucking word that makes it seem like you’ve ever given a shit,” he practically yells into the darkness of her house, but despite the darkness, the words reach her ears.

there it is. the final nail in the coffin. at his rage-filled words, her back hits the door, hand coming up to muffle the cries building in her throat, emotions begging to come out and scream “i’m here, i promise! she may hide me, but im here!”

her hand is practiced in the action though, and her cries of despair never reach the air.

two lovers that in any perfect world could worked.

two lovers torn apart by a beast that king eurythesus should’ve forced hercules to face in his labors, for then the hero surely wouldn’t have been successful.

a beast by the name of miscommunication.

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: vincent sees a masterpiece in you.

WARNINGS: None!! :D

COMMENTS: GAHHH SHUT UP OKAY SHUT UP. HE'S SO KIND. i havent played hsi route yet but i am brainrotting a little. also i was inspired by myself because i realized how animated i am and i was immediately like "omg an artists muse" bc WOW all my facial expressions and body language could give an artist a career I MOVE TOO MUCH!!!!

anyway yes he's sweet but i don't really know a lot about him. do vincent kissers even exist!??!?!?!

An artist at heart, he’s accustomed to noticing the beauty of everything around him. From the way your eyes widen when you’re surprised to the way they crinkle when you’re happy, from the way your lips stretch across your face when you smile at him to the way they purse when you pout, from the way you drag your hands down your arms when you’re cold and trail them down your legs when you’re stretching, to the way your fingers position themselves around a pen when you’re scribbling out annotations in a cookbook.

Or maybe, he’s just become accustomed to noticing your beauty.

“Vincent.” you call, “You’re staring.”

He makes a soft noise of acknowledgment and flashes you an awkward smile. His eyes fall to the notepad in front of him, and he ignores the way his cheeks flush a tender pink. It’s a lovely feeling, the pitter-patter of his heart in his chest and the shaky breaths that come with knowing you.

He’s in awe of the artist that sketched you out and brought you to life. He's envious of the paints that colored you in. Vincent wishes there was a part of you for him in your masterpiece, a blank space that only he could fill. He would fill you with blues and yellows and browns, he would paint the night sky in your eyes and sunflowers along your legs. Each petal would be delicately sketched out along the flesh of your thigh, and his paintbrush would travel down your calves as he sculpted the stems. He would worship you like you deserve, treat you with reverence, and treasure you like nobody else could.

“Sunflower.” you whisper, right next to his ear, “Are you alright?”

Vincent snaps out of his trance once again, an easy smile falling across his lips. His chair groans against the floor as he pushes away from the table, staring up at you as you stand in front of him.

“Of course. I’m sorry for worrying you.” he says softly, looking up at you through his lashes, “Did you say something?”

“Nothing important.” you smile, like you know exactly what he’s been thinking.

You probably do. Vincent blushes, ducking his head to the side so you can’t see his face.

“Can you come to my room later? After you’re done here?” he asks, reaching out to touch you.

His hands rest on your hips, and you let him pull you closer. Your eyes are full of intrigue, and he knows you'll say yes, but he needs to hear the words from your lips.

“Of course.” you hum, leaning down to his level, “I wouldn’t go anywhere else.”

You kiss his forehead, and his heart stumbles in his chest. Right there, he sees it. He sees you. You’re made up of so many shades of color that belong to everyone you’ve ever met and loved, but right there, on your lips, are swirls of gold and blue.

And as you pull away, he sees sunflowers in your heart.