#sorry for wasting your time with the most pointless story ever

[alamwamal]

I don't remember anything about chemistry not even the basic stuff but this channel is kind of fun.

@muslimintp-1999-girl I don't know if you know them but I think you might enjoy their content.

[ohdeerfully]

hi! I have a request, I've never really done this before but I'll give it a shot. so my request is that Charlie is tasked by heaven to watch over a very special human soul via a device that is like a full 360 VR kind of setup and this soul just so happens to be Alastor's immortal wife (he didn't know she was) whom he thought had died with him during a bad event and wound up in heaven but she didn't and She stayed the same since the 1930s like her looks stayed the same and her love for Alastor stayed too she never once tried to move on even when her new friends in this time tried to get her a guy but she just refused still wearing the wedding ring her gave her

I hope it's not too much to ask it can be changed to whatever you see if you have full creative control over it!

thank you for your brain anon

theres a couple awkward POV shifts in the story and im super duper sorry about that D: im not good at those

An Eternity

alastor x reader (angst) TW: reader is female, reader gets a lil drunk and drives but shes fine(i do not condone this pls dont drink and drive im so serious), yearning goes ouchie ):

join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

Alastor rarely, if ever, talked about his time alive. He saw it pointless; a waste of time and energy. How could it benefit him if somebody else knew his history? If anything, it would only open up weak points. And, being an Overlord, he couldn’t afford that.

The only hint of his past was a band on his finger that he never took off. Even after decades in Hell, nobody saw him without it.

People often asked, of course, because how in the Hell did the Radio Demon get hitched? Even in life, he was probably just as unusual and off putting. These questions were always met with a dismissive wave and a laugh, but anybody who knew him—which wasn’t many, truly��would recognize the strain in his voice as he brushed them off. Whatever the story was seemed to only grow more painful with time.

He was deep in thought, humming absently as he trailed through the hotel. He ended up meandering by Charlie’s room, which was cracked open. He took this as an invitation to let himself in, cheerfully grinning as he saw the girl sitting on the edge of her bed looking extremely confused.

“Hello, dear!” He announced himself, standing up straight and fixing his bowtie with one hand. “What does this afternoon have in store for the Princess of Hell?”

“Heyy, Al,” Charlie responded, still frowning at the contraption in her hand. It was a rather bulky thing; an unappealing piece of new technology, Alastor decided. Still, he loomed from behind Charlie with a curious bend in his neck. Her shoulders were stiff, and he couldn’t tell if it was from frustration with the thing in her hand or discomfort at him watching her. 

“What is that peculiar thing?” He finally asked, since Charlie made no attempt at explanation. She seemed too focused to really pay him any mind.

“Something Heaven gave me to watch some curious soul they can’t control,” She murmured, fiddling with a couple buttons and knobs. “They’ve got me doing some ridiculous things. I mean, some human soul shouldn’t even concern me. But, they promise these favors will help with my hotel.”

Alastor hummed in response. He of all demons would recognize a manipulation tactic when he saw one—convincing a powerful demon princess to do your chores and promising to help her desperate project in return seemed like something the angels would do. He didn’t care one way or another, as long as Charlie’s naivete didn’t get in the way of his own goals.

He took a few steps back when Charlie stood, seemingly finished with setting up the box. He grinned, amused, when she pulled it over her head. It wasn’t the most flattering thing, and pretty bulky on her face. She looked ridiculous, honestly.

“Modern technology,” He sighed dramatically, leaning down onto his cane as he continued to observe her. “Only getting uglier.”

Charlie didn’t respond to his comment, looking around at what Alastor saw as nothing. She played around with the settings again, and adjusted the straps on her head again, before looking around again. She let out a successful sounding “hell yes” before pulling a remote of sorts from her pocket. She pushed on a joystick.

“What are you doing?” Alastor asked plainly, the building curiosity finally becoming too much. “Why do you have a box on your head?”

“It’s like…” She began to explain, trying to think of how to make sense of it to him. “Like… imagine you were looking through the eyes of somebody else, but still standing in the same spot..?” Her voice tilted at the end, unsure of her explanation.

Yeah, no, Alastor had no clue. But he dismissed it as unnecessary, as he often did with any technology he couldn’t understand.

“I’m seeing… Earth, I guess,” Charlie explained more. “Following around this girl.”

Alastor was only partially listening, humming quietly to himself as he just observed. He wondered if he should just leave—nothing interesting was happening. He was curious to see what antics Heaven was pushing on the Princess of Hell, though.

“Wanna try?” Charlie offered, lifting the headset up away from her eyes. Alastor immediately scrunched his nose up and narrowed his eyes.

“And look as ridiculous as you? Hah! No thank you,” He sat down on a chair near the wall, leaning against the back of it. He threw one leg up over the other. Charlie shrugged in response, and pulled the contraption back down.

Alastor sat for a while, absently thinking about what he wanted to do later as he waited for something to happen.

“Oh! Hold on,” Charlie suddenly said, causing Alastor’s ears to straighten to attention as she reached up and pressed a button. A holographic projection appeared out of nowhere, manifesting through some strange magic. “Forgot I could do that. This is what I’m seeing in here.” 

Alastor stood and walked closer, leaning forward on his cane as he studied the projection. It seemed like some kind of bar. He mused at how different modern bars looked from the speakeasies he would frequent during his own life.

“What heavenly task are you doing in a bar?” He joked, trying to find something interesting in the projection. It just seemed like generic bar business. Loud, flirtatious women and boisterous, over confident men. That, at least, was the same from his day.

“Like I said earlier,” Charlie explained, looking around the room. The projection seemed to follow her movement, and Alastor recognized that he was basically seeing through her eyes. How curious. “There’s some… soul they lost control of. And they want me to report to them about her.”

Alastor was very curious to see what kind of soul broke from control of literal heaven. He watched rather intently, leaned forward against his cane to watch the projection.

Charlie turned another knob, and the sound of tacky pop music and loud chatter began to emanate from the bar scene. Alastor wasn’t a fan of newer music, but he was often forced to listen anyway in the hotel lobby.

“Is it possible to turn down that dreadful noise?” He complained to her, announcing his dissatisfaction.

“No. I need to be able to hear what the woman is saying,” Charlie answered stubbornly. Alastor’s microphone of a cane began to obnoxiously play a song of his choice for a moment in retaliation, but died down after a few moments. After all, Charlie ignored his attempt at aggravation, so there was no point in keeping it up.

Charlie looked around the bar, searching. Finally, her gaze settled on a fancier booth with half drawn curtains. From her angle, she could only see a woman. She looked frustrated.

“---get out of your shell! It’s about time you start talking to some guys for once,” Charlie caught the tail end of the woman’s statement. She was gesturing wildly around, exasperation evident in the jagged movements. “I’m sick of watching you pine for somebody who’s been gone for ages.”

★

“Ten years isn’t ages, Mechiele,” You drew your finger against the table, making shapes with the rim of water that the condensation from your glass left. Nearly a hundred years, more like, You commented to yourself. You never told anybody that you were an immortal being. Nobody believed you when you did, anyway.

You sat your cheek against the palm of your hand and lifted your gaze to your friend, who looked at you with a sharp frown. You shot her a weak smile. 

“Can you just drop it?” You asked, nearly pleading. You didn’t want to cry tonight, being a little tipsy—you were an emotional drunk. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself blabbering about a dead husband.

“Come on,” Mechiele said impatiently, pushing your pleas aside. “There’s so many hot guys in here, I bet one would just love to take a piece of work like you home and-”

“Mechiele.” You hoped your tone was enough to shut her up.

You should’ve known better, honestly. Mechiele was already abrasive when she was sober, but with the amount of drinks she’s had tonight…

“No, no, no! You bum! Get your ass up right now and get out there! And take that ring off while you’re at it!”

Mechiele quickly lunged at you, a much too playful look in her eye considering how pissed you were right now. You yanked your arm away from her grasp, cupping your hand protectively with the other, shielding the golden band on your finger from her.

“Fucking drop it!” You snapped at her, standing from your seat. “I’m going home. You’re too drunk. I’ll drive.”

“You’re so fucking lame,” Mechiele droned, falling back into her seat. She wouldn’t budge when you urged her to stand and come with you. “He’s fuckin’ dead! Get a new man, already! Alastor’s not-”

Mechiele stopped abruptly when you smacked her. It wasn’t an incredibly hard smack or anything, barely enough to leave a red bloom on her cheek, but it was enough. She looked at you through narrowed eyes. You returned the same expression.

You left the booth and stormed off, cursing under your breath about it all. About Mechiele, about this stupid bar, about the tipsy feeling in your head, about Alastor—

You folded your arms together as you briskly walked to your car, yelling in frustration at your heels and ripping them off your feet. The ground was a little wet and cold, but you didn’t care. After making it to your car, you threw yourself in an switched it on.

You thought for a few moments. You were lightheaded after a few drinks, but you really didn’t want to wait for a taxi. You’d probably be fine, yeah? Sure. Against your better judgment, you began to drive.

It was a long drive, but it gave you some time to think.

You missed him. You pined for him. Nearly every night was agony, missing the presence of the only man you’ve ever fallen in love with.

You cursed whatever higher power there was for making you this way—immortal. How cruel it was, to make you live forever to suffer this longing. You didn’t even notice when you ended up in your room, but you let yourself fall face first onto your bed, curling up into a ball.

Even more, you cursed yourself for ever falling in love. You should’ve known it would only lead to an endless torture of heartbreak. You would never love anybody the same; although, you don’t think you’d want to, even if you could.

You were born to suffer. To spend an eternity in life without him.

★

Charlie continued to watch in shock for a few moments, her mouth dropped at the mention of the Radio Demon’s name. The previously hidden woman stepped from the bar, a furious look in her eyes as she stormed away. Mechiele was left with stubbornly folded arms and an empty glass of alcohol.

“Heyyy, uh, Al, how common is your name..? Do you know…” Charlie asked a bit awkwardly. She got no response. She lifted the headset, and realized he was gone. Even still, there seemed to be a lingering feeling of intense static, and the air somehow felt a bit heavier than before.

★

This had to be some cruel, sick joke, right? Heaven had to be toying with him, finally finding a way to torture his soul. His wife—she was dead. It had been nearly a hundred years since he died, and even if she had lived till she was old—

Alastor was pacing his room, ears pinned and eyes wide in frantic thought. Oh, how he yearned for her. He had managed for so long to push the memory of her away, to lock up his loss in a tight cage as he climbed the ranks of hell; it had all come rushing, barreling, torrenting back when he had seen her—or, no, somebody that looked like her—step out of those curtains. It was only a coincidence that that woman looked like his wife, and only a coincidence that she had a dead husband that shared his name.

His wife was in heaven, no doubt; which was where she belonged, of course, but Alastor had spent the last decade pining for somebody who he could never see again. If given the choice, Alastor wasn’t so sure himself if he was kind enough as to not tear her soul from Heaven and down to Hell by his side. Alternatively, even if Charlie’s idea of redemption were to work, Alastor was truly irredeemable. It was all wistful thinking, anyway.

Alastor’s claws dug into the curtains of his window, staring out into the streets of Hell in an attempt to concentrate on one steady stream of thought.

When billions of people touch the Earth, it’s only natural that coincidences like this rise. Right? He tried desperately to convince himself of different possibilities. It just made no sense.

A knocking at his door made Alastor’s grin curl in deadly malice. He really wasn’t in the mood.

He paced to his door, opened it just enough to fit his body in the frame, and glared down at Charlie. She was wringing her hands together nervously, and only seemed to grow more timid as the heavy, almost palpable ambience of his radio static filled the hallway she stood in.

“I’m busy,” Alastor said bluntly. His lips were curled in a sneer.

“I can tell,” Charlie responded. "I know you don't like talking about yourself-" She began to ramble on about him talking to her about his feelings and whatnot, but Alastor didn’t listen as he shut the door again.

Though, the interruption did give his mind a chance to slow. He sat on a chair in the corner of his room, and opted to fiddle with the radio on the drawer next to him. He tuned it—or, more just magically infused it—to play some jazz to try to keep his head level.

It would take some time to rebuild the dam that held back the memories of his wife. Even just the mere thought of her made him feel weak, and he hated it. The only soul he was capable of falling in love with—gone, forever.

Alastor never took the whole “eternity of damnation” thing seriously, considering the power he held and how comfortable he really was in Hell. However, when he remembered her—

Hell truly was torture. And he was cursed to spend his eternity in death without her.

[cinnamonest]

Pulchritudinous

Tohru Adachi x Reader

Words: 9.5k

Finally the day has come. I can write a character as a misogynist incel and know it's genuinely 100% canon. What a blessing.

for this I did a teacher! reader, therefore reader is of unspecified age but older than the main cast.

//VERY DARK, female reader, major p4 spoilers, heavy misogyny because it's Adachi how could there not be, implied stalking, near-death experience, major noncon (”have sex with me or die” scenario), threats of death and bodily harm, references to homicide, hair-pulling, choking, firearms, abduction, TV set shenanigans, Tohru likes pointing guns at people

Also I was too uncreative to think of a different slip of tongue so darling makes basically the exact same mistake Adachi makes in December lmao

Synopsis: As the homeroom teacher of the late murder victim, you’re called into the Inaba police station to answer some questions.

“Okay. Just a few questions.”

You forced a polite smile.

“Sure, go ahead.”

In truth, you felt like you were wasting your time.

You already knew most of what was going on. You already knew things that the police didn't. Sitting here was pointless, answering these questions was pointless — you could give him the truth, sure, but that presented a world of problems. It pretty much went without question that that would be a poor idea — you'd be written off as crazy, especially if it somehow didn't work when they tried to replicate your story. You couldn't risk getting fired, or worse, involuntarily committed over psychiatric concerns or something along those lines.

“Konishi was in your homeroom, right?”

You nodded. “That's correct.”

“And you've been to the Junes she worked at, right?”

“Mhm. Once a week or so.”

“Was she ever working while you were there?”

“I recall seeing her there once or twice.”

Yes, it was such a waste of time it felt frustrating. There was nothing you could say — well, nothing you could reasonably say — that would actually be of any help, as much as you wish there was.

“You were one of the last people to see her alive, right? The school said she came into your classroom right before she left.”

You nodded again. “Yes, she forgot to turn something in earlier the same day, so she came back to give it to me. It was only for a few seconds.”

“Did she say anything about where she was going?”

“Not that I recall. I just assumed she was headed home, or to work.”

“Did she seem to be behaving oddly?”

“Well, ah…” you thought back to the day, hit with a twinge of pain at the recollection. “She did seem like she was in a hurry. But not particularly.”

He wrote a few things down, pen scratching at the notepad.

You fidgeted in place, awkwardly clasping your hands together. “Sorry… I know those answers aren't very helpful.”

“No, no, it’s appreciated,” he assured you, albeit seemingly distracted by his task. You gave a weak smile in acknowledgement.

You hadn't intended to become involved in any of this. Hell, you just wanted a nice, quiet life as a teacher, away from the big cities, a small, quaint school. That was it, that was all you'd asked for — a place where you thought life would be slow and peaceful.

Serial murders were not the sort of thing that was supposed to happen in towns like these.

And even then, at this point you wished the murders themselves were the worst part of it all. You never wanted to be exposed to it all, wished you never slipped into that TV. You wanted a normal life, fully within the realm of reality. Not things that defied reality, things that made you pinch your flesh until the bruises were so numerous you knew you weren't dreaming.

Those kids had saved you then, sure, but now you bore the burden of knowing. Having to be aware of such a thing, the way it weighed on your mind, the endless confusion and disbelief as you still struggled to accept it, having to see those kids’ faces in class each day, having them awkwardly come up to you in town outside of school — a routine by now, wherein they assured you that they were working hard on “the case,” and of course, in awkward roundabout ways, always seeking assurance that you hadn't said a word to anyone else.

You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of such thoughts, turning your attention back to Adachi.

He was trying his best, you told yourself, even if you often felt like he was perhaps not particularly well-suited for police detective work. That dopey smile, that scatterbrained nature, it didn’t seem quite aligned to most people’s idea of a cop — someone who was supposed to be stern, observant, competent.

As for you, well, you'd felt pity for him, between seeing him barked at by Dojima day in and day out, and the general stress the man seemed to be under. You'd gone out of your way to try and be nice to him, even greeted him in public when you saw him — which, given the small world that was Inaba, was fairly often.

You'd been called in for questioning a total of three times, counting today. The first two had been at more convenient hours of the day, whereas today, the detective asked you rather last-minute if you could come in right then and there — inconvenient, sure, but when you considered that it was ultimately for the sake of the poor murdered girl, you couldn't bring yourself to reject coming. Besides, you were the one that found her, it was only natural that you'd be questioned extensively.

Still, there was an issue, one you had noticed as soon as he’d started questioning.

“I don't mean to be rude, but, uh…” You gave your best attempt to be polite, “didn't we… go over most of these questions before?”

He stopped writing. His eyes widened for a moment, but then, they closed as he gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish gesture.

“Well, ah, I may or may not have misplaced the notes from last time… I was hoping you wouldn't notice… haha.”

You did not like the knowledge that this man was responsible for public safety.

Still, out of awkward politeness, you waved your hand dismissively, maintaining the pleasant, not-too-exaggerated smile plastered to your face. “Oh, no worries.”

He looked down to the ground, turning his head a bit to the side wistfully.

“Well, now that you say that, more importantly…”

He trailed off. You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head in curiosity.

He turned his head back towards you, giving you another sheepish smile.

“…To tell you the truth… there's, ah, something else I wanted to ask you about.”

There was something off about the tone with which he spoke those words, an audible indicator that whatever the subject matter he referred to was, would be something uncomfortable, unpleasant, rather than an inquiry of a neutral nature.

You blinked a few times, taken aback by the unexpected shift in atmosphere.

“Oh, uh, okay. What is it?”

There was a moment of pause, as if hesitant. He leaned back against the seat cushions, holding his hand out in an explanatory gesture.

“Well, you know, I'm a pretty observant guy, and the higher-ups have me keeping tabs on various people involved… I tend to notice and remember details, take in everything around me, you know, stuff that goes right over most people's heads.” He paused and, catching the confusion on your face, added, “just to preface. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea.”

Yes, something was off. There was a tension in the atmosphere, anticipation making you increasingly uneasy.

But still… polite. You had to be polite. He was a good guy at heart, even if awkward.

“Oh, I'm sure it's fine.” You closed your eyes for a moment as you waved your hand again. “Don't worry, I'm not sensitive or anything.”

He seemed to take that reassuringly, as his posture seemed to relax, but still hesitated a moment more before leaning forward, coming to slouch over with his elbows resting on his thighs, resting his head against one hand.

“…What's a teacher doing hanging out with a bunch of teenage boys so much?”

You hadn't been expecting any one question in particular, nor even had the slightest idea of what he could possibly want to know, but nonetheless, the question he asked was so out of bounds of normality and social appropriateness that it blindsided you completely, leaving you to sit there completely still, slack-jawed and blinking. Still, you forced a smile as you replied.

“…Ah, I… what?”

He smiled as well, seemingly oblivious to your awkward unease.

“Narukami and his friends, I mean.” He tilted his head, gazing off to the side, seemingly trying to present the matter in a nonchalant manner. "I, ah, couldn’t help but notice I saw them talking to you outside of school several times, in all sorts of places.”

“…Narukami?” You tilted your head. “A-ah, well, those kids all… go to Yasogami. So, they're all my students…”

Your thoughts shifted to the kids — your own students, the ones who saved you on that day not long ago at all. And with the thought of them, everything else, all the memories and disbelief and bewilderment, the things you'd tried to push out of your mind for the sake of your own sanity, came rushing back. Your body went stiff.

But of course, you could never even begin to tell Adachi the truth. As much as you wanted to help, you'd be written off as crazy within seconds — saying people could enter an alternate dimension by stepping inside the TV screen was not exactly within the bounds of sanity.

Besides, you still weren't even certain how all that stuff worked, having decided to rid your mind of it and not ask any questions. Even if he was willing to humor you enough to experiment with your claims, what if it didn't work for him? You could envision it now, putting his hand on the TV screen, only for nothing to happen, and the horrible embarrassment to follow.

Then again, the alternative could be even worse — if it did work, what kind of Pandora’s Box would you be opening? Would you be putting people at risk? He was, in the nicest way you could put it, a bit of a dimwit, and you wouldn’t want him doing something rash and getting himself hurt trying to go in.

No, it wasn't even worth entertaining the thought. You clasped your hands together, looking down at the ground, coming up with an explanation on the spot.

“And ever since Konishi was…” You shook your head, pausing for a moment before you continued. “…A lot of those kids have been talking to the faculty… they need someone for comfort… counseling. It's been hard on them. Hanamura and Narukami just happened to come to me.”

“Right, right.”

The phrasing itself was assurance, but somehow, his response didn’t sound entirely convincing, as if insincere, and pressed you to stammer out whatever further defense you could find.

“A-and, ah, Narukami himself is still getting adjusted to living out here and all. He's… from the city, you know.”

“Ah, aha, that makes sense.” He kept up the awkward smile. “I was worried for a minute there… that you were one of those kinds of teachers.”

You blinked, eyes going wide open as the response came out of your mouth on instinct, without any real thought, simply the obvious thing to say to such a statement. “No, no, nothing like that, I…”

You trailed off, not even sure how to continue. The sort-of-accusation hit you with total bewilderment, felt completely unexpected. In what world was that an appropriate thing to ever say to someone, especially with so little evidence? Why would his mind even go to such a trail of thought? It was only the sort of conclusion you could imagine some kind of perverse deviant drawing, and you couldn't imagine him as someone like that.

But you refrained from any strong negative reaction, outwardly at least.

You liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just one of those people that had difficulty understanding social conventions and standards of appropriateness — you'd had students like that in the past, and you liked to think you were a particularly empathetic and understanding person when it came to things of that nature.

“Ah, well, don’t worry, I get it now. Sorry about that… now I feel a little dumb for having asked, hah…”

"Oh, it's, ah, it's fine."

Your response was equally awkward. You knew your discomfort had to be palpable.

He flashed you an awkward smile, but it only lasted a mere second.

And then—

“Well, guess that's it for questioning.”

With those words, he reached over to the small table beside the couch, and turned the light off, leaving the room only dimly lit by lights in the outside hallway, coming in through the half-open door. He then stood up, the dated leather of the couch on his side of the table making a slight sound at the moment.

“A-ah, um, what are—”

Your jaw clamped shut as he quickly ventured around the table and sat down next to you — directly next to you, your thighs touching each other’s. You went rigid, hands clasped together on your lap tightening their grip on each other.

“Don’t worry, I had a feeling you weren’t that sort,” he said, a much lower, more hushed voice. “Still, you should really be more careful… it'd be easy for someone to get the wrong idea.”

Your mouth felt dry. You sensed that the pause was intentional, giving you room to say something in return, yet the utterly bizarre and off-putting shift of the conversation, combined with the sudden proximity and invasion of your personal space, left you silent, slack-jawed, and thus, he filled the silence when you didn’t respond.

“…Speaking of, you're getting kinda up there, age-wise, you know. Kinda surprising you're all by yourself.”

He leaned back against the couch. Alarm bells sounded in your head. You didn't want to be rude, you didn't want to risk overreacting — maybe you had the wrong idea, maybe you were misunderstanding, and then it would look really bad on your part if you acted on that misunderstanding, maybe he wasn't aware of how it was coming off, the possibilities of what was happening flew through your mind all at once. You sat still, but stiff.

He didn't seem to notice.

“You really should start thinking about your future.”

You felt every nerve ending in your body ignite with the discomfort and alarm of unfamiliarity as his arm wrapped around the back side of the couch, coming to touch the back of your neck, forearm resting on your shoulder. The casual hold around you grew tighter, his arm pushing you inward towards him.

“You know, ‘cause most women your age are getting into serious rela—”

You moved on pure reflex.

Your body sprang back in the opposite direction, feet scrambling against the tile. Your hands reflexively pushed outward, shoving against him, and you found yourself tumbling off the couch and falling flat onto the floor, grunting as your tailbone hit the harsh surface.

For a moment, the pain that it sent up your spine consumed your attention, distracting you for a few seconds as you winced, pulling yourself to sit upright.

And then, you processed what you'd done. Your head snapped back upwards to look at him. “A-ah, I…”

He looked caught off-guard, momentarily wide-eyed with the sudden startle, having been moved slightly to the side by the force of your push.

And then, his face fell.

His eyes went half-lidded, smile disappearing. A total shift in expression, to one you had never seen the young officer wear before — one you wouldn't have thought his face was capable of.

His voice dropped low, a flat and empty tone.

“…You too, huh.”

You blinked rapidly, heart only beating harder and faster at the feeling of dread and alarm that began to rise up in your stomach. You pushed yourself backwards, hands pushing at the ground to move your body away from him.

“What… what do you—”

“And here I thought you were such a sweet girl.” His voice interrupted yours as he took a step forward, a cold dramaticism to his tone. “So nice… you really seemed to get me.”

You blinked in bewilderment, cold dread beginning to bloom in your gut. You barely knew the man, having only spoken to him a handful of times, most of which were about the case, and a few passing words when you ran into each other in town.

He stopped once he reached you, his shadow looming over your sprawled form. His eyes narrowed.

“But no, you're just another snobby little bitch, aren't you.” His nose wrinkled with his expression of disgust. “Think you're too good for me, don't you?”

You scrambled up to your feet, stumbling on unsteady legs. You pulled your hands up to your chest, curling them into fists, a defensive reflex. Confusion and panic rapidly began to take over, you could feel your heart beginning to pound heavy and fast as the reality of the situation settled in.

“No, no I—” you swallowed, shaking your head in an instinctive reaction to the sudden hostility. “I didn’t mean to—I was just startled, don’t…”

You found yourself trailing off, unable to summon coherent words through your alarm.

He looked you up and down, expression of apathetic disdain unwavering.

“And to think I gave you a chance.” He sighed. “Thought you'd be different from those two.”

You blinked. Something about those words hit you like a punch to the stomach, but you couldn't tell why. Like a siren going off in your head, a chill that ran through your blood, your gut instincts unmistakably commanding you to get away — and you would, except for the fact that, as you realized with the sense of alarm in your chest growing exponentially, he stood between you and the only exit from the room.

“What… what do you mean those—”

Your words cut off.

Time itself came to a standstill. You stood, motionless as a corpse, as a chill pierced your chest. A deep, profound sensation of cold that spread out from your heart, into your blood. You were certain you could physically feel the ice spread out through your veins, to every cell in your being, an all-consuming cold.

You realized that, as he said those words, his gaze shifted over to the side. Your eyes followed his line of sight.

He was looking at the TV, tucked away on a stand in the corner of the room.

Why was he looking at the TV?

You could feel your pulse in your chest. You could feel your pulse in your neck. You could feel it in your head, your fingertips, the way the blood began to rush through your body, the way your heart began to pound, an electrifying sensation setting every nerve in your body alight.

The direction of his gaze, his words, the sudden shift in demeanor so drastic it felt as if he’d swapped places with a different person entirely— it made the hairs on your body stand on end, goosebumps spreading across your skin, and a deep, unnerving sense of nauseous dread as your frantic thoughts began to align. Your muscles went tense, shoulders bunching up.

Words came out between your lips, words you heard more than you spoke, as if your mouth moved on its own. A low murmur, just barely above a whisper.

“…Did…”

You took a step backwards. Your body twitched, shivered.

“…Did you…?”

Silence hung in the air.

You would expect someone in his position to look shocked, panicked, regardless of the truth of the matter. To rush to their own defense, to immediate respond.

But he did not.

There was a few seconds of pause. For just a moment, his eyebrows raised, but his expression was otherwise neutral.

And then, the officer's eyes fell half-lidded, and ever so slowly, the corners of his mouth pulled upward.

Something inhuman stared down at you, a malicious, sinister grin spread across his face, stretched just far enough to look inhuman, uncanny.

Your heart began to speed up. Your voice grew louder, but it audibly wavered with panic.

“You… you put them in there?”

That time, it was his turn for his eyes to go wide, an eerie smile slowly spreading across his face. He tilted his head, the motion seeming almost mechanical.

“Oh…?”

A jolt of panic ran through your veins as you caught your mistake. Your hands instinctively darted to cover your mouth, but it was too late. He took ominously slow steps towards you, each one making a harsh clack as his soles made contact with the tile.

“’Put them in there…?’ What an odd choice of words…” His voice grew lower, deeper, eyes still plastered wide open. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you know some things you have no business knowing.”

You took a step back.

He took a step forward.

“How might that be…? Those kids, maybe?” He cast his gaze over to the TV once more. “I had a feeling something like that might be going on, with you talking to them so much.”

Then, his eyes slowly turned back towards you.

He kept smiling. The same expression, yet so far removed from the cheerful, dopey one you were so used to, the face almost didn't register with your recognition, as if you were looking at a different person.

And then, it grew so much it made his eyes narrow, from mere malicious amusement, to sadistic glee.

“…Intentionally withholding information from the police is a pretty serious offense, you know. ‘Obstruction of justice.’ It’s a felony.”

Your stomach churned, you felt nauseous, muscles tense with the urge to move, but forced still by lack of option. You could only move back further, further away from both him and your only way away from him.

“What… what about the other people that went in? Was that you, too?”

His face fell, almost comically, shifting from eerie to unamused, as if your question was so exasperating it made him drop the intimidating act.

“…God, you are really, really stupid, you know that?” He sighed, shoulders falling. “You just realized that saying too much is a bad idea, and then you immediately do it again?” He shook his head, letting it fall downward with mock exasperation. “Geez, lady.”

But then, you saw his expression perk up with amusement once more.

“But, guess that means I was right… you are collaborating with those brats. I had a feeling.”

Your heart pounded harder still. You kept stumbling back as he crept ever closer, torturously slowly. You held your hands up to your chest in a natural, reflexive instinct of defense, shrinking back.

“…You’re not… saying you didn’t… do it…?”

He shrugged.

“Don't see much of a point in that now.”

He wasn't denying it.

But the simple fact itself was not what made every hair on your body stand up. It was a slow buildup of dread, blooming in your chest, and as the thoughts processed, it was those words, more than any others thus far, that made your blood run cold.

He didn't care if you knew.

He didn't see you being a threat. He wasn't worried about you telling anyone.

Then—

You felt cold. Time seemed to slow down. You were hyper-aware of every muscle, every nerve, you could feel the blood rushing through your body.

“Guess we were both hiding something,” he said in a low tone, taking another step, forcing you further back.

And then, the inevitable happened, causing your blood to run colder still, the fear in your system amplified tenfold in a single second.

Your back hit the corner.

You pressed into it as hard as you could out of instinct to get away, as if it would give way if you did.

But it did not. You were trapped, a little animal cornered by its hunter.

“Ah… ah…” Your breathing grew ragged. Your body trembled, your eyes began to water. “I… Adachi-san…”

The only light was that which came in through the hall, hitting his back, casting a shadow over his face, only the whites of his eyes and grinning teeth standing out — nightmarish, something that could only be recognized as sadistic ecstasy. Pure, unadulterated malice.

He was going to throw you in. He was going to throw you in there and you’d die. The image ran through your mind, so quickly retrieved now that it was irreparably burned into your brain, the shape caught up in the wires, a black outline in the early morning light, how you’d told yourself you were just seeing things, that your brain was spooked from the news of the prior murder, before the rising sun made the image undeniable.

The way you’d squinted and facial recognition hit your body like a punch to the stomach, taking the breath out of your lungs, how you felt the horror slowly rise up into your chest like ice cold water filling your body, how you’d dropped your phone and struggled to dial the police from how hard your hands trembled.

It would be you. You’d be strung up on the wires, dangling by your limbs in a manner almost graceful if not for the entrenchment in death.

You could tell that he could see it all playing out on your face, the thoughts and realizations and terror, by the way his smile split at the line, whites of his teeth standing out in the darkness.

“Well then.”

You didn't have time to move. Before you could even react, he had the collar of your shirt in his hand, twisting the fabric, pulling you upward.

You stumbled around, only the balls of your feet able to even touch the ground. “Wait, wait, stop— I’m sorry—”

“What was that?” He said, voice mocking, cynical. “You said you were sorry?”

You nodded profusely. You weren't thinking too much about it — your only instinct was that trying to appease him might save you.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to— I was just startled, I wasn't trying to push you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

You spoke so fast your words slurred together, your voice was shrill and cracking. Tears began to pour down your cheeks. Your body shivered beyond your control, a fear unlike anything you'd known in your life.

There was no movement, no harsh dragging and jerking and inevitable pushing you might have expected.

“…Hm.”

You could only make out the shape and colors of his face, unable to see his exact expression through the blur of your tears. But his voice was hesitant, pensive, as if the blood-pumping rush of the moment were brought to a sudden stop.

Your heels connected to the ground as he lowered you, but he didn't let go of the fistful of your shirt. His other hand reached up, and although you winced in anticipation, all he did was wipe at your eyes with his sleeve. Trembling, teeth chattering, you slowly turned your head up to look at him, his face now so much closer than it had ever been.

The smile was smaller, fainter, but still present nonetheless.

“…You know what? I like you, Little Miss Teacher.”

He reached up to grab your jaw, a harsh and painful grip.

“Look at you, apologizing like that… so meek.” He leaned his face closer to yours, lowering his voice to a husky murmur. “You seem like you know your place, recognize your mistakes…” His voice lowered to bitter mutter as he finished, “instead of doubling down on being a bitch.”

He pulled your head to tilt further upward, forcing a degree of eye contact no matter which way you looked. He spoke lower, quieter.

“Self-awareness is a good trait to have.”

You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Your throat was strained, your mind ran blank. You could only stare with wide eyes, fighting every instinct to claw at his hands, what little rationality you had left telling you it would only worsen your situation.

“But I still think you're a little full of yourself.” His fingernails pushed into the flesh of your face. “You could use some humility.”

You whimpered, a pitiful little sound. You could see his smile grow as it met his ears.

He let go.

You crumpled to the ground, knees hitting the surface painfully, hands pressing to the floor to keep you from toppling over entirely.

He took a few slow, nonchalant steps back towards the center of the room, pausing as he reached a small table close to the door, turning back towards you and leaning against it.

“Hey, how ‘bout I give you a chance to redeem yourself?” He titled his head. “If you can prove you're sorry, I think I can let this slide.”

He reached one hand over to the opposite hip. Before you could even make out in the dark what he pulled out from underneath the veil of his suit jacket, the recognition hit as he extended his arm back out to point the object at you, and a heart-stopping, unmistakable click.

“Go on. I'm waiting.”

You trembled, reaching one hand to clutch to your chest again. “What… what do you want me to do…?”

His face turned unamused once more, voice equally so as he gave a blunt, low-voiced reply.

“You’re not that stupid.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your throat. You swallowed, looking down.

For a moment, you hesitated. Your mind scrambled for reasons why he couldn’t kill you. He couldn't — right? Your blood would get on the floor, he wouldn't have the ability to clean it out well enough, right?

But no one else knew you were here. No one would know to look here. If he cleaned it up and threw your body in, that would be the end of it.

There was no other option.

Your trembling hands reached down to your outfit — a cardigan, a button-up and a pencil skirt, the general standard for your profession — and slipped the outermost layer off. After a moment of uncertain hesitation, you resolved to simply throw it into the floor. Then, you began unfastening the first button at the top of your shirt, struggling with how hard you shivered.

“You wear that to school?” His words broke the momentary silence. “In front of a bunch of teenagers?”

You clenched your jaw. You didn't think it was in any way inappropriate. “I… it’s not bad…”

“Wonder how that's even allowed,” he continued, as if you hadn’t spoken. “You get off to high school boys staring at you, is that it?”

You shifted uncomfortably, shaking your head. “N-no, I've never—”

“God, you are that kind of teacher after all. Haha!” He laughed aloud, reaching his other palm upon to his face. “I knew you were. I could tell just by watching you walking out the school gates every day… always talking to that brat.” He shook his head, then sighed. “No wonder girls these days are such whores, with role models like that.”

You stopped mid-motion, hands clenching at your shirt as the meaning of his words registered. Images flashed through your mind, all the unique and loveable young girls in your class, and of her. Even in your dread, you found spiteful anger bubbling up in your chest, voice coming out weak and wavering, but defiant nonetheless.

“Don't… don't say things like that, you—”

“Did I tell you to stop?” His head snapped back in your direction, nose wrinkling with an expression of disgust.

You winced, mouth snapping shut. With tears prickling at your eyes, you continued.

Your jaw was clenched, face growing warm as you undid the last button, hesitating for a moment before you let it fall off your shoulders, weakly tossing it to the floor as well before going for the zipper on the side of the skirt, shaky fingers pulling it downward.

“So mechanical about it…” He sighed, disappointed. “If you're not gonna even try and make this part entertaining, the least you can do is hurry it up.” He gave the pistol a light shake to emphasize. “C'mon.”

You bit your lip, forcing your pace faster. The skirt hit the ground, and you pulled your tights off your legs so quickly that one side split open as you did. Your feet pulled out of your shoes, tile cold against your bare soles.

Then, you hesitated. Embarrassment washed over you as you looked down at all that was left.

Your eyes darted up to the man pointing the gun at you once more. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head with that cocky smirk on his face, nudging the pistol in the direction of the pile of clothing now by your side.

You closed your eyes and reached your hands behind your back, elastic material snapping as you undid the clasp. You pulled the waistband around your hips downward, and tossed both to the side.

The air was cold against your skin. Goosebumps covered your body, far more for from fear than the chill.

You reached a hand up over your chest, pressing your legs together, trying to find some semblance of dignity.

“Aw, shy? That's adorable.” He chuckled. Snide grin unfaltering, he reached his other hand up, gesturing with a finger for you to come forward. The other arm didn't move, deadly weapon still pointed directly at you.

You tried, but your body wouldn't move. The instinct to stay away was too strong, an inherent gut reaction bred into your brain by who knew how many millions of years of survival of your species.

Prey animals didn't run right into the gaping maw of their predators.

But you had to. You had to.

You took a deep breath, and forced one of your legs to move forward. Then another, forming a forward momentum that you just had to keep going, more a matter of letting your weight glide forward and catching it again and again, rather than forcing each step individually. You kept your gaze at the ground. If you looked up, you knew you'd freeze again, and you didn't know if you had the willpower to force movement from stillness again.

You stopped when his legs were visibly right before you. Your heart was pounding, beating so fiercely you could physically see the pulsating of your wrist moving with the flow of blood.

“There, see?” He reached forward, placing his hand atop your head. “You know your place after all.”

Even through the overwhelming sensation of heavy dread, the burn of humiliated fury made its way through. You clamped your jaw harshly, teeth grinding, but not letting that anger lead you to any foolish action.

You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes as his hands then brushed against your shoulder. The touch was cold, leaving a trail of sensation as his hand trailed down your arm, the electrifying feeling lasting on each spot even after it was touched. You winced at the gentle clack sound as the gun was set down on the table’s surface.

And then, you went tense, inhaling a sharp breath as his hands harshly grabbed at your arm and your neck, roughly turning you around and pushing your upper body downward. Your feet stumbled to steady your stance, and your hands reached out to the nearby wall. The panic in your chest felt as if some accumulating bubble of emotion had burst, the intense chill of suddenly rushing through your body, leaving you unable to do anything but stand there — a bitter helplessness, a burning fury at your own pathetic weakness beneath the terror.

“Oh, and hey,” his fingers dug painfully into your arm, “feel free to scream or whatever. I made sure to pick a night no one else would be here.”

You stiffened. Even in your fear and panic and confusion, you managed to make the words out well enough to infer the implication. You turned your head over your shoulder to the best of your ability.

“You—you… planned…?”

“Mm?” He raised an eyebrow. “Obviously. I needed the station to be empty in case you made me kill you, y’know?” He said it nonchalantly, as if it were a trivial matter. “But hey, it was only insurance, just in case… I knew I probably wouldn’t need it. You seemed like you’d be good for me.”

He pulled harshly at the fistful of your hair.

“And whaddya know, I was right. Third time's the charm… or whatever that saying is.”

Bitterness welled in your chest. Your head hung heavily against his hold, pulling at your scalp.

“Now…”

You winced and yelped as he turned you around and your face hit the table, pain radiating from the spot of impact. Your immediate reflex was to put your hands on the table and push upward, but his hand in your hair kept you shoved downward, with an added hand pressing your back into an arch.

You didn't get any moments of mental preparation, much less physical. No sooner had you grunted in pain from the impact than you felt the sudden harsh burning sear of friction to the most sensitive flesh, your body being forced apart by sudden intrusion. You inhaled a sharp, gasping breath, instinctively trying to lurch forward away from the sting, but his hands easily pulled you back, pushing further inside of you until you felt the fabric at the front of his thighs meet the back of yours, hips pressed up against your ass.

“God, fuck.” You heard his voice from behind you, spoken more like a harsh whisper of breath. “…’s warm…”

He pulled back. You gasped and whimpered at the sensation of flesh dragging against your insides, onto to squeal, body jolting as he slammed back inside in one swift motion. Twice, a third time, each making you go tense, shivering, walls spasming.

“M-Maybe you're not such a slut after all…” he murmured. “You feel good.”

You said nothing, unable to summon any words, merely letting out a miserable little sound as the rough motions continued, pressing your forehead to the flat surface below as tears fell down your face and a soft string of under-the-breath curses made their way to your ears.

And then, the motion came to a halt.

“But you're so noisy… listening to you squealing like that is giving me a headache.”

A moment of pause, heavy tension, deliberately drawn out. You felt the faintest shift of muscle against your backside as he turned his upper body over in the direction of the television.

You grunted as he pulled out, leaving your hole twitching. His arms wrapped around you waist, lifting you just enough that your feet left the ground, somewhat awkwardly making a few steps over to where the screen sat in its place on the stand. Your heart felt as if it were going to burst out of your chest, a cold rush ran through your body.

His hand reached up, taking a fistful of your hair once more.

“And you know what else…”

He came to a halt, sheathing himself back inside of you with a harshness that made your jaw clench in pain, taking a few heaving breaths before practically growling into your ear.

“You're not afraid enough.”

Your own breath was ragged, more panic than you'd ever felt in your life causing your heart to pound like it never had before. “No, no please don't—don’t—”

And then, taking a fistful of your hair in his hand once more, he shoved your upper half through the screen.

Out of pure logical instinct, you tensed and squeezed your eyes shut as to brace yourself for brute impact, for shattering glass that would cut your scalp and scrape your arms.

But instead, there was a sudden void. All the noises of your scuffling movements and the low hum of the air ventilation system in the station was suddenly gone, replaced by only hollow quiet, only broken by the low, eerie groan of the atmosphere itself.

Your arms reached out, desperately seeking something to grab, to hold, to push back on, but you felt nothing, limbs merely frantically flailing into the yellow void.

You squealed, but that time, it echoed around you, surrounded by a thick, heavy fog. You could make out the deep yellow atmosphere around you, but you were being jerked back and forth so harshly, and the tears in your eyes and the fog itself so deeply blurring your vision, to the point it was impossible to make out anything.

You couldn't hear him anymore — but even so, you could still feel him pounding into your body.

He tilted you forward. You felt his arm, having pushed through the screen, latch onto the back of your shirt to keep you from falling. Your feet left the ground, your weight shifting from being mostly on the other side, to most of it falling forward on the side of your upper half. You were entirely suspended by his strength.

If he were to let go, you'd fall in completely.

You shrieked. A high-pitched wail that echoed all around you, a sound of pure terror. Your hands reached out in an attempt to push yourself back, but found nothing, merely flailing in the air.

And then, you were jerked backwards.

Your squealing continued until he slapped his hand over your mouth.

You could hear it again, the slapping of skin on skin. Your body was fully back in the real world. Your back hit his chest.

“Was that the sound you were making the whole time your head was in there?” There was mirth in his voice, laughing out the words themselves. “You wanna go back in? Kinda nice in there, isn’t it?”

“No, no!” You shook your head rapidly. “D-don’t, please, I don't want—”

“You could go all the way in, you know.” He pulled on your hair harshly as he jerked his hips forward and came to a halt, holding you still, pain shooting through your scalp. “It would be so easy,” he hissed into your ear. “All it would take is one little push.”

You gasped for breath, unable to respond beyond shaking your head further.

“You haven't been on the Midnight Channel, either,” he added. “Those little brats wouldn't know to come looking for you ‘till it was too late.”

He chuckled, a deranged, low sort — and then went quiet. His torso leaned further forward, face brushing against the side of your neck in a gesture that, in any other context, could have been affectionate. Still sheathed inside your body, he slowly rolled his hips again, a long-drawn out movement, savoring the feeling. Your face scrunched up with uninhibited despair as he spoke again, through labored breaths, as he began to speed up the pace again.

“…But you know what? I don't need the TV to kill you.”

Then, his voice lowered. The playful mockery vanished, something far darker that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally broke through — a low growling voice, a deep, furious malice.

“Stupid fucking woman. I could snap your neck. I could put my hands—”

His hand reached up—

“—On your throat and just—”

It squeezed hard. You jolted and gagged as your airway was cut off.

“I could kill you with my bare hands, right here. Is that what you want?”

You didn't give a verbal response, merely shaking your head rapidly, animal-like whines of fear coming out of your throat.

But that wasn't enough. You heard a low, growl-like sound in your ear, and his voice came out equally so, almost inhuman.

“I said, is that what you fucking want?!”

“No! No, please, Adachi-san, please don't—”

Tears, snot and saliva coated your face. You shook your head, whimpers fragmented by each harsh, rapid thrust that shoved your body forward, each jerk of his arms that pulled you back, and muffled by your asphyxiation.

You could feel his breath on your ear as he continued.

“Then you want me to keep fucking you, don't you?”

It was obvious, of course, that that was what he meant — the only alternative to death. You nodded, choking out your words.

“Yes, please…”

He didn’t respond immediately, moving fast enough that he had to take a few heavy, ragged breaths before hissing the words into your ear through clenched teeth.

“Then beg for it.” His fingers curled further, nails digging into your flesh — yet lightening the pressure on your throat, allowing you to breathe, even if only with heaving effort. “I wanna hear how good you can beg for me.”

You whimpered, mouth hanging open as you tried and failed to summon any words, emotion and stimulus so overwhelming it hindered your ability to even think. His cock stretched you apart, the circumstantial fear causing you to clamp down so hard that he was practically constantly pushing inward with force, rather than your body pulling him in as it might have done with someone you were willingly allowing to do these things to you. Each movement drug against your insides with coarse, burning friction.

He huffed in impatience.

“C’mon. Do it—”

He snapped his hips forward especially harsh, ramming your whole body forward with the force.

“—Like your life depends on it.”

The jerking motion snapped you out of the momentary stupor. Your voice trembled.

“Ah, ah, Adachi-s-san, please, I—”

“Oh, come on. Is that how you call your lover?”

Your brain scrambled to rectify the matter, but he was such a near-stranger to you, you couldn't remember. Maybe he'd said it once, but even as you desperately tried to recall, you couldn't.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I don't… I don't know your…”

There was a pause. You heard the soft, disdainful tch from his mouth.

“Tohru.”

You swallowed.

“T-Tohru…” You squeezed your eyes shut, words coming out uneasy, blatantly forced and foreign. “Please, Tohru, don’t… d-don’t stop, don’t…”

It must have been good enough, as you felt his fingers dig into your hips harder, felt his body shudder against yours.

“Heh… haha…” The amusement in his voice made a bitter burning swell in your chest. “You get off to this, don't you?”

Your mouth opened to protest, to say no.

But you stopped short, a throaty whine coming out of your mouth. Your priority was survival.

You nodded your head.

“’Course you do,” he mumbled, voice growing increasingly husky and laden with labored breaths. He jerked your hair again, pulling you even further towards him, ensuring his chest was firmly pressed to your back. “Little whore… it's always the girls that look so wholesome that are into the freakiest shit, huh."

You could hear the strain in his voice as it began to waver. He leaned in closer, breath hot on your ear.

"This was probably what you wanted, wasn't it? The whole hard-to-get shtick is fun for you, isn't it?"

Once more, you ignored any emotions or knee-jerk reaction of such an accusation, repressed the bitter fury, merely nodded your head. "Mhm, mm..." Your lip trembled, tears leaking out and trailing down your cheeks.

His hips moved faster and faster still, the movement growing frenzied and erratic.

“Of course you’d turn— turn out to be such, such a slut… I knew you’d want it, I knew you—shit—”

He came to a sudden halt, one final jerking pull of your hips to meet his, sheathed fully inside. You felt his cock twitch inside your body.

And then, everything was still.

With the sudden end of the slapping of skin on skin that had reverberated around the room, there was a sudden void of quiet, near silence, barring ragged breathing. You kept perfectly still, the shock and emotion that still coursed through your body so intense, you didn’t even shiver.

Your mind felt as if in a fog, a heavy daze that left you feeling cold and numb, everything felt far away, not real, distant. You kept still, staring forward.

It wasn’t until you felt him slide out of your body, releasing his hold, that you snapped out of the daze, stumbling forward, falling to your knees, legs far too weakened and stiff to support you.

For a moment, you kept your gaze at the ground. You tried to let your mind slip back into the stupor, desperate for some sense of escape, to savor the few precious seconds you could let yourself be anywhere but here, that you could shut him and the reality before you out, that you could delay facing having to look at him again.

But it was only the briefest of seconds before the light from down the hall was cut off again by the shadow looming over you. You began to shiver, chest heaving with breaths that burned your lungs.

Slowly, with eyes and expression blank with the remnant shock and daze, pathetically curled up on the floor, you turned your head upward.

“…Congratulations, Miss Teacher.” You could see the smile once more, the whites of his teeth practically glowing against the shadow, the cruel mockery in his voice crawling under your skin. “You’re way too meek. I've decided killing you would be no fun. Aren't you happy?”

Each gasp for breath burned in your throat, your chest. The words didn’t register immediately — several quiet seconds passed as you slumped over, staring up at him in a dazed stupor, body shivering with aftershock and weariness.

“Th-then… I…” you swallowed, body trembling beyond your control. “I can… go…?”

His eyebrows raised, a momentary look of surprise.

“Huh? Oh, no, no, you—” he cut off with a small bout of laughs, holding his palm to his face and tilting his head upward as if you'd just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. “Ahaha, don't tell me you actually thought I was just going to let you leave? That's—” He cut off with another laugh.

Your heart felt as if it sank. You felt cold.

And then, he went quiet. He slowly turned his gaze back to you, voice growing lower, quieter, a dramatic ominousness exuding from his body with his words.

“What kind of protector of the public would I be if I just let such a suspicious person walk right out of here?” Hands on his hips and eyes closed, he tilted his head downward and sighed, slowly shaking it back and forth in a mock gesture of exasperation. “You withheld information from the police, regarding a murder at that, and you seem to have knowledge of the killer’s M.O…. that’s what we call a ‘person of interest’ in cases like this, you know.”

And then, despite his momentary attempt at mock seriousness, his restraint seemed to crumble away as the corners of his mouth turned upward, malicious glee breaking through the act. His eyes opened just enough to look at you, narrowed by the grin spreading across his face once more.

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to remain in police custody for the foreseeable future.”

You curled in further on yourself, shoulders hunching up, hands curling into fists before you brought them up to your chest in a meek, defensive instinct. Your throat felt dry. You felt your heartbeat pounding in your throat.

The way the smile on his face curled further made it clear the despair showed on your face. He chuckled.

“Well, c’mon. Put some clothes on.” He tilted his head in the direction of where they sat on the floor. “You can't walk out there naked.”

Your eyes widened. The words gave you a sinking feeling in your stomach. “…Out… there…?”

He sighed.

“God, you really are dense. Did you not get that? I’m taking you home.”

You didn’t really know what you expected, as the conclusion from his earlier words was obvious, yet hearing him say it so directly made another surge of panic course through your body. Instinctively, and perhaps against better judgement, you shook your head.

“But, but I can’t— I don’t want—”

“…Oh?” His eyes narrowed, unamused and dark expression on his face. “Well, if you don't wanna come with me, then…”

His eyes trailed back over to the television.

Even as exhaustion wore over your body, fear still gripped at your chest, and your answer came on instinct.

“N-no, I'll go with you, I'll…” You swallowed, squeezing your teary eyes shut for a moment before looking back up at him. Your body was shivering. Your next words came out in a hushed, high-pitched whimper, audibly verging on tears. “…I'll go…”

The smile returned to his face.

“Good girl.���

The words made you shudder, revulsion and disgust a twisting feeling in your gut.

After a brief pause, he gestured to your clothes again.

You looked over, but the fear kept you frozen. After a few still seconds, realizing you weren’t moving, he sighed, walking over himself, grabbing the bundle in a few swift motions before throwing the loose pile over to you. You swallowed, hands shaking and dropping the pieces more than once as you forced yourself to put them on, little by little, albeit now dusty, wrinkled and disheveled. You kept your gaze to the floor as you did, but you felt his piercing gaze on you all the same.

And the moment you fastened the last button, with no hesitation, you felt his hand latch onto the back of the collar of your shirt, harshly pulling you upright.

“Come on. Don’t try that stalling shit.” His voice was now impatient, irritated.

You stumbled on shaky legs, forced to grasp onto him to steady yourself. “I, I’m not—” you swallowed. “…Sorry…”

He didn’t respond for a moment, merely wrapping his hand around your upper arm in a tight, bruising grip, jerking you forward harshly. You stumbled as you were rapidly dragged forward, quickly exiting the room, out into the hall.

“And don’t worry,” he spoke again, “I’ve got a nice little closet to keep you in ‘til I can work something better out. Won’t that be nice?”

You didn’t respond, until you felt a sudden harsh squeeze in the grip on your arm. You closed your eyes and nodded. “I, yes…”

He seemed satisfied with the answer, continuing on, “Besides, being a cop has it's advantages. I can get more handcuffs, monitoring devices… it'll work out just fine. And hey, if you're really good, maybe I’ll hurt you a little less, yeah?”

You bit your lip.

It was all happening too fast to sink in, your mind struggled to process. You were leaving, he was taking you, you had to get away, but you had no way to get away, it wasn’t real it wasn’t happening it wasn’t right—

He halted as you reached the front of the police station. The sudden stop made you stumble forward in your momentum, clinging to him to steady yourself once again. You looked up at him in fearful confusion, and he cast another heinous grin down at you.

“Now, I’m not gonna cuff you just yet, ‘case we run into someone, that would give people the wrong idea and all… but don't think about trying to run or scream or some other stupid shit, either. I dunno if you’re dumb enough to think you could outrun me, but…”

He reached his hand over so that the edge of his jacket was brushed back, unveiling the same gun from before that had since been holstered back to his belt.

“Personally, I'm pretty content with the holes you already have… but I'd still be happy to blow a few more into your legs, if need be.” He tilted his head. “And that river down at the edge of town’s real nice and deep, if you decide to go screaming and drag some poor bastard into this. Got that?”

You lip trembled. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

“Good, good. Now…”

He pulled you forward again, the stride bringing you close enough to the front that the automatic doors slid apart. The cool, humid air hit your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, right. One more thing.” He cleared his throat, turned to you with that godawful grin of cruel amusement, and in a mocking, dramatized voice, said, “you have the right to remain silent, miss.”

Your chest burned with fury. Tears welled in your eyes, your face pitifully contorting with bitter anger.

It was the reaction he wanted. He laughed once more, holding the hand that wasn’t gripping your arm up to his face.

“Ah, that’s adorable. You’re fun to mess with, you know… that’s good.”

With that, he drug you forward again, out through the door.

Your shoulders jerked with a silent sob. Your fingers curled into a fist, and your lip quivered as you spoke in a hushed, but hissing tone, filled with fear and hatred.

“You're a murderer.”

You got only a sigh in response.

“Yeah yeah, sure, whatever.”

With an iron grip on your arm, the police detective led you out into the rural streets, the night air freezing against your bare skin. You followed with stumbling footsteps, legs trembling in trepidation. Unable to do anything but follow.

You realized, as the last strands of hope in your chest faded away, that even if there was someone out there, they might not even see you, with the visibility so low.

Likewise, you turned your head back towards the station, but within just a short distance, it was already completely obscured by the fog.

[knightyoomyoui]

Mina x M/F Reader - "Need You Now"

One of my shortest one-shots in the book. Sorry if this is unlike most of my longer fics, unfortunately I have to say that due to how busy I am in my life right now, I can still insert wriing stories in my free time, but not as long as I use to do anymore. Probably my one-shots from now on will be like less than 3 or 5k word count. This fic is inspired from one of my favorite songs of all time, "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. The structure of this story is in a music video-type narrative, so while reading this you can just imagine this as an alternative MV with the song in the background. I may have done the ending a little bit longer for the final chorus but I needed to add atleast more dialogue so yeah, just skip any unneccesary parts in your mind to fit it in the song haha. Lastly, I don't accept any commissions for now but I'm very open to accept any donations for you kind readers as another way of appreciation for my works. I can use this for my upcoming on-the-job training so please if you can spare some, I would be highly grateful. ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui Enjoy reading!

It is nighttime of a random day in the 1700s in Japan, and Myoui Mina is currently living alone in her house. She is standing in front of the window as she views the townscape of Kobe with all the illuminated lights coming from the houses and posts. While her eyes are fixed on the scenery, her mind is busy projecting an image of a certain person to cope with the sadness she’s feeling.

Picture perfect memories with you is what she has been replaying on her mind again and again, in which she won’t stop or get tired at all, just like she can do with just being around you. All she feels is joy and tranquility within your presence, and although she needed it right now, it makes her disappointingly wonder why this day is just going to end up unlike what she had with you before.

Her almost-a-month of longing for you has already reached its breaking point, not for the idea of only meeting you in her dreams but to the annoying fact that you had to disappear without leaving any trace for her to follow or indication to be relieved that you’re doing well on wherever you may be at right now.

She reached for the telegraph in her table and tries to contact you until she realizes that she never had your contact with him and it will rather end up being pointless, just like as her search around the town that she has done few days ago, inquiring for your whereabouts.

Slamming the telegraph back into its place, Mina groaned and sighed heavily with a frown on her face. She sat on the bed, her energy deteriorating as the likelihood of receiving a response or an update about you increased. It’s already a wasted 49th attempt at reaching back to you, and she wondered how long it would take to be ignored like this.

Mina then started to question you by herself: did you ever become happy with her and do you even still think about her even when you're not around to spend time together with her? She knows that you already knew that she hates feeling abandoned anymore, and now that you act like you are unaware of it, Mina is now wondering twice if you even listened or understood why she said that and especially

when she told you how much you mean for her.

If she'll be the one to ask the same, she admits that she is and she does it always until now. She won’t be this determinated to find and learn any news about what you may be doing if you’re just somebody that she’s close with. No, for Mina… you turned out to be the only person that holds special purpose in her life.

And not having you anymore will make Mina lose interest or simply, a reason to continue living again. Twice is enough if the pain will just be doubled, she believes.

Mina has checked the time and realizes it's been already quarter after 1 AM that she remained awake. It made her broke down in tears, knowing that this isn't like her who waits for this long and the fear to be alone again is eating her up inside more in which you once helped her to fight it since the first time she met you.

Looking at the telegraph again, she said to herself that she won't call anymore, thinking that she might probably be disturbing you or becoming strange with her frantic efforts of searching for you, but Mina has already lost control, and she doesn't care anymore if she has become this desperate.

She just needs you tonight, and now that you’re gone after showing her how it feels to have someone by her side after living most of her life without a family, relative, or even friends, she doesn't know how she can manage without having you again in her life.

Meanwhile, not so far away from your hometown and from Mina’s sanctuary, you were cleaning your weapons until it got interrupted when your concentration vanished again just by the memory of Mina affecting your heart and mind.

You looked out the window, reflecting the dark sky and atmosphere outside. A sudden concern about how she may be doing had obliged your body to react. Letting out a huge exhale, you stood up and proceeded to your brewery to grab another bottle of whiskey.

Pouring one into the glass and taking it as medicine for missing Mina a lot again alleviates the loneliness from the state you are in. You kept your composure; you know the time is running out, and you just had to remain still and focus on the plan.

The more you keep remembering Mina, the more you have begun to appreciate every aspect of her, even more than you have ever crossed your mind. But then you have seemed to notice that whenever you have an episode of this, a strange feeling is lingering inside your heart.

Which led you to speculate if maybe you are now enjoying the existence of Mina like, way more or far away from just being a friend or a companion that you met when you were alone strolling through the forest. The thoughts of her being actually deadly gorgeous in a way that is obviously not a normal compliment anymore and her admiring personality have captured your attention further to how she really is as a mesmerizing woman.

You looked at the door shut, missing those moments where Mina would just freely sweep open through it and greet you with her gummy smile and her adorable cheeks that puff whenever she’s happy. If only she can visit you again, it will not be the same exchange that you’ll definitely do for her this time.

You owe her one that is more than that, that’s why. But then you took note that you'd save it for later as the perfect time is about to arrive soon nonetheless.

You checked the time and it's been quarter to 1 AM already. You also became aware that you’re starting to get drunk now. The alcohol increased the emotions you’ve been caging up inside, causing you to lose control that results to your tears containing the minimum of what you’re entirely feeling right now that’s making you obvious that you simply want to see Mina again.

You swore that you wouldn't call for her to keep your focus on the plan but at your drunken state, you have gotten lost out of your control, betraying your very own words.

You kept on mentioning Mina's name as you promised to yourself that you’ll come find and save her because if you don’t, you aren’t sure at all on what you can do without her.

And at the same time as when Mina declares to herself that she needs you, it wasn’t coincidental that you share the same sentiment.

Timeskip to 4AM early in the morning, Mina was peacefully sleeping on her bed when her enhanced senses had her alerted back to conscience. She rose from the bed and noticed some flashing lights and growing silhouettes coming from outside the window. It should’ve been dark and quiet during this time since it was still too early.

Checking out to gain a better glimpse of what source its coming from, she observed that the townspeople are marching into her house all bringing their tall torches and knives with them.

“Is there a ceremony being performed today? W-why are they making their way through here?” Mina then watched them seperate, in a form that they’re surrounding her house.

“D-do they know already?” Getting the hint that they all are now aware of her true nature, based on the knives and torches they brough with them, she became scared that this will be the time that she'll die.

They all began to yell and some went on to bump the front door repeatedly. Mina rushes to close the door of her bedroom. Hearing the door collapse from outside, footsteps and chatters came near towards her hiding place.

Mina started to block the door with her body as the townspeople banged through her door again, their intentions come full obvious that they came here with one objective, and that is to eliminate the impostor that has been living with them all along.

“Ah! P-please, stop!” she yelps and cries for mercy as she remains to secure all the doors for her safety while they barge into her place, she wishes for you to come for the last time

until she heard series of growls, curses, and screams from outside.

She tried to take a peek through the little gap that she made by opening the door a little. “YN!!!!!!!” Mina became horrified to witness you getting teamed up by your fellow townspeople with some dead people lying around as they bathe in their own blood along with some scattered through the walls because of what you did.

With your bloody huge knife, she realized that you came all around here to rescue Mina only to get outnumbered because of the ampunt of townspeople gathered to hunt and kill her kind.

“MINA!!! RUNNNN!!!!!” She heard you yell for her name while being battered and dominated by your monstrous townsmen. They all looked around to find her, and they spotted Mina peeking through the door.

She closed it again and barricaded it with her body. Their more aggressive bumps and your wails with your brutally awful state had Mina whimpering and crying poorly.

The pity she feels for you however loaded her infuriation. Every second her eyes blink, her pupils flicker into a purplish color. As she gritted her teeth, her hands clawed with some bio-kinetic energy forming like a ball through her grasp.

Her hair floats at the intense air caused by her transformation, and suddenly her witch powers awakened. She points her hands at the door and blast through it, sending all the townspeople back. The rest looked at her horrifyingly as Mina steps out of the shadows with her figure beaming in all purplish magic.

“KILL THE WITCH!!!�� The all roared but Mina used her magic to dismantle every townspeople who go against her and YN, all in brutal fashion.

After she splits a woman in half in mid air with her innards and blood splattered across the room and into her face, she then got caught by the last three men by firing bullets at her, making her groan in pain.

They were about to do a double tap when you quickly stood back up despite being wrapped around in ropes. You attacked them by tackling and headbutting them away from Mina before you leave them for her to finish them all by exploding their brains out.

As she slowly calmed down and degenerates her magic, she breathe heavily and saw you staring at her in awe, speechless at her true identity as a witch. You know who she really is, but this is the first time you’ve seen her in her full potential.

Mina got afraid of how you will but in her surprise, you ran through her and reconciled with her in an embrace.

“A-aren’t you scared of me?”

“Of who you really are? I have accepted you since the beginning, I’m rather scared of what they might do to you.”

She immediately broke down in tears around your arms. “W-where have you’ve been all time? I thought you’ll leave me forever.”

“I’m sorry, Mina. I know, it’s all my fault that I didn’t inform you at all, but its all according to my plan and it has to be done.”

“So you knew about this?”

“I did. I overheard my tutors that one of them discovered your background of being a Myoui, a well-known family came from a coven of witches that they’ve… k-killed years ago. And since they knew me being close to you, I hide and there, I began making my plan to rescue you with the help of an informant.” You revealed the reason to your disappearance.

“Y-you did that f-for me? B-but you hurt yourself came all the way back here because of me… and you killed your-”

“Ofcourse and I don’t care about it, I rather can’t consume the guilt more of having you harmed than killing others who dares to lay their abusive hands at you. Y-you’re… you’re the only person I care… and love the most than anyone, Mina. You’re the only one I have left as much as you have me only in your life. I came here not just because I have to save you. I need you now, Mina. I can’t wait any longer again to see you.”

Mina cried again and buried her head deeper in your chest. “I need you now too, YN. And always. I’ve waited for you to come back.”

“And I’m here now, Mina. I’m never going away anymore. Whoever come across against us, we’ll face them together.”

You kissed her on the lips after breaking your hug with her. She was shocked at your action but it didn’t took her more time to catch up with your movement. As you and Mina stare at each other, both then smiled at this new found relationship that grew within your bond.

You helped Mina stand up and covered all her gunshot wounds, not minding your own evidence of violence through your beaten body. “I think we should go now, others will start coming here and they won’t like what they’re gonna see.”

You offered her hand at her and she looked at it before she returned her gaze at your face. “Should we run away from here?”

“I’ll follow you wherever we go.” Mina accepted, holding your hand with firm grip, enough to consider that she’ll forever stay by your side.

You nodded at her. Pulling her along with you, both left her house and all the deceased fellow townspeople inside as you escape the grotesque scene with Mina.

[ejundo]

genre; fluff?’

(js yr regular fic ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ)

Morinozuka Takashi x Book worm!Male Reader

m.n = just insert ur name it means “my name” but obvs its not me . its YOU!!

FEM DNI WITH MY WORK!! THIS IS STRICTLYY FOR MALE READERS. YOU HAVE PLENTY OF TALENTED PEOPLE WHO WOULD GLADLY WRITE FOR YOUU.

warning;

height difference , reader short like abt 5ft 4in , mori tall per usual. NERDY reader. reader is a boy , purposely lowercase!! bad grammar [english sucks] .🐾

sum; reader coincidentally bumps into morinozuka while trying to make his way towards the book club he started.. possibly sparking an interest in one another?

requested?; no || yes

— there are no male readers for mori or just OHSHC IN GENERAL. so why not do it myself!!!! [i dont rwsd my own stories]

m.n isn’t really known / “popular.” he occasionally kept to himself with his many books. he was so invested and interested in books that he made a book club.

.

.

.

it flopped. nobody ever really came to the club , hell nobody was in the club! well , other then m.n himself though..regardless of that. he enjoyed the peace and quiet he had when studying, and reading. nobody to bother him and his wonderful precious books!

pushing aside his many books, he also studied other people. it isn’t weird.. he just rather learn who too avoid and who is okay to stick by. he learned that the bratty self obnoxious over confident girls were best to avoid as they’d most likely spit mean comments out of their spoiled mouth.

though , while observing the many students of ouran. his eyes would always observe this one specific person. his name was morinozuka. He was tall , quiet , and seemed caring to his cousin, haninozuka or.. otherwise called “hani.” m.n knew these details and “facts” because of the students who spoke about the ouran host club! he wasn’t interested in such things as the host club, thinking of it as a waste of time .. and overall weird. flirting with others just to raise your reputation? how pointless.

though, it seems that this must be m.n’s lucky day! and on this day as of right now.. it was the end of class more specifically club hours. and due to m.n being a major nerd and the leader of the book club that nobody is aware of he quickly rushed out of the classroom so he wouldn’t bump into any sort of trouble.

gladly he didnt. and so he made his way towards the court area. passing by big green maze.. he wasn’t aware of the club he slightly despised was hosting one of their stupid club activities out there so…

then. he took a sharp left and his head collided with another students chest?, his glasses (yes glasses.) were knocked down as he fell back, his books scattered as he caught himself.. on the ground.

he groaned in pain, opening his eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to get any dirt out, the person who he bumped into bent down and gathered all of m.n’s stuff. even being so kind to put m.ns glasses on for m.n.

his eyebrows furrowed as he cleaned the lenses, he pushed his glasses up back on the bridge of his nose, then stared at the culprit who bumped into him.

m.n realized who it was, it was the one who he observed every time..it was.. i think you know. he blinked rapidly and got up onto his feet, he bowed and muttered countless of apologies. mori only stood in silence watching as the other apologized like he just spilt boiling hot coffee all over his face..

m.n lifted his head up and stared at mori, looking directly into his eyes. they looked unfazed and slightly cold, m.n nervously chuckled before standing up correctly fixing his posture and dusting off any dust or dirt.

m.n quickly scrambled away. mori watching as the h.c boy scurried off, he was surely interesting. so interesting mori was intrigued by him..

maybe just maybe one day the two will meet, and maybe that would be m.n’s lucky, chance to ask the host on a date… not like he really will…

LORDDDD , i am finally done.. i am sooo sorry for having like the LONGEST writers block ever.. and it seems i sitll have like barely ANY motivation. [this isnt really proofread] AND MB IF ITS HORRID. i literally rushed through this entire story not giving one fuck bruh. i just wanted to finish this so i can write for my ocs 🙏

[burning--death]

Write your URL out in song titles. (Bonus: add your favorite lyrics.)

be nice to me - The Front Bottoms //  You say I'm changing - Sorry I didn't know I had to stay the same

underground - Cody Fry //  I threw my voice into the dark - But the dark had no remark - Just repeated what I said

record player - Daisy the Great, AJR //  'Cause I don't wanna do the wrong thing - Guess I gotta go and get famous for doin' nothing

notion - The Rare Occasions //  But I don't need the comfort of any lies - For I have seen the ending and there is no ascending (...) - If you could pull the lever to carry on forever - Would your life even matter anymore?

it’s called: freefall - Rainbow Kitten Surprise //  Called to the Devil and the Devil said, "Quit - Can't be bothered, better handle y'all shit (...) - Anyway, you say you're too busy - Savin' everybody else to save yourself - And you don't want no help, oh well - That's the story to tell”

numb little bug - Em Beihold //  A little bit tired of tryin' to care when I don't - A little bit tired of quick repairs to cope - A little bit tired of sinking - There's water in my boat - I'm barely breathin' - Tryna stay afloat

good grief - Bastille //  Caught off guard by your favorite song - I'll be dancing at a funeral

discord - The Living Tombstone //  A terrible catastrophe played by your symphony - What a terrifying work of art

eat your young - Hozier //  Let me wrap my teeth around the world

achilles come down - Gang of Youths //  How the most dangerous thing is to love (...)  You are absent of cause or excuse - So self-indulgent and self-referential - No audience could ever want you - You crave the applause yet hate the attention - Then miss it, your act is a ruse - It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now - It's a pointless resistance for you

the 90s - Finneas //  All the time I should've been so happy, I was here - Wasting it on worrying, just made it disappear

hard times - Paramore //  (Hard Times) gonna make you wonder why you even try - (Hard times) gonna take you down and laugh when you cry - (These lives) and I still don't know how I even survive (Hard Times)

tagged by @golden-violet 

tagging  @maleficis  @godmther @newlight @cursed-idiot @troublemakeer @never-be-tamed and anyone who wants to do it

[thissliceofnonsense]

(tumblr deleted my post, sadness.) - actually this is posted to the wrong blog. Actual one is @anulithots

If Anuli were suddenly the ruler of the world?

Well, fae doesn't exactly love responsibility... in fact, I'll let faer answer this question faerself. TW for self-deprecation

"Wut...

That is first draft levels of nonsense. Me? A villain? The leader of the world? I might... everything I've ever done has fallen apart, the word won't survive me, it won't even tolerate me.

The ending of this... purely hypothetical plotline, well, it would be the epitome of disaster and disappointment. The foreshadowing was there. An incompetent, sorry excuse for an antagonist telling everyone what to do? The world would be on fire after the first day.

....

Although... if I were perhaps... the writer of this story, that could work. Storytelling is my redeeming trait after all.

Erhm... how about this? I'll make my revisions and send this world off to a more competent individual, like Kamari...

Or I could see what nonsense Floa creates... the possibilities...

....

definitely Kamari.

....

My apologies... what were we talking about?

We.. sorry, I'm talking too much, that always ends in disaster. Once I told the Mother Fairy I was a fallen fairy and made everything so so so much worse...

Ah, sorry. Am I saying sorry too much?

... most of this is usually thoughts. Words never come out right. Oh wait, that sounds like self-justification, I promise it's not. Disclaimers, disclaimers.

... Oh! Hypothetical if-I-ruled-the-world. (You didn't actually do this... right? If you did.... well, plot holes.... you should run.)

Other than the inevitable disaster from having an incompetent, selfish being in charge. I would make revisions to... two things. Fallen Faries and Pixies.

They should all be friends, who needs pointless drama and conflict after all? And no, this is not "the magic of friendship", I too, despise that trope - unless for angst purposes - I simply think that the whole... whatever they have going on is a pretty pointless plotline.

Unless it's metaphorical, it's pointless, and I shall die on this hill.

Fallen fairies shouldn't have to be automatically synonymous with antagonists... well, not all of them are antagonists, I'm an antagonist, sure, but not all of them are..... I think. I haven't met the others technically technically, I'm a danger to them too.

Erhmm.. well, I don't think they should be taken away or treated like filfth... although they have a backstory reason, tree-less dangerous fairies and I'm a prime example of this...

oh I'm not saying any of this right. I do appreciate you listening though, or not listening. That's okay. I just need to talk... thoughts swirl off into oblivion.

Hmph, the effects of letting fallen fairies not being fallen fairies? Well, they like being in their community, and the other fairies would ostracize them and they were right about me.,..

Plot holes and Darling murders. There's no resolution to this.

There's no way I can fix this. I can't even fix myself.

Why did I think I could do this?

I'm sorry for wasting your time.

I'll just.. hand this over to Kamari.

OR....

Ok, if I hand it to Kamari, and now I can tell whichever morbid story I want to tell, for funzies.

More fairies would contemplate that existence is weird and storytelling would be okay and not filth and we would watch the lives of bugs and flowers and be reminded of our own mortality, and I could tell stories where the protagonists dance over the rotten bodies of their enemies in an ironic twist of fate.

But.. it all works only in stories. Once the real world is involved, it all falls apart... even in stories it falls apart. Conflict makes fiction and... what if there's no answer? What if every aha moment, every resolution, meant that the story itself couldn't exist anymore.. which, the story ends at that point, right?

Does that mean there's no answer to any of this?

... oh sorry. I'm not due for an existential crisis until a 'darkest hour' and this story is already over.

Anywho, Kamari would make a better ruler of the ruler of the world.. I'd just... talk like this and never actually do any of it... that or I'd mess something up immediately. I'd try to resolve a conflict and end up making them hate each other. Such is the fate of a storyteller I suppose, we are experts at creating conflict. "

Tl;DR - Anuli would try to hand off the responsibility to someone else because fae fears responsibility.

Question for next person - What is your OC's most "childish but I don't care because it makes me happy" trait?

Tagging- @batzyx @moonluringfrost @gummybugg @carcass-confessions @lorenfinch

OKAY!

WRITEBLRS if you're seeing this, you're legally obligated to reblog with an answer, and then a new question for the next person!

Here's the start:

Which of your OCs is most likely to punch somebody in the face?

[enchantestuff]

miscommunication - charles leclerc

in which your Pierres little sister and reap the consequences after an eventful night in Monaco with his best friend

I think I'm going to make this into a series, like 3 more parts maybe??

part two

GIF NOT MINE!!!

warnings: smut, my failed attempt at angst (I tried), language, em yeah

3k words (I have no idea how that happened) 

You had known Charles for years, which wasn't particularly surprising considering you were Pierres little sister.

When you were little you envied their friendship, constantly trying to insert yourself in their games and conversations. You had lost count of the amount of times they slammed a door in your face, demanding you to leave them alone. You hadn’t realised how annoying you were being as you followed them around everywhere, even if Pierre had scolded you for it each day.

When you were a teenager, Pierre purposely kept Charles away from you, telling him that if he even looked in your direction he wouldn't hesitate to end their friendship. You, of course, had no idea of the threat not that it mattered as you didn't paid any attention to the infamous duo during those few years, living in your own little world full of clothes , friends and different boys.

Now, however, you were an adult and all you wanted to do was support your brother throughout his career. In recent years you had gone to as many races as you physically could, but of course you had your own job and unfortunately didn’t have the time to attend any race this season.

Pierre was disappointed, he loved having you there to support him, but he understood that you had your own life and never placed any blame on you. After years of the two of you constantly ignoring each other and bickering, you had finally begun to act like siblings and all he wanted to do was make up for lost time.

You had thankfully gotten three weeks off work - well they weren’t necessarily weeks off as you still had to do your job, but your boss insisted that there was no need for you to trek to the office everyday when you were perfectly capable of doing the work at home on your laptop. The timing couldn't have been better with the triple header just around the corner, it almost seemed like a miracle and you were gonna enjoy every minute of it.

You grinned as you texted your brother.

Any spare tickets to the race :)

He replied almost immediately.

You're kidding, which one?

All of them?

Your texting was cut off by Pierres contact photo appearing on your phone. You answered instantly only to hear Pierre screaming through your speakers, he also slipped in a few delighted curse words before finally letting you talk.

“My boss gave me the next three weeks off so I’m going to go support my favourite brother” you grinned.

“Your only brother” he remarked and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

You spent the next few hours catching up and retelling pointless stories. You had gone to sleep with a lazy smile on your face and  woke up the next morning to a text from Pierre, telling you that he had organized your passes for the three weekends as well as the flights, all you had to do was find a hotel. He slipped in the name of the hotel that he was staying at, and to your luck there was still room available. Now all that was left to do was wait.

You grinned giddy as you stepped off the plane and walked toward the baggage collection area, excited to finally get back to watching races in person. You rubbed your eyes in surprise when you spotted your brother waiting for you. “Pierre?” you screamed delightly, running up to him and pushing his body into a bone crushing hug. It felt like you hadn’t seen him in forever even if it was only a few months.

“Bonjour,” he laughed as he hugged you back.

“I thought you were busy all day today” you exclaimed once you pulled away from him.

He sheepishly shrugged at you with a lazy grin on his face. “I may have lied, are you ready to go?”

You nodded your head at him and for the first time in a long time your mind drifted towards your brother's best friend, Charles, who you hadn’t spoken to since an eventful night in Monaco a few months ago.

You cursed yourself as you thought back to that very moment.

Charles was having a party at his lovely home, you can't remember now what you were celebrating but everyone was ecstatic. You could hear the music from across the street and you knew before you even entered the house that it was going to be a night to remember.

The moment you stepped foot inside you were surrounded by multiple drunk people, all with large grins and hooded eyes plastered on them and you laughed as almost everyone stumbled around the house.

You spotted your brother in the middle of the room dancing with a pretty blonde, he had a goofy smile on his face and you knew from that sight of him alone that he was wasted. You were the only sober person there, at least that's what you thought until Charles had made his way to you with two cups in his hand, alcohol for you and water for him.

“I thought you were celebrating,” you mused as you took a sip of the dark liquor.

“Someone needs to keep these drunk idiots in check,” he joked.

“Well in that case” you said as you handed your drink to a stranger and took a sip of his water instead. You laughed at the bewildered look he threw your way before continuing, “I'm not going to let you tackle this party alone.” The smile that formed on Charles was genuine and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight.

You surprisingly enjoyed yourself the whole night, maybe that was because you knew everyone there, but most likely it was because you spent the whole night with Charles.

A few hours into the party he turned to you asking to dance, you didn't even hesitate to say yes, nerves surrounded you immediately and they only got worse when his hands dipped dangerously low on your hips. Your eyes automatically searched for Pierre and you left out a sigh of relief when you couldn't find him anywhere.

The thought of getting caught fueled both you and Charles, so when he spun you around to face him neither of you hesitated to connect your lips. You considered yourself lucky that everyone around you was too drunk to notice your heated make out and used it to your advantage. You pulled him even closer to you, moaning in his ear when he grabbed your bum and giggling at the whimper he let out.

You felt dizzy. The fact that you were both sober made your first kiss even more real.

You were anxious when he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere more private but agreed nevertheless, hoping that maybe he had wanted you for as long as you had wanted him.

He had tenderly kissed you again once he closed the door behind him.

“God, you have no idea how long i've waited to do this,” he moaned in your ear and although you knew that was just something people said in the heat of the moment, you let yourself believe it. You let yourself believe every single word that left his lips and got even more attached to the moment.

You revealed a piece of yourself to him that night, not only a physical part, but a part of your heart as you admitted your deepest secrets to him. “Fuck, Charles, I’ve always wanted you,” you moaned when he gently placed you on the bed.

You attached yourself to the kisses he placed all over your body, you paid attention to every bit of affection that he showed you, never once wanting him to stop. When he positioned himself next to you and asked if you were sure you told him there was nothing you've ever been more sure about.

You had both simultaneously moaned when he entered you, laughing at each other afterwards, which made your heart flutter. He was Charles, your brothers best friend and yet sex with him felt so natural.

He placed a tender kiss to your chest before he started moving and you couldn't help but hold him close to you, he didn't seem to mind however as he nested his head in the crook of your neck, letting you hear all the soft gasps and grunts that left his mouth.

You arched your back in pleasure when he reached the deepest parts inside you, your toes curled and your eyes rolled back and all you could think was God why didn't we do this sooner?

“Don't stop, please Charles, don't stop” you moaned in his ear, and if you weren't in a completely different world you would have noticed the shiver than ran down his entire body at your words.

“Trust me, mon amour, i never want to stop”

You weren't even aware of the moans the left your lips until Charles had grabbed your chin and looked at you with desperation written all over his face, “Merde, Y/N, i want more than anything to make this moment last but If you keep making those pretty little sounds you're gonna make me cum”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words “Shut me up then”

And he did, he grunted as he reconnected your lips, swallowing your moans and letting out his own in the process. From the kissing, to Charles’ moans and the rolling of his hips it didn't take you long to release the knot in your stomach.

You regretted it now, thinking back on it, it had completely ruined your friendship with Charles. Your daily silly texts to each other had ceased to exist, your weekly facetime calls had died and a piece of you had broken.

You didn’t expect any less, he was your brother's best friend and even though you always found him insanely attractive, you knew deep down he would have found your little crush on him weird. You always had the suspicion that he saw you as a little sister, and the way he completely ignored you after your hookup had proven them to be true.

You couldn't hate him, or even place the blame of your failed friendship on him as you also went out of your way to ignore him, something that you really regretted but couldn’t change.

“You alright?” Pierre asked as he grabbed your suitcase in his hand.

“Yeah sorry i - i don't know what happened to me there,” you choked out, walking alongside Pierre to his car.

“It's free practice tomorrow, you coming?” he asked once you were both sitting comfortably in his car.

“Yeah, of course” you nodded as you watched the tall buildings pass by in the window.

“Everyones misses you, you know?” he quickly glanced over at you while he drove, wondering what the hell you were thinking so hard about.

“Yep” you sighed, “Me too,” but all you could think about was the Ferrari driver and how awkward it would be to see him again

You had shut yourself in your hotel room for the rest of the night, the flight and overly long check in had taken all the remaining energy out of you and all you wanted to do was curl into the hotel bed and sleep for as long as you possibly could. So that's what you did, until Pierre rang your phone, telling you that he was leaving for free practice in half an hour, wondering if you needed lift, which of course you did you had mumbled to him while scrabbling out of the bed and running to your bathroom to take the quickest shower of your life.

You had somehow gotten ready in time and before you knew it you were walking around the paddock with Pierre next to you, basking in the glorious sun.

Pierre whistled in excitement when he spotted Charles walking out of the Ferrari motorhome. The brunette quickly turned at the sound, a smile forming on his face when he spotted Pierre, his eyebrows raising soon after as he finally noticed you next to him. Your heart beat loudly in your chest as he got closer and closer to you.

You stood firmly in your spot, uncertain if a hug would be too big of an action after months of silence between you both, quite frankly you didn’t even want to touch him, the pain that he had caused you cutting too deep. Unfortunately, he beamed at you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest and rocking you both side to side.

“Hi,” you laughed, unwilling to cause a scene in front of your brother, you moved your arms to wrap around his neck.

“It's great to see you” he admitted when he pulled away and you felt your throat close up at his words. “I’ve missed you”

“I missed you too,” you smiled and although it wasn’t a lie, the words felt dirty leaving your lips. You shouldnt have missed him, not when he left you lying alone in his bed after you both had sex.

“God, you're acting like you haven't spoken to each other in months,” Pierre laughed, and you and Charles shared an awkward look with each other. The silence that followed was unbearable.

You cleared your throat as you looked around the paddock. “I'm going to get some water” you quickly spilled out and abruptly turned in the other direction, ignoring the confused look that Pierre shot in your direction. You had only taken a few steps when Charles grabbed your arm and pulled you behind a random building.

“Shh it's me” he flinched as you pushed yourself away from him, “it's me” he repeated looking at the bewildered expression on your face.

“You couldn’t have just talked to me like a normal human being?” you argued, “Did you really have to drag me behind a building?”

“I couldn't talk about you know what around you know who” he threw back and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh! You dont want to talk about us having sex infronf of Pierre” you snapped and he covered your mouth with his hand. You bit his hand and he gasped in response.

“You bit me!” he half shouted.

“You didn’t seem to mind last time” you commented , relishing in how flustered Charles had gotten.

“We need to talk about that” he choked out, looking absolutely anywhere except your eyes.

“Oh so now you want to talk about it?” you asked with an accusing tone to your voice, surpringing not only Charles but also yourself.

“I know it was a dick move, I just” he sighed “I didn’t know how to bring it up”

“How about maybe not leaving straight away? How about sending me a text explaining how you felt instead of leaving me in the dark for months? If you thought it was a mistake you could have just-”

“I didn't think it was a mistake”

You couldn't help the effect those words had on your heart, but suddenly you were even more furious, he was unintentionally playing with your heart and you didn't know how much more of it you could take.

“Then why didn't you tell me!”

You were frustrated and he wasn’t helping one bit. He had left it too late, the damage was done, you had spent months regretting your decision to climb into bed with him and a few words lazily strung together to form a sentence wasn't going to erase the emotional damage he caused you. It didn't matter anymore whether it was intentional or not

“I didn't want to ruin our friendship”

“That is the dumbest excuse I've ever heard!”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes and all you wanted to do was sob your heart out, but you refused to cry in front of him, you didn't want him to know the effect he had on you. “Look your late and i - i need to breathe”

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you ran away, unable to face the boy who broke your heart: the boy who had given you everything you could possibly want, only to snatch it out of your grasp.

You cursed yourself for getting attached to that moment because now, every time you closed your eyes, all you see was him panting on top of you and all you could feel was his lips on your skin. It was a memory that used to delight you but now all it brought was sadness and pain.

You knew your attachment issues would bring you pain one day, but only now as you crouched down next to some random building, did you realise it would be physical pain. You clawed at your neck in desperation. You couldn't breathe. Your tears were practically suffocating you and you couldn't help but think Charles' hands ripping your heart from your chest was the cause.

Unknowingly to you, Charles watched your retreating figure with tears forming behind his eyes. It had finally hit him how much he fucked things up. He thought he was doing the right thing, he thought maybe you needed space, maybe you would have regretted it.

He wore his heart on his sleeve that day, everything that he told you was true, he was just so scared. So scared that he would be left heartbroken, that his feelings were unrequited, that maybe, just maybe, you would be disgusted with yourself for what you two did.

He left early the next morning to hype himself up, to finally tell you about his feelings for you that had been bubbling around in his stomach for years, but when he returned to his bedroom you were gone.

He didn't realise how much waking up to an empty bed would affect you, just as much as you didnt realise how much leaving would affect him.

He was never good at communication, but it was so easy with you, so why didn't he pick up the phone? He had no excuse except that he was scared.

It was his fear that hurt him the most. It was his fear that broke your heart and that had hurt him so much more than he thought was possible.

[glitxhwayventeen]

Her. (Part 1)

Characters: Joshua Hong (I mean he’s not technically in it but it’s completely about him) x Yoon Jeonghan x Female Reader

Genre: Unrequited love, angst, longing, mostly sadness tbh, one shot mayb?, proposal scenario

Warnings: Hella angst (made me sad writing it but I like it still), lots of panicking and sadness of the reader, Jeonghan low key being an ass but also he’s a sweet heart, Shua is also low key oblivious to love, mentions of throwing up, unrequited love?, mentions of unsafe driving (implied texting while driving), more angst

Author’s Note: So I wrote this literally 30 minutes ago on my lunch break for no reason other than because it popped into my head from a memory of a story I once read on here about Seungcheol (I can’t remember who it was or what the title was sorry if it was you or you know which one I’m talking about let me know please so i can give credit for the idea!)

Her. - Part 2

“Did you remember to grab my purple bag? The one with the few different dresses in a few different sizes in case a better one’s needed for later?” You quizzed your other best friend and wiped under your eyes for any fallen mascara as he chuckles almost angrily at you.

“Yes, (Y/N). Just like you told me to.” Jeonghan growled.

You knew he was annoyed that you kept asking him to pick very specific things up for you. And you did feel bad for basically making him an errand boy.

But you had to bring everything, no one else would think to, “And the one with the flowers? The little pinky white one that Shua got me for my birthday two years ago, did you remember to get that one too? It’s got extra hair clips, some brushes, and some different nail polish colors in it that we might need later.” You asked him while shifting your hair from one side to the other nervously.

In your friend group of 14 people, you were the only girl, and apparently the only one who realized that you can’t just surprise most girls with pictures and expect them to be happy about it.

“I can’t believe you’re sitting here talking about different dress sizes and nail/hair styling kits you’ve packed in case ‘she’ needs it in case ‘she’ didn’t prepare because this whole thing is a surprise.” Jeonghan scoffed as his one hand gripped the steering wheel tighter while his other hand found it’s way to the phone that was in his car’s middle console.

He had only really ‘loved’ three things in his life: his car, his phone, and his friends. Though he had never actually been in love before, which was fine because he didn’t want to be. He thought love was pointless and a waste of time and money.

But he knew you had deeply in it for most of your life, you were just too chicken to say it out loud. He always thought you and your other best friend Joshua would be the perfect match, you both just seemed to be too blinded by your friendship and nerves to see it.

“You think he’s about to get engaged to another woman, a woman he hasn’t even told you whether you’ve even met and know nothing about by the way, and you have nothing to say about it? Nothing at all? Are you even okay?” He questioned while he began to type something quickly into his dangerous little device that was sure to one day get him into an accident.

You knew he had a point and reason for concern. You, Jeonghan, and Joshua had all shared an apartment together for the past four years and Joshua hadn’t once brought a girl home. He hardly ever even brought them to the parties or hangouts your other friends threw either. Of course you still knew he must’ve had girlfriends and hookups, you figured they just weren’t serious enough for Jisoo to feel comfortable bringing them around. The lack of presence of them made you and Jeonghan even tease him that he was too embarrassed of the both of you to ever bring them around.

Truthfully however, you were always grateful he never brought anyone back to your shared living space. You just knew you couldn’t take the sound of him being with another girl less than 20 feet away from you. The thought alone made you physically sick to your stomach, so you knew the reality would actually make you hurl. No matter what though, you never once actually thought that any of those flings had been THAT important to him.

But you were wrong apparently. VERY VERY wrong.

“Pffff don’t be ridiculous Hannie!” You half chuckled as you tried to hide your real feelings from your best friend, “I’ve got nothing to say at all about it,” you attempted to speak nonchalantly, “But I do have something to say to you, and that is that you should put your damn phone down before you run us off the road!” You told him in a slightly chastising tone as you gestured to the little electronic device in his hand.

Though you couldn’t help but fidget with your seat belt that was all but crushing your poor boobs to distract yourself from the conversation you were having at the same time. You just wanted all of it to be over and done with already.

In all honesty, of course you weren’t okay. But Jeonghan didn’t need to know that. If he knew how shattered you truly were inside over the whole thing, he’d do everything in his power as your now seemingly only remaining best friend to help you.

He’d want to try and fix you and, unfortunately for you, the situation at hand wasn’t something that could be magically fixed with one of his crushing side hugs and famous dirty jokes. It was a real life ‘stuck between a rock and a hard place’ scenerio and you had no means of escape.

You just had to pretend. That was to be your new mantra until the situation was all over. You just had to pretend for just for a little while longer and everything would be fine.

You just had to keep it together until the proposal was finished, then you could crawl into the sheets of your welcoming bed and cry until you had no more tears left to shed and your eyes were raw, puffy, and swollen.

Till then, you had to blink away any water that formed along your waterlines and focus on the main goal at hand: making sure everything went smoothly and efficiently for Joshua so he could have the girl of his dreams.

Jeonghan just rolled his eyes as he scrolled through his phone and continued to steer his precious car to the proper side of the seemingly never ending asphalt.

But just as you thought maybe he had let the subject go, he then quickly pulled over, easily placing his car in park, and turned to you in seconds, “Motherfucker!” He all but shouted in your ear, sounding slightly ticked off at your antics and your easy going attitude about the entire life changing event that was about to take place, “You told him you loved him back at the hotel, and don’t act like you didn’t I heard you!” He insisted, nostrils flaring at the memory of the sad scene he had witnessed.

“You were so fucking close to the happily ever after you always wanted with him. Sooooo fucking close!” He emphasized with his gripping fingers, almost looking desperate as he went on with his rant, “You had him in the palm of your hands (Y/N)! You just had to stop and follow through with your train of thought for once. All you had to do was finish your sentence motherfucker. You just needed to finish that one fucking sentence! But you didn’t!” He shook his head in disbelief and threw his hands in the air like a mad man, acting as if he hadn’t witnessed all he had in the past 24 hours.

You wanted to cry at the boy’s harsh words. Part of you hated him for saying it all out loud the way he had. But you had to admit part of you loved him for it. For better or for worse, Jeonghan was your best friend for a reason. He knew you inside and out, he also knew Joshua inside and out.

His personality was the complete opposite of both yours and Joshua’s yet you both maintained your friendship with him over the years time and time again. And for good reason: at the end of the day he loved you both and always tried to keep you happy.

He loved you more than his own shredded family, and he easily loved you more than any of his other friends, and he loved you both more than he cared for his own self.

He’d gladly take a bullet for either of you if he thought he could spare you once second of pain. And he especially didn’t like seeing you so hurt simply because you were in love with a man you thought would never see you in a romantic way. But Jeonghan could see you both for what you really were.

He knew and he just couldn’t keep all his emotions on the subject locked away to keep you comfortable any longer. Even though you exhausted him to no end with your roller coaster emotions, he loved you like a sister. It was time for you to open your eyes.

So you would just have to sit and listen to him scold you, “You’ve loved him for how long now? Going on 19 years? You’ve seen him with other girls before and I just know that shit bothered you.” Jeonghan practically snarled as he waved his finger in front of you, “I could see the pain in your eyes every time he’d hold one of their hands or give one of them a kiss on the cheek.”

Was he being a little too hard on you? Maybe. But he knew sometimes tough love was the only way to get you to see reason and for you to realize that you didn’t always have to be so strong. So he had to say what he had to say and he had to do what he had to do.

“I could see that you wanted to step up and say something everytime it happened then but you never did because you always thought they’d just pass right along as if they were nothing to him.” You could practically feel the venom in his voice the longer he continued his rant.

Because Jeonghan didn’t have significant others or family stuff to distract him like you and Joshua did, it gave him the ability to see everything for what it was and be there to witness everything without you two even realizing it. It gave him a sense of absolute clarity.

Like in kindergarten when you left your lunch box on the table and went to play and the other kids swapped your animal crackers behind your back for celery sticks. They were your favorite and he knew you’d be devastated by their loss, so Joshua quickly switched your snack out for his own crackers so you wouldn’t know.

Or like when you were all in middle school and some random girls were making fun of Joshua’s thick braces he was insecure about. You swiftly and easily handled the situation and got them to stop by threatening to cut all the girls hair off during your shared time at summer camp a few weeks later.

There was also the time when Shua was first learning how to play guitar, which he was by no means good at, and wanted to start performing in front of people but was short of volunteers. Hannie had always found it a little odd that you were seemingly constantly willing to lend an all too generous and praising ear to allow the American boy to practice with an enthusiastic audience.

Jeonghan knew that Joshua had secretly been the one to give you your first valentine in third grade because all the other kids in class had made an unspoken pact to leave you out of their card exchange. Jisoo didn’t want you to feel sad or left out so he signed an anonymous card and slipped it into your brightly colored paper mailbox when you weren’t looking.

He even knew that you and Joshua had your first kisses together instead of with other people because you were both too scared of feeling uncomfortable around people you didn’t know as well as you knew each other and wanted the milestone to be special.

He could see the unspoken love you two shared with each other whether you did or not. And it killed him that it was all gonna be flushed down the drain because you refused to admit your attraction for the foreign boy out loud.

“But now he’s getting married (Y/N)! That’s pretty final!” He declared, completely drained of all his anger and suddenly fulled to the brim with sorrow and pity for you, “And you always said you’ve never had a good chance to tell him about your feelings for him. But today, today bitch, you had the most perfect chance, the only chance you had left to tell him how you felt might I add.” He began to run his shakey boney fingers through his platinum hair to calm and collect himself.

But Jeonghan also knew about the more devastating times you went through.

Like the night when you cried yourself to sleep when you found out Jisoo had gone on his first date. It was just some girl in his chem class he ended up losing interest in, but you stayed curled up in your bed for a week because of it.

There was also the time when your first ever dance rolled around and you waited for what felt like an eternity for Shua to ask you to go with him. He never did. Instead he got himself his very first girlfriend, who you fought with and hated solely because she treated you like you were a stranger to your best friend, which left Jeonghan the responsibility of taking you instead. The new couple ended up sneaking off towards the end of the night to the limo you all chipped in for for some more private time which caused a great depression within you and made you drink yourself half to death on spiked punch to dull the pain.

You didn’t say anything about either incident to Joshua or the heartbreak he had caused you so you could preserve your friendship with him. Time and time again you let Joshua go because you thought it would make him happier to be apart from you and to be with others. And Jeonghan was tired of it.

“He was right there ready for you. Right there!” He emphasized and gripped the lightened locks between his fingers tighter in frustration, “And you still couldn’t do it. You told him you loved him and that you were proud of him for ‘being so adult’ when you could’ve kissed him and told him you were in love with him and that you wanted to be with him! But you didn’t, you let him go instead. You let him slip right through your fingers (Y/N)! How could you possibly do that?”

You didn’t want to yell at the older male, but you had reached your limit. You were trying sooooo fucking hard to at least look like you were doing okay and Jeonghan just had a way of irritating the ever loving fuck out of you to upset you even more that, in that moment at least, you just couldn’t stand anymore. He had pushed you too far.

“Because it’s not about me, it’s about her!” You snapped, the tears that had once been damned atop your waterlines now spilling down the surface of your perfectly made up cheeks.

The damn had broken. Your put together persona had crumbled. You had tried to keep it together. You could say that at least.

But now? Now you had to let it out before you did something you were sure you’d regret in the long run and that would ruin the love of your life’s chances at a happiness.

Even if he wasn’t gonna actually be yours romantically forever, at least you could still be near him and watch him be smitten with his life. Being around him as a friend was better than nothing. As long as you had that, you told yourself you could survive.

“I don’t like this anymore than you do Jeonghan, BELIEVE ME! I never once prepared for this shit. I never once thought I would watch him slip away from me like this, not this fast and not this out of nowhere,” you whimpered toward the end of your sentence as you tried to choke back a small sob while Jeonghan grabbed and clutched his own comfort item, his phone, watching you finally break down the way he knew you were going to.

You thought you had time to mentally train yourself to deal with the situation of Joshua getting engaged. You were so suddenly forced into the position of the dutiful best woman to help him get his arrangements for the proposal ready that you hardly had the time to realize what was happening.

You were supposed to have time. Time to cherish every precious memory you’d never have time to make one he was hitched, time to covet every songful giggle he made that you’d eventually only here as a passerbyer, time to soak in every joyful smile you’d forever only get to see as an outsider. You should’ve had time to grieve your lost fantasy of you and him running off into the sunset together.

Hell, you thought you’d at least get to see the girl he’d choose to be his future wife and meet her so you could be certain that at least you’d lost him to someone more deserving of him.

But you didn’t get that luxury. You didn’t get to see her or meet her. You didn’t get to break apart every personality trait and physical attribute of the woman that would be ripping away the love of your life so she could have him all to herself. That shit stung.

The fact that all the proper mourning allotted to box away an unrequited love was taken from you, pulled away from you like a toy stolen from a child, so quickly, so easily, knocked all the wind out of your lungs and filled them with hot magma.

But there was nothing you could do about it. It was what it was.

“And no you’re right- I dont necessarily know who ‘her/she’ is just yet. Of fucking course you’re right about that.” You dryly chuckled, doing your best to stop yourself from hyperventilating due to the panic you radiating through your body at the thought of a stranger taking away the only man you’ve ever had feelings for, “But i do know that it’s not about me! I don’t matter now!” You paused for a moment to keep from choking on the huge lump that had managed to form in your throat at your desperate words and cleared your airway.

It was true, you weren’t the Moon to his Sun anymore. Your whole lives he had always been your rock, your partner in crime, your first and only love.

You loved living in his perfectly organized and structured makeshift place of creation. But now, he found someone else to share his solar system with. You had to come to accept that.

“What matters is her-” You thickly swallowed the bitterness and sadness lacing your voice and continued, “Because her happiness is the only happiness i care about because her happiness is his happiness and his happiness means everything to me!” You cried maybe a little too hard as you gripped the bag setting on your lap full of last minute touch up supplies for the love of your life’s love of his life a little too tightly, nails digging into the fabric the same way the words you spoke dug into your heart.

He had been your best friend since before preschool. Everything he ever did or said made you fall for him just a little deeper than the day before. Every time you cried, he held you. Every time he cried, you held him.

Through the good, the bad, and the ugly, Joshua Hong was your everything. Joshua Hong was your soulmate.

You were at the point in your friendship where you didn’t even have to tell him that you were upset, he’d just know. He knew your favorite snacks: super hot fry chips when you were sad and your very particular brand of generic gummy bears that could only be found at three stores in your area when you were happy.

He knew how you liked your coffee in the morning, two sugars and three pumps of cream. He knew the songs you loved with all your soul and the songs you hated with your entire being. He even knew you so well that he could finish just about every single one of your sentences in a flash before you knew what you were gonna say. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

He was a gentleman. Your gentleman. Well, he was your gentleman. Now, he’s hers, “I’ve loved him for forever. I’ll always love him!” You promised to no one in particular as Jeonghan stared at you doe eyed, phone suddenly squeezed in his hand tighter, “I’ll always be waiting for him. I’ll always have that dream of him finally grabbing my face and putting my heart all back together again by kissing away every tear I’ve ever shed for him.”

He would open every door for you so you wouldn’t have to, offer any coat or article of clothing he had on him when he thought you were cold, match any schedule of yours with his own so you could see each other, remember any anniversary or date you wanted him to. His calmness and softness balanced out your craziness and your hardness.

He was, by all accounts, the an amazing guy any girl could ever ask for, “But that doesn’t matter anymore.”

But for you, he was just the perfect fit. Everyone seemed to notice it but him. You were always there for each other. And you promised each other that you always would be, no matter how inconvenient it was or how much it hurt.

“That fantasy won’t ever happen. You think my feelings matter when he’s about to propose to another girl? No- Absolutely not. She’s what’s important now. Not me.” You declared, almost convincing enough to force that cold thought on yourself as the truth.

She was his world now. She was the Moon to his Sun now. She was what he wanted now. You had to put your childish feelings aside and be happy for him. He was still your best friend.

“So yes, I’ll put on a brave face and I’ll play the part of the dutiful best friend who thinks of everything that could/can go wrong because someone has to.”

He didn’t intentionally start out with the thought that him marrying her and asking for your help with the proposal would break your heart in two. He didn’t know you loved him the way he loved her. It wasn’t his fault. You couldn’t be mad or upset with him about it.

“I’ll pick out and fix his stupidly beautiful tie around his stupidly beautiful neck as he talks about how much he loves her over and over again.”

You wanted to just drop dead at the thought of the man you loved with all your heart choosing a different girl over you. But there was nothing you could do about it.

“I’ll stand there by his side through all the engagement photos he’s no doubt already got planned because he’s perfect with the happiest smile on my face. And if he starts to get cold feet on his actual wedding day, I’ll kick his ass all the way down the aisle till he says I do if I have to.”

It was a soul crushing feeling that you just knew would never go away, no matter how hard you’d end up trying to force it out. It was a permanent mix of longing and sorrow that would forever lay bare in your heart.

“Even if it means letting the love of my life go because I’m not her! She’s who he picked!”

The reality of your now heart jerking situation began setting into your chest like a hot ball of lead, “…She’s who he picked Jeonghan.”

You spoke softly, barely above a whisper, “It’s her and so she deserves the best because he is the best and he’s deemed her the best!”

It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of your lungs and been replaced with fire. You felt suffocated and too oxygenated at once and you just needed it all to stop.

“So would you shut up and drive to the stupid location already so we can get this done for him?! I’ll never forgive myself if we’re late when he needed us to be there on time.”

It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe. Every cell and molecule of your body was screaming in pain and, to Jeonghan, it was very much visible that you were 100 flavors of not okay. But there was just nothing either of you could do to remedy the situation. He realized that now.

You once again did what you thought was best and most wanted for your friend at the expense of your own happiness. As much as Jeonghan hated that you did it time and time again without hesitation, he understood it. He’d do the same for you in a heart beat.

That’s the only reason he tried so hard to get you to admit your feelings for Shua, he thought you finally deserved to get what you wanted for once.

And for the first time in your near two decades of knowing him, Jeonghan sat in silence as he stared at you dumbfounded, his phone still cased in his hand like his life depended on keeping it near him.

He sat there for what seemed like forever before he spoke again. This time softly and much more timid, “Okay then.”

He then put the car back in drive and turned his GPS back on, after he had messed with his cell for a few moments, and he started to drive to the address that Joshua had given him.

It was becoming a long car drive full of a thick silence before you finally sniffled from your place faced out towards the window.

“For what it’s worth, i really did want to tell him i was in love with him back at the hotel.” You informed the blonde haired boy, trying your best to actually get the words out without tearing apart the small parts of you that you had managed to pull back together enough to do what needed to be done.

You still had a mission to complete, even if it made you feel hallow inside just thinking about it. It was your job to help your friend obtain contentment. You just had to try your best to power through.

“I wanted to kiss him and hug him and never let him go and tell him he should marry me instead-” you let out a little laugh and wiped your runny nose with the back of your weakened hand, “-That I’ve loved him forever and that I’ll never not love him. That every breath either of us takes just seems to make me fall for him even more. That my heart literally keeps itself beating solely for him. But-” You paused at the words that were about to come out next, remembering how much the memory of trying to express your feelings to him hurt you.

“-But when the words ‘i love you’ started to come out of my mouth, i- i saw the light of excitement he had behind his eyes when he was talking about his proposal plan start to go out and i- i couldn’t do that to him.”

In that second that you told him, you thought back on all the times you had seen Joshua happy. Not a single one of them even remotely measured up to the joy on his face when he started going in depth talking about his proposal with you.

Not the day when it was announced that he was second student in the whole school, something that made his entire family beyond proud of him. Not the day when he had finally convinced you to go on the scariest ride in the entire sketchy amusement park that had you clutching onto him for dear life. Not even when you went back with him to LA and he got to hug his mom for the first time in four years.

He was truly happy with her. He loved her the way you loved him. He was excited to show his best friend his ideas in the hopes that you would help him obtain his goal of getting her to say yes. He wanted her more than he’s wanted anything you’ve ever seen him wish for. You couldn’t take that away from him.

“I-I just thought-” You spoke in a shakey, near uncertain tone, “-What kind of monster would ever take that excited eye twinkle away from someone as amazing as Joshua hong?” You croaked, your voice becoming horse from all the straining of trying not to cry, “What kind of asshole tells their best friend that they’re in love with them minutes before they’re about to propose to another woman? A selfish bitch who doesn’t care about her best friend’s happiness, that’s who!” You answered yourself before Jeonghan could try, “And i refused to do that to him. So i told him i loved him a-and that I was proud of him-” Your voice gave way at the end of your rant, losing you some much needed speed and sanity.

It was all too much. You figured you’d break eventually. You had just hoped it’d be after his actual wedding so you’d be able to help him and be the best, best man (or best woman) you could be. But that was a pipe dream.

You couldn’t go to watch him get engaged to some random woman that he didn’t even have the decency to let you meet before the proposal without saying it all aloud to someone before so you wouldn’t say it aloud then.

You let a single tear slide down your face as you bit your lip to contain yourself for a second while doing everything in your power to keep yourself from wailing like a toddler in Jeonghan’s car.

You decided to just keep looking out the window at the fast passing scenery, as it was your only real option, while remembering all the nights Shua was there to comfort you during your bad days and how you’d probably never get that again, “-Like I always do. Then I gave him a hug like it was the last hug i would ever give him because it may as well have been, wished him good luck and saw him off. He deserved that. He didn’t need me telling him i was in love with him right before one of the biggest moments of his life,” You nodded in defeat, wondering how in earth you were gonna live without the warmth of Joshua Hong’s friendship and love, “So i held him and then- then i let him go.”

(Last Edited 2/16/2023)

(Last Edited 2/16/2023)

(Updated 6/22/22)

[notstilinski]

They Both Die At The End Starters !

Taken from  the 2017 novel by Adam Silvera, They Both Die At The End! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit!

“They’ve even been drilling into my head that I should pretend I’m the main character of a story that nothing bad ever happens to, most especially death, because the hero has to be around to save the day.”

“I guess what I’ll miss the most are the wasted opportunities to live my life and the lost potential to make great friends with everyone I sat next to for four years.”

“No one should spend their last hours second guessing people.”

“I think I’ll get a twelve to three shift where I do nothing but tell people their lives are over.”

I’m a ticking time bomb, and even if you’re not blowing up when I do, you might get burned—maybe literally.”

“You’re not invincible, dumbass!”

“It’s mad pressure to do all my living in one day.”

“I read our love wrong, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“I know no one lives forever, but you should live longer than others. You matter more than other people. That’s life.”

“I’m dying and we can’t trade lives.”

“I lived through my funeral, but I wish I was already dead.”

“No. The chance you might have to watch me die.”

“Surviving showed me it’s better to be alive wishing I was dead than dying wishing I could live forever.”

“Bucket lists are pointless. You’re not gonna get everything done. You gotta go with the flow.”

“That’s a pretty dark bright-side.”

“Sorry if I pressured you to leave. You asked me to get you out of there, but I’m not sure you meant it.”

“I just don’t think I should be the judge of who actually needs my help or not, like they should do a dance or sing me a song to prove they’re worthy. Asking for help when you need it should be enough.”

“This is my spot. I come here once or twice a week. I get to say stuff like ‘I’ll have the usual.’”

“Don’t waste your breath on a question like that. Just come out and say whatever you want.”

“Nah. Leaving means living before you die. Let’s bounce.”

“It sucks how we’re all being raised to die.”

“I keep my photos in black and white because my life lost color when they died.”

“I felt unwanted, frustrated, lost, and I needed to take it out on someone. But that’s not me. It was a glitch.”

Yeah, but I wanted every possible minute with them, even if it meant being left with the memory of watching them all die in front of me.”

“Okay. I’ve signed away my right to bitch I die.”

“I feel like Indiana Jones right now.”

“Anyway, I hijacked your moment. Sorry.”

“We never act. Only react once we realize the clock is ticking.”

“Could’ve been at the cemetery sooner if a hearse carried us.”

“Weird question: Do you believe in the afterlife?”

“There’s only really room for one. Get your own grave.”

“I’ve spent so much time being pissed at my family for leaving me, Mateo. Everyone’s always running their mouth about survivors guilt but…”

“I was nine when I bothered my dad about love. I wanted to know if it was under the couch or high up in the closest where u couldn’t reach yet. He didn’t say that ‘love is within’ or ‘love is all around you.’”

“How do you know when love is love?”

“I don’t want you to see me die, but I can’t watch you die either.”

“Why can’t we have a chance?”

“You really think you can beat Death in an arm-wrestling match?”

“And you don’t need the same blood to lose a part of yourself when someone dies.”

“I wish this had some kick to it. I can’t be sober when I loose you.”

“To smiling while we can.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I know there’s no time to waste, but I had to be sure you are who I thought you were. The best thing about dying is your friendship.”

“Affection from millions and intimacy from one special person are completely different beasts.”

“I don’t know every detail about his past. But what I’ve gotten out of him in one day is more than I feel like I ever deserved. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“You’re begging for them, right? You don’t give a shit about me.”

“Are you critiquing how I saved your life?”

“The suspense of everything is killing me. I can’t take being out here.”

“But if for some reason this plan doesn’t work, we need to promise to find each other in the afterlife. There has to be an afterlife, (Name), because it’s the only thing that makes dying this young fair.”

“I would’ve loved you if we had more time.”

“Come on, (Name), it’s me. You hear me, right? It’s (Name). Wake up now. Please wake up.”

[cinnbar-bun]

Diluc Finding Out S/O Had Their Vision Taken

A/n: spoilers for Genshin Act 2, I just my fave cuz.,,, big love for him. Also angst. Reader is not the traveler!!

He is not one to harp on you or tell you where you need to go or what you should do. He trusts you fully. You are his lover, and as such, he puts his complete faith in you. You are strong, brave, and kind. Surely nothing too grave could happen?

As much as he tries to delude himself with detached statements of how you’ll be fine, he does worry. Sometimes he worries about what would happen if he couldn’t help you.

Work and business keeps you both preoccupied, and many times you both would be estranged for many days- perhaps even months- at a time.

But he tries to assure himself. You were his most trusted spy and intelligence agent, and you are his lover now. You are more than capable of handling anything.

You informed him you would be joining the Traveler on their journey to Inazuma. You had become attached to the poor thing after helping them a few times, and you felt it invaluable to learn about the situation in the closed off Land of Eternity.

He knew of the dangers. You knew of the risks. He wanted so bad to tell you to forget that place. To tell you it was pointless, unnecessary, absolutely worthless compared to the utter horror you would have to face.

But he held his tongue. He was a man of few words, instead pressing a kiss against your forehead and hanging his ring around your neck on a chain. You did the same back. A reminder you both were connected, no matter how far.

He expected rough travels and perhaps a few scars coming back. He expected new information, your smiling face and tired yawn over how exhausting the trip was.

What he didn’t expect was to see Paimon and the traveler return to Mondstadt with anxious expressions on their face.

“Traveler. Paimon. Is something the matter? Where is (Y/n)?” He asks. His heart beats quicker. God. Please. Don’t let his nightmares be true.

“Well… you see…” the traveler begins. They can’t face him.

“Hehe… it’s um, a super funny story. Haha, you’d never believe it. Almost as much as believing that (Y/n) got their vision stolen!” Paimon awkwardly added.

“Paimon-!” The traveler hissed, frowning at them and Paimon covered her mouth.

“I mean! Um! It’s not that bad!! At least they’re alive… right?” Paimon tried to fix her slip up but Diluc couldn’t hear a thing.

“They… what?” He can’t believe it.

“It’s best you see for yourself.” The traveler took Diluc to the bar where you were sitting, a drink in hand as Kaeya and Venti were trying to tell a terrible joke.

Your eyes were faded. Dead. You looked like a zombie, a hollow shell of the person he loved. You did not smile, you did not even look at the two trying to get any sort of emotion out of you. Just as Paimon said, your vision was gone.

“Do you mind…? Please leave me. I have a terrible headache.” You murmured.

Diluc walked towards you, and Kaeya and Venti knew better and stood aside.

“(Y/n)?” He asked, unsure if this was truly you. He swallowed his pride. “My love?”

It was the first time he had ever publicly said something like that. Your relationship was shrouded in mystery and kept quiet beyond a few people.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You asked.

His heart shattered. He couldn’t talk, couldn’t even form a sentence to respond to what you asked. Please be a cruel, sick joke. Please tell him this was a lie and that-

“I don’t remember ever meeting you. Actually, I don’t really remember anything. This young adventurer over there and their floating partner has taken me here, saying I was from here but… truly I can’t recall a thing. It’s all a haze.”

“I’m sorry. I must have mistaken you for someone else.” Diluc said. He stared down before he quickly walked out of the tavern, slamming the door behind him.

How was he supposed to react? How was he supposed to act with you knowing you remember nothing about him? Nothing about the two of you and all you’ve done?

He cursed the gods and everything around him. If this was their idea of a joke, he did not find it funny. Time after time, everything he loved was taken from him. Was he ever allowed to be happy and love, knowing he was cursed?

“How could he say that?! What a jerk! Who does that to someone they love?” Paimon angrily huffed.

The traveler nearly followed him out the bar before Kaeya placed a hand on their shoulder.

“Be gentle with him. He’s hurting incredibly bad. I know him very well, and he may not admit it but he’s truly heartbroken. I don’t want to hurt him more so… take care of him for all of us, okay?”

They nodded before catching up with the young lord.

“Diluc! Please! Wait-!”

“Leave me alone, traveler. I have work to complete.”

“Please-“

“This has been a complete waste of my time. I will not ask again for you to leave me alone. I do not wish-“

“I’m sorry!” They shouted, tears streaming down their face as they sobbed loudly. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

He stopped walking. He stood still for a few moments as the traveler cried and begged for forgiveness.

“You’re sorry? Sorry for what has happened to them? Truly?”

“Huh?” The traveler looked up to see Diluc clench his fists tightly.

“You think sorry will fix this? You think sorry will give back their vision, their memories, their ambitions? You think sorry can help them remember what had happened to them?”

“I-“

“You’re wasting your breath. Save it. I do not wish to hear anymore. It’s not me you should be apologizing to. You took their life. Not mine.” He glared coldly. He walked away, leaving the traveler alone as his figure slowly grew smaller.

He goes home and immediately reads the letters you sent him. Whether they were business or personal, he kept them all.

Diluc came across one letter. One that changed your relationship forever.

“I love you, Diluc. Nothing will ever stop me from coming back to you and being by your side.”

He couldn’t control himself now. His eyes watered as all his feelings burst like a dam.

God, he should be grateful you were alive. Why couldn’t he be content knowing you were back here?

The tears fell onto the letter, dampening and smudging the ink on the old paper.

Why did this hurt worse than anything ever before?

In an instant, he grabbed a match and lit it up, placing it near the letters and setting some of them aflame. Watching the letters burn sent him spiraling.

‘My lord’ ‘I love you’ ‘great news’ ‘I have been thinking of you’

The words flashed in his head before he threw them to the ground and stomped out the flame. Many were charred and burned, and he crumbled to the ground.

God. Why? Why did it have to be you? Why did it have to happen? Why did you go? Why didn’t he just say anything to keep you here?

[hansensgirl]

salvatore. | vi.

series summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violent behaviour? (no actual hitting), spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, soft!dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, + more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 2.5k

pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.

a/n. | i know i haven’t updated in a while i’m really sorry!! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog!

“Doll, please calm down. You’re scaring me,” Steve begged, sitting on the bed. “How can I calm down, Steve? Huh? You only just came back, and now you’re going away again,” you spat, crossing your arms. Your stance was almost adorable, but Steve knew that if he made a comment, he’d just push you further away. He couldn’t let that happen. “Why can’t you ask for a vacation, Stevie? We haven’t done anything romantic since my birthday, and that was six months ago.” You turned your back to Steve, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry, Doll, but I have to go save the world,”  he solemnly told you. His voice carried a faux sadness that shouldn’t even be there in the first place. “Bullshit, you have so many more people to do it. Sam, Wanda, Tony—don’t lie, Steve. Why are you going to Sydney? There’s no way you have to travel to another continent to mess up some sort of drug deal. Isn’t that what the police are for?” you questioned him.

Tears stung your eyes. They were ones of anger, but you couldn’t lie. In the midst of them, were sad ones ready to leak, too. Steve stayed silent. “For fucks sake, Steve, you can’t even give me an answer?” you asked in disbelief. You gasped as the tears began to fall. “I knew it, I knew it the whole time,” you whispered under your breath. “Knew what?” he asked, walking up to you. You backed up into the corner of the room.

“That you’re cheating on me,” you mumbled quietly. “What? Baby– no, listen.” He paused to take a deep breath, meant to calm his nerves down. “I don’t want to hear anything, Steve. I know about you and Natasha. All those trips? Those text messages? God, the only person I feel bad for is myself. How could I be so blind to it all?” you shook your head as you spoke. You walked around Steve’s strong figure and headed towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out, following you behind.

“For some fresh air, I can’t handle this,” you yelled back, but Steve only sped his steps up. “You’re not leaving me, Doll,” he growled, stepping in front of you. “I never said I was, but now you’re tempting me,” you snapped back. “You’re not leaving me, Doll. You never can.” Steve gripped your shoulders tightly, and you winced in pain. “Even if you did, I’ll go to the ends of the Earth to get you back.”

Your eyes shot open. Gasping, you struggled to catch your breath. Your heart pumped like no tomorrow. Each time your chest raised to the highest point, you felt like you had a heart attack. You fell back onto your pillow, and you couldn't care enough about the slightly painful thud that came with it. Nightmares were never pleasant. Though they give amazing writing inspiration, they still were not nice.

Unfortunately, your nights seemed to be filled with them. Every time you fell asleep for the past week, you’d wake up in a panicky mode. At that point, you were okay with settling for a weird dream that resembled surrealistic art. Who wouldn’t want to have a Dali-inspired dream? You rubbed your eyes roughly and could feel the exhaustion in your every movement.

Your phone rang loudly. The sound made you jump in shock, and you reached to your bedside table for it. The screen read Bucky’s name, and you sighed. You answered the phone and brought it to your ear. “Hey, Bucky,” you croaked tiredly. He laughed, and you could hear the exhaustion in his voice. But the sound of tiredness differed from yours. “Did I wake you up?” he asked, and you moaned. “No, I just woke up,” you told him. “Why would you wake up at one in the morning, Doll?” he asked.

“Nightmare,” you breathlessly told him. You could swear on the daisy that began to bloom two weeks ago that you started to feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. “Talk to me, Doll. Was it bad?” he questioned. “Yeah, it was worse than the previous ones.” You hadn’t even realized that you just spilled your secret. “You’ve been getting them for the past few nights? Doll– I’m so sorry, but you know you can always talk to me, right?”

His words were more reassuring than anything Steve ever said. “I know, it’s just… The nightmares—they’re very personal. You might not understand how scary they are. Plus, I don’t want to bother you,” you sheepishly admitted to him. He sighed heavily. “I understand, Doll, but you can never bother me, okay? I’m the one who’s supposed to feel that way, not you,” he chuckled, just to ease the tension.

“Now, I’m gonna be there in the next twenty minutes. Do you think you can sort yourself out by then?” he asked, and you started to stutter. “Uhm, sure, yeah, sure,” you agreed obediently. “Good girl, I’ll be there in a few.” And with that, he hung up. Your eyeballs bulged out of their sockets at those two words he uttered. Steve never said anything like that. He’d always just nod, even if you couldn't see it.  You simply wrapped yourself in one of your most favourite blankets because changing seemed pointless to you.

There was no way he was not in pyjamas… right?

You turned the lamp on next to you before you could convince yourself that your chair was a monster. Your back was cold but also covered in sweat. You hated that feeling, and your mother always had the best way to describe it. “It’s like heating something in the microwave but failing nonetheless. The outside of it is warm, but the inside is still cold.” She’d tell you as she’d wipe down your back with a towel.

That was before everything went downhill. Before you turned thirteen and before she married him.

You sighed and got out of bed, willing yourself to put the kettle on. Maybe you’ll make some hot chocolate, or perhaps some tea… In your mind, twenty minutes always seemed like a long time. It sounded as though you could get quite a lot done in a third of an hour. The reality always felt like getting ice water poured on you as a method for waking up.

Unless your life was significantly put together, those one thousand and two hundred seconds are equivalent to five minutes. The ceramic lid for the jar clinked as you set it down on the counter. You grabbed two chamomile tea bags and closed the pot with a ‘ping!’. You grabbed two cups from the cupboard and then groaned loudly when you realized that you hadn’t turned the kettle on.

With a flick of your finger, you turned it on and leaned onto the counter. You sighed pretty loudly. Your head fell into the cup that your hands made, and you closed your eyes. You didn’t have a headache, and your eyes didn’t hurt either; you were just exhausted. You sighed once again, and the kettle clicked, telling you the water was done boiling.

Timing was everything, as always. And sometimes “timing” is just a coincidence, just like how Bucky rang the doorbell as soon as the water stopped boiling. You rubbed your eyes and walked to the door slowly, not caring that he may have been standing out there for thirty seconds too long. You opened it—not all the way—but wide enough for him to catch a glimpse of your tired form. “Hi,” he greeted, letting himself in.

Bucky looked around your home as if he was waiting for someone to round the corner with a knife and shotgun. “Nice place,” he said with an awkward smile on his face. “Thanks, even though our homes are formatted the same way,” you chuckled. He nodded, and then a few seconds after, he let out a forced laugh. You looked up at him and gave him a meek grin, and then went back to making the tea.

“I’m so glad I have two bags of chamomile left. It’s like the universe has decided to bless me again,” you breathlessly said. “What was the blessing before?” he curiously asked. “You.” You poured the hot water inside the cups, and then the bags of tea followed. “Honey or sugar?” you asked, and he pointed at the sugar. You passed it to him wordlessly, and the only sounds that filled the room were from your lungs and cups of tea.

“So… Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a few more wordless moments. “S- sure, thank you once again! You’re so kind,” you sighed as you brought the cup of tea to your mouth. Bucky copied your movements, but just a bit slower. “It was about my ex,” you admitted once you set your cup down. Bucky struggled to keep his eyes from popping out of their sockets at your mention of him.

“It was so similar to an argument we had a few months before I broke up with him… The only difference was that he wasn’t as… terrifying. And yet he still scared me,” you solemnly spoke. Bucky stretched a hand across the counter and placed it on your shoulder. He pleasantly squeezed it a bit, and you were tempted to lean into his touch.

But you just can’t, because Steve is in the back of your mind, taunting you.

“What really happened in the dream?” he asked, and you took another sip of tea. “Well… We were fighting. He had to go away for a while, even though he just came back. He’d always do that; it’s what helped destroy our relationship. He valued his job over me, and also, someone else,” you sadly recounted. Bucky listened in carefully, because he wanted to help out his best girl in any way possible.

“I caught him in his lies because his excuses became so… Inexplicable. I always had that nagging feeling that he was cheating on me with his friend, his coworker. That argument confirmed everything. I couldn’t handle it all being true, so I tried to leave for a walk,” you paused to take a shaky breath. “He got angry and stopped me, and then he threatened me,” you bluntly finished.

Bucky was so glad that his hand was no longer resting on your shoulder because Goddamn was his fist clenched tightly. You brought the cup of tea up to your mouth, and Bucky just watched you as you diverted your eyes away from him. Once you set the cup down, Bucky grabbed your hands. In contrast, his were extremely hot, and yet the flesh one was dry. Yours were a bit cold, but they were soft and a bit dewy. You looked up at him, only to lock eyes.

“It’s just a dream, doll, okay? And it’s in the past, it won’t happen again, our minds can be crazy sometimes, so try not to worry about it,” he whispered lowly, bringing both of your hands up to his mouth. He pressed a kiss on both sets of your knuckles. You nodded softly, and you leaned down to press a kiss on his flesh knuckles in return. You smiled against his skin, even though it was bruised and slightly red. You wanted to ignore the weird feeling of his metal arm against your sweaty skin, but you couldn’t help it.

“Can- Can I do the thing to your metal hand?” you asked him, hopeful that he would say yes. Bucky nodded, with a slight smile on his face, of course. You closed your eyes and puckered your lips just a bit, pecking the metal. His breathing hitched, unbearably so. It was something he would always catch himself doing whenever he’d think about you or whenever he was simply just in your presence. You opened up eyes and looked back up at him, and you could see the way his eyes glazed over.

He let go of your hands abruptly, allowing them to fall onto the marble countertop. His fingers slotted themselves against your cheeks, and he grabbed your face gently. Bucky pulled you close to him, and he smashed his lips against yours. The kiss was messy, but it was full of passion. You kept your lips locked against his, and your fingers carded through his long hair. There was no other movement apart from the way Bucky kept trying to pull you closer and closer.

It was almost like he wanted to merge bodies, minds, and souls with you.

A few more seconds passed, and Bucky eventually pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours, and you exhaled a shaky breath. “Steve… His name is Steve, and I hate him,” you admitted to him, and Bucky kissed your nose. “And I hate him too, doll,” Bucky said before parting ways from you. There was a bit of tea left in his cup, but you had finished all of yours. “Get some rest, okay? Or just close your eyes for a bit. You need it,” he advised, and you nodded. “Thank you, Bucky. I really appreciate you being there for me,” you expressed to him.

“Anything for you, doll, now go tuck yourself in,” he urged once again before walking past you to the door. You placed the cups in the sink, and neither of you looked back at each other. You heard the door shut with a loud echo, and you sighed heavily. Maybe you were going to listen to him. Sleeping in isn’t that bad after all.

Bucky always believed that being vulnerable was stupid. He also believed that opening up was stupid. But, to be fair, he believed that anything involving emotions was stupid. But when it comes to you, he felt the opposite. Maybe vulnerability was good. Perhaps it was exactly where you needed to be for him to finally be able to love you.

And it was then when he realized that he hadn’t been loving you properly. He hadn’t been loving you the way he wanted to love Natasha, and that just ended up with her six feet deep with flowers growing above her body. He needed you, but you clearly needed him more than anything else. Bucky was desperate for you at times, of course, but you matter more to him than anything else.

Bucky looked down at his desk, staring at the single plane ticket that would take him all the way across the state of New York. He hadn’t been there in over a year, and that was when he first learned of Natasha’s promiscuity. Philandering around with his best friend, fucking said best friend in the most memorable locations he had taken her.

He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if he found out that the reason why Natasha showed up to the wedding venue late was that she was too busy lifting up that poofy white gown for Steve. He thought that by emptying out Pandora’s box when she passed, everything would be okay. That he’d be able to move on without a care, and he wouldn’t have to shed any more tears for her. Bucky won’t. He promised himself he wouldn't.

He just had a few loose ends to wrap up before he made you his. That was all.

[anxresi]

Look at this photo from the new trailer.

I mean, just LOOK at it.

Idk about you, but I think this is one of the misleadingly ‘awesome’ still images I’ve ever seen.

It’s a very nice freeze frame that’s true, and anyone who sees it without knowing about Miraculous might think this signifies the beginning of a new and EPIC force for justice and that the show is definitely worth catching.

Man, wouldn’t they be disappointed if they knew the truth? That’s why you should never trust a poster… just because the marketing people have done a great job in making something seem appealing, doesn’t mean the final product is anything like as tasty once you take a bite.

All those ‘heroes’, yet how many have been properly utilized? How many have distinct personalities, outside of being ‘nice’? How many have had more than a couple of outings at best?

Not many that’s for sure.

I wouldn’t call this an Avengers-style squad, either. The members of the Avengers had their own movies, arcs, backstories etc. Each was an integral member. They were also all unique in their own special way… no interchangeable personality there!

This nondescript bunch? Most hardly got one episode to themselves but they were thrust into their new role. They certainly don’t fight together a whole lot. And they didn’t even get to keep their Miraculous; having to hand it back to Ladybug as soon as their five minutes of fame were up is a common occurrence.

This ain’t a proper superhero line-up. It’s a marketing gimmick in the most cynical sense of the word . They’ll desperately try selling the merchandise, take your hard-earned cash and happily promote these barely-seen characters everywhere.

But besides the die-hards at the cons, who’s gonna say they want to be Pigella? That King Monkey is their idol? That Poly Mouse is ssoooo cool?

No one, that’s who. Because the vast majority of these individuals had no soul or love in their creation, or any thoughts of whether they fit into the overall story or not. Pure profit is what drove the necessity of their existence.

I guess if you are going to squarely aim your product at ‘kids’, dumbing it down to the lowest possible level with a bunch of costumed nobodies with all the depth of a puddle is a good way of going about it.

I miss the days when there was just five main superheroes, and each one slowly and gradually getting used to their new role in arguably the best season (S2) was both satisfying and interesting to watch. Quality over quantity, and all that.

But now we have this nonsense of Chat and Ladybug ‘travelling the world to find new heroes in every country’ in a bunch of pointless movies, and you have to ask yourself: along with all the other neglected nonentities who’ve joined the squad of late, is this REALLY going to improve the show in any way?

No, IMHO it definitely doesn’t. All it’ll do is introduce more one-off characters who’ll disappear from our screens forever after the movie is over, and later we’ll be scratching our heads thinking “well what was the point in that waste of time then?!”

I’ll tell you what, in case you hadn’t figured it out by now. It starts with m, end in y and rhymes with ‘funny’.

Which none of this pitiful excuse for lazy writing is, of course. Apart from this amusing image I have of the people at Zag frantically milking their one successful franchise for everything it’s worth until nothing salvageable is left. I just feel sorry for the overworked cattle involved; they must have very sore udders by now.

“We need more bottles!!” 🐮 🥛 🥛 🥛 🥛 😱

[fangirlovestuff]

Never Too Late - Chris Evans x reader

a/n- hey lovely people!! i hope you’re all doing well:) i’ve been working on this one for a while, and i’m super excited to finally share it! because it’s Chris’ birthday, i wanted to have some fun with this, so in the story, chris says 3 things that are quotes / paraphrases of some of his characters’ quotes (like 3 things his characters said in movies lol). see if you can find all 3 of them;) enjoy<3

Summary: Romance is an illusion. Unattainable. Absolutely unrealistic. No one can have a fairytale love story. But maybe, you don't need a fairytale. You just need each other. (In which you and Chris have each given up on romance, but then you meet, and… sparks fly.)

Word Count: 9.6k (hello longest oneshot i’ve ever written!!)

Warnings: some curse words, (responsible) alcohol consumption, slight angst?? honestly it’s just obliviousness, slow burn!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

This was a waste of time.

I'm sorry, the text read, something came up. Raincheck? ;)

Douche. He was the one that asked if you could do this today instead of tomorrow, so you moved your meeting. But apparently, that didn't matter, since he wasn't planning to show up anyway.

You blocked his number, leaving your place at the bar and heading towards the exit. You were in the middle of typing out a furious message to your friend who set you up on this blind date, when you collided with someone in your path quite harshly. You rubbed your arm where you bumped into the person and gazed upwards to meet his eyes.  

"Sorry," you both said in unison.

The man let out a chuckle. "Sorry," he repeated, his amused eyes gazing into yours.

"No, I'm the one who should apologize," you said, "I wasn't looking where I was going," you lifted up your phone, gesturing to the reason.

"I'm sure it was important," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "don't worry about it."

"It really wasn't. Again, sorry," you grimaced.

"It's fine," he reassured you, "I was actually on my way to get another drink so it's not like I spilled anything, no harm done," he smiled.

"Well, I'm really glad. Have a good rest of your night," you smiled back. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned to continue your walk towards the exit, opening your texts to write that message to your friend, but as you were turning around the man reached out and grabbed onto your wrist, not harshly but enough to make you turn around to face him once more.

He immediately let go of your hand, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, it's just… you seemed kind of upset when I bumped into you, are you alright?"

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile, "I'm fine," you looked up at him, "just got ditched by this blind date. Guy didn't show, so I was writing a furious message to my friend who set me up," you chuckled, "that's why I wasn't paying attention."

"Sorry," he said with a sympathetic grimace. "So why were you writing to your friend and not to the guy? I mean, he's the one who bailed."

"No offense, but I learned not to expect as much from the male species," you smirked, and he chuckled in return. "Got bailed on one too many times to have high expectations. Honestly, I was only willing to go on this date cause my friend said this was a great guy and, according to her, I was 'on the sure road to becoming a spinster'. So, I appeased her," you shrugged. Your confession left your lips with such ease, you were almost taken aback by how easy it was to talk to this complete stranger this openly. Maybe, it was easier because you were strangers.

"Ah, I know what that's like. I mean, not the spinster part, the part about appeasing your friends," he chuckled. "They're over there," he gestured to a table a little to the back, "to 'cheer me up'. Said I needed to leave my house more. Although I don't know if they're still sober enough to remember that's why they're here," he smiled affectionately as he looked at his table. Sure enough, the guys looked pretty drunk, but the man didn't seem to resent them for it, he was just amused.

"What did you need cheering up for?" you asked once his gaze went back to meet yours.

"Well, I got dumped. We were together for a few years. I even had a ring," he raised his eyebrows, "but she said it wasn't working out anymore. At least she didn't know about the ring yet," he smiled bitterly.

"Small victories," you nodded sympathetically.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "anyway, she just finished taking the last of her stuff from ou- my place. She was really lingering with it, we broke up like a month ago. Didn't have the heart to rush her."

"I'm sorry," you put a comforting hand on his shoulder, albeit a bit awkwardly. He seemed to appreciate it anyway. "Your sob story's way worse than mine," you joked, getting a small huff of laughter out of him.

"I guess," he said. "But that means I get where you're coming from on the whole no dating thing. It just seems pointless," he shrugged.

"I'm sure this is the part where anyone else would've told you that it'll be okay and you'll find 'your person', but since I'm shittier than that I'll be honest – romance is dead and we'll both probably die alone," you said flatly.

Your blunt tone made him smile, which in turn made you smile, and you nodded as your words sank into the silence between you. You started giggling, and soon he followed, and you were both laughing softly for a while.

"I'm sorry," he said, still grinning, "I don't know why I'm laughing. It's sad."

"Very sad," you agreed, a grin on your face as well. "to be fair, spinsterhood doesn't sound that bad. Except for the cats thing. I'll never be a crazy cat lady," you shook your head, "they hate me, every single one. I'd get dogs though," you mused, "have a little army of 'em."

"Sounds fun," he smiled.

"Right?" you smiled back, "I'm telling you, it's not as bad as people make it out to be."

Wrapped up in your conversation, you were both still standing next to the bar, and another man pushed past you to get to the bartender. The bubble around the two of you exploded, and you remembered that you were still in public, at the bar.

"You should go get that drink you were here for," you said, gesturing towards the bar.

"Alright," he chuckled. Just then, the man finished ordering, so he told the bartender what he'd like to have, then turned to you.

"Hey, romance might be dead, but chivalry isn't. Let me buy you a drink," he grinned.

"Be still my beating heart," you feigned emotion, before a smile crept back onto your face. "I'll have whatever you're having," you shrugged, and waited as he told the bartender to bring you two another drink.  

"So, if you're buying me a drink, I feel like it's only fair I should know your name," you smiled.

"That does seem fair," he sent a small smile your way. "I'm Chris," he put out his hand and you shook it, telling him your name in return.

"So, you come here often?" he smirked, prompting the both of you into another fit of laughter.

"For real though," you said once you got your drinks, "I'm really not looking for anything romantic right now. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," he reassured, "I'm not either."

"Okay good cause this is like, really tasty, so I wouldn't mind having a couple more," you held up the drink he got you with a grin, making him laugh.

You did have a couple more, with Chris. You ended up sitting at the bar, his friends not really noticing he was gone, and talking about anything and everything. You were almost reluctant to end the night, but you really should get home, which is what you told Chris before getting up and getting your wallet.

"Hey, no," he said and gestured for you to put it away, "I was serious, I'll pay."

"Really? I mean, this wasn't a date so I just thought-"

He shook his head adamantly and you put your hands up in surrender and smiled. "Okay. Thank you," you told him as you put your wallet away.

"You're very welcome. Although, there is something I still want to ask you. Can I get your number?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could he spoke up again.

"Nothing romantic, I swear," he chuckled, "but it was really fun hanging out tonight. We should do it again. Completely platonically." He smiled sincerely.

You narrowed your eyes in mock suspicion before laughing. "Alright. Sure, you can have my number," you said, and he grinned before giving you his phone. You put in your number and gave it back.

"See you around, Chris," you smiled before leaving the bar, the smile lingering on your face all the way back to your house.

And when your friends asked you how the date was, you told them he bailed and you went home, never mentioning meeting Chris. You knew how they'd see it, and it wasn't like that, so you just… kept it to yourself. For now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

On your way to Chris' house, you picked up the takeout from the place he told you about, before texting him you got it and you were almost there.

It's been a couple of weeks since you met him, and so far he was proving to be a great friend. You texted back and forth most days, but never found the time to meet up again, until today, that is.

You had texted him about your crappy day at work, and how happy you were this week was finally, finally over, so he invited you t his house, and suggested you watch a movie. And well, you accepted. A movie night with a friend was just what you needed to put this shitty week behind you.

"Hi," you greeted him once he opened the door.

"Hi!" he took the takeout bags from your hands and gestured for you to follow him inside, and into the kitchen. "So," he started, while taking out the food, "I realized forgot to tell you; I have a dog," he smiled apologetically, "I don't know if that's a problem, he's in my room upstairs, I won't-"

"Are you kidding?" you nearly squealed, "of course that's not a problem! I told you if I could I'd be a crazy dog lady," you giggled. "Can I meet him?"

"Great!" he chuckled at your enthusiasm, "sure, I'll go get him."

As he went upstairs, you stood there, looking around his kitchen. You weren't sure what to do, it seemed like he got all the food, and it wasn't your house, so… you just stood there.

Fortunately, you soon heard the patter of footsteps, and just as you were about to call out to Chris to ask him if there was anything you could do to help, you heard him yell out.

"Dodger!"

And just then, a big whirl of movement came towards you, and before you knew it a large dog was resting his paws on you, nearly knocking you back. You regained your footing before you crouched down to your knees with a beam.

"Hey," you cooed at the excited dog, who was wagging his tail and still trying to climb onto you, apparently. "Hey," you repeated yourself, rubbing behind his ears affectionately. "It's so nice to meet you," you kept cooing and stroking his fur. He propped himself up and licked your cheek, making you giggle. "Thank you, you're so cute," you scratched his neck affectionately.

"Sorry about him, he gets excited around new people," Chris came into the kitchen apologizing.

"No worries," you grinned as the large dog laid down on his back, exposing his stomach to you in a silent request for belly rubs which you willingly provided. "He's adorable," you looked up at Chris, who was grinning back at you.

"He really is," he agreed, going to finish putting the food in plates before lifting them.

"Can I help with anything?" you asked, still crouched down and petting Dodger.

"Nope, all set," he smiled, "let's go."

He led the way to his living room, where he set the plates down on the coffee table and picked up the remote. "So, what do you wanna watch?"

"Oh, I don't know," you shrugged as you sat down on the couch, "you can pick."

"Well, I would, but we're here because you've had a shitty week, so you should pick whatever you want."

"Ugh, don't remind me. See, Dodger would never do this to me," you turned your gaze to the dog, who has settled at your feet, and started petting him again. "Right? Of course you won't, you're the cutest dog," you cooed.

Chris burst out into a short laugh. "Are you going to steal my dog?"

"It's a very real possibility," you said dryly, shrugging. You turned your gaze to him, your hand still petting Dodger, and smirked.

"Okay, so are you gonna pick a movie now that we've settled that?" he asked, smiling.

"I don't know what to pick," you admitted, "I don't wanna put on anything you don't like, I guess," you mumbled.

"Awwwww, it's fine," he assured with an easy smile, "pick whatever."

You caved and put on a movie you really liked – The Princess Bride. As he realized what movie you were putting on, Chris chuckled.

"Really? That's what you're going with?"

"See? I told you I'd put on something you wouldn't like. Forget it, we can just-"

"No, no!" he cut you off, "I really like this movie," he grinned, "I just wouldn't expect that from someone who claims romance is dead, that's all," he chuckled.

"Well, movies have… dragons in them. Do you think dragons are real just cause they're in movies?" you reasoned.

"Okay, I see your point," he raised his hands in mock surrender.

A comfortable silence stretched over the both of you from that point, the only thing filling it was the sound of the movie playing and the occasional shuffling sound when either of you, or Dodger, shifted on the couch.

A bit later, Chris spoke up. "Hey, want a beer?"

"Uh, I probably shouldn't have any. Driving myself home and all," you shrugged.

"Yeah, that's smart," he chuckled. You were both lowering your voices, as if not to disrupt the movie which was still playing. "Mind if I have one?"

"Not at all," you answered truthfully, "It's your house."

He let out another short chuckle, nodding before getting up. When he heard Chris getting up, Dodger lifted his head from where he was laying, and swiftly followed him into the kitchen.

When they returned, Chris brought you a glass of water, and gave it to you before sitting down. Dodger jumped back up onto the sofa, curling up beside Chris, laying his head on his stretched-out legs.

"Awwww," you softly smiled, "that's adorable. He really loves you."

"Not nearly as much as I love him," Chris replied, smiling and fondly rubbing Dodger's head.

"See, that's good love. Love that lasts," you remarked. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned your head back to the movie.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Huh?" you turned your head back to Chris.

"What did you mean by that?" he repeated.

"Oh, nothing," you shook your head. "Just, you know. I know I seem very opposed to romance, but I'm not against love. I love my family," you shrugged, "because they made me the person I am today. They're a part of me. I just don't think that a love between two people who aren't family can last in the same way."

"Yeah. You're probably right. What about dogs though? They're certainly not blood related to us," he joked.

"Certainly," you laughed, "But dogs aren’t as fucked up as humans, so it's not really comparable. Dogs don’t stay up thinking about something embarrassing they did five years ago. Dogs probably don't even get embarrassed, really. They don't have as many doubts and… restrictions. Barriers. They don't have to make everything complicated."

"But humans do."

"Bingo," you chuckled dryly.

"We really do, don't we?" he sighed. "No one really knows what they're doing or who they are. How can you know someone else enough to truly love them when you don't even know yourself?"

"Exactly. You get it," you toasted your glass of water against his beer bottle. "it's too much effort for something that lasts so little."

"Not necessarily little," he suggested, "but never enough. You know, in movies, love is this big force of nature that draws two people towards each other so strongly… it's undeniable, unavoidable. Meant to be," he chuckled. "That feels so far away from anything I've ever experienced."

"Me too, if that's any comfort," you grimaced sympathetically. "Maybe we're just meant to be alone."

"Maybe. Anyway, that's grim," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," you smiled. "Every time I talk about it with my friends, I get told I just haven't found the right person yet, and to keep on hoping and everything will magically be sunshine and rainbows," you fluttered your eyelashes cynically. "It's fun to know there's at least one more realistic person out there," you sent him a small smile, which he returned.

You both turned back to watch the movie, which was heading towards the end at this point. The handsome prince saves the brave princess. He's not really a prince, but, you know. Same difference; it's a fairytale, a legend.

Something no one can ever truly have.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Chris and you had developed a habit of calling each other on Mondays, since they were the worst, and you both needed to vent. You were in the middle of one of those calls when something he said made you abruptly stop making your dinner.

"How come I didn't know it was your birthday?" you asked, surprised, at his admission that his birthday was yesterday.  

"It never came up," he said. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The party's on Friday anyways, if you wanna come. You can bring some friends too, if you want. There's plenty of space."

"Yeah, okay," you smiled to yourself, "sure. Happy belated birthday, Chris."

"Thank you," he chuckled. "So you'll come?"

"Yeah, I'll be there, I guess," you sighed dramatically, prompting him to laugh.

"Great! See ya Friday," he said.

"See you."

After you hung up the call, you returned to your dinner, but not before texting your friends to invite them along. If you were getting on so nicely with Chris, you assumed the rest of his friends were nice people, so would in turn get along with your friends. Who were also nice people, obviously.

Or maybe, not so obviously.

There was an immediate flood of messages asking about who Chris is and how you met and if he's cute.

You ignored them in favor of finishing making your dinner, and only then sat down with your food and answered their questions, except for that last one.

He's a friend of mine I met not long ago, nice guy, you replied to the group chat.

And?? one of your friends texted.

And he invited me to this party he's throwing for his birthday, and told me I could bring friends, so now I'm inviting you guys. Hopefully, I won't regret that.

But is he cute???

I don't know, and I don't care. You know I'm not looking for anything right now!!

You're no fun. Fine, we'll come and see for ourselves ;P

You scoffed to yourself and continued to eat your dinner, unbothered. Maybe they should come, you mused, just to see that it's possible to make friends without dating them, like a sane adult.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed as Chris ushered you and your friends into his house. "I brought you a wine," you extended the bottle and he took it.

"Thank you!" he said loudly, to overpower the music that was playing. "Is it good?"

"How should I know? I didn't drink from it, it's your gift!" you joked. He laughed before giving you a one-armed hug and waving at your friends. "I'm gonna put this away," he pointed towards the kitchen, "But you should go to the living room, everyone's there."

You gave him a thumbs up and led your friends towards the living room.

"He even laughs at your bad jokes," your friend cooed in your ear, and you sighed and rolled your eyes.

"We're not a couple!" you reminded her.

"Maybe not yet, but I'm just saying you'd make a good one," she shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.

You ignored her, and continued walking. On your way to the living room, you did see a whole bunch of other people, but still, the party wasn't huge, especially compared to Chris' large house. There were no more than probably about 80 people there, not including yourself and your friends.

Pouring yourself a drink, you sat down next to your friends, who were already making small talk with another group, and joined the conversation.

Some time went by before the conversation turned to romance, and everyone started sharing funny stories about their significant others.

"What about you?" asked a woman from the other group. She seemed friendly, an easygoing smile on her face. "Everyone has a story to tell."

Before you could answer, one of your friends chimed in. "Oh, she doesn't do romance," she teased.

"Sounds mysterious," the woman laughed.

"Yep," you smiled, amused, "that's me. Dark, brooding, and mysterious."

As you were all laughing, Chris came down to sit next to you. "Having a good time?" he asked the group with a smile, a model host.

"Yeah," one of your friends answered, "we were just talking about how this one never dates anymore," she pointed at you, and you caught Chris' look, amused. "What do you think about that?" your friends asked, oblivious to the silent exchange.

"I think she should do whatever she wants to," he answered with a smile.

"Oh, don’t be diplomatic," she said, "don't you think she should find someone?" she pressed.

"I think she should do whatever she feels like," he persisted.

"Whatever," your friend rolled her eyes with a smile. "Every pot has a lid. Sooner or later, you'll find yours," she said, your words pointed at you now.

You were quiet for a brief moment before speaking up. "Oh, you're done talking about me like I'm not here. Sorry, you were saying?"

The entire group burst into laughter, and you caught Chris' gaze again.

Sorry, you mouthed, shrugging.

It's fine, he mouthed back with a small smile.

The urge to kill your friend subsided when you saw Chris didn't take her pestering too seriously.

For the rest of the night, you proceeded to have a good time, making conversation with a few other people and only running into Chris one more time.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, toasting his cup to yours.

"Yeah. You throw a great party," you smiled.

"I'm glad you think that," he returned your smile.

After that you returned to your friends, and a little while later you all decided to head home. You searched for Chris, thanked him for hosting the party and wished him a happy birthday, and went home.

"You're telling me there's nothing there?" your friend asked you on the ride home.

"There's nothing there," you sighed. "I don't know why you all want there to be."

"We just know what it's like being in love. And we want that for you. It's fun," she smiled.

"Parkour also sounds fun, that doesn't mean I can or am going to do it," you retorted. "You know what I think about being in love. Different people have different paths and abilities. I can be happy without a sweeping romance."

"I know, you're a strong independent woman and you don’t need no man," she rolled her eyes. "Just… don't close yourself off to the opportunity. That's all I'm saying."

"Okay," you shrugged.

Shortly after, she dropped you off, and you went to sleep, thinking nothing of the whole ordeal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She came by today.

When you got the text from Chris on Wednesday, you were puzzled for a few moments before you realized. His former fiancée. I mean, almost fiancée.

Shit

Is everything okay?

It only took him a couple of seconds to reply.

Yeah, I guess.

On an obviously unrelated note, wanna come drink?

You chuckled before texting him your ETA, quickly changing from the already rumpled clothes you had worn all day, and driving to his place.

You texted him when you were outside, and when you walked up to his door it was already opened, and he was waiting for you, a bottle of beer in hand.

"Aw, you drove yourself here?" he asked, before ushering you in, "I told you we should drink."

"Yeah," you chuckled, "but it's not like there's anyone I can ask to drive me on a random Wednesday. It's fine, you drink."

"But I don't wanna drink alone," he whined. "Can't you just spend the night then? I have a guest bedroom."

You opened your mouth to refuse, but then assessed it again. You were in pretty comfortable clothes, you were starting work a little later than usual tomorrow, and well… he needed a friend, and he asked you.

"Okay, fine," you chuckled, "gimmie one of those," you gestured at his beer.

He made a little celebratory motion with his hand before going and getting you another beer.

"So," you started as you took a swig of your beer, "how was your day?"

He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Great. Yeah, just… just great," he took a large gulp of his beer. You waited, giving him the space he needed to speak again. "She wanted to get back together, actually," he scoffed. You frowned, but still refrained from speaking.

"You know, I… I still have the ring," his voice broke and he cleared his throat. "I still have the ring because I wanted her to come back. But when she finally did I… I couldn't say yes to her. Because it's forever or nothing. And I don't think I'm meant to have a forever. Certainly not with someone who broke up with me anyways," he took another sip of his beer.

"If it's any comfort, I don't think there's such a thing as forever," you shrugged, and he looked at you quizzically. "I told you," you said, "all romance is momentary."

"Maybe that's true," he sighed again. "At any rate, I am now stuck with this ring, which is just… fantastic. Really awesome."

"Can't you bring it back to the shop?"

"Tried to. They won't take it back, say it's been too long for their return policy. That money's lost," he took another sip of beer.

"Well, you know, if it's lost anyways…" you smiled, "I think I have an idea of what to do with it. but first," you raised your beer in a toast, "we do need to be a little drunker for this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few too many drinks later, you and Chris were stumbling in a park near his home.

"How do you know where we are?" he asked, before nearly tripping on his face, making you giggle as he managed to catch himself on a nearby tree.

"I've been here before," you explained, a little less drunk than he was but still positively buzzed. "It's really pretty."

"It is," he agreed, taking in the trees around you as you kept going. "It's also very isolated. Are you going to kill me?" he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"No," your loud laugh rang through the park, breaking the silence of the night. "I'm not gonna kill you. Promise. Now c'mon, we're nearly there!" you beckoned him to follow you as you ran forward.

The rest of the way went by quickly, the both of you striding hurriedly, or as hurriedly as your inebriated minds would allow, engulfed in the comforting silence of the night. Finally, you got to a clearing with a large lake.

The crescent moon reflected in the water, and the lake was shimmering slightly as the wind disturbed it. The only sounds were those of your slightly labored breath, the soft trickling of the water, and the occasional flap of a bird's wings. The silence surrounded you, but it wasn't suffocating, it was as clear as the water in front of you.

It was finally broken when Chris spoke up again.

"You got me drunk so you could drown me in a lake?"

You burst into another fit of laughter. "First of all," you said in between giggles, "if anyone got anyone drunk it's you convincing me to drun- drink."

It was his turn to laugh at your mix-up. "Shut up," you said, slapping his arm lightly. "Now c'mon. You have the ring, right?"

"Yep," he said, fishing it out of his pocket. "But why did you want me to bring it?"

"Well, the fact I'm not gonna drown you in the lake doesn't mean we're not drowning anything."

"My ex-fiancée?" his mouth dropped open into an o shape.

"No!" you facepalmed. "The ring. You're gonna throw the ring in the river!"

"I am?"

"God, I'm starting to think I got you too drunk," you rolled your eyes. "Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna think about your relationship. You're gonna reminisce about everything, good and bad, and you're gonna put it in this ring. In your head, of course," you added before he could chime in.

"So I can let go," he nodded in understanding.

"Exactly," you smiled. "We don't need romance. Fuck romance. Fuck forever. You're better than that!"

"Amen!" he said, toasting an invisible glass in the air, making you laugh once more. It was probably the alcohol, but you hadn't laughed like this in a while. It was fun to laugh loudly, freeing. You wondered why you didn't do it more often.

"Alright!" you clapped your hands once, shaking from your thoughts. "Let's get this show on the road!"

You both stepped closer to the lake, and then Chris held out his hand in front of him, his palm open with the ring on it. He stared at it intently for a few moments, then his gaze snapped up to meet yours and he nodded shortly. You didn't speak, you just reached out and closed his fingers around the ring, before stepping aside and gesturing for him to go ahead. He stared at his fist for another moment before taking a swing and throwing the ring as far as he could. You held your breath until you heard the sound of the ring hitting the water, which made you release a breath full of awe.

"You did it," you said softly.

"I did it," he slowly repeated. "I did it!" he yelled out and you laughed in surprise. "I did it!" he yelled again, and in a few short strides he was next to you, picking you up and spinning you around in celebration.

"Put me down!" you shouted at him between fits of laughter, "Lunatic!"

He put you down, grinning widely. "I can't believe I just threw that ring into the lake. That was so stupid."

"It kinda was," you laughed, breathless.

"It was your idea!"

"I know! It's still stupid," you kept laughing, nearly doubling over. "Felt good though, didn’t it?"

"It really did," he let out a bewildered laugh. "Fuck. It really did," he said, and started laughing, which made you start laughing again, and before you knew it you were both laying on the grass, laughing until your cheeks hurt.

"My cheeks hurt," you pouted.

"Awww, I'm sorry," he drawled, reaching out to pinch your cheek, making you swat his hand away, glaring at him. He just giggled again, laying on his back and looking up to the sky.

You laid back as well, staring up.

"I wish I knew something about the stars," he said out of the blue.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Oh, just anything. I don't know jack shit about 'em."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's Orion's Belt," you said, pointing up to a group of three stars. "So now you know that about the stars."

He said your name, making you turn your head to look at him. "You're a good friend," he smiled.

"You're a good friend too," you smiled back at him.

"No, I'm not. All I ever do is moan about my stupid ex."

"I'm sure she wasn't stupid," you reasoned.

"She was! She was stupid with two o's," he mumbled in disdain. You giggled at his words. "I'm not hung up on her," he continued. "I'm just… disillusioned. I thought she was the one. And now that she's gone… I don't know if there's gonna be a one. Which is sad. So I've been sad," he said matter-of-factly.

"I was sad too when I started thinking that," you whispered, sobering up a little. "But we don’t need 'a one', Chris. Romance is dead, but life goes on. We're on our own, but that doesn't mean we can't make the best of it."

"I spent so much of my life looking forward to spending the rest of my life with someone. And now that I realize that might not be the case… I guess I just realized that this is it. The rest of my life. I needed to throw that ring to make peace with that."

"Glad I could help," you gave him a half-smile, taking his hand in yours and giving it a small squeeze.

"Yeah," he returned a squeeze of his own, "me too."

"C'mon," you said, leaving his hand and getting up, before helping him to his feet as well. "We should get going."

You stumbled your way home, leaning on each other for some parts of the way. Sleepy and still a little buzzed, you finally got to his house, and he led you to the guest bedroom.

"Goodnight," he said, smiling.

"Goodnight," you whispered back, before he turned and walked up the stairs. You listened to him climb, and heard the sound of another set of footsteps, soft cooing coming from upstairs, and then heard the sound of a door closing.

Dodger, you thought with a smile, before closing your own door and plopping down on the bed.

In the last minutes of your wakefulness, you thought about how lucky dogs were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, are you dating him?"

"No!" you said indignantly, "have you listened to a single word I said?"

"Oh, so you're just not putting a label on it? you're a little too old for those games if you ask me, but suit yourself," your friend shrugged.

"Come on! He's just a friend," you huffed.

"If that's what you wanna tell yourself," she smirked, but then her look became more sincere. "Look, I know you. I know that every time we talk about him, you're happy. Why can't you admit that you like him?"

"I do like him, as a person! I like all of my friends!"

"You're impossible," she rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile.

"You're impossible," you retorted weakly before smiling at her.

"You know we all just want you to be happy, right? That's all we want."

"I know," you said softly, "and I appreciate it. I really do. But I am happy, on my own."

"If that's the case, then I'm happy for you," she sighed. "I don't want you to feel like a third wheel, especially with Sarah's wedding coming up. You're the last of us who hasn't tied the knot yet."

"I'll be fine at Sarah's wedding," you rolled your eyes.

"I know, I know," she raised her hands in surrender, "But I'm just saying, I know you're anti-romance, but I also know you're not anti-company. Maybe you should bring Chris. As your friend, if you insist" she added when she saw you open your mouth to object. "Just, you know, everyone's coming with someone, and I don't want you to sit alone."

"I appreciate you looking out for me, I do, but seriously, I think you're underestimating my social skills. You do realize I can talk to people I don't know, right?"

"I know," she huffed. "Just… consider it, okay? For me?"

"I'll think about it, I guess," you shrugged.

You had no intention of following through on that. Except, well, it did come up when you were talking to Chris.

"What are you doing Friday?" he asked, his voice mechanical through the phone. "I thought we could finally see that movie you're always talking about."

"Nope, can't do Friday," you said, the phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear as you were folding your laundry.

"Aw, that's a shame. I was really looking forward to you finally shutting up about it," he teased, making you chuckle. "What're you doing Friday then?"

"First of all, if you'd listen to me and see it, you wouldn't wanna shut up about it either, because it's awesome. Second, I'm going to a friend's wedding. I'm gonna sit aside, drink some wine, and make fun of all the drunk couples."

"Sounds like a real fun night," he teased.

"Yeah," you said sarcastically. "I am really happy for her though. I know she wanted it for a long time," you said, sincere now.

"Hey, um, if you want, maybe I could come laugh at drunk couples with you? So you'll have some company," he offered.

"Oh, you don't have to," you dismissed it, "I know it sounds like a bummer, but really, I'll be fine."

"No, really. No one should have to sit alone at weddings," he said.

"Another friend of mine told me that as well."

"Well then, this friend of yours is smart. Believe me, as a veteran of many sit-alone weddings myself, I can confirm it's indeed a huge bummer."

"Fine," you chuckled, "I guess if you want to come so badly you may," you said, making him laugh.

"Great, text me the details?"

"Yep," you smiled. "Talk to you later?"

"Sure, bye!"

You hung up the phone to get up and start putting all your clothes into the closet. After you were done with that, you sent Sarah a text to let her know you will be bringing a plus one at the end, asking her if that'd be okay.

Is it Chris????

Yeah

Then it's fine!! :)))

You chuckled to yourself and kept putting away your clothes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~      

The night of the wedding, as a close friend of the bride's, you arrived at the venue a couple of hours beforehand, along with all of your friends. Chris came some time after guests started to arrive, and it didn't take you long to spot him in the crowds, looking a bit lost. You excused yourself quickly from the conversation you were in with some of the groom's friends and went to greet him.

"Hey!" you waved as you walked towards him, "Chris!"

Grinning when he saw you, he also began moving towards you, until you finally met in the middle.

"I'm glad you could make it," you smiled.

"I am too," he said, "seems like a nice wedding."

"Yeah. C'mon, you're just in time. They're gonna start the ceremony soon," you explained as you grabbed his arm and started leading him towards your seats.

"Oh-kay," he chuckled as you dragged him forward with surprising determination.

As you took your seats, you waved at your friends, and they freaked out over Chris being there, but you paid no mind to them, as Chris was leaning towards you, whispering, "You know, for someone who doesn't seem to enjoy romance, you sure do seem excited about this wedding."

"Well, I'm happy for Sarah. I've learned that me and my friends have a different outlook on that, and that's fine, it's useless to argue about it or whatever. I'm just happy she's gonna have what she wanted, even if I don't really believe in it."

"So how does that work? If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?"

"Chris, if one of my friends told me they found a way to adopt a unicorn, I'd be happy for them, no questions asked. Everyone should do what they feel like," you shrugged. "Now shhhh, they should be starting every minute now."

The ceremony was a beautiful one, and Sarah looked gorgeous in her white dress. As she walked down the aisle with a beaming smile, Chris' words echoed in your mind.

If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?

Despite your quick answer, you didn’t really know. The short answer was the one you told Chris, but the long one…

For the longest time, you believed romance just wasn't durable. Wasn't real. But maybe you just didn't believe that you can have that kind of romance? You just never really had someone to challenge your perception like that, because no one ever took it seriously, they just told you you'd find your person.

But that wasn't something you wanted to think about now, so you filled it away for later.

"It was a beautiful ceremony."

You and Chris were a little far out from the dancing crowd, somewhere a little quieter, but you could still see the dance floor from the bench you had found.

"Yeah, it was," you agreed with him.

"Not beautiful enough to make you cry, I guess?" he teased.

"Ha ha. I don't cry at weddings."

"I could've guessed that," he chuckled. "So what do you usually do at weddings? I mean, all your friends are married, so I'm assuming you've been to quite a few."

"What I'm doing right now. Sitting aside and drinking," you raised your glass in mock salute before taking a generous sip.

"Solid plan," he nodded slightly. "So you've never like, danced at weddings or anything?"

"No," you frowned, shaking your head slightly, "Why would I? I'm not a dancer, really.

"Well, how 'bout we go and change that?"

"Excuse me now?"

"I'm just saying, if you're really happy for your friend, maybe you should show her that. Enjoy yourself."

"I am enjoying myself," you deadpanned.

"Do what people are meant to do at weddings," he rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were here to silently judge everyone with me. Don't make me regret inviting you," you jokingly waved your finger at him as if you were telling him off.

"That's still the plan. We could just probably still do that on the dance floor," he shrugged. "Your call."

There was a short-lived silence before you sighed. "Fine. One dance," you warned.

Getting up, he offered his arm to you, which you took, and you made your way o the dance floor. You started dancing to the end of the upbeat song that was playing, but just then it changed into something a little slower, and people were pairing up.

"This is the money time," Chris winked, and offered you his hand. You took it, almost instinctively, and you started dancing to the song, his other hand on your waist while yours was on his shoulder.

"What do you mean money time?" you whispered.

"Okay. We're gonna turn around, and you're gonna look at the couple that's gonna be behind me," he said, turning the both of you around casually as you danced.

"Oh my god," you suppressed your laughter. "That's… I don't even know what to say. Are they even a couple or is he her da- oh nope, he just kissed her on the lips. God," you grimaced as Chris laughed at your expression. "I at least hope he's rich for her sake."

You both chuckled, and it was only a couple of moments later that you gasped with a smile. "Don't be obvious cause they're pretty close, but look at the couple to my right."

"Oh shit," he chuckled. "Remind me not to go to any secluded corner of this wedding. These two are probably this close to running off to do things I definitely wouldn't wanna see."

"Right?" you said, amused, "They're practically eye fucking. Have some decency!"

You both laughed again, and then Chris nodded his head subtly in another direction. "Look at those two."

They were a couple that wasn't dancing, they were sitting at a table close to the dancefloor, their foreheads touching, seemingly murmuring to each other.

"Betcha they're the kind of couple who does the whole 'no you hang up!' thing," Chris continued with an amused grin.

"Oh they so are!" you burst into laughter. "They probably share a single spaghetti from both ends."

"Lady and the Tramp style," you both said at the same time, prompting you to tear your eyes from the couple and look at each other, giggling.

You continued dancing through the next song, and the next one, and the one after that. For pretty much the rest of the night, you two danced together, continuing to invent silly stories about the people you saw, laughing at each other's cheesy anecdotes.

When it was getting late and the party was winding down, Chris offered you a ride home, since he hasn't drunk, and you gratefully accepted. You came here with your friends, and they were all probably staying longer, but you were getting a little sleepy, so you decided to call it a night.

"Let's just go say goodbye to Sarah," you said and he nodded, letting you lead the way.

"Hey, I'm getting pretty tired, so we're gonna leave. Congratulations," you smiled once you had gotten to the table the happy couple was sitting at. As Chris was shaking the husband's hand, you had bent down to wrap your arms around Sarah in a tight hug.

"So you admit you're a 'we' now? You and Chris?" she teased, whispering in your ear.

"We're not," you rolled your eyes.

"Whatever you say," she smiled knowingly. "Thank you for coming," she said louder once you let go of her.

"It was a pleasure, congratulations," Chris smiled at the both of them, and you all gave your goodbyes.

On the way back, you were already lulling into sleep in the passenger's seat, and Chris smiled to himself.

"Chris," you mumbled from your half-asleep state.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For coming with me today. You're right. Dancing with you is better than sitting alone."

"Wow, what a compliment," he drawled sarcastically.

"Yeah, don't let it get to your head buddy," you chuckled, before shifting around in your seat so your head was leaning on the window. "Can you wake me up when we get there?"

"Sure," he smiled, "Sweet dreams."

"Thanks," you yawned.

When you got to your house, Chris gently nudged your shoulder a few times to wake you up. You woke up, confused for a second, but quickly regained your composure and thanked him for the ride.

You went into the house, barely changing out of your dress before plopping down on the bed.

It was kind of weird, honestly. Usually, no matter how tired you were, you wouldn't manage to fall asleep in a car, or a plane. Even a bed that wasn't yours was sometimes harder to sleep in.

But you were in your own bed now, so you didn't have a lot of time to mull that over before you sunk into a deep sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

"Hey," Chris greeted over the phone one Monday.

"Hi! How's it going?" you smiled.

"Fine. I mean, actually, do you wanna come over?"

"Right now?" you frowned.

"I mean, why not? Have the Monday chat in person."

"Um, sure. Yeah, I'll be over in a bit," you said. Hanging up, you didn't think too much of his invitation. He sounded fine, and he said he was. He was probably just being nice.

Soon enough you were knocking at his front door. It opened to reveal a very excited Dodger pouncing on you, and you giggled as you crouched down to pet him. "Yeah, hi Dodger! How's the cutest boy doing?"

"Ouch," Chris joked from the doorstep.

"Hello to you too, I guess," you said dryly, but with a grin on your face.

You all went inside, and Dodger went straight to his bed, curling up. "Your knock woke him up," Chris explained, smiling at the sight.

"Oh, sorry," you gave him a small smile.

"It's fine. As you can see, he has no problem going right back to sleep," he chuckled.

"Yeah," you giggled. "Is everything okay? I mean, is there a reason you wanted me to come except to enjoy my magnificent presence?" you teased.

"Well, that was mostly it," he laughed, "but actually, I did want to talk to you about something. Wanna go outside?"

"Um, sure," you said, frowning slightly before forcing yourself to smile again.

You stepped outside into his garden, sitting in the big lawn chairs.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" you asked, turning your head to look at him.

"That's Orion's Belt, right?" he evaded, pointing at a group of stars in the night sky.

"I'm pretty sure it is," you shrugged.

For a moment, you were both quiet.

"I've changed my mind," Chris started. "This isn't the rest of my life. It's just my life."

"Okay," you said, not getting where he was going with this.

"You know, all these cheesy couples we made fun of at Sarah's wedding? I think they have it right."

"How come?"

"They realized that romance isn't about forever. It's about right here, right now. It’s in the little things. I've been so opposed to romance lately, and I was constantly thinking about how I wouldn't have a forever, so much so that I forgot what's going on now."

"And what's that?" you asked softly.

"Something much simpler than that. Happiness."

You stared at each other in silence, a slight frown still on your face.

"You make me happy," Chris admitted in a soft voice. "You make me really happy. And I don't want to lose your friendship, but I have to ask you this, because otherwise I don't think I'd forgive myself. Do you really not believe in romance? At all?"

"I don't know," you whispered. Clearing your throat, you continued a bit louder. "I don't believe in everyone's version of it. The happily ever after, forever. I don't need anyone to complete me either."

"There's always a middle road. Maybe not everyone has someone, and we don’t need romance, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to want it. We shouldn't have to sit alone at weddings," he said sincerely. After a breath, he continued. "I'm not asking you for forever. I don't want to. But I want to ask you for now. And I don't think I'd complete you, just like you don't complete me. But you do make my life a whole lot better."

"Chris, you know I'm not looking for anything, I told you that when we met," you said weakly.

"I know. I also wasn't looking for anything. And yet I found… something. And I'd be a coward not to pursue it. We can make our own kind of romance; not a happily ever after, but a happy here and now. No big cheesy gestures, or unreasonable promises, just… being together. And that means I can't promise you it'll work, that it'll be perfect. Hell, it'll probably be messy, and hard, and mundane, at times, but that's how life is. But I can promise I'll try. And even if it doesn't work out, I'm willing to regret you for the rest of my life."

You thought back to every romantic relationship you've had. Every date you've been on. A lot of them were disappointing, but some of them were good.

None of them made you as happy as being with Chris did. Not one of your actual dates managed to top just hanging out with Chris. You didn't know why, but you felt safe with him, like you can be entirely yourself. You felt happy.

You didn't want to risk that. You didn't want to lose that. But what if taking this one risk would make it all that much better? You thought back to all of your friends, how happy they were with their significant other, how in love. What if putting your heart out on the line, for the first time in a long while, would make you happier than you had ever imagined?

Of course, it could also make you devastated. It could crush you. But that's the risk, isn't it?

There isn't any other person you'd rather take that leap with, you realized. In the few months you knew Chris, he already managed to become one of your favorite people in the entire world. You trusted him, cared about him, more than you'd let yourself realize up until now. And like he said, not exploring that would make you a coward. And you're not.

You took a deep breath. Chris gave you the time you needed, simply looking at you softly.

"I haven't dated anyone in a while. I might be rusty," you chuckled finally.

"I'm willing to take those odds," he smiled. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," you nodded, a grin slowly making its way onto your face. "If there's anyone I would do this with, it's you," you admitted softly.

He grinned, getting up from his chair and extending his hand out to you, and you accepted. Gently, he pulled you up on your feet, using his momentum to bring you to stand closer to him and wrapping his other arm around your waist. Slowly, you two inched closer, until, finally, his lips were on yours.

There weren't fireworks, or butterflies. There was just this moment, right here, right now. No doubts, or hesitations, it was peaceful. It felt right.

This moment was all you could ever ask for. All you'd ever need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You look so beautiful in the mornings," Chris murmured, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.

"You too. Happy birthday," You whispered back, weaving your fingers into the hairs on the nape of his neck. He hummed in response, and you giggled, feeling it tickling your neck.

You laid there for a while more, just basking in each other's company. But when you looked at the clock, you started nudging Chris away from you. "We should get up," you said softly, "We have a party to prepare for."

"The party's not until the evening," he whined, "Stay in bed," he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him.

You ended up leaving the bed at noon, eating a big lunch before tidying up for the party. A few minutes later, you slipped away, to set up your surprise.

"Hey Chris?" you called from the other room, "Can you just come over here for a second?"

"Coming!"

He entered to find you and Dodger in matching little party hats, and you were holding one out for him too.

"Wow!" he burst into laughter, putting the party hat on his head. "What's all this for?"

"I thought we should celebrate a little before the guests arrive," you shrugged. "And, you know, Dodger looks so cute in that little hat."

"He does," Chris cooed. "How did you manage to put it on him? He would never let me put anything."

"Well, he just likes me more," you smirked. Chris scoffed amusedly. "Okay fine," you rolled your eyes, "I may have bribed him with a treat."

Dodger's ears perked up at the word and you both laughed at the suddenly interested dog.

"I shouldn't have said that," you giggled.

"Probably," he agreed. "Thank you," you put his arm on the small of your back, nudging you closer to his side.

"You're welcome. Happy birthday," you smiled, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips. He cupped your cheek in his hand, deepening the kiss, but before it could get any further Dodger was barking and putting his front paws on the both of you.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get jealous. We love you too," you and Chris laughed, petting his head affectionately.

Honestly that day was a perfectly normal day for you and Chris. Being in love for the two of you didn't mean big highs and lows. You had your moments, but most of the time, it was just this peaceful bliss.

Later that night, the party was already in full swing. You and Chris separated from each other at some point, but you were making the rounds, so you knew sooner or later you'd meet up again.

In the small crowd, it was easy to spot your friends, sitting with the same group they did last year. You smiled to yourself, going up and greeting everyone warmly.

"How's everyone doing?" you asked, sitting down for a moment.

There was a chorus of "fine"s and "good"s before the conversation continued. You joined in, talking to your friends and catching up with the other group.

"Hey," Chris' voice was suddenly next to you. He came up and wrapped his arms around you from behind, talking softly next to your ear. "I'm gonna get myself another beer. You want anything as well?"

"Um, yeah. Can you bring me one too?"

"Sure," he smiled.

You tilted your head so you could reach and kiss his cheek, "Thanks."

As he walked away, you turned your attention back to the rest of the group, only to find them all looking at you with knowing grins.

"I thought you didn't do romance," said the woman you had spoken to last year, a teasing smile on her face.

"I didn't. I guess I changed my mind," you smiled softly, watching Chris’ back as he dissappeared into the kitchen.

Maybe romance wasn’t so bad after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

did you catch the three references? tell me:)) i hope you like it, and if you stuck through this entire story, thank you so so much for reading!! as always, i’d love to hear your thoughts, and remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself<3 happy chris day!!

special shoutout for @animnerd who gave me some motivation when i needed it<3 

Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash @imvivian

Chris & co. taglist: @patzammit

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

[luck-and-larceny]

“ tell me your most awkward date story ?”

Malika's brain spins the story around in her head over and over while her hands do the same to a glass on the table. She hiccups a few times and then tells the tale:

"So. Hiccup. Heh. Met her at the Gold Saucer. Total babe. A knockout. Like… like whoa. Styled, bright red hair. These… zese… fuckin' green eyes. They looked like they saw everything. In this reality and all others!  She was- hiccup- fuck.  Poised, dignified, and gorgeous. And mean as hell! Didn't tolerate any mind games while she played her card games. She was heh heh godsdamned serious. Hated people who didn't take the game seriously.

And me? Me?  I don't take anything seriously at all. I knew she'd hate me more than anyone she'd ever met. How could I resist!? Couldn't! Temptation is a… fuck. Whatever the idiom is. Hiccup.

I joined her table and was like "Blah blah blah blah blah!" Talked non-stop! Knew she preferred quiet. Pretended not to know the games. "Can you explain again? Sorry!"  So her time would be… would be wasted, you know?  As the dealer explained the rules. And then? Ha! I'd do stremely- ex… ex streme… stremely well, whatever, just so she'd know I'd lied about not getting it. I don't know why I gotta– why I need to be an asshole to serious people, I dunno. But oh gods, oh fuck do I. I really do.

Anticipated the slam against the wall when the games were over. And! And I anticipated her growled insults, "You– you obnoxious, wretched, wretched, you lying fucking… fucking clown–". 

I did NOT expect her to kiss me immediately after! Or the passion with which she did so. Fuck. I certainly didn't expect how into it I got. Or that she got. That we got. Or… fuck. It's hot in here. Ahem. Hiccup.

Listen, lisssen. I love surprises. Nothing gets me going like a good surprise. And this was a good one! Closed my eyes? Boom. Boom!  World disappeared. It was just me. And Her. And this fucking kiss…

Whoops. Fatal error. Bzzzt!! See, turned out she was a thief too. Her eyes, the ones that saw ev-ery-thing? They saw my shoulder bag. An how to get into it. One hand? Pinning me sexily against the wall. Other hand? Stole an item from my bag that I had just stolen bells earlier for a job.

Why did I take it to the Gold Saucer and not straight to the boss? Uh. Fuck me!  I don't fucking know!  It was dangerous and stupid to go to the Saucer first. A pointless risk. That's– that's prolly why I did it.

I didn't notice it missing right away. The kiss ended and she stormed away. Her heels echoing through the halls like boom! Boom! Boom!  Loudly as my heart in my chest.

My boss at the time?  Real angry, violent, vindictive son of a bitch. I couldn't go back without the item. So I stalked her home. I broke in. I got caught… But!! I also eventually got away. With the item for the boss. And a stolen trinket for myself as well."

Malika smirks, eyes twinkling with the memory. "Awkward? Yes.  Worth it? Heh. oh… oh Absofuckinglutely."

Thank you for the Ask!

[mizunetzu]

Mr Mizunetzu’s secret Santa! Kita x reader - cold, cold observations (he loves me so it’s okay)

( @luv-hqs hi HAHA!! I was ur secret Santa >:) Funny story, I accidentally deleted the ask you gave me that had your preferences, but I vaguely remember there being a “Kita” and “angst” LMAO SO I ROLLED WITH THAT TELL ME IF I GOT IT WRONG BUT HEY YALL GET UR FIRST INARIZAKI FIC FROM ME )

⚠️warnings - ANGST? Unintentionally cold Kita baby doesn’t mean it I swear, sad ending

Pronouns - male, he/him

you can find part two here!

——————

“I like you, Kita-kun! Please, please go out with me!”

(Y/n) thrusted himself into a sharp, 90 degree bow, squeezing his eyes shut and balling his hands up into fists, planted firmly against his sides. Kita looked down at him.

“Sure.”

“Wh-“ (Y/n’s) head tossed up, his (h/c)-colored hair whipping back as he did so. “Really?”

Kita nodded. “I like you too, so I don’t see why you’re so surprised. People date people who they like, right?”

A wide smile stretched across (Y/n’s) face, illuminating it just enough to catch the pretty cherry blossom petals fluttering around him. His face shone like the sun, even daring to put the big ball of light to shame. He stood back up, his smile still noticeably big and happy.

“Please take care of me then, Kita-kun.” (Y/n) stepped forward and sheepishly brushed his fingers against Kita’s shoulder.

‘He loves me...’

——

Please take care of me.

It was a simple request. A simple phrase. “Please take care of me,” not in a babied, maternal way, but in the way that (Y/n) hoped him and Kita would be as a lovey-dovey couple you see in romance manga. The kind you see and can’t help but coo at.

“You need to stop flailing your arms around. You’re weakening your spike, (L/n)-kun.”

Kita called out so suddenly, (Y/n) mid-spike, making him sputter and land awkwardly. The ball hit the net with a thud, before landing on the same side of the court it came from. Kita looked at (Y/n) skeptically. It was his normal, straight-laced face, but everyone in the gym could sense the intimidating aura Kita was projecting.

No one wanted to be on the receiving end of that aura, to be cornered by Kita’s judgementful gaze. Yet here (Y/n) was. How unlucky.

“I’m...I’ll do it better next time, Shicchan.”

“Shicchan?”

“W-well...you don’t mind it when I call you that in private, Sh-“

“This isn’t private, (L/n)-kun. We’re in practice.” Kita bore holes into (Y/n’s) skull, who was desperately trying to look anywhere but Kita. Aran scratched the back of his neck.

“Uh-it’s just a nickname dude, plus, you guys are dating, right? So it’s natural that (L/n)-san would call you that.”

“That doesn’t distract from the fact you need to get your spikes over the net, (L/n)-kun. Not on it.” Kita paid Aran no mind, and continued staring down (Y/n) with a heavy, emotionless gaze.

“S-sorry...” (Y/n) shrank back into himself. Everyone who was staring immediately scrambled to look away once Kita looked back. Kita wordlessly walked away.

“Damn, I’m sorry man.” Aran’s eyebrows contorted into a look of pity, while (Y/n) awkwardly chuckled.

“S’fine. He was...probably just having a bad day s’all.” (Y/n) brushed off Kita’s cold judgment faster than Aran expected. He smiled.

“He loves me, so it’s okay.”

——

Today is a good day. (Y/n) hummed as he strolled down the path to practice. In fact, today is a great day. (Y/n) didn’t know why, but it was a great day.

(Y/n) strut into the gym, carrying bag of steamed pork buns he’d bought at the convenience store a few minutes ago. The gyms inhabitants stopped one by one, their focuses shifting from their individual practice to (Y/n) and his bag of food.

Hungry players, especially Atsumu and Osamu, flocked towards (Y/n) with hungry stomachs or a sense of curiousness. Kita caught the ball he was tossing in the air and looked at (Y/n) with blank eyes.

“You’re disrupting practice.” Kita said, not moving an inch from where he was standing. (Y/n’s) smile faltered a bit.

“W-well I just felt like buying the team some food-I feel like we’ve been working hard and we deserve it-“

“You came to practice late to buy food that you could’ve bought after practice?” Kita’s question felt more like a jab at (Y/n’s) chest. Everyone crowding around (Y/n) froze up, a sudden icy-cold shooting down their spines. Kita’s unwanted, scary aura was back.

“I...”

“Why would you do that?” Kita cocked his head to the side. “You’re late to practice-you don’t even have your gym clothes on-and since you have food it’s either we eat it now and can’t practice-because we might get stomachaches-or we eat it after and it gets cold and you waste your money.”

The once bright smile caused by (Y/n’s) ‘good day’ finally cracked. He looked at Kita with embarrassment, trying to play it off with a less cheery, forced smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but his throat closed up and no words came out.

Kita sighed. “Well I don’t want you to waste your money. I guess we’re eating (L/n)-sans steamed buns now.” He turned to the coach. “Is it ok if we take a break from practice? (L/n)-kun brought steamed buns. If we’re lucky we can practice at the end of our practice time once we digest.”

Coach nodded awkwardly. Kita walked up to (Y/n), whose bag of food was being shared and distributed amongst Inarizaki. (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line.

“I’m...I’m sorry Shinsuke-kun.” (Y/n’s) happy day was weathered down and left with empty sadness in seconds. He felt so proud and courteous for buying his team a treat purely out of impulse, but now he just felt guilty for disturbing practice.

“It’s alright, I guess.” Kita’s words held no value, as he pecked (Y/n) on the cheek lovelessly. (Y/n) shot him a weak smile, cupping the cheek whom he had kissed gently.

‘He...loves me...so it’s okay.’

‘So it’s okay...’

——

It was such a small gesture. The small act of Kita drawing his hand away when (Y/n) reached out to hold it, him bringing his hand up to lock away in his pocket as they walked through the schools hallways. It was such a small, infinitesimal detail that (Y/n) should’ve brushed off with ease. Y’know, maybe his hand was just cold.

But he couldn’t.

He hesitantly slowed to a stop. “Shin...Kita-kun.”

Kita looked back, a blank look laced with the tiniest amount of confusion weaved inside. “Did something happen?”

“Do you love me?”

Kita dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Of course I do.” It came out his mouth no more than an automated machine would, as he dragged (Y/n) gently to the side of the hallway. “Be careful next time. We’re lucky not much people were around. Someone could’ve heard you.”

‘Heard you?’ (Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t angry. No, no he wasn’t angry. He just felt like someone hollowed out his insides.

“Is it so bad if people heard me? That I love you and wanna know if you love me too?”

“Yes.”

Kita had no filter. He announced it like saying ‘The sky is blue’, stating it like a fact he expected (Y/n) to know. And he wasn’t even adorning a stern or intentionally harsh face while he said it. Though, it was the way Kita said it so bluntly and emotionlessly that made it hurt the most.

But now that (Y/n) thought about it, when was the last time Kita smiled because of him?

Has he ever even seen him smile?

Has he ever seen, touched, or heard any sort of proof of his love?

Of Kita Shinsuke’s love?

(Y/n) downcast his face. “I just wanted to hold your hand.”

“You know how people feel about gay relationships. Not even my baa-san knows yet. So what if one of our classmates see-“

“-but the whole team knows-!”

“-and I trust the team. They won’t say a word until we’re sure and ready to tell everyone.”

(Y/n) stayed silent after that. Then, he opened his mouth.

“...Then do you trust me?”

It came out like a cracked, hoarse whisper. Kita, for once, look stunned. His eyebrows raised slightly and his eyes widened, even if it were just a little bit.

“Of course I do.”

Another automated response.

(Y/n) nodded, letting Kita lead them back to the middle of the hallway to walk to practice. (Y/n) gave up on trying to hold Kita’s cold, cold hands, and instead thought solemnly to himself.

‘He...he loves...’

He paused. He looked over at Kita, who was looking straight ahead. He looked back down to his walking feet.

‘Does he love me?’

——

Kita looked around the gym. He saw Atsumu and Osamu yelling at each other about something he couldn’t quite make out, Suna fishing out his phone from his pocket, and Ginjima chatting and peppering a volleyball back and forth with Aran.

But no (Y/n).

Kita tapped Suna on the shoulder, who was zooming in and taking pictures of Osamu’s disgusted face. He hummed in acknowledgement, now trying to zoom in on Atsumu on the ground.

“Have you seen (L/n)-kun today?”

“In class, yeah. At practice, no.” Suna murmured. Kita nodded and thanked him for the info. That meant he was at school today, at least.

Excusing himself from practice, Kita stepped out of the gym. I mean, why wouldn’t he be worried about the whereabouts of his boyfriend? Especially with how odd he’s been acting, Kita couldn’t help but worry just a smidge.

After what seemed like hours of pointless searching, he eventually found a mop of (h/c)-hair sitting on a stone bench under the same cherry tree (Y/n) had confessed to him to. Kita had checked the place on impulse, not actually expecting to see someone there, but it was better than nothing. Kita walked up to the boy sitting with his back faced to him, and without even saying anything, (Y/n) gave a small hum.

“Mm.” Was all he said. His back was slouched, and he was still in his school uniform. His school bag laid pathetically strewn on the grass next to him, and if Kita could see his expression, it was probably unreadable.

“Practice is going on.”

“Mhm.”

“You should be at practice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why aren’t you going to practice?”

“Is everything about practice with you?” (Y/n) lifted his head. His voice was still calm, but it raised in volume ever so slightly. “Practice, practice, practice. What about how I feel?”

Kita opened his mouth to say something, but for the first time, nothing came out. He didn’t know what to do. Was he mad at him? Did he do something wrong?

“I...” (Y/n) choked back his words, letting out a sigh and slumping down on the stone bench once more. He flicked a fallen cherry blossom petal off his shoulder. “Never mind. I don’t feel like going to practice, tell coach th-“

“Is there something wrong?”

Kita question had come out of nowhere. (Y/n) bunched his hands into fists. “...now you notice?” He turned around, red in the face and tears falling freely in unison with the bittersweet cherry blossoms falling mockingly around them. “Tell me, Kita,”

“Do you love me?”

Kita furrowed his eyebrows. “...of course I-“

“”of course I do.” That’s what you always say..! Say something else, dammit! Say you love me!”

(Y/n) abruptly rose from his seat, stepping over the bench and grabbing Kita by the collar. He pulled him closer to his face, shaking him by the shirt with knuckles that almost turned white.

“M-Make me believe that you love me!” (Y/n’s) tears cascaded down his face, flinging in the air as he whipped his head down so suddenly. Small, choked sobs ripped through (Y/n), yet all Kita could do was stare. Stare with his blank, emotionless face. (Y/n) took his silence as his answer. The silence was so loud.

“...I think we should break up.” Kita’s eyes widened.

“Why?”

(Y/n’s) iron clad grip on Kita’s shirt loosened, he stepped back, face feeling raw after crying. “I don’t want to be with someone who can’t tell me they love me. Once you can tell me you love me, and mean it, I’m all ears.”

“(L/n)-kun-“

(Y/n) reached over the bench and pulled his school bag up, dusting off the stupid pink petals that littered around his bag. He slung it over his shoulder numbly, and shot a curt “See you tomorrow.” At Kita.

All Kita could do was stare. With the emotionless face he now wished held more vibrancy.

“...I love you, (Y/n).”

It came out foreign on his lips. It was the first time he’d said those words, hadn’t it? I love you. A cracked whisper, and even then it sounded like it held no value. Kita took one last linger at the now-empty schoolyard, and walked back to practice.

——

When Kita came back to the gym, everyone was sitting in a semi-circle surrounding a whiteboard. Various lineups and positions were drawn hastily on the board, and everyone looked towards the gym door which Kita had come in through. He silently dragged his feet over to the circle of players, and took a seat behind Aran.

“Where were you?” Aran whispered. Kita ignored him, the lump in his throat stinging and bloating his vocal cords up to the point he couldn’t talk.

Every moment, every interaction, every cold, cold observation Kita ever had with (Y/n) flashed before his eyes. The coach’s voice and the squeak of the whiteboard marker melded together as memories of how kind (Y/n) had been played like a dvd in his mind. He’s been so warm. So, so fucking warm. Every piece of warmth (Y/n) shared with him, he took for granted when he told himself he wouldn’t. He wasn’t normally like that. But he’s been so, so cold.

Silent, hot tears blurred Kita’s vision. They fell slowly, and dripped onto the hardwood floor with no meaning whatsoever. He was so cold. He clasped his hands together, shaking, and trying to hush his ragged breathing and sniffles. He felt so cold. Eventually, the coach stopped talking, and one by one players started turning around, asking if Kita was ok.

But he wasn’t. He was so cold.

——————

Kokoro is brokoro in Mr Mizunetzu’s Christmas event